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diff --git a/old/4412.txt b/old/4412.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8777d28 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/4412.txt @@ -0,0 +1,19792 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Ordeal of Richard Feverel, Complete +by George Meredith + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Ordeal of Richard Feverel, Complete + +Author: George Meredith + +Last Updated: March 6, 2009 +Release Date: October 12, 2006 [EBook #4412] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RICHARD FEVEREL *** + + + +Produced by Pat Castevans and David Widger + + + + + +THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL + +By George Meredith + +1905 + + + + +CONTENTS + + I. THE INMATES OF RAYNHAM ABBEY + II. FATES SELECTED THE FOURTEENTH BIRTHDAY TO TRY THE STRENGTH + III. THE MAGIAN CONFLICT + IV. ARSON + V. ADRIAN PLIES HIS HOOK + VI. JUVENILE STRATAGEMS + VII. DAPHNE'S BOWER + VIII. THE BITTER CUP + IX. A FINE DISTINCTION + X. RICHARD PASSES THROUGH HIS PRELIMINARY ORDEAL + XI. THE LAST ACT OF THE BAKEWELL COMEDY IS CLOSED IN A LETTER + XII. THE BLOSSOMING SEASON + XIII. THE MAGNETIC AGE + XIV. AN ATTRACTION + XV. FERDINAND AND MIRANDA + XVI. UNMASKING OF MASTER RIPTON THOMPSON + XVII. GOOD WINE AND GOOD BLOOD + XVIII. THE SYSTEM ENCOUNTERS THE WILD OATS SPECIAL PLEA + XIX. A DIVERSION PLAYED ON A PENNY WHISTLE + XX. CELEBRATES THE TIME-HONOURED TREATMENT OF A DRAGON BY THE HERO + XXI. RICHARD IS SUMMONED TO TOWN TO HEAR A SERMON + XXII. INDICATES THE APPROACHES OF FEVER + XXIII. CRISIS IN THE APPLE-DISEASE + XXIV. OF THE SPRING PRIMROSE AND THE AUTUMNAL + XXV. IN WHICH THE HERO TAKES A STEP + XXVI. RECORDS THE RAPID DEVELOPMENT OF THE HERO + XXVII. CONTAINS AN INTERCESSION FOR THE HEROINE + XXVIII. PREPARATIONS FOR ACTION WERE CONDUCTED UNDER THE APRIL OF LOVERS + XIX. THE LAST ACT OF THE COMEDY TAKES THE PLACE OF THE FIRST + XXX. CELEBRATES THE BREAKFAST + XXXI. THE PHILOSOPHER APPEARS IN PERSON + XXXII. PROCESSION OF THE CAKE + XXXIII. NURSING THE DEVIL + XXXIV. CONQUEST OF AN EPICURE + XXXV. CLARE'S MARRIAGE + XXXVI. A DINNER-PARTY AT RICHMOND + XXXVII. MRS. BERRY ON MATRIMONY + XXXVIII. AN ENCHANTRESS + XXXIX. THE LITTLE BIRD AND THE FALCON: A BERRY TO THE RESCUE! + XL. CLARE'S DIARY + XLI. AUSTIN RETURNS + XLII. NATURE SPEAKS + XLIII. AGAIN THE MAGIAN CONFLICT + XLIV. THE LAST SCENE + XLV. LADY BLANDISH TO AUSTIN WENTWORTH + + + + +CHAPTER I + +Some years ago a book was published under the title of "The Pilgrim's +Scrip." It consisted of a selection of original aphorisms by an +anonymous gentleman, who in this bashful manner gave a bruised heart to +the world. + +He made no pretension to novelty. "Our new thoughts have thrilled +dead bosoms," he wrote; by which avowal it may be seen that youth had +manifestly gone from him, since he had ceased to be jealous of the +ancients. There was a half-sigh floating through his pages for those +days of intellectual coxcombry, when ideas come to us affecting the +embraces of virgins, and swear to us they are ours alone, and no one +else have they ever visited: and we believe them. + +For an example of his ideas of the sex he said: + +"I expect that Woman will be the last thing civilized by Man." + +Some excitement was produced in the bosoms of ladies by so monstrous a +scorn of them. + +One adventurous person betook herself to the Heralds' College, and there +ascertained that a Griffin between two Wheatsheaves, which stood on the +title-page of the book, formed the crest of Sir Austin Absworthy Bearne +Feverel, Baronet, of Raynham Abbey, in a certain Western county folding +Thames: a man of wealth and honour, and a somewhat lamentable history. + +The outline of the baronet's story was by no means new. He had a wife, +and he had a friend. His marriage was for love; his wife was a beauty; +his friend was a sort of poet. His wife had his whole heart, and his +friend all his confidence. When he selected Denzil Somers from among his +college chums, it was not on account of any similarity of disposition +between them, but from his intense worship of genius, which made him +overlook the absence of principle in his associate for the sake of such +brilliant promise. Denzil had a small patrimony to lead off with, and +that he dissipated before he left college; thenceforth he was dependent +upon his admirer, with whom he lived, filling a nominal post of +bailiff to the estates, and launching forth verse of some satiric and +sentimental quality; for being inclined to vice, and occasionally, and +in a quiet way, practising it, he was of course a sentimentalist and +a satirist, entitled to lash the Age and complain of human nature. His +earlier poems, published under the pseudonym of Diaper Sandoe, were +so pure and bloodless in their love passages, and at the same time so +biting in their moral tone, that his reputation was great among the +virtuous, who form the larger portion of the English book-buying public. +Election-seasons called him to ballad-poetry on behalf of the Tory +party. Dialer possessed undoubted fluency, but did tittle, though Sir +Austin was ever expecting much of him. + +A languishing, inexperienced woman, whose husband in mental and in moral +stature is more than the ordinary height above her, and who, now that +her first romantic admiration of his lofty bearing has worn off, and her +fretful little refinements of taste and sentiment are not instinctively +responded to, is thrown into no wholesome household collision with a +fluent man, fluent in prose and rhyme. Lady Feverel, when she first +entered on her duties at Raynham, was jealous of her husband's friend. +By degrees she tolerated him. In time he touched his guitar in her +chamber, and they played Rizzio and Mary together. + + "For I am not the first who found + The name of Mary fatal!" + +says a subsequent sentimental alliterative love-poem of Diaper's. + +Such was the outline of the story. But the baronet could fill it up. He +had opened his soul to these two. He had been noble Love to the one, and +to the other perfect Friendship. He had bid them be brother and sister +whom he loved, and live a Golden Age with him at Raynham. In fact, he +had been prodigal of the excellences of his nature, which it is not good +to be, and, like Timon, he became bankrupt, and fell upon bitterness. + +The faithless lady was of no particular family; an orphan daughter of an +admiral who educated her on his half-pay, and her conduct struck but at +the man whose name she bore. + +After five years of marriage, and twelve of friendship, Sir Austin was +left to his loneliness with nothing to ease his heart of love upon save +a little baby boy in a cradle. He forgave the man: he put him aside as +poor for his wrath. The woman he could not forgive; she had sinned every +way. Simple ingratitude to a benefactor was a pardonable transgression, +for he was not one to recount and crush the culprit under the heap of +his good deeds. But her he had raised to be his equal, and he judged her +as his equal. She had blackened the world's fair aspect for him. + +In the presence of that world, so different to him now, he preserved +his wonted demeanor, and made his features a flexible mask. Mrs. Doria +Forey, his widowed sister, said that Austin might have retired from his +Parliamentary career for a time, and given up gaieties and that kind of +thing; her opinion, founded on observation of him in public and private, +was, that the light thing who had taken flight was but a feather on +her brother's Feverel-heart, and his ordinary course of life would be +resumed. There are times when common men cannot bear the weight of just +so much. Hippias Feverel, one of his brothers, thought him immensely +improved by his misfortune, if the loss of such a person could be +so designated; and seeing that Hippias received in consequence free +quarters at Raynham, and possession of the wing of the Abbey she had +inhabited, it is profitable to know his thoughts. If the baronet had +given two or three blazing dinners in the great hall he would have +deceived people generally, as he did his relatives and intimates. He was +too sick for that: fit only for passive acting. + +The nursemaid waking in the night beheld a solitary figure darkening a +lamp above her little sleeping charge, and became so used to the sight +as never to wake with a start. One night she was strangely aroused by +a sound of sobbing. The baronet stood beside the cot in his long black +cloak and travelling cap. His fingers shaded a lamp, and reddened +against the fitful darkness that ever and anon went leaping up the wall. +She could hardly believe her senses to see the austere gentleman, dead +silent, dropping tear upon tear before her eyes. She lay stone-still in +a trance of terror and mournfulness, mechanically counting the tears +as they fell, one by one. The hidden face, the fall and flash of those +heavy drops in the light of the lamp he held, the upright, awful figure, +agitated at regular intervals like a piece of clockwork by the low +murderous catch of his breath: it was so piteous to her poor human +nature that her heart began wildly palpitating. Involuntarily the poor +girl cried out to him, "Oh, sir!" and fell a-weeping. Sir Austin turned +the lamp on her pillow, and harshly bade her go to sleep, striding from +the room forthwith. He dismissed her with a purse the next day. + +Once, when he was seven years old, the little fellow woke up at night to +see a lady bending over him. He talked of this the neat day, but it was +treated as a dream; until in the course of the day his uncle Algernon +was driven home from Lobourne cricket-ground with a broken leg. Then it +was recollected that there was a family ghost; and, though no member +of the family believed in the ghost, none would have given up a +circumstance that testified to its existence; for to possess a ghost is +a distinction above titles. + +Algernon Feverel lost his leg, and ceased to be a gentleman in the +Guards. Of the other uncles of young Richard, Cuthbert, the sailor, +perished in a spirited boat expedition against a slaving negro chief up +the Niger. Some of the gallant lieutenant's trophies of war decorated +the little boy's play-shed at Raynham, and he bequeathed his sword to +Richard, whose hero he was. The diplomatist and beau, Vivian, ended his +flutterings from flower to flower by making an improper marriage, as +is the fate of many a beau, and was struck out of the list of visitors. +Algernon generally occupied the baronet's disused town-house, a wretched +being, dividing his time between horse and card exercise: possessed, it +was said, of the absurd notion that a man who has lost his balance +by losing his leg may regain it by sticking to the bottle. At least, +whenever he and his brother Hippias got together, they never failed to +try whether one leg, or two, stood the bottle best. Much of a puritan as +Sir Austin was in his habits, he was too good a host, and too thorough +a gentleman, to impose them upon his guests. The brothers, and other +relatives, might do as they would while they did not disgrace the name, +and then it was final: they must depart to behold his countenance no +more. + +Algernon Feverel was a simple man, who felt, subsequent to his +misfortune, as he had perhaps dimly fancied it before, that his career +lay in his legs, and was now irrevocably cut short. He taught the boy +boxing, and shooting, and the arts of fence, and superintended the +direction of his animal vigour with a melancholy vivacity. The remaining +energies of Algernon's mind were devoted to animadversions on swift +bowling. He preached it over the county, struggling through laborious +literary compositions, addressed to sporting newspapers, on the Decline +of Cricket. It was Algernon who witnessed and chronicled young Richard's +first fight, which was with young Tom Blaize of Belthorpe Farm, three +years the boy's senior. + +Hippias Feverel was once thought to be the genius of the family. It was +his ill luck to have strong appetites and a weak stomach; and, as one is +not altogether fit for the battle of life who is engaged in a perpetual +contention with his dinner, Hippias forsook his prospects at the Bar, +and, in the embraces of dyspepsia, compiled his ponderous work on the +Fairy Mythology of Europe. He had little to do with the Hope of Raynham +beyond what he endured from his juvenile tricks. + +A venerable lady, known as Great-Aunt Grantley, who had money to +bequeath to the heir, occupied with Hippias the background of the house +and shared her candles with him. These two were seldom seen till the +dinner hour, for which they were all day preparing, and probably +all night remembering, for the Eighteenth Century was an admirable +trencherman, and cast age aside while there was a dish on the table. + +Mrs. Doris Foray was the eldest of the three sisters of the baronet, a +florid affable woman, with fine teeth, exceedingly fine light wavy hair, +a Norman nose, and a reputation for understanding men; and that, with +these practical creatures, always means the art of managing them. She +had married an expectant younger son of a good family, who deceased +before the fulfilment of his prospects; and, casting about in her mind +the future chances of her little daughter and sole child, Clare, she +marked down a probability. The far sight, the deep determination, the +resolute perseverance of her sex, where a daughter is to be provided for +and a man to be overthrown, instigated her to invite herself to Raynham, +where, with that daughter, she fixed herself. + +The other two Feverel ladies were the wife of Colonel Wentworth and the +widow of Mr. Justice Harley: and the only thing remarkable about them +was that they were mothers of sons of some distinction. + +Austin Wentworth's story was of that wretched character which to be +comprehended, that justice should be dealt him, must be told out and +openly; which no one dares now do. + +For a fault in early youth, redeemed by him nobly, according to his +light, he was condemned to undergo the world's harsh judgment: not for +the fault--for its atonement. + +"--Married his mother's housemaid," whispered Mrs. Doria, with a ghastly +look, and a shudder at young men of republican sentiments, which he +was reputed to entertain. "'The compensation for Injustice,' says the +'Pilgrim's Scrip,' is, that in that dark Ordeal we gather the worthiest +around us." + +And the baronet's fair friend, Lady Blandish, and some few true men and +women, held Austin Wentworth high. + +He did not live with his wife; and Sir Austin, whose mind was bent +on the future of our species, reproached him with being barren to +posterity, while knaves were propagating. + +The principal characteristic of the second nephew, Adrian Harley, was +his sagacity. He was essentially the wise youth, both in counsel and in +action. + +"In action," the "Pilgrim's Scrip" observes, "Wisdom goes by +majorities." + +Adrian had an instinct for the majority, and, as the world invariably +found him enlisted in its ranks, his appellation of wise youth was +acquiesced in without irony. + +The wise youth, then, had the world with him, but no friends. Nor did he +wish for those troublesome appendages of success. He caused himself +to be required by people who could serve him; feared by such as could +injure. Not that he went out of the way to secure his end, or risked the +expense of a plot. He did the work as easily as he ate his daily bread. +Adrian was an epicurean; one whom Epicurus would have scourged out of +his garden, certainly: an epicurean of our modern notions. To satisfy +his appetites without rashly staking his character, was the wise youth's +problem for life. He had no intimates except Gibbon and Horace, and the +society of these fine aristocrats of literature helped him to accept +humanity as it had been, and was; a supreme ironic procession, with +laughter of Gods in the background. Why not laughter of mortals also? +Adrian had his laugh in his comfortable corner. He possessed peculiar +attributes of a heathen God. He was a disposer of men: he was polished, +luxurious, and happy--at their cost. He lived in eminent self-content, +as one lying on soft cloud, lapt in sunshine. Nor Jove, nor Apollo, cast +eye upon the maids of earth with cooler fire of selection, or pursued +them in the covert with more sacred impunity. And he enjoyed his +reputation for virtue as something additional. Stolen fruits are said to +be sweet; undeserved rewards are exquisite. + +The best of it was, that Adrian made no pretences. He did not solicit +the favourable judgment of the world. Nature and he attempted no other +concealment than the ordinary mask men wear. And yet the world would +proclaim him moral, as well as wise, and the pleasing converse every way +of his disgraced cousin Austin. + +In a word, Adrian Harley had mastered his philosophy at the early age +of one-and-twenty. Many would be glad to say the same at that age +twice-told: they carry in their breasts a burden with which Adrian's +was not loaded. Mrs. Doria was nearly right about his heart. A singular +mishap (at his birth, possibly, or before it) had unseated that organ, +and shaken it down to his stomach, where it was a much lighter, nay, an +inspiring weight, and encouraged him merrily onward. Throned there it +looked on little that did not arrive to gratify it. Already that region +was a trifle prominent in the person of the wise youth, and carried, as +it were, the flag of his philosophical tenets in front of him. He was +charming after dinner, with men or with women: delightfully sarcastic: +perhaps a little too unscrupulous in his moral tone, but that his +moral reputation belied him, and it must be set down to generosity of +disposition. + +Such was Adrian Harley, another of Sir Austin's intellectual favourites, +chosen from mankind to superintend the education of his son at Raynham. +Adrian had been destined for the Church. He did not enter into Orders. +He and the baronet had a conference together one day, and from that time +Adrian became a fixture in the Abbey. His father died in his promising +son's college term, bequeathing him nothing but his legal complexion, +and Adrian became stipendiary officer in his uncle's household. + +A playfellow of Richard's occasionally, and the only comrade of his age +that he ever saw, was Master Ripton Thompson, the son of Sir Austin's +solicitor, a boy without a character. + +A comrade of some description was necessary, for Richard was neither to +go to school nor to college. Sir Austin considered that the schools were +corrupt, and maintained that young lads might by parental vigilance be +kept pretty secure from the Serpent until Eve sided with him: a period +that might be deferred, he said. He had a system of education for his +son. How it worked we shall see. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +October, shone royally on Richard's fourteenth birthday. The brown +beechwoods and golden birches glowed to a brilliant sun. Banks of +moveless cloud hung about the horizon, mounded to the west, where slept +the wind. Promise of a great day for Raynham, as it proved to be, though +not in the manner marked out. + +Already archery-booths and cricketing-tents were rising on the lower +grounds towards the river, whither the lads of Bursley and Lobourne, in +boats and in carts, shouting for a day of ale and honour, jogged merrily +to match themselves anew, and pluck at the lining laurel from each +other's brows, line manly Britons. The whole park was beginning to be +astir and resound with holiday cries. Sir Austin Feverel, a thorough +good Tory, was no game-preserver, and could be popular whenever he +chose, which Sir Males Papworth, on the other side of the river, a +fast-handed Whig and terror to poachers, never could be. Half the +village of Lobourne was seen trooping through the avenues of the park. +Fiddlers and gipsies clamoured at the gates for admission: white smocks, +and slate, surmounted by hats of serious brim, and now and then a +scarlet cloak, smacking of the old country, dotted the grassy sweeps to +the levels. + +And all the time the star of these festivities was receding further and +further, and eclipsing himself with his reluctant serf Ripton, who kept +asking what they were to do and where they were going, and how late +it was in the day, and suggesting that the lads of Lobourne would be +calling out for them, and Sir Austin requiring their presence, without +getting any attention paid to his misery or remonstrances. For Richard +had been requested by his father to submit to medical examination like a +boor enlisting for a soldier, and he was in great wrath. + +He was flying as though he would have flown from the shameful thought of +what had been asked of him. By-and-by he communicated his sentiments +to Ripton, who said they were those of a girl: an offensive remark, +remembering which, Richard, after they had borrowed a couple of guns +at the bailiff's farm, and Ripton had fired badly, called his friend a +fool. + +Feeling that circumstances were making him look wonderfully like one, +Ripton lifted his head and retorted defiantly, "I'm not!" + +This angry contradiction, so very uncalled for, annoyed Richard, who was +still smarting at the loss of the birds, owing to Ripton's bad shot, and +was really the injured party. He, therefore bestowed the abusive epithet +on Ripton anew, and with increase of emphasis. + +"You shan't call me so, then, whether I am or not," says Ripton, and +sucks his lips. + +This was becoming personal. Richard sent up his brows, and stared at his +defier an instant. He then informed him that he certainly should call +him so, and would not object to call him so twenty times. + +"Do it, and see!" returns Ripton, rocking on his feet, and breathing +quick. + +With a gravity of which only boys and other barbarians are capable, +Richard went through the entire number, stressing the epithet to +increase the defiance and avoid monotony, as he progressed, while Ripton +bobbed his head every time in assent, as it were, to his comrade's +accuracy, and as a record for his profound humiliation. The dog they had +with them gazed at the extraordinary performance with interrogating wags +of the tail. + +Twenty times, duly and deliberately, Richard repeated the obnoxious +word. + +At the twentieth solemn iteration of Ripton's capital shortcoming, +Ripton delivered a smart back-hander on Richard's mouth, and squared +precipitately; perhaps sorry when the deed was done, for he was a +kind-hearted lad, and as Richard simply bowed in acknowledgment of the +blow he thought he had gone too far. He did not know the young gentleman +he was dealing with. Richard was extremely cool. + +"Shall we fight here?" he said. + +"Anywhere you like," replied Ripton. + +"A little more into the wood, I think. We may be interrupted." And +Richard led the way with a courteous reserve that somewhat chilled +Ripton's ardour for the contest. On the skirts of the wood, Richard +threw off his jacket and waistcoat, and, quite collected, waited for +Ripton to do the same. The latter boy was flushed and restless; older +and broader, but not so tight-limbed and well-set. The Gods, sole +witnesses of their battle, betted dead against him. Richard had mounted +the white cockade of the Feverels, and there was a look in him that +asked for tough work to extinguish. His brows, slightly lined upward at +the temples, converging to a knot about the well-set straight nose; his +full grey eyes, open nostrils, and planted feet, and a gentlemanly air +of calm and alertness, formed a spirited picture of a young combatant. +As for Ripton, he was all abroad, and fought in school-boy style--that +is, he rushed at the foe head foremost, and struck like a windmill. He +was a lumpy boy. When he did hit, he made himself felt; but he was at +the mercy of science. To see him come dashing in, blinking and puffing +and whirling his arms abroad while the felling blow went straight +between them, you perceived that he was fighting a fight of desperation, +and knew it. For the dreaded alternative glared him in the face that, if +he yielded, he must look like what he had been twenty times calumniously +called; and he would die rather than yield, and swing his windmill till +he dropped. Poor boy! he dropped frequently. The gallant fellow fought +for appearances, and down he went. The Gods favour one of two parties. +Prince Turnus was a noble youth; but he had not Pallas at his elbow. +Ripton was a capital boy; he had no science. He could not prove he was +not a fool! When one comes to think of it, Ripton did choose the only +possible way, and we should all of us have considerable difficulty in +proving the negative by any other. Ripton came on the unerring fist +again and again; and if it was true, as he said in short colloquial +gasps, that he required as much beating as an egg to be beaten +thoroughly, a fortunate interruption alone saved our friend from +resembling that substance. The boys heard summoning voices, and beheld +Mr. Morton of Poer Hall and Austin Wentworth stepping towards them. + +A truce was sounded, jackets were caught up, guns shouldered, and off +they trotted in concert through the depths of the wood, not stopping +till that and half-a-dozen fields and a larch plantation were well +behind them. + +When they halted to take breath, there was a mutual study of faces. +Ripton's was much discoloured, and looked fiercer with its natural +war-paint than the boy felt. Nevertheless, he squared up dauntlessly on +the new ground, and Richard, whose wrath was appeased, could not refrain +from asking him whether he had not really had enough. + +"Never!" shouts the noble enemy. + +"Well, look here," said Richard, appealing to common sense, "I'm tired +of knocking you down. I'll say you're not a fool, if you'll give me your +hand." + +Ripton demurred an instant to consult with honour, who bade him catch at +his chance. + +He held out his hand. "There!" and the boys grasped hands and were fast +friends. Ripton had gained his point, and Richard decidedly had the best +of it. So, they were on equal ground. Both, could claim a victory, which +was all the better for their friendship. + +Ripton washed his face and comforted his nose at a brook, and was now +ready to follow his friend wherever he chose to lead. They continued +to beat about for birds. The birds on the Raynham estates were found +singularly cunning, and repeatedly eluded the aim of these prime shots, +so they pushed their expedition into the lands of their neighbors, in +search of a stupider race, happily oblivious of the laws and conditions +of trespass; unconscious, too, that they were poaching on the demesne of +the notorious Farmer Blaize, the free-trade farmer under the shield of +the Papworths, no worshipper of the Griffin between two Wheatsheaves; +destined to be much allied with Richard's fortunes from beginning to +end. Farmer Blaize hated poachers, and, especially young chaps poaching, +who did it mostly from impudence. He heard the audacious shots popping +right and left, and going forth to have a glimpse at the intruders, and +observing their size, swore he would teach my gentlemen a thing, lords +or no lords. + +Richard had brought down a beautiful cock-pheasant, and was exulting +over it, when the farmer's portentous figure burst upon them, cracking +an avenging horsewhip. His salute was ironical. + +"Havin' good sport, gentlemen, are ye?" + +"Just bagged a splendid bird!" radiant Richard informed him. + +"Oh!" Farmer Blaize gave an admonitory flick of the whip. + +"Just let me clap eye on't, then." + +"Say, please," interposed Ripton, who was not blind to doubtful aspects. + +Farmer Blaize threw up his chin, and grinned grimly. + +"Please to you, sir? Why, my chap, you looks as if ye didn't much mind +what come t'yer nose, I reckon. You looks an old poacher, you do. Tall +ye what 'tis'!" He changed his banter to business, "That bird's mine! +Now you jest hand him over, and sheer off, you dam young scoundrels! I +know ye!" And he became exceedingly opprobrious, and uttered contempt of +the name of Feverel. + +Richard opened his eyes. + +"If you wants to be horsewhipped, you'll stay where y'are!" continued +the farmer. "Giles Blaize never stands nonsense!" + +"Then we'll stay," quoth Richard. + +"Good! so be't! If you will have't, have't, my men!" + +As a preparatory measure, Farmer Blaize seized a wing of the bird, on +which both boys flung themselves desperately, and secured it minus the +pinion. + +"That's your game," cried the farmer. "Here's a taste of horsewhip for +ye. I never stands nonsense!" and sweetch went the mighty whip, well +swayed. The boys tried to close with him. He kept his distance and +lashed without mercy. Black blood was made by Farmer Blaize that day! +The boys wriggled, in spite of themselves. It was like a relentless +serpent coiling, and biting, and stinging their young veins to madness. +Probably they felt the disgrace of the contortions they were made to go +through more than the pain, but the pain was fierce, for the farmer laid +about from a practised arm, and did not consider that he had done enough +till he was well breathed and his ruddy jowl inflamed. He paused, to +receive the remainder of the cock-pheasant in his face. + +"Take your beastly bird," cried Richard. + +"Money, my lads, and interest," roared the farmer, lashing out again. + +Shameful as it was to retreat, there was but that course open to them. +They decided to surrender the field. + +"Look! you big brute," Richard shook his gun, hoarse with passion, "I'd +have shot you, if I'd been loaded. Mind if I come across you when I'm +loaded, you coward, I'll fire!" The un-English nature of this threat +exasperated Farmer Blaize, and he pressed the pursuit in time to bestow +a few farewell stripes as they were escaping tight-breeched into neutral +territory. At the hedge they parleyed a minute, the farmer to inquire +if they had had a mortal good tanning and were satisfied, for when they +wanted a further instalment of the same they were to come for it to +Belthorpe Farm, and there it was in pickle: the boys meantime exploding +in menaces and threats of vengeance, on which the farmer contemptuously +turned his back. Ripton had already stocked an armful of flints for the +enjoyment of a little skirmishing. Richard, however, knocked them +all out, saying, "No! Gentlemen don't fling stones; leave that to the +blackguards." + +"Just one shy at him!" pleaded Ripton, with his eye on Farmer Blaize's +broad mark, and his whole mind drunken with a sudden revelation of the +advantages of light troops in opposition to heavies. + +"No," said Richard, imperatively, "no stones," and marched briskly away. +Ripton followed with a sigh. His leader's magnanimity was wholly beyond +him. A good spanking mark at the farmer would have relieved Master +Ripton; it would have done nothing to console Richard Feverel for the +ignominy he had been compelled to submit to. Ripton was familiar +with the rod, a monster much despoiled of his terrors by intimacy. +Birch-fever was past with this boy. The horrible sense of shame, +self-loathing, universal hatred, impotent vengeance, as if the spirit +were steeped in abysmal blackness, which comes upon a courageous and +sensitive youth condemned for the first time to taste this piece of +fleshly bitterness, and suffer what he feels is a defilement, Ripton had +weathered and forgotten. He was seasoned wood, and took the world +pretty wisely; not reckless of castigation, as some boys become, nor +oversensitive as to dishonour, as his friend and comrade beside him was. + +Richard's blood was poisoned. He had the fever on him severely. He +would not allow stone-flinging, because it was a habit of his to +discountenance it. Mere gentlemanly considerations has scarce shielded +Farmer Blaize, and certain very ungentlemanly schemes were coming to +ghastly heads in the tumult of his brain; rejected solely from their +glaring impracticability even to his young intelligence. A sweeping +and consummate vengeance for the indignity alone should satisfy him. +Something tremendous must be done; and done without delay. At one moment +he thought of killing all the farmer's cattle; next of killing him; +challenging him to single combat with the arms, and according to the +fashion of gentlemen. But the farmer was a coward; he would refuse. Then +he, Richard Feverel, would stand by the farmer's bedside, and rouse +him; rouse him to fight with powder and ball in his own chamber, in the +cowardly midnight, where he might tremble, but dare not refuse. + +"Lord!" cried simple Ripton, while these hopeful plots were raging in +his comrade's brain, now sparkling for immediate execution, and anon +lapsing disdainfully dark in their chances of fulfilment, "how I wish +you'd have let me notch him, Ricky! I'm a safe shot. I never miss. I +should feel quite jolly if I'd spanked him once. We should have had +the beat of him at that game. I say!" and a sharp thought drew Ripton's +ideas nearer home, "I wonder whether my nose is as bad as he says! Where +can I see myself?" + +To these exclamations Richard was deaf, and he trudged steadily forward, +facing but one object. + +After tearing through innumerable hedges, leaping fences, jumping dykes, +penetrating brambly copses, and getting dirty, ragged, and tired, Ripton +awoke from his dream of Farmer Blaize and a blue nose to the vivid +consciousness of hunger; and this grew with the rapidity of light upon +him, till in the course of another minute he was enduring the extremes +of famine, and ventured to question his leader whither he was being +conducted. Raynham was out of sight. They were a long way down the +valley, miles from Lobourne, in a country of sour pools, yellow brooks, +rank pasturage, desolate heath. Solitary cows were seen; the smoke of +a mud cottage; a cart piled with peat; a donkey grazing at leisure, +oblivious of an unkind world; geese by a horse-pond, gabbling as in +the first loneliness of creation; uncooked things that a famishing boy +cannot possibly care for, and must despise. Ripton was in despair. + +"Where are you going to?" he inquired with a voice of the last time of +asking, and halted resolutely. + +Richard now broke his silence to reply, "Anywhere." + +"Anywhere!" Ripton took up the moody word. "But ain't you awfully +hungry?" he gasped vehemently, in a way that showed the total emptiness +of his stomach. + +"No," was Richard's brief response. + +"Not hungry!" Ripton's amazement lent him increased vehemence. "Why, you +haven't had anything to eat since breakfast! Not hungry? I declare I'm +starving. I feel such a gnawing I could eat dry bread and cheese!" + +Richard sneered: not for reasons that would have actuated a similar +demonstration of the philosopher. + +"Come," cried Ripton, "at all events, tell us where you're going to +stop." + +Richard faced about to make a querulous retort. The injured and hapless +visage that met his eye disarmed him. The lad's nose, though not exactly +of the dreaded hue, was really becoming discoloured. To upbraid him +would be cruel. Richard lifted his head, surveyed the position, and +exclaiming "Here!" dropped down on a withered bank, leaving Ripton to +contemplate him as a puzzle whose every new move was a worse perplexity. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +Among boys there are laws of honour and chivalrous codes, not written or +formally taught, but intuitively understood by all, and invariably acted +upon by the loyal and the true. The race is not nearly civilized, we +must remember. Thus, not to follow your leader whithersoever he may +think proper to lead; to back out of an expedition because the end of +it frowns dubious, and the present fruit of it is discomfort; to quit a +comrade on the road, and return home without him: these are tricks which +no boy of spirit would be guilty of, let him come to any description +of mortal grief in consequence. Better so than have his own conscience +denouncing him sneak. Some boys who behave boldly enough are not +troubled by this conscience, and the eyes and the lips of their fellows +have to supply the deficiency. They do it with just as haunting, and +even more horrible pertinacity, than the inner voice, and the result, if +the probation be not very severe and searching, is the same. The leader +can rely on the faithfulness of his host: the comrade is sworn to serve. +Master Ripton Thompson was naturally loyal. The idea of turning off and +forsaking his friend never once crossed his mind, though his condition +was desperate, and his friend's behaviour that of a Bedlamite. He +announced several times impatiently that they would be too late for +dinner. His friend did not budge. Dinner seemed nothing to him. There he +lay plucking grass, and patting the old dog's nose, as if incapable of +conceiving what a thing hunger was. Ripton took half-a-dozen turns +up and down, and at last flung himself down beside the taciturn boy, +accepting his fate. + +Now, the chance that works for certain purposes sent a smart shower from +the sinking sun, and the wet sent two strangers for shelter in the lane +behind the hedge where the boys reclined. One was a travelling tinker, +who lit a pipe and spread a tawny umbrella. The other was a burly young +countryman, pipeless and tentless. They saluted with a nod, and began +recounting for each other's benefit the daylong-doings of the weather, +as it had affected their individual experience and followed their +prophecies. Both had anticipated and foretold a bit of rain before +night, and therefore both welcomed the wet with satisfaction. A +monotonous betweenwhiles kind of talk they kept droning, in harmony +with the still hum of the air. From the weather theme they fell upon the +blessings of tobacco; how it was the poor man's friend, his company, his +consolation, his comfort, his refuge at night, his first thought in the +morning. + +"Better than a wife!" chuckled the tinker. "No curtain-lecturin' with a +pipe. Your pipe an't a shrew." + +"That be it!" the other chimed in. "Your pipe doan't mak' ye out wi' all +the cash Saturday evenin'." + +"Take one," said the tinker, in the enthusiasm of the moment, handing a +grimy short clay. Speed-the-Plough filled from the tinker's pouch, and +continued his praises. + +"Penny a day, and there y'are, primed! Better than a wife? Ha, ha!" + +"And you can get rid of it, if ye wants for to, and when ye wants," +added tinker. + +"So ye can!" Speed-the-Plough took him up. "And ye doan't want for to. +Leastways, t'other case. I means pipe." + +"And," continued tinker, comprehending him perfectly, "it don't bring +repentance after it." + +"Not nohow, master, it doan't! And"--Speed-the-Plough cocked his +eye--"it doan't eat up half the victuals, your pipe doan't." + +Here the honest yeoman gesticulated his keen sense of a clincher, which +the tinker acknowledged; and having, so to speak, sealed up the subject +by saying the best thing that could be said, the two smoked for some +time in silence to the drip and patter of the shower. + +Ripton solaced his wretchedness by watching them through the briar +hedge. He saw the tinker stroking a white cat, and appealing to her, +every now and then, as his missus, for an opinion or a confirmation; and +he thought that a curious sight. Speed-the-Plough was stretched at full +length, with his boots in the rain, and his head amidst the tinker's +pots, smoking, profoundly contemplative. The minutes seemed to be taken +up alternately by the grey puffs from their mouths. + +It was the tinker who renewed the colloquy. Said he, "Times is bad!" + +His companion assented, "Sure-ly!" + +"But it somehow comes round right," resumed the tinker. "Why, look here. +Where's the good o' moping? I sees it all come round right and tight. +Now I travels about. I've got my beat. 'Casion calls me t'other day to +Newcastle!--Eh?" + +"Coals!" ejaculated Speed-the-Plough sonorously. + +"Coals!" echoed the tinker. "You ask what I goes there for, mayhap? +Never you mind. One sees a mort o' life in my trade. Not for coals +it isn't. And I don't carry 'em there, neither. Anyhow, I comes back. +London's my mark. Says I, I'll see a bit o' the sea, and steps aboard a +collier. We were as nigh wrecked as the prophet Paul." + +"--A--who's him?" the other wished to know. + +"Read your Bible," said the tinker. "We pitched and tossed--'tain't +that game at sea 'tis on land, I can tell ye! I thinks, down we're +a-going--say your prayers, Bob Tiles! That was a night, to be sure! But +God's above the devil, and here I am, ye see." Speed-the-Plough lurched +round on his elbow and regarded him indifferently. "D'ye call that +doctrin'? He bean't al'ays, or I shoo'n't be scrapin' my heels wi' +nothin' to do, and, what's warse, nothin' to eat. Why, look heer. Luck's +luck, and bad luck's the con-trary. Varmer Bollop, t'other day, has's +rick burnt down. Next night his gran'ry's burnt. What do he tak' and +go and do? He takes and goes and hangs unsel', and turns us out of his +employ. God warn't above the devil then, I thinks, or I can't make out +the reckonin'." + +The tinker cleared his throat, and said it was a bad case. + +"And a darn'd bad case. I'll tak' my oath on't!" cried Speed-the-Plough. +"Well, look heer! Heer's another darn'd bad case. I threshed for Varmer +Blaize Blaize o' Beltharpe afore I goes to Varmer Bollop. Varmer Blaize +misses pilkins. He swears our chaps steals pilkins. 'Twarn't me steals +'em. What do he tak' and go and do? He takes and tarns us off, me and +another, neck and crop, to scuffle about and starve, for all he keers. +God warn't above the devil then, I thinks. Not nohow, as I can see!" + +The tinker shook his head, and said that was a bad case also. + +"And you can't mend it," added Speed-the-Plough. "It's bad, and there it +be. But I'll tell ye what, master. Bad wants payin' for." He nodded +and winked mysteriously. "Bad has its wages as well's honest work, I'm +thinkin'. Varmer Bollop I don't owe no grudge to: Varmer Blaize I do. +And I shud like to stick a Lucifer in his rick some dry windy night." +Speed-the-Plough screwed up an eye villainously. "He wants hittin' in +the wind,--jest where the pocket is, master, do Varmer Blaize, and he'll +cry out 'O Lor'!' Varmer Blaize will. You won't get the better o' Varmer +Blaize by no means, as I makes out, if ye doan't hit into him jest +there." + +The tinker sent a rapid succession of white clouds from his mouth, +and said that would be taking the devil's side of a bad case. +Speed-the-Plough observed energetically that, if Farmer Blaize was on +the other, he should be on that side. + +There was a young gentleman close by, who thought with him. The hope of +Raynham had lent a careless half-compelled attention to the foregoing +dialogue, wherein a common labourer and a travelling tinker had +propounded and discussed one of the most ancient theories of +transmundane dominion and influence on mundane affairs. He now started +to his feet, and came tearing through the briar hedge, calling out for +one of them to direct them the nearest road to Bursley. The tinker was +kindling preparations for his tea, under the tawny umbrella. A loaf +was set forth, oh which Ripton's eyes, stuck in the edge, fastened +ravenously. Speed-the-Plough volunteered information that Bursley was +a good three mile from where they stood, and a good eight mile from +Lobourne. + +"I'll give you half-a-crown for that loaf, my good fellow," said Richard +to the tinker. + +"It's a bargain;" quoth the tinker, "eh, missus?" + +His cat replied by humping her back at the dog. + +The half-crown was tossed down, and Ripton, who had just succeeded in +freeing his limbs from the briar, prickly as a hedgehog, collared the +loaf. + +"Those young squires be sharp-set, and no mistake," said the tinker to +his companion. "Come! we'll to Bursley after 'em, and talk it out over +a pot o' beer." Speed-the-Plough was nothing loath, and in a short +time they were following the two lads on the road to Bursley, while a +horizontal blaze shot across the autumn and from the Western edge of the +rain-cloud. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +Search for the missing boys had been made everywhere over Raynham, and +Sir Austin was in grievous discontent. None had seen them save Austin +Wentworth and Mr. Morton. The baronet sat construing their account of +the flight of the lads when they were hailed, and resolved it into an +act of rebellion on the part of his son. At dinner he drank the young +heir's health in ominous silence. Adrian Harley stood up in his place to +propose the health. His speech was a fine piece of rhetoric. He +warmed in it till, after the Ciceronic model, inanimate objects were +personified, and Richard's table-napkin and vacant chair were invoked to +follow the steps of a peerless father, and uphold with his dignity +the honour of the Feverels. Austin Wentworth, whom a soldier's death +compelled to take his father's place in support of the toast, was tame +after such magniloquence. But the reply, the thanks which young Richard +should have delivered in person were not forthcoming. Adrian's oratory +had given but a momentary life to napkin and chair. The company of +honoured friends, and aunts and uncles, remotest cousins, were glad to +disperse and seek amusement in music and tea. Sir Austin did his utmost +to be hospitable cheerful, and requested them to dance. If he had +desired them to laugh he would have been obeyed, and in as hearty a +manner. + +"How triste!" said Mrs. Doria Forey to Lobourne's curate, as that most +enamoured automaton went through his paces beside her with professional +stiffness. + +"One who does not suffer can hardly assent," the curate answered, +basking in her beams. + +"Ah, you are good!" exclaimed the lady. "Look at my Clare. She will not +dance on her cousin's birthday with anyone but him. What are we to do to +enliven these people?" + +"Alas, madam! you cannot do for all what you do for one," the curate +sighed, and wherever she wandered in discourse, drew her back with +silken strings to gaze on his enamoured soul. + +He was the only gratified stranger present. The others had designs +on the young heir. Lady Attenbury of Longford House had brought her +highly-polished specimen of market-ware, the Lady Juliana Jaye, for a +first introduction to him, thinking he had arrived at an age to estimate +and pine for her black eyes and pretty pert mouth. The Lady Juliana had +to pair off with a dapper Papworth, and her mama was subjected to the +gallantries of Sir Miles, who talked land and steam-engines to her till +she was sick, and had to be impertinent in self-defence. Lady Blandish, +the delightful widow, sat apart with Adrian, and enjoyed his sarcasms +on the company. By ten at night the poor show ended, and the rooms were +dark, dark as the prognostics multitudinously hinted by the disappointed +and chilled guests concerning the probable future of the hope of +Raynham. Little Clare kissed her mama, curtsied to the lingering +curate, and went to bed like a very good girl. Immediately the maid had +departed, little Clare deliberately exchanged night, attire for that of +day. She was noted as an obedient child. Her light was allowed to burn +in her room for half-an-hour, to counteract her fears of the dark. She +took the light, and stole on tiptoe to Richard's room. No Richard was +there. She peeped in further and further. A trifling agitation of the +curtains shot her back through the door and along the passage to her +own bedchamber with extreme expedition. She was not much alarmed, but +feeling guilty she was on her guard. In a short time she was prowling +about the passages again. Richard had slighted and offended the little +lady, and was to be asked whether he did not repent such conduct toward +his cousin; not to be asked whether he had forgotten to receive his +birthday kiss from her; for, if he did not choose to remember that, +Miss Clare would never remind him of it, and to-night should be his last +chance of a reconciliation. Thus she meditated, sitting on a stair, and +presently heard Richard's voice below in the hall, shouting for supper. + +"Master Richard has returned," old Benson the butler tolled out +intelligence to Sir Austin. + +"Well?" said the baronet. + +"He complains of being hungry," the butler hesitated, with a look of +solemn disgust. + +"Let him eat." + +Heavy Benson hesitated still more as he announced that the boy had +called for wine. It was an unprecedented thing. Sir Austin's brows were +portending an arch, but Adrian suggested that he wanted possibly to +drink his birthday, and claret was conceded. + +The boys were in the vortex of a partridge-pie when Adrian strolled in +to them. They had now changed characters. Richard was uproarious. He +drank a health with every glass; his cheeks were flushed and his eyes +brilliant. Ripton looked very much like a rogue on the tremble of +detection, but his honest hunger and the partridge-pie shielded him +awhile from Adrian's scrutinizing glance. Adrian saw there was matter +for study, if it were only on Master Ripton's betraying nose, and sat +down to hear and mark. + +"Good sport, gentlemen, I trust to hear?" he began his quiet banter, and +provoked a loud peal of laughter from Richard. + +"Ha, ha! I say, Rip: 'Havin' good sport, gentlemen, are ye?' You +remember the farmer! Your health, parson! We haven't had our sport yet. +We're going to have some first-rate sport. Oh, well! we haven't +much show of birds. We shot for pleasure, and returned them to the +proprietors. You're fond of game, parson! Ripton is a dead shot in +what Cousin Austin calls the Kingdom of 'would-have-done' and +'might-have-been.' Up went the birds, and cries Rip, 'I've forgotten to +load!' Oh, ho!--Rip! some more claret.--Do just leave that nose of yours +alone.--Your health, Ripton Thompson! The birds hadn't the decency +to wait for him, and so, parson, it's their fault, and not Rip's, you +haven't a dozen brace at your feet. What have you been doing at home, +Cousin Rady?" + +"Playing Hamlet, in the absence of the Prince of Denmark. The day +without you, my dear boy, must be dull, you know." + + "'He speaks: can I trust what he says is sincere? + There's an edge to his smile that cuts much like a sneer.' + +"Sandoe's poems! You know the couplet, Mr. Rady. Why shouldn't I quote +Sandoe? You know you like him, Rady. But, if you've missed me, I'm +sorry. Rip and I have had a beautiful day. We've made new acquaintances. +We've seen the world. I'm the monkey that has seen the world, and I'm +going to tell you all about it. First, there's a gentleman who takes a +rifle for a fowling-piece. Next, there's a farmer who warns everybody, +gentleman and beggar, off his premises. Next, there's a tinker and a +ploughman, who think that God is always fighting with the devil which +shall command the kingdoms of the earth. The tinker's for God, and the +ploughman"-- + +"I'll drink your health, Ricky," said Adrian, interrupting. + +"Oh, I forgot, parson;--I mean no harm, Adrian. I'm only telling what +I've heard." + +"No harm, my dear boy," returned Adrian. "I'm perfectly aware that +Zoroaster is not dead. You have been listening to a common creed. Drink +the Fire-worshippers, if you will." + +"Here's to Zoroaster, then!" cried Richard. "I say, Rippy! we'll drink +the Fire-worshippers to-night won't we?" + +A fearful conspiratorial frown, that would not have disgraced Guido +Fawkes, was darted back from the plastic features of Master Ripton. + +Richard gave his lungs loud play. + +"Why, what did you say about Blaizes, Rippy? Didn't you say it was fun?" + +Another hideous and silencing frown was Ripton's answer. Adrian matched +the innocent youths, and knew that there was talking under the table. +"See," thought he, "this boy has tasted his first scraggy morsel of life +today, and already he talks like an old stager, and has, if I mistake +not, been acting too. My respected chief," he apostrophized Sir Austin, +"combustibles are only the more dangerous for compression. This boy will +be ravenous for Earth when he is let loose, and very soon make his share +of it look as foolish as yonder game-pie!"--a prophecy Adrian kept to +himself. + +Uncle Algernon shambled in to see his nephew before the supper was +finished, and his more genial presence brought out a little of the plot. + +"Look here, uncle!" said Richard. "Would you let a churlish old brute of +a farmer strike you without making him suffer for it?" + +"I fancy I should return the compliment, my lad," replied his uncle. + +"Of course you would! So would I. And he shall suffer for it." The boy +looked savage, and his uncle patted him down. + +"I've boxed his son; I'll box him," said Richard, shouting for more +wine. + +"What, boy! Is it old Blaize has been putting you up!" + +"Never mind, uncle!" The boy nodded mysteriously. + +'Look there!' Adrian read on Ripton's face, he says 'never mind,' and +lets it out! + +"Did we beat to-day, uncle?" + +"Yes, boy; and we'd beat them any day they bowl fair. I'd beat them +on one leg. There's only Watkins and Featherdene among them worth a +farthing." + +"We beat!" cries Richard. "Then we'll have some more wine, and drink +their healths." + +The bell was rung; wine ordered. Presently comes in heavy Benson, to +say supplies are cut off. One bottle, and no more. The Captain whistled: +Adrian shrugged. + +The bottle, however, was procured by Adrian subsequently. He liked +studying intoxicated urchins. + +One subject was at Richard's heart, about which he was reserved in the +midst of his riot. Too proud to inquire how his father had taken his +absence, he burned to hear whether he was in disgrace. He led to it +repeatedly, and it was constantly evaded by Algernon and Adrian. At +last, when the boy declared a desire to wish his father good-night, +Adrian had to tell him that he was to go straight to bed from the +supper-table. Young Richard's face fell at that, and his gaiety forsook +him. He marched to his room without another word. + +Adrian gave Sir Austin an able version of his son's behaviour and +adventures; dwelling upon this sudden taciturnity when he heard of his +father's resolution not to see him. The wise youth saw that his chief +was mollified behind his moveless mask, and went to bed, and Horace, +leaving Sir Austin in his study. Long hours the baronet sat alone. The +house had not its usual influx of Feverels that day. Austin Wentworth +was staying at Poer Hall, and had only come over for an hour. At +midnight the house breathed sleep. Sir Austin put on his cloak and cap, +and took the lamp to make his rounds. He apprehended nothing special, +but with a mind never at rest he constituted himself the sentinel of +Raynham. He passed the chamber where the Great-Aunt Grantley lay, who +was to swell Richard's fortune, and so perform her chief business on +earth. By her door he murmured, "Good creature! you sleep with a sense +of duty done," and paced on, reflecting, "She has not made money a demon +of discord," and blessed her. He had his thoughts at Hippias's somnolent +door, and to them the world might have subscribed. + +A monomaniac at large, watching over sane people in slumber! thinks +Adrian Harley, as he hears Sir Austin's footfall, and truly that was +a strange object to see.--Where is the fortress that has not one weak +gate? where the man who is sound at each particular angle? Ay, meditates +the recumbent cynic, more or less mad is not every mother's son? +Favourable circumstances--good air, good company, two or three good +rules rigidly adhered to--keep the world out of Bedlam. But, let the +world fly into a passion, and is not Bedlam the safest abode for it? + +Sir Austin ascended the stairs, and bent his steps leisurely toward the +chamber where his son was lying in the left wing of the Abbey. At the +end of the gallery which led to it he discovered a dim light. Doubting +it an illusion, Sir Austin accelerated his pace. This wing had aforetime +a bad character. Notwithstanding what years had done to polish it into +fair repute, the Raynham kitchen stuck to tradition, and preserved +certain stories of ghosts seen there, that effectually blackened it in +the susceptible minds of new house-maids and under-crooks, whose fears +would not allow the sinner to wash his sins. Sir Austin had heard of +the tales circulated by his domestics underground. He cherished his +own belief, but discouraged theirs, and it was treason at Raynham to be +caught traducing the left wing. As the baronet advanced, the fact of a +light burning was clear to him. A slight descent brought him into the +passage, and he beheld a poor human candle standing outside his son's +chamber. At the same moment a door closed hastily. He entered Richard's +room. The boy was absent. The bed was unpressed: no clothes about: +nothing to show that he had been there that night. Sir Austin felt +vaguely apprehensive. Has he gone to my room to await me? thought the +father's heart. Something like a tear quivered in his arid eyes as he +meditated and hoped this might be so. His own sleeping-room faced that +of his son. He strode to it with a quick heart. It was empty. Alarm +dislodged anger from his jealous heart, and dread of evil put a thousand +questions to him that were answered in air. After pacing up and down his +room he determined to go and ask the boy Thompson, as he called Ripton, +what was known to him. + +The chamber assigned to Master Ripton Thompson was at the northern +extremity of the passage, and overlooked Lobourne and the valley to the +West. The bed stood between the window and the door. Six Austin +found the door ajar, and the interior dark. To his surprise, the boy +Thompson's couch, as revealed by the rays of his lamp, was likewise +vacant. He was turning back when he fancied he heard the sibilation of +a whispering in the room. Sir Austin cloaked the lamp and trod silently +toward the window. The heads of his son Richard and the boy Thompson +were seen crouched against the glass, holding excited converse together. +Sir Austin listened, but he listened to a language of which he possessed +not the key. Their talk was of fire, and of delay: of expected agrarian +astonishment: of a farmer's huge wrath: of violence exercised upon +gentlemen, and of vengeance: talk that the boys jerked out by fits, and +that came as broken links of a chain impossible to connect. But they +awake curiosity. The baronet condescended to play the spy upon his son. + +Over Lobourne and the valley lay black night and innumerable stars. + +"How jolly I feel!" exclaimed Ripton, inspired by claret; and then, +after a luxurious pause--"I think that fellow has pocketed his guinea, +and cut his lucky." + +Richard allowed a long minute to pass, during which the baronet waited +anxiously for his voice, hardly recognizing it when he heard its altered +tones. + +"If he has, I'll go; and I'll do it myself." + +"You would?" returned Master Ripton. "Well, I'm hanged!--I say, if you +went to school, wouldn't you get into rows! Perhaps he hasn't found the +place where the box was stuck in. I think he funks it. I almost wish +you hadn't done it, upon my honour--eh? Look there! what was that? That +looked like something.--I say! do you think we shall ever be found out?" + +Master Ripton intoned this abrupt interrogation verb seriously. + +"I don't think about it," said Richard, all his faculties bent on signs +from Lobourne. + +"Well, but," Ripton persisted, "suppose we are found out?" + +"If we are, I must pay for it." + +Sir Austin breathed the better for this reply. He was beginning to +gather a clue to the dialogue. His son was engaged in a plot, and was, +moreover, the leader of the plot. He listened for further enlightenment. + +"What was the fellow's name?" inquired Ripton. + +His companion answered, "Tom Bakewell." + +"I'll tell you what," continued Ripton. "You let it all clean out +to your cousin and uncle at supper.--How capital claret is with +partridge-pie! What a lot I ate!--Didn't you see me frown?" + +The young sensualist was in an ecstasy of gratitude to his late +refection, and the slightest word recalled him to it. Richard answered +him: + +"Yes; and felt your kick. It doesn't matter. Rady's safe, and uncle +never blabs." + +"Well, my plan is to keep it close. You're never safe if you don't.--I +never drank much claret before," Ripton was off again. "Won't I now, +though! claret's my wine. You know, it may come out any day, and then +we're done for," he rather incongruously appended. + +Richard only took up the business-thread of his friend's rambling +chatter, and answered: + +"You've got nothing to do with it, if we are." + +"Haven't I, though! I didn't stick-in the box but I'm an accomplice, +that's clear. Besides," added Ripton, "do you think I should leave you +to bear it all on your shoulders? I ain't that sort of chap, Ricky, I +can tell you." + +Sir Austin thought more highly of the boy Thompson. Still it looked a +detestable conspiracy, and the altered manner of his son impressed him +strangely. He was not the boy of yesterday. To Sir Austin it seemed as +if a gulf had suddenly opened between them. The boy had embarked, and +was on the waters of life in his own vessel. It was as vain to call +him back as to attempt to erase what Time has written with the Judgment +Blood! This child, for whom he had prayed nightly in such a fervour and +humbleness to God, the dangers were about him, the temptations thick on +him, and the devil on board piloting. If a day had done so much, what +would years do? Were prayers and all the watchfulness he had expended of +no avail? + +A sensation of infinite melancholy overcame the poor gentleman--a +thought that he was fighting with a fate in this beloved boy. + +He was half disposed to arrest the two conspirators on the spot, and +make them confess, and absolve themselves; but it seemed to him better +to keep an unseen eye over his son: Sir Austin's old system prevailed. + +Adrian characterized this system well, in saying that Sir Austin wished +to be Providence to his son. + +If immeasurable love were perfect wisdom, one human being might almost +impersonate Providence to another. Alas! love, divine as it is, can +do no more than lighten the house it inhabits--must take its shape, +sometimes intensify its narrowness--can spiritualize, but not expel, the +old lifelong lodgers above-stairs and below. + +Sir Austin decided to continue quiescent. + +The valley still lay black beneath the large autumnal stars, and the +exclamations of the boys were becoming fevered and impatient. By-and-by +one insisted that he had seen a twinkle. The direction he gave was +out of their anticipations. Again the twinkle was announced. Both boys +started to their feet. It was a twinkle in the right direction now. + +"He's done it!" cried Richard, in great heat. "Now you may say old +Blaize'll soon be old Blazes, Rip. I hope he's asleep." + +"I'm sure he's snoring!--Look there! He's alight fast enough. He's dry. +He'll burn.--I say," Ripton re-assumed the serious intonation, "do you +think they'll ever suspect us?" + +"What if they do? We must brunt it." + +"Of course we will. But, I say! I wish you hadn't given them the scent, +though. I like to look innocent. I can't when I know people suspect me. +Lord! look there! Isn't it just beginning to flare up!" + +The farmer's grounds were indeed gradually standing out in sombre +shadows. + +"I'll fetch my telescope," said Richard. Ripton, somehow not liking to +be left alone, caught hold of him. + +"No; don't go and lose the best of it. Here, I'll throw open the window, +and we can see." + +The window was flung open, and the boys instantly stretched half their +bodies out of it; Ripton appearing to devour the rising flames with his +mouth: Richard with his eyes. + +Opaque and statuesque stood the figure of the baronet behind them. The +wind was low. Dense masses of smoke hung amid the darting snakes of +fire, and a red malign light was on the neighbouring leafage. No figures +could be seen. Apparently the flames had nothing to contend against, for +they were making terrible strides into the darkness. + +"Oh!" shouted Richard, overcome by excitement, "if I had my telescope! +We must have it! Let me go and fetch it! I Will!" + +The boys struggled together, and Sir Austin stepped back. As he did so, +a cry was heard in the passage. He hurried out, closed the chamber, and +came upon little Clare lying senseless along the door. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +In the morning that followed this night, great gossip was interchanged +between Raynham and Lobourne. The village told how Farmer Blaize, of +Belthorpe Farm, had his Pick feloniously set fire to; his stables had +caught fire, himself had been all but roasted alive in the attempt to +rescue his cattle, of which numbers had perished in the flames. Raynham +counterbalanced arson with an authentic ghost seen by Miss Clare in the +left wing of the Abbey--the ghost of a lady, dressed in deep mourning, a +scar on her forehead and a bloody handkerchief at her breast, frightful +to behold! and no wonder the child was frightened out of her wits, and +lay in a desperate state awaiting the arrival of the London doctors. It +was added that the servants had all threatened to leave in a body, and +that Sir Austin to appease them had promised to pull down the entire +left wing, like a gentleman; for no decent creature, said Lobourne, +could consent to live in a haunted house. + +Rumour for the nonce had a stronger spice of truth than usual. Poor +little Clare lay ill, and the calamity that had befallen Farmer Blaize, +as regards his rick, was not much exaggerated. Sir Austin caused an +account of it be given him at breakfast, and appeared so scrupulously +anxious to hear the exact extent of injury sustained by the farmer that +heavy Benson went down to inspect the scene. Mr. Benson returned, and, +acting under Adrian's malicious advice, framed a formal report of the +catastrophe, in which the farmer's breeches figured, and certain cooling +applications to a part of the farmer's person. Sir Austin perused it +without a smile. He took occasion to have it read out before the two +boys, who listened very demurely, as to ordinary newspaper incident; +only when the report particularized the garments damaged, and the +unwonted distressing position Farmer Blaize was reduced to in his bed, +indecorous fit of sneezing laid hold of Master Ripton Thompson, and +Richard bit his lip and burst into loud laughter, Ripton joining him, +lost to consequences. + +"I trust you feel for this poor man," said Sir Austin to his son, +somewhat sternly. He saw no sign of feeling. + +It was a difficult task for Sir Austin to keep his old countenance +toward the hope of Raynham, knowing him the accomplice-incendiary, and +believing the deed to have been unprovoked and wanton. But he must do +so, he knew, to let the boy have a fair trial against himself. Be +it said, moreover, that the baronet's possession of his son's secret +flattered him. It allowed him to act, and in a measure to feel, like +Providence; enabled him to observe and provide for the movements of +creatures in the dark. He therefore treated the boy as he commonly +did, and Richard saw no change in his father to make him think he was +suspected. + +The youngster's game was not so easy against Adrian. Adrian did not +shoot or fish. Voluntarily he did nothing to work off the destructive +nervous fluid, or whatever it may be, which is in man's nature; so that +two culprit boys once in his power were not likely to taste the +gentle hand of mercy; and Richard and Ripton paid for many a trout and +partridge spared. At every minute of the day Ripton was thrown into +sweats of suspicion that discovery was imminent, by some stray remark +or message from Adrian. He was as a fish with the hook in his gills, +mysteriously caught without having nibbled; and dive into what depths +he would he was sensible of a summoning force that compelled him +perpetually towards the gasping surface, which he seemed inevitably +approaching when the dinner-bell sounded. There the talk was all of +Farmer Blaize. If it dropped, Adrian revived it, and his caressing way +with Ripton was just such as a keen sportsman feels toward the creature +that had owned his skill, and is making its appearance for the world +to acknowledge the same. Sir Austin saw the manoeuvres, and admired +Adrian's shrewdness. But he had to check the young natural lawyer, +for the effect of so much masked examination upon Richard was growing +baneful. This fish also felt the hook in his gills, but this fish was +more of a pike, and lay in different waters, where there were old +stumps and black roots to wind about, and defy alike strong pulling +and delicate handling. In other words, Richard showed symptoms of a +disposition to take refuge in lies. + +"You know the grounds, my dear boy," Adrian observed to him. "Tell me; +do you think it easy to get to the rick unperceived? I hear they suspect +one of the farmer's turned-off hands." + +"I tell you I don't know the grounds," Richard sullenly replied. + +"Not?" Adrian counterfeited courteous astonishment. "I thought Mr. +Thompson said you were over there yesterday?" + +Ripton, glad to speak the truth, hurriedly assured Adrian that it was +not he had said so. + +"Not? You had good sport, gentlemen, hadn't you?" + +"Oh, yes!" mumbled the wretched victims, reddening as they remembered, +in Adrian's slightly drawled rusticity of tone, Farmer Blaize's first +address to them. + +"I suppose you were among the Fire-worshippers last night, too?" +persisted Adrian. "In some countries, I hear, they manage their best +sport at night-time, and beat up for game with torches. It must be a +fine sight. After all, the country would be dull if we hadn't a rip here +and there to treat us to a little conflagration." + +"A rip!" laughed Richard, to his friend's disgust and alarm at his +daring. "You don't mean this Rip, do you?" + +"Mr. Thompson fire a rick? I should as soon suspect you, my dear +boy.--You are aware, young gentlemen, that it is rather a serious thing +eh? In this country, you know, the landlord has always been the pet +of the Laws. By the way," Adrian continued, as if diverging to +another topic, "you met two gentlemen of the road in your explorations +yesterday, Magians. Now, if I were a magistrate of the county, like Sir +Miles Papworth, my suspicions would light upon those gentlemen. A tinker +and a ploughman, I think you said, Mr. Thompson. Not? Well, say two +ploughmen." + +"More likely two tinkers," said Richard. + +"Oh! if you wish to exclude the ploughman--was he out of employ?" + +Ripton, with Adrian's eyes inveterately fixed on him, stammered an +affirmative. + +"The tinker, or the ploughman?" + +"The ploughm--" Ingenuous Ripton looking about, as if to aid himself +whenever he was able to speak the truth, beheld Richard's face +blackening at him, and swallowed back half the word. + +"The ploughman!" Adrian took him up cheerily. "Then we have here a +ploughman out of employ. Given a ploughman out of employ, and a rick +burnt. The burning of a rick is an act of vengeance, and a ploughman out +of employ is a vengeful animal. The rick and the ploughman are advancing +to a juxtaposition. Motive being established, we have only to prove +their proximity at a certain hour, and our ploughman voyages beyond +seas." + +"Is it transportation for rick-burning?" inquired Ripton aghast. + +Adrian spoke solemnly: "They shave your head. You are manacled. Your +diet is sour bread and cheese-parings. You work in strings of twenties +and thirties. ARSON is branded on your backs in an enormous A. +Theological works are the sole literary recreation of the well-conducted +and deserving. Consider the fate of this poor fellow, and what an act of +vengeance brings him to! Do you know his name?" + +"How should I know his name?" said Richard, with an assumption of +innocence painful to see. + +Sir Austin remarked that no doubt it would soon be known, and Adrian +perceived that he was to quiet his line, marvelling a little at the +baronet's blindness to what was so clear. He would not tell, for that +would ruin his influence with Richard; still he wanted some present +credit for his discernment and devotion. The boys got away from dinner, +and, after deep consultation, agreed upon a course of conduct, which was +to commiserate with Farmer Blaize loudly, and make themselves look as +much like the public as it was possible for two young malefactors to +look, one of whom already felt Adrian's enormous A devouring his back +with the fierceness of the Promethean eagle, and isolating him forever +from mankind. Adrian relished their novel tactics sharply, and led them +to lengths of lamentation for Farmer Blaize. Do what they might, the +hook was in their gills. The farmer's whip had reduced them to bodily +contortions; these were decorous compared with the spiritual writhings +they had to perform under Adrian's manipulation. Ripton was fast +becoming a coward, and Richard a liar, when next morning Austin +Wentworth came over from Poer Hall bringing news that one Mr. Thomas +Bakewell, yeoman, had been arrested on suspicion of the crime of Arson +and lodged in jail, awaiting the magisterial pleasure of Sir Miles +Papworth. Austin's eye rested on Richard as he spoke these terrible +tidings. The hope of Raynham returned his look, perfectly calm, and had, +moreover, the presence of mind not to look at Ripton. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +As soon as they could escape, the boys got together into an obscure +corner of the park, and there took counsel of their extremity. + +"Whatever shall we do now?" asked Ripton of his leader. + +Scorpion girt with fire was never in a more terrible prison-house than +poor Ripton, around whom the raging element he had assisted to create +seemed to be drawing momently narrower circles. + +"There's only one chance," said Richard, coming to a dead halt, and +folding his arms resolutely. + +His comrade inquired with the utmost eagerness what that chance might +be. + +Richard fixed his eyes on a flint, and replied: "We must rescue that +fellow from jail." + +Ripton gazed at his leader, and fell back with astonishment. "My dear +Ricky! but how are we to do it?" + +Richard, still perusing his flint, replied: "We must manage to get a +file in to him and a rope. It can be done, I tell you. I don't care what +I pay. I don't care what I do. He must be got out." + +"Bother that old Blaize!" exclaimed Ripton, taking off his cap to wipe +his frenzied forehead, and brought down his friend's reproof. + +"Never mind old Blaize now. Talk about letting it out! Look at you. I'm +ashamed of you. You talk about Robin Hood and King Richard! Why, you +haven't an atom of courage. Why, you let it out every second of the +day. Whenever Rady begins speaking you start; I can see the perspiration +rolling down you. Are you afraid?--And then you contradict yourself. You +never keep to one story. Now, follow me. We must risk everything to get +him out. Mind that! And keep out of Adrian's way as much as you can. And +keep to one story." + +With these sage directions the young leader marched his +companion-culprit down to inspect the jail where Tom Bakewell lay +groaning over the results of the super-mundane conflict, and the victim +of it that he was. + +In Lobourne Austin Wentworth had the reputation of the poor man's +friend; a title he earned more largely ere he went to the reward God +alone can give to that supreme virtue. Dame Bakewell, the mother of Tom, +on hearing of her son's arrest, had run to comfort him and render him +what help she could; but this was only sighs and tears, and, oh deary +me! which only perplexed poor Tom, who bade her leave an unlucky chap +to his fate, and not make himself a thundering villain. Whereat the +dame begged him to take heart, and he should have a true comforter. "And +though it's a gentleman that's coming to you, Tom--for he never refuses +a poor body," said Mrs. Bakewell, "it's a true Christian, Tom! and the +Lord knows if the sight of him mayn't be the saving of you, for he's +light to look on, and a sermon to listen to, he is!" + +Tom was not prepossessed by the prospect of a sermon, and looked a +sullen dog enough when Austin entered his cell. He was surprised at the +end of half-an-hour to find himself engaged in man-to-man conversation +with a gentleman and a Christian. When Austin rose to go Tom begged +permission to shake his hand. + +"Take and tell young master up at the Abbey that I an't the chap to +peach. He'll know. He's a young gentleman as'll make any man do as he +wants 'em! He's a mortal wild young gentleman! And I'm a Ass! That's +where 'tis. But I an't a blackguard. Tell him that, sir!" + +This was how it came that Austin eyed young Richard seriously while he +told the news at Raynham. The boy was shy of Austin more than of Adrian. +Why, he did not know; but he made it a hard task for Austin to catch him +alone, and turned sulky that instant. Austin was not clever like Adrian: +he seldom divined other people's ideas, and always went the direct road +to his object; so instead of beating about and setting the boy on the +alert at all points, crammed to the muzzle with lies, he just said, "Tom +Bakewell told me to let you know he does not intend to peach on you," +and left him. + +Richard repeated the intelligence to Ripton, who cried aloud that Tom +was a brick. + +"He shan't suffer for it," said Richard, and pondered on a thicker rope +and sharper file. + +"But will your cousin tell?" was Ripton's reflection. + +"He!" Richard's lip expressed contempt. "A ploughman refuses to peach, +and you ask if one of our family will?" + +Ripton stood for the twentieth time reproved on this point. + +The boys had examined the outer walls of the jail, and arrived at the +conclusion that Tom's escape might be managed if Tom had spirit, and the +rope and file could be anyway reached to him. But to do this, somebody +must gain admittance to his cell, and who was to be taken into their +confidence? + +"Try your cousin," Ripton suggested, after much debate. + +Richard, smiling, wished to know if he meant Adrian. + +"No, no!" Ripton hurriedly reassured him. "Austin." + +The same idea was knocking at Richard's head. + +"Let's get the rope and file first," said he, and to Bursley they went +for those implements to defeat the law, Ripton procuring the file at +one shop and Richard the rope at another, with such masterly cunning did +they lay their measures for the avoidance of every possible chance of +detection. And better to assure this, in a wood outside Bursley Richard +stripped to his shirt and wound the rope round his body, tasting the +tortures of anchorites and penitential friars, that nothing should be +risked to make Tom's escape a certainty. Sir Austin saw the marks +at night as his son lay asleep, through the half-opened folds of his +bed-gown. + +It was a severe stroke when, after all their stratagems and trouble, +Austin Wentworth refused the office the boys had zealously designed +for him. Time pressed. In a few days poor Tom would have to face the +redoubtable Sir Miles, and get committed, for rumours of overwhelming +evidence to convict him were rife about Lobourne, and Farmer Blaize's +wrath was unappeasable. Again and again young Richard begged his cousin +not to see him disgraced, and to help him in this extremity. Austin +smiled on him. + +"My dear Ricky," said he, "there are two ways of getting out of a +scrape: a long way and a short way. When you've tried the roundabout +method, and failed, come to me, and I'll show you the straight route." + +Richard was too entirely bent upon the roundabout method to consider +this advice more than empty words, and only ground his teeth at Austin's +unkind refusal. + +He imparted to Ripton, at the eleventh hour, that they must do it +themselves, to which Ripton heavily assented. + +On the day preceding poor Tom's doomed appearance before the magistrate, +Dame Bakewell had an interview with Austin, who went to Raynham +immediately, and sought Adrian's counsel upon what was to be done. +Homeric laughter and nothing else could be got out of Adrian when he +heard of the doings of these desperate boys: how they had entered Dame +Bakewell's smallest of retail shops, and purchased tea, sugar, candles, +and comfits of every description, till the shop was clear of customers: +how they had then hurried her into her little back-parlour, where +Richard had torn open his shirt and revealed the coils of rope, and +Ripton displayed the point of a file from a serpentine recess in his +jacket: how they had then told the astonished woman that the rope she +saw and the file she saw were instruments for the liberation of her son; +that there existed no other means on earth to save him, they, the boys, +having unsuccessfully attempted all: how upon that Richard had tried +with the utmost earnestness to persuade her to disrobe and wind the rope +round her own person: and Ripton had aired his eloquence to induce her +to secrete the file: how, when she resolutely objected to the rope, both +boys began backing the file, and in an evil hour, she feared, said Dame +Bakewell, she had rewarded the gracious permission given her by Sir +Miles Papworth to visit her son, by tempting Tom to file the Law. +Though, thanks be to the Lord! Dame Bakewell added, Tom had turned up +his nose at the file, and so she had told young Master Richard, who +swore very bad for a young gentleman. + +"Boys are like monkeys," remarked Adrian, at the close of his +explosions, "the gravest actors of farcical nonsense that the world +possesses. May I never be where there are no boys! A couple of boys +left to themselves will furnish richer fun than any troop of trained +comedians. No: no Art arrives at the artlessness of nature in matters of +comedy. You can't simulate the ape. Your antics are dull. They haven't +the charming inconsequence of the natural animal. Lack at these two! +Think of the shifts they are put to all day long! They know I know all +about it, and yet their serenity of innocence is all but unruffled in my +presence. You're sorry to think about the end of the business, Austin? +So am I! I dread the idea of the curtain going down. Besides, it will do +Ricky a world of good. A practical lesson is the best lesson." + +"Sinks deepest," said Austin, "but whether he learns good or evil from +it is the question at stake." + +Adrian stretched his length at ease. + +"This will be his first nibble at experience, old Time's fruit, hateful +to the palate of youth! for which season only hath it any nourishment! +Experience! You know Coleridge's capital simile?--Mournful you call it? +Well! all wisdom is mournful. 'Tis therefore, coz, that the wise do +love the Comic Muse. Their own high food would kill them. You shall +find great poets, rare philosophers, night after night on the broad grin +before a row of yellow lights and mouthing masks. Why? Because all's +dark at home. The stage is the pastime of great minds. That's how it +comes that the stage is now down. An age of rampant little minds, my +dear Austin! How I hate that cant of yours about an Age of Work--you, +and your Mortons, and your parsons Brawnley, rank radicals all of you, +base materialists! What does Diaper Sandoe sing of your Age of Work? +Listen! + + 'An Age of betty tit for tat, + An Age of busy gabble: + An Age that's like a brewer's vat, + Fermenting for the rabble! + + 'An Age that's chaste in Love, but lax + To virtuous abuses: + Whose gentlemen and ladies wax + Too dainty for their uses. + + 'An Age that drives an Iron Horse, + Of Time and Space defiant; + Exulting in a Giant's Force, + And trembling at the Giant. + + 'An Age of Quaker hue and cut, + By Mammon misbegotten; + See the mad Hamlet mouth and strut! + And mark the Kings of Cotton! + + 'From this unrest, lo, early wreck'd, + A Future staggers crazy, + Ophelia of the Ages, deck'd + With woeful weed and daisy!'" + +Murmuring, "Get your parson Brawnley to answer that!" Adrian changed +the resting-place of a leg, and smiled. The Age was an old battle-field +between him and Austin. + +"My parson Brawnley, as you call him, has answered it," said Austin, +"not by hoping his best, which would probably leave the Age to go mad +to your satisfaction, but by doing it. And he has and will answer your +Diaper Sandoe in better verse, as he confutes him in a better life." + +"You don't see Sandoe's depth," Adrian replied. "Consider that phrase, +'Ophelia of the Ages'! Is not Brawnley, like a dozen other leading +spirits--I think that's your term just the metaphysical Hamlet to drive +her mad? She, poor maid! asks for marriage and smiling babes, while +my lord lover stands questioning the Infinite, and rants to the +Impalpable." + +Austin laughed. "Marriage and smiling babes she would have in abundance, +if Brawnley legislated. Wait till you know him. He will be over at Poer +Hall shortly, and you will see what a Man of the Age means. But now, +pray, consult with me about these boys." + +"Oh, those boys!" Adrian tossed a hand. "Are there boys of the Age as +well as men? Not? Then boys are better than men: boys are for all Ages. +What do you think, Austin? They've been studying Latude's Escape. +I found the book open in Ricky's room, on the top of Jonathan Wild. +Jonathan preserved the secrets of his profession, and taught them +nothing. So they're going to make a Latude of Mr. Tom Bakewell. He's to +be Bastille Bakewell, whether he will or no. Let them. Let the wild colt +run free! We can't help them. We can only look on. We should spoil the +play." + +Adrian always made a point of feeding the fretful beast Impatience with +pleasantries--a not congenial diet; and Austin, the most patient of +human beings, began to lose his self-control. + +"You talk as if Time belonged to you, Adrian. We have but a few hours +left us. Work first, and joke afterwards. The boy's fate is being +decided now." + +"So is everybody's, my dear Austin!" yawned the epicurean. + +"Yes, but this boy is at present under our guardianship--under yours +especially." + +"Not yet! not yet!" Adrian interjected languidly. "No getting into +scrapes when I have him. The leash, young hound! the collar, young colt! +I'm perfectly irresponsible at present." + +"You may have something different to deal with when you are responsible, +if you think that." + +"I take my young prince as I find him, coz: a Julian, or a Caracalla: +a Constantine, or a Nero. Then, if he will play the fiddle to a +conflagration, he shall play it well: if he must be a disputatious +apostate, at any rate he shall understand logic and men, and have the +habit of saying his prayers." + +"Then you leave me to act alone?" said Austin, rising. + +"Without a single curb!" Adrian gesticulated an acquiesced withdrawal. +"I'm sure you would not, still more certain you cannot, do harm. And be +mindful of my prophetic words: Whatever's done, old Blaize will have to +be bought off. There's the affair settled at once. I suppose I must go +to the chief to-night and settle it myself. We can't see this poor +devil condemned, though it's nonsense to talk of a boy being the prime +instigator." + +Austin cast an eye at the complacent languor of the wise youth, his +cousin, and the little that he knew of his fellows told him he might +talk forever here, and not be comprehended. The wise youth's two ears +were stuffed with his own wisdom. One evil only Adrian dreaded, it was +clear--the action of the law. + +As he was moving away, Adrian called out to him, "Stop, Austin! +There! don't be anxious! You invariably take the glum side. I've done +something. Never mind what. If you go down to Belthorpe, be civil, but +not obsequious. You remember the tactics of Scipio Africanus against the +Punic elephants? Well, don't say a word--in thine ear, coz: I've turned +Master Blaize's elephants. If they charge, 'twill bye a feint, and back +to the destruction of his serried ranks! You understand. Not? Well, 'tis +as well. Only, let none say that I sleep. If I must see him to-night, I +go down knowing he has not got us in his power." The wise youth yawned, +and stretched out a hand for any book that might be within his reach. +Austin left him to look about the grounds for Richard. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +A little laurel-shaded temple of white marble looked out on the river +from a knoll bordering the Raynham beechwoods, and was dubbed by Adrian +Daphne's Bower. To this spot Richard had retired, and there Austin found +him with his head buried in his hands, a picture of desperation, whose +last shift has been defeated. He allowed Austin to greet him and sit by +him without lifting his head. Perhaps his eyes were not presentable. + +"Where's your friend?" Austin began. + +"Gone!" was the answer, sounding cavernous from behind hair and fingers. +An explanation presently followed, that a summons had come for him in +the morning from Mr. Thompson; and that Mr. Ripton had departed against +his will. + +In fact, Ripton had protested that he would defy his parent and remain +by his friend in the hour of adversity and at the post of danger. Sir +Austin signified his opinion that a boy should obey his parent, by +giving orders to Benson for Ripton's box to be packed and ready before +noon; and Ripton's alacrity in taking the baronet's view of filial duty +was as little feigned as his offer to Richard to throw filial duty to +the winds. He rejoiced that the Fates had agreed to remove him from the +very hot neighbourhood of Lobourne, while he grieved, like an honest +lad, to see his comrade left to face calamity alone. The boys parted +amicably, as they could hardly fail to do, when Ripton had sworn fealty +to the Feverals with a warmth that made him declare himself bond, and +due to appear at any stated hour and at any stated place to fight all +the farmers in England, on a mandate from the heir of the house. + +"So you're left alone," said Austin, contemplating the boy's shapely +head. "I'm glad of it. We never know what's in us till we stand by +ourselves." + +There appeared to be no answer forthcoming. Vanity, however, replied at +last, "He wasn't much support." + +"Remember his good points now he's gone, Ricky." + +"Oh! he was staunch," the boy grumbled. + +"And a staunch friend is not always to be found. Now, have you tried +your own way of rectifying this business, Ricky?" + +"I have done everything." + +"And failed!" + +There was a pause, and then the deep-toned evasion-- + +"Tom Bakewell's a coward!" + +"I suppose, poor fellow," said Austin, in his kind way, "he doesn't want +to get into a deeper mess. I don't think he's a coward." + +"He is a coward," cried Richard. "Do you think if I had a file I would +stay in prison? I'd be out the first night! And he might have had the +rope, too--a rope thick enough for a couple of men his size and weight. +Ripton and I and Ned Markham swung on it for an hour, and it didn't +give way. He's a coward, and deserves his fate. I've no compassion for a +coward." + +"Nor I much," said Austin. + +Richard had raised his head in the heat of his denunciation of poor Tom. +He would have hidden it had he known the thought in Austin's clear eyes +while he faced them. + +"I never met a coward myself," Austin continued. "I have heard of one or +two. One let an innocent man die for him." + +"How base!" exclaimed the boy. + +"Yes, it was bad," Austin acquiesced. + +"Bad!" Richard scorned the poor contempt. "How I would have spurned him! +He was a coward!" + +"I believe he pleaded the feelings of his family in his excuse, +and tried every means to get the man off. I have read also in the +confessions of a celebrated philosopher, that in his youth he committed +some act of pilfering, and accused a young servant-girl of his own +theft, who was condemned and dismissed for it, pardoning her guilty +accuser." + +"What a coward!" shouted Richard. "And he confessed it publicly?" + +"You may read it yourself." + +"He actually wrote it down, and printed it?" + +"You have the book in your father's library. Would you have done so +much?" + +Richard faltered. No! he admitted that he never could have told people. + +"Then who is to call that man a coward?" said Austin. "He expiated +his cowardice as all who give way in moments of weakness, and are not +cowards, must do. The coward chooses to think 'God does not see.' I +shall escape.' He who is not a coward, and has succumbed, knows that +God has seen all, and it is not so hard a task for him to make his heart +bare to the world. Worse, I should fancy it, to know myself an impostor +when men praised me." + +Young Richard's eyes were wandering on Austin's gravely cheerful face. A +keen intentness suddenly fixed them, and he dropped his head. + +"So I think you're wrong, Ricky, in calling this poor Tom a coward +because he refuses to try your means of escape," Austin resumed. "A +coward hardly objects to drag in his accomplice. And, where the person +involved belongs to a great family, it seems to me that for a poor +plough-lad to volunteer not to do so speaks him anything but a coward." + +Richard was dumb. Altogether to surrender his rope and file was a +fearful sacrifice, after all the time, trepidation, and study he +had spent on those two saving instruments. If he avowed Tom's manly +behaviour, Richard Feverel was in a totally new position. Whereas, by +keeping Tom a coward, Richard Feverel was the injured one, and to seem +injured is always a luxury; sometimes a necessity, whether among boys or +men. + +In Austin the Magian conflict would not have lasted long. He had but +a blind notion of the fierceness with which it raged in young Richard. +Happily for the boy, Austin was not a preacher. A single instance, a +cant phrase, a fatherly manner, might have wrecked him, by arousing +ancient or latent opposition. The born preacher we feel instinctively +to be our foe. He may do some good to the wretches that have been struck +down and lie gasping on the battlefield: he rouses antagonism in the +strong. Richard's nature, left to itself, wanted little more than an +indication of the proper track, and when he said, "Tell me what I can +do, Austin?" he had fought the best half of the battle. His voice was +subdued. Austin put his hand on the boy's shoulder. + +"You must go down to Farmer Blaize." + +"Well!" said Richard, sullenly divining the deed of penance. + +"You'll know what to say to him when you're there." + +The boy bit his lip and frowned. "Ask a favour of that big brute, +Austin? I can't!" + +"Just tell him the whole case, and that you don't intend to stand by +and let the poor fellow suffer without a friend to help him out of his +scrape." + +"But, Austin," the boy pleaded, "I shall have to ask him to help off Tom +Bakewell! How can I ask him, when I hate him?" + +Austin bade him go, and think nothing of the consequences till he got +there. + +Richard groaned in soul. + +"You've no pride, Austin." + +"Perhaps not." + +"You don't know what it is to ask a favour of a brute you hate." + +Richard stuck to that view of the case, and stuck to it the faster the +more imperatively the urgency of a movement dawned upon him. + +"Why," continued the boy, "I shall hardly be able to keep my fists off +him!" + +"Surely you've punished him enough, boy?" said Austin. + +"He struck me!" Richard's lip quivered. "He dared not come at me with +his hands. He struck me with a whip. He'll be telling everybody that he +horsewhipped me, and that I went down and begged his pardon. Begged his +pardon! A Feverel beg his pardon! Oh, if I had my will!" + +"The man earns his bread, Ricky. You poached on his grounds. He turned +you off, and you fired his rick." + +"And I'll pay him for his loss. And I won't do any more." + +"Because you won't ask a favour of him?" + +"No! I will not ask a favour of him." + +Austin looked at the boy steadily. "You prefer to receive a favour from +poor Tom Bakewell?" + +At Austin's enunciation of this obverse view of the matter Richard +raised his brow. Dimly a new light broke in upon him. "Favour from Tom +Bakewell, the ploughman? How do you mean, Austin?" + +"To save yourself an unpleasantness you permit a country lad to +sacrifice himself for you? I confess I should not have so much pride." + +"Pride!" shouted Richard, stung by the taunt, and set his sight hard at +the blue ridges of the hills. + +Not knowing for the moment what else to do, Austin drew a picture of Tom +in prison, and repeated Tom's volunteer statement. The picture, though +his intentions were far from designing it so, had to Richard, whose +perception of humour was infinitely keener, a horrible chaw-bacon smack +about it. Visions of a grinning lout, open from ear to ear, unkempt, +coarse, splay-footed, rose before him and afflicted him with the +strangest sensations of disgust and comicality, mixed up with pity +and remorse--a sort of twisted pathos. There lay Tom; hobnail Tom! a +bacon-munching, reckless, beer-swilling animal! and yet a man; a +dear brave human heart notwithstanding; capable of devotion and +unselfishness. The boy's better spirit was touched, and it kindled +his imagination to realize the abject figure of poor clodpole Tom, and +surround it with a halo of mournful light. His soul was alive. Feelings +he had never known streamed in upon him as from an ethereal casement, +an unwonted tenderness, an embracing humour, a consciousness of some +ineffable glory, an irradiation of the features of humanity. All this +was in the bosom of the boy, and through it all the vision of an actual +hob-nail Tom, coarse, unkempt, open from ear to ear; whose presence was +a finger of shame to him and an oppression of clodpole; yet toward whom +he felt just then a loving-kindness beyond what he felt for any living +creature. He laughed at him, and wept over him. He prized him, while +he shrank from him. It was a genial strife of the angel in him with +constituents less divine; but the angel was uppermost and led +the van--extinguished loathing, humanized laughter, transfigured +pride--pride that would persistently contemplate the corduroys of gaping +Tom, and cry to Richard, in the very tone of Adrian's ironic voice, +"Behold your benefactor!" + +Austin sat by the boy, unaware of the sublimer tumult he had stirred. +Little of it was perceptible in Richard's countenance. The lines of +his mouth were slightly drawn; his eyes hard set into the distance. He +remained thus many minutes. Finally he jumped to his legs, saying, "I'll +go at once to old Blaize and tell him." + +Austin grasped his hand, and together they issued out of Daphne's Bower, +in the direction of Lobourne. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +Farmer Blaize was not so astonished at the visit of Richard Feverel +as that young gentleman expected him to be. The farmer, seated in +his easy-chair in the little low-roofed parlour of an old-fashioned +farm-house, with a long clay pipe on the table at his elbow, and +a veteran pointer at his feet, had already given audience to three +distinguished members of the Feverel blood, who had come separately, +according to their accustomed secretiveness, and with one object. In the +morning it was Sir Austin himself. Shortly after his departure, arrived +Austin Wentworth; close on his heels, Algernon, known about Lobourne as +the Captain, popular wherever he was known. Farmer Blaize reclined in +considerable elation. He had brought these great people to a pretty low +pitch. He had welcomed them hospitably, as a British yeoman should; +but not budged a foot in his demands: not to the baronet: not to the +Captain: not to good young Mr. Wentworth. For Farmer Blaize was a solid +Englishman; and, on hearing from the baronet a frank confession of the +hold he had on the family, he determined to tighten his hold, and +only relax it in exchange for tangible advantages--compensation to his +pocket, his wounded person, and his still more wounded sentiments: the +total indemnity being, in round figures, three hundred pounds, and a +spoken apology from the prime offender, young Mister Richard. Even then +there was a reservation. Provided, the farmer said, nobody had been +tampering with any of his witnesses. In that ease Farmer Blaize declared +the money might go, and he would transport Tom Bakewell, as he had sworn +he would. And it goes hard, too, with an accomplice, by law, added the +farmer, knocking the ashes leisurely out of his pipe. He had no wish to +bring any disgrace anywhere; he respected the inmates of Raynham Abbey, +as in duty bound; he should be sorry to see them in trouble. Only no +tampering with his witnesses. He was a man for Law. Rank was much: money +was much: but Law was more. In this country Law was above the sovereign. +To tamper with the Law was treason to the realm. + +"I come to you direct," the baronet explained. "I tell you candidly +what way I discovered my son to be mixed up in this miserable affair. I +promise you indemnity for your loss, and an apology that shall, I trust, +satisfy your feelings, assuring you that to tamper with witnesses is not +the province of a Feverel. All I ask of you in return is, not to press +the prosecution. At present it rests with you. I am bound to do all that +lies in my power for this imprisoned man. How and wherefore my son was +prompted to suggest, or assist in, such an act, I cannot explain, for I +do not know." + +"Hum!" said the farmer. "I think I do." + +"You know the cause?" Sir Austin stared. "I beg you to confide it to +me." + +"'Least, I can pretty nigh neighbour it with a gues," said the farmer. +"We an't good friends, Sir Austin, me and your son, just now--not to say +cordial. I, ye see, Sir Austin, I'm a man as don't like young gentlemen +a-poachin' on his grounds without his permission,--in special when birds +is plentiful on their own. It appear he do like it. Consequently I +has to flick this whip--as them fellers at the races: All in this +'ere Ring's mine! as much as to say; and who's been hit, he's had fair +warnin'. I'm sorry for't, but that's just the case." + +Sir Austin retired to communicate with his son, when he should find him. + +Algernon's interview passed off in ale and promises. He also assured +Farmer Blaize that no Feverel could be affected by his proviso. + +No less did Austin Wentworth. The farmer was satisfied. + +"Money's safe, I know," said he; "now for the 'pology!" and Farmer +Blaize thrust his legs further out, and his head further back. + +The farmer naturally reflected that the three separate visits had been +conspired together. Still the baronet's frankness, and the baronet's not +having reserved himself for the third and final charge, puzzled him. He +was considering whether they were a deep, or a shallow lot, when young +Richard was announced. + +A pretty little girl with the roses of thirteen springs in her cheeks, +and abundant beautiful bright tresses, tripped before the boy, and +loitered shyly by the farmer's arm-chair to steal a look at the handsome +new-comer. She was introduced to Richard as the farmer's niece, Lucy +Desborough, the daughter of a lieutenant in the Royal Navy, and, what +was better, though the farmer did not pronounce it so loudly, a real +good girl. + +Neither the excellence of her character, nor her rank in life, tempted +Richard to inspect the little lady. He made an awkward bow, and sat +down. + +The farmer's eyes twinkled. "Her father," he continued, "fought and fell +for his coontry. A man as fights for's coontry's a right to hould up his +head--ay! with any in the land. Desb'roughs o' Dorset! d'ye know that +family, Master Feverel?" + +Richard did not know them, and, by his air, did not desire to become +acquainted with any offshoot of that family. + +"She can make puddens and pies," the farmer went on, regardless of his +auditor's gloom. "She's a lady, as good as the best of 'em. I don't care +about their being Catholics--the Desb'roughs o' Dorset are gentlemen. +And she's good for the pianer, too! She strums to me of evenin's. I'm +for the old tunes: she's for the new. Gal-like! While she's with me she +shall be taught things use'l. She can parley-voo a good 'un and foot it, +as it goes; been in France a couple of year. I prefer the singin' of +'t to the talkin' of 't. Come, Luce! toon up--eh?--Ye wun't? That +song abort the Viffendeer--a female"--Farmer Blaize volunteered the +translation of the title--"who wears the--you guess what! and marches +along with the French sojers: a pretty brazen bit o' goods, I sh'd +fancy." + +Mademoiselle Lucy corrected her uncle's French, but objected to do more. +The handsome cross boy had almost taken away her voice for speech, as it +was, and sing in his company she could not; so she stood, a hand on her +uncle's chair to stay herself from falling, while she wriggled a dozen +various shapes of refusal, and shook her head at the farmer with fixed +eyes. + +"Aha!" laughed the farmer, dismissing her, "they soon learn the +difference 'twixt the young 'un and the old 'un. Go along, Luce! and +learn yer lessons for to-morrow." + +Reluctantly the daughter of the Royal Navy glided away. Her uncle's head +followed her to the door, where she dallied to catch a last impression +of the young stranger's lowering face, and darted through. + +Farmer Blaize laughed and chuckled. "She an't so fond of her uncle as +that, every day! Not that she an't a good nurse--the kindest little soul +you'd meet of a winter's walk! She'll read t' ye, and make drinks, and +sing, too, if ye likes it, and she won't be tired. A obstinate good 'un, +she be! Bless her!" + +The farmer may have designed, by these eulogies of his niece, to give +his visitor time to recover his composure, and establish a common +topic. His diversion only irritated and confused our shame-eaten youth. +Richard's intention had been to come to the farmer's threshold: to +summon the farmer thither, and in a loud and haughty tone then and +there to take upon himself the whole burden of the charge against Tom +Bakewell. He had strayed, during his passage to Belthorpe, somewhat back +to his old nature; and his being compelled to enter the house of his +enemy, sit in his chair, and endure an introduction to his family, was +more than he bargained for. He commenced blinking hard in preparation +for the horrible dose to which delay and the farmer's cordiality added +inconceivable bitters. Farmer Blaize was quite at his ease; nowise in a +hurry. He spoke of the weather and the harvest: of recent doings up at +the Abbey: glanced over that year's cricketing; hoped that no future +Feverel would lose a leg to the game. Richard saw and heard Arson in it +all. He blinked harder as he neared the cup. In a moment of silence, he +seized it with a gasp. + +"Mr. Blaize! I have come to tell you that I am the person who set fire +to your rick the other night." + +An odd consternation formed about the farmer's mouth. He changed his +posture, and said, "Ay? that's what ye're come to tell me sir?" + +"Yes!" said Richard, firmly. + +"And that be all?" + +"Yes!" Richard reiterated. + +The farmer again changed his posture. "Then, my lad, ye've come to tell +me a lie!" + +Farmer Blaize looked straight at the boy, undismayed by the dark flush +of ire he had kindled. + +"You dare to call me a liar!" cried Richard, starting up. + +"I say," the farmer renewed his first emphasis, and smacked his thigh +thereto, "that's a lie!" + +Richard held out his clenched fist. "You have twice insulted me. +You have struck me: you have dared to call me a liar. I would have +apologized--I would have asked your pardon, to have got off that fellow +in prison. Yes! I would have degraded myself that another man should not +suffer for my deed"-- + +"Quite proper!" interposed the farmer. + +"And you take this opportunity of insulting me afresh. You're a coward, +sir! nobody but a coward would have insulted me in his own house." + +"Sit ye down, sit ye down, young master," said the farmer, indicating +the chair and cooling the outburst with his hand. "Sit ye down. Don't +ye be hasty. If ye hadn't been hasty t'other day, we sh'd a been friends +yet. Sit ye down, sir. I sh'd be sorry to reckon you out a liar, Mr. +Feverel, or anybody o' your name. I respects yer father though we're +opp'site politics. I'm willin' to think well o' you. What I say is, that +as you say an't the trewth. Mind! I don't like you none the worse for't. +But it an't what is. That's all! You knows it as well's I!" + +Richard, disdaining to show signs of being pacified, angrily reseated +himself. The farmer spoke sense, and the boy, after his late interview +with Austin, had become capable of perceiving vaguely that a towering +passion is hardly the justification for a wrong course of conduct. + +"Come," continued the farmer, not unkindly, "what else have you to say?" + +Here was the same bitter cup he had already once drained brimming at +Richard's lips again! Alas, poor human nature! that empties to the dregs +a dozen of these evil drinks, to evade the single one which Destiny, +less cruel, had insisted upon. + +The boy blinked and tossed it off. + +"I came to say that I regretted the revenge I had taken on you for your +striking me." + +Farmer Blaize nodded. + +"And now ye've done, young gentleman?" + +Still another cupful! + +"I should be very much obliged," Richard formally began, but his stomach +was turned; he could but sip and sip, and gather a distaste which +threatened to make the penitential act impossible. "Very much obliged," +he repeated: "much obliged, if you would be so kind," and it struck him +that had he spoken this at first he would have given it a wording +more persuasive with the farmer and more worthy of his own pride: more +honest, in fact: for a sense of the dishonesty of what he was saying +caused him to cringe and simulate humility to deceive the farmer, and +the more he said the less he felt his words, and, feeling them less, he +inflated them more. "So kind," he stammered, "so kind" (fancy a Feverel +asking this big brute to be so kind!) "as to do me the favour" (me the +favour!) "to exert yourself" (it's all to please Austin) "to endeavour +to--hem! to" (there's no saying it!)-- + +The cup was full as ever. Richard dashed at it again. + +"What I came to ask is, whether you would have the kindness to try what +you could do" (what an infamous shame to have to beg like this!) "do to +save--do to ensure--whether you would have the kindness" It seemed +out of all human power to gulp it down. The draught grew more and +more abhorrent. To proclaim one's iniquity, to apologize for one's +wrongdoing; thus much could be done; but to beg a favour of the offended +party--that was beyond the self-abasement any Feverel could consent to. +Pride, however, whose inevitable battle is against itself, drew aside +the curtains of poor Tom's prison, crying a second time, "Behold your +Benefactor!" and, with the words burning in his ears, Richard swallowed +the dose: + +"Well, then, I want you, Mr. Blaize,--if you don't mind--will you help +me to get this man Bakewell off his punishment?" + +To do Farmer Blaize justice, he waited very patiently for the boy, +though he could not quite see why he did not take the gate at the first +offer. + +"Oh!" said he, when he heard and had pondered on the request. "Hum! ha! +we'll see about it t'morrow. But if he's innocent, you know, we shan't +mak'n guilty." + +"It was I did it!" Richard declared. + +The farmer's half-amused expression sharpened a bit. + +"So, young gentleman! and you're sorry for the night's work?" + +"I shall see that you are paid the full extent of your losses." + +"Thank'ee," said the farmer drily. + +"And, if this poor man is released to-morrow, I don't care what the +amount is." + +Farmer Blaize deflected his head twice in silence. "Bribery," one motion +expressed: "Corruption," the other. + +"Now," said he, leaning forward, and fixing his elbows on his knees, +while he counted the case at his fingers' ends, "excuse the liberty, but +wishin' to know where this 'ere money's to come from, I sh'd like jest +t'ask if so be Sir Austin know o' this?" + +"My father knows nothing of it," replied Richard. + +The farmer flung back in his chair. "Lie number Two," said his +shoulders, soured by the British aversion to being plotted at, and not +dealt with openly. + +"And ye've the money ready, young gentleman?" + +"I shall ask my father for it." + +"And he'll hand't out?" + +"Certainly he will!" + +Richard had not the slightest intention of ever letting his father into +his counsels. + +"A good three hundred pounds, ye know?" the farmer suggested. + +No consideration of the extent of damages, and the size of the sum, +affected young Richard, who said boldly, "He will not object when I tell +him I want that sum." + +It was natural Farmer Blaize should be a trifle suspicious that a +youth's guarantee would hardly be given for his father's readiness to +disburse such a thumping bill, unless he had previously received his +father's sanction and authority. + +"Hum!" said he, "why not 'a told him before?" + +The farmer threw an objectionable shrewdness into his query, that caused +Richard to compress his mouth and glance high. + +Farmer Blaize was positive 'twas a lie. + +"Hum! Ye still hold to't you fired the rick?" he asked. + +"The blame is mine!" quoth Richard, with the loftiness of a patriot of +old Rome. + +"Na, na!" the straightforward Briton put him aside. "Ye did't, or ye +didn't do't. Did ye do't, or no?" + +Thrust in a corner, Richard said, "I did it." + +Farmer Blaize reached his hand to the bell. It was answered in an +instant by little Lucy, who received orders to fetch in a dependent at +Belthorpe going by the name of the Bantam, and made her exit as she had +entered, with her eyes on the young stranger. + +"Now," said the farmer, "these be my principles. I'm a plain man, +Mr. Feverel. Above board with me, and you'll find me handsome. Try to +circumvent me, and I'm a ugly customer. I'll show you I've no animosity. +Your father pays--you apologize. That's enough for me! Let Tom Bakewell +fight't out with the Law, and I'll look on. The Law wasn't on the spot, +I suppose? so the Law ain't much witness. But I am. Leastwise the Bantam +is. I tell you, young gentleman, the Bantam saw't! It's no moral use +whatever your denyin' that ev'dence. And where's the good, sir, I +ask? What comes of 't? Whether it be you, or whether it be Tom +Bakewell--ain't all one? If I holds back, ain't it sim'lar? It's the +trewth I want! And here't comes," added the farmer, as Miss Lucy ushered +in the Bantam, who presented a curious figure for that rare divinity to +enliven. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +In build of body, gait and stature, Giles Jinkson, the Bantam, was a +tolerably fair representative of the Punic elephant, whose part, with +diverse anticipations, the generals of the Blaize and Feverel forces, +from opposing ranks, expected him to play. Giles, surnamed the Bantam, +on account of some forgotten sally of his youth or infancy, moved and +looked elephantine. It sufficed that Giles was well fed to assure that +Giles was faithful--if uncorrupted. The farm which supplied to him +ungrudging provender had all his vast capacity for work in willing +exercise: the farmer who held the farm his instinct reverenced as the +fountain source of beef and bacon, to say nothing of beer, which was +plentiful at Belthorpe, and good. This Farmer Blaize well knew, and he +reckoned consequently that here was an animal always to be relied on--a +sort of human composition out of dog, horse, and bull, a cut above each +of these quadrupeds in usefulness, and costing proportionately more, but +on the whole worth the money, and therefore invaluable, as everything +worth its money must be to a wise man. When the stealing of grain had +been made known at Belthorpe, the Bantam, a fellow-thresher with Tom +Bakewell, had shared with him the shadow of the guilt. Farmer Blaize, +if he hesitated which to suspect, did not debate a second as to which +he would discard; and, when the Bantam said he had seen Tom secreting +pilkins in a sack, Farmer Blaize chose to believe him, and off went +poor Tom, told to rejoice in the clemency that spared his appearance at +Sessions. + +The Bantam's small sleepy orbits saw many things, and just at the +right moment, it seemed. He was certainly the first to give the clue at +Belthorpe on the night of the conflagration, and he may, therefore, have +seen poor Tom retreating stealthily from the scene, as he averred he +did. Lobourne had its say on the subject. Rustic Lobourne hinted broadly +at a young woman in the case, and, moreover, told a tale of how these +fellow-threshers had, in noble rivalry, one day turned upon each other +to see which of the two threshed the best; whereof the Bantam still bore +marks, and malice, it was said. However, there he stood, and tugged his +forelocks to the company, and if Truth really had concealed herself in +him she must have been hard set to find her unlikeliest hiding-place. + +"Now," said the farmer, marshalling forth his elephant with the +confidence of one who delivers his ace of trumps, "tell this young +gentleman what ye saw on the night of the fire, Bantam!" + +The Bantam jerked a bit of a bow to his patron, and then swung round, +fully obscuring him from Richard. + +Richard fixed his eyes on the floor, while the Bantam in rudest Doric +commenced his narrative. Knowing what was to come, and thoroughly nerved +to confute the main incident, Richard barely listened to his barbarous +locution: but when the recital arrived at the point where the Bantam +affirmed he had seen "T'm Baak'll wi's owen hoies," Richard faced him, +and was amazed to find himself being mutely addressed by a series of +intensely significant grimaces, signs, and winks. + +"What do you mean? Why are you making those faces at me?" cried the boy +indignantly. + +Farmer Blaize leaned round the Bantam to have a look at him, and beheld +the stolidest mask ever given to man. + +"Bain't makin' no faces at nobody," growled the sulky elephant. + +The farmer commanded him to face about and finish. + +"A see T'm Baak'll," the Bantam recommenced, and again the contortions +of a horrible wink were directed at Richard. The boy might well believe +this churl was lying, and he did, and was emboldened to exclaim-- + +"You never saw Tom Bakewell set fire to that rick!" + +The Bantam swore to it, grimacing an accompaniment. + +"I tell you," said Richard, "I put the lucifers there myself!" + +The suborned elephant was staggered. He meant to telegraph to the young +gentleman that he was loyal and true to certain gold pieces that had +been given him, and that in the right place and at the right time he +should prove so. Why was he thus suspected? Why was he not understood? + +"A thowt I see 'un, then," muttered the Bantam, trying a middle course. + +This brought down on him the farmer, who roared, "Thought! Ye thought! +What d'ye mean? Speak out, and don't be thinkin'. Thought? What the +devil's that?" + +"How could he see who it was on a pitch-dark night?" Richard put in. + +"Thought!" the farmer bellowed louder. "Thought--Devil take ye, when ye +took ye oath on't. Hulloa! What are ye screwin' yer eye at Mr. Feverel +for?--I say, young gentleman, have you spoke to this chap before now?" + +"I?" replied Richard. "I have not seen him before." + +Farmer Blaize grasped the two arms of the chair he sat on, and glared +his doubts. + +"Come," said he to the Bantam, "speak out, and ha' done wi't. Say what +ye saw, and none o' yer thoughts. Damn yer thoughts! Ye saw Tom Bakewell +fire that there rick!" The farmer pointed at some musk-pots in the +window. "What business ha' you to be a-thinkin'? You're a witness? +Thinkin' an't ev'dence. What'll ye say to morrow before magistrate! +Mind! what you says today, you'll stick by to-morrow." + +Thus adjured, the Bantam hitched his breech. What on earth the young +gentleman meant he was at a loss to speculate. He could not believe that +the young gentleman wanted to be transported, but if he had been paid +to help that, why, he would. And considering that this day's evidence +rather bound him down to the morrow's, he determined, after much +ploughing and harrowing through obstinate shocks of hair, to be not +altogether positive as to the person. It is possible that he became +thereby more a mansion of truth than he previously had been; for the +night, as he said, was so dark that you could not see your hand before +your face; and though, as he expressed it, you might be mortal sure of +a man, you could not identify him upon oath, and the party he had taken +for Tom Bakewell, and could have sworn to, might have been the young +gentleman present, especially as he was ready to swear it upon oath. + +So ended the Bantam. + +No sooner had he ceased, than Farmer Blaize jumped up from his chair, +and made a fine effort to lift him out of the room from the point of his +toe. He failed, and sank back groaning with the pain of the exertion and +disappointment. + +"They're liars, every one!" he cried. "Liars, perj'rers, bribers, and +c'rrupters!--Stop!" to the Bantam, who was slinking away. "You've done +for yerself already! You swore to it!" + +"A din't!" said the Bantam, doggedly. + +"You swore to't!" the farmer vociferated afresh. + +The Bantam played a tune upon the handle of the door, and still affirmed +that he did not; a double contradiction at which the farmer absolutely +raged in his chair, and was hoarse, as he called out a third time that +the Bantam had sworn to it. + +"Noa!" said the Bantam, ducking his poll. "Noa!" he repeated in a lower +note; and then, while a sombre grin betokening idiotic enjoyment of his +profound casuistical quibble worked at his jaw: + +"Not up'n o-ath!" he added, with a twitch of the shoulder and an angular +jerk of the elbow. + +Farmer Blaize looked vacantly at Richard, as if to ask him what he +thought of England's peasantry after the sample they had there. Richard +would have preferred not to laugh, but his dignity gave way to his sense +of the ludicrous, and he let fly a shout. The farmer was in no +laughing mood. He turned a wide eye back to the door, "Lucky for'm," +he exclaimed, seeing the Bantam had vanished, for his fingers itched +to break that stubborn head. He grew very puffy, and addressed Richard +solemnly: + +"Now, look ye here, Mr. Feverel! You've been a-tampering with my +witness. It's no use denyin'! I say y' 'ave, sir! You, or some of ye. +I don't care about no Feverel! My witness there has been bribed. The +Bantam's been bribed," and he shivered his pipe with an energetic thump +on the table--"bribed! I knows it! I could swear to't!"-- + +"Upon oath?" Richard inquired, with a grave face. + +"Ay, upon oath!" said the farmer, not observing the impertinence. + +"I'd take my Bible oath on't! He's been corrupted, my principal witness! +Oh! it's dam cunnin', but it won't do the trick. I'll transport Tom +Bakewell, sure as a gun. He shall travel, that man shall. Sorry for +you, Mr. Feverel--sorry you haven't seen how to treat me proper--you, or +yours. Money won't do everything--no! it won't. It'll c'rrupt a witness, +but it won't clear a felon. I'd ha' 'soused you, sir! You're a boy +and'll learn better. I asked no more than payment and apology; and that +I'd ha' taken content--always provided my witnesses weren't tampered +with. Now you must stand yer luck, all o' ye." + +Richard stood up and replied, "Very well, Mr. Blaize." + +"And if," continued the farmer, "Tom Bakewell don't drag you into't +after 'm, why, you're safe, as I hope ye'll be, sincere!" + +"It was not in consideration of my own safety that I sought this +interview with you," said Richard, head erect. + +"Grant ye that," the farmer responded. "Grant ye that! Yer bold enough, +young gentleman--comes of the blood that should be! If y' had only ha' +spoke trewth!--I believe yer father--believe every word he said. I do +wish I could ha' said as much for Sir Austin's son and heir." + +"What!" cried Richard, with an astonishment hardly to be feigned, "you +have seen my father?" + +But Farmer Blaize had now such a scent for lies that he could detect +them where they did not exist, and mumbled gruffly, + +"Ay, we knows all about that!" + +The boy's perplexity saved him from being irritated. Who could have told +his father? An old fear of his father came upon him, and a touch of an +old inclination to revolt. + +"My father knows of this?" said he, very loudly, and staring, as he +spoke, right through the farmer. "Who has played me false? Who would +betray me to him? It was Austin! No one knew it but Austin. Yes, and +it was Austin who persuaded me to come here and submit to these +indignities. Why couldn't he be open with me? I shall never trust him +again!" + +"And why not you with me, young gentleman?" said the farmer. "I sh'd +trust you if ye had." + +Richard did not see the analogy. He bowed stiffly and bade him good +afternoon. + +Farmer Blaize pulled the bell. "Company the young gentleman out, Lucy," +he waved to the little damsel in the doorway. "Do the honours. And, Mr. +Richard, ye might ha' made a friend o' me, sir, and it's not too late so +to do. I'm not cruel, but I hate lies. I whipped my boy Tom, bigger +than you, for not bein' above board, only yesterday,--ay! made 'un stand +within swing o' this chair, and take's measure. Now, if ye'll come down +to me, and speak trewth before the trial--if it's only five minutes +before't; or if Sir Austin, who's a gentleman, 'll say there's been no +tamperin' with any o' my witnesses, his word for't--well and good! I'll +do my best to help off Tom Bakewell. And I'm glad, young gentleman, +you've got a conscience about a poor man, though he's a villain. Good +afternoon, sir." + +Richard marched hastily out of the room, and through the garden, never +so much as deigning a glance at his wistful little guide, who hung at +the garden gate to watch him up the lane, wondering a world of fancies +about the handsome proud boy. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +To have determined upon an act something akin to heroism in its way, +and to have fulfilled it by lying heartily, and so subverting the whole +structure built by good resolution, seems a sad downfall if we forget +what human nature, in its green weedy spring, is composed of. Young +Richard had quitted his cousin Austin fully resolved to do his penance +and drink the bitter cup; and he had drunk it; drained many cups to the +dregs; and it was to no purpose. Still they floated before him, brimmed, +trebly bitter. Away from Austin's influence, he was almost the same boy +who had slipped the guinea into Tom Bakewell's hand, and the lucifers +into Farmer Blaize's rick. For good seed is long ripening; a good boy is +not made in a minute. Enough that the seed was in him. He chafed on +his road to Raynham at the scene he had just endured, and the figure of +Belthorpe's fat tenant burnt like hot copper on the tablet of his brain, +insufferably condescending, and, what was worse, in the right. Richard, +obscured as his mind's eye was by wounded pride, saw that clearly, and +hated his enemy for it the more. + +Heavy Benson's tongue was knelling dinner as Richard arrived at the +Abbey. He hurried up to his room to dress. Accident, or design, had laid +the book of Sir Austin's aphorisms open on the dressing-table. Hastily +combing his hair, Richard glanced down and read-- + + "The Dog returneth to his vomit: the Liar must eat his Lie." + +Underneath was interjected in pencil: "The Devil's mouthful!" + +Young Richard ran downstairs feeling that his father had struck him in +the face. + +Sir Austin marked the scarlet stain on his son's cheekbones. He sought +the youth's eye, but Richard would not look, and sat conning his plate, +an abject copy of Adrian's succulent air at that employment. How +could he pretend to the relish of an epicure when he was painfully +endeavouring to masticate The Devil's mouthful? + +Heavy Benson sat upon the wretched dinner. Hippias usually the silent +member, as if awakened by the unnatural stillness, became sprightly, +like the goatsucker owl at night and spoke much of his book, his +digestion, and his dreams, and was spared both by Algernon and Adrian. +One inconsequent dream he related, about fancying himself quite young +and rich, and finding himself suddenly in a field cropping razors +around him, when, just as he had, by steps dainty as those of a French +dancing-master, reached the middle, he to his dismay beheld a path clear +of the blood, thirsty steel-crop, which he might have taken at first had +he looked narrowly; and there he was. + +Hippias's brethren regarded him with eyes that plainly said they wished +he had remained there. Sir Austin, however, drew forth his note-book, +and jotted down a reflection. A composer of aphorisms can pluck blossoms +even from a razor-prop. Was not Hippias's dream the very counterpart +of Richard's position? He, had he looked narrowly, might have taken the +clear path: he, too, had been making dainty steps till he was surrounded +by the grinning blades. And from that text Sir Austin preached to +his son when they were alone. Little Clare was still too unwell to be +permitted to attend the dessert, and father and son were soon closeted +together. + +It was a strange meeting. They seemed to have been separated so long. +The father took his son's hand; they sat without a word passing between +them. Silence said most. The boy did not understand his father: his +father frequently thwarted him: at times he thought his father foolish: +but that paternal pressure of his hand was eloquent to him of how warmly +he was beloved. He tried once or twice to steal his hand away, conscious +it was melting him. The spirit of his pride, and old rebellion, +whispered him to be hard, unbending, resolute. Hard he had entered his +father's study: hard he had met his father's eyes. He could not meet +them now. His father sat beside him gently; with a manner that was +almost meekness, so he loved this boy. The poor gentleman's lips moved. +He was praying internally to God for him. + +By degrees an emotion awoke in the boy's bosom. Love is that blessed +wand which wins the waters from the hardness of the heart. Richard +fought against it, for the dignity of old rebellion. The tears would +come; hot and struggling over the dams of pride. Shamefully fast they +began to fall. He could no longer conceal them, or check the sobs. Sir +Austin drew him nearer and nearer, till the beloved head was on his +breast. + +An hour afterwards, Adrian Harley, Austin Wentworth, and Algernon +Feverel were summoned to the baronet's study. + +Adrian came last. There was a style of affable omnipotence about the +wise youth as he slung himself into a chair, and made an arch of the +points of his fingers, through which to gaze on his blundering kinsmen. +Careless as one may be whose sagacity has foreseen, and whose benevolent +efforts have forestalled, the point of danger at the threshold, Adrian +crossed his legs, and only intruded on their introductory remarks so far +as to hum half audibly at intervals, + + "Ripton and Richard were two pretty men," + +in parody of the old ballad. Young Richard's red eyes, and the baronet's +ruffled demeanour, told him that an explanation had taken place, and +a reconciliation. That was well. The baronet would now pay cheerfully. +Adrian summed and considered these matters, and barely listened when the +baronet called attention to what he had to say: which was elaborately +to inform all present, what all present very well knew, that a rick had +been fired, that his son was implicated as an accessory to the fact, +that the perpetrator was now imprisoned, and that Richard's family were, +as it seemed to him, bound in honour to do their utmost to effect the +man's release. + +Then the baronet stated that he had himself been down to Belthorpe, his +son likewise: and that he had found every disposition in Blaize to meet +his wishes. + +The lamp which ultimately was sure to be lifted up to illumine the +acts of this secretive race began slowly to dispread its rays; and, +as statement followed statement, they saw that all had known of the +business: that all had been down to Belthorpe: all save the wise youth +Adrian, who, with due deference and a sarcastic shrug, objected to the +proceeding, as putting them in the hands of the man Blaize. His wisdom +shone forth in an oration so persuasive and aphoristic that had it +not been based on a plea against honour, it would have made Sir Austin +waver. But its basis was expediency, and the baronet had a better +aphorism of his own to confute him with. + +"Expediency is man's wisdom, Adrian Harley. Doing right is God's." + +Adrian curbed his desire to ask Sir Austin whether an attempt to +counteract the just working of the law was doing right. The direct +application of an aphorism was unpopular at Raynham. + +"I am to understand then," said he, "that Blaize consents not to press +the prosecution." + +"Of course he won't," Algernon remarked. "Confound him! he'll have his +money, and what does he want besides?" + +"These agricultural gentlemen are delicate customers to deal with. +However, if he really consents"-- + +"I have his promise," said the baronet, fondling his son. + +Young Richard looked up to his father, as if he wished to speak. He said +nothing, and Sir Austin took it as a mute reply to his caresses; and +caressed him the more. Adrian perceived a reserve in the boy's manner, +and as he was not quite satisfied that his chief should suppose him to +have been the only idle, and not the most acute and vigilant member of +the family, he commenced a cross-examination of him by asking who had +last spoken with the tenant of Belthorpe? + +"I think I saw him last," murmured Richard, and relinquished his +father's hand. + +Adrian fastened on his prey. "And left him with a distinct and +satisfactory assurance of his amicable intentions?" + +"No," said Richard. + +"Not?" the Feverels joined in astounded chorus. + +Richard sidled away from his father, and repeated a shamefaced "No." + +"Was he hostile?" inquired Adrian, smoothing his palms, and smiling. + +"Yes," the boy confessed. + +Here was quite another view of their position. Adrian, generally patient +of results, triumphed strongly at having evoked it, and turned upon +Austin Wentworth, reproving him for inducing the boy to go down to +Belthorpe. Austin looked grieved. He feared that Richard had faded in +his good resolve. + +"I thought it his duty to go," he observed. + +"It was!" said the baronet, emphatically. + +"And you see what comes of it, sir," Adrian struck in. "These +agricultural gentlemen, I repeat, are delicate customers to deal with. +For my part I would prefer being in the hands of a policeman. We are +decidedly collared by Blaize. What were his words, Ricky? Give it in his +own Doric." + +"He said he would transport Tom Bakewell." + +Adrian smoothed his palms, and smiled again. Then they could afford to +defy Mr. Blaize, he informed them significantly, and made once more a +mysterious allusion to the Punic elephant, bidding his relatives be +at peace. They were attaching, in his opinion, too much importance +to Richard's complicity. The man was a fool, and a very extraordinary +arsonite, to have an accomplice at all. It was a thing unknown in the +annals of rick-burning. But one would be severer than law itself to say +that a boy of fourteen had instigated to crime a full-grown man. At that +rate the boy was 'father of the man' with a vengeance, and one might +hear next that 'the baby was father of the boy.' They would find common +sense a more benevolent ruler than poetical metaphysics. + +When he had done, Austin, with his customary directness, asked him what +he meant. + +"I confess, Adrian," said the baronet, hearing him expostulate with +Austin's stupidity, "I for one am at a loss. I have heard that this man, +Bakewell, chooses voluntarily not to inculpate my son. Seldom have I +heard anything that so gratified me. It is a view of innate nobleness in +the rustic's character which many a gentleman might take example from. +We are bound to do our utmost for the man." And, saying that he should +pay a second visit to Belthorpe, to inquire into the reasons for the +farmer's sudden exposition of vindictiveness, Sir Austin rose. + +Before he left the room, Algernon asked Richard if the farmer had +vouchsafed any reasons, and the boy then spoke of the tampering with +the witnesses, and the Bantam's "Not upon oath!" which caused Adrian to +choke with laughter. Even the baronet smiled at so cunning a distinction +as that involved in swearing a thing, and not swearing it upon oath. + +"How little," he exclaimed, "does one yeoman know another! To elevate +a distinction into a difference is the natural action of their minds. +I will point that out to Blaize. He shall see that the idea is native +born." + +Richard saw his father go forth. Adrian, too, was ill at ease. + +"This trotting down to Belthorpe spoils all," said he. "The affair would +pass over to-morrow--Blaize has no witnesses. The old rascal is only +standing out for more money." + +"No, he isn't," Richard corrected him. "It's not that. I'm sure he +believes his witnesses have been tampered with, as he calls it." + +"What if they have, boy?" Adrian put it boldly. "The ground is cut from +under his feet." + +"Blaize told me that if my father would give his word there had been +nothing of the sort, he would take it. My father will give his word." + +"Then," said Adrian, "you had better stop him from going down." + +Austin looked at Adrian keenly, and questioned him whether he thought +the farmer was justified in his suspicions. The wise youth was not to be +entrapped. He had only been given to understand that the witnesses were +tolerably unstable, and, like the Bantam, ready to swear lustily, but +not upon the Book. How given to understand, he chose not to explain, +but he reiterated that the chief should not be allowed to go down to +Belthorpe. + +Sir Austin was in the lane leading to the farm when he heard steps of +some one running behind him. It was dark, and he shook off the hand that +laid hold of his cloak, roughly, not recognizing his son. + +"It's I, sir," said Richard panting. "Pardon me. You mustn't go in +there." + +"Why not?" said the baronet, putting his arm about him. + +"Not now," continued the boy. "I will tell you all to-night. I must see +the farmer myself. It was my fault, sir. I-I lied to him--the Liar must +eat his Lie. Oh, forgive me for disgracing you, sir. I did it--I hope I +did it to save Tom Bakewell. Let me go in alone, and speak the truth." + +"Go, and I will wait for you here," said his father. + +The wind that bowed the old elms, and shivered the dead leaves in the +air, had a voice and a meaning for the baronet during that half-hour's +lonely pacing up and down under the darkness, awaiting his boy's return. +The solemn gladness of his heart gave nature a tongue. Through the +desolation flying overhead--the wailing of the Mother of Plenty across +the bare-swept land--he caught intelligible signs of the beneficent +order of the universe, from a heart newly confirmed in its grasp of the +principle of human goodness, as manifested in the dear child who had +just left him; confirmed in its belief in the ultimate victory of good +within us, without which nature has neither music nor meaning, and is +rock, stone, tree, and nothing more. + +In the dark, the dead leaves beating on his face, he had a word for his +note-book: "There is for the mind but one grasp of happiness: from that +uppermost pinnacle of wisdom, whence we see that this world is well +designed." + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +Of all the chief actors in the Bakewell Comedy, Master Ripton Thompson +awaited the fearful morning which was to decide Tom's fate, in +dolefullest mood, and suffered the gravest mental terrors. Adrian, on +parting with him, had taken casual occasion to speak of the position of +the criminal in modern Europe, assuring him that International Treaty +now did what Universal Empire had aforetime done, and that among +Atlantic barbarians now, as among the Scythians of old, an offender +would find precarious refuge and an emissary haunting him. + +In the paternal home, under the roofs of Law, and removed from the +influence of his conscienceless young chief, the staggering nature of +the act he had put his hand to, its awful felonious aspect, overwhelmed +Ripton. He saw it now for the first time. "Why, it's next to murder!" +he cried out to his amazed soul, and wandered about the house with a +prickly skin. Thoughts of America, and commencing life afresh as an +innocent gentleman, had crossed his disordered brain. He wrote to his +friend Richard, proposing to collect disposable funds, and embark, in +case of Tom's breaking his word, or of accidental discovery. He dared +not confide the secret to his family, as his leader had sternly enjoined +him to avoid any weakness of that kind; and, being by nature honest and +communicative, the restriction was painful, and melancholy fell upon the +boy. Mama Thompson attributed it to love. + +The daughters of parchment rallied him concerning Miss Clare Forey. His +hourly letters to Raynham, and silence as to everything and everybody +there, his nervousness, and unwonted propensity to sudden inflammation +of the cheeks, were set down for sure signs of the passion. Miss Letitia +Thompson, the pretty and least parchmenty one, destined by her Papa for +the heir of Raynham, and perfectly aware of her brilliant future, up +to which she had, since Ripton's departure, dressed and grimaced, and +studied cadences (the latter with such success, though not yet +fifteen, that she languished to her maid, and melted the small factotum +footman)--Miss Letty, whose insatiable thirst for intimations about the +young heir Ripton could not satisfy, tormented him daily in revenge, +and once, quite unconsciously, gave the lad a fearful turn; for after +dinner, when Mr. Thompson read the paper by the fire, preparatory to +sleeping at his accustomed post, and Mama Thompson and her submissive +female brood sat tasking the swift intricacies of the needle, and +emulating them with the tongue, Miss Letty stole behind Ripton's chair, +and introduced between him and his book the Latin initial letter, large +and illuminated, of the theme she supposed to be absorbing him, as +it did herself. The unexpected vision of this accusing Captain of the +Alphabet, this resplendent and haunting A. fronting him bodily, threw +Ripton straight back in his chair, while Guilt, with her ancient +indecision what colours to assume on detection, flew from red to white, +from white to red, across his fallen chaps. Letty laughed triumphantly. +Amor, the word she had in mind, certainly has a connection with Arson. + +But the delivery of a letter into Master Ripton's hands, furnished her +with other and likelier appearances to study. For scarce had Ripton +plunged his head into the missive than he gave way to violent +transports, such as the healthy-minded little damsel, for all her +languishing cadences, deemed she really could express were a downright +declaration to be made to her. The boy did not stop at table. Quickly +recollecting the presence of his family, he rushed to his own room. And +now the girl's ingenuity was taxed to gain possession of that letter. +She succeeded, of course, she being a huntress with few scruples and the +game unguarded. With the eyes of amazement she read this foreign matter: + +"Dear Ripton,--If Tom had been committed I would have shot old Blaize. +Do you know my father was behind us that night when Clare saw the ghost +and heard all we said before the fire burst out. It is no use trying to +conceal anything from him. Well as you are in an awful state I will tell +you all about it. After you left Ripton I had a conversation with Austin +and he persuaded me to go down to old Blaize and ask him to help off +Tom. I went for I would have done anything for Tom after what he said +to Austin and I defied the old churl to do his worst. Then he said if +my father paid the money and nobody had tampered with his witnesses he +would not mind if Tom did get off and he had his chief witness in called +the Bantam very like his master I think and the Bantam began winking at +me tremendously as you say, and said he had sworn he saw Tom Bakewell +but not upon oath. He meant not on the Bible. He could swear to it but +not on the Bible. I burst out laughing and you should have seen the rage +old Blaize was in. It was splendid fun. Then we had a consultation at +home Austin Rady my father Uncle Algernon who has come down to us again +and your friend in prosperity and adversity R.D.F. My father said he +would go down to old Blaize and give him the word of a gentleman we had +not tampered with his witnesses and when he was gone we were all talking +and Rady says he must not see the farmer. I am as certain as I live that +it was Rady bribed the Bantam. Well I ran and caught up my father and +told him not to go in to old Blaize but I would and eat my words and +tell him the truth. He waited for me in the lane. Never mind what passed +between me and old Blaize. He made me beg and pray of him not to press +it against Tom and then to complete it he brought in a little girl a +niece of his and says to me, she's your best friend after all and told +me to thank her. A little girl twelve years of age. What business had +she to mix herself up in my matters. Depend upon it Ripton, wherever +there is mischief there are girls I think. She had the insolence to +notice my face, and ask me not to be unhappy. I was polite of course but +I would not look at her. Well the morning came and Tom was had up before +Sir Miles Papworth. It was Sir Miles gout gave us the time or Tom would +have been had up before we could do anything. Adrian did not want me to +go but my father said I should accompany him and held my hand all the +time. I shall be careful about getting into these scrapes again. When +you have done anything honourable you do not mind but getting among +policemen and magistrates makes you ashamed of yourself. Sir Miles was +very attentive to my father and me and dead against Tom. We sat beside +him and Tom was brought in, Sir Miles told my father that if there was +one thing that showed a low villain it was rick-burning. What do you +think of that. I looked him straight in the face and he said to me he +was doing me a service in getting Tom committed and clearing the country +of such fellows and Rady began laughing. I hate Rady. My father said his +son was not in haste to inherit and have estates of his own to watch and +Sir Miles laughed too. I thought we were discovered at first. Then they +began the examination of Tom. The Tinker was the first witness and he +proved that Tom had spoken against old Blaize and said something about +burning his rick. I wished I had stood in the lane to Bursley with him +alone. Our country lawyer we engaged for Tom cross-questioned him and +then he said he was not ready to swear to the exact words that had +passed between him and Tom. I should think not. Then came another who +swore he had seen Tom lurking about the farmer's grounds that night. +Then came the Bantam and I saw him look at Rady. I was tremendously +excited and my father kept pressing my hand. Just fancy my being brought +to feel that a word from that fellow would make me miserable for life +and he must perjure himself to help me. That comes of giving way to +passion. My father says when we do that we are calling in the devil +as doctor. Well the Bantam was told to state what he had seen and the +moment he began Rady who was close by me began to shake and he was +laughing I knew though his face was as grave as Sir Miles. You never +heard such a rigmarole but I could not laugh. He said he thought he was +certain he had seen somebody by the rick and it was Tom Bakewell who was +the only man he knew who had a grudge against Farmer Blaize and if the +object had been a little bigger he would not mind swearing to Tom and +would swear to him for he was dead certain it was Tom only what he saw +looked smaller and it was pitch-dark at the time. He was asked what time +it was he saw the person steal away from the rick and then he began to +scratch his head and said supper-time. Then they asked what time he had +supper and he said nine o'clock by the clock and we proved that at nine +o'clock Tom was drinking in the ale-house with the Tinker at Bursley and +Sir Miles swore and said he was afraid he could not commit Tom and when +he heard that Tom looked up at me and I say he is a noble fellow and no +one shall sneer at Tom while I live. Mind that. Well Sir Miles asked us +to dine with him and Tom was safe and I am to have him and educate him +if I like for my servant and I will. And I will give money to his mother +and make her rich and he shall never repent he knew me. I say Rip. The +Bantam must have seen me. It was when I went to stick in the lucifers. +As we were all going home from Sir Miles's at night he has lots of +red-faced daughters but I did not dance with them though they had music +and were full of fun and I did not care to I was so delighted and almost +let it out. When we left and rode home Rady said to my father the Bantam +was not such a fool as he was thought and my father said one must be in +a state of great personal exaltation to apply that epithet to any man +and Rady shut his mouth and I gave my pony a clap of the heel for joy. +I think my father suspects what Rady did and does not approve of it. And +he need not have done it after all and might have spoilt it. I have been +obliged to order him not to call me Ricky for he stops short at Rick +so that everybody knows what he means. My dear Austin is going to South +America. My pony is in capital condition. My father is the cleverest +and best man in the world. Clare is a little better. I am quite happy. +I hope we shall meet soon my dear Old Rip and we will not get into any +more tremendous scrapes will we.--I remain, + + "Your sworn friend, + + "RICHARD DORIA FEVEREL." + +"P.S. I am to have a nice River Yacht. Good-bye, Rip. Mind you learn to +box. Mind you are not to show this to any of your friends on pain of my +displeasure. + +"N.B. Lady B. was so angry when I told her that I had not come to her +before. She would do anything in the world for me. I like her next best +to my father and Austin. Good-bye old Rip." + +Poor little Letitia, after three perusals of this ingenuous epistle, +where the laws of punctuation were so disregarded, resigned it to one of +the pockets of her brother Ripton's best jacket, deeply smitten with the +careless composer. And so ended the last act of the Bakewell Comedy, in +which the curtain closes with Sir Austin's pointing out to his friends +the beneficial action of the System in it from beginning to end. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +Laying of ghosts is a public duty, and, as the mystery of the apparition +that had frightened little Clare was never solved on the stage of events +at Raynham, where dread walked the Abbey, let us go behind the scenes a +moment. Morally superstitious as the baronet was, the character of his +mind was opposed to anything like spiritual agency in the affairs of +men, and, when the matter was made clear to him, it shook off a weight +of weakness and restored his mental balance; so that from this time he +went about more like the man he had once been, grasping more thoroughly +the great truth, that This World is well designed. Nay, he could laugh +on hearing Adrian, in reminiscence of the ill luck of one of the family +members at its first manifestation, call the uneasy spirit, Algernon's +Leg. + +Mrs. Doria was outraged. She maintained that her child had seen ----. +Not to believe in it was almost to rob her of her personal property. +After satisfactorily studying his old state of mind in her, Sir Austin, +moved by pity, took her aside one day and showed her that her Ghost +could write words in the flesh. It was a letter from the unhappy lady +who had given Richard birth,--brief cold lines, simply telling him his +house would be disturbed by her no more. Cold lines, but penned by what +heart-broken abnegation, and underlying them with what anguish of soul! +Like most who dealt with him, Lady Feverel thought her husband a man +fatally stern and implacable, and she acted as silly creatures will act +when they fancy they see a fate against them: she neither petitioned +for her right nor claimed it: she tried to ease her heart's yearning +by stealth, and, now she renounced all. Mrs. Doria, not wanting in +the family tenderness and softness, shuddered at him for accepting the +sacrifice so composedly: but he bade her to think how distracting to +this boy would be the sight of such relations between mother and father. +A few years, and as man he should know, and judge, and love her. "Let +this be her penance, not inflicted by me!" Mrs. Doria bowed to the +System for another, not opining when it would be her turn to bow for +herself. + +Further behind the scenes we observe Rizzio and Mary grown older, much +disenchanted: she discrowned, dishevelled,--he with gouty fingers on +a greasy guitar. The Diaper Sandoe of promise lends his pen for small +hires. His fame has sunk; his bodily girth has sensibly increased. What +he can do, and will do, is still his theme; meantime the juice of the +juniper is in requisition, and it seems that those small hires cannot +be performed without it. Returning from her wretched journey to +her wretcheder home, the lady had to listen to a mild reproof from +easy-going Diaper,--a reproof so mild that he couched it in blank verse: +for, seldom writing metrically now, he took to talking it. With a +fluent sympathetic tear, he explained to her that she was damaging her +interests by these proceedings; nor did he shrink from undertaking to +elucidate wherefore. Pluming a smile upon his succulent mouth, he told +her that the poverty she lived in was utterly unbefitting her gentle +nurture, and that he had reason to believe--could assure her--that an +annuity was on the point of being granted her by her husband. And +Diaper broke his bud of a smile into full flower as he delivered this +information. She learnt that he had applied to her husband for money. +It is hard to have one's prop of self-respect cut away just when we +are suffering a martyr's agony at the stake. There was a five minutes' +tragic colloquy in the recesses behind the scenes,--totally tragic to +Diaper, who had fondly hoped to bask in the warm sun of that annuity, +and re-emerge from his state of grub. The lady then wrote the letter Sir +Austin held open to his sister. The atmosphere behind the scenes is +not wholesome, so, having laid the Ghost, we will return and face the +curtain. + +That infinitesimal dose of The World which Master Ripton Thompson had +furnished to the System with such instantaneous and surprising effect +was considered by Sir Austin to have worked well, and to be for the time +quite sufficient, so that Ripton did not receive a second invitation to +Raynham, and Richard had no special intimate of his own age to rub his +excessive vitality against, and wanted none. His hands were full enough +with Tom Bakewell. Moreover, his father and he were heart in heart. +The boy's mind was opening, and turned to his father affectionately +reverent. At this period, when the young savage grows into higher +influences, the faculty of worship is foremost in him. At this period +Jesuits will stamp the future of their chargeling flocks; and all who +bring up youth by a System, and watch it, know that it is the malleable +moment. Boys possessing any mental or moral force to give them a +tendency, then predestinate their careers; or, if under supervision, +take the impress that is given them: not often to cast it off, and +seldom to cast it off altogether. + +In Sir Austin's Note-book was written: "Between Simple Boyhood and +Adolescence--The Blossoming Season--on the threshold of Puberty, there +is one Unselfish Hour--say, Spiritual Seed-time." + +He took care that good seed should be planted in Richard, and that the +most fruitful seed for a youth, namely, Example, should be of a kind to +germinate in him the love of every form of nobleness. + +"I am only striving to make my son a Christian," he said, answering +them who persisted in expostulating with the System. And to these +instructions he gave an aim: "First be virtuous," he told his son, "and +then serve your country with heart and soul." The youth was instructed +to cherish an ambition for statesmanship, and he and his father read +history and the speeches of British orators to some purpose; for one +day Sir Austin found him leaning cross-legged, and with his hand to his +chin, against a pedestal supporting the bust of Chatham, contemplating +the hero of our Parliament, his eyes streaming with tears. + +People said the baronet carried the principle of Example so far that he +only retained his boozing dyspeptic brother Hippias at Raynham in order +to exhibit to his son the woeful retribution nature wreaked upon a life +of indulgence; poor Hippias having now become a walking complaint. This +was unjust, but there is no doubt he made use of every illustration to +disgust or encourage his son that his neighbourhood afforded him, and +did not spare his brother, for whom Richard entertained a contempt in +proportion to his admiration of his father, and was for flying into +penitential extremes which Sir Austin had to soften. + +The boy prayed with his father morning and night. + +"How is it, sir," he said one night, "I can't get Tom Bakewell to pray?" + +"Does he refuse?" Sir Austin asked. + +"He seems to be ashamed to," Richard replied. "He wants to know what is +the good? and I don't know what to tell him." + +"I'm afraid it has gone too far with him," said Sir Austin, "and until +he has had some deep sorrows he will not find the divine want of Prayer. +Strive, my son, when you represent the people, to provide for their +education. He feels everything now through a dull impenetrable rind. +Culture is half-way to heaven. Tell him, my son, should he ever be +brought to ask how he may know the efficacy of Prayer, and that his +prayer will be answered, tell him (he quoted The Pilgrim's Scrip): + +"'Who rises from Prayer a better man, his prayer is answered.'" + +"I will, sir," said Richard, and went to sleep happy. + +Happy in his father and in himself, the youth now lived. Conscience was +beginning to inhabit him, and he carried some of the freightage known +to men; though in so crude a form that it overweighed him, now on this +side, now on that. + +The wise youth Adrian observed these further progressionary developments +in his pupil, soberly cynical. He was under Sir Austin's interdict not +to banter him, and eased his acrid humours inspired by the sight of +a felonious young rick-burner turning saint, by grave affectations of +sympathy and extreme accuracy in marking the not widely-distant dates of +his various changes. The Bread-and-water phase lasted a fortnight: the +Vegetarian (an imitation of his cousin Austin), little better than a +month: the religious, somewhat longer: the religious-propagandist (when +he was for converting the heathen of Lobourne and Burnley, and the +domestics of the Abbey, including Tom Bakewell), longer still, and +hard to bear;--he tried to convert Adrian! All the while Tom was being +exercised like a raw recruit. Richard had a drill-sergeant from the +nearest barracks down for him, to give him a proper pride in himself, +and marched him to and fro with immense satisfaction, and nearly broke +his heart trying to get the round-shouldered rustic to take in the +rudiments of letters: for the boy had unbounded hopes for Tom, as a hero +in grain. + +Richard's pride also was cast aside. He affected to be, and really +thought he was, humble. Whereupon Adrian, as by accident, imparted to +him the fact that men were animals, and he an animal with the rest of +them. + +"I an animal!" cries Richard in scorn, and for weeks he was as troubled +by this rudiment of self-knowledge as Tom by his letters. Sir Austin had +him instructed in the wonders of anatomy, to restore his self-respect. + +Seed-Time passed thus smoothly, and adolescence came on, and his cousin +Clare felt what it was to be of an opposite sex to him. She too was +growing, but nobody cared how she grew. Outwardly even her mother seemed +absorbed in the sprouting of the green off-shoot of the Feverel tree, +and Clare was his handmaiden, little marked by him. + +Lady Blandish honestly loved the boy. She would tell him: "If I had been +a girl, I would have had you for my husband." And he with the frankness +of his years would reply: "And how do you know I would have had you?" +causing her to laugh and call him a silly boy, for had he not heard her +say she would have had him? Terrible words, he knew not then the meaning +of! + +"You don't read your father's Book," she said. Her own copy was bound +in purple velvet, gilt-edged, as decorative ladies like to have holier +books, and she carried it about with her, and quoted it, and (Adrian +remarked to Mrs. Doria) hunted a noble quarry, and deliberately aimed +at him therewith, which Mrs. Doria chose to believe, and regretted her +brother would not be on his guard. + +"See here," said Lady Blandish, pressing an almondy finger-nail to +one of the Aphorisms, which instanced how age and adversity must +clay-enclose us ere we can effectually resist the magnetism of any human +creature in our path. "Can you understand it, child?" + +Richard informed her that when she read he could. + +"Well, then, my squire," she touched his cheek and ran her fingers +through his hair, "learn as quick as you can not to be all hither and +yon with a hundred different attractions, as I was before I met a wise +man to guide me." + +"Is my father very wise?" Richard asked. + +"I think so," the lady emphasized her individual judgment. + +"Do you--" Richard broke forth, and was stopped by a beating of his +heart. + +"Do I--what?" she calmly queried. + +"I was going to say, do you--I mean, I love him so much." + +Lady Blandish smiled and slightly coloured. + +They frequently approached this theme, and always retreated from it; +always with the same beating of heart to Richard, accompanied by the +sense of a growing mystery, which, however, did not as yet generally +disturb him. + +Life was made very pleasant to him at Raynham, as it was part of Sir +Austin's principle of education that his boy should be thoroughly joyous +and happy; and whenever Adrian sent in a satisfactory report of his +pupil's advancement, which he did pretty liberally, diversions were +planned, just as prizes are given to diligent school-boys, and Richard +was supposed to have all his desires gratified while he attended to his +studies. The System flourished. Tall, strong, bloomingly healthy, he +took the lead of his companions on land and water, and had more than +one bondsman in his service besides Ripton Thompson--the boy without +a Destiny! Perhaps the boy with a Destiny was growing up a trifle +too conscious of it. His generosity to his occasional companions was +princely, but was exercised something too much in the manner of a +prince; and, notwithstanding his contempt for baseness, he would +overlook that more easily than an offence to his pride, which demanded +an utter servility when it had once been rendered susceptible. If +Richard had his followers he had also his feuds. The Papworths were as +subservient as Ripton, but young Ralph Morton, the nephew of Mr. Morton, +and a match for Richard in numerous promising qualities, comprising the +noble science of fisticuffs, this youth spoke his mind too openly, and +moreover would not be snubbed. There was no middle course for Richard's +comrades between high friendship or absolute slavery. He was deficient +in those cosmopolite habits and feelings which enable boys and men +to hold together without caring much for each other; and, like every +insulated mortal, he attributed the deficiency, of which he was quite +aware, to the fact of his possessing a superior nature. Young Ralph +was a lively talker: therefore, argued Richard's vanity, he had no +intellect. He was affable: therefore he was frivolous. The women liked +him: therefore he was a butterfly. In fine, young Ralph was popular, and +our superb prince, denied the privilege of despising, ended by detesting +him. + +Early in the days of their contention for leadership, Richard saw the +absurdity of affecting to scorn his rival. Ralph was an Eton boy, +and hence, being robust, a swimmer and a cricketer. A swimmer and a +cricketer is nowhere to be scorned in youth's republic. Finding that +manoeuvre would not do, Richard was prompted once or twice to entrench +himself behind his greater wealth and his position; but he soon +abandoned that also, partly because his chilliness to ridicule told him +he was exposing himself, and chiefly that his heart was too chivalrous. +And so he was dragged into the lists by Ralph, and experienced the luck +of champions. For cricket, and for diving, Ralph bore away the belt: +Richard's middle-stump tottered before his ball, and he could seldom +pick up more than three eggs underwater to Ralph's half-dozen. He was +beaten, too, in jumping and running. Why will silly mortals strive to +the painful pinnacles of championship? Or why, once having reached them, +not have the magnanimity and circumspection to retire into private life +immediately? Stung by his defeats, Richard sent one of his dependent +Papworths to Poer Hall, with a challenge to Ralph Barthrop Morton; +matching himself to swim across the Thames and back, once, trice, or +thrice, within a less time than he, Ralph Barthrop Morton, would require +for the undertaking. It was accepted, and a reply returned, equally +formal in the trumpeting of Christian names, wherein Ralph Barthrop +Morton acknowledged the challenge of Richard Doria Feverel, and was his +man. The match came off on a midsummer morning, under the direction +of Captain Algernon. Sir Austin was a spectator from the cover of a +plantation by the river-side, unknown to his son, and, to the scandal +of her sex, Lady Blandish accompanied the baronet. He had invited her +attendance, and she, obeying her frank nature, and knowing what The +Pilgrim's Scrip said about prudes, at once agreed to view the match, +pleasing him mightily. For was not here a woman worthy the Golden Ages +of the world? one who could look upon man as a creature divinely made, +and look with a mind neither tempted, nor taunted, by the Serpent! Such +a woman was rare. Sir Austin did not discompose her by uttering +his praises. She was conscious of his approval only in an increased +gentleness of manner, and something in his voice and communications, +as if he were speaking to a familiar, a very high compliment from him. +While the lads were standing ready for the signal to plunge from the +steep decline of greensward into the shining waters, Sir Austin called +upon her to admire their beauty, and she did, and even advanced her head +above his shoulder delicately. In so doing, and just as the start was +given, a bonnet became visible to Richard. Young Ralph was heels in air +before he moved, and then he dropped like lead. He was beaten by several +lengths. + +The result of the match was unaccountable to all present, and Richard's +friends unanimously pressed him to plead a false start. But though the +youth, with full confidence in his better style and equal strength, +had backed himself heavily against his rival, and had lost his little +river-yacht to Ralph, he would do nothing of the sort. It was the Bonnet +had beaten him, not Ralph. The Bonnet, typical of the mystery that +caused his heart those violent palpitations, was his dear, detestable +enemy. + +And now, as he progressed from mood to mood, his ambition turned towards +a field where Ralph could not rival him, and where the Bonnet was +etherealized, and reigned glorious mistress. A cheek to the pride of +a boy will frequently divert him to the path where lie his subtlest +powers. Richard gave up his companions, servile or antagonistic: +he relinquished the material world to young Ralph, and retired into +himself, where he was growing to be lord of kingdoms where Beauty was +his handmaid, and History his minister and Time his ancient harper, +and sweet Romance his bride; where he walked in a realm vaster and more +gorgeous than the great Orient, peopled with the heroes that have been. +For there is no princely wealth, and no loftiest heritage, to equal this +early one that is made bountifully common to so many, when the ripening +blood has put a spark to the imagination, and the earth is seen through +rosy mists of a thousand fresh-awakened nameless and aimless desires; +panting for bliss and taking it as it comes; making of any sight or +sound, perforce of the enchantment they carry with them, a key to +infinite, because innocent, pleasure. The passions then are gambolling +cubs; not the ravaging gluttons they grow to. They have their teeth and +their talons, but they neither tear nor bite. They are in counsel and +fellowship with the quickened heart and brain. The whole sweet system +moves to music. + +Something akin to the indications of a change in the spirit of his son, +which were now seen, Sir Austin had marked down to be expected, as due +to his plan. The blushes of the youth, his long vigils, his clinging +to solitude, his abstraction, and downcast but not melancholy air, were +matters for rejoicing to the prescient gentleman. "For it comes," said +he to Dr. Clifford of Lobourne, after consulting him medically on +the youth's behalf and being assured of his soundness, "it comes of +a thoroughly sane condition. The blood is healthy, the mind virtuous: +neither instigates the other to evil, and both are perfecting toward the +flower of manhood. If he reach that pure--in the untainted fulness and +perfection of his natural powers--I am indeed a happy father! But +one thing he will owe to me: that at one period of his life he knew +paradise, and could read God's handwriting on the earth! Now those +abominations whom you call precocious boys--your little pet monsters, +doctor!--and who can wonder that the world is what it is? when it is +full of them--as they will have no divine time to look back upon in +their own lives, how can they believe in innocence and goodness, or +be other than sons of selfishness and the Devil? But my boy," and the +baronet dropped his voice to a key that was touching to hear, "my boy, +if he fall, will fall from an actual region of purity. He dare not be +a sceptic as to that. Whatever his darkness, he will have the guiding +light of a memory behind him. So much is secure." + +To talk nonsense, or poetry, or the dash between the two, in a tone of +profound sincerity, and to enunciate solemn discordances with received +opinion so seriously as to convey the impression of a spiritual insight, +is the peculiar gift by which monomaniacs, having first persuaded +themselves, contrive to influence their neighbours, and through them +to make conquest of a good half of the world, for good or for ill. Sir +Austin had this gift. He spoke as if he saw the truth, and, persisting +in it so long, he was accredited by those who did not understand him, +and silenced them that did. + +"We shall see," was all the argument left to Dr. Clifford, and other +unbelievers. + +So far certainly the experiment had succeeded. A comelier, bracer, +better boy was nowhere to be met. His promise was undeniable. The +vessel, too, though it lay now in harbour and had not yet been proved +by the buffets of the elements on the great ocean, had made a good +trial trip, and got well through stormy weather, as the records of the +Bakewell Comedy witnessed to at Raynham. No augury could be hopefuller. +The Fates must indeed be hard, the Ordeal severe, the Destiny dark, that +could destroy so bright a Spring! But, bright as it was, the baronet +relaxed nothing of his vigilant supervision. He said to his intimates: +"Every act, every fostered inclination, almost every thought, in this +Blossoming Season, bears its seed for the Future. The living Tree now +requires incessant watchfulness." And, acting up to his light, Sir +Austin did watch. The youth submitted to an examination every night +before he sought his bed; professedly to give an account of his studies, +but really to recapitulate his moral experiences of the day. He could +do so, for he was pure. Any wildness in him that his father noted, any +remoteness or richness of fancy in his expressions, was set down as +incidental to the Blossoming Season. There is nothing like a theory for +binding the wise. Sir Austin, despite his rigid watch and ward, knew +less of his son than the servant of his household. And he was deaf, as +well as blind. Adrian thought it his duty to tell him that the youth +was consuming paper. Lady Blandish likewise hinted at his mooning +propensities. Sir Austin from his lofty watch-tower of the System +had foreseen it, he said. But when he came to hear that the youth +was writing poetry, his wounded heart had its reasons for being much +disturbed. + +"Surely," said Lady Blandish, "you knew he scribbled?" + +"A very different thing from writing poetry," said the baronet. "No +Feverel has ever written poetry." + +"I don't think it's a sign of degeneracy," the lady remarked. "He rhymes +very prettily to me." + +A London phrenologist, and a friendly Oxford Professor of poetry, +quieted Sir Austin's fears. + +The phrenologist said he was totally deficient in the imitative faculty; +and the Professor, that he was equally so in the rhythmic, and instanced +several consoling false quantities in the few effusions submitted to +him. Added to this, Sir Austin told Lady Blandish that Richard had, at +his best, done what no poet had ever been known to be capable of doing: +he had, with his own hands, and in cold blood, committed his virgin +manuscript to the flames: which made Lady Blandish sigh forth, "Poor +boy!" + +Killing one's darling child is a painful imposition. For a youth in +his Blossoming Season, who fancies himself a poet, to be requested to +destroy his first-born, without a reason (though to pretend a reason +cogent enough to justify the request were a mockery), is a piece of +abhorrent despotism, and Richard's blossoms withered under it. A strange +man had been introduced to him, who traversed and bisected his skull +with sagacious stiff fingers, and crushed his soul while, in an +infallible voice, declaring him the animal he was making him feel such +an animal! Not only his blossoms withered, his being seemed to draw +in its shoots and twigs. And when, coupled thereunto (the strange man +having departed, his work done), his father, in his tenderest manner, +stated that it would give him pleasure to see those same precocious, +utterly valueless, scribblings among the cinders, the last remaining +mental blossoms spontaneously fell away. Richard's spirit stood bare. +He protested not. Enough that it could be wished! He would not delay +a minute in doing it. Desiring his father to follow him, he went to a +drawer in his room, and from a clean-linen recess, never suspected +by Sir Austin, the secretive youth drew out bundle after bundle: each +neatly tied, named, and numbered: and pitched them into flames. And so +Farewell my young Ambition! and with it farewell all true confidence +between Father and Son. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +It was now, as Sir Austin had written it down, The Magnetic Age: the Age +of violent attractions, when to hear mention of love is dangerous, and +to see it, a communication of the disease. People at Raynham were put on +their guard by the baronet, and his reputation for wisdom was severely +criticized in consequence of the injunctions he thought fit to issue +through butler and housekeeper down to the lower household, for the +preservation of his son from any visible symptom of the passion. A +footman and two housemaids are believed to have been dismissed on the +report of heavy Benson that they were in or inclining to the state; upon +which an undercook and a dairymaid voluntarily threw up their places, +averring that "they did not want no young men, but to have their sex +spied after by an old wretch like that," indicating the ponderous +butler, "was a little too much for a Christian woman," and then +they were ungenerous enough to glance at Benson's well-known marital +calamity, hinting that some men met their deserts. So intolerable +did heavy Benson's espionage become, that Raynham would have grown +depopulated of its womankind had not Adrian interfered, who pointed out +to the baronet what a fearful arm his butler was wielding. Sir Austin +acknowledged it despondently. "It only shows," said he, with a fine +spirit of justice, "how all but impossible it is to legislate where +there are women!" + +"I do not object," he added; "I hope I am too just to object to +the exercise of their natural inclinations. All I ask from them is +discreetness." + +"Ay," said Adrian, whose discreetness was a marvel. + +"No gadding about in couples," continued the baronet, "no kissing in +public. Such occurrences no boy should witness. Whenever people of +both sexes are thrown together, they will be silly; and where they are +high-fed, uneducated, and barely occupied, it must be looked for as a +matter of course. Let it be known that I only require discreetness." + +Discreetness, therefore, was instructed to reign at the Abbey. Under +Adrian's able tuition the fairest of its domestics acquired that virtue. + +Discreetness, too, was enjoined to the upper household. Sir Austin, who +had not previously appeared to notice the case of Lobourne's hopeless +curate, now desired Mrs. Doria to interdict, or at least discourage, his +visits, for the appearance of the man was that of an embodied sigh and +groan. + +"Really, Austin!" said Mrs. Doria, astonished to find her brother more +awake than she had supposed, "I have never allowed him to hope." + +"Let him see it, then," replied the baronet; "let him see it." + +"The man amuses me," said Mrs. Doria. "You know, we have few amusements +here, we inferior creatures. I confess I should like a barrel-organ +better; that reminds one of town and the opera; and besides, it plays +more than one tune. However, since you think my society bad for him, let +him stop away." + +With the self-devotion of a woman she grew patient and sweet the moment +her daughter Clare was spoken of, and the business of her life in view. +Mrs. Doria's maternal heart had betrothed the two cousins, Richard +and Clare; had already beheld them espoused and fruitful. For this she +yielded the pleasures of town; for this she immured herself at Raynham; +for this she bore with a thousand follies, exactions, inconveniences, +things abhorrent to her, and heaven knows what forms of torture and +self-denial, which are smilingly endured by that greatest of voluntary +martyrs--a mother with a daughter to marry. Mrs. Doria, an amiable +widow, had surely married but for her daughter Clare. The lady's hair no +woman could possess without feeling it her pride. It was the daily theme +of her lady's-maid,--a natural aureole to her head. She was gay, witty, +still physically youthful enough to claim a destiny; and she sacrificed +it to accomplish her daughter's! sacrificed, as with heroic scissors, +hair, wit, gaiety--let us not attempt to enumerate how much! more than +may be said. And she was only one of thousands; thousands who have +no portion of the hero's reward; for he may reckon on applause, and +condolence, and sympathy, and honour; they, poor slaves! must look for +nothing but the opposition of their own sex and the sneers of ours. O, +Sir Austin! had you not been so blinded, what an Aphorism might have +sprung from this point of observation! Mrs. Doria was coolly told, +between sister and brother, that during the Magnetic Age her daughter's +presence at Raynham was undesirable. Instead of nursing offence, her +sole thought was the mountain of prejudice she had to contend against. +She bowed, and said, Clare wanted sea-air--she had never quite recovered +the shock of that dreadful night. How long, Mrs. Doria wished to know, +might the Peculiar Period be expected to last? + +"That," said Sir Austin, "depends. A year, perhaps. He is entering on +it. I shall be most grieved to lose you, Helen. Clare is now--how old?" + +"Seventeen." + +"She is marriageable." + +"Marriageable, Austin! at seventeen! don't name such a thing. My child +shall not be robbed of her youth." + +"Our women marry early, Helen." + +"My child shall not!" + +The baronet reflected a moment. He did not wish to lose his sister. + +"As you are of that opinion, Helen," said he, "perhaps we may still make +arrangements to retain you with us. Would you think it advisable to +send Clare--she should know discipline--to some establishment for a few +months?" + +"To an asylum, Austin?" cried Mrs. Doria, controlling her indignation as +well as she could. + +"To some select superior seminary, Helen. There are such to be found." + +"Austin!" Mrs. Doria exclaimed, and had to fight with a moisture in her +eyes. "Unjust! absurd!" she murmured. The baronet thought it a natural +proposition that Clare should be a bride or a schoolgirl. + +"I cannot leave my child." Mrs. Doria trembled. "Where she goes, I go. +I am aware that she is only one of our sex, and therefore of no value to +the world, but she is my child. I will see, poor dear, that you have no +cause to complain of her." + +"I thought," Sir Austin remarked, "that you acquiesced in my views with +regard to my son." + +"Yes--generally," said Mrs. Doria, and felt culpable that she had not +before, and could not then, tell her brother that he had set up an Idol +in his house--an Idol of flesh! more retributive and abominable than +wood or brass or gold. But she had bowed to the Idol too long--she had +too entirely bound herself to gain her project by subserviency. She had, +and she dimly perceived it, committed a greater fault in tactics, in +teaching her daughter to bow to the Idol also. Love of that kind Richard +took for tribute. He was indifferent to Clare's soft eyes. The parting +kiss he gave her was ready and cold as his father could desire. Sir +Austin now grew eloquent to him in laudation of manly pursuits: but +Richard thought his eloquence barren, his attempts at companionship +awkward, and all manly pursuits and aims, life itself, vain and +worthless. To what end? sighed the blossomless youth, and cried aloud, +as soon as he was relieved of his father's society, what was the good +of anything? Whatever he did--whichever path he selected, led back to +Raynham. And whatever he did, however wretched and wayward he showed +himself, only confirmed Sir Austin more and more in the truth of his +previsions. Tom Bakewell, now the youth's groom, had to give the baronet +a report of his young master's proceedings, in common with Adrian, and +while there was no harm to tell, Tom spoke out. "He do ride like fire +every day to Pig's Snout," naming the highest hill in the neighbourhood, +"and stand there and stare, never movin', like a mad 'un. And then hoam +agin all slack as if he'd been beaten in a race by somebody." + +"There is no woman in that!" mused the baronet. "He would have ridden +back as hard as he went," reflected this profound scientific humanist, +"had there been a woman in it. He would shun vast expanses, and +seek shade, concealment, solitude. The desire for distances betokens +emptiness and undirected hunger: when the heart is possessed by an image +we fly to wood and forest, like the guilty." + +Adrian's report accused his pupil of an extraordinary access of +cynicism. + +"Exactly," said the baronet. "As I foresaw. At this period an insatiate +appetite is accompanied by a fastidious palate. Nothing but the +quintessences of existence, and those in exhaustless supplies, +will satisfy this craving, which is not to be satisfied! Hence his +bitterness. Life can furnish no food fitting for him. The strength and +purity of his energies have reached to an almost divine height, and roam +through the Inane. Poetry, love, and such-like, are the drugs earth has +to offer to high natures, as she offers to low ones debauchery. 'Tis a +sign, this sourness, that he is subject to none of the empiricisms that +are afloat. Now to keep him clear of them!" + +The Titans had an easier task in storming Olympus. As yet, however, it +could not be said that Sir Austin's System had failed. On the contrary, +it had reared a youth, handsome, intelligent, well-bred, and, observed +the ladies, with acute emphasis, innocent. Where, they asked, was such +another young man to be found? + +"Oh!" said Lady Blandish to Sir Austin, "if men could give their hands +to women unsoiled--how different would many a marriage be! She will be a +happy girl who calls Richard husband." + +"Happy, indeed!" was the baronet's caustic ejaculation. "But where shall +I meet one equal to him, and his match?" + +"I was innocent when I was a girl," said the lady. + +Sir Austin bowed a reserved opinion. + +"Do you think no girls innocent?" + +Sir Austin gallantly thought them all so. + +"No, that you know they are not," said the lady, stamping. "But they are +more innocent than boys, I am sure." + +"Because of their education, madam. You see now what a youth can +be. Perhaps, when my System is published, or rather--to speak more +humbly--when it is practised, the balance may be restored, and we shall +have virtuous young men." + +"It's too late for poor me to hope for a husband from one of them," said +the lady, pouting and laughing. + +"It is never too late for beauty to waken love," returned the baronet, +and they trifled a little. They were approaching Daphne's Bower, which +they entered, and sat there to taste the coolness of a descending +midsummer day. + +The baronet seemed in a humour for dignified fooling; the lady for +serious converse. + +"I shall believe again in Arthur's knights," she said. "When I was a +girl I dreamed of one." + +"And he was in quest of the San Greal?" + +"If you like." + +"And showed his good taste by turning aside for the more tangible San +Blandish?" + +"Of course you consider it would have been so," sighed the lady, +ruffling. + +"I can only judge by our generation," said Sir Austin, with a bend of +homage. + +The lady gathered her mouth. "Either we are very mighty or you are very +weak." + +"Both, madam." + +"But whatever we are, and if we are bad, bad! we love virtue, and truth, +and lofty souls, in men: and, when we meet those qualities in them, we +are constant, and would die for them--die for them. Ah! you know men but +not women." + +"The knights possessing such distinctions must be young, I presume?" +said Sir Austin. + +"Old, or young!" + +"But if old, they are scarce capable of enterprise?" + +"They are loved for themselves, not for their deeds." + +"Ah!" + +"Yes--ah!" said the lady. "Intellect may subdue women--make slaves of +them; and they worship beauty perhaps as much as you do. But they only +love for ever and are mated when they meet a noble nature." + +Sir Austin looked at her wistfully. + +"And did you encounter the knight of your dream?" + +"Not then." She lowered her eyelids. It was prettily done. + +"And how did you bear the disappointment?" + +"My dream was in the nursery. The day my frock was lengthened to a gown +I stood at the altar. I am not the only girl that has been made a woman +in a day, and given to an ogre instead of a true knight." + +"Good God!" exclaimed Sir Austin, "women have much to bear." + +Here the couple changed characters. The lady became gay as the baronet +grew earnest. + +"You know it is our lot," she said. "And we are allowed many amusements. +If we fulfil our duty in producing children, that, like our virtue, is +its own reward. Then, as a widow, I have wonderful privileges." + +"To preserve which, you remain a widow?" + +"Certainly," she responded. "I have no trouble now in patching and +piecing that rag the world calls--a character. I can sit at your feet +every day unquestioned. To be sure, others do the same, but they are +female eccentrics, and have cast off the rag altogether." + +Sir Austin drew nearer to her. "You would have made an admirable mother, +madam." + +This from Sir Austin was very like positive wooing. + +"It is," he continued, "ten thousand pities that you are not one." + +"Do you think so?" She spoke with humility. + +"I would," he went on, "that heaven had given you a daughter." + +"Would you have thought her worthy of Richard?" + +"Our blood, madam, should have been one!" + +The lady tapped her toe with her parasol. "But I am a mother," she said. +"Richard is my son. Yes! Richard is my boy," she reiterated. + +Sir Austin most graciously appended, "Call him ours, madam," and held +his head as if to catch the word from her lips, which, however, she +chose to refuse, or defer. They made the coloured West a common point +for their eyes, and then Sir Austin said: + +"As you will not say 'ours,' let me. And, as you have therefore an +equal claim on the boy, I will confide to you a project I have lately +conceived." + +The announcement of a project hardly savoured of a coming proposal, +but for Sir Austin to confide one to a woman was almost tantamount to a +declaration. So Lady Blandish thought, and so said her soft, deep-eyed +smile, as she perused the ground while listening to the project. It +concerned Richard's nuptials. He was now nearly eighteen. He was to +marry when he was five-and-twenty. Meantime a young lady, some years his +junior, was to be sought for in the homes of England, who would be +every way fitted by education, instincts, and blood--on each of which +qualifications Sir Austin unreservedly enlarged--to espouse so perfect a +youth and accept the honourable duty of assisting in the perpetuation of +the Feverels. The baronet went on to say that he proposed to set forth +immediately, and devote a couple of months, to the first essay in his +Coelebite search. + +"I fear," said Lady Blandish, when the project had been fully unfolded, +"you have laid down for yourself a difficult task. You must not be too +exacting." + +"I know it." The baronet's shake of the head was piteous. + +"Even in England she will be rare. But I confine myself to no class. +If I ask for blood it is for untainted, not what you call high blood. +I believe many of the middle classes are frequently more careful--more +pure-blooded--than our aristocracy. Show me among them a God-fearing +family who educate their children--I should prefer a girl without +brothers and sisters--as a Christian damsel should be educated--say, +on the model of my son, and she may be penniless, I will pledge her to +Richard Feverel." + +Lady Blandish bit her lip. "And what do you do with Richard while you +are absent on this expedition?" + +"Oh!" said the baronet, "he accompanies his father." + +"Then give it up. His future bride is now pinafored and +bread-and-buttery. She romps, she cries, she dreams of play and pudding. +How can he care for her? He thinks more at his age of old women like me. +He will be certain to kick against her, and destroy your plan, believe +me, Sir Austin." + +"Ay? ay? do you think that?" said the baronet. + +Lady Blandish gave him a multitude of reasons. + +"Ay! true," he muttered. "Adrian said the same. He must not see her. +How could I think of it! The child is naked woman. He would despise her. +Naturally!" + +"Naturally!" echoed the lady. + +"Then, madam," and the baronet rose, "there is one thing for me to +determine upon. I must, for the first time in his life, leave him." + +"Will you, indeed?" said the lady. + +"It is my duty, having thus brought him up, to see that he is properly +mated,--not wrecked upon the quicksands of marriage, as a youth so +delicately trained might be; more easily than another! Betrothed, he +will be safe from a thousand snares. I may, I think, leave him for a +term. My precautions have saved him from the temptations of his season." + +"And under whose charge will you leave him?" Lady Blandish inquired. + +She had emerged from the temple, and stood beside Sir Austin on the +upper steps, under a clear summer twilight. + +"Madam!" he took her hand, and his voice was gallant and tender, "under +whose but yours?" + +As the baronet said this, he bent above her hand, and raised it to his +lips. + +Lady Blandish felt that she had been wooed and asked in wedlock. She did +not withdraw her hand. The baronet's salute was flatteringly reverent. +He deliberated over it, as one going through a grave ceremony. And +he, the scorner of women, had chosen her for his homage! Lady Blandish +forgot that she had taken some trouble to arrive at it. She received the +exquisite compliment in all its unique honey-sweet: for in love we must +deserve nothing or the fine bloom of fruition is gone. + +The lady's hand was still in durance, and the baronet had not recovered +from his profound inclination, when a noise from the neighbouring +beechwood startled the two actors in this courtly pantomime. They turned +their heads, and beheld the hope of Raynham on horseback surveying the +scene. The next moment he had galloped away. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +All night Richard tossed on his bed with his heart in a rapid canter, +and his brain bestriding it, traversing the rich untasted world, and +the great Realm of Mystery, from which he was now restrained no longer. +Months he had wandered about the gates of the Bonnet, wondering, +sighing, knocking at them, and getting neither admittance nor answer. +He had the key now. His own father had given it to him. His heart was a +lightning steed, and bore him on and on over limitless regions bathed +in superhuman beauty and strangeness, where cavaliers and ladies leaned +whispering upon close green swards, and knights and ladies cast a +splendour upon savage forests, and tilts and tourneys were held in +golden courts lit to a glorious day by ladies' eyes, one pair of which, +dimly visioned, constantly distinguishable, followed him through the +boskage and dwelt upon him in the press, beaming while he bent above +a hand glittering white and fragrant as the frosted blossom of a May +night. + +Awhile the heart would pause and flutter to a shock: he was in the act +of consummating all earthly bliss by pressing his lips to the small +white hand. Only to do that, and die! cried the Magnetic Youth: to fling +the Jewel of Life into that one cup and drink it off! He was intoxicated +by anticipation. For that he was born. There was, then, some end in +existence, something to live for! to kiss a woman's hand, and die! He +would leap from the couch, and rush to pen and paper to relieve his +swarming sensations. Scarce was he seated when the pen was dashed aside, +the paper sent flying with the exclamation, "Have I not sworn I would +never write again?" Sir Austin had shut that safety-valve. The nonsense +that was in the youth might have poured harmlessly out, and its urgency +for ebullition was so great that he was repeatedly oblivious of his +oath, and found himself seated under the lamp in the act of composition +before pride could speak a word. Possibly the pride even of Richard +Feverel had been swamped if the act of composition were easy at such a +time, and a single idea could stand clearly foremost; but myriads were +demanding the first place; chaotic hosts, like ranks of stormy billows, +pressed impetuously for expression, and despair of reducing them to +form, quite as much as pride, to which it pleased him to refer his +incapacity, threw down the powerless pen, and sent him panting to his +outstretched length and another headlong career through the rosy-girdled +land. + +Toward morning the madness of the fever abated somewhat, and he went +forth into the air. A lamp was still burning in his father's room, and +Richard thought, as he looked up, that he saw the ever-vigilant head on +the watch. Instantly the lamp was extinguished, the window stood cold +against the hues of dawn. + +Strong pulling is an excellent medical remedy for certain classes +of fever. Richard took to it instinctively. The clear fresh water, +burnished with sunrise, sparkled against his arrowy prow; the soft deep +shadows curled smiling away from his gliding keel. Overhead solitary +morning unfolded itself, from blossom to bud, from bud to flower; +still, delicious changes of light and colour, to whose influences he +was heedless as he shot under willows and aspens, and across sheets of +river-reaches, pure mirrors to the upper glory, himself the sole tenant +of the stream. Somewhere at the founts of the world lay the land he was +rowing toward; something of its shadowed lights might be discerned here +and there. It was not a dream, now he knew. There was a secret abroad. +The woods were full of it; the waters rolled with it, and the winds. Oh, +why could not one in these days do some high knightly deed which should +draw down ladies' eyes from their heaven, as in the days of Arthur! To +such a meaning breathed the unconscious sighs of the youth, when he had +pulled through his first feverish energy. + +He was off Bursley, and had lapsed a little into that musing quietude +which follows strenuous exercise, when he heard a hail and his own name +called. It was no lady, no fairy, but young Ralph Morton, an irruption +of miserable masculine prose. Heartily wishing him abed with the rest +of mankind, Richard rowed in and jumped ashore. Ralph immediately seized +his arm, saying that he desired earnestly to have a talk with him, and +dragged the Magnetic Youth from his water-dreams, up and down the wet +mown grass. That he had to say seemed to be difficult of utterance, and +Richard, though he barely listened, soon had enough of his old rival's +gladness at seeing him, and exhibited signs of impatience; whereat +Ralph, as one who branches into matter somewhat foreign to his mind, but +of great human interest and importance, put the question to him: + +"I say, what woman's name do you like best?" + +"I don't know any," quoth Richard, indifferently. "Why are you out so +early?" + +In answer to this, Ralph suggested that the name of Mary might be +considered a pretty name. + +Richard agreed that it might be; the housekeeper at Raynham, half the +women cooks, and all the housemaids enjoyed that name; the name of Mary +was equivalent for women at home. + +"Yes, I know," said Ralph. "We have lots of Marys. It's so common. Oh! I +don't like Mary best. What do you think?" + +Richard thought it just like another. + +"Do you know," Ralph continued, throwing off the mask and plunging into +the subject, "I'd do anything on earth for some names--one or two. It's +not Mary, nor Lucy. Clarinda's pretty, but it's like a novel. Claribel, +I like. Names beginning with 'Cl' I prefer. The 'Cl's' are always gentle +and lovely girls you would die for! Don't you think so?" + +Richard had never been acquainted with any of them to inspire that +emotion. Indeed these urgent appeals to his fancy in feminine names at +five o'clock in the morning slightly surprised him, though he was but +half awake to the outer world. By degrees he perceived that Ralph +was changed. Instead of the lusty boisterous boy, his rival in manly +sciences, who spoke straightforwardly and acted up to his speech, here +was an abashed and blush-persecuted youth, who sued piteously for a +friendly ear wherein to pour the one idea possessing him. Gradually, +too, Richard apprehended that Ralph likewise was on the frontiers of +the Realm of Mystery, perhaps further toward it than he himself was; +and then, as by a sympathetic stroke, was revealed to him the wonderful +beauty and depth of meaning in feminine names. The theme appeared novel +and delicious, fitted to the season and the hour. But the hardship was, +that Richard could choose none from the number; all were the same to +him; he loved them all. + +"Don't you really prefer the 'Cl's'?" said Ralph, persuasively. + +"Not better than the names ending in 'a' and 'y,' Richard replied, +wishing he could, for Ralph was evidently ahead of him. + +"Come under these trees," said Ralph. And under the trees Ralph +unbosomed. His name was down for the army: Eton was quitted for ever. In +a few months he would have to join his regiment, and before he left he +must say goodbye to his friends.... Would Richard tell him Mrs. Forey's +address? he had heard she was somewhere by the sea. Richard did not +remember the address, but said he would willingly take charge of any +letter and forward it. + +Ralph dived his hand into his pocket. "Here it is. But don't let anybody +see it." + +"My aunt's name is not Clare," said Richard, perusing what was composed +of the exterior formula. "You've addressed it to Clare herself." + +That was plain to see. + +"Emmeline Clementina Matilda Laura, Countess Blandish," Richard +continued in a low tone, transferring the names, and playing on the +musical strings they were to him. Then he said: "Names of ladies! How +they sweeten their names!" + +He fixed his eyes on Ralph. If he discovered anything further he said +nothing, but bade the good fellow good-bye, jumped into his boat, and +pulled down the tide. The moment Ralph was hidden by an abutment of the +banks, Richard perused the address. For the first time it struck him +that his cousin Clare was a very charming creature: he remembered the +look of her eyes, and especially the last reproachful glance she gave +him at parting. What business had Ralph to write to her? Did she not +belong to Richard Feverel? He read the words again and again: Clare +Doria Forey. Why, Clare was the name he liked best--nay, he loved it. +Doria, too--she shared his own name with him. Away went his heart, not +at a canter now, at a gallop, as one who sights the quarry. He felt too +weak to pull. Clare Doria Forey--oh, perfect melody! Sliding with the +tide, he heard it fluting in the bosom of the hills. + +When nature has made us ripe for love, it seldom occurs that the Fates +are behindhand in furnishing a temple for the flame. + +Above green-flashing plunges of a weir, and shaken by the thunder +below, lilies, golden and white, were swaying at anchor among the reeds. +Meadow-sweet hung from the banks thick with weed and trailing bramble, +and there also hung a daughter of earth. Her face was shaded by a broad +straw hat with a flexible brim that left her lips and chin in the sun, +and, sometimes nodding, sent forth a light of promising eyes. Across her +shoulders, and behind, flowed large loose curls, brown in shadow, almost +golden where the ray touched them. She was simply dressed, befitting +decency and the season. On a closer inspection you might see that +her lips were stained. This blooming young person was regaling on +dewberries. They grew between the bank and the water. Apparently she +found the fruit abundant, for her hand was making pretty progress to her +mouth. Fastidious youth, which revolts at woman plumping her exquisite +proportions on bread-and-butter, and would (we must suppose) joyfully +have her scraggy to have her poetical, can hardly object to dewberries. +Indeed the act of eating them is dainty and induces musing. The dewberry +is a sister to the lotus, and an innocent sister. You eat: mouth, eye, +and hand are occupied, and the undrugged mind free to roam. And so it +was with the damsel who knelt there. The little skylark went up above +her, all song, to the smooth southern cloud lying along the blue: from +a dewy copse dark over her nodding hat the blackbird fluted, calling to +her with thrice mellow note: the kingfisher flashed emerald out of green +osiers: a bow-winged heron travelled aloft, seeking solitude a boat +slipped toward her, containing a dreamy youth; and still she plucked +the fruit, and ate, and mused, as if no fairy prince were invading her +territories, and as if she wished not for one, or knew not her wishes. +Surrounded by the green shaven meadows, the pastoral summer buzz, +the weir-fall's thundering white, amid the breath and beauty of wild +flowers, she was a bit of lovely human life in a fair setting; a +terrible attraction. The Magnetic Youth leaned round to note his +proximity to the weir-piles, and beheld the sweet vision. Stiller and +stiller grew nature, as at the meeting of two electric clouds. Her +posture was so graceful, that though he was making straight for the +weir, he dared not dip a scull. Just then one enticing dewberry caught +her eyes. He was floating by unheeded, and saw that her hand stretched +low, and could not gather what it sought. A stroke from his right +brought him beside her. The damsel glanced up dismayed, and her whole +shape trembled over the brink. Richard sprang from his boat into the +water. Pressing a hand beneath her foot, which she had thrust against +the crumbling wet sides of the bank to save herself, he enabled her to +recover her balance, and gain safe earth, whither he followed her. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +He had landed on an island of the still-vexed Bermoothes. The world +lay wrecked behind him: Raynham hung in mists, remote, a phantom to +the vivid reality of this white hand which had drawn him thither away +thousands of leagues in an eye-twinkle. Hark, how Ariel sang overhead! +What splendour in the heavens! What marvels of beauty about his +enchanted brows! And, O you wonder! Fair Flame! by whose light the +glories of being are now first seen....Radiant Miranda! Prince Ferdinand +is at your feet. + +Or is it Adam, his rib taken from his side in sleep, and thus +transformed, to make him behold his Paradise, and lose it?... + +The youth looked on her with as glowing an eye. It was the First Woman +to him. + +And she--mankind was all Caliban to her, saving this one princely youth. + +So to each other said their changing eyes in the moment they stood +together; he pale, and she blushing. + +She was indeed sweetly fair, and would have been held fair among rival +damsels. On a magic shore, and to a youth educated by a System, strung +like an arrow drawn to the head, he, it might be guessed, could fly +fast and far with her. The soft rose in her cheeks, the clearness of her +eyes, bore witness to the body's virtue; and health and happy blood were +in her bearing. Had she stood before Sir Austin among rival damsels, +that Scientific Humanist, for the consummation of his System, would have +thrown her the handkerchief for his son. The wide summer-hat, nodding +over her forehead to her brows, seemed to flow with the flowing heavy +curls, and those fire-threaded mellow curls, only half-curls, waves +of hair call them, rippling at the ends, went like a sunny red-veined +torrent down her back almost to her waist: a glorious vision to the +youth, who embraced it as a flower of beauty, and read not a feature. +There were curious features of colour in her face for him to have read. +Her brows, thick and brownish against a soft skin showing the action of +the blood, met in the bend of a bow, extending to the temples long and +level: you saw that she was fashioned to peruse the sights of earth, +and by the pliability of her brows that the wonderful creature used her +faculty, and was not going to be a statue to the gazer. Under the dark +thick brows an arch of lashes shot out, giving a wealth of darkness to +the full frank blue eyes, a mystery of meaning--more than brain was ever +meant to fathom: richer, henceforth, than all mortal wisdom to Prince +Ferdinand. For when nature turns artist, and produces contrasts of +colour on a fair face, where is the Sage, or what the Oracle, shall +match the depth of its lightest look? + +Prince Ferdinand was also fair. In his slim boating-attire his figure +looked heroic. His hair, rising from the parting to the right of his +forehead, in what his admiring Lady Blandish called his plume, fell away +slanting silkily to the temples across the nearly imperceptible upward +curve of his brows there--felt more than seen, so slight it was--and +gave to his profile a bold beauty, to which his bashful, breathless air +was a flattering charm. An arrow drawn to the head, capable of flying +fast and far with her! He leaned a little forward, drinking her in +with all his eyes, and young Love has a thousand. Then truly the System +triumphed, just ere it was to fall; and could Sir Austin have been +content to draw the arrow to the head, and let it fly, when it would +fly, he might have pointed to his son again, and said to the world, +"Match him!" Such keen bliss as the youth had in the sight of her, an +innocent youth alone has powers of soul in him to experience. + +"O Women!" says The Pilgrim's Scrip, in one of its solitary outbursts, +"Women, who like, and will have for hero, a rake! how soon are you not +to learn that you have taken bankrupts to your bosoms, and that the +putrescent gold that attracted you is the slime of the Lake of Sin!" + +If these two were Ferdinand and Miranda, Sir Austin was not Prospero, +and was not present, or their fates might have been different. + +So they stood a moment, changing eyes, and then Miranda spoke, and they +came down to earth, feeling no less in heaven. + +She spoke to thank him for his aid. She used quite common simple words; +and used them, no doubt, to express a common simple meaning: but to him +she was uttering magic, casting spells, and the effect they had on him +was manifested in the incoherence of his replies, which were too foolish +to be chronicled. + +The couple were again mute. Suddenly Miranda, with an exclamation of +anguish, and innumerable lights and shadows playing over her lovely +face, clapped her hands, crying aloud, "My book! my book!" and ran to +the bank. + +Prince Ferdinand was at her side. "What have you lost?" he said. + +"My book!" she answered, her delicious curls swinging across her +shoulders to the stream. Then turning to him, "Oh, no, no! let me +entreat you not to," she said; "I do not so very much mind losing it." +And in her eagerness to restrain him she unconsciously laid her gentle +hand upon his arm, and took the force of motion out of him. + +"Indeed, I do not really care for the silly book," she continued, +withdrawing her hand quickly, and reddening. "Pray, do not!" + +The young gentleman had kicked off his shoes. No sooner was the spell +of contact broken than he jumped in. The water was still troubled and +discoloured by his introductory adventure, and, though he ducked his +head with the spirit of a dabchick, the book was missing. A scrap of +paper floating from the bramble just above the water, and looking as if +fire had caught its edges and it had flown from one adverse element +to the other, was all he could lay hold of; and he returned to land +disconsolately, to hear Miranda's murmured mixing of thanks and pretty +expostulations. + +"Let me try again," he said. + +"No, indeed!" she replied, and used the awful threat: "I will run away +if you do," which effectually restrained him. + +Her eye fell on the fire-stained scrap of paper, and brightened, as she +cried, "There, there! you have what I want. It is that. I do not care +for the book. No, please! You are not to look at it. Give it me." + +Before her playfully imperative injunction was fairly spoken, Richard +had glanced at the document and discovered a Griffin between two +Wheatsheaves: his crest in silver: and below--O wonderment immense! his +own handwriting! + +He handed it to her. She took it, and put it in her bosom. + +Who would have thought, that, where all else perished, Odes, Idyls, +Lines, Stanzas, this one Sonnet to the stars should be miraculously +reserved for such a starry fate--passing beatitude! + +As they walked silently across the meadow, Richard strove to remember +the hour and the mood of mind in which he had composed the notable +production. The stars were invoked, as seeing and foreseeing all, +to tell him where then his love reclined, and so forth; Hesper was +complacent enough to do so, and described her in a couplet-- + + "Through sunset's amber see me shining fair, + As her blue eyes shine through her golden hair." + +And surely no words could be more prophetic. Here were two blue eyes and +golden hair; and by some strange chance, that appeared like the working +of a divine finger, she had become the possessor of the prophecy, she +that was to fulfil it! The youth was too charged with emotion to speak. +Doubtless the damsel had less to think of, or had some trifling burden +on her conscience, for she seemed to grow embarrassed. At last she drew +up her chin to look at her companion under the nodding brim of her hat +(and the action gave her a charmingly freakish air), crying, "But where +are you going to? You are wet through. Let me thank you again; and, +pray, leave me, and go home and change instantly." + +"Wet?" replied the magnetic muser, with a voice of tender interest; +"not more than one foot, I hope. I will leave you while you dry your +stockings in the sun." + +At this she could not withhold a shy laugh. + +"Not I, but you. You would try to get that silly book for me, and you +are dripping wet. Are you not very uncomfortable?" + +In all sincerity he assured her that he was not. + +"And you really do not feel that you are wet?" + +He really did not: and it was a fact that he spoke truth. + +She pursed her dewberry mouth in the most comical way, and her blue eyes +lightened laughter out of the half-closed lids. + +"I cannot help it," she said, her mouth opening, and sounding harmonious +bells of laughter in his ears. "Pardon me, won't you?" + +His face took the same soft smiling curves in admiration of her. + +"Not to feel that you have been in the water, the very moment after!" +she musically interjected, seeing she was excused. + +"It's true," he said; and his own gravity then touched him to join a +duet with her, which made them no longer feel strangers, and did the +work of a month of intimacy. Better than sentiment, laughter opens the +breast to love; opens the whole breast to his full quiver, instead of +a corner here and there for a solitary arrow. Hail the occasion +propitious, O British young! and laugh and treat love as an honest God, +and dabble not with the sentimental rouge. These two laughed, and the +souls of each cried out to other, "It is I it is I." + +They laughed and forgot the cause of their laughter, and the sun dried +his light river clothing, and they strolled toward the blackbird's +copse, and stood near a stile in sight of the foam of the weir and the +many-coloured rings of eddies streaming forth from it. + +Richard's boat, meanwhile, had contrived to shoot the weir, and was +swinging, bottom upward, broadside with the current down the rapid +backwater. + +"Will you let it go?" said the damsel, eying it curiously. + +"It can't be stopped," he replied, and could have added: "What do I care +for it now!" + +His old life was whirled away with it, dead, drowned. His new life was +with her, alive, divine. + +She flapped low the brim of her hat. "You must really not come any +farther," she softly said. + +"And will you go, and not tell me who you are?" he asked, growing bold +as the fears of losing her came across him. "And will you not tell me +before you go"--his face burned--"how you came by that--that paper?" + +She chose to select the easier question for answer: "You ought to know +me; we have been introduced." Sweet was her winning off-hand affability. + +"Then who, in heaven's name, are you? Tell me! I never could have +forgotten you." + +"You have, I think," she said. + +"Impossible that we could ever have met, and I forget you!" + +She looked up at him. + +"Do you remember Belthorpe?" + +"Belthorpe! Belthorpe!" quoth Richard, as if he had to touch his brain +to recollect there was such a place. "Do you mean old Blaize's farm?" + +"Then I am old Blaize's niece." She tripped him a soft curtsey. + +The magnetized youth gazed at her. By what magic was it that this divine +sweet creature could be allied with that old churl! + +"Then what--what is your name?" said his mouth, while his eyes added, "O +wonderful creature! How came you to enrich the earth?" + +"Have you forgot the Desboroughs of Dorset, too?" she peered at him from +a side-bend of the flapping brim. + +"The Desboroughs of Dorset?" A light broke in on him. "And have you +grown to this? That little girl I saw there!" + +He drew close to her to read the nearest features of the vision. She +could no more laugh off the piercing fervour of his eyes. Her volubility +fluttered under his deeply wistful look, and now neither voice was high, +and they were mutually constrained. + +"You see," she murmured, "we are old acquaintances." + +Richard, with his eyes still intently fixed on her, returned, "You are +very beautiful!" + +The words slipped out. Perfect simplicity is unconsciously audacious. +Her overpowering beauty struck his heart, and, like an instrument that +is touched and answers to the touch, he spoke. + +Miss Desborough made an effort to trifle with this terrible directness; +but his eyes would not be gainsaid, and checked her lips. She turned +away from them, her bosom a little rebellious. Praise so passionately +spoken, and by one who has been a damsel's first dream, dreamed of +nightly many long nights, and clothed in the virgin silver of her +thoughts in bud, praise from him is coin the heart cannot reject, if it +would. She quickened her steps. + +"I have offended you!" said a mortally wounded voice across her +shoulder. + +That he should think so were too dreadful. + +"Oh no, no! you would never offend me." She gave him her whole sweet +face. + +"Then why--why do you leave me?" + +"Because," she hesitated, "I must go." + +"No. You must not go. Why must you go? Do not go." + +"Indeed I must," she said, pulling at the obnoxious broad brim of her +hat; and, interpreting a pause he made for his assent to her rational +resolve, shyly looking at him, she held her hand out, and said, +"Good-bye," as if it were a natural thing to say. + +The hand was pure white--white and fragrant as the frosted blossom of a +Maynight. It was the hand whose shadow, cast before, he had last +night bent his head reverentially above, and kissed--resigning +himself thereupon over to execution for payment of the penalty of such +daring--by such bliss well rewarded. + +He took the hand, and held it, gazing between her eyes. + +"Good-bye," she said again, as frankly as she could, and at the same +time slightly compressing her fingers on his in token of adieu. It was a +signal for his to close firmly upon hers. + +"You will not go?" + +"Pray, let me," she pleaded, her sweet brows suing in wrinkles. + +"You will not go?" Mechanically he drew the white hand nearer his +thumping heart. + +"I must," she faltered piteously. + +"You will not go?" + +"Oh yes! yes!" + +"Tell me. Do you wish to go?" + +The question was a subtle one. A moment or two she did not answer, and +then forswore herself, and said, Yes. + +"Do you--you wish to go?" He looked with quivering eyelids under hers. + +A fainter Yes responded. + +"You wish--wish to leave me?" His breath went with the words. + +"Indeed I must." + +Her hand became a closer prisoner. + +All at once an alarming delicious shudder went through her frame. From +him to her it coursed, and back from her to him. Forward and back love's +electric messenger rushed from heart to heart, knocking at each, till it +surged tumultuously against the bars of its prison, crying out for its +mate. They stood trembling in unison, a lovely couple under these fair +heavens of the morning. + +When he could get his voice it said, "Will you go?" + +But she had none to reply with, and could only mutely bend upward her +gentle wrist. + +"Then, farewell!" he said, and, dropping his lips to the soft fair hand, +kissed it, and hung his head, swinging away from her, ready for death. + +Strange, that now she was released she should linger by him. Strange, +that his audacity, instead of the executioner, brought blushes and timid +tenderness to his side, and the sweet words, "You are not angry with +me?" + +"With you, O Beloved!" cried his soul. "And you forgive me, fair +charity!" + +"I think it was rude of me to go without thanking you again," she said, +and again proffered her hand. + +The sweet heaven-bird shivered out his song above him. The gracious +glory of heaven fell upon his soul. He touched her hand, not moving +his eyes from her, nor speaking, and she, with a soft word of farewell, +passed across the stile, and up the pathway through the dewy shades of +the copse, and out of the arch of the light, away from his eyes. + +And away with her went the wild enchantment. He looked on barren air. +But it was no more the world of yesterday. The marvellous splendours had +sown seeds in him, ready to spring up and bloom at her gaze; and in his +bosom now the vivid conjuration of her tones, her face, her shape, makes +them leap and illumine him like fitful summer lightnings ghosts of the +vanished sun. + +There was nothing to tell him that he had been making love and declaring +it with extraordinary rapidity; nor did he know it. Soft flushed cheeks! +sweet mouth! strange sweet brows! eyes of softest fire! how could his +ripe eyes behold you, and not plead to keep you? Nay, how could he let +you go? And he seriously asked himself that question. + +To-morrow this place will have a memory--the river and the meadow, and +the white falling weir: his heart will build a temple here; and the +skylark will be its high-priest, and the old blackbird its glossy-gowned +chorister, and there will be a sacred repast of dewberries. To-day the +grass is grass: his heart is chased by phantoms and finds rest nowhere. +Only when the most tender freshness of his flower comes across him does +he taste a moment's calm; and no sooner does it come than it gives place +to keen pangs of fear that she may not be his for ever. + +Erelong he learns that her name is Lucy. Erelong he meets Ralph, and +discovers that in a day he has distanced him by a sphere. He and Ralph +and the curate of Lobourne join in their walks, and raise classical +discussions on ladies' hair, fingering a thousand delicious locks, from +those of Cleopatra to the Borgia's. "Fair! fair! all of them fair!" +sighs the melancholy curate, "as are those women formed for our +perdition! I think we have in this country what will match the Italian +or the Greek." His mind flutters to Mrs. Doria, Richard blushes +before the vision of Lucy, and Ralph, whose heroine's hair is a dark +luxuriance, dissents, and claims a noble share in the slaughter of men +for dark-haired Wonders. They have no mutual confidences, but they are +singularly kind to each other, these three children of instinct. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +Lady Blandish, and others who professed an interest in the fortunes and +future of the systematized youth, had occasionally mentioned names of +families whose alliance according to apparent calculations, would not +degrade his blood: and over these names, secretly preserved on an +open leaf of the note-book, Sir Austin, as he neared the metropolis, +distantly dropped his eye. There were names historic and names +mushroomic; names that the Conqueror might have called in his +muster-roll; names that had been, clearly, tossed into the upper stratum +of civilized lifer by a millwheel or a merchant-stool. Against them +the baronet had written M. or Po. or Pr.--signifying, Money, Position, +Principles, favouring the latter with special brackets. The wisdom of a +worldly man, which he could now and then adopt, determined him, before +he commenced his round of visits, to consult and sound his solicitor and +his physician thereanent; lawyers and doctors being the rats who know +best the merits of a house, and on what sort of foundation it may be +standing. + +Sir Austin entered the great city with a sad mind. The memory of his +misfortune came upon him vividly, as if no years had intervened, and it +were but yesterday that he found the letter telling him that he had no +wife and his son no mother. He wandered on foot through the streets the +first night of his arrival, looking strangely at the shops and shows +and bustle of the world from which he had divorced himself; feeling as +destitute as the poorest vagrant. He had almost forgotten how to find +his way about, and came across his old mansion in his efforts to regain +his hotel. The windows were alight--signs of merry life within. He +stared at it from the shadow of the opposite side. It seemed to him he +was a ghost gazing upon his living past. And then the phantom which had +stood there mocking while he felt as other men--the phantom, now flesh +and blood reality, seized and convulsed his heart, and filled its +unforgiving crevices with bitter ironic venom. He remembered by the time +reflection returned to him that it was Algernon, who had the house at +his disposal, probably giving a card-party, or something of the sort. In +the morning, too, he remembered that he had divorced the world to wed a +System, and must be faithful to that exacting Spouse, who, now alone of +things on earth, could fortify and recompense him. + +Mr. Thompson received his client with the dignity and emotion due to +such a rent-roll and the unexpectedness of the honour. He was a thin +stately man of law, garbed as one who gave audience to acred bishops, +and carrying on his countenance the stamp of paternity to the parchment +skins, and of a virtuous attachment to Port wine sufficient to increase +his respectability in the eyes of moral Britain. After congratulating +Sir Austin on the fortunate issue of two or three suits, and being +assured that the baronet's business in town had no concern therewith, +Mr. Thompson ventured to hope that the young heir was all his father +could desire him to be, and heard with satisfaction that he was a +pattern to the youth of the Age. + +"A difficult time of life, Sir Austin!" said the old lawyer, shaking his +head. "We must keep our eyes on them--keep awake! The mischief is done +in a minute." + +"We must take care to have seen where we planted, and that the root +was sound, or the mischief will do itself in site of, or under the very +spectacles of, supervision," said the baronet. + +His legal adviser murmured "Exactly," as if that were his own idea, +adding, "It is my plan with Ripton, who has had the honour of an +introduction to you, and a very pleasant time he spent with my young +friend, whom he does not forget. Ripton follows the Law. He is articled +to me, and will, I trust, succeed me worthily in your confidence. I +bring him into town in the morning; I take him back at night. I think I +may say that I am quite content with him." + +"Do you think," said Sir Austin, fixing his brows, "that you can trace +every act of his to its motive?" + +The old lawyer bent forward and humbly requested that this might be +repeated. + +"Do you"--Sir Austin held the same searching expression--"do you +establish yourself in a radiating centre of intuition: do you base +your watchfulness on so thorough an acquaintance with his character, so +perfect a knowledge of the instrument, that all its movements--even the +eccentric ones--are anticipated by you, and provided for?" + +The explanation was a little too long for the old lawyer to entreat +another repetition. Winking with the painful deprecation of a deaf man, +Mr. Thompson smiled urbanely, coughed conciliatingly, and said he was +afraid he could not affirm that much, though he was happily enabled to +say that Ripton had borne an extremely good character at school. + +"I find," Sir Austin remarked, as sardonically he relaxed his inspecting +pose and mien, "there are fathers who are content to be simply obeyed. +Now I require not only that my son should obey; I would have him +guiltless of the impulse to gainsay my wishes--feeling me in him +stronger than his undeveloped nature, up to a certain period, where my +responsibility ends and his commences. Man is a self-acting machine. He +cannot cease to be a machine; but, though self-acting, he may lose the +powers of self-guidance, and in a wrong course his very vitalities hurry +him to perdition. Young, he is an organism ripening to the set mechanic +diurnal round, and while so he needs all the angels to hold watch over +him that he grow straight and healthy, and fit for what machinal duties +he may have to perform"... + +Mr. Thompson agitated his eyebrows dreadfully. He was utterly lost. He +respected Sir Austin's estates too much to believe for a moment he was +listening to downright folly. Yet how otherwise explain the fact of +his excellent client being incomprehensible to him? For a middle-aged +gentleman, and one who has been in the habit of advising and managing, +will rarely have a notion of accusing his understanding; and Mr. +Thompson had not the slightest notion of accusing his. But the baronet's +condescension in coming thus to him, and speaking on the subject nearest +his heart, might well affect him, and he quickly settled the case in +favour of both parties, pronouncing mentally that his honoured client +had a meaning, and so deep it was, so subtle, that no wonder he +experienced difficulty in giving it fitly significant words. + +Sir Austin elaborated his theory of the Organism and the Mechanism, +for his lawyer's edification. At a recurrence of the word "healthy" Mr. +Thompson caught him up: + +"I apprehended you! Oh, I agree with you, Sir Austin! entirely! Allow +me to ring for my son Ripton. I think, if you condescend to examine +him, you will say that regular habits, and a diet of nothing but +law-reading--for other forms of literature I strictly interdict--have +made him all that you instance." + +Mr. Thompson's hand was on the bell. Sir Austin arrested him. + +"Permit me to see the lad at his occupation," said he. + +Our old friend Ripton sat in a room apart with the confidential clerk, +Mr. Beazley, a veteran of law, now little better than a document, +looking already signed and sealed, and shortly to be delivered, who +enjoined nothing from his pupil and companion save absolute silence, and +sounded his praises to his father at the close of days when it had +been rigidly observed--not caring, or considering, the finished dry old +document that he was, under what kind of spell a turbulent commonplace +youth could be charmed into stillness for six hours of the day. Ripton +was supposed to be devoted to the study of Blackstone. A tome of the +classic legal commentator lay extended outside his desk, under the +partially lifted lid of which nestled the assiduous student's head--law +being thus brought into direct contact with his brain-pan. The +office-door opened, and he heard not; his name was called, and he +remained equally moveless. His method of taking in Blackstone seemed +absorbing as it was novel. + +"Comparing notes, I daresay," whispered Mr. Thompson to Sir Austin. "I +call that study!" + +The confidential clerk rose, and bowed obsequious senility. + +"Is it like this every day, Beazley?" Mr. Thompson asked with parental +pride. + +"Ahem!" the old clerk replied, "he is like this every day, sir. I could +not ask more of a mouse." + +Sir Austin stepped forward to the desk. His proximity roused one of +Ripton's senses, which blew a pall to the others. Down went the lid of +the desk. Dismay, and the ardours of study, flashed together in Ripton's +face. He slouched from his perch with the air of one who means rather +to defend his position than welcome a superior, the right hand in his +waistcoat pocket fumbling a key, the left catching at his vacant stool. + +Sir Austin put two fingers on the youth's shoulder, and said, leaning +his head a little on one side, in a way habitual to him, "I am glad to +find my son's old comrade thus profitably occupied. I know what study is +myself. But beware of prosecuting it too excitedly! Come! you must not +be offended at our interruption; you will soon take up the thread +again. Besides, you know, you must get accustomed to the visits of your +client." + +So condescending and kindly did this speech sound to Mr. Thompson, that, +seeing Ripton still preserve his appearance of disorder and sneaking +defiance, he thought fit to nod and frown at the youth, and desired him +to inform the baronet what particular part of Blackstone he was absorbed +in mastering at that moment. + +Ripton hesitated an instant, and blundered out, with dubious +articulation, "The Law of Gravelkind." + +"What Law?" said Sir Austin, perplexed. + +"Gravelkind," again rumbled Ripton's voice. + +Sir Austin turned to Mr. Thompson for an explanation. The old lawyer was +shaking his law-box. + +"Singular!" he exclaimed. "He will make that mistake! What law, sir?" + +Ripton read his error in the sternly painful expression of his father's +face, and corrected himself. "Gavelkind, sir." + +"Ah!" said Mr. Thompson, with a sigh of relief. "Gravelkind, indeed! +Gavelkind! An old Kentish"--He was going to expound, but Sir Austin +assured him he knew it, and a very absurd law it was, adding, "I should +like to look at your son's notes, or remarks on the judiciousness of +that family arrangement, if he had any." + +"You were making notes, or referring to them, as we entered," said Mr. +Thompson to the sucking lawyer; "a very good plan, which I have always +enjoined on you. Were you not?" + +Ripton stammered that he was afraid he hid not any notes to show, worth +seeing. + +"What were you doing then, sir?" + +"Making notes," muttered Ripton, looking incarnate subterfuge. + +"Exhibit!" + +Ripton glanced at his desk and then at his father; at Sir Austin, and at +the confidential clerk. He took out his key. It would not fit the hole. + +"Exhibit!" was peremptorily called again. + +In his praiseworthy efforts to accommodate the keyhole, Ripton +discovered that the desk was already unlocked. Mr. Thompson marched to +it, and held the lid aloft. A book was lying open within, which Ripton +immediately hustled among a mass of papers and tossed into a dark +corner, not before the glimpse of a coloured frontispiece was caught by +Sir Austin's eye. + +The baronet smiled, and said, "You study Heraldry, too? Are you fond of +the science?" + +Ripton replied that he was very fond of it--extremely attached, and +threw a further pile of papers into the dark corner. + +The notes had been less conspicuously placed, and the search for them +was tedious and vain. Papers, not legal, or the fruits of study, were +found, that made Mr. Thompson more intimate with the condition of +his son's exchequer; nothing in the shape of a remark on the Law of +Gavelkind. + +Mr. Thompson suggested to his son that they might be among those +scraps he had thrown carelessly into the dark corner. Ripton, though he +consented to inspect them, was positive they were not there. + +"What have we here?" said Mr. Thompson, seizing a neatly folded paper +addressed to the Editor of a law publication, as Ripton brought them +forth, one by one. Forthwith Mr. Thompson fixed his spectacles and read +aloud: + + "To the Editor of the 'Jurist.' + +"Sir,--In your recent observations on the great case of Crim"-- + +Mr. Thompson hem'd! and stopped short, like a man who comes unexpectedly +upon a snake in his path. Mr. Beazley's feet shuffled. Sir Austin +changed the position of an arm. + +"It's on the other side, I think," gasped Ripton. + +Mr. Thompson confidently turned over, and intoned with emphasis. + +"To Absalom, the son of David, the little Jew usurer of Bond Court, +Whitecross Gutters, for his introduction to Venus, I O U Five pounds, +when I can pay. + + "Signed: RIPTON THOMPSON." + +Underneath this fictitious legal instrument was discreetly appended: + +"(Mem. Document not binding.)" + +There was a pause: an awful under-breath of sanctified wonderment and +reproach passed round the office. Sir Austin assumed an attitude. +Mr. Thompson shed a glance of severity on his confidential clerk, who +parried by throwing up his hands. + +Ripton, now fairly bewildered, stuffed another paper under his father's +nose, hoping the outside perhaps would satisfy him: it was marked "Legal +Considerations." Mr. Thompson had no idea of sparing or shielding +his son. In fact, like many men whose self-love is wounded by their +offspring, he felt vindictive, and was ready to sacrifice him up to +a certain point, for the good of both. He therefore opened the paper, +expecting something worse than what he had hitherto seen, despite its +formal heading, and he was not disappointed. + +The "Legal Considerations" related to the Case regarding, which Ripton +had conceived it imperative upon him to address a letter to the Editor +of the "Jurist," and was indeed a great case, and an ancient; revived +apparently for the special purpose of displaying the forensic abilities +of the Junior Counsel for the Plaintiff, Mr. Ripton Thompson, whose +assistance the Attorney-General, in his opening statement, congratulated +himself on securing; a rather unusual thing, due probably to the +eminence and renown of that youthful gentleman at the Bar of his +country. So much was seen from the copy of a report purporting to +be extracted from a newspaper, and prefixed to the Junior Counsel's +remarks, or Legal Considerations, on the conduct of the Case, the +admissibility and non-admissibility of certain evidence, and the +ultimate decision of the judges. + +Mr. Thompson, senior, lifted the paper high, with the spirit of +one prepared to do execution on the criminal, and in the voice of a +town-crier, varied by a bitter accentuation and satiric sing-song tone, +deliberately read: + + "VULCAN v. MARS. + +"The Attorney-General, assisted by Mr. Ripton Thompson, appeared on +behalf of the Plaintiff. Mr. Serjeant Cupid, Q.C., and Mr. Capital +Opportunity, for the Defendant." + +"Oh!" snapped Mr. Thompson, senior, peering venom at the unfortunate +Ripton over his spectacles, "your notes are on that issue, sir! Thus you +employ your time, sir!" + +With another side-shot at the confidential clerk, who retired +immediately behind a strong entrenchment of shrugs, Mr. Thompson was +pushed by the devil of his rancour to continue reading: + +"This Case is too well known to require more than a partial summary of +particulars"... + +"Ahem! we will skip the particulars, however partial," said Mr. +Thompson. "Ah!--what do you mean here, sir,--but enough! I think we may +be excused your Legal Considerations on such a Case. This is how you +employ your law-studies, sir! You put them to this purpose? Mr. Beazley! +you will henceforward sit alone. I must have this young man under my own +eye. Sir Austin! permit me to apologize to you for subjecting you to a +scene so disagreeable. It was a father's duty not to spare him." + +Mr. Thompson wiped his forehead, as Brutes might have done after passing +judgment on the scion of his house. + +"These papers," he went on, fluttering Ripton's precious lucubrations in +a waving judicial hand, "I shall retain. The day will come when he will +regard them with shame. And it shall be his penance, his punishment, +to do so! Stop!" he cried, as Ripton was noiselessly shutting his desk, +"have you more of them, sir; of a similar description? Rout them out! +Let us know you at your worst. What have you there--in that corner?" + +Ripton was understood to say he devoted that corner to old briefs on +important cases. + +Mr. Thompson thrust his trembling fingers among the old briefs, and +turned over the volume Sir Austin had observed, but without much +remarking it, for his suspicions had not risen to print. + +"A Manual of Heraldry?" the baronet politely, and it may be ironically, +inquired, before it could well escape. + +"I like it very much," said Ripton, clutching the book in dreadful +torment. + +"Allow me to see that you have our arms and crest correct." The baronet +proffered a hand for the book. + +"A Griffin between two Wheatsheaves," cried Ripton, still clutching it +nervously. + +Mr. Thompson, without any notion of what he was doing, drew the book +from Ripton's hold; whereupon the two seniors laid their grey heads +together over the title-page. It set forth in attractive characters +beside a coloured frontispiece, which embodied the promise displayed +there, the entrancing adventures of Miss Random, a strange young lady. + +Had there been a Black Hole within the area of those law regions to +consign Ripton to there and then, or an Iron Rod handy to mortify his +sinful flesh, Mr. Thompson would have used them. As it was, he contented +himself by looking Black Holes and Iron Rods at the detected youth, who +sat on his perch insensible to what might happen next, collapsed. + +Mr. Thompson cast the wicked creature down with a "Pah!" He, however, +took her up again, and strode away with her. Sir Austin gave Ripton a +forefinger, and kindly touched his head, saying, "Good-bye, boy! At some +future date Richard will be happy to see you at Raynham." + +Undoubtedly this was a great triumph to the System! + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +The conversation between solicitor and client was resumed. + +"Is it possible," quoth Mr. Thompson, the moment he had ushered his +client into his private room, "that you will consent, Sir Austin, to see +him and receive him again?" + +"Certainly," the baronet replied. "Why not? This by no means astonishes +me. When there is no longer danger to my son he will be welcome as he +was before. He is a schoolboy. I knew it. I expected it. The results of +your principle, Thompson!" + +"One of the very worst books of that abominable class!" exclaimed the +old lawyer, opening at the coloured frontispiece, from which brazen Miss +Random smiled bewitchingly out, as if she had no doubt of captivating +Time and all his veterans on a fair field. "Pah!" he shut her to with +the energy he would have given to the office of publicly slapping +her face; "from this day I diet him on bread and water--rescind his +pocket-money!--How he could have got hold of such a book! How he--! +And what ideas! Concealing them from me as he has done so cunningly! +He trifles with vice! His mind is in a putrid state! I might have +believed--I did believe--I might have gone on believing--my son Ripton +to be a moral young man!" The old lawyer interjected on the delusion of +fathers, and sat down in a lamentable abstraction. + +"The lad has come out!" said Sir Austin. "His adoption of the legal form +is amusing. He trifles with vice, true: people newly initiated are as +hardy as its intimates, and a young sinner's amusements will resemble +those of a confirmed debauchee. The satiated, and the insatiate, +appetite alike appeal to extremes. You are astonished at this revelation +of your son's condition. I expected it; though assuredly, believe me, +not this sudden and indisputable proof of it. But I knew that the seed +was in him, and therefore I have not latterly invited him to Raynham. +School, and the corruption there, will bear its fruits sooner or later. +I could advise you, Thompson, what to do with him: it would be my plan." + +Mr. Thompson murmured, like a true courtier, that he should esteem it +an honour to be favoured with Sir Austin Feverel's advice: secretly +resolute, like a true Briton, to follow his own. + +"Let him, then," continued the baronet, "see vice in its nakedness. +While he has yet some innocence, nauseate him! Vice, taken little +by little, usurps gradually the whole creature. My counsel to you, +Thompson, would be, to drag him through the sinks of town." + +Mr. Thompson began to blink again. + +"Oh, I shall punish him, Sir Austin! Do not fear me, air. I have no +tenderness for vice." + +"That is not what is wanted, Thompson. You mistake me. He should be +dealt with gently. Heavens! do you hope to make him hate vice by making +him a martyr for its sake? You must descend from the pedestal of age to +become his Mentor: cause him to see how certainly and pitilessly vice +itself punishes: accompany him into its haunts"-- + +"Over town?" broke forth Mr. Thompson. + +"Over town," said the baronet. + +"And depend upon it," he added, "that, until fathers act thoroughly up +to their duty, we shall see the sights we see in great cities, and hear +the tales we hear in little villages, with death and calamity in our +homes, and a legacy of sorrow and shame to the generations to come. I +do aver," he exclaimed, becoming excited, "that, if it were not for +the duty to my son, and the hope I cherish in him, I, seeing the +accumulation of misery we are handing down to an innocent posterity--to +whom, through our sin, the fresh breath of life will be foul--I--yes! +I would hide my name! For whither are we tending? What home is pure +absolutely? What cannot our doctors and lawyers tell us?" + +Mr. Thompson acquiesced significantly. + +"And what is to come of this?" Sir Austin continued. "When the sins of +the fathers are multiplied by the sons, is not perdition the final +sum of things? And is not life, the boon of heaven, growing to be the +devil's game utterly? But for my son, I would hide my name. I would not +bequeath it to be cursed by them that walk above my grave!" + +This was indeed a terrible view of existence. Mr. Thompson felt uneasy. +There was a dignity in his client, an impressiveness in his speech, that +silenced remonstrating reason and the cry of long years of comfortable +respectability. Mr. Thompson went to church regularly; paid his rates +and dues without overmuch, or at least more than common, grumbling. On +the surface he was a good citizen, fond of his children, faithful to +his wife, devoutly marching to a fair seat in heaven on a path paved by +something better than a thousand a year. But here was a man sighting him +from below the surface, and though it was an unfair, unaccustomed, not +to say un-English, method of regarding one's fellow-man, Mr. Thompson +was troubled by it. What though his client exaggerated? Facts were at +the bottom of what he said. And he was acute--he had unmasked Ripton! +Since Ripton's exposure he winced at a personal application in the text +his client preached from. Possibly this was the secret source of part of +his anger against that peccant youth. + +Mr. Thompson shook his head, and, with dolefully puckered visage and a +pitiable contraction of his shoulders, rose slowly up from his chair. +Apparently he was about to speak, but he straightway turned and went +meditatively to a side-recess in the room, whereof he opened a door, +drew forth a tray and a decanter labelled Port, filled a glass for his +client, deferentially invited him to partake of it; filled another glass +for himself, and drank. + +That was his reply. + +Sir Austin never took wine before dinner. Thompson had looked as if he +meant to speak: he waited for Thompson's words. + +Mr. Thompson saw that, as his client did not join him in his glass, the +eloquence of that Porty reply was lost on his client. + +Having slowly ingurgitated and meditated upon this precious draught, +and turned its flavour over and over with an aspect of potent Judicial +wisdom (one might have thought that he was weighing mankind m the +balance), the old lawyer heaved, and said, sharpening his lips over +the admirable vintage, "The world is in a very sad state, I fear, Sir +Austin!" + +His client gazed at him queerly. + +"But that," Mr. Thompson added immediately, ill-concealing by his gaze +the glowing intestinal congratulations going on within him, "that is, +I think you would say, Sir Austin--if I could but prevail upon you--a +tolerably good character wine!" + +"There's virtue somewhere, I see, Thompson!" Sir Austin murmured, +without disturbing his legal adviser's dimples. + +The old lawyer sat down to finish his glass, saying, that such a wine +was not to be had everywhere. + +They were then outwardly silent for a apace. Inwardly one of them was +full of riot and jubilant uproar: as if the solemn fields of law were +suddenly to be invaded and possessed by troops of Bacchanals: and to +preserve a decently wretched physiognomy over it, and keep on terms with +his companion, he had to grimace like a melancholy clown in a pantomime. + +Mr. Thompson brushed back his hair. The baronet was still expectant. Mr. +Thompson sighed deeply, and emptied his glass. He combated the change +that had come over him. He tried not to see Ruby. He tried to feel +miserable, and it was not in him. He spoke, drawing what appropriate +inspirations he could from his client's countenance, to show that they +had views in common: "Degenerating sadly, I fear!" + +The baronet nodded. + +"According to what my wine-merchants say," continued Mr. Thompson, +"there can be no doubt about it." + +Sir Austin stared. + +"It's the grape, or the ground, or something," Mr. Thompson went on. +"All I can say is, our youngsters will have a bad look-out! In my +opinion Government should be compelled to send out a Commission to +inquire into the cause. To Englishmen it would be a public calamity. It +surprises me--I hear men sit and talk despondently of this extraordinary +disease of the vine, and not one of them seems to think it incumbent on +him to act, and do his best to stop it." He fronted his client like a +man who accuses an enormous public delinquency. "Nobody makes a stir! +The apathy of Englishmen will become proverbial. Pray, try it, Sir +Austin! Pray, allow me. Such a wine cannot disagree at any hour. Do! I +am allowanced two glasses three hours before dinner. Stomachic. I find +it agree with me surprisingly: quite a new man. I suppose it will last +our time. It must! What should we do? There's no Law possible without +it. Not a lawyer of us could live. Ours is an occupation which dries the +blood." + +The scene with Ripton had unnerved him, the wine had renovated, and +gratitude to the wine inspired his tongue. He thought that his client, +of the whimsical mind, though undoubtedly correct moral views, had need +of a glass. + +"Now that very wine--Sir Austin--I think I do not err in saying, that +very wine your respected father, Sir Pylcher Feverel, used to taste +whenever he came to consult my father, when I was a boy. And I remember +one day being called in, and Sir Pylcher himself poured me out a glass. +I wish I could call in Ripton now, and do the same. No! Leniency in such +a case as that!--The wine would not hurt him--I doubt if there be much +left for him to welcome his guests with. Ha! ha! Now if I could persuade +you, Sir Austin, as you do not take wine before dinner, some day to +favour me with your company at my little country cottage I have a wine +there--the fellow to that--I think you would, I do think you would"--Mr. +Thompson meant to say, he thought his client would arrive at something +of a similar jocund contemplation of his fellows in their degeneracy +that inspirited lawyers after potation, but condensed the sensual +promise into "highly approve." + +Sir Austin speculated on his legal adviser with a sour mouth comically +compressed. + +It stood clear to him that Thompson before his Port, and Thompson after, +were two different men. To indoctrinate him now was too late: it was +perhaps the time to make the positive use of him he wanted. + +He pencilled on a handy slip of paper: "Two prongs of a fork; the +World stuck between them--Port and the Palate: 'Tis one which fails +first--Down goes World;" and again the hieroglyph--"Port-spectacles." He +said, "I shall gladly accompany you this evening, Thompson," words that +transfigured the delighted lawyer, and ensigned the skeleton of a great +Aphorism to his pocket, there to gather flesh and form, with numberless +others in a like condition. + +"I came to visit my lawyer," he said to himself. "I think I have been +dealing with The World in epitome!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +The rumour circulated that Sir Austin Feverel, the recluse of Raynham, +the rank misogynist, the rich baronet, was in town, looking out a bride +for his only son and uncorrupted heir. Doctor Benjamin Bairam was the +excellent authority. Doctor Bairam had safely delivered Mrs. Deborah +Gossip of this interesting bantling, which was forthwith dandled in +dozens of feminine laps. Doctor Bairam could boast the first interview +with the famous recluse. He had it from his own lips that the object +of the baronet was to look out a bride for his only son and uncorrupted +heir; "and," added the doctor, "she'll be lucky who gets him." Which +was interpreted to mean, that he would be a catch; the doctor probably +intending to allude to certain extraordinary difficulties in the way of +a choice. + +A demand was made on the publisher of The Pilgrim's Scrip for all his +outstanding copies. Conventionalities were defied. A summer-shower of +cards fell on the baronet's table. + +He had few male friends. He shunned the Clubs as nests of scandal. The +cards he contemplated were mostly those of the sex, with the husband, +if there was a husband, evidently dragged in for propriety's sake. He +perused the cards and smiled. He knew their purpose. What terrible light +Thompson and Bairam had thrown on some of them! Heavens! in what a state +was the blood of this Empire. + +Before commencing his campaign he called on two ancient intimates, +Lord Heddon, and his distant cousin Darley Absworthy, both Members of +Parliament, useful men, though gouty, who had sown in their time a fine +crop of wild oats, and advocated the advantage of doing so, seeing that +they did not fancy themselves the worse for it. He found one with an +imbecile son and the other with consumptive daughters. "So much," he +wrote in the Note-book, "for the Wild Oats theory!" + +Darley was proud of his daughters' white and pink skins. "Beautiful +complexions," he called them. The eldest was in the market, immensely +admired. Sir Austin was introduced to her. She talked fluently and +sweetly. A youth not on his guard, a simple school-boy youth, or even +a man, might have fallen in love with her, she was so affable and fair. +There was something poetic about her. And she was quite well, she said, +the baronet frequently questioning her on that point. She intimated that +she was robust; but towards the close of their conversation her hand +would now and then travel to her side, and she breathed painfully an +instant, saying, "Isn't it odd? Dora, Adela, and myself, we all feel +the same queer sensation--about the heart, I think it is--after talking +much." + +Sir Austin nodded and blinked sadly, exclaiming to his soul, "Wild oats! +wild oats!" + +He did not ask permission to see Dora and Adela. + +Lord Heddon vehemently preached wild oats. + +"It's all nonsense, Feverel," he said, "about bringing up a lad out of +the common way. He's all the better for a little racketing when he's +green--feels his bone and muscle learns to know the world. He'll never +be a man if he hasn't played at the old game one time in his life, and +the earlier the better. I've always found the best fellows were wildish +once. I don't care what he does when he's a green-horn; besides, he's +got an excuse for it then. You can't expect to have a man, if he doesn't +take a man's food. You'll have a milksop. And, depend upon it, when he +does break out he'll go to the devil, and nobody pities him. Look what +those fellows the grocers, do when they get hold of a young--what d'ye +call 'em?--apprentice. They know the scoundrel was born with a sweet +tooth. Well! they give him the run of the shop, and in a very short time +he soberly deals out the goods, a devilish deal too wise to abstract +a morsel even for the pleasure of stealing. I know you have contrary +theories. You hold that the young grocer should have a soul above sugar. +It won't do! Take my word for it, Feverel, it's a dangerous experiment, +that of bringing up flesh and blood in harness. No colt will bear it, +or he's a tame beast. And look you: take it on medical grounds. Early +excesses the frame will recover from: late ones break the constitution. +There's the case in a nutshell. How's your son?" + +"Sound and well!" replied Sir Austin. "And yours?" + +"Oh, Lipscombe's always the same!" Lord Heddon sighed peevishly. "He's +quiet--that's one good thing; but there's no getting the country to take +him, so I must give up hopes of that." + +Lord Lipscombe entering the room just then, Sir Austin surveyed him, and +was not astonished at the refusal of the country to take him. + +"Wild oats!" he thought, as he contemplated the headless, degenerate, +weedy issue and result. + +Both Darley Absworthy and Lord Heddon spoke of the marriage of their +offspring as a matter of course. "And if I were not a coward," Sir +Austin confessed to himself, "I should stand forth and forbid the +banns! This universal ignorance of the inevitable consequence of sin is +frightful! The wild oats plea is a torpedo that seems to have struck the +world, and rendered it morally insensible." However, they silenced him. +He was obliged to spare their feelings on a subject to him so deeply +sacred. The healthful image of his noble boy rose before him, a +triumphant living rejoinder to any hostile argument. + +He was content to remark to his doctor, that he thought the third +generation of wild oats would be a pretty thin crop! + +Families against whom neither Thompson lawyer nor Bairam physician could +recollect a progenitorial blot, either on the male or female side, +were not numerous. "Only," said the doctors "you really must not be too +exacting in these days, my dear Sir Austin. It is impossible to contest +your principle, and you are doing mankind incalculable service in +calling its attention to this the gravest of its duties: but as the +stream of civilization progresses we must be a little taken in the lump, +as it were. The world is, I can assure you--and I do not look only +above the surface, you can believe--the world is awakening to the vital +importance of the question." + +"Doctor," replied Sir Austin, "if you had a pure-blood Arab barb would +you cross him with a screw?" + +"Decidedly not," said the doctor. + +"Then permit me to say, I shall employ every care to match my son +according to his merits," Sir Austin returned. "I trust the world is +awakening, as you observe. I have been to my publisher, since my arrival +in town, with a manuscript 'Proposal for a New System of Education of +our British Youth,' which may come in opportunely. I think I am entitled +to speak on that subject." + +"Certainly," said the doctor. "You will admit, Sir Austin, that, +compared with continental nations--our neighbours, for instance--we +shine to advantage, in morals, as in everything else. I hope you admit +that?" + +"I find no consolation in shining by comparison with a lower standard," +said the baronet. "If I compare the enlightenment of your views--for +you admit my principle--with the obstinate incredulity of a country +doctor's, who sees nothing of the world, you are hardly flattered, I +presume?" + +Doctor Bairam would hardly be flattered at such a comparison, assuredly, +he interjected. + +"Besides," added the baronet, "the French make no pretences, and thereby +escape one of the main penalties of hypocrisy. Whereas we!--but I am not +their advocate, credit me. It is better, perhaps, to pay our homage to +virtue. At least it delays the spread of entire corruptness." + +Doctor Bairam wished the baronet success, and diligently endeavoured to +assist his search for a mate worthy of the pure-blood barb, by putting +several mamas, whom he visited, on the alert. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +Away with Systems! Away with a corrupt World! Let us breathe the air of +the Enchanted Island. + +Golden lie the meadows: golden run the streams; red gold is on the +pine-stems. The sun is coming down to earth, and walks the fields and +the waters. + +The sun is coming down to earth, and the fields and the waters shout to +him golden shouts. He comes, and his heralds run before him, and +touch the leaves of oaks and planes and beeches lucid green, and the +pine-stems redder gold; leaving brightest footprints upon thickly-weeded +banks, where the foxglove's last upper-bells incline, and bramble-shoots +wander amid moist rich herbage. The plumes of the woodland are alight; +and beyond them, over the open, 'tis a race with the long-thrown +shadows; a race across the heaths and up the hills, till, at the +farthest bourne of mounted eastern cloud, the heralds of the sun lay +rosy fingers and rest. + +Sweet are the shy recesses of the woodland. The ray treads softly +there. A film athwart the pathway quivers many-hued against purple shade +fragrant with warm pines, deep moss-beds, feathery ferns. The little +brown squirrel drops tail, and leaps; the inmost bird is startled to a +chance tuneless note. From silence into silence things move. + +Peeps of the revelling splendour above and around enliven the conscious +full heart within. The flaming West, the crimson heights, shower their +glories through voluminous leafage. But these are bowers where deep +bliss dwells, imperial joy, that owes no fealty to yonder glories, in +which the young lamb gambols and the spirits of men are glad. Descend, +great Radiance! embrace creation with beneficent fire, and pass from +us! You and the vice-regal light that succeeds to you, and all heavenly +pageants, are the ministers and the slaves of the throbbing content +within. + +For this is the home of the enchantment. Here, secluded from vexed +shores, the prince and princess of the island meet: here like darkling +nightingales they sit, and into eyes and ears and hands pour endless +ever-fresh treasures of their souls. + +Roll on, grinding wheels of the world: cries of ships going down in +a calm, groans of a System which will not know its rightful hour of +exultation, complain to the universe. You are not heard here. + +He calls her by her name, Lucy: and she, blushing at her great boldness, +has called him by his, Richard. Those two names are the key-notes of the +wonderful harmonies the angels sing aloft. + +"Lucy! my beloved!" + +"O Richard!" + +Out in the world there, on the skirts of the woodland, a sheep-boy pipes +to meditative eve on a penny-whistle. + +Love's musical instrument is as old, and as poor: it has but two stops; +and yet, you see, the cunning musician does thus much with it! + +Other speech they have little; light foam playing upon waves of feeling, +and of feeling compact, that bursts only when the sweeping volume is too +wild, and is no more than their sigh of tenderness spoken. + +Perhaps love played his tune so well because their natures had unblunted +edges, and were keen for bliss, confiding in it as natural food. To +gentlemen and ladies he fine-draws upon the viol, ravishingly; or blows +into the mellow bassoon; or rouses the heroic ardours of the trumpet; +or, it may be, commands the whole Orchestra for them. And they are +pleased. He is still the cunning musician. They languish, and taste +ecstasy: but it is, however sonorous, an earthly concert. For them the +spheres move not to two notes. They have lost, or forfeited and never +known, the first super-sensual spring of the ripe senses into passion; +when they carry the soul with them, and have the privileges of spirits +to walk disembodied, boundlessly to feel. Or one has it, and the other +is a dead body. Ambrosia let them eat, and drink the nectar: here sit a +couple to whom Love's simple bread and water is a finer feast. + +Pipe, happy sheep-bop, Love! Irradiated angels, unfold your wings and +lift your voices! + +They have out-flown philosophy. Their instinct has shot beyond the ken +of science. They were made for their Eden. + +"And this divine gift was in store for me!" + +So runs the internal outcry of each, clasping each: it is their +recurring refrain to the harmonies. How it illumined the years gone by +and suffused the living Future! + +"You for me: I for you!" + +"We are born for each other!" + +They believe that the angels have been busy about them from their +cradles. The celestial hosts have worthily striven to bring them +together. And, O victory! O wonder! after toil and pain, and +difficulties exceeding, the celestial hosts have succeeded! + +"Here we two sit who are written above as one!" + +Pipe, happy Love! pipe on to these dear innocents! + +The tide of colour has ebbed from the upper sky. In the West the sea +of sunken fire draws back; and the stars leap forth, and tremble, and +retire before the advancing moon, who slips the silver train of cloud +from her shoulders, and, with her foot upon the pine-tops, surveys +heaven. + +"Lucy, did you never dream of meeting me?" + +"O Richard! yes; for I remembered you." + +"Lucy! and did you pray that we might meet?" + +"I did!" + +Young as when she looked upon the lovers in Paradise, the fair Immortal +journeys onward. Fronting her, it is not night but veiled day. Full half +the sky is flushed. Not darkness, not day, but the nuptials of the two. + +"My own! my own for ever! You are pledged to me? Whisper!" + +He hears the delicious music. + +"And you are mine?" + +A soft beam travels to the fern-covert under the pinewood where they +sit, and for answer he has her eyes turned to him an instant, timidly +fluttering over the depths of his, and then downcast; for through her +eyes her soul is naked to him. + +"Lucy! my bride! my life!" + +The night-jar spins his dark monotony on the branch of the pine. The +soft beam travels round them, and listens to their hearts. Their lips +are locked. + +Pipe no more, Love, for a time! Pipe as you will you cannot express +their first kiss; nothing of its sweetness, and of the sacredness of +it nothing. St. Cecilia up aloft, before the silver organ-pipes of +Paradise, pressing fingers upon all the notes of which Love is but one, +from her you may hear it. + +So Love is silent. Out in the world there, on the skirts of the +woodland, the self-satisfied sheep-boy delivers a last complacent +squint down the length of his penny-whistle, and, with a flourish +correspondingly awry, he also marches into silence, hailed by supper. +The woods are still. There is heard but the night-jar spinning on the +pine-branch, circled by moonlight. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +Enchanted Islands have not yet rooted out their old brood of dragons. +Wherever there is romance, these monsters come by inimical attraction. +Because the heavens are certainly propitious to true lovers, the beasts +of the abysses are banded to destroy them, stimulated by innumerable +sad victories; and every love-tale is an Epic Par of the upper and lower +powers. I wish good fairies were a little more active. They seem to be +cajoled into security by the happiness of their favourites; whereas the +wicked are always alert, and circumspect. They let the little ones shut +their eyes to fancy they are not seen, and then commence. + +These appointments and meetings, involving a start from the dinner-table +at the hour of contemplative digestion and prime claret; the hour when +the wise youth Adrian delighted to talk at his ease--to recline in +dreamy consciousness that a work of good was going on inside him; +these abstractions from his studies, excesses of gaiety, and glumness, +heavings of the chest, and other odd signs, but mainly the disgusting +behaviour of his pupil at the dinner-table, taught Adrian to understand, +though the young gentleman was clever in excuses, that he had somehow +learnt there was another half to the divided Apple of Creation, and had +embarked upon the great voyage of discovery of the difference between +the two halves. With his usual coolness Adrian debated whether he might +be in the observatory or the practical stage of the voyage. For himself, +as a man and a philosopher, Adrian had no objection to its being either; +and he had only to consider which was temporarily most threatening to +the ridiculous System he had to support. Richard's absence annoyed him. +The youth was vivacious, and his enthusiasm good fun; and besides, when +he left table, Adrian had to sit alone with Hippias and the Eighteenth +Century, from both of whom he had extracted all the amusement that could +be got, and he saw his digestion menaced by the society of two ruined +stomachs, who bored him just when he loved himself most. Poor Hippias +was now so reduced that he had profoundly to calculate whether a +particular dish, or an extra-glass of wine, would have a bitter effect +on him and be felt through the remainder of his years. He was in the +habit of uttering his calculations half aloud, wherein the prophetic +doubts of experience, and the succulent insinuations of appetite, +contended hotly. It was horrible to hear him, so let us pardon Adrian +for tempting him to a decision in favour of the moment. + +"Happy to take wine with you," Adrian would say, and Hippias would +regard the decanter with a pained forehead, and put up the doctor. + +"Drink, nephew Hippy, and think of the doctor to-morrow!" the Eighteenth +Century cheerily ruffles her cap at him, and recommends her own +practice. + +"It's this literary work!" interjects Hippias, handling his glass of +remorse. "I don't know what else it can be. You have no idea how anxious +I feel. I have frightful dreams. I'm perpetually anxious." + +"No wonder," says Adrian, who enjoys the childish simplicity to which +an absorbed study of his sensational existence has brought poor Hippias. +"No wonder. Ten years of Fairy Mythology! Could anyone hope to sleep in +peace after that? As to your digestion, no one has a digestion who is in +the doctor's hands. They prescribe from dogmas, and don't count on the +system. They have cut you down from two bottles to two glasses. It's +absurd. You can't sleep, because your system is crying out for what it's +accustomed to." + +Hippias sips his Madeira with a niggerdly confidence, but assures Adrian +that he really should not like to venture on a bottle now: it would be +rank madness to venture on a bottle now, he thinks. Last night only, +after partaking, under protest, of that rich French dish, or was it the +duck?--Adrian advised him to throw the blame on that vulgar bird.--Say +the duck, then. Last night, he was no sooner stretched in bed, than he +seemed to be of an enormous size all his limbs--his nose, his mouth, +his toes--were elephantine! An elephant was a pigmy to him. And his +hugeousness seemed to increase the instant he shut his eyes. He turned +on this side; he turned on that. He lay on his back; he tried putting +his face to the pillow; and he continued to swell. He wondered the +room could hold him--he thought he must burst it--and absolutely lit a +candle, and went to the looking-glass to see whether he was bearable. + +By this time Adrian and Richard were laughing uncontrollably. He had, +however, a genial auditor in the Eighteenth Century, who declared it to +be a new disease, not known in her day, and deserving investigation. +She was happy to compare sensations with him, but hers were not of +the complex order, and a potion soon righted her. In fact, her system +appeared to be a debatable ground for aliment and medicine, on which +the battle was fought, and, when over, she was none the worse, as she +joyfully told Hippias. Never looked ploughman on prince, or village +belle on Court Beauty, with half the envy poor nineteenth-century +Hippias expended in his gaze on the Eighteenth. He was too serious to +note much the laughter of the young men. + +This 'Tragedy of a Cooking-Apparatus,' as Adrian designated the malady +of Hippias, was repeated regularly ever evening. It was natural for any +youth to escape as quick as he could from such a table of stomachs. + +Adrian bore with his conduct considerately, until a letter from the +baronet, describing the house and maternal System of a Mrs. Caroline +Grandison, and the rough grain of hopefulness in her youngest daughter, +spurred him to think of his duties, and see what was going on. He gave +Richard half-an-hour's start, and then put on his hat to follow his own +keen scent, leaving Hippias and the Eighteenth Century to piquet. + +In the lane near Belthorpe he met a maid of the farm not unknown to him, +one Molly Davenport by name, a buxom lass, who, on seeing him, invoked +her Good Gracious, the generic maid's familiar, and was instructed by +reminiscences vivid, if ancient, to giggle. + +"Are you looking for your young gentleman?" Molly presently asked. + +Adrian glanced about the lane like a cool brigand, to see if the coast +was clear, and replied to her, "I am, miss. I want you to tell me about +him." + +"Dear!" said the buxom lass, "was you coming for me to-night to know?" + +Adrian rebuked her: for her bad grammar, apparently. + +"'Cause I can't stop out long to-night," Molly explained, taking the +rebuke to refer altogether to her bad grammar. + +"You may go in when you please, miss. Is that any one coming? Come here +in the shade." + +"Now, get along!" said Miss Molly. + +Adrian spoke with resolution. "Listen to me, Molly Davenport!" He put +a coin in her hand, which had a medical effect in calming her to +attention. "I want to know whether you have seen him at all?" + +"Who? Your young gentleman? I sh'd think I did. I seen him to-night +only. Ain't he grooved handsome. He's al'ays about Beltharp now. It +ain't to fire no more ricks. He's afire 'unself. Ain't you seen 'em +together? He's after the missis"-- + +Adrian requested Miss Davenport to be respectful, and confine herself +to particulars. This buxom lass then told him that her young missis and +Adrian's young gentleman were a pretty couple, and met one another every +night. The girl swore for their innocence. + +"As for Miss Lucy, she haven't a bit of art in her, nor have he." + +"They're all nature, I suppose," said Adrian. "How is it I don't see her +at church?" + +"She's Catholic, or some think," said Molly. "Her father was, and a +leftenant. She've a Cross in her bedroom. She don't go to church. I see +you there last Sunday a-lookin' so solemn," and Molly stroked her hand +down her chin to give it length. + +Adrian insisted on her keeping to facts. It was dark, and in the dark he +was indifferent to the striking contrasts suggested by the lass, but +he wanted to hear facts, and he again bribed her to impart nothing +but facts. Upon which she told him further, that her young lady was an +innocent artless creature who had been to school upwards of three years +with the nuns, and had a little money of her own, and was beautiful +enough to be a lord's lady, and had been in love with Master Richard +ever since she was a little girl. Molly had got from a friend of hers +up at the Abbey, Mary Garner, the housemaid who cleaned Master Richard's +room, a bit of paper once with the young gentleman's handwriting, +and had given it to her Miss Lucy, and Miss Lucy had given her a gold +sovereign for it--just for his handwriting! Miss Lucy did not seem happy +at the farm, because of that young Tom, who was always leering at her, +and to be sure she was quite a lady, and could play, and sing, and dress +with the best. + +"She looks like angels in her nightgown!" Molly wound up. + +The next moment she ran up close, and speaking for the first time as +if there were a distinction of position between them, petitioned: "Mr. +Harley! you won't go for doin' any harm to 'em 'cause of what I said, +will you now? Do say you won't now, Mr. Harley! She is good, though +she's a Catholic. She was kind to me when I was ill, and I wouldn't have +her crossed--I'd rather be showed up myself, I would!" + +The wise youth gave no positive promise to Molly, and she had to read +his consent in a relaxation of his austerity. The noise of a lumbering +foot plodding down the lane caused her to be abruptly dismissed. +Molly took to flight, the lumbering foot accelerated its pace, and the +pastoral appeal to her flying skirts was heard--"Moll! you theyre! It be +I--Bantam!" But the sprightly Silvia would not stop to his wooing, and +Adrian turned away laughing at these Arcadians. + +Adrian was a lazy dragon. All he did for the present was to hint and +tease. "It's the Inevitable!" he said, and asked himself why he should +seek to arrest it. He had no faith in the System. Heavy Benson had. +Benson of the slow thick-lidded antediluvian eye and loose-crumpled +skin; Benson, the Saurian, the woman-hater; Benson was wide awake. A +sort of rivalry existed between the wise youth and heavy Benson. The +fidelity of the latter dependant had moved the baronet to commit to him +a portion of the management of the Raynham estate, and this Adrian did +not like. No one who aspires to the honourable office of leading +another by the nose can tolerate a party in his ambition. Benson's surly +instinct told him he was in the wise youth's way, and he resolved to +give his master a striking proof of his superior faithfulness. For some +weeks the Saurian eye had been on the two secret creatures. Heavy Benson +saw letters come and go in the day, and now the young gentleman was off +and out every night, and seemed to be on wings. Benson knew whither he +went, and the object he went for. It was a woman--that was enough. The +Saurian eye had actually seen the sinful thing lure the hope of Raynham +into the shades. He composed several epistles of warning to the baronet +of the work that was going on; but before sending one he wished to +record a little of their guilty conversation; and for this purpose the +faithful fellow trotted over the dews to eavesdrop, and thereby aroused +the good fairy, in the person of Tom Bakewell, the sole confidant of +Richard's state. + +Tom said to his young master, "Do you know what, sir? You be watched!" + +Richard, in a fury, bade him name the wretch, and Tom hung his arms, and +aped the respectable protrusion of the butler's head. + +"It's he, is it?" cried Richard. "He shall rue it, Tom. If I find him +near me when we're together he shall never forget it." + +"Don't hit too hard, sir," Tom suggested. "You hit mortal hard when +you're in earnest, you know." + +Richard averred he would forgive anything but that, and told Tom to +be within hail to-morrow night--he knew where. By the hour of the +appointment it was out of the lover's mind. + +Lady Blandish dined that evening at Raynham, by Adrian's pointed +invitation. According to custom, Richard started up and off, with +few excuses. The lady exhibited no surprise. She and Adrian likewise +strolled forth to enjoy the air of the Summer night. They had no +intention of spying. Still they may have thought, by meeting Richard and +his inamorata, there was a chance of laying a foundation of ridicule +to sap the passion. They may have thought so--they were on no spoken +understanding. + +"I have seen the little girl," said Lady Blandish. "She is pretty--she +would be telling if she were well set up. She speaks well. How absurd it +is of that class to educate their women above their station! The child +is really too good for a farmer. I noticed her before I knew of this; +she has enviable hair. I suppose she doesn't paint her eyelids. Just the +sort of person to take a young man. I thought there was something wrong. +I received, the day before yesterday, an impassioned poem evidently not +intended for me. My hair was gold. My meeting him was foretold. My eyes +were homes of light fringed with night. I sent it back, correcting the +colours." + +"Which was death to the rhymes," said Adrian. "I saw her this morning. +The boy hasn't bad taste. As you say, she is too good for a farmer. Such +a spark would explode any System. She slightly affected mine. The Huron +is stark mad about her." + +"But we must positively write and tell his father," said Lady Blandish. + +The wise youth did not see why they should exaggerate a trifle. The lady +said she would have an interview with Richard, and then write, as it was +her duty to do. Adrian shrugged, and was for going into the scientific +explanation of Richard's conduct, in which the lady had to discourage +him. + +"Poor boy!" she sighed. "I am really sorry for him. I hope he will not +feel it too strongly. They feel strongly, father and son." + +"And select wisely," Adrian added. + +"That's another thing," said Lady Blandish. + +Their talk was then of the dulness of neighbouring county people, about +whom, it seemed, there was little or no scandal afloat: of the lady's +loss of the season in town, which she professed not to regret, though +she complained of her general weariness: of whether Mr. Morton of Poer +Hall would propose to Mrs. Doria, and of the probable despair of the +hapless curate of Lobourne; and other gossip, partly in French. + +They rounded the lake, and got upon the road through the park to +Lobourne. The moon had risen. The atmosphere was warm and pleasant. + +"Quite a lover's night," said Lady Blandish. + +"And I, who have none to love pity me!" The wise youth attempted a sigh. + +"And never will have," said Lady Blandish, curtly. "You buy your loves." + +Adrian protested. However, he did not plead verbally against the +impeachment, though the lady's decisive insight astonished him. He began +to respect her, relishing her exquisite contempt, and he reflected that +widows could be terrible creatures. + +He had hoped to be a little sentimental with Lady Blandish, knowing her +romantic. This mixture of the harshest common sense and an air of "I +know you men," with romance and refined temperament, subdued the wise +youth more than a positive accusation supported by witnesses would have +done. He looked at the lady. Her face was raised to the moon. She knew +nothing--she had simply spoken from the fulness of her human knowledge, +and had forgotten her words. Perhaps, after all, her admiration, or +whatever feeling it was, for the baronet, was sincere, and really the +longing for a virtuous man. Perhaps she had tried the opposite set +pretty much. Adrian shrugged. Whenever the wise youth encountered +a mental difficulty he instinctively lifted his shoulders to equal +altitudes, to show that he had no doubt there was a balance in the +case--plenty to be said on both sides, which was the same to him as a +definite solution. + +At their tryst in the wood, abutting on Raynham Park, wrapped in +themselves, piped to by tireless Love, Richard and Lucy sat, toying with +eternal moments. How they seem as if they would never end! What mere +sparks they are when they have died out! And how in the distance of time +they revive, and extend, and glow, and make us think them full the half, +and the best of the fire, of our lives! + +With the onward flow of intimacy, the two happy lovers ceased to be so +shy of common themes, and their speech did not reject all as dross that +was not pure gold of emotion. + +Lucy was very inquisitive about everything and everybody at Raynham. +Whoever had been about Richard since his birth, she must know the +history of, and he for a kiss will do her bidding. + +Thus goes the tender duet: + +"You should know my cousin Austin, Lucy.--Darling! Beloved!" + +"My own! Richard!" + +"You should know my cousin Austin. You shall know him. He would take to +you best of them all, and you to him. He is in the tropics now, looking +out a place--it's a secret--for poor English working-men to emigrate to +and found a colony in that part of the world:--my white angel!" + +"Dear love!" + +"He is such a noble fellow! Nobody here understands him but me. Isn't +it strange? Since I met you I love him better! That's because I love all +that's good and noble better now--Beautiful! I love--I love you!" + +"My Richard!" + +"What do you think I've determined, Lucy? If my father--but no! my +father does love me.--No! he will not; and we will be happy together +here. And I will win my way with you. And whatever I win will be +yours; for it will be owing to you. I feel as if I had no strength but +yours--none! and you make me--O Lucy!" + +His voice ebbs. Presently Lucy murmurs-- + +"Your father, Richard." + +"Yes, my father?" + +"Dearest Richard! I feel so afraid of him." + +"He loves me, and will love you, Lucy." + +"But I am so poor and humble, Richard." + +"No one I have ever seen is like you, Lucy." + +"You think so, because you"-- + +"What?" + +"Love me," comes the blushing whisper, and the duet gives place to dumb +variations, performed equally in concert. + +It is resumed. + +"You are fond of the knights, Lucy. Austin is as brave as any of +them.--My own bride! Oh, how I adore you! When you are gone, I could +fall upon the grass you tread upon, and kiss it. My breast feels empty +of my heart--Lucy! if we lived in those days, I should have been a +knight, and have won honour and glory for you. Oh! one can do nothing +now. My lady-love! My lady-love!--A tear?--Lucy?" + +"Dearest! Ah, Richard! I am not a lady." + +"Who dares say that? Not a lady--the angel I love!" + +"Think, Richard, who I am." + +"My beautiful! I think that God made you, and has given you to me." + +Her eyes fill with tears, and, as she lifts them heavenward to thank her +God, the light of heaven strikes on them, and she is so radiant in her +pure beauty that the limbs of the young man tremble. + +"Lucy! O heavenly spirit! Lucy!" + +Tenderly her lips part--"I do not weep for sorrow." + +The big bright drops lighten, and roll down, imaged in his soul. + +They lean together--shadows of ineffable tenderness playing on their +thrilled cheeks and brows. + +He lifts her hand, and presses his mouth to it. She has seen little of +mankind, but her soul tells her this one is different from others, and +at the thought, in her great joy, tears must come fast, or her heart +will break--tears of boundless thanksgiving. And he, gazing on those +soft, ray-illumined, dark-edged eyes, and the grace of her loose falling +tresses, feels a scarce-sufferable holy fire streaming through his +members. + +It is long ere they speak in open tones. + +"O happy day when we met!" + +What says the voice of one, the soul of the other echoes. + +"O glorious heaven looking down on us!" + +Their souls are joined, are made one for evermore beneath that bending +benediction. + +"O eternity of bliss!" + +Then the diviner mood passes, and they drop to earth. + +"Lucy! come with me to-night, and look at the place where you are some +day to live. Come, and I will row you on the lake. You remember what +you said in your letter that you dreamt?--that we were floating over +the shadow of the Abbey to the nuns at work by torchlight felling the +cypress, and they handed us each a sprig. Why, darling, it was the +best omen in the world, their felling the old trees. And you write such +lovely letters. So pure and sweet they are. I love the nuns for having +taught you." + +"Ah, Richard! See! we forget! Ah!" she lifts up her face pleadingly, +as to plead against herself, "even if your father forgives my birth, he +will not my religion. And, dearest, though I would die for you I cannot +change it. It would seem that I was denying God; and--oh! it would make +me ashamed of my love." + +"Fear nothing!" He winds her about with his arm. "Come! He will love us +both, and love you the more for being faithful to your father's creed. +You don't know him, Lucy. He seems harsh and stern--he is full of +kindness and love. He isn't at all a bigot. And besides, when he hears +what the nuns have done for you, won't he thank them, as I do? And--oh! +I must speak to him soon, and you must be prepared to see him soon, for +I cannot bear your remaining at Belthorpe, like a jewel in a sty. Mind! +I'm not saying a word against your uncle. I declare I love everybody and +everything that sees you and touches you. Stay! it is a wonder how you +could have grown there. But you were not born there, and your father +had good blood. Desborough!--here was a Colonel Desborough--never mind! +Come!" + +She dreads to. She begs not to. She is drawn away. + +The woods are silent, and then-- + +"What think you of that for a pretty pastoral?" says a very different +voice. + +Adrian reclined against a pine overlooking the fern-covert. Lady +Blandish was recumbent upon the brown pine-droppings, gazing through +a vista of the lower greenwood which opened out upon the moon-lighted +valley, her hands clasped round one knee, her features almost stern in +their set hard expression. + +They had heard, by involuntarily overhearing about as much as may be +heard in such positions, a luminous word or two. + +The lady did not answer. A movement among the ferns attracted Adrian, +and he stepped down the decline across the pine-roots to behold heavy +Benson below; shaking fern-seed and spidery substances off his crumpled +skin. + +"Is that you, Mr. Hadrian?" called Benson, starting, as he puffed, and +exercised his handkerchief. + +"Is it you, Benson, who have had the audacity to spy upon these +Mysteries?" Adrian called back, and coming close to him, added, "You +look as if you had just been well thrashed." + +"Isn't it dreadful, sir?" snuffled Benson. "And his father in ignorance, +Mr. Hadrian!" + +"He shall know, Benson! He shall know how, you have endangered your +valuable skin in his service. If Mr. Richard had found you there just +now I wouldn't answer for the consequences." + +"Ha!" Benson spitefully retorted. "This won't go on; Mr. Hadrian. +It shan't, sir. It will be put a stop to tomorrow, sir. I call it +corruption of a young gentleman like him, and harlotry, sir, I call it. +I'd have every jade flogged that made a young innocent gentleman go on +like that, sir." + +"Then, why didn't you stop it yourself, Benson? Ah, I see! you +waited--what? This is not the first time you have been attendant on +Apollo and Miss Dryope? You have written to headquarters?" + +"I did my duty, Mr. Hadrian." + +The wise youth returned to Lady Blandish, and informed her of Benson's +zeal. The lady's eyes flashed. "I hope Richard will treat him as he +deserves," she said. + +"Shall we home?" Adrian inquired. + +"Do me a favour;" the lady replied. "Get my carriage sent round to meet +me at the park-gates." + +"Won't you?"-- + +"I want to be alone." + +Adrian bowed and left her. She was still sitting with her hands clasped +round one knee, gazing towards the dim ray-strewn valley. + +"An odd creature!" muttered the wise youth. "She's as odd as any of +them. She ought to be a Feverel. I suppose she's graduating for it. Hang +that confounded old ass of a Benson! He has had the impudence to steal a +march on me!" + +The shadow of the cypress was lessening on the lake. The moon was +climbing high. As Richard rowed the boat, Lucy, sang to him softly. She +sang first a fresh little French song, reminding him of a day when she +had been asked to sing to him before, and he did not care to hear. "Did +I live?" he thinks. Then she sang to him a bit of one of those majestic +old Gregorian chants, that, wherever you may hear them, seem to build up +cathedral walls about you. The young man dropped the sculls. The strange +solemn notes gave a religions tone to his love, and wafted him into the +knightly ages and the reverential heart of chivalry. + +Hanging between two heavens on the lake: floating to her voice: the moon +stepping over and through white shoal's of soft high clouds above and +below: floating to her void--no other breath abroad! His soul went out +of his body as he listened. + +They must part. He rows her gently shoreward. + +"I never was so happy as to-night," she murmurs. + +"Look, my Lucy. The lights of the old place are on the lake. Look where +you are to live." + +"Which is your room, Richard?" + +He points it out to her. + +"O Richard! that I were one of the women who wait on you! I should ask +nothing more. How happy she must be!" + +"My darling angel-love. You shall be happy; but all shall wait on you, +and I foremost, Lucy." + +"Dearest! may I hope for a letter?" + +"By eleven to-morrow. And I?" + +"Oh! you will have mine, Richard." + +"Tom shall wait far it. A long one, mind! Did you like my last song?" + +She pats her hand quietly against her bosom, and he knows where it +rests. O love! O heaven! + +They are aroused by the harsh grating of the bow of the boat against the +shingle. He jumps out, and lifts her ashore. + +"See!" she says, as the blush of his embrace subsides--"See!" and +prettily she mimics awe and feels it a little, "the cypress does point +towards us. O Richard! it does!" + +And he, looking at her rather than at the cypress, delighting in her +arch grave ways-- + +"Why, there's hardly any shadow at all, Lucy. She mustn't dream, my +darling! or dream only of me." + +"Dearest! but I do." + +"To-morrow, Lucy! The letter in the morning, and you at night. O happy +to-morrow!" + +"You will be sure to be there, Richard?" + +"If I am not dead, Lucy." + +"O Richard! pray, pray do not speak of that. I shall not survive you." + +"Let us pray, Lucy, to die together, when we are to die. Death or life, +with you! Who is it yonder? I see some one--is it Tom? It's Adrian!" + +"Is it Mr. Harley?" The fair girl shivered. + +"How dares he come here!" cried Richard. + +The figure of Adrian, instead of advancing, discreetly circled the lake. +They were stealing away when he called. His call was repeated. Lucy +entreated Richard to go to him; but the young man preferred to summon +his attendant, Tom, from within hail, and send him to know what was +wanted. + +"Will he have seen me? Will he have known me?" whispered Lucy, +tremulously. + +"And if he does, love?" said Richard. + +"Oh! if he does, dearest--I don't know, but I feel such a presentiment. +You have not spoken of him to-night, Richard. Is he good?" + +"Good?" Richard clutched her hand for the innocent maiden phrase. "He's +very fond of eating; that's all I know of Adrian." + +Her hand was at his lips when Tom returned. + +"Well, Tom?" + +"Mr. Adrian wishes particular to speak to you, sir," said Tom. + +"Do go to him, dearest! Do go!" Lucy begs him. + +"Oh, how I hate Adrian!" The young man grinds his teeth. + +"Do go!" Lucy urges him. "Tom--good Tom--will see me home. To-morrow, +dear love! To-morrow!" + +"You wish to part from me?" + +"Oh, unkind! but you must not come with me now. It may be news of +importance, dearest. Think, Richard!" + +"Tom! go back!" + +At the imperious command the well-drilled Tom strides off a dozen paces, +and sees nothing. Then the precious charge is confided to him. A heart +is cut in twain. + +Richard made his way to Adrian. "What is it you want with me, Adrian?" + +"Are we seconds, or principals, O fiery one?" was Adrian's answer. "I +want nothing with you, except to know whether you have seen Benson." + +"Where should I see Benson? What do I know of Benson's doings?" + +"Of course not--such a secret old fist as he is! I want some one to +tell him to order Lady Blandish's carriage to be sent round to the +park-gates. I thought he might be round your way over there--I came upon +him accidentally just now in Abbey-wood. What's the matter, boy?" + +"You saw him there?" + +"Hunting Diana, I suppose. He thinks she's not so chaste as they say," +continued Adrian. "Are you going to knock down that tree?" + +Richard had turned to the cypress, and was tugging at the tough wood. He +left it and went to an ash. + +"You'll spoil that weeper," Adrian cried. "Down she comes! But +good-night, Ricky. If you see Benson mind you tell him." + +Doomed Benson following his burly shadow hove in sight on the white road +while Adrian spoke. The wise youth chuckled and strolled round the lake, +glancing over his shoulder every now and then. + +It was not long before he heard a bellow for help--the roar of a dragon +in his throes. Adrian placidly sat down on the grass, and fixed his +eyes on the water. There, as the roar was being repeated amid horrid +resounding echoes, the wise youth mused in this wise-- + +"'The Fates are Jews with us when they delay a punishment,' says The +Pilgrim's Scrip, or words to that effect. The heavens evidently love +Benson, seeing that he gets his punishment on the spot. Master Ricky is +a peppery young man. He gets it from the apt Gruffudh. I rather believe +in race. What a noise that old ruffian makes! He'll require poulticing +with The Pilgrim's Scrip. We shall have a message to-morrow, and a +hubbub, and perhaps all go to town, which won't be bad for one who's +been a prey to all the desires born of dulness. Benson howls: there's +life in the old dog yet! He bays the moon. Look at her. She doesn't +care. It's the same to her whether we coo like turtle-doves or roar like +twenty lions. How complacent she looks! And yet she has dust as much +sympathy for Benson as for Cupid. She would smile on if both were +being birched. Was that a raven or Benson? He howls no more. It sounds +guttural: frog-like--something between the brek-kek-kek and the hoarse +raven's croak. The fellow'll be killing him. It's time to go to the +rescue. A deliverer gets more honour by coming in at the last gasp than +if he forestalled catastrophe.--Ho, there, what's the matter?" + +So saying, the wise youth rose, and leisurely trotted to the scene of +battle, where stood St. George puffing over the prostrate Dragon. + +"Holloa, Ricky! is it you?" said Adrian. "What's this? Whom have we +here?--Benson, as I live!" + +"Make this beast get up," Richard returned, breathing hard, and shaking +his great ash-branch. + +"He seems incapable, my dear boy. What have you been up to?--Benson! +Benson!--I say, Ricky, this looks bad." + +"He's shamming!" Richard clamoured like a savage. "Spy upon me, will he? +I tell you, he's shamming. He hasn't had half enough. Nothing's too bad +for a spy. Let him getup!" + +"Insatiate youth! do throw away that enormous weapon." + +"He has written to my father," Richard shouted. "The miserable spy! Let +him get up!" + +"Ooogh? I won't!" huskily groaned Benson. "Mr. Hadrian, you're a +witness--he's my back!"--Cavernous noises took up the tale of his +maltreatment. + +"I daresay you love your back better than any part of your body now," +Adrian muttered. "Come, Benson! be a man. Mr. Richard has thrown away +the stick. Come, and get off home, and let's see the extent of the +damage." + +"Ooogh! he's a devil! Mr. Hadrian, sir, he's a devil!" groaned Benson, +turning half over in the road to ease his aches. + +Adrian caught hold of Benson's collar and lifted him to a sitting +posture. He then had a glimpse of what his hopeful pupil's hand could +do in wrath. The wretched butler's coat was slit and welted; his hat +knocked in; his flabby spirit so broken that he started and trembled +if his pitiless executioner stirred a foot. Richard stood over him, +grasping his great stick; no dawn of mercy for Benson in any corner of +his features. + +Benson screwed his neck round to look up at him, and immediately gasped, +"I won't get up! I won't! He's ready to murder me again!--Mr. Hadrian! +if you stand by and see it, you're liable to the law, sir--I won't get +up while he's near." No persuasion could induce Benson to try his legs +while his executioner stood by. + +Adrian took Richard aside: "You've almost killed the poor devil, Ricky. +You must be satisfied with that. Look at his face." + +"The coward bobbed while I struck" said Richard. "I marked his back. He +ducked. I told him he was getting it worse." + +At so civilized piece of savagery, Adrian opened his mouth wide. + +"Did you really? I admire that. You told him he was getting it worse?" + +Adrian opened his mouth again to shake another roll of laughter out. + +"Come," he said, "Excalibur has done his word. Pitch him into the lake. +And see--here comes the Blandish. You can't be at it again before +a woman. Go and meet her, and tell her the noise was an ox being +slaughtered. Or say Argus." + +With a whirr that made all Benson's bruises moan and quiver, the great +ash-branch shot aloft, and Richard swung off to intercept Lady Blandish. + +Adrian got Benson on his feet. The heavy butler was disposed to summon +all the commiseration he could feel for his bruised flesh. Every +half-step he attempted was like a dislocation. His groans and grunts +were frightful. + +"How much did that hat cost, Benson?" said Adrian, as he put it on his +head. + +"A five-and-twenty shilling beaver, Mr. Hadrian!" Benson caressed its +injuries. + +"The cheapest policy of insurance I remember to have heard of!" said +Adrian. + +Benson staggered, moaning at intervals to his cruel comforter. + +"He's a devil, Mr. Hadrian! He's a devil, sir, I do believe, sir. Ooogh! +he's a devil!--I can't move, Mr. Hadrian. I must be fetched. And Dr. +Clifford must be sent for, sir. I shall never be fit for work again. I +haven't a sound bone in my body, Mr. Hadrian." + +"You see, Benson, this comes of your declaring war upon Venus. I hope +the maids will nurse you properly. Let me see: you are friends with the +housekeeper, aren't you? All depends upon that." + +"I'm only a faithful servant, Mr. Hadrian," the miserable butler +snarled. + +"Then you've got no friend but your bed. Get to it as quick as possible, +Benson." + +"I can't move." Benson made a resolute halt. "I must be fetched," he +whinnied. "It's a shame to ask me to move, Mr. Hadrian." + +"You will admit that you are heavy, Benson," said Adrian, "so I can't +carry you. However, I see Mr. Richard is very kindly returning to help +me." + +At these words heavy Benson instantly found his legs, and shambled on. + +Lady Blandish met Richard in dismay. + +"I have been horribly frightened," she said. "Tell me, what was the +meaning of those cries I heard?" + +"Only some one doing justice on a spy," said Richard, and the lady +smiled, and looked on him fondly, and put her hand through his hair. + +"Was that all? I should have done it myself if I had been a man. Kiss +me." + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +By twelve o'clock at noon next day the inhabitants of Raynham Abbey knew +that Berry, the baronet's man, had arrived post-haste from town, with +orders to conduct Mr. Richard thither, and that Mr. Richard had refused +to go, had sworn he would not, defied his father, and despatched Berry +to the Shades. Berry was all that Benson was not. Whereas Benson hated +woman, Berry admired her warmly. Second to his own stately person, +woman occupied his reflections, and commanded his homage. Berry was of +majestic port, and used dictionary words. Among the maids of Raynham +his conscious calves produced all the discord and the frenzy those +adornments seem destined to create in tender bosoms. He had, moreover, +the reputation of having suffered for the sex; which assisted his object +in inducing the sex to suffer for him. What with his calves, and +his dictionary words, and the attractive halo of the mysterious +vindictiveness of Venus surrounding him, this Adonis of the lower +household was a mighty man below, and he moved as one. + +On hearing the tumult that followed Berry's arrival, Adrian sent for +him, and was informed of the nature of his mission, and its result. + +"You should come to me first," said Adrian. "I should have imagined you +were shrewd enough for that, Berry?" + +"Pardon me, Mr. Adrian," Berry doubled his elbow to explain. "Pardon me, +sir. Acting recipient of special injunctions I was not a free agent." + +"Go to Mr. Richard again, Berry. There will be a little confusion if he +holds back. Perhaps you had better throw out a hint or so of apoplexy. +A slight hint will do. And here--Berry! when you return to town, you +had better not mention anything--to quote Johnson--of Benson's +spiflication." + +"Certainly not, sir." + +The wise youth's hint had the desired effect on Richard. + +He dashed off a hasty letter by Tom to Belthorpe, and, mounting his +horse, galloped to the Bellingham station. + +Sir Austin was sitting down to a quiet early dinner at his hotel, when +the Hope of Raynham burst into his room. + +The baronet was not angry with his son. On the contrary, for he was +singularly just and self-accusing while pride was not up in arms, he had +been thinking all day after the receipt of Benson's letter that he +was deficient in cordiality, and did not, by reason of his excessive +anxiety, make himself sufficiently his son's companion: was not enough, +as he strove to be, mother and father to him; preceptor and friend; +previsor and associate. He had not to ask his conscience where he had +lately been to blame towards the System. He had slunk away from Raynham +in the very crisis of the Magnetic Age, and this young woman of +the parish (as Benson had termed sweet Lucy in his letter) was the +consequence. + +Yes! pride and sensitiveness were his chief foes, and he would trample +on them. To begin, he embraced his son: hard upon an Englishman at any +time--doubly so to one so shamefaced at emotion in cool blood, as it +were. It gave him a strange pleasure, nevertheless. And the youth +seemed to answer to it; he was excited. Was his love, then, beginning +to correspond with his father's as in those intimate days before the +Blossoming Season? + +But when Richard, inarticulate at first in his haste, cried out, "My +dear, dear father! You are safe! I feared--You are better, sir? Thank +God!" Sir Austin stood away from him. + +"Safe?" he said. "What has alarmed you?" + +Instead of replying, Richard dropped into a chair, and seized his hand +and kissed it. + +Sir Austin took a seat, and waited for his son to explain. + +"Those doctors are such fools!" Richard broke out. "I was sure they were +wrong. They don't know headache from apoplexy. It's worth the ride, sir, +to see you. You left Raynham so suddenly.--But you are well! It was not +an attack of real apoplexy?" + +His father's brows contorted, and he said, No, it was not. Richard +pursued: + +"If you were ill, I couldn't come too soon, though, if coroners' +inquests sat on horses, those doctors would be found guilty of +mare-slaughter. Cassandra'll be knocked up. I was too early for the +train at Bellingham, and I wouldn't wait. She did the distance in four +hours and three-quarters. Pretty good, sir, wasn't it?" + +"It has given you appetite for dinner, I hope," said the baronet, not so +well pleased to find that it was not simple obedience that had brought +the youth to him in such haste. + +"I'm ready," replied Richard. "I shall be in time to return by the last +train to-night. I will leave Cassandra in your charge for a rest." + +His father quietly helped him to soup, which he commenced gobbling with +an eagerness that might pass for appetite. + +"All well at Raynham?" said the baronet. + +"Quite, sir." + +"Nothing new?" + +"Nothing, sir." + +"The same as when I left?" + +"No change whatever!" + +"I shall be glad to get back to the old place," said the baronet. "My +stay in town has certainly been profitable. I have made some pleasant +acquaintances who may probably favour us with a visit there in the late +autumn--people you may be pleased to know. They are very anxious to see +Raynham." + +"I love the old place," cried Richard. "I never wish to leave it." + +"Why, boy, before I left you were constantly begging to see town." + +"Was I, sir? How odd! Well! I don't want to remain here. I've seen +enough of it." + +"How did you find your way to me?" + +Richard laughed, and related his bewilderment at the miles of brick, and +the noise, and the troops of people, concluding, "There's no place like +home!" + +The baronet watched his symptomatic brilliant eyes, and favoured him +with a double-dealing sentence-- + +"To anchor the heart by any object ere we have half traversed the world, +is youth's foolishness, my son. Reverence time! A better maxim that than +your Horatian." + +"He knows all!" thought Richard, and instantly drew away leagues from +his father, and threw up fortifications round his love and himself. + +Dinner over, Richard looked hurriedly at his watch, and said, with much +briskness, "I shall just be in time, sir, if we walk. Will you come with +me to the station?" + +The baronet did not answer. + +Richard was going to repeat the question, but found his father's eyes +fixed on him so meaningly that he wavered, and played with his empty +glass. + +"I think we will have a little more claret," said the baronet. + +Claret was brought, and they were left alone. + +The baronet then drew within arm's-reach of his son, and began: + +"I am not aware what you may have thought of me, Richard, during the +years we have lived together; and indeed I have never been in a hurry +to be known to you; and, if I had died before my work was done, I should +not have complained at losing half my reward, in hearing you thank me. +Perhaps, as it is, I never may. Everything, save selfishness, has its +recompense. I shall be content if you prosper." + +He fetched a breath and continued: "You had in your infancy a great +loss." Father and son coloured simultaneously. "To make that good to you +I chose to isolate myself from the world, and devote myself entirely to +your welfare; and I think it is not vanity that tells me now that the +son I have reared is one of the most hopeful of God's creatures. But for +that very reason you are open to be tempted the most, and to sink the +deepest. It was the first of the angels who made the road to hell." + +He paused again. Richard fingered at his watch. + +"In our House, my son, there is peculiar blood. We go to wreck very +easily. It sounds like superstition; I cannot but think we are tried as +most men are not. I see it in us all. And you, my son, are compounded of +two races. Your passions are violent. You have had a taste of revenge. +You have seen, in a small way, that the pound of flesh draws rivers of +blood. But there is now in you another power. You are mounting to the +table-land of life, where mimic battles are changed to real ones. And +you come upon it laden equally with force to create and to destroy." He +deliberated to announce the intelligence, with deep meaning: "There are +women in the world, my son!" + +The young man's heart galloped back to Raynham. + +"It is when you encounter them that you are thoroughly on trial. It is +when you know them that life is either a mockery to you, or, as some +find it, a gift of blessedness. They are our ordeal. Love of any human +object is the soul's ordeal; and they are ours, loving them, or not." + +The young man heard the whistle of the train. He saw the moon-lighted +wood, and the vision of his beloved. He could barely hold himself down +and listen. + +"I believe," the baronet spoke with little of the cheerfulness of +belief, "good women exist." + +Oh, if he knew Lucy! + +"But," and he gazed on Richard intently, "it is given to very few to +meet them on the threshold--I may say, to none. We find them after hard +buffeting, and usually, when we find the one fitted for us, our madness +has misshaped our destiny, our lot is cast. For women are not the +end, but the means, of life. In youth we think them the former, and +thousands, who have not even the excuse of youth, select a mate--or +worse--with that sole view. I believe women punish us for so perverting +their uses. They punish Society." + +The baronet put his hand to his brow as his mind travelled into +consequences. + +'Our most diligent pupil learns not so much as an earnest teacher,' says +The Pilgrim's Scrip; and Sir Austin, in schooling himself to speak with +moderation of women, was beginning to get a glimpse of their side of the +case. + +Cold Blood now touched on love to Hot Blood. + +Cold Blood said, "It is a passion coming in the order of nature, the +ripe fruit of our animal being." + +Hot Blood felt: "It is a divinity! All that is worth living for in the +world." + +Cold Blood said: "It is a fever which tests our strength, and too often +leads to perdition." + +Hot Blood felt: "Lead whither it will, I follow it." + +Cold Blood said: "It is a name men and women are much in the habit of +employing to sanctify their appetites." + +Hot Blood felt: "It is worship; religion; life!" + +And so the two parallel lines ran on. + +The baronet became more personal: + +"You know my love for you, my son. The extent of it you cannot know; +but you must know that it is something very deep, and--I do not wish to +speak of it--but a father must sometimes petition for gratitude, since +the only true expression of it is his son's moral good. If you care for +my love, or love me in return, aid me with all your energies to keep you +what I have made you, and guard you from the snares besetting you. It +was in my hands once. It is ceasing to be so. Remember, my son, what my +love is. It is different, I fear, with most fathers: but I am bound up +in your welfare: what you do affects me vitally. You will take no step +that is not intimate with my happiness, or my misery. And I have had +great disappointments, my son." + +So far it was well. Richard loved his father, and even in his frenzied +state he could not without emotion hear him thus speak. + +Unhappily, the baronet, who by some fatality never could see when he was +winning the battle, thought proper in his wisdom to water the dryness +of his sermon with a little jocoseness, on the subject of young +men fancying themselves in love, and, when they were raw and green, +absolutely wanting to be--that most awful thing, which the wisest and +strongest of men undertake in hesitation and after self-mortification +and penance--married! He sketched the Foolish Young Fellow--the object +of general ridicule and covert contempt. He sketched the Woman--the +strange thing made in our image, and with all our faculties--passing to +the rule of one who in taking her proved that he could not rule himself, +and had no knowledge of her save as a choice morsel which he would burn +the whole world, and himself in the bargain, to possess. He harped upon +the Foolish Young Fellow, till the foolish young fellow felt his skin +tingle and was half suffocated with shame and rage. + +After this, the baronet might be as wise as he pleased: he had quite +undone his work. He might analyze Love and anatomize Woman. He might +accord to her her due position, and paint her fair: he might be shrewd, +jocose, gentle, pathetic, wonderfully wise: he spoke to deaf ears. + +Closing his sermon with the question, softly uttered: "Have you anything +to tell me, Richard?" and hoping for a confession, and a thorough +re-establishment of confidence, the callous answer struck him cold: "I +have not." + +The baronet relapsed in his chair, and made diagrams of his fingers. + +Richard turned his back on further dialogue by going to the window. In +the section of sky over the street twinkled two or three stars; shining +faintly, feeling the moon. The moon was rising: the woods were lifting +up to her: his star of the woods would be there. A bed of moss set about +flowers in a basket under him breathed to his nostril of the woodland +keenly, and filled him with delirious longing. + +A succession of hard sighs brought his father's hand on his shoulder. + +"You have nothing you could say to me, my son? Tell me, Richard! +Remember, there is no home for the soul where dwells a shadow of +untruth!" + +"Nothing at all, sir," the young man replied, meeting him with the full +orbs of his eyes. + +The baronet withdrew his hand, and paced the room. + +At last it grew impossible for Richard to control his impatience, and he +said: "Do you intend me to stay here, sir? Am I not to return to Raynham +at all to-night?" + +His father was again falsely jocular: + +"What? and catch the train after giving it ten minutes' start?" + +"Cassandra will take me," said the young man earnestly. "I needn't ride +her hard, sir. Or perhaps you would lend me your Winkelried? I should be +down with him in little better than three hours." + +"Even then, you know, the park-gates would be locked." + +"Well, I could stable him in the village. Dowling knows the horse, and +would treat him properly. May I have him, sir?" + +The cloud cleared off Richard's face as he asked. At least, if he +missed his love that night he would be near her, breathing the same +air, marking what star was above her bedchamber, hearing the hushed +night-talk of the trees about her dwelling: looking on the distances +that were like hope half fulfilled and a bodily presence bright as +Hesper, since he knew her. There were two swallows under the eaves +shadowing Lucy's chamber-windows: two swallows, mates in one nest, +blissful birds, who twittered and cheep-cheeped to the sole-lying beauty +in her bed. Around these birds the lover's heart revolved, he knew not +why. He associated them with all his close-veiled dreams of happiness. +Seldom a morning passed when he did not watch them leave the nest on +their breakfast-flight, busy in the happy stillness of dawn. It seemed +to him now that if he could be at Raynham to see them in to-morrow's +dawn he would be compensated for his incalculable loss of to-night: he +would forgive and love his father, London, the life, the world. Just +to see those purple backs and white breasts flash out into the quiet +morning air! He wanted no more. + +The baronet's trifling had placed this enormous boon within the young +man's visionary grasp. + +He still went on trying the boy's temper. + +"You know there would be nobody ready for you at Raynham. It is unfair +to disturb the maids." + +Richard overrode every objection. + +"Well, then, my son," said the baronet, preserving his half-jocular air, +"I must tell you that it is my wish to have you in town." + +"Then you have not been ill at all, sir!" cried Richard, as in his +despair he seized the whole plot. + +"I have been as well as you could have desired me to be," said his +father. + +"Why did they lie to me?" the young man wrathfully exclaimed. + +"I think, Richard, you can best answer that," rejoined Sir Austin, +kindly severe. + +Dread of being signalized as the Foolish Young Fellow prevented Richard +from expostulating further. Sir Austin saw him grinding his passion +into powder for future explosion, and thought it best to leave him for +awhile. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +For three weeks Richard had to remain in town and endure the teachings +of the System in a new atmosphere. He had to sit and listen to men of +science who came to renew their intimacy with his father, and whom +of all men his father wished him to respect and study; practically +scientific men being, in the baronet's estimation, the only minds +thoroughly mated and enviable. He had to endure an introduction to the +Grandisons, and meet the eyes of his kind, haunted as he was by the +Foolish Young Fellow. The idea that he might by any chance be identified +with him held the poor youth in silent subjection. And it was horrible. +For it was a continued outrage on the fair image he had in his heart. +The notion of the world laughing at him because he loved sweet Lucy +stung him to momentary frenzies, and developed premature misanthropy in +his spirit. Also the System desired to show him whither young women of +the parish lead us, and he was dragged about at nighttime to see the +sons and daughters of darkness, after the fashion prescribed to Mr. +Thompson; how they danced and ogled down the high road to perdition. But +from this sight possibly the teacher learnt more than his pupil, since +we find him seriously asking his meditative hours, in the Note-book: +"Wherefore Wild Oats are only of one gender?" a question certainly +not suggested to him at Raynham; and again--"Whether men might not be +attaching too rigid an importance?"...to a subject with a dotted +tail apparently, for he gives it no other in the Note-book. But, as I +apprehend, he had come to plead in behalf of women here, and had deduced +something from positive observation. To Richard the scenes he witnessed +were strange wild pictures, likely if anything to have increased his +misanthropy, but for his love. + +Certain sweet little notes from Lucy sustained the lover during the +first two weeks of exile. They ceased; and now Richard fell into such +despondency that his father in alarm had to take measures to hasten +their return to Raynham. At the close of the third week Berry laid a +pair of letters, bearing the Raynham post-mark, on the breakfast-table, +and, after reading one attentively, the baronet asked his son if he was +inclined to quit the metropolis. + +"For Raynham, air?" cried Richard, and relapsed, saying, "As you will!" +aware that he had given a glimpse of the Foolish Young Fellow. + +Berry accordingly received orders to make arrangements for their instant +return to Raynham. + +The letter Sir Austin lifted his head from to bespeak his son's wishes +was a composition of the wise youth Adrian's, and ran thus: + +"Benson is doggedly recovering. He requires great indemnities. Happy +when a faithful fool is the main sufferer in a household! I quite agree +with you that our faithful fool is the best servant of great schemes. +Benson is now a piece of history. I tell him that this is indemnity +enough, and that the sweet Muse usually insists upon gentlemen being +half-flayed before she will condescend to notice them; but Benson, I +regret to say, rejects the comfort so fine a reflection should offer, +and had rather keep his skin and live opaque. Heroism seems partly a +matter of training. Faithful folly is Benson's nature: the rest has been +thrust upon. + +"The young person has resigned the neighbourhood. I had an interview +with the fair Papist myself, and also with the man Blaize. They were +both sensible, though one swore and the other sighed. She is pretty. I +hope she does not paint. I can affirm that her legs are strong, for she +walks to Bellingham twice a week to take her Scarlet bath, when, having +confessed and been made clean by the Romish unction, she walks back the +brisker, of which my Protestant muscular systems is yet aware. It was on +the road to Bellingham I engaged her. She is well in the matter of hair. +Madam Godiva might challenge her, it would be a fair match. Has it never +struck you that Woman is nearer the vegetable than Man?--Mr. Blaize +intends her for his son a junction that every lover of fairy mythology +must desire to see consummated. Young Tom is heir to all the agremens of +the Beast. The maids of Lobourne say (I hear) that he is a very Proculus +among them. Possibly the envious men say it for the maids. Beauty does +not speak bad grammar--and altogether she is better out of the way." + +The other letter was from Lady Blandish, a lady's letter, and said: + +"I have fulfilled your commission to the best of my ability, and +heartily sad it has made me. She is indeed very much above her +station--pity that it is so! She is almost beautiful--quite beautiful +at times, and not in any way what you have been led to fancy. The poor +child had no story to tell. I have again seen her, and talked with her +for an hour as kindly as I could. I could gather nothing more than we +know. It is just a woman's history as it invariably commences. Richard +is the god of her idolatry. She will renounce him, and sacrifice herself +for his sake. Are we so bad? She asked me what she was to do. She would +do whatever was imposed upon her--all but pretend to love another, +and that she never would, and, I believe, never will. You know I am +sentimental, and I confess we dropped a few tears together. Her uncle +has sent her for the Winter to the institution where it appears she +was educated, and where they are very fond of her and want to keep her, +which it would be a good thing if they were to do. The man is a good +sort of man. She was entrusted to him by her father, and he never +interferes with her religion, and is very scrupulous about all that +pertains to it, though, as he says, he is a Christian himself. In the +Spring (but the poor child does not know this) she is to come back, and +be married to his lout of a son. I am determined to prevent that. May +I not reckon on your promise to aid me? When you see her, I am sure +you will. It would be sacrilege to look on and permit such a thing. You +know, they are cousins. She asked me, where in the world there was one +like Richard? What could I answer? They were your own words, and spoken +with a depth of conviction! I hope he is really calm. I shudder to think +of him when he comes, and discovers what I have been doing. I hope I +have been really doing right! A good deed, you say, never dies; but we +cannot always know--I must rely on you. Yes, it is; I should think, easy +to suffer martyrdom when one is sure of one's cause! but then one must +be sure of it. I have done nothing lately but to repeat to myself that +saying of yours, No. 54, C. 7, P.S.; and it has consoled me, I cannot +say why, except that all wisdom consoles, whether it applies directly or +not: + +"'For this reason so many fall from God, who have attained to Him; that +they cling to Him with their Weakness, not with their Strength.' + +"I like to know of what you are thinking when you composed this or +that saying--what suggested it. May not one be admitted to inspect +the machinery of wisdom? I feel curious to know how thoughts--real +thoughts--are born. Not that I hope to win the secret. Here is the +beginning of one (but we poor women can never put together even two of +the three ideas which you say go to form a thought): 'When a wise man +makes a false step, will he not go farther than a fool?' It has just +flitted through me. + +"I cannot get on with Gibbon, so wait your return to recommence the +readings. I dislike the sneering essence of his writings. I keep +referring to his face, until the dislike seems to become personal. +How different is it with Wordsworth! And yet I cannot escape from +the thought that he is always solemnly thinking of himself (but I do +reverence him). But this is curious; Byron was a greater egoist, and yet +I do not feel the same with him. He reminds me of a beast of the +desert, savage and beautiful; and the former is what one would imagine +a superior donkey reclaimed from the heathen to be--a very superior +donkey, I mean, with great power of speech and great natural +complacency, and whose stubbornness you must admire as part of his +mission. The worst is that no one will imagine anything sublime in a +superior donkey, so my simile is unfair and false. Is it not strange? I +love Wordsworth best, and yet Byron has the greater power over me. How +is that?" + +("Because," Sir Austin wrote beside the query in pencil, "women are +cowards, and succumb to Irony and Passion, rather than yield their +hearts to Excellence and Nature's Inspiration.") + +The letter pursued: + +"I have finished Boiardo and have taken up Berni. The latter offends +me. I suppose we women do not really care for humour. You are right in +saying we have none ourselves, and 'cackle' instead of laugh. It is true +(of me, at least) that 'Falstaff is only to us an incorrigible fat man.' +I want to know what he illustrates. And Don Quixote--what end can be +served in making a noble mind ridiculous?--I hear you say--practical. So +it is. We are very narrow, I know. But we like wit--practical again! +Or in your words (when I really think they generally come to my +aid--perhaps it is that it is often all your thought); we 'prefer the +rapier thrust, to the broad embrace, of Intelligence.'" + +He trifled with the letter for some time, re-reading chosen passages as +he walked about the room, and considering he scarce knew what. There are +ideas language is too gross for, and shape too arbitrary, which come to +us and have a definite influence upon us, and yet we cannot fasten on +the filmy things and make them visible and distinct to ourselves, much +less to others. Why did he twice throw a look into the glass in the act +of passing it? He stood for a moment with head erect facing it. His +eyes for the nonce seemed little to peruse his outer features; the grey +gathered brows, and the wrinkles much action of them had traced over the +circles half up his high straight forehead; the iron-grey hair that rose +over his forehead and fell away in the fashion of Richard's plume. His +general appearance showed the tints of years; but none of their weight, +and nothing of the dignity of his youth, was gone. It was so far +satisfactory, but his eyes were wide, as one who looks at his essential +self through the mask we wear. + +Perhaps he was speculating as he looked on the sort of aspect he +presented to the lady's discriminative regard. Of her feelings he had +not a suspicion. But he knew with what extraordinary lucidity women +can, when it pleases them, and when their feelings are not quite boiling +under the noonday sun, seize all the sides of a character, and put their +fingers on its weak point. He was cognizant of the total absence of the +humorous in himself (the want that most shut him out from his fellows), +and perhaps the clear-thoughted, intensely self-examining gentleman +filmily conceived, Me also, in common with the poet, she gazes on as one +of the superior--grey beasts! + +He may have so conceived the case; he was capable of that +great-mindedness, and could snatch at times very luminous glances at the +broad reflector which the world of fact lying outside our narrow compass +holds up for us to see ourselves in when we will. Unhappily, the faculty +of laughter, which is due to this gift, was denied him; and having seen, +he, like the companion of friend Balsam, could go no farther. For a +good wind of laughter had relieved him of much of the blight of +self-deception, and oddness, and extravagance; had given a healthier +view of our atmosphere of life; but he had it not. + +Journeying back to Bellingham in the train, with the heated brain and +brilliant eye of his son beside him, Sir Austin tried hard to feel +infallible, as a man with a System should feel; and because he could not +do so, after much mental conflict, he descended to entertain a personal +antagonism to the young woman who had stepped in between his experiment +and success. He did not think kindly of her. Lady Blandish's encomiums +of her behaviour and her beauty annoyed him. Forgetful that he had in +a measure forfeited his rights to it, he took the common ground of +fathers, and demanded, "Why he was not justified in doing all that lay +in his power to prevent his son from casting himself away upon the first +creature with a pretty face he encountered?" Deliberating thus, he +lost the tenderness he should have had for his experiment--the living, +burning youth at his elbow, and his excessive love for him took a +rigorous tone. It appeared to him politic, reasonable, and just, that +the uncle of this young woman, who had so long nursed the prudent scheme +of marrying her to his son, should not only not be thwarted in his +object but encouraged and even assisted. At least, not thwarted. Sir +Austin had no glass before him while these ideas hardened in his mind, +and he had rather forgotten the letter of Lady Blandish. + +Father and son were alone in the railway carriage. Both were too +preoccupied to speak. As they neared Bellingham the dark was filling the +hollows of the country. Over the pine-hills beyond the station a last +rosy streak lingered across a green sky. Richard eyed it while they flew +along. It caught him forward: it seemed full of the spirit of his love, +and brought tears of mournful longing to his eyelids. The sad beauty of +that one spot in the heavens seemed to call out to his soul to swear +to his Lucy's truth to him: was like the sorrowful visage of his +fleur-de-luce as he called her, appealing to him for faith. That +tremulous tender way she had of half-closing and catching light on the +nether-lids, when sometimes she looked up in her lover's face--as look +so mystic-sweet that it had grown to be the fountain of his dreams: he +saw it yonder, and his blood thrilled. + +Know you those wand-like touches of I know not what, before which our +grosser being melts; and we, much as we hope to be in the Awaking, stand +etherealized, trembling with new joy? They come but rarely; rarely even +in love, when we fondly think them revelations. Mere sensations they +are, doubtless: and we rank for them no higher in the spiritual scale +than so many translucent glorious polypi that quiver on the shores, the +hues of heaven running through them. Yet in the harvest of our days +it is something for the animal to have had such mere fleshly polypian +experiences to look back upon, and they give him an horizon--pale seas +of luring splendour. One who has had them (when they do not bound him) +may find the Isles of Bliss sooner than another. Sensual faith in the +upper glories is something. "Let us remember," says The Pilgrim's Scrip, +"that Nature, though heathenish, reaches at her best to the footstool of +the Highest. She is not all dust, but a living portion of the spheres. +In aspiration it is our error to despise her, forgetting that through +Nature only can we ascend. Cherished, trained, and purified, she is then +partly worthy the divine mate who is to make her wholly so. St. Simeon +saw the Hog in Nature, and took Nature for the Hog." + +It was one of these strange bodily exaltations which thrilled the young +man, he knew not how it was, for sadness and his forebodings vanished. +The soft wand touched him. At that moment, had Sir Austin spoken openly, +Richard might have fallen upon his heart. He could not. + +He chose to feel injured on the common ground of fathers, and to pursue +his System by plotting. Lady Blandish had revived his jealousy of the +creature who menaced it, and jealousy of a System is unreflecting and +vindictive as jealousy of woman. + +Heath-roots and pines breathed sharp in the cool autumn evening about +the Bellingham station. Richard stood a moment as he stepped from the +train, and drew the country air into his lungs with large heaves of the +chest. Leaving his father to the felicitations of the station-master, +he went into the Lobourne road to look for his faithful Tom, who had +received private orders through Berry to be in attendance with his +young master's mare, Cassandra, and was lurking in a plantation of +firs unenclosed on the borders of the road, where Richard, knowing his +retainer's zest for conspiracy too well to seek him anywhere but in the +part most favoured with shelter and concealment, found him furtively +whiffing tobacco. + +"What news, Tom? Is there an illness?" + +Tom sent his undress cap on one side to scratch at dilemma, an old +agricultural habit to which he was still a slave in moments of abstract +thought or sudden difficulty. + +"No, I don't want the rake, Mr. Richard," he whinnied with a false grin, +as he beheld his master's eye vacantly following the action. + +"Speak out!" he was commanded. "I haven't had a letter for a week!" + +Richard learnt the news. He took it with surprising outward calm, only +getting a little closer to Cassandra's neck, and looking very hard at +Tom without seeing a speck of him, which had the effect on Tom of making +him sincerely wish his master would punch his head at once rather than +fix him in that owl-like way. + +"Go on!" said Richard, huskily. "Yes? She's gone! Well?" + +Tom was brought to understand he must make the most of trifles, and +recited how he had heard from a female domestic at Belthorpe of the name +of Davenport, formerly known to him, that the young lady never slept a +wink from the hour she knew she was going, but sat up in her bed till +morning crying most pitifully, though she never complained. Hereat the +tears unconsciously streamed down Richard's cheeks. Tom said he had +tried to see her, but Mr. Adrian kept him at work, ciphering at a +terrible sum--that and nothing else all day! saying, it was to please +his young master on his return. "Likewise something in Lat'n," added +Tom. "Nom'tive Mouser!--'nough to make ye mad, sir!" he exclaimed with +pathos. The wretch had been put to acquire a Latin declension. + +Tom saw her on the morning she went away, he said: she was very +sorrowful-looking, and nodded kindly to him as she passed in the fly +along with young Tom Blaize. "She have got uncommon kind eyes, sir," +said Tom, "and cryin' don't spoil them." For which his hand was +wrenched. + +Tom had no more to tell, save that, in rounding the road, the young lady +had hung out her hand, and seemed to move it forward and back, as much +as to sap, Good-bye, Tom! "And though she couldn't see me," said Tom, +"I took off my hat. I did take it so kind of her to think of a chap like +me." He was at high-pressure sentiment--what with his education for a +hero and his master's love-stricken state. + +"You saw no more of her, Tom?" + +"No, sir. That was the last!" + +"That was the last you saw of her, Tom?" + +"Well, sir, I saw nothin' more." + +"And so she went out of sight!" + +"Clean gone, that she were, sir." + +"Why did they take her away? what have they done with her? where have +they taken her to?" + +These red-hot questionings were addressed to the universal heaven rather +than to Tom. + +"Why didn't she write?" they were resumed. "Why did she leave? She's +mine. She belongs to me! Who dared take her away? Why did she leave +without writing?--Tom!" + +"Yes, sir," said the well-drilled recruit, dressing himself up to the +word of command. He expected a variation of the theme from the change of +tone with which his name had been pronounced, but it was again, "Where +have they taken her to?" and this was even more perplexing to Tom than +his hard sum in arithmetic had been. He could only draw down the corners +of his mouth hard, and glance up queerly. + +"She had been crying--you saw that, Tom?" + +"No mistake about that, Mr. Richard. Cryin' all night and all day, I +sh'd say." + +"And she was crying when you saw her?" + +"She look'd as if she'd just done for a moment, sir." + +"But her face was white?" + +"White as a sheet." + +Richard paused to discover whether his instinct had caught a new view +from these facts. He was in a cage, always knocking against the same +bars, fly as he might. Her tears were the stars in his black night. He +clung to them as golden orbs. Inexplicable as they were, they were at +least pledges of love. + +The hues of sunset had left the West. No light was there but the +steadfast pale eye of twilight. Thither he was drawn. He mounted +Cassandra, saying: "Tell them something, Tom. I shan't be home to +dinner," and rode off toward the forsaken home of light over Belthorpe, +whereat he saw the wan hand of his Lucy, waving farewell, receding as he +advanced. His jewel was stolen,--he must gaze upon the empty box. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +Night had come on as Richard entered the old elm-shaded, grass-bordered +lane leading down from Raynham to Belthorpe. The pale eye of twilight +was shut. The wind had tossed up the bank of Western cloud, which was +now flying broad and unlighted across the sky, broad and balmy--the +charioted South-west at full charge behind his panting coursers. As he +neared the farm his heart fluttered and leapt up. He was sure she must +be there. She must have returned. Why should she have left for good +without writing? He caught suspicion by the throat, making it voiceless, +if it lived: he silenced reason. Her not writing was now a proof that +she had returned. He listened to nothing but his imperious passion, +and murmured sweet words for her, as if she were by: tender cherishing +epithet's of love in the nest. She was there--she moved somewhere about +like a silver flame in the dear old house, doing her sweet household +duties. His blood began to sing: O happy those within, to see her, and +be about her! By some extraordinary process he contrived to cast a sort +of glory round the burly person of Farmer Blaize himself. And oh! to +have companionship with a seraph one must know a seraph's bliss, and was +not young Tom to be envied? The smell of late clematis brought on the +wind enwrapped him, and went to his brain, and threw a light over the +old red-brick house, for he remembered where it grew, and the winter +rose-tree, and the jessamine, and the passion-flower: the garden in +front with the standard roses tended by her hands; the long wall to the +left striped by the branches of the cherry, the peep of a further garden +through the wall, and then the orchard, and the fields beyond--the happy +circle of her dwelling! it flashed before his eyes while he looked on +the darkness. And yet it was the reverse of hope which kindled this +light and inspired the momentary calm he experienced: it was despair +exaggerating delusion, wilfully building up on a groundless basis. "For +the tenacity of true passion is terrible," says The Pilgrim's Scrip: +"it will stand against the hosts of heaven, God's great array of Facts, +rather than surrender its aim, and must be crushed before it will +succumb--sent to the lowest pit!" He knew she was not there; she was +gone. But the power of a will strained to madness fought at it, kept it +down, conjured forth her ghost, and would have it as he dictated. Poor +youth! the great array of facts was in due order of march. + +He had breathed her name many times, and once over-loud; almost a cry +for her escaped him. He had not noticed the opening of a door and the +noise of a foot along the gravel walk. He was leaning over Cassandra's +uneasy neck watching the one window intently, when a voice addressed him +out of the darkness. + +"Be that you, young gentleman?--Mr. Fev'rel?" + +Richard's trance was broken. "Mr. Blaize!" he said; recognizing the +farmer's voice. + +"Good even'n t' you, sir," returned the farmer. "I knew the mare though +I didn't know you. Rather bluff to-night it be. Will ye step in, Mr. +Fev'rel? it's beginning' to spit,--going to be a wildish night, I +reckon." + +Richard dismounted. The farmer called one of his men to hold the mare, +and ushered the young man in. Once there, Richard's conjurations ceased. +There was a deadness about the rooms and passages that told of her +absence. The walls he touched--these were the vacant shells of her. +He had never been in the house since he knew her, and now what strange +sweetness, and what pangs! + +Young Tom Blaize was in the parlour, squared over the table in +open-mouthed examination of an ancient book of the fashions for a summer +month which had elapsed during his mother's minority. Young Tom was +respectfully studying the aspects of the radiant beauties of the polite +work. He also was a thrall of woman, newly enrolled, and full of wonder. + +"What, Tom!" the farmer sang out as soon as he had opened the door; +"there ye be! at yer Folly agin, are ye? What good'll them fashens do +to you, I'd like t'know? Come, shut up, and go and see to Mr. Fev'rel's +mare. He's al'ays at that ther' Folly now. I say there never were a +better name for a book than that ther' Folly! Talk about attitudes!" + +The farmer laughed his fat sides into a chair, and motioned his visitor +to do likewise. + +"It's a comfort they're most on 'em females," he pursued, sounding a +thwack on his knee as he settled himself agreeably in his seat. "It +don't matter much what they does, except pinchin' in--waspin' it at the +waist. Give me nature, I say--woman as she's made! eh, young gentleman?" + +"You seem very lonely here," said Richard, glancing round, and at the +ceiling. + +"Lonely?" quoth the farmer. "Well, for the matter o' that, we be!--jest +now, so't happens; I've got my pipe, and Tom've got his Folly. He's on +one side the table, and I'm on t'other. He gapes, and I gazes. We are a +bit lonesome. But there--it's for the best!" + +Richard resumed, "I hardly expected to see you to-night, Mr. Blaize." + +"Y'acted like a man in coming, young gentleman, and I does ye honour for +it!" said Farmer Blaize with sudden energy and directness. + +The thing implied by the farmer's words caused Richard to take a quick +breath. They looked at each other, and looked away, the farmer thrumming +on the arm of his chair. + +Above the mantel-piece, surrounded by tarnished indifferent miniatures +of high-collared, well-to-do yeomen of the anterior generation, +trying their best not to grin, and high-waisted old ladies smiling an +encouraging smile through plentiful cap-puckers, there hung a passably +executed half-figure of a naval officer in uniform, grasping a telescope +under his left arm, who stood forth clearly as not of their kith and +kin. His eyes were blue, his hair light, his bearing that of a man who +knows how to carry his head and shoulders. The artist, while giving +him an epaulette to indicate his rank, had also recorded the juvenility +which a lieutenant in the naval service can retain after arriving at +that position, by painting him with smooth cheeks and fresh ruddy lips. +To this portrait Richard's eyes were directed. Farmer Blaize observed +it, and said-- + +"Her father, sir!" + +Richard moderated his voice to praise the likeness. + +"Yes," said the farmer, "pretty well. Next best to havin' her, though +it's a long way off that!" + +"An old family, Mr. Blaize--is it not?" Richard asked in as careless a +tone as he could assume. + +"Gentlefolks--what's left of 'em," replied the farmer with an equally +affected indifference. + +"And that's her father?" said Richard, growing bolder to speak of her. + +"That's her father, young gentleman!" + +"Mr. Blaize," Richard turned to face him, and burst out, "where is she?" + +"Gone, sir! packed off!--Can't have her here now." The farmer thrummed a +step brisker, and eyed the young man's wild face resolutely. + +"Mr. Blaize," Richard leaned forward to get closer to him. He was +stunned, and hardly aware of what he was saying or doing: "Where has she +gone? Why did she leave?" + +"You needn't to ask, sir--ye know," said the farmer, with a side shot of +his head. + +"But she did not--it was not her wish to go?" + +"No! I think she likes the place. Mayhap she likes't too well!" + +"Why did you send her away to make her unhappy, Mr. Blaize?" + +The farmer bluntly denied it was he was the party who made her unhappy. +"Nobody can't accuse me. Tell ye what, sir. I wunt have the busybodies +set to work about her, and there's all the matter. So let you and I come +to an understandin'." + +A blind inclination to take offence made Richard sit upright. He forgot +it the next minute, and said humbly: "Am I the cause of her going?" + +"Well!" returned the farmer, "to speak straight--ye be!" + +"What can I do, Mr. Blaize, that she may come back again" the young +hypocrite asked. + +"Now," said the farmer, "you're coming to business. Glad to hear ye talk +in that sensible way, Mr. Feverel. You may guess I wants her bad enough. +The house ain't itself now she's away, and I ain't myself. Well, sir! +This ye can do. If you gives me your promise not to meddle with her at +all--I can't mak' out how you come to be acquainted; not to try to +get her to be meetin' you--and if you'd 'a seen her when she left, +you would--when did ye meet?--last grass, wasn't it?--your word as a +gentleman not to be writing letters, and spyin' after her--I'll have her +back at once. Back she shall come!" + +"Give her up!" cried Richard. + +"Ay, that's it!" said the farmer. "Give her up." + +The young man checked the annihilation of time that was on his mouth. + +"You sent her away to protect her from me, then?" he said savagely. + +"That's not quite it, but that'll do," rejoined the farmer. + +"Do you think I shall harm her, sir?" + +"People seem to think she'll harm you, young gentleman," the farmer said +with some irony. + +"Harm me--she? What people?" + +"People pretty intimate with you, sir." + +"What people? Who spoke of us?" Richard began to scent a plot, and would +not be balked. + +"Well, sir, look here," said the farmer. "It ain't no secret, and if +it be, I don't see why I'm to keep it. It appears your education's +peculiar!" The farmer drawled out the word as if he were describing the +figure of a snake. "You ain't to be as other young gentlemen. All the +better! You're a fine bold young gentleman, and your father's a right to +be proud of ye. Well, sir--I'm sure I thank him for't he comes to hear +of you and Luce, and of course he don't want nothin' o' that--more do +I. I meets him there! What's more I won't have nothin' of it. She be my +gal. She were left to my protection. And she's a lady, sir. Let me tell +ye, ye won't find many on 'em so well looked to as she be--my Luce! +Well, Mr. Fev'rel, it's you, or it's her--one of ye must be out o' the +way. So we're told. And Luce--I do believe she's just as anxious about +yer education as yer father she says she'll go, and wouldn't write, +and'd break it off for the sake o' your education. And she've kep' her +word, haven't she?--She's a true'n. What she says she'll do!--True blue +she be, my Luce! So now, sir, you do the same, and I'll thank ye." + +Any one who has tossed a sheet of paper into the fire, and seen it +gradually brown with heat, and strike to flame, may conceive the mind of +the lover as he listened to this speech. + +His anger did not evaporate in words, but condensed and sank deep. "Mr. +Blaize," he said, "this is very kind of the people you allude to, but +I am of an age now to think and act for myself--I love her, sir!" His +whole countenance changed, and the muscles of his face quivered. + +"Well!" said the farmer, appeasingly, "we all do at your age--somebody +or other. It's natural!" + +"I love her!" the young man thundered afresh, too much possessed by his +passion to have a sense of shame in the confession. "Farmer!" his voice +fell to supplication, "will you bring her back?" + +Farmer Blaize made a queer face. He asked--what for? and where was the +promise required?--But was not the lover's argument conclusive? He +said he loved her! and he could not see why her uncle should not in +consequence immediately send for her, that they might be together. All +very well, quoth the farmer, but what's to come of it?--What was to come +of it? Why, love, and more love! And a bit too much! the farmer added +grimly. + +"Then you refuse me, farmer," said Richard. "I must look to you for +keeping her away from me, not to--to--these people. You will not have +her back, though I tell you I love her better than my life?" + +Farmer Blaize now had to answer him plainly, he had a reason and an +objection of his own. And it was, that her character was at stake, and +God knew whether she herself might not be in danger. He spoke with a +kindly candour, not without dignity. He complimented Richard personally, +but young people were young people; baronets' sons were not in the habit +of marrying farmers' nieces. + +At first the son of a System did not comprehend him. When he did, he +said: "Farmer! if I give you my word of honour, as I hope for heaven, to +marry her when I am of age, will you have her back?" + +He was so fervid that, to quiet him, the farmer only shook his head +doubtfully at the bars of the grate, and let his chest fall slowly. +Richard caught what seemed to him a glimpse of encouragement in these +signs, and observed: "It's not because you object to me, Mr. Blaize?" + +The farmer signified it was not that. + +"It's because my father is against me," Richard went on, and undertook +to show that love was so sacred a matter that no father could entirely +and for ever resist his son's inclinations. Argument being a cool field +where the farmer could meet and match him, the young man got on the +tramroad of his passion, and went ahead. He drew pictures of Lucy, of +her truth, and his own. He took leaps from life to death, from death to +life, mixing imprecations and prayers in a torrent. Perhaps he did move +the stolid old Englishman a little, he was so vehement, and made so +visible a sacrifice of his pride. + +Farmer Blaize tried to pacify him, but it was useless. His jewel he must +have. + +The farmer stretched out his hand for the pipe that allayeth +botheration. "May smoke heer now," he said. "Not when--somebody's +present. Smoke in the kitchen then. Don't mind smell?" + +Richard nodded, and watched the operations while the farmer filled, and +lighted, and began to puff, as if his fate hung on them. + +"Who'd a' thought, when you sat over there once, of its comin' to this?" +ejaculated the farmer, drawing ease and reflection from tobacco. "You +didn't think much of her that day, young gentleman! I introduced ye. +Well! things comes about. Can't you wait till she returns in due course, +now?" + +This suggestion, the work of the pipe, did but bring on him another +torrent. + +"It's queer," said the farmer, putting the mouth of the pipe to his +wrinkled-up temples. + +Richard waited for him, and then he laid down the pipe altogether, as +no aid in perplexity, and said, after leaning his arm on the table and +staring at Richard an instant: + +"Look, young gentleman! My word's gone. I've spoke it. I've given 'em +the 'surance she shan't be back till the Spring, and then I'll have +her, and then--well! I do hope, for more reasons than one, ye'll both be +wiser--I've got my own notions about her. But I an't the man to force +a gal to marry 'gainst her inclines. Depend upon it I'm not your +enemy, Mr. Fev'rel. You're jest the one to mak' a young gal proud. So +wait,--and see. That's my 'dvice. Jest tak' and wait. I've no more to +say." + +Richard's impetuosity had made him really afraid of speaking his notions +concerning the projected felicity of young Tom, if indeed they were +serious. + +The farmer repeated that he had no more to say; and Richard, with "Wait +till the Spring! Wait till the Spring!" dinning despair in his ears, +stood up to depart. Farmer Blaize shook his slack hand in a friendly +way, and called out at the door for young Tom, who, dreading allusions +to his Folly, did not appear. A maid rushed by Richard in the passage, +and slipped something into his grasp, which fixed on it without further +consciousness than that of touch. The mare was led forth by the Bantam. +A light rain was falling down strong warm gusts, and the trees were +noisy in the night. Farmer Blaize requested Richard at the gate to +give him his hand, and say all was well. He liked the young man for his +earnestness and honest outspeaking. Richard could not say all was well, +but he gave his hand, and knitted it to the farmer's in a sharp squeeze, +when he got upon Cassandra, and rode into the tumult. + +A calm, clear dawn succeeded the roaring West, and threw its glowing +grey image on the waters of the Abbey-lake. Before sunrise Tom Bakewell +was abroad, and met the missing youth, his master, jogging Cassandra +leisurely along the Lobourne park-road, a sorry couple to look at. +Cassandra's flanks were caked with mud, her head drooped: all that was +in her had been taken out by that wild night. On what heaths and heavy +fallows had she not spent her noble strength, recklessly fretting +through the darkness! + +"Take the mare," said Richard, dismounting and patting her between the +eyes. "She's done up, poor old gal! Look to her, Tom, and then come to +me in my room." + +Tom asked no questions. + +Three days would bring the anniversary of Richard's birth, and though +Tom was close, the condition of the mare, and the young gentleman's +strange freak in riding her out all night becoming known, prepared +everybody at Raynham for the usual bad-luck birthday, the prophets +of which were full of sad gratification. Sir Austin had an unpleasant +office to require of his son; no other than that of humbly begging +Benson's pardon, and washing out the undue blood he had spilt in taking +his Pound of Flesh. Heavy Benson was told to anticipate the demand +for pardon, and practised in his mind the most melancholy Christian +deportment he could assume on the occasion. But while his son was in +this state, Sir Austin considered that he would hardly be brought to +see the virtues of the act, and did not make the requisition of him, and +heavy Benson remained drawn up solemnly expectant at doorways, and at +the foot of the staircase, a Saurian Caryatid, wherever he could get a +step in advance of the young man, while Richard heedlessly passed him, +as he passed everybody else, his head bent to the ground, and his legs +bearing him like random instruments of whose service he was unconscious. +It was a shock to Benson's implicit belief in his patron; and he was +not consoled by the philosophic explanation, "That Good in a strong +many-compounded nature is of slower growth than any other mortal thing, +and must not be forced." Damnatory doctrines best pleased Benson. He was +ready to pardon, as a Christian should, but he did want his enemy before +him on his knees. And now, though the Saurian Eye saw more than all the +other eyes in the house, and saw that there was matter in hand between +Tom and his master to breed exceeding discomposure to the System, +Benson, as he had not received his indemnity, and did not wish to +encounter fresh perils for nothing, held his peace. + +Sir Austin partly divined what was going on in the breast of his son, +without conceiving the depths of distrust his son cherished or quite +measuring the intensity of the passion that consumed him. He was +very kind and tender with him. Like a cunning physician who has, +nevertheless, overlooked the change in the disease superinduced by one +false dose, he meditated his prescriptions carefully and confidently, +sure that he knew the case, and was a match for it. He decreed that +Richard's erratic behaviour should pass unnoticed. Two days before the +birthday, he asked him whether he would object to having company? To +which Richard said: "Have whom you will, sir." The preparation for +festivity commenced accordingly. + +On the birthday eve he dined with the rest. Lady Blandish was there, and +sat penitently at his right. Hippias prognosticated certain indigestion +for himself on the morrow. The Eighteenth Century wondered whether she +should live to see another birthday. Adrian drank the two-years' distant +term of his tutorship, and Algernon went over the list of the Lobourne +men who would cope with Bursley on the morrow. Sir Austin gave ear and a +word to all, keeping his mental eye for his son. To please Lady Blandish +also, Adrian ventured to make trifling jokes about London's Mrs. +Grandison; jokes delicately not decent, but so delicately so, that it +was not decent to perceive it. + +After dinner Richard left them. Nothing more than commonly peculiar was +observed about him, beyond the excessive glitter of his eyes, but +the baronet said, "Yes, yes! that will pass." He and Adrian, and Lady +Blandish, took tea in the library, and sat till a late hour discussing +casuistries relating mostly to the Apple-disease. Converse very amusing +to the wise youth, who could suggest to the two chaste minds situations +of the shadiest character, with the air of a seeker after truth, and +lead them, unsuspecting, where they dared not look about them. The +Aphorist had elated the heart of his constant fair worshipper with a +newly rounded if not newly conceived sentence, when they became aware +that they were four. Heavy Benson stood among them. He said he had +knocked, but received no answer. There was, however, a vestige of +surprise and dissatisfaction on his face beholding Adrian of the +company, which had not quite worn away, and gave place, when it did +vanish, to an aspect of flabby severity. + +"Well, Benson? well?" said the baronet. + +The unmoving man replied: "If you please, Sir Austin--Mr. Richard!" + +"Well!" + +"He's out!" + +"Well?" + +"With Bakewell!" + +"Well?" + +"And a carpet-bag!" + +The carpet-bag might be supposed to contain that funny thing called a +young hero's romance in the making. + +Out Richard was, and with a carpet-bag, which Tom Bakewell carried. He +was on the road to Bellingham, under heavy rain, hasting like an escaped +captive, wild with joy, while Tom shook his skin, and grunted at his +discomforts. The mail train was to be caught at Bellingham. He knew +where to find her now, through the intervention of Miss Davenport, and +thither he was flying, an arrow loosed from the bow: thither, in spite +of fathers and friends and plotters, to claim her, and take her, and +stand with her against the world. + +They were both thoroughly wet when they entered Bellingham, and +Tom's visions were of hot drinks. He hinted the necessity for inward +consolation to his master, who could answer nothing but "Tom! Tom! I +shall see her tomorrow!" It was bad--travelling in the wet, Tom hinted +again, to provoke the same insane outcry, and have his arm seized and +furiously shaken into the bargain. Passing the principal inn of the +place, Tom spoke plainly for brandy. + +"No!" cried Richard, "there's not a moment to be lost!" and as he +said it, he reeled, and fell against Tom, muttering indistinctly of +faintness, and that there was no time to lose. Tom lifted him in his +arms, and got admission to the inn. Brandy, the country's specific, was +advised by host and hostess, and forced into his mouth, reviving him +sufficiently to cry out, "Tom! the bell's ringing: we shall be late," +after which he fell back insensible on the sofa where they had stretched +him. Excitement of blood and brain had done its work upon him. The +youth suffered them to undress him and put him to bed, and there he lay, +forgetful even of love; a drowned weed borne onward by the tide of the +hours. There his father found him. + +Was the Scientific Humanist remorseful? He had looked forward to such a +crisis as that point in the disease his son was the victim of, when the +body would fail and give the spirit calm to conquer the malady, knowing +very well that the seeds of the evil were not of the spirit. Moreover, +to see him and have him was a repose after the alarm Benson had sounded. +"Mark!" he said to Lady Blandish, "when he recovers he will not care for +her." + +The lady had accompanied him to the Bellingham inn on first hearing of +Richard's seizure. + +"What an iron man you can be," she exclaimed, smothering her intuitions. +She was for giving the boy his bauble; promising it him, at least, if he +would only get well and be the bright flower of promise he once was. + +"Can you look on him," she pleaded, "can you look on him and persevere?" + +It was a hard sight for this man who loved his son so deeply. The youth +lay in his strange bed, straight and motionless, with fever on his +cheeks, and altered eyes. + +Old Dr. Clifford of Lobourne was the medical attendant, who, with +head-shaking, and gathering of lips, and reminiscences of ancient +arguments, guaranteed to do all that leech could do in the matter. The +old doctor did admit that Richard's constitution was admirable, and +answered to his prescriptions like a piano to the musician. "But," he +said at a family consultation, for Sir Austin had told him how it stood +with the young man, "drugs are not much in cases of this sort. Change! +That's what's wanted, and as soon as may be. Distraction! He ought to +see the world, and know what he is made of. It's no use my talking, I +know," added the doctor. + +"On the contrary," said Sir Austin, "I am quite of your persuasion. And +the world he shall see--now." + +"We have dipped him in Styx, you know, doctor," Adrian remarked. + +"But, doctor," said Lady Blandish, "have you known a case of this sort +before." + +"Never, my lady," said the doctor, "they're not common in these parts. +Country people are tolerably healthy-minded." + +"But people--and country people--have died for love, doctor?" + +The doctor had not met any of them. + +"Men, or women?" inquired the baronet. + +Lady Blandish believed mostly women. + +"Ask the doctor whether they were healthy-minded women," said the +baronet. "No! you are both looking at the wrong end. Between a +highly-cultured being, and an emotionless animal, there is all the +difference in the world. But of the two, the doctor is nearer the truth. +The healthy nature is pretty safe. If he allowed for organization he +would be right altogether. To feel, but not to feel to excess, that is +the problem." + + "If I can't have the one I chose, + To some fresh maid I will propose," + +Adrian hummed a country ballad. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +When the young Experiment again knew the hours that rolled him onward, +he was in his own room at Raynham. Nothing had changed: only a strong +fist had knocked him down and stunned him, and he opened his eyes to a +grey world: he had forgotten what he lived for. He was weak and +thin, and with a pale memory of things. His functions were the same, +everything surrounding him was the same: he looked upon the old blue +hills, the far-lying fallows, the river, and the woods: he knew them, +they seemed to have lost recollection of him. Nor could he find in +familiar human faces the secret of intimacy of heretofore. They were the +same faces: they nodded and smiled to him. What was lost he could not +tell. Something had been knocked out of him! He was sensible of his +father's sweetness of manner, and he was grieved that he could not reply +to it, for every sense of shame and reproach had strangely gone. He felt +very useless. In place of the fiery love for one, he now bore about a +cold charity to all. + +Thus in the heart of the young man died the Spring Primrose, and while +it died another heart was pushing forth the Primrose of Autumn. + +The wonderful change in Richard, and the wisdom of her admirer, now +positively proved, were exciting matters to Lady Blandish. She was +rebuked for certain little rebellious fancies concerning him that had +come across her enslaved mind from time to time. For was he not almost +a prophet? It distressed the sentimental lady that a love like Richard's +could pass off in mere smoke, and words such as she had heard him speak +in Abbey-wood resolve to emptiness. Nay, it humiliated her personally, +and the baronet's shrewd prognostication humiliated her. For how should +he know, and dare to say, that love was a thing of the dust that could +be trodden out under the heel of science? But he had said so; and he had +proved himself right. She heard with wonderment that Richard of his own +accord had spoken to his father of the folly he had been guilty of, and +had begged his pardon. The baronet told her this, adding that the +youth had done it in a cold unwavering way, without a movement of his +features: had evidently done it to throw off the burden of the duty, he +had conceived. He had thought himself bound to acknowledge that he had +been the Foolish Young Fellow, wishing, possibly, to abjure the fact +by an set of penance. He had also given satisfaction to Benson, and was +become a renovated peaceful spirit, whose main object appeared to be to +get up his physical strength by exercise and no expenditure of speech. + +In her company he was composed and courteous; even when they were alone +together, he did not exhibit a trace of melancholy. Sober he seemed, as +one who has recovered from a drunkenness and has determined to drink +no more. The idea struck her that he might be playing a part, but Tom +Bakewell, in a private conversation they had, informed her that he had +received an order from his young master, one day while boxing with him, +not to mention the young lady's name to him as long as he lived; and Tom +could only suppose that she had offended him. Theoretically wise Lady +Blandish had always thought the baronet; she was unprepared to find him +thus practically sagacious. She fell many degrees; she wanted something +to cling to; so she clung to the man who struck her low. Love, then, +was earthly; its depth could be probed by science! A man lived who could +measure it from end to end; foretell its term; handle the young cherub +as were he a shot owl! We who have flown into cousinship with the +empyrean, and disported among immortal hosts, our base birth as a child +of Time is made bare to us!--our wings are cut! Oh, then, if science is +this victorious enemy of love, let us love science! was the logic of +the lady's heart; and secretly cherishing the assurance that she should +confute him yet, and prove him utterly wrong, she gave him the fruits of +present success, as it is a habit of women to do; involuntarily partly. +The fires took hold of her. She felt soft emotions such as a girl feels, +and they flattered her. It was like youth coming back. Pure women have a +second youth. The Autumn primrose flourished. + +We are advised by The Pilgrim's Scrip that-- + +"The ways of women, which are Involution, and their practices, which +are Opposition, are generally best hit upon by guess work, and a bold +word;"--it being impossible to track them and hunt them down in the +ordinary style. + +So that we may not ourselves become involved and opposed, let us each of +us venture a guess and say a bold word as to how it came that the lady, +who trusted love to be eternal, grovelled to him that shattered her +tender faith, and loved him. + +Hitherto it had been simply a sentimental dalliance, and gossips had +maligned the lady. Just when the gossips grew tired of their slander, +and inclined to look upon her charitably, she set about to deserve every +word they had said of her; which may instruct us, if you please, that +gossips have only to persist in lying to be crowned with verity, or that +one has only to endure evil mouths for a period to gain impunity. She +was always at the Abbey now. She was much closeted with the baronet. It +seemed to be understood that she had taken Mrs. Doria's place. Benson in +his misogynic soul perceived that she was taking Lady Feverel's: but +any report circulated by Benson was sure to meet discredit, and drew the +gossips upon himself; which made his meditations tragic. No sooner was +one woman defeated than another took the field! The object of the System +was no sooner safe than its great author was in danger! + +"I can't think what has come to Benson" he said to Adrian. + +"He seems to have received a fresh legacy of several pounds of lead," +returned the wise youth, and imitating Dr. Clifford's manner. "Change is +what he wants! distraction! send him to Wales for a month, sir, and let +Richard go with him. The two victims of woman may do each other good." + +"Unfortunately I can't do without him," said the baronet. + +"Then we must continue to have him on our shoulders all day, and on our +chests all night!" Adrian ejaculated. + +"I think while he preserves this aspect we won't have him at the +dinner-table," said the baronet. + +Adrian thought that would be a relief to their digestions; and added: +"You know, sir, what he says?" + +Receiving a negative, Adrian delicately explained to him that Benson's +excessive ponderosity of demeanour was caused by anxiety for the safety +of his master. + +"You must pardon a faithful fool, sir," he continued, for the baronet +became red, and exclaimed: + +"His stupidity is past belief! I have absolutely to bolt my study-door +against him." + +Adrian at once beheld a charming scene in the interior of the study, not +unlike one that Benson had visually witnessed. For, like a wary prophet, +Benson, that he might have warrant for what he foretold of the future, +had a care to spy upon the present: warned haply by The Pilgrim's Scrip, +of which he was a diligent reader, and which says, rather emphatically: +"Could we see Time's full face, we were wise of him." Now to see Time's +full face, it is sometimes necessary to look through keyholes, the +veteran having a trick of smiling peace to you on one cheek and +grimacing confusion on the other behind the curtain. Decency and a sense +of honour restrain most of us from being thus wise and miserable for +ever. Benson's excuse was that he believed in his master, who was +menaced. And moreover, notwithstanding his previous tribulation, to spy +upon Cupid was sweet to him. So he peeped, and he saw a sight. He saw +Time's full face; or, in other words, he saw the wiles of woman and the +weakness of man: which is our history, as Benson would have written it, +and a great many poets and philosophers have written it. + +Yet it was but the plucking of the Autumn primrose that Benson had seen: +a somewhat different operation from the plucking of the Spring one: very +innocent! Our staid elderly sister has paler blood, and has, or thinks +she has, a reason or two about the roots. She is not all instinct. "For +this high cause, and for that I know men, and know him to be the flower +of men, I give myself to him!" She makes that lofty inward exclamation +while the hand is detaching her from the roots. Even so strong a +self-justification she requires. She has not that blind glory in +excess which her younger sister can gild the longest leap with. And if, +moth-like, she desires the star, she is nervously cautious of candles. +Hence her circles about the dangerous human flame are wide and shy. +She must be drawn nearer and nearer by a fresh reason. She loves to +sentimentalize. Lady Blandish had been sentimentalizing for ten years. +She would have preferred to pursue the game. The dark-eyed dame was +pleased with her smooth life and the soft excitement that did not ruffle +it. Not willingly did she let herself be won. + +"Sentimentalists," says The Pilgrim's Scrip, "are they who seek to enjoy +without incurring the Immense Debtorship for a thing done." + +"It is," the writer says of Sentimentalism elsewhere, "a happy pastime +and an important science to the timid, the idle, and the heartless; but +a damning one to them who have anything to forfeit." + +However, one who could set down the dying for love, as a sentimentalism, +can hardly be accepted as a clear authority. Assuredly he was not one to +avoid the incurring of the immense debtorship in any way: but he was +a bondsman still to the woman who had forsaken him, and a spoken word +would have made it seem his duty to face that public scandal which was +the last evil to him. What had so horrified the virtuous Benson, Richard +had already beheld in Daphne's Bower; a simple kissing of the fair white +hand! Doubtless the keyhole somehow added to Benson's horror. The +two similar performances, so very innocent, had wondrous opposite +consequences. The first kindled Richard to adore Woman; the second +destroyed Benson's faith in Man. But Lady Blandish knew the difference +between the two. She understood why the baronet did not speak; excused, +and respected him for it. She was content, since she must love, to love +humbly, and she had, besides, her pity for his sorrows to comfort her. A +hundred fresh reasons for loving him arose and multiplied every day. +He read to her the secret book in his own handwriting, composed for +Richard's Marriage Guide: containing Advice and Directions to a Young +Husband, full of the most tender wisdom and delicacy; so she thought; +nay, not wanting in poetry, though neither rhymed nor measured. He +expounded to her the distinctive character of the divers ages of love, +giving the palm to the flower she put forth, over that of Spring, or the +Summer rose. And while they sat and talked; "My wound has healed," he +said. "How?" she asked. "At the fountain of your eyes," he replied, and +drew the joy of new life from her blushes, without incurring further +debtor ship for a thing done. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +Let it be some apology for the damage caused by the careering hero, +and a consolation to the quiet wretches, dragged along with him at his +chariot-wheels, that he is generally the last to know when he has made +an actual start; such a mere creature is he, like the rest of us, albeit +the head of our fates. By this you perceive the true hero, whether he be +a prince or a pot-boy, that he does not plot; Fortune does all for him. +He may be compared to one to whom, in an electric circle, it is given to +carry the battery. + +We caper and grimace at his will; yet not his the will, not his +the power. 'Tis all Fortune's, whose puppet he is. She deals her +dispensations through him. Yea, though our capers be never so comical, +he laughs not. Intent upon his own business, the true hero asks little +services of us here and there; thinks it quite natural that they should +be acceded to, and sees nothing ridiculous in the lamentable contortions +we must go through to fulfil them. Probably he is the elect of Fortune, +because of that notable faculty of being intent upon his own business: +"Which is," says The Pilgrim's Scrip, "with men to be valued equal to +that force which in water makes a stream." This prelude was necessary to +the present chapter of Richard's history. + +It happened that in the turn of the year, and while old earth was busy +with her flowers, the fresh wind blew, the little bird sang, and Hippias +Feverel, the Dyspepsy, amazed, felt the Spring move within him. He +communicated his delightful new sensations to the baronet, his brother, +whose constant exclamation with regard to him, was: "Poor Hippias! +All his machinery is bare!" and had no hope that he would ever be in a +condition to defend it from view. Nevertheless Hippias had that hope, +and so he told his brother, making great exposure of his machinery +to effect the explanation. He spoke of all his physical experiences +exultingly, and with wonder. The achievement of common efforts, not +usually blazoned, he celebrated as triumphs, and, of course, had Adrian +on his back very quickly. But he could bear him, or anything, now. It +was such ineffable relief to find himself looking out upon the world +of mortals instead of into the black phantasmal abysses of his own +complicated frightful structure. "My mind doesn't so much seem to haunt +itself, now," said Hippias, nodding shortly and peering out of intense +puckers to convey a glimpse of what hellish sufferings his had been: "I +feel as if I had come aboveground." + +A poor Dyspepsy may talk as he will, but he is the one who never +gets sympathy, or experiences compassion: and it is he whose groaning +petitions for charity do at last rout that Christian virtue. Lady +Blandish, a charitable soul, could not listen to Hippias, though she +had a heart for little mice and flies, and Sir Austin had also small +patience with his brother's gleam of health, which was just enough to +make his disease visible. He remembered his early follies and excesses, +and bent his ear to him as one man does to another who complains of +having to pay a debt legally incurred. + +"I think," said Adrian, seeing how the communications of Hippias were +received, "that when our Nemesis takes lodgings in the stomach, it's +best to act the Spartan, smile hard, and be silent." + +Richard alone was decently kind to Hippias; whether from opposition, or +real affection, could not be said, as the young man was mysterious. He +advised his uncle to take exercise, walked with him, cultivated cheerful +impressions in him, and pointed out innocent pursuits. He made Hippias +visit with him some of the poor old folk of the village, who bewailed +the loss of his cousin Austin Wentworth, and did his best to waken him +up, and give the outer world a stronger hold on him. He succeeded in +nothing but in winning his uncle's gratitude. The season bloomed scarce +longer than a week for Hippias, and then began to languish. The poor +Dyspepsy's eager grasp at beatification relaxed: he went underground +again. He announced that he felt "spongy things"--one of the more +constant throes of his malady. His bitter face recurred: he chewed the +cud of horrid hallucinations. He told Richard he must give up +going about with him: people telling of their ailments made him so +uncomfortable--the birds were so noisy, pairing--the rude bare soil +sickened him. + +Richard treated him with a gravity equal to his father's. He asked what +the doctors said. + +"Oh! the doctors!" cried Hippias with vehement scepticism. "No man of +sense believes in medicine for chronic disorder. Do you happen to have +heard of any new remedy then, Richard? No? They advertise a great many +cures for indigestion, I assure you, my dear boy. I wonder whether one +can rely upon the authenticity of those signatures? I see no reason why +there should be no cure for such a disease?--Eh? And it's just one of +the things a quack, as they call them, would hit upon sooner than one +who is in the beaten track. Do you know, Richard, my dear boy, I've +often thought that if we could by any means appropriate to our use some +of the extraordinary digestive power that a boa constrictor has in his +gastric juices, there is really no manner of reason why we should not +comfortably dispose of as much of an ox as our stomachs will hold, and +one might eat French dishes without the wretchedness of thinking what's +to follow. And this makes me think that those fellows may, after all, +have got some truth in them: some secret that, of course, they require +to be paid for. We distrust each other in this world too much, +Richard. I've felt inclined once or twice--but it's absurd!--If it +only alleviated a few of my sufferings I should be satisfied. I've no +hesitation in saying that I should be quite satisfied if it only did +away with one or two, and left me free to eat and drink as other people +do. Not that I mean to try them. It's only a fancy--Eh? What a thing +health is, my dear boy! Ah! if I were like you! I was in love once!" + +"Were you!" said Richard, coolly regarding him. + +"I've forgotten what I felt!" Hippias sighed. "You've very much +improved, my dear boy." + +"So people say," quoth Richard. + +Hippias looked at him anxiously: "If I go to town and get the doctor's +opinion about trying a new course--Eh, Richard? will you come with me? I +should like your company. We could see London together, you know. Enjoy +ourselves," and Hippias rubbed his hands. + +Richard smiled at the feeble glimmer of enjoyment promised by his +uncle's eyes, and said he thought it better they should stay where they +were--an answer that might mean anything. Hippias immediately became +possessed by the beguiling project. He went to the baronet, and put the +matter before him, instancing doctors as the object of his journey, not +quacks, of course; and requesting leave to take Richard. Sir Austin was +getting uneasy about his son's manner. It was not natural. His heart +seemed to be frozen: he had no confidences: he appeared to have no +ambition--to have lost the virtues of youth with the poison that +had passed out of him. He was disposed to try what effect a little +travelling might have on him, and had himself once or twice hinted +to Richard that it would be good for him to move about, the young man +quietly replying that he did not wish to quit Raynham at all, which was +too strict a fulfilment of his father's original views in educating +him there entirely. On the day that Hippias made his proposal, Adrian, +seconded by Lady Blandish, also made one. The sweet Spring season +stirred in Adrian as well as in others: not to pastoral measures: to the +joys of the operatic world and bravura glories. He also suggested that +it would be advisable to carry Richard to town for a term, and let +him know his position, and some freedom. Sir Austin weighed the two +proposals. He was pretty certain that Richard's passion was consumed, +and that the youth was now only under the burden of its ashes. He had +found against his heart, at the Bellingham inn: a great lock of golden +hair. He had taken it, and the lover, after feeling about for it with +faint hands, never asked for it. This precious lock (Miss Davenport had +thrust it into his hand at Belthorpe as Lucy's last gift), what sighs +and tears it had weathered! The baronet laid it in Richard's sight one +day, and beheld him take it up, turn it over, and drop it down again +calmly, as if he were handling any common curiosity. It pacified him on +that score. The young man's love was dead. Dr. Clifford said rightly: +he wanted distractions. The baronet determined that Richard should go. +Hippias and Adrian then pressed their several suits as to which should +have him. Hippias, when he could forget himself, did not lack sense. He +observed that Adrian was not at present a proper companion for Richard, +and would teach him to look on life from the false point. + +"You don't understand a young philosopher," said the baronet. + +"A young philosopher's an old fool!" returned Hippias, not thinking that +his growl had begotten a phrase. + +His brother smiled with gratification, and applauded him loudly: +"Excellent! worthy of your best days! You're wrong, though, in applying +it to Adrian. He has never been precocious. All he has done has been to +bring sound common sense to bear upon what he hears and sees. I think, +however," the baronet added, "he may want faith in the better qualities +of men." And this reflection inclined him not to let his son be alone +with Adrian. He gave Richard his choice, who saw which way his father's +wishes tended, and decided so to please him. Naturally it annoyed Adrian +extremely. He said to his chief: + +"I suppose you know what you are doing, sir. I don't see that we derive +any advantage from the family name being made notorious for twenty +years of obscene suffering, and becoming a byword for our constitutional +tendency to stomachic distension before we fortunately encountered +Quackem's Pill. My uncle's tortures have been huge, but I would rather +society were not intimate with them under their several headings." +Adrian enumerated some of the most abhorrent. "You know him, sir. If he +conceives a duty, he will do it in the face of every decency--all the +more obstinate because the conception is rare. If he feels a little +brisk the morning after the pill, he sends the letter that makes us +famous! We go down to posterity with heightened characteristics, to say +nothing of a contemporary celebrity nothing less than our being turned +inside-out to the rabble. I confess I don't desire to have my machinery +made bare to them." + +Sir Austin assured the wise youth that Hippias had arranged to go to Dr. +Bairam. He softened Adrian's chagrin by telling him that in about two +weeks they would follow to London: hinting also at a prospective Summer +campaign. The day was fixed for Richard to depart, and the day came. +Madame the Eighteenth Century called him to her chamber and put into his +hand a fifty-pound note, as her contribution toward his pocket-expenses. +He did not want it, he said, but she told him he was a young man, and +would soon make that fly when he stood on his own feet. The old lady +did not at all approve of the System in her heart, and she gave her +grandnephew to understand that, should he require more, he knew where +to apply, and secrets would be kept. His father presented him with a +hundred pounds--which also Richard said he did not want--he did not care +for money. "Spend it or not," said the baronet, perfectly secure in him. + +Hippias had few injunctions to observe. They were to take up quarters +at the hotel, Algernon's general run of company at the house not being +altogether wholesome. The baronet particularly forewarned Hippias of +the imprudence of attempting to restrict the young man's movements, and +letting him imagine he was under surveillance. Richard having been, as +it were, pollarded by despotism, was now to grow up straight, and bloom +again, in complete independence, as far as he could feel. So did the +sage decree; and we may pause a moment to reflect how wise were his +previsions, and how successful they must have been, had not Fortune, +the great foe to human cleverness, turned against him, or he against +himself. + +The departure took place on a fine March morning. The bird of Winter +sang from the budding tree; in the blue sky sang the bird of Summer. +Adrian rode between Richard and Hippias to the Bellingham station, and +vented his disgust on them after his own humorous fashion, because it +did not rain and damp their ardour. In the rear came Lady Blandish and +the baronet, conversing on the calm summit of success. + +"You have shaped him exactly to resemble yourself," she said, pointing +with her riding-whip to the grave stately figure of the young man. + +"Outwardly, perhaps," he answered, and led to a discussion on Purity and +Strength, the lady saying that she preferred Purity. + +"But you do not," said the baronet. "And there I admire the always true +instinct of women, that they all worship Strength in whatever form, +and seem to know it to be the child of heaven; whereas Purity is but a +characteristic, a garment, and can be spotted--how soon! For there are +questions in this life with which we must grapple or be lost, and when, +hunted by that cold eye of intense inner-consciousness, the clearest +soul becomes a cunning fox, if it have not courage to stand and do +battle. Strength indicates a boundless nature--like the Maker. Strength +is a God to you--Purity a toy. A pretty one, and you seem to be fond of +playing with it," he added, with unaccustomed slyness. + +The lady listened, pleased at the sportive malice which showed that the +constraint on his mind had left him. It was for women to fight their +fight now; she only took part in it for amusement. This is how the ranks +of our enemies are thinned; no sooner do poor women put up a champion in +their midst than she betrays them. + +"I see," she said archly, "we are the lovelier vessels; you claim the +more direct descent. Men are seedlings: Women--slips! Nay, you have said +so," she cried out at his gestured protestation, laughing. + +"But I never printed it." + +"Oh! what you speak answers for print with me." + +Exquisite Blandish! He could not choose but love her. + +"Tell me what are your plans?" she asked. "May a woman know?" + +He replied, "I have none or you would share them. I shall study him +in the world. This indifference must wear off. I shall mark his +inclinations now, and he shall be what he inclines to. Occupation will +be his prime safety. His cousin Austin's plan of life appears most +to his taste, and he can serve the people that way as well as in +Parliament, should he have no stronger ambition. The clear duty of a man +of any wealth is to serve the people as he best can. He shall go among +Austin's set, if he wishes it, though personally I find no pleasure in +rash imaginations, and undigested schemes built upon the mere instinct +of principles." + +"Look at him now," said the lady. "He seems to care for nothing; not +even for the beauty of the day." + +"Or Adrian's jokes," added the baronet. + +Adrian could be seen to be trying zealously to torment a laugh, or a +confession of irritation, out of his hearers, stretching out his chin to +one, and to the other, with audible asides. Richard he treated as a +new instrument of destruction about to be let loose on the slumbering +metropolis; Hippias as one in an interesting condition; and he got so +much fun out of the notion of these two journeying together, and the +mishaps that might occur to them, that he esteemed it almost a personal +insult for his hearers not to laugh. The wise youth's dull life at +Raynham had afflicted him with many peculiarities of the professional +joker. + +"Oh! the Spring! the Spring!" he cried, as in scorn of his sallies they +exchanged their unmeaning remarks on the sweet weather across him. "You +seem both to be uncommonly excited by the operations of turtles, rooks, +and daws. Why can't you let them alone?" + + 'Wind bloweth, + Cock croweth, + Doodle-doo; + Hippy verteth, + Ricky sterteth, + Sing Cuckoo!' + +There's an old native pastoral!--Why don't you write a Spring sonnet, +Ricky? The asparagus-beds are full of promise, I hear, and eke the +strawberry. Berries I fancy your Pegasus has a taste for. What kind of +berry was that I saw some verses of yours about once?--amatory verses +to some kind of berry--yewberry, blueberry, glueberry! Pretty verses, +decidedly warm. Lips, eyes, bosom, legs--legs? I don't think you gave +her any legs. No legs and no nose. That appears to be the poetic taste +of the day. It shall be admitted that you create the very beauties for a +chaste people. + + 'O might I lie where leans her lute!' + +and offend no moral community. That's not a bad image of yours, my dear +boy: + + 'Her shape is like an antelope + Upon the Eastern hills.' + +But as a candid critic, I would ask you if the likeness can be +considered correct when you give her no legs? You will see at the ballet +that you are in error about women at present, Richard. That admirable +institution which our venerable elders have imported from Gallia for the +instruction of our gaping youth, will edify and astonish you. I assure +you I used, from reading The Pilgrim's Scrip, to imagine all sorts of +things about them, till I was taken there, and learnt that they are very +like us after all, and then they ceased to trouble me. Mystery is the +great danger to youth, my son! Mystery is woman's redoubtable weapon, +O Richard of the Ordeal! I'm aware that you've had your lessons in +anatomy, but nothing will persuade you that an anatomical figure means +flesh and blood. You can't realize the fact. Do you intend to publish +when you're in town? It'll be better not to put your name. Having one's +name to a volume of poems is as bad as to an advertising pill." + +"I will send you an early copy, Adrian, when I publish," quoth Richard. +"Hark at that old blackbird, uncle." + +"Yes!" Hippias quavered; looking up from the usual subject of his +contemplation, and trying to take an interest in him, "fine old fellow!" + +"What a chuckle he gives out before he flies! Not unlike July +nightingales. You know that bird I told you of--the blackbird that had +its mate shot, and used to come to sing to old Dame Bakewell's bird from +the tree opposite. A rascal knocked it over the day before yesterday, +and the dame says her bird hasn't sung a note since." + +"Extraordinary!" Hippias muttered abstractedly. "I remember the verses." + +"But where's your moral?" interposed the wrathful Adrian. "Where's +constancy rewarded? + + 'The ouzel-cock so black of hue, + With orange-tawny bill; + The rascal with his aim so true; + The Poet's little quill!' + +"Where's the moral of that? except that all's game to the poet! +Certainly we have a noble example of the devotedness of the female, who +for three entire days refuses to make herself heard, on account of a +defunct male. I suppose that's what Ricky dwells on." + +"As you please, my dear Adrian," says Richard, and points out larch-buds +to his uncle, as they ride by the young green wood. + +The wise youth was driven to extremity. Such a lapse from his pupil's +heroics to this last verge of Arcadian coolness, Adrian could not +believe in. "Hark at this old blackbird!" he cried, in his turn, and +pretending to interpret his fits of song: + +"Oh, what a pretty comedy!--Don't we wear the mask well, my +Fiesco?--Genoa will be our own to-morrow!--Only wait until the train has +started--jolly! jolly! jolly! We'll be winners yet! + +"Not a bad verse--eh, Ricky? my Lucius Junius!" + +"You do the blackbird well," said Richard, and looked at him in a manner +mildly affable. + +Adrian shrugged. "You're a young man of wonderful powers," he +emphatically observed; meaning to say that Richard quite beat him; for +which opinion Richard gravely thanked him, and with this they rode into +Bellingham. + +There was young Tom Blaize at the station, in his Sunday beaver and +gala waistcoat and neckcloth, coming the lord over Tom Bakewell, who had +preceded his master in charge of the baggage. He likewise was bound for +London. Richard, as he was dismounting, heard Adrian say to the baronet: +"The Beast, sir, appears to be going to fetch Beauty;" but he paid no +heed to the words. Whether young Tom heard them or not, Adrian's look +took the lord out of him, and he shrunk away into obscurity, where the +nearest approach to the fashions which the tailors of Bellingham could +supply to him, sat upon him more easily, and he was not stiffened by +the eyes of the superiors whom he sought to rival. The baronet, Lady +Blandish, and Adrian remained on horseback, and received Richard's +adieux across the palings. He shook hands with each of them in the same +kindly cold way, elicitating from Adrian a marked encomium on his style +of doing it. The train came up, and Richard stepped after his uncle into +one of the carriages. + +Now surely there will come an age when the presentation of science at +war with Fortune and the Fates, will be deemed the true epic of modern +life; and the aspect of a scientific humanist who, by dint of incessant +watchfulness, has maintained a System against those active forties, +cannot be reckoned less than sublime, even though at the moment he but +sit upon his horse, on a fine March morning such as this, and smile +wistfully to behold the son of his heart, his System incarnate, wave a +serene adieu to tutelage, neither too eager nor morbidly unwilling to +try his luck alone for a term of two weeks. At present, I am aware, an +audience impatient for blood and glory scorns the stress I am putting on +incidents so minute, a picture so little imposing. An audience will come +to whom it will be given to see the elementary machinery at work: who, +as it were, from some slight hint of the straws, will feel the winds +of March when they do not blow. To them will nothing be trivial, seeing +that they will have in their eyes the invisible conflict going on around +us, whose features a nod, a smile, a laugh of ours perpetually changes. +And they will perceive, moreover, that in real life all hangs together: +the train is laid in the lifting of an eyebrow, that bursts upon the +field of thousands. They will see the links of things as they pass, and +wonder not, as foolish people now do, that this great matter came out of +that small one. + +Such an audience, then, will participate in the baronet's gratification +at his son's demeanour, wherein he noted the calm bearing of experience +not gained in the usual wanton way: and will not be without some excited +apprehension at his twinge of astonishment, when, just as the train went +sliding into swiftness, he beheld the grave, cold, self-possessed young +man throw himself back in the carriage violently laughing. Science +was at a loss to account for that. Sir Austin checked his mind from +inquiring, that he might keep suspicion at a distance, but he thought it +odd, and the jarring sensation that ran along his nerves at the sight, +remained with him as he rode home. + +Lady Blandish's tender womanly intuition bade her say: "You see it was +the very thing he wanted. He has got his natural spirits already." + +"It was," Adrian put in his word, "the exact thing he wanted. His +spirits have returned miraculously." + +"Something amused him," said the baronet, with an eye on the puffing +train. + +"Probably something his uncle said or did," Lady Blandish suggested, and +led off at a gallop. + +Her conjecture chanced to be quite correct. The cause for Richard's +laughter was simple enough. Hippias, on finding the carriage-door closed +on him, became all at once aware of the bright-haired hope which dwells +in Change; for one who does not woo her too frequently; and to express +his sudden relief from mental despondency at the amorous prospect, the +Dyspepsy bent and gave his hands a sharp rub between his legs: which +unlucky action brought Adrian's pastoral, + + "Hippy verteth, + Sing cuckoo!" + +in such comic colours before Richard, that a demon of laughter seized +him. + + "Hippy verteth!" + +Every time he glanced at his uncle the song sprang up, and he laughed so +immoderately that it looked like madness come upon him. + +"Why, why, why, what are you laughing at, my dear boy," said Hippias, +and was provoked by the contagious exercise to a modest "ha! ha!" + +"Why, what are you laughing at, uncle?" cried Richard. + +"I really don't know," Hippias chuckled. + +"Nor I, uncle! Sing, cuckoo!" + +They laughed themselves into the pleasantest mood imaginable. Hippias +not only came aboveground, he flew about in the very skies, verting like +any blithe creature of the season. He remembered old legal jokes, and +anecdotes of Circuit; and Richard laughed at them all, but more at +him--he was so genial, and childishly fresh, and innocently joyful at +his own transformation, while a lurking doubt in the bottom of his eyes, +now and then, that it might not last, and that he must go underground +again, lent him a look of pathos and humour which tickled his youthful +companion irresistibly, and made his heart warm to him. + +"I tell you what, uncle," said Richard, "I think travelling's a capital +thing." + +"The best thing in the world, my dear boy," Hippias returned. "It makes +me wish I had given up that Work of mine, and tried it before, instead +of chaining myself to a task. We're quite different beings in a minute. +I am. Hem! what shall we have for dinner?" + +"Leave that to me, uncle. I shall order for you. You know, I intend to +make you well. How gloriously we go along! I should like to ride on a +railway every day." + +Hippias remarked: "They say it rather injures the digestion." + +"Nonsense! see how you'll digest to-night and to-morrow." + +"Perhaps I shall do something yet," sighed Hippias, alluding to the vast +literary fame he had aforetime dreamed of. "I hope I shall have a good +night to-night." + +"Of course you will! What! after laughing like that?" + +"Ugh!" Hippias grunted, "I daresay, Richard, you sleep the moment you +get into bed!" + +"The instant my head's on my pillow, and up the moment I wake. Health's +everything!" + +"Health's everything!" echoed Hippias, from his immense distance. + +"And if you'll put yourself in my hands," Richard continued, "you shall +do just as I do. You shall be well and strong, and sing 'Jolly!' like +Adrian's blackbird. You shall, upon my honour, uncle!" + +He specified the hours of devotion to his uncle's recovery--no less +than twelve a day--that he intended to expend, and his cheery robustness +almost won his uncle to leap up recklessly and clutch health as his own. + +"Mind," quoth Hippias, with a half-seduced smile, "mind your dishes are +not too savoury!" + +"Light food and claret! Regular meals and amusement! Lend your heart to +all, but give it to none!" exclaims young Wisdom, and Hippias mutters, +"Yes! yes!" and intimates that the origin of his malady lay in his not +following that maxim earlier. + +"Love ruins us, my dear boy," he said, thinking to preach Richard a +lesson, and Richard boisterously broke out: + + "The love of Monsieur Francatelli, + It was the ruin of--et coetera." + +Hippias blinked, exclaiming, "Really, my dear boy! I never saw you so +excited." + +"It's the railway! It's the fun, uncle!" + +"Ah!" Hippias wagged a melancholy head, "you've got the Golden Bride! +Keep her if you can. That's a pretty fable of your father's. I gave him +the idea, though. Austin filches a great many of my ideas!" + +"Here's the idea in verse, uncle: + + 'O sunless walkers by the tide! + O have you seen the Golden Bride! + They say that she is fair beyond + All women; faithful, and more fond! + +"You know, the young inquirer comes to a group of penitent sinners by +the brink of a stream. They howl, and answer: + + Faithful she is, but she forsakes: + And fond, yet endless woe she makes: + And fair! but with this curse she's cross'd; + To know her not till she is lost!' + +"Then the doleful party march off in single file solemnly, and the +fabulist pursues: + + 'She hath a palace in the West: + Bright Hesper lights her to her rest: + And him the Morning Star awakes + Whom to her charmed arms she takes. + + So lives he till he sees, alas! + The maids of baser metal pass.' + +"And prodigal of the happiness she lends him, he asks to share it with +one of them. There is the Silver Maid, and the Copper, and the Brassy +Maid, and others of them. First, you know, he tries Argentine, and finds +her only twenty to the pound, and has a worse experience with Copperina, +till he descends to the scullery; and the lower he goes, the less +obscure become the features of his Bride of Gold, and all her radiance +shines forth, my uncle." + +"Verse rather blunts the point. Well, keep to her, now you've got her," +says Hippias. + +"We will, uncle!--Look how the farms fly past! Look at the cattle in the +fields! And how the lines duck, and swim up! + + 'She claims the whole, and not the part-- + The coin of an unused heart! + To gain his Golden Bride again, + He hunts with melancholy men,' + --and is waked no longer by the Morning Star!" + +"Not if he doesn't sleep till an hour before it rises!" Hippias +interjected. "You don't rhyme badly. But stick to prose. Poetry's a +Base-metal maid. I'm not sure that any writing's good for the digestion. +I'm afraid it has spoilt mine." + +"Fear nothing, uncle!" laughed Richard. "You shall ride in the park with +me every day to get an appetite. You and I and the Golden Bride. You +know that little poem of Sandoe's? + + 'She rides in the park on a prancing bay, + She and her squires together; + Her dark locks gleam from a bonnet of grey, + And toss with the tossing feather. + + 'Too calmly proud for a glance of pride + Is the beautiful face as it passes; + The cockneys nod to each other aside, + The coxcombs lift their glasses. + + 'And throng to her, sigh to her, you that can breach + The ice-wall that guards her securely; + You have not such bliss, though she smile on you each, + As the heart that can image her purely.' + +"Wasn't Sandoe once a friend of my father's? I suppose they quarrelled. +He understands the heart. What does he make his 'Humble Lover' say? + + 'True, Madam, you may think to part + Conditions by a glacier-ridge, + But Beauty's for the largest heart, + And all abysses Love can bridge! + +"Hippias now laughed; grimly, as men laugh at the emptiness of words." + +"Largest heart!" he sneered. "What's a 'glacier-ridge'? I've never seen +one. I can't deny it rhymes with 'bridge.' But don't go parading your +admiration of that person, Richard. Your father will speak to you on the +subject when he thinks fit." + +"I thought they had quarrelled," said Richard. "What a pity!" and he +murmured to a pleased ear: + + "Beauty's for the largest heart!" + +The flow of their conversation was interrupted by the entrance of +passengers at a station. Richard examined their faces with pleasure. All +faces pleased him. Human nature sat tributary at the feet of him and +his Golden Bride. As he could not well talk his thoughts before them, +he looked out at the windows, and enjoyed the changing landscape, +projecting all sorts of delights for his old friend Ripton, and musing +hazily on the wondrous things he was to do in the world; of the great +service he was to be to his fellow-creatures. In the midst of his +reveries he was landed in London. Tom Bakewell stood at the carriage +door. A glance told Richard that his squire had something curious on his +mind; and he gave Tom the word to speak out. Tom edged his master out of +hearing, and began sputtering a laugh. + +"Dash'd if I can help it, sir!" he said. "That young Tom! He've come to +town dressed that spicy! and he don't know his way about no more than a +stag. He's come to fetch somebody from another rail, and he don't know +how to get there, and he ain't sure about which rail 'tis. Look at him, +Mr. Richard! There he goes." + +Young Tom appeared to have the weight of all London on his beaver. + +"Who has he come for?" Richard asked. + +"Don't you know, sir? You don't like me to mention the name," mumbled +Tom, bursting to be perfectly intelligible. + +"Is it for her, Tom?" + +"Miss Lucy, sir." + +Richard turned away, and was seized by Hippias, who begged him to get +out of the noise and pother, and caught hold of his slack arm to bear +him into a conveyance; but Richard, by wheeling half to the right, +or left, always got his face round to the point where young Tom was +manoeuvring to appear at his ease. Even when they were seated in the +conveyance, Hippias could not persuade him to drive off. He made the +excuse that he did not wish to start till there was a clear road. +At last young Tom cast anchor by a policeman, and, doubtless at the +official's suggestion, bashfully took seat in a cab, and was shot into +the whirlpool of London. Richard then angrily asked his driver what he +was waiting for. + +"Are you ill, my boy?" said Hippias. "Where's your colour?" + +He laughed oddly, and made a random answer that he hoped the fellow +would drive fast. + +"I hate slow motion after being in the railway," he said. + +Hippias assured him there was something the matter with him. + +"Nothing, uncle! nothing!" said Richard, looking fiercely candid. + +They say, that when the skill and care of men rescue a drowned wretch +from extinction, and warm the flickering spirit into steady flame, such +pain it is, the blood forcing its way along the dry channels, and the +heavily-ticking nerves, and the sullen heart--the struggle of life and +death in him--grim death relaxing his gripe; such pain it is, he cries +out no thanks to them that pull him by inches from the depths of the +dead river. And he who has thought a love extinct, and is surprised +by the old fires, and the old tyranny, he rebels, and strives to fight +clear of the cloud of forgotten sensations that settle on him; such pain +it is, the old sweet music reviving through his frame, and the charm +of his passion filing him afresh. Still was fair Lucy the one woman to +Richard. He had forbidden her name but from an instinct of self-defence. +Must the maids of baser metal dominate him anew, it is in Lucy's shape. +Thinking of her now so near him--his darling! all her graces, her +sweetness, her truth; for, despite his bitter blame of her, he knew her +true--swam in a thousand visions before his eyes; visions pathetic, +and full of glory, that now wrung his heart, and now elated it. As well +might a ship attempt to calm the sea, as this young man the violent +emotion that began to rage in his breast. "I shall not see her!" he said +to himself exultingly, and at the same instant thought, how black +was every corner of the earth but that one spot where Lucy stood! how +utterly cheerless the place he was going to! Then he determined to bear +it; to live in darkness; there was a refuge in the idea of a voluntary +martyrdom. "For if I chose I could see her--this day within an hour!--I +could see her, and touch her hand, and, oh, heaven!--But I do not +choose." And a great wave swelled through him, and was crushed down only +to swell again more stormily. + +Then Tom Bakewell's words recurred to him that young Tom Blaize was +uncertain where to go for her, and that she might be thrown on this +Babylon alone. And flying from point to point, it struck him that they +had known at Raynham of her return, and had sent him to town to be out +of the way--they had been miserably plotting against him once more. +"They shall see what right they have to fear me. I'll shame them!" was +the first turn taken by his wrathful feelings, as he resolved to go, and +see her safe, and calmly return to his uncle, whom he sincerely believed +not to be one of the conspirators. Nevertheless, after forming that +resolve, he sat still, as if there were something fatal in the wheels +that bore him away from it--perhaps because he knew, as some do when +passion is lord, that his intelligence juggled with him; though none the +less keenly did he feel his wrongs and suspicions. His Golden Bride was +waning fast. But when Hippias ejaculated to cheer him: "We shall soon +be there!" the spell broke. Richard stopped the cab, saying he wanted to +speak to Tom, and would ride with him the rest of the journey. He knew +well enough which line of railway his Lucy must come by. He had studied +every town and station on the line. Before his uncle could express more +than a mute remonstrance, he jumped out and hailed Tom Bakewell, who +came behind with the boxes and baggage in a companion cab, his head a +yard beyond the window to make sure of his ark of safety, the vehicle +preceding. + +"What an extraordinary, impetuous boy it is," said Hippias. "We're in +the very street!" + +Within a minute the stalwart Berry, despatched by the baronet to arrange +everything for their comfort, had opened the door, and made his bow. + +"Mr. Richard, sir?--evaporated?" was Berry's modulated inquiry. + +"Behind--among the boxes, fool!" Hippias growled, as he received Berry's +muscular assistance to alight. "Lunch ready--eh!" + +"Luncheon was ordered precise at two o'clock, sir--been in attendance +one quarter of an hour. Heah!" Berry sang out to the second cab, which, +with its pyramid of luggage, remained stationary some thirty paces +distant. At his voice the majestic pile deliberately turned its back on +them, and went off in a contrary direction. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +On the stroke of the hour when Ripton Thompson was accustomed to +consult his gold watch for practical purposes, and sniff freedom and the +forthcoming dinner, a burglarious foot entered the clerk's office where +he sat, and a man of a scowling countenance, who looked a villain, and +whom he was afraid he knew, slid a letter into his hands, nodding that +it would be prudent for him to read, and be silent. Ripton obeyed in +alarm. Apparently the contents of the letter relieved his conscience; +for he reached down his hat, and told Mr. Beazley to inform his father +that he had business of pressing importance in the West, and should +meet him at the station. Mr. Beazley zealously waited upon the paternal +Thompson without delay, and together making their observations from the +window, they beheld a cab of many boxes, into which Ripton darted and +was followed by one in groom's dress. It was Saturday, the day when +Ripton gave up his law-readings, magnanimously to bestow himself upon +his family, and Mr. Thompson liked to have his son's arm as he walked +down to the station; but that third glass of Port which always stood for +his second, and the groom's suggestion of aristocratic acquaintances, +prevented Mr. Thompson from interfering: so Ripton was permitted to +depart. + +In the cab Ripton made a study of the letter he held. It had the +preciseness of an imperial mandate. + +"Dear Ripton,--You are to get lodgings for a lady immediately. Not a +word to a soul. Then come along with Tom. R.D.F." + +"Lodgings for a lady!" Ripton meditated aloud: "What sort of lodgings? +Where am I to get lodgings? Who's the lady?--I say!" he addressed the +mysterious messenger. "So you're Tom Bakewell, are you, Tom?" + +Tom grinned his identity. + +"Do you remember the rick, Tom? Ha! ha! We got out of that neatly. We +might all have been transported, though. I could have convicted you, +Tom, safe! It's no use coming across a practised lawyer. Now tell me." +Ripton having flourished his powers, commenced his examination: "Who's +this lady?" + +"Better wait till you see Mr. Richard, sir," Tom resumed his scowl to +reply. + +"Ah!" Ripton acquiesced. "Is she young, Tom?" + +Tom said she was not old. + +"Handsome, Tom?" + +"Some might think one thing, some another," Tom said. + +"And where does she come from now?" asked Ripton, with the friendly +cheerfulness of a baffled counsellor. + +"Comes from the country, sir." + +"A friend of the family, I suppose? a relation?" + +Ripton left this insinuating query to be answered by a look. Tom's face +was a dead blank. + +"Ah!" Ripton took a breath, and eyed the mask opposite him. "Why, you're +quite a scholar, Tom! Mr. Richard is well. All right at home?" + +"Come to town this mornin' with his uncle," said Tom. "All well, thank +ye, sir." + +"Ha!" cried Ripton, more than ever puzzled, "now I see. You all came to +town to-day, and these are your boxes outside. So, so! But Mr. Richard +writes for me to get lodgings for a lady. There must be some mistake--he +wrote in a hurry. He wants lodgings for you all--eh?" + +"'M sure I d'n know what he wants," said Tom. "You'd better go by the +letter, sir." + +Ripton re-consulted that document. "'Lodgings for a lady, and then come +along with Tom. Not a word to a soul.' I say! that looks like--but he +never cared for them. You don't mean to say, Tom, he's been running away +with anybody?" + +Tom fell back upon his first reply: "Better wait till ye see Mr. +Richard, sir," and Ripton exclaimed: "Hanged if you ain't the tightest +witness I ever saw! I shouldn't like to have you in a box. Some of you +country fellows beat any number of cockneys. You do!" + +Tom received the compliment stubbornly on his guard, and Ripton, as +nothing was to be got out of him, set about considering how to perform +his friend's injunctions; deciding firstly, that a lady fresh from the +country ought to lodge near the parks, in which direction he told the +cabman to drive. Thus, unaware of his high destiny, Ripton joined the +hero, and accepted his character in the New Comedy. + +It is, nevertheless, true that certain favoured people do have +beneficent omens to prepare them for their parts when the hero is in +full career, so that they really may be nerved to meet him; ay, and to +check him in his course, had they that signal courage. For instance, +Mrs. Elizabeth Berry, a ripe and wholesome landlady of advertised +lodgings, on the borders of Kensington, noted, as she sat rocking her +contemplative person before the parlour fire this very March afternoon, +a supernatural tendency in that fire to burn all on one side: which +signifies that a wedding approaches the house. Why--who shall say? Omens +are as impassable as heroes. It may be because in these affairs the fire +is thought to be all on one side. Enough that the omen exists, and spoke +its solemn warning to the devout woman. Mrs. Berry, in her circle, was +known as a certificated lecturer against the snares of matrimony. +Still that was no reason why she should not like a wedding. Expectant, +therefore, she watched the one glowing cheek of Hymen, and with pleasing +tremours beheld a cab of many boxes draw up by her bit of garden, and +a gentleman emerge from it in the set of consulting an advertisement +paper. The gentleman required lodgings for a lady. Lodgings for a lady +Mrs. Berry could produce, and a very roseate smile for a gentleman; +so much so that Ripton forgot to ask about the terms, which made the +landlady in Mrs. Berry leap up to embrace him as the happy man. But her +experienced woman's eye checked her enthusiasm. He had not the air of a +bridegroom: he did not seem to have a weight on his chest, or an itch +to twiddle everything with his fingers. At any rate, he was not the +bridegroom for whom omens fly abroad. Promising to have all ready +for the lady within an hour, Mrs. Berry fortified him with her card, +curtsied him back to his cab, and floated him off on her smiles. + +The remarkable vehicle which had woven this thread of intrigue through +London streets, now proceeded sedately to finish its operations. Ripton +was landed at a hotel in Westminster. Ere he was halfway up the stairs, +a door opened, and his old comrade in adventure rushed down. Richard +allowed no time for salutations. "Have you done it?" was all he asked. +For answer Ripton handed him Mrs. Berry's card. Richard took it, and +left him standing there. Five minutes elapsed, and then Ripton heard +the gracious rustle of feminine garments above. Richard came a little in +advance, leading and half-supporting a figure in a black-silk mantle and +small black straw bonnet; young--that was certain, though she held her +veil so close he could hardly catch the outlines of her face; girlishly +slender, and sweet and simple in appearance. The hush that came with +her, and her soft manner of moving, stirred the silly youth to some of +those ardours that awaken the Knight of Dames in our bosoms. He felt +that he would have given considerable sums for her to lift her veil. He +could see that she was trembling--perhaps weeping. It was the master of +her fate she clung to. They passed him without speaking. As she went +by, her head passively bent, Ripton had a glimpse of noble tresses and a +lovely neck; great golden curls hung loosely behind, pouring from under +her bonnet. She looked a captive borne to the sacrifice. What Ripton, +after a sight of those curls, would have given for her just to lift her +veil an instant and strike him blind with beauty, was, fortunately +for his exchequer, never demanded of him. And he had absolutely been +composing speeches as he came along in the cab! gallant speeches for +the lady, and sly congratulatory ones for his friend, to be delivered as +occasion should serve, that both might know him a man of the world, and +be at their ease. He forgot the smirking immoralities he had revelled +in. This was clearly serious. Ripton did not require to be told that +his friend was in love, and meant that life and death business called +marriage, parents and guardians consenting or not. + +Presently Richard returned to him, and said hurriedly, "I want you now +to go to my uncle at our hotel. Keep him quiet till I come. Say I had to +see you--say anything. I shall be there by the dinner hour. Rip! I must +talk to you alone after dinner." + +Ripton feebly attempted to reply that he was due at home. He was very +curious to hear the plot of the New Comedy; and besides, there was +Richard's face questioning him sternly and confidently for signs of +unhesitating obedience. He finished his grimaces by asking the name and +direction of the hotel. Richard pressed his hand. It is much to obtain +even that recognition of our devotion from the hero. + +Tom Bakewell also received his priming, and, to judge by his chuckles +and grins, rather appeared to enjoy the work cut out for him. In a few +minutes they had driven to their separate destinations; Ripton was left +to the unusual exercise of his fancy. Such is the nature of youth and +its thirst for romance, that only to act as a subordinate is pleasant. +When one unfurls the standard of defiance to parents and guardians, +he may be sure of raising a lawless troop of adolescent ruffians, born +rebels, to any amount. The beardless crew know that they have not a +chance of pay; but what of that when the rosy prospect of thwarting +their elders is in view? Though it is to see another eat the Forbidden +Fruit, they will run all his risks with him. Gaily Ripton took rank as +lieutenant in the enterprise, and the moment his heart had sworn the +oaths, he was rewarded by an exquisite sense of the charms of existence. +London streets wore a sly laugh to him. He walked with a dandified heel. +The generous youth ogled aristocratic carriages, and glanced intimately +at the ladies, overflowingly happy. The crossing-sweepers blessed +him. He hummed lively tunes, he turned over old jokes in his mouth +unctuously, he hugged himself, he had a mind to dance down Piccadilly, +and all because a friend of his was running away with a pretty girl, and +he was in the secret. + +It was only when he stood on the doorstep of Richard's hotel, that +his jocund mood was a little dashed by remembering that he had then to +commence the duties of his office, and must fabricate a plausible story +to account for what he knew nothing about--a part that the greatest of +sages would find it difficult to perform. The young, however, whom sages +well may envy, seldom fail in lifting their inventive faculties to the +level of their spirits, and two minutes of Hippias's angry complaints +against the friend he serenely inquired for, gave Ripton his cue. + +"We're in the very street--within a stone's-throw of the house, and he +jumps like a harlequin out of my cab into another; he must be +mad--that boy's got madness in him!--and carries off all the boxes--my +dinner-pills, too! and keeps away the whole of the day, though he +promised to go to the doctor, and had a dozen engagements with me," said +Hippias, venting an enraged snarl to sum up his grievances. + +Ripton at once told him that the doctor was not at home. + +"Why, you don't mean to say he's been to the doctor?" Hippias cried out. + +"He has called on him twice, sir," said Ripton, expressively. "On +leaving me he was going a third time. I shouldn't wonder that's what +detains him--he's so determined." + +By fine degrees Ripton ventured to grow circumstantial, saying that +Richard's case was urgent and required immediate medical advice; and +that both he and his father were of opinion Richard should not lose an +hour in obtaining it. + +"He's alarmed about himself," said Ripton, and tapped his chest. + +Hippias protested he had never heard a word from his nephew of any +physical affliction. + +"He was afraid of making you anxious, I think, sir." + +Algernon Feverel and Richard came in while he was hammering at the +alphabet to recollect the first letter of the doctor's name. They had +met in the hall below, and were laughing heartily as they entered the +room. Ripton jumped up to get the initiative. + +"Have you seen the doctor?" he asked, significantly plucking at +Richard's fingers. + +Richard was all abroad at the question. + +Algernon clapped him on the back. "What the deuce do you want with +doctor, boy?" + +The solid thump awakened him to see matters as they were. "Oh, ay! the +doctor!" he said, smiling frankly at his lieutenant. "Why, he tells me +he'd back me to do Milo's trick in a week from the present day.--Uncle," +he came forward to Hippias, "I hope you'll excuse me for running off as +I did. I was in a hurry. I left something at the railway. This stupid +Rip thinks I went to the doctor about myself. The fact was, I wanted to +fetch the doctor to see you here--so that you might have no trouble, you +know. You can't bear the sight of his instruments and skeletons--I've +heard you say so. You said it set all your marrow in revolt--'fried +your marrow,' I think were the words, and made you see twenty thousand +different ways of sliding down to the chambers of the Grim King. Don't +you remember?" + +Hippias emphatically did not remember, and he did not believe the +story. Irritation at the mad ravishment of his pill-box rendered him +incredulous. As he had no means of confuting his nephew, all he could do +safely to express his disbelief in him, was to utter petulant remarks +on his powerlessness to appear at the dinner-table that day: upon +which--Berry just then trumpeting dinner--Algernon seized one arm of the +Dyspepsy, and Richard another, and the laughing couple bore him into the +room where dinner was laid, Ripton sniggering in the rear, the really +happy man of the party. + +They had fun at the dinner-table. Richard would have it; and his gaiety, +his by-play, his princely superiority to truth and heroic promise of +overriding all our laws, his handsome face, the lord and possessor of +beauty that he looked, as it were a star shining on his forehead, gained +the old complete mastery over Ripton, who had been, mentally at least, +half patronizing him till then, because he knew more of London and life, +and was aware that his friend now depended upon him almost entirely. + +After a second circle of the claret, the hero caught his lieutenant's +eye across the table, and said: + +"We must go out and talk over that law-business, Rip, before you go. Do +you think the old lady has any chance?" + +"Not a bit!" said Ripton, authoritatively. + +"But it's worth fighting--eh, Rip?" + +"Oh, certainly!" was Ripton's mature opinion. + +Richard observed that Ripton's father seemed doubtful. Ripton cited +his father's habitual caution. Richard made a playful remark on the +necessity of sometimes acting in opposition to fathers. Ripton agreed to +it--in certain cases. + +"Yes, yes! in certain cases," said Richard. + +"Pretty legal morality, gentlemen!" Algernon interjected; Hippias +adding: "And lay, too!" + +The pair of uncles listened further to the fictitious dialogue, well +kept up on both sides, and in the end desired a statement of the old +lady's garrulous case; Hippias offering to decide what her chances were +in law, and Algernon to give a common-sense judgment. + +"Rip will tell you," said Richard, deferentially signalling the lawyer. +"I'm a bad hand at these matters. Tell them how it stands, Rip." + +Ripton disguised his excessive uneasiness under endeavours to right his +position on his chair, and, inwardly praying speed to the claret jug +to come and strengthen his wits, began with a careless aspect: +"Oh, nothing! She very curious old character! She--a--wears a wig. +She--a--very curious old character indeed! She--a--quite the old style. +There's no doing anything with her!" and Ripton took a long breath to +relieve himself after his elaborate fiction. + +"So it appears," Hippias commented, and Algernon asked: "Well? and about +her wig? Somebody stole it?" while Richard, whose features were grim +with suppressed laughter, bade the narrator continue. + +Ripton lunged for the claret jug. He had got an old lady like an +oppressive bundle on his brain, and he was as helpless as she was. In +the pangs of ineffectual authorship his ideas shot at her wig, and then +at her one characteristic of extreme obstinacy, and tore back again at +her wig, but she would not be animated. The obstinate old thing would +remain a bundle. Law studies seemed light in comparison with this +tremendous task of changing an old lady from a doll to a human creature. +He flung off some claret, perspired freely, and, with a mental tribute +to the cleverness of those author fellows, recommenced: "Oh, nothing! +She--Richard knows her better than I do--an old lady--somewhere down in +Suffolk. I think we had better advise her not to proceed. The expenses +of litigation are enormous! She--I think we had better advise her to +stop short, and not make any scandal." + +"And not make any scandal!" Algernon took him up. "Come, come! there's +something more than a wig, then?" + +Ripton was commanded to proceed, whether she did or no. The luckless +fictionist looked straight at his pitiless leader, and blurted out +dubiously, "She--there's a daughter." + +"Born with effort!" ejaculated Hippias. "Must give her pause after that! +and I'll take the opportunity to stretch my length on the sofa. Heigho! +that's true what Austin says: 'The general prayer should be for a full +stomach, and the individual for one that works well; for on that basis +only are we a match for temporal matters, and able to contemplate +eternal.' Sententious, but true. I gave him the idea, though! Take care +of your stomachs, boys! and if ever you hear of a monument proposed to +a scientific cook or gastronomic doctor, send in your subscriptions. Or +say to him while he lives, Go forth, and be a Knight! Ha! They have +a good cook at this house. He suits me better than ours at Raynham. I +almost wish I had brought my manuscript to town, I feel so much better. +Aha! I didn't expect to digest at all without my regular incentive. +I think I shall give it up.--What do you say to the theatre to-night, +boys!" + +Richard shouted, "Bravo, uncle!" + +"Let Mr. Thompson finish first," said Algernon. "I want to hear the +conclusion of the story. The old girl has a wig and a daughter. I'll +swear somebody runs away with one of the two! Fill your glass, Mr. +Thompson, and forward!" + +"So somebody does," Ripton received his impetus. "And they're found +in town together," he made a fresh jerk. "She--a--that is, the old +lady--found them in company." + +"She finds him with her wig on in company!" said Algernon. "Capital! +Here's matter for the lawyers!" + +"And you advise her not to proceed, under such circumstances of +aggravation?" Hippias observed, humorously twinkling with his stomachic +contentment. + +"It's the daughter," Ripton sighed, and surrendering to pressure, +hurried on recklessly, "A runaway match--beautiful girl!--the only +son of a baronet--married by special licence. A--the point is," he now +brightened and spoke from his own element, "the point is whether the +marriage can be annulled, as she's of the Catholic persuasion and he's a +Protestant, and they're both married under age. That's the point." + +Having come to the point he breathed extreme relief, and saw things more +distinctly; not a little amazed at his leader's horrified face. + +The two elders were making various absurd inquiries, when Richard sent +his chair to the floor, crying, "What a muddle you're in, Rip! You're +mixing half-a-dozen stories together. The old lady I told you about was +old Dame Bakewell, and the dispute was concerning a neighbour of hers +who encroached on her garden, and I said I'd pay the money to see her +righted!" + +"Ah," said Ripton, humbly, "I was thinking of the other. Her garden! +Cabbages don't interest me"-- + +"Here, come along," Richard beckoned to him savagely. "I'll be back in +five minutes, uncle," he nodded coolly to either. + +The young men left the room. In the hall-passage they met Berry, dressed +to return to Raynham. Richard dropped a helper to the intelligence +into his hand, and warned him not to gossip much of London. Berry bowed +perfect discreetness. + +"What on earth induced you to talk about Protestants and Catholics +marrying, Rip?" said Richard, as soon as they were in the street. + +"Why," Ripton answered, "I was so hard pushed for it, 'pon my honour, +I didn't know what to say. I ain't an author, you know; I can't make +a story. I was trying to invent a point, and I couldn't think of any +other, and I thought that was just the point likely to make a jolly good +dispute. Capital dinners they give at those crack hotels. Why did you +throw it all upon me? I didn't begin on the old lady." + +The hero mused, "It's odd! It's impossible you could have known! I'll +tell you why, Rip! I wanted to try you. You fib well at long range, but +you don't do at close quarters and single combat. You're good behind +walls, but not worth a shot in the open. I just see what you're fit for. +You're staunch--that I am certain of. You always were. Lead the way to +one of the parks--down in that direction. You know?--where she is!" + +Ripton led the way. His dinner had prepared this young Englishman to +defy the whole artillery of established morals. With the muffled roar of +London around them, alone in a dark slope of green, the hero, leaning +on his henchman, and speaking in a harsh clear undertone, delivered his +explanations. Doubtless the true heroic insignia and point of view will +be discerned, albeit in common private's uniform. + +"They've been plotting against me for a year, Rip! When you see her, +you'll know what it was to have such a creature taken away from you. +It nearly killed me. Never mind what she is. She's the most perfect and +noble creature God ever made! It's not only her beauty--I don't care so +much about that!--but when you've once seen her, she seems to draw music +from all the nerves of your body; but she's such an angel. I worship +her. And her mind's like her face. She's pure gold. There, you'll see +her to-night. + +"Well," he pursued, after inflating Ripton with this rapturous prospect, +"they got her away, and I recovered. It was Mister Adrian's work. What's +my father's objection to her? Because of her birth? She's educated; her +manners are beautiful--full of refinement--quick and soft! Can they +show me one of their ladies like her?--she's the daughter of a naval +lieutenant! Because she's a Catholic? What has religion to do with"--he +pronounced "Love!" a little modestly--as it were a blush in his voice. + +"Well, when I recovered I thought I did not care for her. It shows how +we know ourselves! And I cared for nothing. I felt as if I had no blood. +I tried to imitate my dear Austin. I wish to God he were here. I +love Austin. He would understand her. He's coming back this year, and +then--but it'll be too late then.--Well, my father's always scheming to +make me perfect--he has never spoken to me a word about her, but I can +see her in his eyes--he wanted to give me a change, he said, and asked +me to come to town with my uncle Hippy, and I consented. It was another +plot to get me out of the way! As I live, I had no more idea of meeting +her than of flying to heaven!" + +He lifted his face. "Look at those old elm branches! How they seem to +mix among the stars!--glittering fruits of Winter!" + +Ripton tipped his comical nose upward, and was in duty bound to say, +Yes! though he observed no connection between them and the narrative. + +"Well," the hero went on, "I came to town. There I heard she was coming, +too--coming home. It must have been fate, Ripton! Heaven forgive me! I +was angry with her, and I thought I should like to see her once--only +once--and reproach her for being false--for she never wrote to me. And, +oh, the dear angel! what she must have suffered!--I gave my uncle the +slip, and got to the railway she was coming by. There was a fellow going +to meet her--a farmer's son--and, good God! they were going to try and +make her marry him! I remembered it all then. A servant of the farm had +told me. That fellow went to the wrong station, I suppose, for we saw +nothing of him. There she was--not changed a bit!--looking lovelier than +ever! And when she saw me, I knew in a minute that she must love me +till death!--You don't know what it is yet, Rip!--Will you believe, +it?--Though I was as sure she loved me and had been true as steel, as +that I shall see her to-night, I spoke bitterly to her. And she bore it +meekly--she looked like a saint. I told her there was but one hope of +life for me--she must prove she was true, and as I give up all, so must +she. I don't know what I said. The thought of losing her made me mad. +She tried to plead with me to wait--it was for my sake, I know. I +pretended, like a miserable hypocrite, that she did not love me at all. +I think I said shameful things. Oh what noble creatures women are! She +hardly had strength to move. I took her to that place where you found +us, Rip! she went down on her knees to me, I never dreamed of anything +in life so lovely as she looked then. Her eyes were thrown up, bright +with a crowd of tears--her dark brows bent together, like Pain and +Beauty meeting in one; and her glorious golden hair swept off her +shoulders as she hung forward to my hands.--Could I lose such a +prize.--If anything could have persuaded me, would not that?--I thought +of Dante's Madonna--Guido's Magdalen.--Is there sin in it? I see none! +And if there is, it's all mine! I swear she's spotless of a thought of +sin. I see her very soul? Cease to love her? Who dares ask me? Cease to +love her? Why, I live on her!--To see her little chin straining up from +her throat, as she knelt to me!--there was one curl that fell across her +throat".... + +Ripton listened for more. Richard had gone off in a muse at the picture. + +"Well?" said Ripton, "and how about that young farmer fellow?" + +The hero's head was again contemplating the starry branches. His +lieutenant's question came to him after an interval. + +"Young Tom? Why, it's young Torn Blaize--son of our old enemy, Rip! I +like the old man now. Oh! I saw nothing of the fellow." + +"Lord!" cried Ripton, "are we going to get into a mess with Blaizes +again? I don't like that!" + +His commander quietly passed his likes or dislikes. + +"But when he goes to the train, and finds she's not there?" Ripton +suggested. + +"I've provided for that. The fool went to the South-east instead of the +South-west. All warmth, all sweetness, comes with the South-west!--I've +provided for that, friend Rip. My trusty Tom awaits him there, as if by +accident. He tells him he has not seen her, and advises him to remain +in town, and go for her there to-morrow, and the day following. Tom has +money for the work. Young Tom ought to see London, you know, Rip!--like +you. We shall gain some good clear days. And when old Blaize hears of +it--what then? I have her! she's mine!--Besides, he won't hear for a +week. This Tom beats that Tom in cunning, I'll wager. Ha! ha!" the hero +burst out at a recollection. "What do you think, Rip? My father has some +sort of System with me, it appears, and when I came to town the time +before, he took me to some people--the Grandisons--and what do you +think? one of the daughters is a little girl--a nice little thing enough +very funny--and he wants me to wait for her! He hasn't said so, but I +know it. I know what he means. Nobody understands him but me. I know he +loves me, and is one of the best of men--but just consider!--a little +girl who just comes up to my elbow. Isn't it ridiculous? Did you ever +hear such nonsense?" + +Ripton emphasized his opinion that it certainly was foolish. + +"No, no! The die's cast!" said Richard. "They've been plotting for a +year up to this day, and this is what comes of it! If my father loves +me, he will love her. And if he loves me, he'll forgive my acting +against his wishes, and see it was the only thing to be done. Come! step +out! what a time we've been!" and away he went, compelling Ripton to the +sort of strides a drummer-boy has to take beside a column of grenadiers. + +Ripton began to wish himself in love, seeing that it endowed a man with +wind so that he could breathe great sighs, while going at a tremendous +pace, and experience no sensation of fatigue. The hero was communing +with the elements, his familiars, and allowed him to pant as he pleased. +Some keen-eyed Kensington urchins, noticing the discrepancy between the +pedestrian powers of the two, aimed their wit at Mr. Thompson junior's +expense. The pace, and nothing but the pace, induced Ripton to proclaim +that they had gone too far, when they discovered that they had over shot +the mark by half a mile. In the street over which stood love's star, the +hero thundered his presence at a door, and evoked a flying housemaid, +who knew not Mrs. Berry. The hero attached significance to the fact that +his instincts should have betrayed him, for he could have sworn to that +house. The door being shut he stood in dead silence. + +"Haven't you got her card?" Ripton inquired, and heard that it was in +the custody of the cabman. Neither of them could positively bring to +mind the number of the house. + +"You ought to have chalked it, like that fellow in the Forty Thieves," +Ripton hazarded a pleasantry which met with no response. + +Betrayed by his instincts, the magic slaves of Love! The hero heavily +descended the steps. + +Ripton murmured that they were done for. His commander turned on him, +and said: "Take all the houses on the opposite side, one after another. +I'll take these." With a wry face Ripton crossed the road, altogether +subdued by Richard's native superiority to adverse circumstances. + +Then were families aroused. Then did mortals dimly guess that something +portentous was abroad. Then were labourers all day in the vineyard, +harshly wakened from their evening's nap. Hope and Fear stalked the +street, as again and again the loud companion summonses resounded. +Finally Ripton sang out cheerfully. He had Mrs. Berry before him, +profuse of mellow curtsies. + +Richard ran to her and caught her hands: "She's well?--upstairs?" + +"Oh, quite well! only a trifle tired with her journey, and +fluttering-like," Mrs. Berry replied to Ripton alone. The lover had +flown aloft. + +The wise woman sagely ushered Ripton into her own private parlour, there +to wait till he was wanted. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +"In all cases where two have joined to commit an offence, punish one of +the two lightly," is the dictum of The Pilgrim's's Scrip. + +It is possible for young heads to conceive proper plans of action, and +occasionally, by sheer force of will, to check the wild horses that +are ever fretting to gallop off with them. But when they have given the +reins and the whip to another, what are they to do? They may go down +on their knees, and beg and pray the furious charioteer to stop, or +moderate his pace. Alas! each fresh thing they do redoubles his ardour: +There is a power in their troubled beauty women learn the use of, and +what wonder? They have seen it kindle Ilium to flames so often! But ere +they grow matronly in the house of Menelaus, they weep, and implore, +and do not, in truth, know how terribly two-edged is their gift of +loveliness. They resign themselves to an incomprehensible frenzy; +pleasant to them, because they attribute it to excessive love. And so +the very sensible things which they can and do say, are vain. + +I reckon it absurd to ask them to be quite in earnest. Are not those +their own horses in yonder team? Certainly, if they were quite in +earnest, they might soon have my gentleman as sober as a carter. A +hundred different ways of disenchanting him exist, and Adrian will point +you out one or two that shall be instantly efficacious. For Love, the +charioteer, is easily tripped, while honest jog-trot Love keeps his legs +to the end. Granted dear women are not quite in earnest, still the mere +words they utter should be put to their good account. They do mean them, +though their hearts are set the wrong way. 'Tis a despairing, pathetic +homage to the judgment of the majority, in whose faces they are flying. +Punish Helen, very young, lightly. After a certain age you may select +her for special chastisement. An innocent with Theseus, with Paris she +is an advanced incendiary. + +The fair young girl was sitting as her lover had left her; trying to +recall her stunned senses. Her bonnet was un-removed, her hands clasped +on her knees; dry tears in her eyes. Like a dutiful slave, she rose to +him. And first he claimed her mouth. There was a speech, made up of +all the pretty wisdom her wild situation and true love could gather, +awaiting him there; but his kiss scattered it to fragments. She dropped +to her seat weeping, and hiding her shamed cheeks. + +By his silence she divined his thoughts, and took his hand and drew it +to her lips. + +He bent beside her, bidding her look at him. + +"Keep your eyes so." + +She could not. + +"Do you fear me, Lucy?" + +A throbbing pressure answered him. + +"Do you love me, darling?" + +She trembled from head to foot. + +"Then why do you turn from me?" + +She wept: "O Richard, take me home! take me home!" + +"Look at me, Lucy!" + +Her head shrank timidly round. + +"Keep your eyes on me, darling! Now speak!" + +But she could not look and speak too. The lover knew his mastery when he +had her eyes. + +"You wish me to take you home?" + +She faltered: "O Richard? it is not too late." + +"You regret what you have done for me?" + +"Dearest! it is ruin." + +"You weep because you have consented to be mine?" + +"Not for me! O Richard!" + +"For me you weep? Look at me! For me?" + +"How will it end! O Richard!" + +"You weep for me?" + +"Dearest! I would die for you!" + +"Would you see me indifferent to everything in the world? Would you have +me lost? Do you think I will live another day in England without you? I +have staked all I have on you, Lucy. You have nearly killed me once. +A second time, and the earth will not be troubled by me. You ask me to +wait, when they are plotting against us on all sides? Darling Lucy! look +on me. Fix--your fond eyes on me. You ask me to wait when here you are +given to me when you have proved my faith--when we know we love as none +have loved. Give me your eyes! Let them tell me I have your heart!" + +Where was her wise little speech? How could she match such mighty +eloquence? She sought to collect a few more of the scattered fragments. + +"Dearest! your father may be brought to consent by and by, and then--oh! +if you take me home now"-- + +The lover stood up. "He who has been arranging that fine scheme to +disgrace and martyrize you? True, as I live! that's the reason of their +having you back. Your old servant heard him and your uncle discussing +it. He!--Lucy! he's a good man, but he must not step in between you and +me. I say God has given you to me." + +He was down by her side again, his arms enfolding her. + +She had hoped to fight a better battle than in the morning, and she was +weaker and softer. + +Ah! why should she doubt that his great love was the first law to her? +Why should she not believe that she would wreck him by resisting? And if +she suffered, oh sweet to think it was for his sake! Sweet to shut out +wisdom; accept total blindness, and be led by him! + +The hag Wisdom annoyed them little further. She rustled her garments +ominously, and vanished. + +"Oh, my own Richard!" the fair girl just breathed. + +He whispered, "Call me that name." + +She blushed deeply. + +"Call me that name," he repeated. "You said it once today." + +"Dearest!" + +"Not that." + +"O darling!" + +"Not that." + +"Husband!" + +She was won. The rosy gate from which the word had issued was closed +with a seal. + +Ripton did not enjoy his introduction to the caged bird of beauty +that night. He received a lesson in the art of pumping from the worthy +landlady below, up to an hour when she yawned, and he blinked, and +their common candle wore with dignity the brigand's hat of midnight, and +cocked a drunken eye at them from under it. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +Beauty, of course, is for the hero. Nevertheless, it is not always he +on whom beauty works its most conquering influence. It is the dull +commonplace man into whose slow brain she drops like a celestial light, +and burns lastingly. The poet, for instance, is a connoisseur of beauty: +to the artist she is a model. These gentlemen by much contemplation of +her charms wax critical. The days when they had hearts being gone, they +are haply divided between the blonde and the brunette; the aquiline nose +and the Proserpine; this shaped eye and that. But go about among simple +unprofessional fellows, boors, dunderheads, and here and there you shall +find some barbarous intelligence which has had just strength enough to +conceive, and has taken Beauty as its Goddess, and knows but one form +to worship, in its poor stupid fashion, and would perish for her. Nay, +more: the man would devote all his days to her, though he is dumb as a +dog. And, indeed, he is Beauty's Dog. Almost every Beauty has her Dog. +The hero possesses her; the poet proclaims her; the painter puts her +upon canvas; and the faithful Old Dog follows her: and the end of it +all is that the faithful Old Dog is her single attendant. Sir Hero +is revelling in the wars, or in Armida's bowers; Mr. Poet has spied a +wrinkle; the brush is for the rose in its season. She turns to her Old +Dog then. She hugs him; and he, who has subsisted on a bone and a pat +till there he squats decrepit, he turns his grateful old eyes up to +her, and has not a notion that she is hugging sad memories in him: Hero, +Poet, Painter, in one scrubby one! Then is she buried, and the village +hears languid howls, and there is a paragraph in the newspapers +concerning the extraordinary fidelity of an Old Dog. + +Excited by suggestive recollections of Nooredeen and the Fair Persian, +and the change in the obscure monotony of his life by his having +quarters in a crack hotel, and living familiarly with West-End +people--living on the fat of the land (which forms a stout portion of an +honest youth's romance), Ripton Thompson breakfasted next morning with +his chief at half-past eight. The meal had been fixed overnight for +seven, but Ripton slept a great deal more than the nightingale, and (to +chronicle his exact state) even half-past eight rather afflicted his new +aristocratic senses and reminded him too keenly of law and bondage. He +had preferred to breakfast at Algernon's hour, who had left word for +eleven. Him, however, it was Richard's object to avoid, so they fell +to, and Ripton no longer envied Hippias in bed. Breakfast done, they +bequeathed the consoling information for Algernon that they were off to +hear a popular preacher, and departed. + +"How happy everybody looks!" said Richard, in the quiet Sunday streets. + +"Yes--jolly!" said Ripton. + +"When I'm--when this is over, I'll see that they are, too--as many as I +can make happy," said the hero; adding softly: "Her blind was down at a +quarter to six. I think she slept well!" + +"You've been there this morning?" Ripton exclaimed; and an idea of what +love was dawned upon his dull brain. + +"Will she see me, Ricky?" + +"Yes. She'll see you to-day. She was tired last night." + +"Positively?" + +Richard assured him that the privilege would be his. + +"Here," he said, coming under some trees in the park, "here's where I +talked to you last night. What a time it seems! How I hate the night!" + +On the way, that Richard might have an exalted opinion of him, Ripton +hinted decorously at a somewhat intimate and mysterious acquaintance +with the sex. Headings of certain random adventures he gave. + +"Well!" said his chief, "why not marry her?" + +Then was Ripton shocked, and cried, "Oh!" and had a taste of the feeling +of superiority, destined that day to be crushed utterly. + +He was again deposited in Mrs. Berry's charge for a term that caused him +dismal fears that the Fair Persian still refused to show her face, +but Richard called out to him, and up Ripton went, unaware of the +transformation he was to undergo. Hero and Beauty stood together to +receive him. From the bottom of the stairs he had his vivaciously +agreeable smile ready for them, and by the time he entered the room +his cheeks were painfully stiff, and his eyes had strained beyond their +exact meaning. Lucy, with one hand anchored to her lover, welcomed him +kindly. He relieved her shyness by looking so extremely silly. They sat +down, and tried to commence a conversation, but Ripton was as little +master of his tongue as he was of his eyes. After an interval, the Fair +Persian having done duty by showing herself, was glad to quit the room. +Her lord and possessor then turned inquiringly to Ripton. + +"You don't wonder now, Rip?" he said. + +"No, Richard!" Ripton waited to reply with sufficient solemnity, "indeed +I don't!" + +He spoke differently; he looked differently. He had the Old Dog's eyes +in his head. They watched the door she had passed through; they listened +for her, as dogs' eyes do. When she came in, bonneted for a walk, his +agitation was dog-like. When she hung on her lover timidly, and went +forth, he followed without an idea of envy, or anything save the secret +raptures the sight of her gave him, which are the Old Dog's own. For +beneficent Nature requites him: His sensations cannot be heroic, but +they have a fulness and a wagging delight as good in their way. And this +capacity for humble unaspiring worship has its peculiar guerdon. When +Ripton comes to think of Miss Random now, what will he think of himself? +Let no one despise the Old Dog. Through him doth Beauty vindicate her +sex. + +It did not please Ripton that others should have the bliss of beholding +her, and as, to his perceptions, everybody did, and observed her +offensively, and stared, and turned their heads back, and interchanged +comments on her, and became in a minute madly in love with her, he +had to smother low growls. They strolled about the pleasant gardens of +Kensington all the morning, under the young chestnut buds, and round +the windless waters, talking, and soothing the wild excitement of their +hearts. If Lucy spoke, Ripton pricked up his ears. She, too, made the +remark that everybody seemed to look happy, and he heard it with thrills +of joy. "So everybody is, where you are!" he would have wished to say, +if he dared, but was restrained by fears that his burning eloquence +would commit him. Ripton knew the people he met twice. It would have +been difficult to persuade him they were the creatures of accident. + +From the Gardens, in contempt of Ripton's frowned protest, Richard +boldly struck into the park, where solitary carriages were beginning to +perform the circuit. Here Ripton had some justification for his jealous +pangs. The young girl's golden locks of hair; her sweet, now dreamily +sad, face; her gentle graceful figure in the black straight dress she +wore; a sort of half-conventual air she had--a mark of something not +of class, that was partly beauty's, partly maiden innocence growing +conscious, partly remorse at her weakness and dim fear of the future it +was sowing--did attract the eye-glasses. Ripton had to learn that eyes +are bearable, but eye-glasses an abomination. They fixed a spell upon +his courage; for somehow the youth had always ranked them as emblems +of our nobility, and hearing two exquisite eye-glasses, who had been to +front and rear several times, drawl in gibberish generally imputed to +lords, that his heroine was a charming little creature, just the size, +but had no style,--he was abashed; he did not fly at them and tear +them. He became dejected. Beauty's dog is affected by the eye-glass in a +manner not unlike the common animal's terror of the human eye. + +Richard appeared to hear nothing, or it was homage that he heard. He +repeated to Lucy Diaper Sandoe's verses-- + + "The cockneys nod to each other aside, + The coxcombs lift their glasses," + +and projected hiring a horse for her to ride every day in the park, and +shine among the highest. + +They had turned to the West, against the sky glittering through the +bare trees across the water, and the bright-edged rack. The lover, his +imagination just then occupied in clothing earthly glories in celestial, +felt where his senses were sharpest the hand of his darling falter, and +instinctively looked ahead. His uncle Algernon was leisurely jolting +towards them on his one sound leg. The dismembered Guardsman talked to a +friend whose arm supported him, and speculated from time to time on +the fair ladies driving by. The two white faces passed him unobserved. +Unfortunately Ripton, coming behind, went plump upon the Captain's live +toe--or so he pretended, crying, "Confound it, Mr. Thompson! you might +have chosen the other." + +The horrible apparition did confound Ripton, who stammered that it was +extraordinary. + +"Not at all," said Algernon. "Everybody makes up to that fellow. +Instinct, I suppose!" + +He had not to ask for his nephew. Richard turned to face the matter. + +"Sorry I couldn't wait for you this morning, uncle," he said, with the +coolness of relationship. "I thought you never walked so far." + +His voice was in perfect tone--the heroic mask admirable. + +Algernon examined the downcast visage at his side, and contrived to +allude to the popular preacher. He was instantly introduced to Ripton's +sister, Miss Thompson. + +The Captain bowed, smiling melancholy approval of his nephew's choice +of a minister. After a few stray remarks, and an affable salute to Miss +Thompson, he hobbled away, and then the three sealed volcanoes breathed, +and Lucy's arm ceased to be squeezed quite so much up to the heroic +pitch. + +This incident quickened their steps homeward to the sheltering wings +of Mrs. Berry. All that passed between them on the subject comprised +a stammered excuse from Ripton for his conduct, and a good-humoured +rejoinder from Richard, that he had gained a sister by it: at which +Ripton ventured to wish aloud Miss Desborough would only think so, and +a faint smile twitched poor Lucy's lips to please him. She hardly had +strength to reach her cage. She had none to eat of Mrs. Berry's nice +little dinner. To be alone, that she might cry and ease her heart of +its accusing weight of tears, was all she prayed for. Kind Mrs. Berry, +slipping into her bedroom to take off her things, found the fair body in +a fevered shudder, and finished by undressing her completely and putting +her to bed. + +"Just an hour's sleep, or so," the mellifluous woman explained the case +to the two anxious gentlemen. "A quiet sleep and a cup of warm tea goes +for more than twenty doctors, it do--when there's the flutters," she +pursued. "I know it by myself. And a good cry beforehand's better than +the best of medicine." + +She nursed them into a make-believe of eating, and retired to her softer +charge and sweeter babe, reflecting, "Lord! Lord! the three of 'em don't +make fifty! I'm as old as two and a half of 'em, to say the least." Mrs. +Berry used her apron, and by virtue of their tender years took them all +three into her heart. + +Left alone, neither of the young men could swallow a morsel. + +"Did you see the change come over her?" Richard whispered. + +Ripton fiercely accused his prodigious stupidity. + +The lover flung down his knife and fork: "What could I do? If I had said +nothing, we should have been suspected. I was obliged to speak. And she +hates a lie! See! it has struck her down. God forgive me!" + +Ripton affected a serene mind: "It was a fright, Richard," he said. +"That's what Mrs. Berry means by flutters. Those old women talk in that +way. You heard what she said. And these old women know. I'll tell you +what it is. It's this, Richard!--it's because you've got a fool for your +friend!" + +"She regrets it," muttered the lover. "Good God! I think she fears me." +He dropped his face in his hands. + +Ripton went to the window, repeating energetically for his comfort: +"It's because you've got a fool for your friend!" + +Sombre grew the street they had last night aroused. The sun was buried +alive in cloud. Ripton saw himself no more in the opposite window. He +watched the deplorable objects passing on the pavement. His aristocratic +visions had gone like his breakfast. Beauty had been struck down by his +egregious folly, and there he stood--a wretch! + +Richard came to him: "Don't mumble on like that, Rip!" he said. "Nobody +blames you." + +"Ah! you're very kind, Richard," interposed the wretch, moved at the +face of misery he beheld. + +"Listen to me, Rip! I shall take her home to-night. Yes! If she's +happier away from me!--do you think me a brute, Ripton? Rather than have +her shed a tear, I'd!--I'll take her home to-night!" + +Ripton suggested that it was sudden; adding from his larger experience, +people perhaps might talk. + +The lover could not understand what they should talk about, but he said: +"If I give him who came for her yesterday the clue? If no one sees or +hears of me, what can they say? O Rip! I'll give her up. I'm wrecked +for ever! What of that? Yes--let them take her! The world in arms should +never have torn her from me, but when she cries--Yes! all's over. I'll +find him at once." + +He searched in out-of-the-way corners for the hat of resolve. Ripton +looked on, wretcheder than ever. + +The idea struck him:--"Suppose, Richard, she doesn't want to go?" + +It was a moment when, perhaps, one who sided with parents and guardians +and the old wise world, might have inclined them to pursue their +righteous wretched course, and have given small Cupid a smack and +sent him home to his naughty Mother. Alas!(it is The Pilgrim's Scrip +interjecting) women are the born accomplices of mischief! In bustles +Mrs. Berry to clear away the refection, and finds the two knights +helmed, and sees, though 'tis dusk, that they wear doubtful brows, and +guesses bad things for her dear God Hymen in a twinkling. + +"Dear! dear!" she exclaimed, "and neither of you eaten a scrap! And +there's my dear young lady off into the prettiest sleep you ever see!" + +"Ha?" cried the lover, illuminated. + +"Soft as a baby!" Mrs. Berry averred. "I went to look at her this very +moment, and there's not a bit of trouble in her breath. It come and it +go like the sweetest regular instrument ever made. The Black Ox haven't +trod on her foot yet! Most like it was the air of London. But only +fancy, if you had called in a doctor! Why, I shouldn't have let her take +any of his quackery. Now, there!" + +Ripton attentively observed his chief, and saw him doff his hat with +a curious caution, and peer into its recess, from which, during Mrs. +Berry's speech, he drew forth a little glove--dropped there by some +freak of chance. + +"Keep me, keep me, now you have me!" sang the little glove, and amused +the lover with a thousand conceits. + +"When will she wake, do you think, Mrs. Berry?" he asked. + +"Oh! we mustn't go for disturbing her," said the guileful good creature. +"Bless ye! let her sleep it out. And if you young gentlemen was to +take my advice, and go and take a walk for to get a appetite--everybody +should eat! it's their sacred duty, no matter what their feelings +be! and I say it who'm no chicken!--I'll frickashee this--which is a +chicken--against your return. I'm a cook, I can assure ye!" + +The lover seized her two hands. "You're the best old soul in the world!" +he cried. Mrs. Berry appeared willing to kiss him. "We won't disturb +her. Let her sleep. Keep her in bed, Mrs. Berry. Will you? And we'll +call to inquire after her this evening, and come and see her to-morrow. +I'm sure you'll be kind to her. There! there!" Mrs. Berry was preparing +to whimper. "I trust her to you, you see. Good-bye, you dear old soul." + +He smuggled a handful of gold into her keeping, and went to dine with +his uncles, happy and hungry. + +Before they reached the hotel, they had agreed to draw Mrs. Berry into +their confidence, telling her (with embellishments) all save their +names, so that they might enjoy the counsel and assistance of that trump +of a woman, and yet have nothing to fear from her. Lucy was to receive +the name of Letitia, Ripton's youngest and best-looking sister. The +heartless fellow proposed it in cruel mockery of an old weakness of +hers. + +"Letitia!" mused Richard. "I like the name. Both begin with L. There's +something soft--womanlike--in the L.'s." + +Material Ripton remarked that they looked like pounds on paper. The +lover roamed through his golden groves. "Lucy Feverel! that sounds +better! I wonder where Ralph is. I should like to help him. He's in love +with my cousin Clare. He'll never do anything till he marries. No man +can. I'm going to do a hundred things when it's over. We shall travel +first. I want to see the Alps. One doesn't know what the earth is till +one has seen the Alps. What a delight it will be to her! I fancy I see +her eyes gazing up at them. + + 'And oh, your dear blue eyes, that heavenward glance + With kindred beauty, banished humbleness, + Past weeping for mortality's distress-- + Yet from your soul a tear hangs there in trance. + And fills, but does not fall; + Softly I hear it call + At heaven's gate, till Sister Seraphs press + To look on you their old love from the skies: + Those are the eyes of Seraphs bright on your blue eyes! + +"Beautiful! These lines, Rip, were written by a man who was once a +friend of my father's. I intend to find him and make them friends again. +You don't care for poetry. It's no use your trying to swallow it, Rip!" + +"It sounds very nice," said Ripton, modestly shutting his mouth. + +"The Alps! Italy! Rome! and then I shall go to the East," the hero +continued. "She's ready to go anywhere with me, the dear brave heart! +Oh, the glorious golden East! I dream of the desert. I dream I'm chief +of an Arab tribe, and we fly all white in the moonlight on our mares, +and hurry to the rescue of my darling! And we push the spears, and we +scatter them, and I come to the tent where she crouches, and catch her +to my saddle, and away!--Rip! what a life!" + +Ripton strove to imagine he could enjoy it. + +"And then we shall come home, and I shall lead Austin's life, with her +to help me. First be virtuous, Rip! and then serve your country heart +and soul. A wise man told me that. I think I shall do something." + +Sunshine and cloud, cloud and sunshine, passed over the lover. Now +life was a narrow ring; now the distances extended, were winged, flew +illimitably. An hour ago and food was hateful. Now he manfully refreshed +his nature, and joined in Algernon's encomiums on Miss Letitia Thompson. + +Meantime Beauty slept, watched by the veteran volunteer of the hero's +band. Lucy awoke from dreams which seemed reality, to the reality which +was a dream. She awoke calling for some friend, "Margaret!" and heard +one say, "My name is Bessy Berry, my love! not Margaret." Then she asked +piteously where she was, and where was Margaret, her dear friend, and +Mrs. Berry whispered, "Sure you've got a dearer!" + +"Ah!" sighed Lucy, sinking on her pillow, overwhelmed by the strangeness +of her state. + +Mrs. Berry closed the frill of her nightgown and adjusted the bedclothes +quietly. + +Her name was breathed. + +"Yes, my love?" she said. + +"Is he here?" + +"He's gone, my dear." + +"Gone?--Oh, where?" The young girl started up in disorder. + +"Gone, to be back, my love! Ah! that young gentleman!" Mrs. Berry +chanted: "Not a morsel have he eat; not a drop have he drunk!" + +"O Mrs. Berry! why did you not make him?" Lucy wept for the +famine-struck hero, who was just then feeding mightily. + +Mrs. Berry explained that to make one eat who thought the darling of his +heart like to die, was a sheer impossibility for the cleverest of women; +and on this deep truth Lucy reflected, with her eyes wide at the candle. +She wanted one to pour her feelings out to. She slid her hand from under +the bedclothes, and took Mrs. Berry's, and kissed it. The good creature +required no further avowal of her secret, but forthwith leaned her +consummate bosom to the pillow, and petitioned heaven to bless them +both!--Then the little bride was alarmed, and wondered how Mrs. Berry +could have guessed it. + +"Why," said Mrs. Berry, "your love is out of your eyes, and out of +everything ye do." And the little bride wondered more. She thought she +had been so very cautious not to betray it. The common woman in them +made cheer together after their own April fashion. Following which Mrs. +Berry probed for the sweet particulars of this beautiful love-match; but +the little bride's lips were locked. She only said her lover was above +her in station. + +"And you're a Catholic, my dear!" + +"Yes, Mrs. Berry!" + +"And him a Protestant." + +"Yes, Mrs. Berry!" + +"Dear, dear!--And why shouldn't ye be?" she ejaculated, seeing sadness +return to the bridal babe. "So as you was born, so shall ye be! But +you'll have to make your arrangements about the children. The girls to +worship with yet, the boys with him. It's the same God, my dear! You +mustn't blush at it, though you do look so pretty. If my young gentleman +could see you now!" + +"Please, Mrs. Berry!" Lucy murmured. + +"Why, he will, you know, my dear!" + +"Oh, please, Mrs. Berry!" + +"And you that can't bear the thoughts of it! Well, I do wish there +was fathers and mothers on both sides and dock-ments signed, and +bridesmaids, and a breakfast! but love is love, and ever will be, in +spite of them." + +She made other and deeper dives into the little heart, but though she +drew up pearls, they were not of the kind she searched for. The one +fact that hung as a fruit upon her tree of Love, Lucy had given her; +she would not, in fealty to her lover, reveal its growth and history, +however sadly she yearned to pour out all to this dear old Mother +Confessor. + +Her conduct drove Mrs. Berry from the rosy to the autumnal view of +matrimony, generally heralded by the announcement that it is a lottery. + +"And when you see your ticket," said Mrs. Berry, "you shan't know +whether it's a prize or a blank. And, Lord knows! some go on thinking +it's a prize when it turns on 'em and tears 'em. I'm one of the blanks, +my dear! I drew a blank in Berry. He was a black Berry to me, my dear! +Smile away! he truly was, and I a-prizin' him as proud as you can +conceive! My dear!" Mrs. Berry pressed her hands flat on her apron. "We +hadn't been a three months man and wife, when that man--it wasn't the +honeymoon, which some can't say--that man--Yes! he kicked me. His wedded +wife he kicked! Ah!" she sighed to Lucy's large eyes, "I could have +borne that. A blow don't touch the heart," the poor creature tapped her +sensitive side. "I went on loving of him, for I'm a soft one. Tall as a +Grenadier he is, and when out of service grows his moustache. I used to +call him my body-guardsman like a Queen! I flattered him like the fools +we women are. For, take my word for it, my dear, there's nothing here +below so vain as a man! That I know. But I didn't deserve it.... I'm a +superior cook.... I did not deserve that noways." Mrs. Berry thumped her +knee, and accentuated up her climax: "I mended his linen. I saw to his +adornments--he called his clothes, the bad man! I was a servant to him, +my dear! and there--it was nine months--nine months from the day he +swear to protect and cherish and that--nine calendar months, and my +gentleman is off with another woman! Bone of his bone!--pish!" exclaimed +Mrs. Berry, reckoning her wrongs over vividly. "Here's my ring. A pretty +ornament! What do it mean? I'm for tearin' it off my finger a dozen +times in the day. It's a symbol? I call it a tomfoolery for the +dead-alive to wear it, that's a widow and not a widow, and haven't got +a name for what she is in any Dixonary, I've looked, my dear, and"--she +spread out her arms--"Johnson haven't got a name for me!" + +At this impressive woe Mrs. Berry's voice quavered into sobs. Lucy spoke +gentle words to the poor outcast from Johnson. The sorrows of Autumn +have no warning for April. The little bride, for all her tender pity, +felt happier when she had heard her landlady's moving tale of the +wickedness of man, which cast in bright relief the glory of that one +hero who was hers. Then from a short flight of inconceivable bliss, she +fell, shot by one of her hundred Argus-eyed fears. + +"O Mrs. Berry! I'm so young! Think of me--only just seventeen!" + +Mrs. Berry immediately dried her eyes to radiance. "Young, my dear! +Nonsense! There's no so much harm in being young, here and there. I knew +an Irish lady was married at fourteen. Her daughter married close over +fourteen. She was a grandmother by thirty! When any strange man began, +she used to ask him what pattern caps grandmothers wore. They'd stare! +Bless you! the grandmother could have married over and over again. It +was her daughter's fault, not hers, you know." + +"She was three years younger," mused Lucy. + +"She married beneath her, my dear. Ran off with her father's bailiff's +son. 'Ah, Berry!' she'd say, 'if I hadn't been foolish, I should be +my lady now--not Granny!' Her father never forgave her--left all his +estates out of the family." + +"Did her husband always love her?" Lucy preferred to know. + +"In his way, my dear, he did," said Mrs. Berry, coming upon her +matrimonial wisdom. "He couldn't help himself. If he left off, he began +again. She was so clever, and did make him so comfortable. Cook! there +wasn't such another cook out of a Alderman's kitchen; no, indeed! And +she a born lady! That tells ye it's the duty of all women! She had her +saying 'When the parlour fire gets low, put coals on the ketchen fire!' +and a good saying it is to treasure. Such is man! no use in havin' their +hearts if ye don't have their stomachs." + +Perceiving that she grew abstruse, Mrs. Berry added briskly: "You know +nothing about that yet, my dear. Only mind me and mark me: don't neglect +your cookery. Kissing don't last: cookery do!" + +Here, with an aphorism worthy a place in The Pilgrim'S Scrip, she broke +off to go posseting for her dear invalid. Lucy was quite well; very +eager to be allowed to rise and be ready when the knock should come. +Mrs. Berry, in her loving considerateness for the little bride, +positively commanded her to lie down, and be quiet, and submit to be +nursed and cherished. For Mrs. Berry well knew that ten minutes alone +with the hero could only be had while the little bride was in that +unattainable position. + +Thanks to her strategy, as she thought, her object was gained. The night +did not pass before she learnt, from the hero's own mouth, that Mr. +Richards, the father of the hero, and a stern lawyer, was adverse to his +union with this young lady he loved, because of a ward of his, heiress +to an immense property, whom he desired his son to espouse; and because +his darling Letitia was a Catholic--Letitia, the sole daughter of a +brave naval officer deceased, and in the hands of a savage uncle, who +wanted to sacrifice this beauty to a brute of a son. Mrs. Berry listened +credulously to the emphatic narrative, and spoke to the effect that the +wickedness of old people formed the excuse for the wildness of young +ones. The ceremonious administration of oaths of secrecy and devotion +over, she was enrolled in the hero's band, which now numbered three, +and entered upon the duties with feminine energy, for there are no +conspirators like women. Ripton's lieutenancy became a sinecure, his +rank merely titular. He had never been married--he knew nothing about +licences, except that they must be obtained, and were not difficult--he +had not an idea that so many days' warning must be given to the +clergyman of the parish where one of the parties was resident. How +should he? All his forethought was comprised in the ring, and whenever +the discussion of arrangements for the great event grew particularly hot +and important, he would say, with a shrewd nod: "We mustn't forget the +ring, you know, Mrs. Berry!" and the new member was only prevented by +natural complacence from shouting: "Oh, drat ye! and your ring too." +Mrs. Berry had acted conspicuously in fifteen marriages, by banns, and +by licence, and to have such an obvious requisite dinned in her ears was +exasperating. They could not have contracted alliance with an auxiliary +more invaluable, an authority so profound; and they acknowledged it +to themselves. The hero marched like an automaton at her bidding; +Lieutenant Thompson was rejoiced to perform services as errand-boy in +the enterprise. + +"It's in hopes you'll be happier than me, I do it," said the devout and +charitable Berry. "Marriages is made in heaven, they say; and if that's +the case, I say they don't take much account of us below!" + +Her own woeful experiences had been given to the hero in exchange for +his story of cruel parents. + +Richard vowed to her that he would henceforth hold it a duty to hunt out +the wanderer from wedded bonds, and bring him back bound and suppliant. + +"Oh, he'll come!" said Mrs. Berry, pursing prophetic wrinkles: "he'll +come of his own accord. Never anywhere will he meet such a cook as Bessy +Berry! And he know her value in his heart of hearts. And I do believe, +when he do come, I shall be opening these arms to him again, and not +slapping his impidence in the face--I'm that soft! I always was--in +matrimony, Mr. Richards!" + +As when nations are secretly preparing for war, the docks and arsenals +hammer night and day, and busy contractors measure time by inches, and +the air hums around: for leagues as it were myriads of bees, so the +house and neighbourhood of the matrimonial soft one resounded in +the heroic style, and knew little of the changes of light decreed by +Creation. Mrs. Berry was the general of the hour. Down to Doctors' +Commons she expedited the hero, instructing him how boldly to face the +Law, and fib: for that the Law never could mist a fib and a bold face. +Down the hero went, and proclaimed his presence. And lo! the Law +danced to him its sedatest lovely bear's-dance. Think ye the Lawless +susceptible to him than flesh and blood? With a beautiful confidence it +put the few familiar questions to him, and nodded to his replies: then +stamped the bond, and took the fee. It must be an old vagabond at heart +that can permit the irrevocable to go so cheap, even to a hero. For only +mark him when he is petitioned by heroes and heroines to undo what he +does so easily! That small archway of Doctors' Commons seems the eye of +a needle, through which the lean purse has a way, somehow, of slipping +more readily than the portly; but once through, all are camels alike, +the lean purse an especially big camel. Dispensing tremendous marriage +as it does, the Law can have no conscience. + +"I hadn't the slightest difficulty," said the exulting hero. + +"Of course not!" returns Mrs. Berry. "It's as easy, if ye're in earnest, +as buying a plum bun." + +Likewise the ambassador of the hero went to claim the promise of the +Church to be in attendance on a certain spot, on a certain day, and +there hear oath of eternal fealty, and gird him about with all its +forces: which the Church, receiving a wink from the Law, obsequiously +engaged to do, for less than the price of a plum-cake. + +Meantime, while craftsmen and skilled women, directed by Mrs. Berry, +were toiling to deck the day at hand, Raynham and Belthorpe slept,--the +former soundly; and one day was as another to them. Regularly every +morning a letter arrived from Richard to his father, containing +observations on the phenomena of London; remarks (mainly cynical) on +the speeches and acts of Parliament; and reasons for not having yet been +able to call on the Grandisons. They were certainly rather monotonous +and spiritless. The baronet did not complain. That cold dutiful tone +assured him there was no internal trouble or distraction. "The letters +of a healthful physique!" he said to Lady Blandish, with sure insight. +Complacently he sat and smiled, little witting that his son's ordeal +was imminent, and that his son's ordeal was to be his own. Hippias wrote +that his nephew was killing him by making appointments which he never +kept, and altogether neglecting him in the most shameless way, so that +his ganglionic centre was in a ten times worse state than when he left +Raynham. He wrote very bitterly, but it was hard to feel compassion for +his offended stomach. + +On the other hand, young Tom Blaize was not forthcoming, and had +despatched no tidings whatever. Farmer Blaize smoked his pipe evening +after evening, vastly disturbed. London was a large place--young Tom +might be lost in it, he thought; and young Tom had his weaknesses. A +wolf at Belthorpe, he was likely to be a sheep in London, as yokels +have proved. But what had become of Lucy? This consideration almost sent +Farmer Blaize off to London direct, and he would have gone had not his +pipe enlightened him. A young fellow might play truant and get into +a scrape, but a young man and a young woman were sure to be heard of, +unless they were acting in complicity. Why, of course, young Tom had +behaved like a man, the rascal! and married her outright there, while +he had the chance. It was a long guess. Still it was the only reasonable +way of accounting for his extraordinary silence, and therefore the +farmer held to it that he had done the deed. He argued as modern men do +who think the hero, the upsetter of ordinary calculations, is gone from +us. So, after despatching a letter to a friend in town to be on the +outlook for son Tom, he continued awhile to smoke his pipe, rather +elated than not, and mused on the shrewd manner he should adopt when +Master Honeymoon did appear. + +Toward the middle of the second week of Richard's absence, Tom Bakewell +came to Raynham for Cassandra, and privately handed a letter to the +Eighteenth Century, containing a request for money, and a round sum. +The Eighteenth Century was as good as her word, and gave Tom a letter in +return, enclosing a cheque on her bankers, amply providing to keep the +heroic engine in motion at a moderate pace. Tom went back, and Raynham +and Lobourne slept and dreamed not of the morrow. The System, wedded to +Time, slept, and knew not how he had been outraged--anticipated by seven +pregnant seasons. For Time had heard the hero swear to that legalizing +instrument, and had also registered an oath. Ah me! venerable Hebrew +Time! he is unforgiving. Half the confusion and fever of the world comes +of this vendetta he declares against the hapless innocents who have once +done him a wrong. They cannot escape him. They will never outlive it. +The father of jokes, he is himself no joke; which it seems the business +of men to discover. + +The days roll round. He is their servant now. Mrs. Berry has a new satin +gown, a beautiful bonnet, a gold brooch, and sweet gloves, presented to +her by the hero, wherein to stand by his bride at the altar to-morrow; +and, instead of being an old wary hen, she is as much a chicken as any +of the party, such has been the magic of these articles. Fathers she +sees accepting the facts produced for them by their children; a world +content to be carved out as it pleases the hero. + +At last Time brings the bridal eve, and is blest as a benefactor. The +final arrangements are made; the bridegroom does depart; and Mrs. Berry +lights the little bride to her bed. Lucy stops on the landing where +there is an old clock eccentrically correct that night. 'Tis the +palpitating pause before the gates of her transfiguration. Mrs. Berry +sees her put her rosy finger on the One about to strike, and touch all +the hours successively till she comes to the Twelve that shall sound +"Wife" in her ears on the morrow, moving her lips the while, and looking +round archly solemn when she has done; and that sight so catches at Mrs. +Berry's heart that, not guessing Time to be the poor child's enemy, she +endangers her candle by folding Lucy warmly in her arms, whimpering; +"Bless you for a darling! you innocent lamb! You shall be happy! You +shall!" + +Old Time gazes grimly ahead. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +Although it blew hard when Caesar crossed the Rubicon, the passage of +that river is commonly calm; calm as Acheron. So long as he gets his +fare, the ferryman does not need to be told whom he carries: he pulls +with a will, and heroes may be over in half-an-hour. Only when they +stand on the opposite bank, do they see what a leap they have taken. The +shores they have relinquished shrink to an infinite remoteness. There +they have dreamed: here they must act. There lie youth and irresolution: +here manhood and purpose. They are veritably in another land: a moral +Acheron divides their life. Their memories scarce seem their own! The +Philosophical Geography (about to be published) observes that each man +has, one time or other, a little Rubicon--a clear or a foul water to +cross. It is asked him: "Wilt thou wed this Fate, and give up all behind +thee?" And "I will," firmly pronounced, speeds him over. The above-named +manuscript authority informs us, that by far the greater number of +caresses rolled by this heroic flood to its sister stream below, are +those of fellows who have repented their pledge, and have tried to swim +back to the bank they have blotted out. For though every man of us may +be a hero for one fatal minute, very few remain so after a day's march +even: and who wonders that Madam Fate is indignant, and wears the +features of the terrible Universal Fate to him? Fail before her, either +in heart or in act, and lo, how the alluring loves in her visage wither +and sicken to what it is modelled on! Be your Rubicon big or small, +clear or foul, it is the same: you shall not return. On--or to +Acheron!--I subscribe to that saying of The Pilgrim's Scrip: + +"The danger of a little knowledge of things is disputable: but beware +the little knowledge of one's self!" + +Richard Feverel was now crossing the River of his Ordeal. Already the +mists were stealing over the land he had left: his life was cut in +two, and he breathed but the air that met his nostrils. His father, his +father's love, his boyhood and ambition, were shadowy. His poetic dreams +had taken a living attainable shape. He had a distincter impression of +the Autumnal Berry and her household than of anything at Raynham. And +yet the young man loved his father, loved his home: and I daresay Caesar +loved Rome: but whether he did or no, Caesar when he killed the Republic +was quite bald, and the hero we are dealing with is scarce beginning to +feel his despotic moustache. Did he know what he was made of? Doubtless, +nothing at all. But honest passion has an instinct that can be safer +than conscious wisdom. He was an arrow drawn to the head, flying from +the bow. His audacious mendacities and subterfuges did not strike him +as in any way criminal; for he was perfectly sure that the winning and +securing of Lucy would in the end be boisterously approved of, and in +that case, were not the means justified? Not that he took trouble to +argue thus, as older heroes and self-convicting villains are in the +habit of doing; to deduce a clear conscience. Conscience and Lucy went +together. + +It was a soft fair day. The Rubicon sparkled in the morning sun. One of +those days when London embraces the prospect of summer, and troops forth +all its babies. The pavement, the squares, the parks, were early alive +with the cries of young Britain. Violet and primrose girls, and organ +boys with military monkeys, and systematic bands very determined in +tone if not in tune, filled the atmosphere, and crowned the blazing +procession of omnibuses, freighted with business men, Cityward, where +a column of reddish brown smoke,--blown aloft by the South-west, marked +the scene of conflict to which these persistent warriors repaired. +Richard had seen much of early London that morning. His plans were laid. +He had taken care to ensure his personal liberty against accidents, by +leaving his hotel and his injured uncle Hippias at sunrise. To-day or +to-morrow his father was to arrive. Farmer Blaize, Tom Bakewell reported +to him, was raging in town. Another day and she might be torn from him: +but to-day this miracle of creation would be his, and then from those +glittering banks yonder, let them summon him to surrender her who dared! +The position of things looked so propitious that he naturally thought +the powers waiting on love conspired in his behalf. And she, too--since +she must cross this river, she had sworn to him to be brave, and do him +honour, and wear the true gladness of her heart in her face. Without +a suspicion of folly in his acts, or fear of results, Richard strolled +into Kensington Gardens, breakfasting on the foreshadow of his great +joy, now with a vision of his bride, now of the new life opening to him. +Mountain masses of clouds, rounded in sunlight, swung up the blue. The +flowering chestnut pavilions overhead rustled and hummed. A sound in his +ears as of a banner unfolding in the joyful distance lulled him. + +He was to meet his bride at the church at a quarter past eleven. His +watch said a quarter to ten. He strolled on beneath the long-stemmed +trees toward the well dedicated to a saint obscure. Some people were +drinking at the well. A florid lady stood by a younger one, who had a +little silver mug half-way to her mouth, and evinced undisguised dislike +to the liquor of the salutary saint. + +"Drink, child!" said the maturer lady. "That is only your second mug. I +insist upon your drinking three full ones every morning we're in town. +Your constitution positively requires iron!" + +"But, mama," the other expostulated, "it's so nasty. I shall be sick." + +"Drink!" was the harsh injunction. "Nothing to the German waters, my +dear. Here, let me taste." She took the mug and gave it a flying kiss. +"I declare I think it almost nice--not at all objectionable. Pray, taste +it," she said to a gentleman standing below them to act as cup-bearer. + +An unmistakable cis-Rubicon voice replied: "Certainly, if it's good +fellowship; though I confess I don't think mutual sickness a very +engaging ceremony." + +Can one never escape from one's relatives? Richard ejaculated inwardly. + +Without a doubt those people were Mrs. Doria, Clare, and Adrian. He had +them under his eyes. + +Clare, peeping up from her constitutional dose to make sure no man was +near to see the possible consequence of it, was the first to perceive +him. Her hand dropped. + +"Now, pray, drink, and do not fuss!" said Mrs. Doria. + +"Mama!" Clare gasped. + +Richard came forward and capitulated honourably, since retreat was +out of the question. Mrs. Doria swam to meet him: "My own boy! My dear +Richard!" profuse of exclamations. Clare shyly greeted him. Adrian kept +in the background. + +"Why, we were coming for you to-day, Richard," said Mrs. Doria, smiling +effusion; and rattled on, "We want another cavalier. This is delightful! +My dear nephew! You have grown from a boy to a man. And there's down +on his lip! And what brings you here at such an hour in the morning? +Poetry, I suppose! Here, take my arm, child.--Clare! finish that mug and +thank your cousin for sparing you the third. I always bring her, when we +are by a chalybeate, to take the waters before breakfast. We have to get +up at unearthly hours. Think, my dear boy! Mothers are sacrifices! And +so you've been alone a fortnight with your agreeable uncle! A charming +time of it you must have had! Poor Hippias! what may be his last +nostrum?" + +"Nephew!" Adrian stretched his head round to the couple. "Doses of +nephew taken morning and night fourteen days! And he guarantees that it +shall destroy an iron constitution in a month." + +Richard mechanically shook Adrian's hand as he spoke. + +"Quite well, Ricky?" + +"Yes: well enough," Richard answered. + +"Well?" resumed his vigorous aunt, walking on with him, while Clare and +Adrian followed. "I really never saw you looking so handsome. There's +something about your face--look at me--you needn't blush. You've +grown to an Apollo. That blue buttoned-up frock coat becomes you +admirably--and those gloves, and that easy neck-tie. Your style is +irreproachable, quite a style of your own! And nothing eccentric. You +have the instinct of dress. Dress shows blood, my dear boy, as much as +anything else. Boy!--you see, I can't forget old habits. You were a boy +when I left, and now!--Do you see any change in him, Clare?" she turned +half round to her daughter. + +"Richard is looking very well, mama," said Clare, glancing at him under +her eyelids. + +"I wish I could say the same of you, my dear.--Take my arm, Richard. +Are you afraid of your aunt? I want to get used to you. Won't it be +pleasant, our being all in town together in the season? How fresh the +Opera will be to you! Austin, I hear, takes stalls. You can come to the +Forey's box when you like. We are staying with the Foreys close by +here. I think it's a little too far out, you know; but they like the +neighbourhood. This is what I have always said: Give him more liberty! +Austin has seen it at last. How do you think Clare looking?" + +The question had to be repeated. Richard surveyed his cousin hastily, +and praised her looks. + +"Pale!" Mrs. Doria sighed. + +"Rather pale, aunt." + +"Grown very much--don't you think, Richard?" + +"Very tall girl indeed, aunt." + +"If she had but a little more colour, my dear Richard! I'm sure I give +her all the iron she can swallow, but that pallor still continues. +I think she does not prosper away from her old companion. She was +accustomed to look up to you, Richard"-- + +"Did you get Ralph's letter, aunt?" Richard interrupted her. + +"Absurd!" Mrs. Doria pressed his arm. "The nonsense of a boy! Why did +you undertake to forward such stuff?" + +"I'm certain he loves her," said Richard, in a serious way. + +The maternal eyes narrowed on him. "Life, my dear Richard, is a game +of cross-purposes," she observed, dropping her fluency, and was rather +angered to hear him laugh. He excused himself by saying that she spoke +so like his father. + +"You breakfast with us," she freshened off again. "The Foreys wish +to see you; the girls are dying to know you. Do you know, you have +a reputation on account of that"--she crushed an intruding +adjective--"System you were brought up on. You mustn't mind it. For +my part, I think you look a credit to it. Don't be bashful with young +women, mind! As much as you please with the old ones. You know how to +behave among men. There you have your Drawing-room Guide! I'm sure I +shall be proud of you. Am I not?" + +Mrs. Doria addressed his eyes coaxingly. + +A benevolent idea struck Richard, that he might employ the minutes to +spare, in pleading the case of poor Ralph; and, as he was drawn along, +he pulled out his watch to note the precise number of minutes he could +dedicate to this charitable office. + +"Pardon me," said Mrs. Doria. "You want manners, my dear boy. I think +it never happened to me before that a man consulted his watch in my +presence." + +Richard mildly replied that he had an engagement at a particular hour, +up to which he was her servant. + +"Fiddlededee!" the vivacious lady sang. "Now I've got you, I mean to +keep you. Oh! I've heard all about you. This ridiculous indifference +that your father makes so much of! Why, of course, you wanted to see +the world! A strong healthy young man shut up all his life in a lonely +house--no friends, no society, no amusements but those of rustics! Of +course you were indifferent! Your intelligence and superior mind alone +saved you from becoming a dissipated country boor.--Where are the +others?" + +Clare and Adrian came up at a quick pace. + +"My damozel dropped something," Adrian explained. + +Her mother asked what it was. + +"Nothing, mama," said Clare, demurely, and they proceeded as before. + +Overborne by his aunt's fluency of tongue, and occupied in acute +calculation of the flying minutes, Richard let many pass before he edged +in a word for Ralph. When he did, Mrs. Doria stopped him immediately. + +"I must tell you, child, that I refuse to listen to such rank idiotcy." + +"It's nothing of the kind, aunt." + +"The fancy of a boy." + +"He's not a boy. He's half-a-year older than I am!" + +"You silly child! The moment you fall in love, you all think yourselves +men." + +"On my honour, aunt! I believe he loves her thoroughly." + +"Did he tell you so, child?" + +"Men don't speak openly of those things," said Richard. + +"Boys do," said Mrs. Doria. + +"But listen to me in earnest, aunt. I want you to be kind to Ralph. +Don't drive him to--You maybe sorry for it. Let him--do let him write to +her, and see her. I believe women are as cruel as men in these things." + +"I never encourage absurdity, Richard." + +"What objection have you to Ralph, aunt?" + +"Oh, they're both good families. It's not that absurdity, Richard. +It will be to his credit to remember that his first fancy wasn't a +dairymaid." Mrs. Doria pitched her accent tellingly. It did not touch +her nephew. + +"Don't you want Clare ever to marry?" He put the last point of reason to +her. + +Mrs. Doria laughed. "I hope so, child. We must find some comfortable old +gentleman for her." + +"What infamy!" mutters Richard. + +"And I engage Ralph shall be ready to dance at her wedding, or eat a +hearty breakfast--We don't dance at weddings now, and very properly. +It's a horrid sad business, not to be treated with levity.--Is that +his regiment?" she said, as they passed out of the hussar-sentinelled +gardens. "Tush, tush, child! Master Ralph will recover, as--hem! others +have done. A little headache--you call it heartache--and up you rise +again, looking better than ever. No doubt, to have a grain of sense +forced into your brains, you poor dear children! must be painful.. Girls +suffer as much as boys, I assure you. More, for their heads are weaker, +and their appetites less constant. Do I talk like your father now? +Whatever makes the boy fidget at his watch so?" + +Richard stopped short. Time spoke urgently. + +"I must go," he said. + +His face did not seem good for trifling. Mrs. Doria would trifle in +spite. + +"Listen, Clare! Richard is going. He says he has an engagement. What +possible engagement can a young man have at eleven o'clock in the +morning?--unless it's to be married!" Mrs. Doria laughed at the +ingenuity of her suggestion. + +"Is the church handy, Ricky?" said Adrian. "You can still give us +half-an-hour if it is. The celibate hours strike at Twelve." And he also +laughed in his fashion. + +"Won't you stay with us, Richard?" Clare asked. She blushed timidly, and +her voice shook. + +Something indefinite--a sharp-edged thrill in the tones made the burning +bridegroom speak gently to her. + +"Indeed, I would, Clare; I should like to please you, but I have a most +imperative appointment--that is, I promised--I must go. I shall see you +again"-- + +Mrs. Doria, took forcible possession of him. "Now, do come, and don't +waste words. I insist upon your having some breakfast first, and then, +if you really must go, you shall. Look! there's the house. At least you +will accompany your aunt to the door." + +Richard conceded this. She little imagined what she required of him. Two +of his golden minutes melted into nothingness. They were growing to be +jewels of price, one by one more and more precious as they ran, and now +so costly-rare--rich as his blood! not to kindest relations, dearest +friends, could he give another. The die is cast! Ferryman! push off. + +"Good-bye!" he cried, nodding bluffly at the three as one, and fled. + +They watched his abrupt muscular stride through the grounds of the +house. He looked like resolution on the march. Mrs. Doria, as usual with +her out of her brother's hearing, began rating the System. + +"See what becomes of that nonsensical education! The boy really does not +know how to behave like a common mortal. He has some paltry appointment, +or is mad after some ridiculous idea of his own, and everything must +be sacrificed to it! That's what Austin calls concentration of the +faculties. I think it's more likely to lead to downright insanity than +to greatness of any kind. And so I shall tell Austin. It's time he +should be spoken to seriously about him." + +"He's an engine, my dear aunt," said Adrian. "He isn't a boy, or a man, +but an engine. And he appears to have been at high pressure since he +came to town--out all day and half the night." + +"He's mad!" Mrs. Doria interjected. + +"Not at all. Extremely shrewd is Master Ricky, and carries as open an +eye ahead of him as the ships before Troy. He's more than a match for +any of us. He is for me, I confess." + +"Then," said Mrs. Doria, "he does astonish me!" + +Adrian begged her to retain her astonishment till the right season, +which would not be long arriving. + +Their common wisdom counselled them not to tell the Foreys of their +hopeful relative's ungracious behaviour. Clare had left them. When Mrs. +Doria went to her room her daughter was there, gazing down at something +in her hand, which she guiltily closed. + +In answer to an inquiry why she had not gone to take off her things, +Clare said she was not hungry. Mrs. Doria lamented the obstinacy of a +constitution that no quantity of iron could affect, and eclipsed the +looking-glass, saying: "Take them off here, child, and learn to assist +yourself." + +She disentangled her bonnet from the array of her spreading hair, +talking of Richard, and his handsome appearance, and extraordinary +conduct. Clare kept opening and shutting her hand, in an attitude +half-pensive, half-listless. She did not stir to undress. A joyless +dimple hung in one pale cheek, and she drew long even breaths. + +Mrs. Doria, assured by the glass that she was ready to show, came to her +daughter. + +"Now, really," she said, "you are too helpless, my dear. You cannot do a +thing without a dozen women at your elbow. What will become of you? You +will have to marry a millionaire.--What's the matter with you, child?" + +Clare undid her tight-shut fingers, as if to some attraction of her +eyes, and displayed a small gold hoop on the palm of a green glove. + +"A wedding-ring!" exclaimed Mrs. Doria, inspecting the curiosity most +daintily. + +There on Clare's pale green glove lay a wedding-ring! + +Rapid questions as to where, when, how, it was found, beset Clare, who +replied: "In the Gardens, mama. This morning. When I was walking behind +Richard." + +"Are you sure he did not give it you, Clare?" + +"Oh no, mama! he did not give it me." + +"Of course not! only he does such absurd things! I thought, +perhaps--these boys are so exceedingly ridiculous! Mrs. Doria had an +idea that it might have been concerted between the two young gentlemen, +Richard and Ralph, that the former should present this token of hymeneal +devotion from the latter to the young lady of his love; but a moment's +reflection exonerated boys even from such preposterous behaviour. + +"Now, I wonder," she speculated on Clare's cold face, "I do wonder +whether it's lucky to find a wedding-ring. What very quick eyes you +have, my darling!" Mrs. Doria kissed her. She thought it must be lucky, +and the circumstance made her feel tender to her child. Her child did +not move to the kiss. + +"Let's see whether it fits," said Mrs. Doria, almost infantine with +surprise and pleasure. + +Clare suffered her glove to be drawn off. The ring slid down her long +thin finger, and settled comfortably. + +"It does!" Mrs. Doria whispered. To find a wedding ring is open to +any woman; but to find a wedding-ring that fits may well cause a +superstitious emotion. Moreover, that it should be found while walking +in the neighbourhood of the identical youth whom a mother has destined +for her daughter, gives significance to the gentle perturbation of ideas +consequent on such a hint from Fortune. + +"It really fits!" she pursued. "Now I never pay any attention to the +nonsense of omens and that kind of thing" (had the ring been a horseshoe +Mrs. Doria would have pinked it up and dragged it obediently home), "but +this, I must say, is odd--to find a ring that fits!--singular! It never +happened to me. Sixpence is the most I ever discovered, and I have it +now. Mind you keep it, Clare--this ring: And," she laughed, "offer it to +Richard when he comes; say, you think he must have dropped it." + +The dimple in Clare's cheek quivered. + +Mother and daughter had never spoken explicitly of Richard. Mrs. Doria, +by exquisite management, had contrived to be sure that on one side there +would be no obstacle to her project of general happiness, without, as +she thought, compromising her daughter's feelings unnecessarily. It +could do no harm to an obedient young girl to hear that there was +no youth in the world like a certain youth. He the prince of his +generation, she might softly consent, when requested, to be his +princess; and if never requested (for Mrs. Doria envisaged failure), she +might easily transfer her softness to squires of lower degree. Clare +had always been blindly obedient to her mother (Adrian called them Mrs. +Doria Battledoria and the fair Shuttlecockiana), and her mother +accepted in this blind obedience the text of her entire character. It is +difficult for those who think very earnestly for their children to know +when their children are thinking on their own account. The exercise +of their volition we construe as revolt. Our love does not like to be +invalided and deposed from its command, and here I think yonder old +thrush on the lawn who has just kicked the last of her lank offspring +out of the nest to go shift for itself, much the kinder of the +two, though sentimental people do shrug their shoulders at these +unsentimental acts of the creatures who never wander from nature. Now, +excess of obedience is, to one who manages most exquisitely, as bad as +insurrection. Happily Mrs. Doria saw nothing in her daughter's manner +save a want of iron. Her pallor, her lassitude, the tremulous nerves in +her face, exhibited an imperious requirement of the mineral. + +"The reason why men and women are mysterious to us, and prove +disappointing," we learn from The Pilgrim's Scrip, "is, that we will +read them from our own book; just as we are perplexed by reading +ourselves from theirs." + +Mrs. Doria read her daughter from her own book, and she was gay; she +laughed with Adrian at the breakfast-table, and mock-seriously joined +in his jocose assertion that Clare was positively and by all hymeneal +auspices betrothed to the owner of that ring, be he who he may, and +must, whenever he should choose to come and claim her, give her hand to +him (for everybody agreed the owner must be masculine, as no woman would +drop a wedding-ring), and follow him whither he listed all the world +over. Amiable giggling Forey girls called Clare, The Betrothed. Dark +man, or fair? was mooted. Adrian threw off the first strophe of Clare's +fortune in burlesque rhymes, with an insinuating gipsy twang. Her aunt +Forey warned her to have her dresses in readiness. Her grandpapa Forey +pretended to grumble at bridal presents being expected from grandpapas. + +This one smelt orange-flower, another spoke solemnly of an old shoe. +The finding of a wedding-ring was celebrated through all the palpitating +accessories and rosy ceremonies involved by that famous instrument. In +the midst of the general hilarity, Clare showed her deplorable want of +iron by bursting into tears. + +Did the poor mocked-at heart divine what might be then enacting? +Perhaps, dimly, as we say: that is, without eyes. + +At an altar stand two fair young creatures, ready with their oaths. They +are asked to fix all time to the moment, and they do so. If there is +hesitation at the immense undertaking, it is but maidenly. She conceives +as little mental doubt of the sanity of the act as he. Over them hangs +a cool young curate in his raiment of office. Behind are two apparently +lucid people, distinguished from each other by sex and age: the foremost +a bunch of simmering black satin; under her shadow a cock-robin in +the dress of a gentleman, big joy swelling out his chest, and pert +satisfaction cocking his head. These be they who stand here in place of +parents to the young couple. All is well. The service proceeds. + +Firmly the bridegroom tells forth his words. This hour of the complacent +giant at least is his, and that he means to hold him bound through the +eternities, men may hear. Clearly, and with brave modesty, speaks she: +no less firmly, though her body trembles: her voice just vibrating while +the tone travels on, like a smitten vase. + +Time hears sentence pronounced on him: the frail hands bind his huge +limbs and lock the chains. He is used to it: he lets them do as they +will. + +Then comes that period when they are to give their troth to each other. +The Man with his right hand takes the Woman by her right hand: the Woman +with her right hand takes the Man by his right hand.--Devils dare not +laugh at whom Angels crowd to contemplate. + +Their hands are joined; their blood flows as one stream. Adam and fair +Eve front the generations. Are they not lovely? Purer fountains of life +were never in two bosoms. + +And then they loose their hands, and the cool curate doth bid the Man +to put a ring on the Woman's fourth finger, counting thumb. And the Man +thrusts his hand into one pocket, and into another, forward and back +many times into all his pockets. He remembers that he felt for it, and +felt it in his waistcoat pocket, when in the Gardens. And his hand comes +forth empty. And the Man is ghastly to look at! + +Yet, though Angels smile, shall not Devils laugh! The curate +deliberates. The black satin bunch ceases to simmer. He in her shadow +changes from a beaming cock-robin to an inquisitive sparrow. Eyes +multiply questions: lips have no reply. Time ominously shakes his chain, +and in the pause a sound of mockery stings their ears. + +Think ye a hero is one to be defeated in his first battle? Look at the +clock! there are but seven minutes to the stroke of the celibate hours: +the veteran is surely lifting his two hands to deliver fire, and his +shot will sunder them in twain so nearly united. All the jewellers of +London speeding down with sacks full of the nuptial circlet cannot save +them! + +The battle must be won on the field, and what does the hero now? It is +an inspiration! For who else would dream of such a reserve in the +rear? None see what he does; only that the black-satin bunch is +remonstratingly agitated, stormily shaken, and subdued: and as though +the menacing cloud had opened, and dropped the dear token from the skies +at his demand, he produces the symbol of their consent, and the service +proceeds: "With this ring I thee wed." + +They are prayed over and blest. For good, or for ill, this deed is +done. The names are registered; fees fly right and left: they thank, +and salute, the curate, whose official coolness melts into a smile of +monastic gallantry: the beadle on the steps waves off a gaping world +as they issue forth bridegroom and bridesman recklessly scatter gold on +him: carriage doors are banged to: the coachmen drive off, and the scene +closes, everybody happy. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +And the next moment the bride is weeping as if she would dissolve to one +of Dian's Virgin Fountains from the clasp of the Sun-God. She has nobly +preserved the mask imposed by comedies, till the curtain has fallen, and +now she weeps, streams with tears. Have patience, O impetuous young man! +It is your profession to be a hero. This poor heart is new to it, and +her duties involve such wild acts, such brigandage, such terrors and +tasks, she is quite unnerved. She did you honour till now. Bear with her +now. She does not cry the cry of ordinary maidens in like cases. While +the struggle went on her tender face was brave; but, alas! Omens are +against her: she holds an ever-present dreadful one on that fatal fourth +finger of hers, which has coiled itself round her dream of delight, and +takes her in its clutch like a horrid serpent. And yet she must love it. +She dares not part from it. She must love and hug it, and feed on its +strange honey, and all the bliss it gives her casts all the deeper +shadow on what is to come. + +Say: Is it not enough to cause feminine apprehension, for a woman to be +married in another woman's ring? + +You are amazons, ladies, at Saragossa, and a thousand citadels--wherever +there is strife, and Time is to be taken by the throat. Then shall few +men match your sublime fury. But what if you see a vulture, visible only +to yourselves, hovering over the house you are gaily led by the torch to +inhabit? Will you not crouch and be cowards? + +As for the hero, in the hour of victory he pays no heed to omens. He +does his best to win his darling to confidence by caresses. Is she not +his? Is he not hers? And why, when the battle is won, does she weep? +Does she regret what she has done? + +Oh, never! never! her soft blue eyes assure him, steadfast love seen +swimming on clear depths of faith in them, through the shower. + +He is silenced by her exceeding beauty, and sits perplexed waiting for +the shower to pass. + +Alone with Mrs. Berry, in her bedroom, Lucy gave tongue to her distress, +and a second character in the comedy changed her face. + +"O Mrs. Berry! Mrs. Berry! what has happened! what has happened!" + +"My darlin' child!" The bridal Berry gazed at the finger of doleful joy. +"I'd forgot all about it! And that's what've made me feel so queer ever +since, then! I've been seemin' as if I wasn't myself somehow, without +my ring. Dear! dear! what a wilful young gentleman! We ain't a match for +men in that state--Lord help us!" + +Mrs. Berry sat on the edge of a chair: Lucy on the edge of the bed. + +"What do you think of it, Mrs. Berry? Is it not terrible?" + +"I can't say I should 'a liked it myself, my dear," Mrs. Berry candidly +responded. + +"Oh! why, why, why did it happen!" the young bride bent to a flood of +fresh tears, murmuring that she felt already old--forsaken. + +"Haven't you got a comfort in your religion for all accidents?" Mrs. +Berry inquired. + +"None for this. I know it's wrong to cry when I am so happy. I hope he +will forgive me." + +Mrs. Berry vowed her bride was the sweetest, softest, beautifulest thing +in life. + +"I'll cry no more," said Lucy. "Leave me, Mrs. Berry, and come back when +I ring." + +She drew forth a little silver cross, and fell upon her knees to the +bed. Mrs. Berry left the room tiptoe. + +When she was called to return, Lucy was calm and tearless, and smiled +kindly to her. + +"It's over now," she said. + +Mrs. Berry sedately looked for her ring to follow. + +"He does not wish me to go in to the breakfast you have prepared, Mrs. +Berry. I begged to be excused. I cannot eat." + +Mrs. Berry very much deplored it, as she had laid out a superior nuptial +breakfast, but with her mind on her ring she nodded assentingly. + +"We shall not have much packing to do, Mrs. Berry." + +"No, my dear. It's pretty well all done." + +"We are going to the Isle of Wight, Mrs. Berry." + +"And a very suitable spot ye've chose, my dear!" + +"He loves the sea. He wishes to be near it." + +"Don't ye cross to-night, if it's anyways rough, my dear. It isn't +advisable." Mrs. Berry sank her voice to say, "Don't ye be soft and give +way to him there, or you'll both be repenting it." + +Lucy had only been staving off the unpleasantness she had to speak. She +saw Mrs. Berry's eyes pursuing her ring, and screwed up her courage at +last. + +"Mrs. Berry." + +"Yes, my dear." + +"Mrs. Berry, you shall have another ring." + +"Another, my dear?" Berry did not comprehend. "One's quite enough for +the objeck," she remarked. + +"I mean," Lucy touched her fourth finger, "I cannot part with this." She +looked straight at Mrs. Berry. + +That bewildered creature gazed at her, and at the ring, till she had +thoroughly exhausted the meaning of the words, and then exclaimed, +horror-struck: "Deary me, now! you don't say that? You're to be married +again in your own religion." + +The young wife repeated: "I can never part with it." + +"But, my dear!" the wretched Berry wrung her hands, divided between +compassion and a sense of injury. "My dear!" she kept expostulating like +a mute. + +"I know all that you would say, Mrs. Berry. I am very grieved to pain +you. It is mine now, and must be mine. I cannot give it back." + +There she sat, suddenly developed to the most inflexible little heroine +in the three Kingdoms. + +From her first perception of the meaning of the young bride's words, +Mrs. Berry, a shrewd physiognomist, knew that her case was hopeless, +unless she treated her as she herself had been treated, and seized the +ring by force of arms; and that she had not heart for. + +"What!" she gasped faintly, "one's own lawful wedding-ring you wouldn't +give back to a body?" + +"Because it is mine, Mrs. Berry. It was yours, but it is mine now. You +shall have whatever you ask for but that. Pray, forgive me! It must be +so." + +Mrs. Berry rocked on her chair, and sounded her hands together. It +amazed her that this soft little creature could be thus firm. She tried +argument. + +"Don't ye know, my dear, it's the fatalest thing you're inflictin' +upon me, reelly! Don't ye know that bein' bereft of one's own lawful +wedding-ring's the fatalest thing in life, and there's no prosperity +after it! For what stands in place o' that, when that's gone, my dear? +And what could ye give me to compensate a body for the loss o' that? +Don't ye know--Oh, deary me!" The little bride's face was so set that +poor Berry wailed off in despair. + +"I know it," said Lucy. "I know it all. I know what I do to you. Dear, +dear Mrs. Berry! forgive me! If I parted with my ring I know it would be +fatal." + +So this fair young freebooter took possession of her argument as well as +her ring. + +Berry racked her distracted wits for a further appeal. + +"But, my child," she counter-argued, "you don't understand. It ain't as +you think. It ain't a hurt to you now. Not a bit, it ain't. It makes no +difference now! Any ring does while the wearer's a maid. And your Mr. +Richard will find the very ring he intended for ye. And, of course, +that's the one you'll wear as his wife. It's all the same now, my dear. +It's no shame to a maid. Now do--now do--there's a darlin'!" + +Wheedling availed as little as argument. + +"Mrs. Berry," said Lucy, "you know what my--he spoke: 'With this ring I +thee wed.' It was with this ring. Then how could it be with another?" + +Berry was constrained despondently to acknowledge that was logic. + +She hit upon an artful conjecture: + +"Won't it be unlucky your wearin' of the ring which served me so? Think +o' that!" + +"It may! it may! it may!" cried Lucy. + +"And arn't you rushin' into it, my dear?" + +"Mrs. Berry," Lucy said again, "it was this ring. It cannot--it never +can be another. It was this. What it brings me I must bear. I shall wear +it till I die!" + +"Then what am I to do?" the ill-used woman groaned. "What shall I tell +my husband when he come back to me, and see I've got a new ring waitin' +for him? Won't that be a welcome?" + +Quoth Lucy: "How can he know it is not the same; in a plain gold ring?" + +"You never see so keen a eyed man in joolry as my Berry!" returned his +solitary spouse. "Not know, my dear? Why, any one would know that've got +eyes in his head. There's as much difference in wedding-rings as there's +in wedding people! Now, do pray be reasonable, my own sweet!" + +"Pray, do not ask me," pleads Lucy. + +"Pray, do think better of it," urges Berry. + +"Pray, pray, Mrs. Berry!" pleads Lucy. + +"--And not leave your old Berry all forlorn just when you're so happy!" + +"Indeed I would not, you dear, kind old creature!" Lucy faltered. + +Mrs. Berry thought she had her. + +"Just when you're going to be the happiest wife on earth--all you want +yours!" she pursued the tender strain. "A handsome young gentleman! Love +and Fortune smilin' on ye!"-- + +Lucy rose up. + +"Mrs. Berry," she said, "I think we must not lose time in getting ready, +or he will be impatient." + +Poor Berry surveyed her in abject wonder from the edge of her chair. +Dignity and resolve were in the ductile form she had hitherto folded +under her wing. In an hour the heroine had risen to the measure of the +hero. Without being exactly aware what creature she was dealing with, +Berry acknowledged to herself it was not one of the common run, and +sighed, and submitted. + +"It's like a divorce, that it is!" she sobbed. + +After putting the corners of her apron to her eyes, Berry bustled humbly +about the packing. Then Lucy, whose heart was full to her, came and +kissed her, and Berry bumped down and regularly cried. This over, she +had recourse to fatalism. + +"I suppose it was to be, my dear! It's my punishment for meddlin' wi' +such matters. No, I'm not sorry. Bless ye both. Who'd 'a thought you +was so wilful?--you that any one might have taken for one of the +silly-softs! You're a pair, my dear! indeed you are! You was made to +meet! But we mustn't show him we've been crying.--Men don't like it when +they're happy. Let's wash our faces and try to bear our lot." + +So saying the black-satin bunch careened to a renewed deluge. She +deserved some sympathy, for if it is sad to be married in another +person's ring, how much sadder to have one's own old accustomed lawful +ring violently torn off one's finger and eternally severed from one! But +where you have heroes and heroines, these terrible complications ensue. + +They had now both fought their battle of the ring, and with equal honour +and success. + +In the chamber of banquet Richard was giving Ripton his last directions. +Though it was a private wedding, Mrs. Berry had prepared a sumptuous +breakfast. Chickens offered their breasts: pies hinted savoury secrets: +things mystic, in a mash, with Gallic appellatives, jellies, creams, +fruits, strewed the table: as a tower in the midst, the cake colossal: +the priestly vesture of its nuptial white relieved by hymeneal +splendours. + +Many hours, much labour and anxiety of mind, Mrs. Berry had expended +upon this breakfast, and why? There is one who comes to all feasts +that have their basis in Folly, whom criminals of trained instinct are +careful to provide against: who will speak, and whose hateful voice must +somehow be silenced while the feast is going on. This personage is +The Philosopher. Mrs. Berry knew him. She knew that he would come. She +provided against him in the manner she thought most efficacious: that +is, by cheating her eyes and intoxicating her conscience with the due +and proper glories incident to weddings where fathers dilate, mothers +collapse, and marriage settlements are flourished on high by the family +lawyer: and had there been no show of the kind to greet her on her +return from the church, she would, and she foresaw she would, have +stared at squalor and emptiness, and repented her work. The Philosopher +would have laid hold of her by the ear, and called her bad names. +Entrenched behind a breakfast-table so legitimately adorned, Mrs. Berry +defied him. In the presence of that cake he dared not speak above a +whisper. And there were wines to drown him in, should he still think +of protesting; fiery wines, and cool: claret sent purposely by the +bridegroom for the delectation of his friend. + +For one good hour, therefore, the labour of many hours kept him dumb. +Ripton was fortifying himself so as to forget him altogether, and the +world as well, till the next morning. Ripton was excited, overdone with +delight. He had already finished one bottle, and listened, pleasantly +flushed, to his emphatic and more abstemious chief. He had nothing to +do but to listen, and to drink. The hero would not allow him to shout +Victory! or hear a word of toasts; and as, from the quantity of oil +poured on it, his eloquence was becoming a natural force in his bosom, +the poor fellow was afflicted with a sort of elephantiasis of suppressed +emotion. At times he half-rose from his chair, and fell vacuously +into it again; or he chuckled in the face of weighty, severely-worded +instructions; tapped his chest, stretched his arms, yawned, and in short +behaved so singularly that Richard observed it, and said: "On my soul, I +don't think you know a word I'm saying." + +"Every word, Ricky!" Ripton spirted through the opening. "I'm going down +to your governor, and tell him: Sir Austin! Here's your only chance of +being a happy father--no, no!--Oh! don't you fear me, Ricky! I shall +talk the old gentleman over." + +His chief said: + +"Look here. You had better not go down to-night. Go down the first +thing to-morrow, by the six o'clock train. Give him my letter. Listen +to me--give him my letter, and don't speak a word till he speaks. His +eyebrows will go up and down, he won't say much. I know him. If he +asks you about her, don't be a fool, but say what you think of her +sensibly"-- + +No cork could hold in Ripton when she was alluded to. He shouted: "She's +an angel!" + +Richard checked him: "Speak sensibly, I say--quietly. You can say how +gentle and good she is--my fleur-de-luce! And say, this was not her +doing. If any one's to blame, it's I. I made her marry me. Then go to +Lady Blandish, if you don't find her at the house. You may say whatever +you please to her. Give her my letter, and tell her I want to hear from +her immediately. She has seen Lucy, and I know what she thinks of her. +You will then go to Farmer Blaize. I told you Lucy happens to be his +niece--she has not lived long there. She lived with her aunt Desborough +in France while she was a child, and can hardly be called a relative to +the farmer--there's not a point of likeness between them. Poor darling! +she never knew her mother. Go to Mr. Blaize, and tell him. You will +treat him just as you would treat any other gentleman. If you are civil, +he is sure to be. And if he abuses me, for my sake and hers you will +still treat him with respect. You hear? And then write me a full account +of all that has been said and done. You will have my address the day +after to-morrow. By the way, Tom will be here this afternoon. Write out +for him where to call on you the day after to-morrow, in case you have +heard anything in the morning you think I ought to know at once, as Tom +will join me that night. Don't mention to anybody about my losing the +ring, Ripton. I wouldn't have Adrian get hold of that for a thousand +pounds. How on earth I came to lose it! How well she bore it, Rip! How +beautifully she behaved!" + +Ripton again shouted: "An angel!" Throwing up the heels of his second +bottle, he said: + +"You may trust your friend, Richard. Aha! when you pulled at old Mrs. +Berry I didn't know what was up. I do wish you'd let me drink her +health?" + +"Here's to Penelope!" said Richard, just wetting his mouth. The carriage +was at the door: a couple of dire organs, each grinding the same tune, +and a vulture-scented itinerant band (from which not the secretest +veiled wedding can escape) worked harmoniously without in the production +of discord, and the noise acting on his nervous state made him begin to +fume and send in messages for his bride by the maid. + +By and by the lovely young bride presented herself dressed for her +journey, and smiling from stained eyes. + +Mrs. Berry was requested to drink some wine, which Ripton poured out for +her, enabling Mrs. Berry thereby to measure his condition. + +The bride now kissed Mrs. Berry, and Mrs. Berry kissed the bridegroom, +on the plea of her softness. Lucy gave Ripton her hand, with a musical +"Good-bye, Mr. Thompson," and her extreme graciousness made him just +sensible enough to sit down before he murmured his fervent hopes for her +happiness. + +"I shall take good care of him," said Mrs. Berry, focussing her eyes to +the comprehension of the company. + +"Farewell, Penelope!" cried Richard. "I shall tell the police everywhere +to look out for your lord." + +"Oh my dears! good-bye, and Heaven bless ye both!" + +Berry quavered, touched with compunction at the thoughts of approaching +loneliness. Ripton, his mouth drawn like a bow to his ears, brought up +the rear to the carriage, receiving a fair slap on the cheek from an old +shoe precipitated by Mrs. Berry's enthusiastic female domestic. + +White handkerchiefs were waved, the adieux had fallen to signs: they +were off. Then did a thought of such urgency illumine Mrs. Berry, that +she telegraphed, hand in air; awakening Ripton's lungs, for the coachman +to stop, and ran back to the house. Richard chafed to be gone, but at +his bride's intercession he consented to wait. Presently they beheld the +old black-satin bunch stream through the street-door, down the bit of +garden, and up the astonished street; halting, panting, capless at the +carriage door, a book in her hand,--a much-used, dog-leaved, steamy, +greasy book, which; at the same time calling out in breathless jerks, +"There! never ye mind looks! I ain't got a new one. Read it, and don't +ye forget it!" she discharged into Lucy's lap, and retreated to the +railings, a signal for the coachman to drive away for good. + +How Richard laughed at the Berry's bridal gift! Lucy, too, lost the +omen at her heart as she glanced at the title of the volume. It was Dr. +Kitchener on Domestic Cookery! + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +General withdrawing of heads from street-windows, emigration of organs +and bands, and a relaxed atmosphere in the circle of Mrs. Berry's abode, +proved that Dan Cupid had veritably flown to suck the life of fresh +regions. With a pensive mind she grasped Ripton's arm to regulate his +steps, and returned to the room where her creditor awaited her. In the +interval he had stormed her undefended fortress, the cake, from which +altitude he shook a dolorous head at the guilty woman. She smoothed +her excited apron, sighing. Let no one imagine that she regretted her +complicity. She was ready to cry torrents, but there must be absolute +castigation before this criminal shall conceive the sense of regret; +and probably then she will cling to her wickedness the more--such is the +born Pagan's tenacity! Mrs. Berry sighed, and gave him back his shake of +the head. O you wanton, improvident creature! said he. O you very wise +old gentleman! said she. He asked her the thing she had been doing. She +enlightened him with the fatalist's reply. He sounded a bogey's alarm +of contingent grave results. She retreated to the entrenched camp of the +fact she had helped to make. + +"It's done!" she exclaimed. How could she regret what she felt comfort +to know was done? Convinced that events alone could stamp a mark on such +stubborn flesh, he determined to wait for them, and crouched silent on +the cake, with one finger downwards at Ripton's incision there, showing +a crumbling chasm and gloomy rich recess. + +The eloquent indication was understood. "Dear! dear!" cried Mrs. Berry, +"what a heap o' cake, and no one to send it to!" + +Ripton had resumed his seat by the table and his embrace of the claret. +Clear ideas of satisfaction had left him and resolved to a boiling +geysir of indistinguishable transports. He bubbled, and waggled, and +nodded amicably to nothing, and successfully, though not without +effort, preserved his uppermost member from the seductions of the nymph, +Gravitation, who was on the look-out for his whole length shortly. + +"Ha! ha!" he shouted, about a minute after Mrs. Berry had spoken, and +almost abandoned himself to the nymph on the spot. Mrs. Berry's words +had just reached his wits. + +"Why do you laugh, young man?" she inquired, familiar and motherly on +account of his condition. + +Ripton laughed louder, and caught his chest on the edge of the table and +his nose on a chicken. "That's goo'!" he said, recovering, and rocking +under Mrs. Berry's eyes. "No friend!" + +"I did not say, no friend," she remarked. "I said, no one; meanin', I +know not where for to send it to." + +Ripton's response to this was: "You put a Griffin on that cake. +Wheatsheaves each side." + +"His crest?" Mrs. Berry said sweetly. + +"Oldest baronetcy 'n England!" waved Ripton. + +"Yes?" Mrs. Berry encouraged him on. + +"You think he's Richards. We're oblige' be very close. And she's the +most lovely!--If I hear man say thing 'gainst her." + +"You needn't for to cry over her, young man," said Mrs. Berry. "I wanted +for to drink their right healths by their right names, and then go about +my day's work, and I do hope you won't keep me." + +Ripton stood bolt upright at her words. + +"You do?" he said, and filling a bumper he with cheerfully vinous +articulation and glibness of tongue proposed the health of Richard and +Lucy Feverel, of Raynham Abbey! and that mankind should not require an +expeditious example of the way to accept the inspiring toast, he drained +his bumper at a gulp. It finished him. The farthing rushlight of his +reason leapt and expired. He tumbled to the sofa and there stretched. + +Some minutes subsequent to Ripton's signalization of his devotion to the +bridal pair, Mrs. Berry's maid entered the room to say that a gentleman +was inquiring below after the young gentleman who had departed, and +found her mistress with a tottering wineglass in her hand, exhibiting +every symptom of unconsoled hysterics. Her mouth gaped, as if the fell +creditor had her by the swallow. She ejaculated with horrible exultation +that she had been and done it, as her disastrous aspect seemed to +testify, and her evident, but inexplicable, access of misery induced +the sympathetic maid to tender those caressing words that were all Mrs. +Berry wanted to go off into the self-caressing fit without delay; and +she had already given the preluding demoniac ironic outburst, when the +maid called heaven to witness that the gentleman would hear her; upon +which Mrs. Berry violently controlled her bosom, and ordered that he +should be shown upstairs instantly to see her the wretch she was. She +repeated the injunction. + +The maid did as she was told, and Mrs. Berry, wishing first to see +herself as she was, mutely accosted the looking-glass, and tried to look +a very little better. She dropped a shawl on Ripton and was settled, +smoothing her agitation when her visitor was announced. + +The gentleman was Adrian Harley. An interview with Tom Bakewell had +put him on the track, and now a momentary survey of the table, and its +white-vestured cake, made him whistle. + +Mrs. Berry plaintively begged him to do her the favour to be seated. + +"A fine morning, ma'am," said Adrian. + +"It have been!" Mrs. Berry answered, glancing over her shoulder at the +window, and gulping as if to get her heart down from her mouth. + +"A very fine Spring," pursued Adrian, calmly anatomizing her +countenance. + +Mrs. Berry smothered an adjective to "weather" on a deep sigh. Her +wretchedness was palpable. In proportion to it, Adrian waned cheerful +and brisk. He divined enough of the business to see that there was some +strange intelligence to be fished out of the culprit who sat compressing +hysterics before him; and as he was never more in his element than when +he had a sinner, and a repentant prostrate abject sinner in hand, his +affable countenance might well deceive poor Berry. + +"I presume these are Mr. Thompson's lodgings?" he remarked, with a look +at the table. + +Mrs. Berry's head and the whites of her eyes informed him that they were +not Mr. Thompson's lodgings. + +"No?" said Adrian, and threw a carelessly inquisitive eye about him. +"Mr. Feverel is out, I suppose?" + +A convulsive start at the name, and two corroborating hands dropped on +her knees, formed Mrs. Berry's reply. + +"Mr. Feverel's man," continued Adrian, "told me I should be certain to +find him here. I thought he would be with his friend, Mr. Thompson. I'm +too late, I perceive. Their entertainment is over. I fancy you have been +having a party of them here, ma'am?--a bachelors' breakfast!" + +In the presence of that cake this observation seemed to mask an irony so +shrewd that Mrs. Berry could barely contain herself. She felt she must +speak. Making her face as deplorably propitiating as she could, she +began: + +"Sir, may I beg for to know your name?" + +Mr. Harley accorded her request. + +Groaning in the clutch of a pitiless truth, she continued: + +"And you are Mr. Harley, that was--oh! and you've come for Mr.?"-- + +Mr. Richard Feverel was the gentleman Mr. Harley had come for. + +"Oh! and it's no mistake, and he's of Raynham Abbey?" Mrs. Berry +inquired. + +Adrian, very much amused, assured her that he was born and bred there. + +"His father's Sir Austin?" wailed the black-satin bunch from behind her +handkerchief. + +Adrian verified Richard's descent. + +"Oh, then, what have I been and done!" she cried, and stared blankly at +her visitor. "I been and married my baby! I been and married the bread +out of my own mouth. O Mr. Harley! Mr. Harley! I knew you when you was +a boy that big, and wore jackets; and all of you. And it's my softness +that's my ruin, for I never can resist a man's asking. Look at that +cake, Mr. Harley!" + +Adrian followed her directions quite coolly. "Wedding-cake, ma'am!" he +said. + +"Bride-cake it is, Mr. Harley!" + +"Did you make it yourself, ma'am?" + +The quiet ease of the question overwhelmed Mrs. Berry and upset that +train of symbolic representations by which she was seeking to make him +guess the catastrophe and spare her the furnace of confession. + +"I did not make it myself, Mr. Harley," she replied. "It's a bought +cake, and I'm a lost woman. Little I dreamed when I had him in my arms +a baby that I should some day be marrying him out of my own house! I +little dreamed that! Oh, why did he come to me! Don't you remember his +old nurse, when he was a baby in arms, that went away so sudden, and no +fault of hers, Mr. Harley! The very mornin' after the night you got into +Mr. Benson's cellar, and got so tipsy on his Madeary--I remember it as +clear as yesterday!--and Mr. Benson was that angry he threatened to use +the whip to you, and I helped put you to bed. I'm that very woman." + +Adrian smiled placidly at these reminiscences of his guileless youthful +life. + +"Well, ma'am! well?" he said. He would bring her to the furnace. + +"Won't you see it all, kind sir?" Mrs. Berry appealed to him in pathetic +dumb show. + +Doubtless by this time Adrian did see it all, and was mentally cursing +at Folly, and reckoning the immediate consequences, but he looked +uninstructed, his peculiar dimple-smile was undisturbed, his comfortable +full-bodied posture was the same. "Well, ma'am?" he spurred her on. + +Mrs. Berry burst forth: "It were done this mornin', Mr. Harley, in the +church, at half-past eleven of the clock, or twenty to, by licence." + +Adrian was now obliged to comprehend a case of matrimony. "Oh!" he said, +like one who is as hard as facts, and as little to be moved: "Somebody +was married this morning; was it Mr. Thompson, or Mr. Feverel?" + +Mrs. Berry shuffled up to Ripton, and removed the shawl from him, +saying: "Do he look like a new married bridegroom, Mr. Harley?" + +Adrian inspected the oblivious Ripton with philosophic gravity. + +"This young gentleman was at church this morning?" he asked. + +"Oh! quite reasonable and proper then," Mrs. Berry begged him to +understand. + +"Of course, ma'am." Adrian lifted and let fall the stupid inanimate +limbs of the gone wretch, puckering his mouth queerly. "You were all +reasonable and proper, ma'am. The principal male performer, then, is my +cousin, Mr. Feverel? He was married by you, this morning, by licence at +your parish church, and came here, and ate a hearty breakfast, and left +intoxicated." + +Mrs. Berry flew out. "He never drink a drop, sir. A more moderate young +gentleman you never see. Oh! don't ye think that now, Mr. Harley. He was +as upright and master of his mind as you be." + +"Ay!" the wise youth nodded thanks to her for the comparison, "I mean +the other form of intoxication." + +Mrs. Berry sighed. She could say nothing on that score. + +Adrian desired her to sit down, and compose herself, and tell him +circumstantially what had been done. + +She obeyed, in utter perplexity at his perfectly composed demeanour. + +Mrs. Berry, as her recital declared, was no other than that identical +woman who once in old days had dared to behold the baronet behind his +mask, and had ever since lived in exile from the Raynham world on a +little pension regularly paid to her as an indemnity. She was that +woman, and the thought of it made her almost accuse Providence for the +betraying excess of softness it had endowed her with. How was she to +recognize her baby grown a man? He came in a feigned name; not a word +of the family was mentioned. He came like an ordinary mortal, though +she felt something more than ordinary to him--she knew she did. He came +bringing a beautiful young lady, and on what grounds could she turn her +back on them? Why, seeing that all was chaste and legal, why should she +interfere to make them unhappy--so few the chances of happiness in this +world! Mrs. Berry related the seizure of her ring. + +"One wrench," said the sobbing culprit, "one, and my ring was off!" + +She had no suspicions, and the task of writing her name in the +vestry-book had been too enacting for a thought upon the other +signatures. + +"I daresay you were exceedingly sorry for what you had done," said +Adrian. + +"Indeed, sir," moaned Berry, "I were, and am." + +"And would do your best to rectify the mischief--eh, ma'am?" + +"Indeed, and indeed, sir, I would," she protested solemnly. + +"--As, of course, you should--knowing the family. Where may these +lunatics have gone to spend the Moon?" + +Mrs. Berry swimmingly replied: "To the Isle--I don't quite know, sir!" +she snapped the indication short, and jumped out of the pit she had +fallen into. Repentant as she might be, those dears should not be +pursued and cruelly balked of their young bliss! "To-morrow, if you +please, Mr. Harley: not to-day!" + +"A pleasant spot," Adrian observed, smiling at his easy prey. + +By a measurement of dates he discovered that the bridegroom had brought +his bride to the house on the day he had quitted Raynham, and this +was enough to satisfy Adrian's mind that there had been concoction and +chicanery. Chance, probably, had brought him to the old woman: chance +certainly had not brought him to the young one. + +"Very well, ma'am," he said, in answer to her petitions for his +favourable offices with Sir Austin in behalf of her little pension and +the bridal pair, "I will tell him you were only a blind agent in the +affair, being naturally soft, and that you trust he will bless the +consummation. He will be in town to-morrow morning; but one of you two +must see him to-night. An emetic kindly administered will set our friend +here on his legs. A bath and a clean shirt, and he might go. I don't +see why your name should appear at all. Brush him up, and send him to +Bellingham by the seven o'clock train. He will find his way to Raynham; +he knows the neighbourhood best in the dark. Let him go and state the +case. Remember, one of you must go." + +With this fair prospect of leaving a choice of a perdition between the +couple of unfortunates, for them to fight and lose all their virtues +over, Adrian said, "Good morning." + +Mrs. Berry touchingly arrested him. "You won't refuse a piece of his +cake, Mr. Harley?" + +"Oh, dear, no, ma'am," Adrian turned to the cake with alacrity. "I shall +claim a very large piece. Richard has a great many friends who will +rejoice to eat his wedding-cake. Cut me a fair quarter, Mrs. Berry. Put +it in paper, if you please. I shall be delighted to carry it to them, +and apportion it equitably according to their several degrees of +relationship." + +Mrs. Berry cut the cake. Somehow, as she sliced through it, the +sweetness and hapless innocence of the bride was presented to her, and +she launched into eulogies of Lucy, and clearly showed how little she +regretted her conduct. She vowed that they seemed made for each other; +that both, were beautiful; both had spirit; both were innocent; and to +part them, or make them unhappy, would be, Mrs. Berry wrought herself to +cry aloud, oh, such a pity! + +Adrian listened to it as the expression of a matter-of-fact opinion. He +took the huge quarter of cake, nodded multitudinous promises, and left +Mrs. Berry to bless his good heart. + +"So dies the System!" was Adrian's comment in the street. "And now let +prophets roar! He dies respectably in a marriage-bed, which is more than +I should have foretold of the monster. Meantime," he gave the cake a +dramatic tap, "I'll go sow nightmares." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +Adrian really bore the news he had heard with creditable +disinterestedness, and admirable repression of anything beneath the +dignity of a philosopher. When one has attained that felicitous point +of wisdom from which one sees all mankind to be fools, the diminutive +objects may make what new moves they please, one does not marvel at +them: their sedateness is as comical as their frolic, and their frenzies +more comical still. On this intellectual eminence the wise youth +had built his castle, and he had lived in it from an early period. +Astonishment never shook the foundations, nor did envy of greater +heights tempt him to relinquish the security of his stronghold, for he +saw none. Jugglers he saw running up ladders that overtopped him, and +air-balloons scaling the empyrean; but the former came precipitately +down again, and the latter were at the mercy of the winds; while he +remained tranquil on his solid unambitious ground, fitting his morality +to the laws, his conscience to his morality, his comfort to his +conscience. Not that voluntarily he cut himself off from his fellows: on +the contrary, his sole amusement was their society. Alone he was rather +dull, as a man who beholds but one thing must naturally be. Study of the +animated varieties of that one thing excited him sufficiently to think +life a pleasant play; and the faculties he had forfeited to hold his +elevated position he could serenely enjoy by contemplation of them in +others. Thus:--wonder at Master Richard's madness: though he himself +did not experience it, he was eager to mark the effect on his beloved +relatives. As he carried along his vindictive hunch of cake, he shaped +out their different attitudes of amaze, bewilderment, horror; passing +by some personal chagrin in the prospect. For his patron had projected a +journey, commencing with Paris, culminating on the Alps, and lapsing in +Rome: a delightful journey to show Richard the highways of History and +tear him from the risk of further ignoble fascinations, that his spirit +might be altogether bathed in freshness and revived. This had been +planned during Richard's absence to surprise him. + +Now the dream of travel was to Adrian what the love of woman is to the +race of young men. It supplanted that foolishness. It was his Romance, +as we say; that buoyant anticipation on which in youth we ride the airs, +and which, as we wax older and too heavy for our atmosphere, hardens to +the Hobby, which, if an obstinate animal, is a safer horse, and conducts +man at a slower pace to the sexton. Adrian had never travelled. He was +aware that his romance was earthly and had discomforts only to be evaded +by the one potent talisman possessed by his patron. His Alp would hardly +be grand to him without an obsequious landlord in the foreground: +he must recline on Mammon's imperial cushions in order to moralize +becomingly on the ancient world. The search for pleasure at the expense +of discomfort, as frantic lovers woo their mistresses to partake the +shelter of a but and batten on a crust, Adrian deemed the bitterness +of beggarliness. Let his sweet mistress be given him in the pomp and +splendour due to his superior emotions, or not at all. Consequently the +wise youth had long nursed an ineffectual passion, and it argued a great +nature in him, that at the moment when his wishes were to be crowned, he +should look with such slight touches of spleen at the gorgeous composite +fabric of Parisian cookery and Roman antiquities crumbling into +unsubstantial mockery. Assuredly very few even of the philosophers would +have turned away uncomplainingly to meaner delights the moment after. + +Hippias received the first portion of the cake. + +He was sitting by the window in his hotel, reading. He had fought down +his breakfast with more than usual success, and was looking forward to +his dinner at the Foreys' with less than usual timidity. + +"Ah! glad you've come, Adrian," he said, and expanded his chest. "I was +afraid I should have to ride down. This is kind of you. We'll walk down +together through the park. It's absolutely dangerous to walk alone in +these streets. My opinion is, that orange-peel lasts all through the +year now, and will till legislation puts a stop to it. I give you +my word I slipped on a piece of orange-peel yesterday afternoon in +Piccadilly, and I thought I was down! I saved myself by a miracle." + +"You have an appetite, I hope?" asked Adrian. + +"I think I shall get one, after a bit of a walk," chirped Hippias. "Yes. +I think I feel hungry now." + +"Charmed to hear it," said Adrian, and began unpinning his parcel on his +knees. "How should you define Folly?" he checked the process to inquire. + +"Hm!" Hippias meditated; he prided himself on being oracular when such +questions were addressed to him. "I think I should define it to be a +slide." + +"Very good definition. In other words, a piece of orange-peel; once on +it, your life and limbs are in danger, and you are saved by a miracle. +You must present that to the Pilgrim. And the monument of folly, what +would that be?" + +Hippias meditated anew. "All the human race on one another's shoulders." +He chuckled at the sweeping sourness of the instance. + +"Very good," Adrian applauded, "or in default of that, some symbol of +the thing, say; such as this of which I have here brought you a chip." + +Adrian displayed the quarter of the cake. + +"This is the monument made portable--eh?" + +"Cake!" cried Hippias, retreating to his chair to dramatize his intense +disgust. "You're right of them that eat it. If I--if I don't mistake," +he peered at it, "the noxious composition bedizened in that way is what +they call wedding-cake. It's arrant poison! Who is it you want to kill? +What are you carrying such stuff about for?" + +Adrian rang the bell for a knife. "To present you with your due and +proper portion. You will have friends and relatives, and can't be saved +from them, not even by miracle. It is a habit which exhibits, perhaps, +the unconscious inherent cynicism of the human mind, for people who +consider that they have reached the acme of mundane felicity, to +distribute this token of esteem to their friends, with the object +probably" (he took the knife from a waiter and went to the table to +slice the cake) "of enabling those friends (these edifices require very +delicate incision--each particular currant and subtle condiment hangs to +its neighbour--a wedding-cake is evidently the most highly civilized +of cakes, and partakes of the evils as well as the advantages of +civilization!)--I was saying, they send us these love-tokens, no doubt +(we shall have to weigh out the crumbs, if each is to have his fair +share) that we may the better estimate their state of bliss by passing +some hours in purgatory. This, as far as I can apportion it without +weights and scales, is your share, my uncle!" + +He pushed the corner of the table bearing the cake towards Hippias. + +"Get away!" Hippias vehemently motioned, and started from his chair. +"I'll have none of it, I tell you! It's death! It's fifty times worse +than that beastly compound Christmas pudding! What fool has been doing +this, then? Who dares send me cake? Me! It's an insult." + +"You are not compelled to eat any before dinner," said Adrian, pointing +the corner of the table after him, "but your share you must take, and +appear to consume. One who has done so much to bring about the marriage +cannot in conscience refuse his allotment of the fruits. Maidens, I +hear, first cook it under their pillows, and extract nuptial dreams +therefrom--said to be of a lighter class, taken that way. It's a capital +cake, and, upon my honour, you have helped to make it--you have indeed! +So here it is." + +The table again went at Hippias. He ran nimbly round it, and flung +himself on a sofa exhausted, crying: "There!... My appetite's gone for +to-day!" + +"Then shall I tell Richard that you won't touch a morsel of his cake?" +said Adrian, leaning on his two hands over the table and looking at his +uncle. + +"Richard?" + +"Yes, your nephew: my cousin: Richard! Your companion since you've been +in town. He's married, you know. Married this morning at Kensington +parish church, by licence, at half-past eleven of the clock, or twenty +to. Married, and gone to spend his honeymoon in the Isle of Wight, a +very delectable place for a month's residence. I have to announce to you +that, thanks to your assistance, the experiment is launched, sir!" + +"Richard married!" + +There was something to think and to say in objection to it, but the wits +of poor Hippias were softened by the shock. His hand travelled half-way +to his forehead, spread out to smooth the surface of that seat of +reason, and then fell. + +"Surely you knew all about it? you were so anxious to have him in town +under your charge...." + +"Married?" Hippias jumped up--he had it. "Why, he's under age! he's an +infant." + +"So he is. But the infant is not the less married. Fib like a man and +pay your fee--what does it matter? Any one who is breeched can obtain a +licence in our noble country. And the interests of morality demand that +it should not be difficult. Is it true--can you persuade anybody that +you have known nothing about it?" + +"Ha! infamous joke! I wish, sir, you would play your pranks on somebody +else," said Hippias, sternly, as he sank back on the sofa. "You've done +me up for the day, I can assure you." + +Adrian sat down to instil belief by gentle degrees, and put an artistic +finish to the work. He had the gratification of passing his uncle +through varied contortions, and at last Hippias perspired in conviction, +and exclaimed, "This accounts for his conduct to me. That boy must have +a cunning nothing short of infernal! I feel...I feel it just here, he +drew a hand along his midriff. + +"I'm not equal to this world of fools," he added faintly, and shut his +eyes. "No, I can't dine. Eat? ha!... no. Go without me!" + +Shortly after, Hippias went to bed, saying to himself, as he undressed, +"See what comes of our fine schemes! Poor Austin!" and as the pillow +swelled over his ears, "I'm not sure that a day's fast won't do me +good." The Dyspepsy had bought his philosophy at a heavy price; he had a +right to use it. + +Adrian resumed the procession of the cake. + +He sighted his melancholy uncle Algernon hunting an appetite in the +Row, and looking as if the hope ahead of him were also one-legged. The +Captain did not pass with out querying the ungainly parcel. + +"I hope I carry it ostentatiously enough?" said Adrian. + +"Enclosed is wherewithal to quiet the alarm of the land. Now may the +maids and wives of Merry England sleep secure. I had half a mind to fix +it on a pole, and engage a band to parade it. This is our dear Richard's +wedding-cake. Married at half-past eleven this morning, by licence, at +the Kensington parish church; his own ring being lost he employed +the ring of his beautiful bride's lachrymose land-lady, she standing +adjacent by the altar. His farewell to you as a bachelor, and hers as +a maid, you can claim on the spot if you think proper, and digest +according to your powers." + +Algernon let off steam in a whistle. "Thompson, the solicitor's +daughter!" he said. "I met them the other day, somewhere about here. He +introduced me to her. A pretty little baggage. + +"No." Adrian set him right. "'Tis a Miss Desborough, a Roman Catholic +dairymaid. Reminds one of pastoral England in the time of the +Plantagenets! He's quite equal to introducing her as Thompson's +daughter, and himself as Beelzebub's son. However, the wild animal is in +Hymen's chains, and the cake is cut. Will you have your morsel?" + +"Oh, by all means!--not now." Algernon had an unwonted air of +reflection.--"Father know it?" + +"Not yet. He will to-night by nine o'clock." + +"Then I must see him by seven. Don't say you met me." He nodded, and +pricked his horse. + +"Wants money!" said Adrian, putting the combustible he carried once more +in motion. + +The women were the crowning joy of his contemplative mind. He had +reserved them for his final discharge. Dear demonstrative creatures! +Dyspepsia would not weaken their poignant outcries, or self-interest +check their fainting fits. On the generic woman one could calculate. +Well might The Pilgrim's Scrip say of her that, "She is always at +Nature's breast"; not intending it as a compliment. Each woman is Eve +throughout the ages; whereas the Pilgrim would have us believe that +the Adam in men has become warier, if not wiser; and weak as he is, has +learnt a lesson from time. Probably the Pilgrim's meaning may be taken +to be, that Man grows, and Woman does not. + +At any rate, Adrian hoped for such natural choruses as you hear in the +nursery when a bauble is lost. He was awake to Mrs. Doria's maternal +predestinations, and guessed that Clare stood ready with the best +form of filial obedience. They were only a poor couple to gratify his +Mephistophelian humour, to be sure, but Mrs. Doria was equal to twenty, +and they would proclaim the diverse ways with which maidenhood and +womanhood took disappointment, while the surrounding Forey girls and +other females of the family assembly were expected to develop the finer +shades and tapering edges of an agitation to which no woman could be +cold. + +All went well. He managed cleverly to leave the cake unchallenged in a +conspicuous part of the drawing-room, and stepped gaily down to dinner. +Much of the conversation adverted to Richard. Mrs. Doria asked him if he +had seen the youth, or heard of him. + +"Seen him? no! Heard of him? yes!" said Adrian. "I have heard of him. I +heard that he was sublimely happy, and had eaten such a breakfast that +dinner was impossible; claret and cold chicken, cake and"-- + +"Cake at breakfast!" they all interjected. + +"That seems to be his fancy just now." + +"What an extraordinary taste!" + +"You know, he is educated on a System." + +One fast young male Forey allied the System and the cake in a miserable +pun. Adrian, a hater of puns, looked at him, and held the table silent, +as if he were going to speak; but he said nothing, and the young +gentleman vanished from the conversation in a blush, extinguished by his +own spark. + +Mrs. Doria peevishly exclaimed, "Oh! fish-cake, I suppose! I wish he +understood a little better the obligations of relationship." + +"Whether he understands them, I can't say," observed Adrian, "but I +assure you he is very energetic in extending them." + +The wise youth talked innuendoes whenever he had an opportunity, that +his dear relative might be rendered sufficiently inflammable by and by +at the aspect of the cake; but he was not thought more than commonly +mysterious and deep. + +"Was his appointment at the house of those Grandison people?" Mrs. Doria +asked, with a hostile upper-lip. + +Adrian warmed the blindfolded parties by replying, "Do they keep a +beadle at the door?" + +Mrs. Doria's animosity to Mrs. Grandison made her treat this as a piece +of satirical ingenuousness. "I daresay they do," she said. + +"And a curate on hand?" + +"Oh, I should think a dozen!" + +Old Mr. Forey advised his punning grandson Clarence to give that house +a wide berth, where he might be disposed of and dished-up at a moment's +notice, and the scent ran off at a jest. + +The Foreys gave good dinners, and with the old gentleman the excellent +old fashion remained in permanence of trooping off the ladies as soon +as they had taken their sustenance and just exchanged a smile with the +flowers and the dessert, when they rose to fade with a beautiful accord, +and the gallant males breathed under easier waistcoats, and settled to +the business of the table, sure that an hour for unbosoming and imbibing +was their own. Adrian took a chair by Brandon Forey, a barrister of +standing. + +"I want to ask you," he said, "whether an infant in law can legally bind +himself." + +"If he's old enough to affix his signature to an instrument, I suppose +he can," yawned Brandon. + +"Is he responsible for his acts?" + +"I've no doubt we could hang him." + +"Then what he could do for himself, you could do for him?" + +"Not quite so much; pretty near." + +"For instance, he can marry?" + +"That's not a criminal case, you know." + +"And the marriage is valid?" + +"You can dispute it." + +"Yes, and the Greeks and the Trojans can fight. It holds then?" + +"Both water and fire!" + +The patriarch of the table sang out to Adrian that he stopped the +vigorous circulation of the claret. + +"Dear me, sir!" said Adrian, "I beg pardon. The circumstances must +excuse me. The fact is, my cousin Richard got married to a dairymaid +this morning, and I wanted to know whether it held in law." + +It was amusing to watch the manly coolness with which the announcement +was taken. Nothing was heard more energetic than, "Deuce he has!" and, +"A dairymaid!" + +"I thought it better to let the ladies dine in peace," Adrian continued. +"I wanted to be able to console my aunt"-- + +"Well, but--well, but," the old gentleman, much the most excited, +puffed--"eh, Brandon? He's a boy, this young ass! Do you mean to tell +me a boy can go and marry when he pleases, and any troll he pleases, +and the marriage is good? If I thought that I'd turn every woman off my +premises. I would! from the housekeeper to the scullery-maid. I'd have +no woman near him till--till"-- + +"Till the young greenhorn was grey, sir?" suggested Brandon. + +"Till he knew what women are made of, sir!" the old gentleman finished +his sentence vehemently. "What, d'ye think, will Feverel say to it, Mr. +Adrian?" + +"He has been trying the very System you have proposed sir--one that +does not reckon on the powerful action of curiosity on the juvenile +intelligence. I'm afraid it's the very worst way of solving the +problem." + +"Of course it is," said Clarence. "None but a fool!"-- + +"At your age," Adrian relieved his embarrassment, "it is natural, my +dear Clarence, that you should consider the idea of an isolated or +imprisoned manhood something monstrous, and we do not expect you to see +what amount of wisdom it contains. You follow one extreme, and we the +other. I don't say that a middle course exists. The history of mankind +shows our painful efforts to find one, but they have invariably resolved +themselves into asceticism, or laxity, acting and reacting. The moral +question is, if a naughty little man, by reason of his naughtiness, +releases himself from foolishness, does a foolish little man, by reason +of his foolishness, save himself from naughtiness?" + +A discussion, peculiar to men of the world, succeeded the laugh at Mr. +Clarence. Then coffee was handed round and the footman informed Adrian, +in a low voice, that Mrs. Doria Forey particularly wished to speak with +him. Adrian preferred not to go in alone. "Very well," he said, and +sipped his coffee. They talked on, sounding the depths of law in Brandon +Forey, and receiving nought but hollow echoes from that profound cavity. +He would not affirm that the marriage was invalid: he would not affirm +that it could not be annulled. He thought not: still he thought it would +be worth trying. A consummated and a non-consummated union were two +different things.... + +"Dear me!" said Adrian, "does the Law recognize that? Why, that's almost +human!" + +Another message was brought to Adrian that Mrs. Doria Forey very +particularly wished to speak with him. + +"What can be the matter?" he exclaimed, pleased to have his faith in +woman strengthened. The cake had exploded, no doubt. + +So it proved, when the gentlemen joined the fair society. All the +younger ladies stood about the table, whereon the cake stood displayed, +gaps being left for those sitting to feast their vision, and intrude +the comments and speculations continually arising from fresh shocks of +wonder at the unaccountable apparition. Entering with the half-guilty +air of men who know they have come from a grosser atmosphere, the +gallant males also ranged themselves round the common object of +curiosity. + +"Here! Adrian!" Mrs. Doria cried. "Where is Adrian? Pray, come here. +Tell me! Where did this cake come from? Whose is it? What does it do +here? You know all about it, for you brought it. Clare saw you bring it +into the room. What does it mean? I insist upon a direct answer. Now do +not make me impatient, Adrian." + +Certainly Mrs. Doria was equal to twenty. By her concentrated rapidity +and volcanic complexion it was evident that suspicion had kindled. + +"I was really bound to bring it," Adrian protested. + +"Answer me!" + +The wise youth bowed: "Categorically. This cake came from the house of a +person, a female, of the name of Berry. It belongs to you partly, partly +to me, partly to Clare, and to the rest of our family, on the principle +of equal division for which purpose it is present...." + +"Yes! Speak!" + +"It means, my dear aunt, what that kind of cake usually does mean." + +"This, then, is the Breakfast! And the ring! Adrian! where is Richard?" + +Mrs. Doria still clung to unbelief in the monstrous horror. + +But when Adrian told her that Richard had left town, her struggling +hope sank. "The wretched boy has ruined himself!" she said, and sat down +trembling. + +Oh! that System! The delicate vituperations gentle ladies use instead of +oaths, Mrs. Doria showered on that System. She hesitated not to say that +her brother had got what he deserved. Opinionated, morbid, weak, justice +had overtaken him. Now he would see! but at what a price! at what a +sacrifice! + +Mrs. Doria, commanded Adrian to confirm her fears. + +Sadly the wise youth recapitulated Berry's words. "He was married +this morning at half-past eleven of the clock, or twenty to twelve, by +licence, at the Kensington parish church." + +"Then that was his appointment!" Mrs. Doria murmured. + +"That was the cake for breakfast!" breathed a second of her sex. + +"And it was his ring!" exclaimed a third. + +The men were silent, and made long faces. + +Clare stood cold and sedate. She and her mother avoided each other's +eyes. + +"Is it that abominable country person, Adrian?" + +"The happy damsel is, I regret to say, the Papist dairymaid," said +Adrian, in sorrowful but deliberate accents. + +Then arose a feminine hum, in the midst of which Mrs. Doria cried, +"Brandon!" She was a woman of energy. Her thoughts resolved to action +spontaneously. + +"Brandon," she drew the barrister a little aside, "can they not be +followed, and separated? I want your advice. Cannot we separate them? +A boy! it is really shameful if he should be allowed to fall into the +toils of a designing creature to ruin himself irrevocably. Can we not, +Brandon?" + +The worthy barrister felt inclined to laugh, but he answered her +entreaties: "From what I hear of the young groom I should imagine the +office perilous." + +"I'm speaking of law, Brandon. Can we not obtain an order from one of +your Courts to pursue them and separate them instantly?" + +"This evening?" + +"Yes!" + +Brandon was sorry to say she decidedly could not. + +"You might call on one of your Judges, Brandon." + +Brandon assured her that the Judges were a hard-worked race, and to a +man slept heavily after dinner. + +"Will you do so to-morrow, the first thing in the morning? Will you +promise me to do so, Brandon?--Or a magistrate! A magistrate would send +a policeman after them. My dear Brandon! I beg--I beg you to assist us +in this dreadful extremity. It will be the death of my poor brother. I +believe he would forgive anything but this. You have no idea what his +notions are of blood." + +Brandon tipped Adrian a significant nod to step in and aid. + +"What is it, aunt?" asked the wise youth. "You want them followed and +torn asunder by wild policemen?" + +"To-morrow!" Brandon queerly interposed. + +"Won't that be--just too late?" Adrian suggested. + +Mrs. Doria, sighed out her last spark of hope. + +"You see," said Adrian.... + +"Yes! yes!" Mrs. Doria did not require any of his elucidations. "Pray +be quiet, Adrian, and let me speak. Brandon! it cannot be! it's quite +impossible! Can you stand there and tell me that boy is legally married? +I never will believe it! The law cannot be so shamefully bad as to +permit a boy--a mere child--to do such absurd things. Grandpapa!" she +beckoned to the old gentleman. "Grandpapa! pray do make Brandon speak. +These lawyers never will. He might stop it, if he would. If I were a +man, do you think I would stand here?" + +"Well, my dear," the old gentleman toddled to compose her, "I'm quite +of your opinion. I believe he knows no more than you or I. My belief is +they none of them know anything till they join issue and go into Court. +I want to see a few female lawyers." + +"To encourage the bankrupt perruquier, sir?" said Adrian. "They would +have to keep a large supply of wigs on hand." + +"And you can jest, Adrian!" his aunt reproached him. "But I will not be +beaten. I know--I am firmly convinced that no law would ever allow a +boy to disgrace his family and ruin himself like that, and nothing shall +persuade me that it is so. Now, tell me, Brandon, and pray do speak +in answer to my questions, and please to forget you are dealing with a +woman. Can my nephew be rescued from the consequences of his folly? Is +what he has done legitimate? Is he bound for life by what he has done +while a boy? + +"Well--a," Brandon breathed through his teeth. "A--hm! the matter's so +very delicate, you see, Helen." + +"You're to forget that," Adrian remarked. + +"A--hm! well!" pursued Brandon. "Perhaps if you could arrest and divide +them before nightfall, and make affidavit of certain facts"... + +"Yes?" the eager woman hastened his lagging mouth. + +"Well...hm! a...in that case...a... Or if a lunatic, you could prove him +to have been of unsound mind."... + +"Oh! there's no doubt of his madness on my mind, Brandon." + +"Yes! well! in that case... Or if of different religious persuasions"... + +"She is a Catholic!" Mrs. Doria joyfully interjected. + +"Yes! well! in that case...objections might be taken to the form of +the marriage... Might be proved fictitious... Or if he's under, say, +eighteen years"... + +"He can't be much more," cried Mrs. Doria. "I think," she appeared to +reflect, and then faltered imploringly to Adrian, "What is Richard's +age?" + +The kind wise youth could not find it in his heart to strike away the +phantom straw she caught at. + +"Oh! about that, I should fancy," he muttered; and found it necessary +at the same time to duck and turn his head for concealment. Mrs. Doria +surpassed his expectations. + +"Yes I well, then..." Brandon was resuming with a shrug, which was meant +to say he still pledged himself to nothing, when Clare's voice was heard +from out the buzzing circle of her cousins: "Richard is nineteen years +and six months old to-day, mama." + +"Nonsense, child." + +"He is, mama." Clare's voice was very steadfast. + +"Nonsense, I tell you. How can you know?" + +"Richard is one year and nine months older than me, mama." + +Mrs. Doria fought the fact by years and finally by months. Clare was too +strong for her. + +"Singular child!" she mentally apostrophized the girl who scornfully +rejected straws while drowning. + +"But there's the religion still!" she comforted herself, and sat down to +cogitate. + +The men smiled and looked vacuous. + +Music was proposed. There are times when soft music hath not charms; +when it is put to as base uses as Imperial Caesar's dust and is taken to +fill horrid pauses. Angelica Forey thumped the piano, and sang: "I'm +a laughing Gitana, ha-ha! ha-ha!" Matilda Forey and her cousin Mary +Branksburne wedded their voices, and songfully incited all young people +to Haste to the bower that love has built, and defy the wise ones of the +world; but the wise ones of the world were in a majority there, and very +few places of assembly will be found where they are not; so the glowing +appeal of the British ballad-monger passed into the bosom of the +emptiness he addressed. Clare was asked to entertain the company. The +singular child calmly marched to the instrument, and turned over the +appropriate illustrations to the ballad-monger's repertory. + +Clare sang a little Irish air. Her duty done, she marched from the +piano. Mothers are rarely deceived by their daughters in these matters; +but Clare deceived her mother; and Mrs. Doria only persisted in feeling +an agony of pity for her child, that she might the more warrantably pity +herself--a not uncommon form of the emotion, for there is no juggler +like that heart the ballad-monger puts into our mouths so boldly. +Remember that she saw years of self-denial, years of a ripening scheme, +rendered fruitless in a minute, and by the System which had almost +reduced her to the condition of constitutional hypocrite. She had enough +of bitterness to brood over, and some excuse for self-pity. + +Still, even when she was cooler, Mrs. Doria's energetic nature prevented +her from giving up. Straws were straws, and the frailer they were the +harder she clutched them. + +She rose from her chair, and left the room, calling to Adrian to follow +her. + +"Adrian," she said, turning upon him in the passage, "you mentioned a +house where this horrible cake...where he was this morning. I desire you +to take me to that woman immediately." + +The wise youth had not bargained for personal servitude. He had hoped +he should be in time for the last act of the opera that night, after +enjoying the comedy of real life. + +"My dear aunt"...he was beginning to insinuate. + +"Order a cab to be sent for, and get your hat," said Mrs. Doria. + +There was nothing for it but to obey. He stamped his assent to the +Pilgrim's dictum, that Women are practical creatures, and now reflected +on his own account, that relationship to a young fool may be a vexation +and a nuisance. However, Mrs. Doria compensated him. + +What Mrs. Doria intended to do, the practical creature did not plainly +know; but her energy positively demanded to be used in some way or +other, and her instinct directed her to the offender on whom she could +use it in wrath. She wanted somebody to be angry with, somebody to +abuse. She dared not abuse her brother to his face: him she would have +to console. Adrian was a fellow-hypocrite to the System, and would, she +was aware, bring her into painfully delicate, albeit highly philosophic, +ground by a discussion of the case. So she drove to Bessy Berry simply +to inquire whither her nephew had flown. + +When a soft woman, and that soft woman a sinner, is matched with a woman +of energy, she does not show much fight, and she meets no mercy. Bessy +Berry's creditor came to her in female form that night. She then beheld +it in all its terrors. Hitherto it had appeared to her as a male, a +disembodied spirit of her imagination possessing male attributes, +and the peculiar male characteristic of being moved, and ultimately +silenced, by tears. As female, her creditor was terrible indeed. Still, +had it not been a late hour, Bessy Berry would have died rather than +speak openly that her babes had sped to make their nest in the Isle of +Wight. They had a long start, they were out of the reach of pursuers, +they were safe, and she told what she had to tell. She told more than +was wise of her to tell. She made mention of her early service in +the family, and of her little pension. Alas! her little pension! Her +creditor had come expecting no payment--come; as creditors are wont in +such moods, just to take it out of her--to employ the familiar term. At +once Mrs. Doria pounced upon the pension. + +"That, of course, you know is at an end," she said in the calmest +manner, and Berry did not plead for the little bit of bread to her. She +only asked a little consideration for her feelings. + +True admirers of women had better stand aside from the scene. +Undoubtedly it was very sad for Adrian to be compelled to witness it. +Mrs. Doria was not generous. The Pilgrim may be wrong about the sex +not growing; but its fashion of conducting warfare we must allow to be +barbarous, and according to what is deemed the pristine, or wild cat, +method. Ruin, nothing short of it, accompanied poor Berry to her bed +that night, and her character bled till morning on her pillow. + +The scene over, Adrian reconducted Mrs. Doria to her home. Mice had +been at the cake during her absence apparently. The ladies and gentlemen +present put it on the greedy mice, who were accused of having gorged and +gone to bed. + +"I'm sure they're quite welcome," said Mrs. Doria. "It's a farce, this +marriage, and Adrian has quite come to my way of thinking. I would not +touch an atom of it. Why, they were married in a married woman's ring! +Can that be legal, as you call it? Oh, I'm convinced! Don't tell me. +Austin will be in town to-morrow, and if he is true to his principles, +he will instantly adopt measures to rescue his son from infamy. I want +no legal advice. I go upon common sense, common decency. This marriage +is false." + +Mrs. Doria's fine scheme had become so much a part of her life, that she +could not give it up. She took Clare to her bed, and caressed and wept +over her, as she would not have done had she known the singular child, +saying, "Poor Richard! my dear poor boy! we must save him, Clare! we +must save him!" Of the two the mother showed the greater want of iron on +this occasion. Clare lay in her arms rigid and emotionless, with one +of her hands tight-locked. All she said was: "I knew it in the morning, +mama." She slept clasping Richard's nuptial ring. + +By this time all specially concerned in the System knew it. The +honeymoon was shoring placidly above them. Is not happiness like another +circulating medium? When we have a very great deal of it, some poor +hearts are aching for what is taken away from them. When we have gone +out and seized it on the highways, certain inscrutable laws are sure to +be at work to bring us to the criminal bar, sooner or later. Who knows +the honeymoon that did not steal somebody's sweetness? Richard Turpin +went forth, singing "Money or life" to the world: Richard Feverel +has done the same, substituting "Happiness" for "Money," frequently +synonyms. The coin he wanted he would have, and was just as much a +highway robber as his fellow Dick, so that those who have failed to +recognize him as a hero before, may now regard him in that light. +Meanwhile the world he has squeezed looks exceedingly patient and +beautiful. His coin chinks delicious music to him. Nature and the order +of things on earth have no warmer admirer than a jolly brigand or a +young man made happy by the Jews. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +And now the author of the System was on trial under the eyes of the lady +who loved him. What so kind as they? Yet are they very rigorous, those +soft watchful woman's eyes. If you are below the measure they have made +of you, you will feel it in the fulness of time. She cannot but show you +that she took you for a giant, and has had to come down a bit. You feel +yourself strangely diminishing in those sweet mirrors, till at last they +drop on you complacently level. But, oh beware, vain man, of ever +waxing enamoured of that wonderful elongation of a male creature you saw +reflected in her adoring upcast orbs! Beware of assisting to delude her! +A woman who is not quite a fool will forgive your being but a man, if +you are surely that: she will haply learn to acknowledge that no mortal +tailor could have fitted that figure she made of you respectably, and +that practically (though she sighs to think it) her ideal of you was +on the pattern of an overgrown charity-boy in the regulation jacket and +breech. For this she first scorns the narrow capacities of the tailor, +and then smiles at herself. But shouldst thou, when the hour says +plainly, Be thyself, and the woman is willing to take thee as thou art, +shouldst thou still aspire to be that thing of shanks and wrests, wilt +thou not seem contemptible as well as ridiculous? And when the fall +comes, will it not be flat on thy face, instead of to the common height +of men? You may fall miles below her measure of you, and be safe: +nothing is damaged save an overgrown charity-boy; but if you fall below +the common height of men, you must make up your mind to see her rustle +her gown, spy at the looking-glass, and transfer her allegiance. The +moral of which is, that if we pretend to be what we are not, woman, for +whose amusement the farce is performed, will find us out and punish us +for it. And it is usually the end of a sentimental dalliance. + +Had Sir Austin given vent to the pain and wrath it was natural he should +feel, he might have gone to unphilosophic excesses, and, however much he +lowered his reputation as a sage, Lady Blandish would have excused him: +she would not have loved him less for seeing him closer. But the poor +gentleman tasked his soul and stretched his muscles to act up to her +conception of him. He, a man of science in life, who was bound to be +surprised by nothing in nature, it was not for him to do more than +lift his eyebrows and draw in his lips at the news delivered by Ripton +Thompson, that ill bird at Raynham. + +All he said, after Ripton had handed the letters and carried his +penitential headache to bed, was: "You see, Emmeline, it is useless to +base any system on a human being." + +A very philosophical remark for one who has been busily at work building +for nearly twenty years. Too philosophical to seem genuine. It revealed +where the blow struck sharpest. Richard was no longer the Richard of his +creation--his pride and his joy--but simply a human being with the rest. +The bright star had sunk among the mass. + +And yet, what had the young man done? And in what had the System failed? + +The lady could not but ask herself this, while she condoled with the +offended father. + +"My friend," she said, tenderly taking his hand before she retired, "I +know how deeply you must be grieved. I know what your disappointment +must be. I do not beg of you to forgive him now. You cannot doubt his +love for this young person, and according to his light, has he not +behaved honourably, and as you would have wished, rather than bring +her to shame? You will think of that. It has been an accident--a +misfortune--a terrible misfortune"... + +"The God of this world is in the machine--not out of it," Sir Austin +interrupted her, and pressed her hand to get the good-night over. + +At any other time her mind would have been arrested to admire the +phrase; now it seemed perverse, vain, false, and she was tempted to turn +the meaning that was in it against himself, much as she pitied him. + +"You know, Emmeline," he added, "I believe very little in the fortune, +or misfortune, to which men attribute their successes and reverses. They +are useful impersonations to novelists; but my opinion is sufficiently +high of flesh and blood to believe that we make our own history +without intervention. Accidents?--Terrible misfortunes?--What are +they?--Good-night." + +"Good-night," she said, looking sad and troubled. "When I said, +'misfortune,' I meant, of course, that he is to blame; but--shall I +leave you his letter to me?" + +"I think I have enough to meditate upon," he replied, coldly bowing. + +"God bless you," she whispered. "And--may I say it? do not shut your +heart." + +He assured her that he hoped not to do so and the moment she was gone he +set about shutting it as tight as he could. + +If, instead of saying, Base no system on a human being, he had said, +Never experimentalize with one, he would have been nearer the truth of +his own case. He had experimented on humanity in the person of the son +he loved as his life, and at once, when the experiment appeared to +have failed, all humanity's failings fell on the shoulders of his son. +Richard's parting laugh in the train--it was explicable now: it sounded +in his ears like the mockery of this base nature of ours at every +endeavour to exalt and chasten it. The young man had plotted this. From +step to step Sir Austin traced the plot. The curious mask he had worn +since his illness; the selection of his incapable uncle Hippias for a +companion in preference to Adrian; it was an evident, well-perfected +plot. That hideous laugh would not be silenced: Base, like the rest, +treacherous, a creature of passions using his abilities solely to +gratify them--never surely had humanity such chances as in him! A +Manichaean tendency, from which the sententious eulogist of nature had +been struggling for years (and which was partly at the bottom of the +System), now began to cloud and usurp dominion of his mind. As he sat +alone in the forlorn dead-hush of his library, he saw the devil. + +How are we to know when we are at the head and fountain of the fates of +them we love? + +There by the springs of Richard's future, his father sat: and the devil +said to him: "Only be quiet: do nothing: resolutely do nothing: your +object now is to keep a brave face to the world, so that all may know +you superior to this human nature that has deceived you. For it is the +shameless deception, not the marriage, that has wounded you." + +"Ay!" answered the baronet, "the shameless deception, not the marriage: +wicked and ruinous as it must be; a destroyer of my tenderest hopes! +my dearest schemes! Not the marriage--the shameless deception!" and he +crumpled up his son's letter to him, and tossed it into the fire. + +How are we to distinguish the dark chief of the Manichaeans when he +talks our own thoughts to us? + +Further he whispered, "And your System:--if you would be brave to the +world, have courage to cast the dream of it out of you: relinquish an +impossible project; see it as it is--dead: too good for men!" + +"Ay!" muttered the baronet: "all who would save them perish on the +Cross!" + +And so he sat nursing the devil. + +By and by he took his lamp, and put on the old cloak and cap, and went +to gaze at Ripton. That exhausted debauchee and youth without a destiny +slept a dead sleep. A handkerchief was bound about his forehead, and his +helpless sunken chin and snoring nose projected up the pillow, made him +look absurdly piteous. The baronet remembered how often he had compared +his boy with this one: his own bright boy! And where was the difference +between them? + +"Mere outward gilding!" said his familiar. + +"Yes," he responded, "I daresay this one never positively plotted +to deceive his father: he followed his appetites unchecked, and is +internally the sounder of the two." + +Ripton, with his sunken chin and snoring nose under the light of the +lamp, stood for human nature, honest, however abject. + +"Miss Random, I fear very much, is a necessary establishment!" whispered +the monitor. + +"Does the evil in us demand its natural food, or it corrupts the whole?" +ejaculated Sir Austin. "And is no angel of avail till that is drawn off? +And is that our conflict--to see whether we can escape the contagion of +its embrace, and come uncorrupted out of that?" + +"The world is wise in its way," said the voice. + +"Though it look on itself through Port wine?" he suggested, remembering +his lawyer Thompson. + +"Wise in not seeking to be too wise," said the voice. + +"And getting intoxicated on its drug of comfort!" + +"Human nature is weak." + +"And Miss Random is an establishment, and Wild Oats an institution!" + +"It always has been so." + +"And always will be?" + +"So I fear! in spite of your very noble efforts." + +"And leads--whither? And ends--where?" + +Richard's laugh, taken up by horrid reverberations, as it were through +the lengths of the Lower Halls, replied. + +This colloquy of two voices in a brain was concluded by Sir Austin +asking again if there were no actual difference between the flower of +his hopes and yonder drunken weed, and receiving for answer that +there was a decided dissimilarity in the smell of the couple; becoming +cognizant of which he retreated. + +Sir Austin did not battle with the tempter. He took him into his bosom +at once, as if he had been ripe for him, and received his suggestions +and bowed to his dictates. Because he suffered, and decreed that he +would suffer silently, and be the only sufferer, it seemed to him that +he was great-minded in his calamity. He had stood against the world. +The world had beaten him. What then? He must shut his heart and mask his +face; that was all. To be far in advance of the mass, is as fruitless +to mankind, he reflected, as straggling in the rear. For how do we know +that they move behind us at all, or move in our track? What we win for +them is lost; and where we are overthrown we lie! + +It was thus that a fine mind and a fine heart at the bounds of a +nature not great, chose to colour his retrogression and countenance his +shortcoming; and it was thus that he set about ruining the work he had +done. He might well say, as he once did, that there are hours when the +clearest soul becomes a cunning fox. For a grief that was private and +peculiar, he unhesitatingly cast the blame upon humanity; just as he had +accused it in the period of what he termed his own ordeal. How had he +borne that? By masking his face. And he prepared the ordeal for his +son by doing the same. This was by no means his idea of a man's duty in +tribulation, about which he could be strenuously eloquent. + +But it was his instinct so to act, and in times of trial great natures +alone are not at the mercy of their instincts. Moreover it would cost +him pain to mask his face; pain worse than that he endured when there +still remained an object for him to open his heart to in proportion; +and he always reposed upon the Spartan comfort of bearing pain and being +passive. "Do nothing," said the devil he nursed; which meant in his +case, "Take me into you and don't cast me out." Excellent and sane is +the outburst of wrath to men, when it stops short of slaughter. For who +that locks it up to eat in solitary, can say that it is consumed? Sir +Austin had as weak a digestion for wrath, as poor Hippias for a green +duckling. Instead of eating it, it ate him. The wild beast in him was +not the less deadly because it did not roar, and the devil in him not +the less active because he resolved to do nothing. + +He sat at the springs of Richard's future, in the forlorn dead-hush of +his library there, hearing the cinders click in the extinguished fire, +and that humming stillness in which one may fancy one hears the midnight +Fates busily stirring their embryos. The lamp glowed mildly on the bust +of Chatham. + +Toward morning a gentle knock fell at his door. Lady Blandish glided in. +With hasty step she came straight to him, and took both his hands. + +"My friend," she said, speaking tearfully, and trembling, "I feared I +should find you here. I could not sleep. How is it with you?" + +"Well! Emmeline, well!" he replied, torturing his brows to fix the mask. + +He wished it had been Adrian who had come to him. He had an +extraordinary longing for Adrian's society. He knew that the wise youth +would divine how to treat him, and he mentally confessed to just enough +weakness to demand a certain kind of management. Besides, Adrian, he had +not a doubt, would accept him entirely as he seemed, and not pester him +in any way by trying to unlock his heart; whereas a woman, he feared, +would be waxing too womanly, and swelling from tears and supplications +to a scene, of all things abhorred by him the most. So he rapped the +floor with his foot, and gave the lady no very welcome face when he said +it was well with him. + +She sat down by his side, still holding one hand firmly, and softly +detaining the other. + +"Oh, my friend! may I believe you? May I speak to you?" She leaned close +to him. "You know my heart. I have no better ambition than to be your +friend. Surely I divide your grief, and may I not claim your confidence? +Who has wept more over your great and dreadful sorrows? I would not have +come to you, but I do believe that sorrow shared relieves the burden, +and it is now that you may feel a woman's aid, and something of what a +woman could be to you...." + +"Be assured," he gravely said, "I thank you, Emmeline, for your +intentions." + +"No, no! not for my intentions! And do not thank me. Think of +him...think of your dear boy... Our Richard, as we have called him.--Oh! +do not think it a foolish superstition of mine, but I have had a thought +this night that has kept me in torment till I rose to speak to you... +Tell me first you have forgiven him." + +"A father bears no malice to his son, Emmeline." + +"Your heart has forgiven him?" + +"My heart has taken what he gave." + +"And quite forgiven him?" + +"You will hear no complaints of mine." + +The lady paused despondingly, and looked at him in a wistful manner, +saying with a sigh, "Yes! I know how noble you are, and different from +others!" + +He drew one of his hands from her relaxed hold. + +"You ought to be in bed, Emmeline." + +"I cannot sleep." + +"Go, and talk to me another time." + +"No, it must be now. You have helped me when I struggled to rise into a +clearer world, and I think, humble as I am, I can help you now. I have +had a thought this night that if you do not pray for him and bless +him...it will end miserably. My friend, have you done so?" + +He was stung and offended, and could hardly help showing it in spite of +his mask. + +"Have you done so, Austin?" + +"This is assuredly a new way of committing fathers to the follies of +their sons, Emmeline!" + +"No, not that. But will you pray for your boy, and bless him, before the +day comes?" + +He restrained himself to pronounce his words calmly:--"And I must do +this, or it will end in misery? How else can it end? Can I save him from +the seed he has sown? Consider, Emmeline, what you say. He has repeated +his cousin's sin. You see the end of that." + +"Oh, so different! This young person is not, is not of the class poor +Austin Wentworth allied himself to. Indeed it is different. And he--be +just and admit his nobleness. I fancied you did. This young person +has great beauty, she has the elements of good breeding, she--indeed I +think, had she been in another position, you would not have looked upon +her unfavourably." + +"She may be too good for my son!" The baronet spoke with sublime +bitterness. + +"No woman is too good for Richard, and you know it." + +"Pass her." + +"Yes, I will speak only of him. He met her by a fatal accident. We +thought his love dead, and so did he till he saw her again. He met her, +he thought we were plotting against him, he thought he should lose her +for ever, and is the madness of an hour he did this...." + +"My Emmeline pleads bravely for clandestine matches." + +"Ah! do not trifle, my friend. Say: would you have had him act as young +men in his position generally do to young women beneath them?" + +Sir Austin did not like the question. It probed him very severely. + +"You mean," he said, "that fathers must fold their arms, and either +submit to infamous marriages, or have these creatures ruined." + +"I do not mean that," exclaimed the lady, striving for what she did +mean, and how to express it. "I mean that he loved her. Is it not +a madness at his age? But what I chiefly mean is--save him from the +consequences. No, you shall not withdraw your hand. Think of his pride, +his sensitiveness, his great wild nature--wild when he is set wrong: +think how intense it is, set upon love; think, my friend, do not forget +his love for you." + +Sir Austin smiled an admirable smile of pity. + +"That I should save him, or any one, from consequences, is asking more +than the order of things will allow to you, Emmeline, and is not in +the disposition of this world. I cannot. Consequences are the natural +offspring of acts. My child, you are talking sentiment, which is +the distraction of our modern age in everything--a phantasmal vapour +distorting the image of the life we live. You ask me to give him a +golden age in spite of himself. All that could be done, by keeping him +in the paths of virtue and truth, I did. He is become a man, and as a +man he must reap his own sowing." + +The baffled lady sighed. He sat so rigid: he spoke so securely, as if +wisdom were to him more than the love of his son. And yet he did love +his son. Feeling sure that he loved his son while he spoke so loftily, +she reverenced him still, baffled as she was, and sensible that she had +been quibbled with. + +"All I ask of you is to open your heart to him," she said. + +He kept silent. + +"Call him a man,--he is, and must ever be the child of your education, +my friend." + +"You would console me, Emmeline, with the prospect that, if he ruins +himself, he spares the world of young women. Yes, that is something!" + +Closely she scanned the mask. It was impenetrable. He could meet her +eyes, and respond to the pressure of her hand, and smile, and not show +what he felt. Nor did he deem it hypocritical to seek to maintain +his elevation in her soft soul, by simulating supreme philosophy over +offended love. Nor did he know that he had an angel with him then: a +blind angel, and a weak one, but one who struck upon his chance. + +"Am I pardoned for coming to you?" she said, after a pause. + +"Surely I can read my Emmeline's intentions," he gently replied. + +"Very poor ones. I feel my weakness. I cannot utter half I have been +thinking. Oh, if I could!" + +"You speak very well, Emmeline." + +"At least, I am pardoned!" + +"Surely so." + +"And before I leave you, dear friend, shall I be forgiven?--may I beg +it?--will you bless him?" + +He was again silent. + +"Pray for him, Austin! pray for him ere the night is over." + +As she spoke she slid down to his feet and pressed his hand to her +bosom. + +The baronet was startled. In very dread of the soft fit that wooed him, +he pushed back his chair, and rose, and went to the window. + +"It's day already!" he said with assumed vivacity, throwing open the +shutters, and displaying the young light on the lawn. + +Lady Blandish dried her tears as she knelt, and then joined him, and +glanced up silently at Richard's moon standing in wane toward the West. +She hoped it was because of her having been premature in pleading so +earnestly, that she had failed to move him, and she accused herself more +than the baronet. But in acting as she had done, she had treated him as +no common man, and she was compelled to perceive that his heart was at +present hardly superior to the hearts of ordinary men, however composed +his face might be, and apparently serene his wisdom. From that moment +she grew critical of him, and began to study her idol--a process +dangerous to idols. He, now that she seemed to have relinquished the +painful subject, drew to her, and as one who wished to smooth a foregone +roughness, murmured: "God's rarest blessing is, after all, a good woman! +My Emmeline bears her sleepless night well. She does not shame the day." +He gazed down on her with a fondling tenderness. + +"I could bear many, many!" she replied, meeting his eyes, "and you +would see me look better and better, if... if only..." but she had no +encouragement to end the sentence. + +Perhaps he wanted some mute form of consolation; perhaps the handsome +placid features of the dark-eyed dame touched him: at any rate their +Platonism was advanced by his putting an arm about her. She felt the arm +and talked of the morning. + +Thus proximate, they by and by both heard something very like a groan +behind them, and looking round, beheld the Saurian eye. Lady Blandish +smiled, but the baronet's discomposure was not to be concealed. By a +strange fatality every stage of their innocent loves was certain to have +a human beholder. + +"Oh, I'm sure I beg pardon," Benson mumbled, arresting his head in a +melancholy pendulosity. He was ordered out of the room. + +"And I think I shall follow him, and try to get forty winks," said Lady +Blandish. They parted with a quiet squeeze of hands. + +The baronet then called in Benson. + +"Get me my breakfast as soon as you can," he said, regardless of the +aspect of injured conscience Benson sombrely presented to him. "I am +going to town early. And, Benson," he added, "you will also go to town +this afternoon, or to-morrow, if it suits you, and take your book with +you to Mr. Thompson. You will not return here. A provision will be made +for you. You can go." + +The heavy butler essayed to speak, but the tremendous blow and the +baronet's gesture choked him. At the door he made another effort which +shook the rolls of his loose skin pitiably. An impatient signal sent +him out dumb,--and Raynham was quit of the one believer in the Great +Shaddock dogma. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +It was the month of July. The Solent ran up green waves before a +full-blowing South-wester. Gay little yachts bounded out like foam, and +flashed their sails, light as sea-nymphs. A crown of deep Summer blue +topped the flying mountains of cloud. + +By an open window that looked on the brine through nodding roses, our +young bridal pair were at breakfast, regaling worthily, both of them. +Had the Scientific Humanist observed them, he could not have contested +the fact, that as a couple who had set up to be father and mother +of Britons, they were doing their duty. Files of egg-cups with +disintegrated shells bore witness to it, and they were still at work, +hardly talking from rapidity of exercise. Both were dressed for an +expedition. She had her bonnet on, and he his yachting-hat. His sleeves +were turned over at the wrists, and her gown showed its lining on her +lap. At times a chance word might spring a laugh, but eating was the +business of the hour, as I would have you to know it always will be +where Cupid is in earnest. Tribute flowed in to them from the subject +land. Neglected lies Love's penny-whistle on which they played so +prettily and charmed the spheres to hear them. What do they care for the +spheres, who have one another? Come, eggs! come, bread and butter! come, +tea with sugar in it and milk! and welcome, the jolly hours. That is a +fair interpretation of the music in them just now. Yonder instrument was +good only for the overture. After all, what finer aspiration can lovers +have, than to be free man and woman in the heart of plenty? And is it +not a glorious level to have attained? Ah, wretched Scientific Humanist! +not to be by and mark the admirable sight of these young creatures +feeding. It would have been a spell to exorcise the Manichee, methinks. + +The mighty performance came to an end, and then, with a flourish of +his table-napkin, husband stood over wife, who met him on the confident +budding of her mouth. The poetry of mortals is their daily prose. Is +it not a glorious level to have attained? A short, quick-blooded kiss, +radiant, fresh, and honest as Aurora, and then Richard says without lack +of cheer, "No letter to-day, my Lucy!" whereat her sweet eyes dwell on +him a little seriously, but he cries, "Never mind! he'll be coming down +himself some morning. He has only to know her, and all's well! eh?" and +so saying he puts a hand beneath her chin, and seems to frame her fair +face in fancy, she smiling up to be looked at. + +"But one thing I do want to ask my darling," says Lucy, and dropped into +his bosom with hands of petition. "Take me on board his yacht with him +to-day--not leave me with those people! Will he? I'm a good sailor, he +knows!" + +"The best afloat!" laughs Richard, hugging her, "but, you know, you +darling bit of a sailor, they don't allow more than a certain number on +board for the race, and if they hear you've been with me, there'll be +cries of foul play! Besides, there's Lady Judith to talk to you about +Austin, and Lord Mountfalcon's compliments for you to listen to, and Mr. +Morton to take care of you." + +Lucy's eyes fixed sideways an instant. + +"I hope I don't frown and blush as I did?" she said, screwing her +pliable brows up to him winningly, and he bent his cheek against hers, +and murmured something delicious. + +"And we shall be separated for--how many hours? one, two, three hours!" +she pouted to his flatteries. + +"And then I shall come on board to receive my bride's congratulations." + +"And then my husband will talk all the time to Lady Judith." + +"And then I shall see my wife frowning and blushing at Lord +Mountfalcon." + +"Am I so foolish, Richard?" she forgot her trifling to ask in an earnest +way, and had another Aurorean kiss, just brushing the dew on her lips, +for answer. + +After hiding a month in shyest shade, the pair of happy sinners had +wandered forth one day to look on men and marvel at them, and had +chanced to meet Mr. Morton of Poer Hall, Austin Wentworth's friend, and +Ralph's uncle. Mr. Morton had once been intimate with the baronet, but +had given him up for many years as impracticable and hopeless, for +which reason he was the more inclined to regard Richard's misdemeanour +charitably, and to lay the faults of the son on the father; and +thinking society to be the one thing requisite to the young man, he had +introduced him to the people he knew in the island; among others to +the Lady Judith Felle, a fair young dame, who introduced him to Lord +Mountfalcon, a puissant nobleman; who introduced him to the yachtsmen +beginning to congregate; so that in a few weeks he found himself in the +centre of a brilliant company, and for the first time in his life tasted +what it was to have free intercourse with his fellow-creatures of both +sews. The son of a System was, therefore, launched; not only through the +surf, but in deep waters. + +Now the baronet had so far compromised between the recurrence of his +softer feelings and the suggestions of his new familiar, that he had +determined to act toward Richard with justness. The world called it +magnanimity, and even Lady Blandish had some thoughts of the same kind +when she heard that he had decreed to Richard a handsome allowance, and +had scouted Mrs. Doria's proposal for him to contest the legality of the +marriage; but Sir Austin knew well he was simply just in not withholding +money from a youth so situated. And here again the world deceived him by +embellishing his conduct. For what is it to be just to whom we love! He +knew it was not magnanimous, but the cry of the world somehow fortified +him in the conceit that in dealing perfect justice to his son he was +doing all that was possible, because so much more than common fathers +would have done. He had shut his heart. + +Consequently Richard did not want money. What he wanted more, and did +not get, was a word from his father, and though he said nothing to +sadden his young bride, she felt how much it preyed upon him to be +at variance with the man whom, now that he had offended him and gone +against him, he would have fallen on his knees to; the man who was as no +other man to him. She heard him of nights when she lay by his side, and +the darkness, and the broken mutterings, of those nights clothed the +figure of the strange stern man in her mind. Not that it affected the +appetites of the pretty pair. We must not expect that of Cupid enthroned +and in condition; under the influence of sea-air, too. The files of +egg-cups laugh at such an idea. Still the worm did gnaw them. Judge, +then, of their delight when, on this pleasant morning, as they were +issuing from the garden of their cottage to go down to the sea, they +caught sight of Tom Bakewell rushing up the road with a portmanteau on +his shoulders, and, some distance behind him, discerned Adrian. + +"It's all right!" shouted Richard, and ran off to meet him, and never +left his hand till he had hauled him up, firing questions at him all the +way, to where Lucy stood. + +"Lucy! this is Adrian, my cousin."--"Isn't he an angel?" his eyes seemed +to add; while Lucy's clearly answered, "That he is!" + +The full-bodied angel ceremoniously bowed to her, and acted with +reserved unction the benefactor he saw in their greetings. "I think we +are not strangers," he was good enough to remark, and very quickly let +them know he had not breakfasted; on hearing which they hurried him into +the house, and Lucy put herself in motion to have him served. + +"Dear old Rady," said Richard, tugging at his hand again, "how glad I am +you've come! I don't mind telling you we've been horridly wretched." + +"Six, seven, eight, nine eggs," was Adrian's comment on a survey of the +breakfast-table. + +"Why wouldn't he write? Why didn't he answer one of my letters? But here +you are, so I don't mind now. He wants to see us, does he? We'll go up +to-night. I've a match on at eleven; my little yacht--I've called her +the 'Blandish'--against Fred Cuirie's 'Begum.' I shall beat, but whether +I do or not, we'll go up to-night. What's the news? What are they all +doing?" + +"My dear boy!" Adrian returned, sitting comfortably down, "let me put +myself a little more on an equal footing with you before I undertake to +reply. Half that number of eggs will be sufficient for an unmarried man, +and then we'll talk. They're all very well, as well as I can recollect +after the shaking my total vacuity has had this morning. I came over by +the first boat, and the sea, the sea has made me love mother earth, and +desire of her fruits." + +Richard fretted restlessly opposite his cool relative. + +"Adrian! what did he say when he heard of it? I want to know exactly +what words he said." + +"Well says the sage, my son! 'Speech is the small change of Silence.' He +said less than I do." + +"That's how he took it!" cried Richard, and plunged in meditation. + +Soon the table was cleared, and laid out afresh, and Lucy preceded +the maid bearing eggs on the tray, and sat down unbonneted, and like a +thorough-bred housewife, to pour out the tea for him. + +"Now we'll commence," said Adrian, tapping his egg with meditative +cheerfulness; but his expression soon changed to one of pain, all the +more alarming for his benevolent efforts to conceal it. Could it be +possible the egg was bad? oh, horror! Lucy watched him, and waited in +trepidation. + +"This egg has boiled three minutes and three-quarters," he observed, +ceasing to contemplate it. + +"Dear, dear!" said Lucy, "I boiled them myself exactly that time. +Richard likes them so. And you like them hard, Mr. Harley?" + +"On the contrary, I like them soft. Two minutes and a half, or +three-quarters at the outside. An egg should never rashly verge upon +hardness--never. Three minutes is the excess of temerity." + +"If Richard had told me! If I had only known!" the lovely little hostess +interjected ruefully, biting her lip. + +"We mustn't expect him to pay attention to such matters," said Adrian, +trying to smile. + +"Hang it! there are more eggs in the house," cried Richard, and pulled +savagely at the bell. + +Lucy jumped up, saying, "Oh, yes! I will go and boil some exactly the +time you like. Pray let me go, Mr. Harley." + +Adrian restrained her departure with a motion of his hand. "No," he +said, "I will be ruled by Richard's tastes, and heaven grant me his +digestion!" + +Lucy threw a sad look at Richard, who stretched on a sofa, and left the +burden of the entertainment entirely to her. The eggs were a melancholy +beginning, but her ardour to please Adrian would not be damped, and she +deeply admired his resignation. If she failed in pleasing this glorious +herald of peace, no matter by what small misadventure, she apprehended +calamity; so there sat this fair dove with brows at work above her +serious smiling blue eyes, covertly studying every aspect of the +plump-faced epicure, that she might learn to propitiate him. "He shall +not think me timid and stupid," thought this brave girl, and indeed +Adrian was astonished to find that she could both chat and be useful, as +well as look ornamental. When he had finished one egg, behold, two fresh +ones came in, boiled according to his prescription. She had quietly +given her orders to the maid, and he had them without fuss. Possibly +his look of dismay at the offending eggs had not been altogether +involuntary, and her woman's instinct, inexperienced as she was, may +have told her that he had come prepared to be not very well satisfied +with anything in Love's cottage. There was mental faculty in those +pliable brows to see through, and combat, an unwitting wise youth. + +How much she had achieved already she partly divined when Adrian said: +"I think now I'm in case to answer your questions, my dear boy--thanks +to Mrs. Richard," and he bowed to her his first direct acknowledgment of +her position. Lucy thrilled with pleasure. + +"Ah!" cried Richard, and settled easily on his back. + +"To begin, the Pilgrim has lost his Note-book, and has been persuaded +to offer a reward which shall maintain the happy finder thereof in an +asylum for life. Benson--superlative Benson--has turned his shoulders +upon Raynham. None know whither he has departed. It is believed that the +sole surviving member of the sect of the Shaddock-Dogmatists is under a +total eclipse of Woman." + +"Benson gone?" Richard exclaimed. "What a tremendous time it seems since +I left Raynham!" + +"So it is, my dear boy. The honeymoon is Mahomet's minute; or say, the +Persian King's water-pail that you read of in the story: You dip your +head in it, and when you draw it out, you discover that you have lived +a life. To resume your uncle Algernon still roams in pursuit of the +lost one--I should say, hops. Your uncle Hippias has a new and most +perplexing symptom; a determination of bride-cake to the nose. Ever +since your generous present to him, though he declares he never consumed +a morsel of it, he has been under the distressing illusion that his nose +is enormous, and I assure you he exhibits quite a maidenly timidity +in following it--through a doorway, for instance. He complains of its +terrible weight. I have conceived that Benson invisible might be sitting +on it. His hand, and the doctor's, are in hourly consultation with it, +but I fear it will not grow smaller. The Pilgrim has begotten upon it a +new Aphorism: that Size is a matter of opinion." + +"Poor uncle Hippy!" said Richard, "I wonder he doesn't believe in magic. +There's nothing supernatural to rival the wonderful sensations he does +believe in. Good God! fancy coming to that!" + +"I'm sure I'm very sorry," Lucy protested, "but I can't help laughing." + +Charming to the wise youth her pretty laughter sounded. + +"The Pilgrim has your notion, Richard. Whom does he not forestall? +'Confirmed dyspepsia is the apparatus of illusions,' and he accuses the +Ages that put faith in sorcery, of universal indigestion, which may have +been the case, owing to their infamous cookery. He says again, if you +remember, that our own Age is travelling back to darkness and ignorance +through dyspepsia. He lays the seat of wisdom in the centre of our +system, Mrs. Richard: for which reason you will understand how sensible +I am of the vast obligation I am under to you at the present moment, for +your especial care of mine." + +Richard looked on at Lucy's little triumph, attributing Adrian's +subjugation to her beauty and sweetness. She had latterly received a +great many compliments on that score, which she did not care to hear, +and Adrian's homage to a practical quality was far pleasanter to the +young wife, who shrewdly guessed that her beauty would not help her much +in the struggle she had now to maintain. Adrian continuing to lecture +on the excelling virtues of wise cookery, a thought struck her: Where, +where had she tossed Mrs. Berry's book? + +"So that's all about the home-people?" said Richard. + +"All!" replied Adrian. "Or stay: you know Clare's going to be married? +Not? Your Aunt Helen"-- + +"Oh, bother my Aunt Helen! What do you think she had the impertinence to +write--but never mind! Is it to Ralph?" + +"Your Aunt Helen, I was going to say, my dear boy, is an extraordinary +woman. It was from her originally that the Pilgrim first learnt to +call the female the practical animal. He studies us all, you know. +The Pilgrim's Scrip is the abstract portraiture of his surrounding +relatives. Well, your Aunt Helen"-- + +"Mrs. Doria Battledoria!" laughed Richard. + +"--being foiled in a little pet scheme of her own--call it a System if +you like--of some ten or fifteen years' standing, with regard to Miss +Clare!"-- + +"The fair Shuttlecockiana!" + +"--instead of fretting like a man, and questioning Providence, and +turning herself and everybody else inside out, and seeing the world +upside down, what does the practical animal do? She wanted to marry +her to somebody she couldn't marry her to, so she resolved instantly to +marry her to somebody she could marry her to: and as old gentlemen enter +into these transactions with the practical animal the most readily, +she fixed upon an old gentleman; an unmarried old gentleman, a rich old +gentleman, and now a captive old gentleman. The ceremony takes place +in about a week from the present time. No doubt you will receive your +invitation in a day or two." + +"And that cold, icy, wretched Clare has consented to marry an old man!" +groaned Richard. "I'll put a stop to that when I go to town." + +Richard got up and strode about the room. Then he bethought him it was +time to go on board and make preparations. + +"I'm off," he said. "Adrian, you'll take her. She goes in the Empress, +Mountfalcon's vessel. He starts us. A little schooner-yacht--such +a beauty! I'll have one like her some day. Good-bye, darling!" he +whispered to Lucy, and his hand and eyes lingered on her, and hers on +him, seeking to make up for the priceless kiss they were debarred from. +But she quickly looked away from him as he held her:--Adrian stood +silent: his brows were up, and his mouth dubiously contracted. He spoke +at last. + +"Go on the water?" + +"Yes. It's only to St. Helen's. Short and sharp." + +"Do you grudge me the nourishment my poor system has just received, my +son?" + +"Oh, bother your system! Put on your hat, and come along. I'll put you +on board in my boat." + +"Richard! I have already paid the penalty of them who are condemned to +come to an island. I will go with you to the edge of the sea, and I will +meet you there when you return, and take up the Tale of the Tritons: +but, though I forfeit the pleasure of Mrs. Richard's company, I refuse +to quit the land." + +"Yes, oh, Mr. Harley!" Lucy broke from her husband, "and I will stay +with you, if you please. I don't want to go among those people, and we +can see it all from the shore. + +"Dearest! I don't want to go. You don't mind? Of course, I will go if +you wish, but I would so much rather stay;" and she lengthened her plea +in her attitude and look to melt the discontent she saw gathering. + +Adrian protested that she had much better go; that he could amuse +himself very well till their return, and so forth; but she had schemes +in her pretty head, and held to it to be allowed to stay in spite of +Lord Mountfalcon's disappointment, cited by Richard, and at the great +risk of vexing her darling, as she saw. Richard pished, and glanced +contemptuously at Adrian. He gave way ungraciously. + +"There, do as you like. Get your things ready to leave this evening. No, +I'm not angry."--Who could be? he seemed as he looked up from her +modest fondling to ask Adrian, and seized the indemnity of a kiss on +her forehead, which, however, did not immediately disperse the shade of +annoyance he felt. + +"Good heavens!" he exclaimed. "Such a day as this, and a fellow refuses +to come on the water! Well, come along to the edge of the sea." Adrian's +angelic quality had quite worn off to him. He never thought of devoting +himself to make the most of the material there was: but somebody else +did, and that fair somebody succeeded wonderfully in a few short hours. +She induced Adrian to reflect that the baronet had only to see her, and +the family muddle would be smoothed at once. He came to it by degrees; +still the gradations were rapid. Her manner he liked; she was certainly +a nice picture: best of all, she was sensible. He forgot the farmer's +niece in her, she was so very sensible. She appeared really to +understand that it was a woman's duty to know how to cook. + +But the difficulty was, by what means the baronet could be brought to +consent to see her. He had not yet consented to see his son, and Adrian, +spurred by Lady Blandish, had ventured something in coming down. He was +not inclined to venture more. The small debate in his mind ended by +his throwing the burden on time. Time would bring the matter about. +Christians as well as Pagans are in the habit of phrasing this excuse +for folding their arms; "forgetful," says The Pilgrim's Scrip, "that the +devil's imps enter into no such armistice." + +As she loitered along the shore with her amusing companion, Lucy had +many things to think of. There was her darling's match. The yachts were +started by pistol-shot by Lord Mountfalcon on board the Empress, and her +little heart beat after Richard's straining sails. Then there was the +strangeness of walking with a relative of Richard's, one who had lived +by his side so long. And the thought that perhaps this night she would +have to appear before the dreaded father of her husband. + +"O Mr. Harley!" she said, "is it true--are we to go tonight? And me," +she faltered, "will he see me?" + +"Ah! that is what I wanted to talk to you about," said Adrian. "I made +some reply to our dear boy which he has slightly misinterpreted. Our +second person plural is liable to misconstruction by an ardent mind. I +said 'see you,' and he supposed--now, Mrs. Richard, I am sure you will +understand me. Just at present perhaps it would be advisable--when the +father and son have settled their accounts, the daughter-in-law can't be +a debtor."... + +Lucy threw up her blue eyes. A half-cowardly delight at the chance of a +respite from the awful interview made her quickly apprehensive. + +"O Mr. Harley! you think he should go alone first?" + +"Well, that is my notion. But the fact is, he is such an excellent +husband that I fancy it will require more than a man's power of +persuasion to get him to go." + +"But I will persuade him, Mr. Harley." "Perhaps, if you would..." + +"There is nothing I would not do for his happiness," murmured Lucy. + +The wise youth pressed her hand with lymphatic approbation. They walked +on till the yachts had rounded the point. + +"Is it to-night, Mr. Harley?" she asked with some trouble in her voice +now that her darling was out of sight. + +"I don't imagine your eloquence even will get him to leave you +to-night," Adrian replied gallantly. "Besides, I must speak for myself. +To achieve the passage to an island is enough for one day. No necessity +exists for any hurry, except in the brain of that impetuous boy. You +must correct it, Mrs. Richard. Men are made to be managed, and women are +born managers. Now, if you were to let him know that you don't want to +go to-night, and let him guess, after a day or two, that you would very +much rather... you might affect a peculiar repugnance. By taking it on +yourself, you see, this wild young man will not require such frightful +efforts of persuasion. Both his father and he are exceedingly delicate +subjects, and his father unfortunately is not in a position to be +managed directly. It's a strange office to propose to you, but it +appears to devolve upon you to manage the father through the son. +Prodigal having made his peace, you, who have done all the work from a +distance, naturally come into the circle of the paternal smile, knowing +it due to you. I see no other way. If Richard suspects that his father +objects for the present to welcome his daughter-in-law, hostilities will +be continued, the breach will be widened, bad will grow to worse, and I +see no end to it." + +Adrian looked in her face, as much as to say: Now are you capable of +this piece of heroism? And it did seem hard to her that she should have +to tell Richard she shrank from any trial. But the proposition chimed in +with her fears and her wishes: she thought the wise youth very wise: the +poor child was not insensible to his flattery, and the subtler flattery +of making herself in some measure a sacrifice to the home she had +disturbed. She agreed to simulate as Adrian had suggested. + +Victory is the commonest heritage of the hero, and when Richard came +on shore proclaiming that the Blandish had beaten the Begum by seven +minutes and three-quarters, he was hastily kissed and congratulated +by his bride with her fingers among the leaves of Dr. Kitchener, and +anxiously questioned about wine. + +"Dearest! Mr. Harley wants to stay with us a little, and he thinks we +ought not to go immediately--that is, before he has had some letters, +and I feel... I would so much rather..." + +"Ah! that's it, you coward!" said Richard. "Well, then, to-morrow. We +had a splendid race. Did you see us?" + +"Oh, yes! I saw you and was sure my darling would win." And again she +threw on him the cold water of that solicitude about wine. "Mr. Harley +must have the best, you know, and we never drink it, and I'm so silly, +I don't know good wine, and if you would send Tom where he can get good +wine. I have seen to the dinner." + +"So that's why you didn't come to meet me?" + +"Pardon me, darling." + +"Well, I do, but Mountfalcon doesn't, and Lady Judith thinks you ought +to have been there." + +"Ah, but my heart was with you!" + +Richard put his hand to feel for the little heart: her eyelids softened, +and she ran away. + +It is to say much of the dinner that Adrian found no fault with it, and +was in perfect good-humour at the conclusion of the service. He did not +abuse the wine they were able to procure for him, which was also much. +The coffee, too, had the honour of passing without comment. These were +sound first steps toward the conquest of an epicure, and as yet Cupid +did not grumble. + +After coffee they strolled out to see the sun set from Lady Judith's +grounds. The wind had dropped. The clouds had rolled from the zenith, +and ranged in amphitheatre with distant flushed bodies over sea and +land: Titanic crimson head and chest rising from the wave faced Hyperion +falling. There hung Briareus with deep-indented trunk and ravined brows, +stretching all his hands up to unattainable blue summits. North-west the +range had a rich white glow, as if shining to the moon, and westward, +streams of amber, melting into upper rose, shot out from the dipping +disk. + +"What Sandoe calls the passion-flower of heaven," said Richard under +his breath to Adrian, who was serenely chanting Greek hexameters, and +answered, in the swing of the caesura, "He might as well have said +cauliflower." + +Lady Judith, with a black lace veil tied over her head, met them in +the walk. She was tall and dark; dark-haired, dark-eyed, sweet and +persuasive in her accent and manner. "A second edition of the Blandish," +thinks Adrian. She welcomed him as one who had claims on her affability. +She kissed Lucy protectingly, and remarking on the wonders of the +evening, appropriated her husband. Adrian and Lucy found themselves +walking behind them. + +The sun was under. All the spaces of the sky were alight, and Richard's +fancy flamed. + +"So you're not intoxicated with your immense triumph this morning?" said +Lady Judith. + +"Don't laugh at me. When it's over I feel ashamed of the trouble I've +taken. Look at that glory!--I'm sure you despise me for it." + +"Was I not there to applaud you? I only think such energies should be +turned into some definitely useful channel. But you must not go into the +Army." + +"What else can I do?" + +"You are fit for so much that is better." + +"I never can be anything like Austin." + +"But I think you can do more." + +"Well, I thank you for thinking it, Lady Judith. Something I will do. A +man must deserve to live, as you say. + +"Sauces," Adrian was heard to articulate distinctly in the rear, "Sauces +are the top tree of this science. A woman who has mastered sauces sits +on the apex of civilization." + +Briareus reddened duskily seaward. The West was all a burning rose. + +"How can men see such sights as those, and live idle?" Richard resumed. +"I feel ashamed of asking my men to work for me.--Or I feel so now." + +"Not when you're racing the Begum, I think. There's no necessity for you +to turn democrat like Austin. Do you write now?" + +"No. What is writing like mine? It doesn't deceive me. I know it's only +the excuse I'm making to myself for remaining idle. I haven't written a +line since--lately." + +"Because you are so happy." + +"No, not because of that. Of course I'm very happy..." He did not +finish. + +Vague, shapeless ambition had replaced love in yonder skies. No +Scientific Humanist was by to study the natural development, and +guide him. This lady would hardly be deemed a very proper guide to the +undirected energies of the youth, yet they had established relations of +that nature. She was five years older than he, and a woman, which may +explain her serene presumption. + +The cloud-giants had broken up: a brawny shoulder smouldered over the +sea. + +"We'll work together in town, at all events," said Richard, + +"Why can't we go about together at night and find out people who want +help?" + +Lady Judith smiled, and only corrected his nonsense by saying, "I think +we mustn't be too romantic. You will become a knight-errant, I suppose. +You have the characteristics of one." + +"Especially at breakfast," Adrian's unnecessarily emphatic gastronomical +lessons to the young wife here came in. + +"You must be our champion," continued Lady Judith: "the rescuer and +succourer of distressed dames and damsels. We want one badly." + +"You do," said Richard, earnestly: "from what I hear: from what I +know!" His thoughts flew off with him as knight-errant hailed shrilly +at exceeding critical moment by distressed dames and damsels. Images +of airy towers hung around. His fancy performed miraculous feats. The +towers crumbled. The stars grew larger, seemed to throb with lustre. +His fancy crumbled with the towers of the air, his heart gave a leap, he +turned to Lucy. + +"My darling! what have you been doing?" And as if to compensate her for +his little knight-errant infidelity, he pressed very tenderly to her. + +"We have been engaged in a charming conversation on domestic cookery," +interposed Adrian. + +"Cookery! such an evening as this?" His face was a handsome likeness of +Hippias at the presentation of bridecake. + +"Dearest! you know it's very useful," Lucy mirthfully pleaded. + +"Indeed I quite agree with you, child," said Lady Judith, "and I think +you have the laugh of us. I certainly will learn to cook some day." + +"Woman's mission, in so many words," ejaculated Adrian. + +"And pray, what is man's?" + +"To taste thereof, and pronounce thereupon." + +"Let us give it up to them," said Lady Judith to Richard. "You and I +never will make so delightful and beautifully balanced a world of it." + +Richard appeared to have grown perfectly willing to give everything up +to the fair face, his bridal Hesper. + +Neat day Lucy had to act the coward anew, and, as she did so, her heart +sank to see how painfully it affected him that she should hesitate to go +with him to his father. He was patient, gentle; he sat down by her side +to appeal to her reason, and used all the arguments he could think of to +persuade her. + +"If we go together and make him see us both: if he sees he has nothing +to be ashamed of in you--rather everything to be proud of; if you are +only near him, you will not have to speak a word, and I'm certain--as +certain as that I live--that in a week we shall be settled happily at +Raynham. I know my father so well, Lucy. Nobody knows him but I." + +Lucy asked whether Mr. Harley did not. + +"Adrian? Not a bit. Adrian only knows a part of people, Lucy; and not +the best part." + +Lucy was disposed to think more highly of the object of her conquest. + +"Is it he that has been frightening you, Lucy?" + +"No, no, Richard; oh, dear no!" she cried, and looked at him more +tenderly because she was not quite truthful. + +"He doesn't know my father at all," said Richard. But Lucy had another +opinion of the wise youth, and secretly maintained it. She could not be +won to imagine the baronet a man of human mould, generous, forgiving, +full of passionate love at heart, as Richard tried to picture him, and +thought him, now that he beheld him again through Adrian's embassy. To +her he was that awful figure, shrouded by the midnight. "Why are you +so harsh?" she had heard Richard cry more than once. She was sure that +Adrian must be right. + +"Well, I tell you I won't go without you," said Richard, and Lucy begged +for a little more time. + +Cupid now began to grumble, and with cause. Adrian positively refused +to go on the water unless that element were smooth as a plate. The +South-west still joked boisterously at any comparison of the sort; the +days were magnificent; Richard had yachting engagements; and Lucy always +petitioned to stay to keep Adrian company, concerning it her duty as +hostess. Arguing with Adrian was an absurd idea. If Richard hinted +at his retaining Lucy, the wise youth would remark: "It's a wholesome +interlude to your extremely Cupidinous behaviour, my dear boy." + +Richard asked his wife what they could possibly find to talk about. + +"All manner of things," said Lucy; "not only cookery. He is so amusing, +though he does make fun of The Pilgrim's Scrip, and I think he ought +not. And then, do you know, darling--you won't think me vain?--I think +he is beginning to like me a little." + +Richard laughed at the humble mind of his Beauty. + +"Doesn't everybody like you, admire you? Doesn't Lord Mountfalcon, and +Mr. Morton, and Lady Judith?" + +"But he is one of your family, Richard." + +"And they all will, if she isn't a coward." + +"Ah, no!" she sighs, and is chidden. + +The conquest of an epicure, or any young wife's conquest beyond her +husband, however loyally devised for their mutual happiness, may be +costly to her. Richard in his hours of excitement was thrown very much +with Lady Judith. He consulted her regarding what he termed Lucy's +cowardice. Lady Judith said: "I think she's wrong, but you must learn to +humour little women." + +"Then would you advise me to go up alone?" he asked, with a cloudy +forehead. + +"What else can you do? Be reconciled yourself as quickly as you can. You +can't drag her like a captive, you know?" + +It is not pleasant for a young husband, fancying his bride the peerless +flower of Creation, to learn that he must humour a little woman in her. +It was revolting to Richard. + +"What I fear," he said, "is, that my father will make it smooth with me, +and not acknowledge her: so that whenever I go to him, I shall have to +leave her, and tit for tat--an abominable existence, like a ball on a +billiard-table. I won't bear that ignominy. And this I know, I know! she +might prevent it at once, if she would only be brave, and face it. You, +you, Lady Judith, you wouldn't be a coward?" + +"Where my old lord tells me to go, I go," the lady coldly replied. +"There's not much merit in that. Pray, don't cite me. Women are born +cowards, you know." + +"But I love the women who are not cowards." + +"The little thing--your wife has not refused to go?" + +"No--but tears! Who can stand tears?" + +Lucy had come to drop them. Unaccustomed to have his will thwarted, and +urgent where he saw the thing to do so clearly, the young husband had +spoken strong words: and she, who knew that she would have given her +life by inches for him; who knew that she was playing a part for his +happiness, and hiding for his sake the nature that was worthy his +esteem; the poor little martyr had been weak a moment. + +She had Adrian's support. The wise youth was very comfortable. He liked +the air of the Island, and he liked being petted. "A nice little woman! +a very nice little woman!" Tom Bakewell heard him murmur to himself +according to a habit he had; and his air of rather succulent patronage +as he walked or sat beside the innocent Beauty, with his head thrown +back and a smile that seemed always to be in secret communion with his +marked abdominal prominence, showed that she was gaining part of what +she played for. Wise youths who buy their loves, are not unwilling, +when opportunity offers, to try and obtain the commodity for nothing. +Examinations of her hand, as for some occult purpose, and unctuous +pattings of the same, were not infrequent. Adrian waxed now and then +Anacreontic in his compliments. Lucy would say: "That's worse than Lord +Mountfalcon." + +"Better English than the noble lord deigns to employ--allow that?" quoth +Adrian. + +"He is very kind," said Lucy. + +"To all, save to our noble vernacular," added Adrian. "He seems to scent +a rival to his dignity there." + +It may be that Adrian scented a rival to his lymphatic emotions. + +"We are at our ease here in excellent society," he wrote to Lady +Blandish. "I am bound to confess that the Huron has a happy fortune, or +a superlative instinct. Blindfold he has seized upon a suitable mate. +She can look at a lord, and cook for an epicure. Besides Dr. Kitchener, +she reads and comments on The Pilgrim's Scrip. The `Love' chapter, of +course, takes her fancy. That picture of Woman, `Drawn by Reverence +and coloured by Love,' she thinks beautiful, and repeats it, tossing up +pretty eyes. Also the lover's petition: 'Give me purity to be worthy the +good in her, and grant her patience to reach the good in me.' 'Tis quite +taking to hear her lisp it. Be sure that I am repeating the petition! I +make her read me her choice passages. She has not a bad voice. + +"The Lady Judith I spoke of is Austin's Miss Menteith, married to the +incapable old Lord Felle, or Fellow, as the wits here call him. Lord +Mountfalcon is his cousin, and her--what? She has been trying to find +out, but they have both got over their perplexity, and act respectively +the bad man reproved and the chaste counsellor; a position in which our +young couple found them, and haply diverted its perils. They had quite +taken them in hand. Lady Judith undertakes to cure the fair Papist of +a pretty, modest trick of frowning and blushing when addressed, and his +lordship directs the exuberant energies of the original man. 'Tis thus +we fulfil our destinies, and are content. Sometimes they change pupils; +my lord educates the little dame, and my lady the hope of Raynham. Joy +and blessings unto all! as the German poet sings. Lady Judith accepted +the hand of her decrepit lord that she might be of potent service to her +fellow-creatures. Austin, you know, had great hopes of her. + +"I have for the first time in my career a field of lords to study. I +think it is not without meaning that I am introduced to it by a yeoman's +niece. The language of the two social extremes is similar. I find it to +consist in an instinctively lavish use of vowels and adjectives. My lord +and Farmer Blaize speak the same tongue, only my lord's has lost its +backbone, and is limp, though fluent. Their pursuits are identical; but +that one has money, or, as the Pilgrim terms it, vantage, and the +other has not. Their ideas seem to have a special relationship in the +peculiarity of stopping where they have begun. Young Tom Blaize with +vantage would be Lord Mountfalcon. Even in the character of their +parasites I see a resemblance, though I am bound to confess that the +Hon. Peter Brayder, who is my lord's parasite, is by no means noxious. + +"This sounds dreadfully democrat. Pray, don't be alarmed. The discovery +of the affinity between the two extremes of the Royal British Oak has +made me thrice conservative. I see now that the national love of a lord +is less subservience than a form of self-love; putting a gold-lace hat +on one's image, as it were, to bow to it. I see, too, the admirable +wisdom of our system:--could there be a finer balance of power than in +a community where men intellectually nil, have lawful vantage and a +gold-lace hat on? How soothing it is to intellect--that noble rebel, as +the Pilgrim has it--to stand, and bow, and know itself superior! This +exquisite compensation maintains the balance: whereas that period +anticipated by the Pilgrim, when science shall have produced an +intellectual aristocracy, is indeed horrible to contemplate. For what +despotism is so black as one the mind cannot challenge? 'Twill be an +iron Age. Wherefore, madam, I cry, and shall continue to cry, 'Vive Lord +Mountfalcon! long may he sip his Burgundy! long may the bacon-fed carry +him on their shoulders!' + +"Mr. Morton (who does me the honour to call me Young Mephisto, and +Socrates missed) leaves to-morrow to get Master Ralph out of a scrape. +Our Richard has just been elected member of a Club for the promotion +of nausea. Is he happy? you ask. As much so as one who has had the +misfortune to obtain what he wanted can be. Speed is his passion. He +races from point to point. In emulation of Leander and Don Juan, +he swam, I hear, to the opposite shores the other day, or some +world-shaking feat of the sort: himself the Hero whom he went to meet: +or, as they who pun say, his Hero was a Bet. A pretty little domestic +episode occurred this morning. He finds her abstracted in the fire of +his caresses: she turns shy and seeks solitude: green jealousy takes +hold of him: he lies in wait, and discovers her with his new rival--a +veteran edition of the culinary Doctor! Blind to the Doctor's great +national services, deaf to her wild music, he grasps the intruder, +dismembers him, and performs upon him the treatment he has recommended +for dressed cucumber. Tears and shrieks accompany the descent of the +gastronome. Down she rushes to secure the cherished fragments: he +follows: they find him, true to his character, alighted and straggling +over a bed of blooming flowers. Yet ere a fairer flower can gather him, +a heel black as Pluto stamps him into earth, flowers and all:--happy +burial! Pathetic tribute to his merit is watering his grave, when by +saunters my Lord Mountfalcon. 'What's the mattah?' says his lordship, +soothing his moustache. They break apart, and 'tis left to me to explain +from the window. My lord looks shocked, Richard is angry with her for +having to be ashamed of himself, Beauty dries her eyes, and after a +pause of general foolishness, the business of life is resumed. I may add +that the Doctor has just been dug up, and we are busy, in the enemy's +absence, renewing old Aeson with enchanted threads. By the way, a Papist +priest has blest them." + +A month had passed when Adrian wrote this letter. He was very +comfortable; so of course he thought Time was doing his duty. Not a word +did he say of Richard's return, and for some reason or other neither +Richard nor Lucy spoke of it now. + +Lady Blandish wrote back: "His father thinks he has refused to come to +him. By your utter silence on the subject, I fear that it must be so. +Make him come. Bring him by force. Insist on his coming. Is he mad? He +must come at once." + +To this Adrian replied, after a contemplative comfortable lapse of a day +or two, which might be laid to his efforts to adopt the lady's advice, +"The point is that the half man declines to come without the whole man. +The terrible question of sex is our obstruction." + +Lady Blandish was in despair. She had no positive assurance that the +baronet would see his son; the mask put them all in the dark; but she +thought she saw in Sir Austin irritation that the offender, at least +when the opening to come and make his peace seemed to be before him, +should let days and weeks go by. She saw through the mask sufficiently +not to have any hope of his consenting to receive the couple at present; +she was sure that his equanimity was fictitious; but she pierced no +farther, or she might have started and asked herself, Is this the heart +of a woman? + +The lady at last wrote to Richard. She said: "Come instantly, and come +alone." Then Richard, against his judgment, gave way. "My father is +not the man I thought him!" he exclaimed sadly, and Lucy felt his eyes +saying to her: "And you, too, are not the woman I thought you." +Nothing could the poor little heart reply but strain to his bosom and +sleeplessly pray in his arms all the night. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + +Three weeks after Richard arrived in town, his cousin Clare was married, +under the blessings of her energetic mother, and with the approbation of +her kinsfolk, to the husband that had been expeditiously chosen for her. +The gentleman, though something more than twice the age of his bride, +had no idea of approaching senility for many long connubial years to +come. Backed by his tailor and his hairdresser, he presented no such bad +figure at the altar, and none would have thought that he was an ancient +admirer of his bride's mama, as certainly none knew he had lately +proposed for Mrs. Doria before there was any question of her daughter. +These things were secrets; and the elastic and happy appearance of Mr. +John Todhunter did not betray them at the altar. Perhaps he would rather +have married the mother. He was a man of property, well born, tolerably +well educated, and had, when Mrs. Doria rejected him for the first time, +the reputation of being a fool--which a wealthy man may have in his +youth; but as he lived on, and did not squander his money--amassed it, +on the contrary, and did not seek to go into Parliament, and did other +negative wise things, the world's opinion, as usual, veered completely +round, and John Todhunter was esteemed a shrewd, sensible man--only not +brilliant; that he was brilliant could not be said of him. In fact, +the man could hardly talk, and it was a fortunate provision that no +impromptu deliveries were required of him in the marriage-service. + +Mrs. Doria had her own reasons for being in a hurry. She had discovered +something of the strange impassive nature of her child; not from any +confession of Clare's, but from signs a mother can read when, her eyes +are not resolutely shut. She saw with alarm and anguish that Clare had +fallen into the pit she had been digging for her so laboriously. In vain +she entreated the baronet to break the disgraceful, and, as she said, +illegal alliance his son had contracted. Sir Austin would not even stop +the little pension to poor Berry. "At least you will do that, Austin," +she begged pathetically. "You will show your sense of that horrid +woman's conduct?" He refused to offer up any victim to console her. Then +Mrs. Doria told him her thoughts,--and when an outraged energetic lady +is finally brought to exhibit these painfully hoarded treasures, +she does not use half words as a medium. His System, and his conduct +generally were denounced to him, without analysis. She let him +understand that the world laughed at him; and he heard this from her +at a time when his mask was still soft and liable to be acted on by his +nerves. "You are weak, Austin! weak, I tell you!" she said, and, like +all angry and self-interested people, prophecy came easy to her. In her +heart she accused him of her own fault, in imputing to him the wreck of +her project. The baronet allowed her to revel in the proclamation of a +dire future, and quietly counselled her to keep apart from him, which +his sister assured him she would do. + +But to be passive in calamity is the province of no woman. Mark the +race at any hour. "What revolution and hubbub does not that little +instrument, the needle, avert from us!" says The Pilgrim's Scrip. Alas, +that in calamity women cannot stitch! Now that she saw Clare wanted +other than iron, it struck her she must have a husband, and be made +secure as a woman and a wife. This seemed the thing to do: and, as she +had forced the iron down Clare's throat, so she forced the husband, and +Clare gulped at the latter as she had at the former. On the very day +that Mrs. Doria had this new track shaped out before her, John Todhunter +called at the Foreys'. "Old John!" sang out Mrs. Doria, "show him up to +me. I want to see him particularly." He sat with her alone. He was a +man multitudes of women would have married--whom will they not?--and who +would have married any presentable woman: but women do want asking, and +John never had the word. The rape of such men is left to the practical +animal. So John sat alone with his old flame. He had become resigned to +her perpetual lamentation and living Suttee for his defunct rival. But, +ha! what meant those soft glances now--addressed to him? His tailor and +his hairdresser gave youth to John, but they had not the art to bestow +upon him distinction, and an undistinguished man what woman looks at? +John was an indistinguishable man. For that reason he was dry wood to a +soft glance. + +And now she said: "It is time you should marry; and you are the man +to be the guide and helper of a young woman, John. You are well +preserved--younger than most of the young men of our day. You are +eminently domestic, a good son, and will be a good husband and good +father. Some one you must marry.--What do you think of Clare for a wife +for you?" + +At first John Todhunter thought it would be very much like his marrying +a baby. However, he listened to it, and that was enough for Mrs. Doria. + +She went down to John's mother, and consulted with her on the propriety +of the scheme of wedding her daughter to John in accordance with his +proposition. Mrs. Todhunter's jealousy of any disturbing force in the +influence she held over her son Mrs. Doria knew to be one of the causes +of John's remaining constant to the impression she had afore-time +produced on him. She spoke so kindly of John, and laid so much stress +on the ingrained obedience and passive disposition of her daughter, that +Mrs. Todhunter was led to admit she did think it almost time John should +be seeking a mate, and that he--all things considered--would hardly find +a fitter one. And this, John Todhunter--old John no more--heard to his +amazement when, a day or two subsequently, he instanced the probable +disapproval of his mother. + +The match was arranged. Mrs. Doria did the wooing. It consisted in +telling Clare that she had come to years when marriage was desirable, +and that she had fallen into habits of moping which might have the +worse effect on her future life, as it had on her present health and +appearance, and which a husband would cure. Richard was told by Mrs. +Doria that Clare had instantaneously consented to accept Mr. John +Todhunter as lord of her days, and with more than obedience--with +alacrity. At all events, when Richard spoke to Clare, the strange +passive creature did not admit constraint on her inclinations. Mrs. +Doria allowed Richard to speak to her. She laughed at his futile +endeavours to undo her work, and the boyish sentiments he uttered on the +subject. "Let us see, child," she said, "let us see which turns out the +best; a marriage of passion, or a marriage of common sense." + +Heroic efforts were not wanting to arrest the union. Richard made +repeated journeys to Hounslow, where Ralph was quartered, and if Ralph +could have been persuaded to carry off a young lady who did not love +him, from the bridegroom her mother averred she did love, Mrs. Doria +might have been defeated. But Ralph in his cavalry quarters was cooler +than Ralph in the Bursley meadows. "Women are oddities, Dick," he +remarked, running a finger right and left along his upper lip. "Best +leave them to their own freaks. She's a dear girl, though she doesn't +talk: I like her for that. If she cared for me I'd go the race. She +never did. It's no use asking a girl twice. She knows whether she cares +a fig for a fellow." + +The hero quitted him with some contempt, As Ralph Morton was a young +man, and he had determined that John Todhunter was an old man, he sought +another private interview with Clare, and getting her alone, said: +"Clare, I've come to you for the last time. Will you marry Ralph +Morton?" + +To which Clare replied, "I cannot marry two husbands, Richard." + +"Will you refuse to marry this old man?" + +"I must do as mama wishes." + +"Then you're going to marry an old man--a man you don't love, and can't +love! Oh, good God! do you know what you're doing?" He flung about in +a fury. "Do you know what it is? Clare!" he caught her two hands +violently, "have you any idea of the horror you're going to commit?" + +She shrank a little at his vehemence, but neither blushed nor stammered: +answering: "I see nothing wrong in doing what mama thinks right, +Richard." + +"Your mother! I tell you it's an infamy, Clare! It's a miserable sin! I +tell you, if I had done such a thing I would not live an hour after it. +And coldly to prepare for it! to be busy about your dresses! They told +me when I came in that you were with the milliner. To be smiling over +the horrible outrage! decorating yourself!"... + +"Dear Richard," said Clare, "you will make me very unhappy." + +"That one of my blood should be so debased!" he cried, brushing angrily +at his face. "Unhappy! I beg you to feel for yourself, Clare. But I +suppose," and he said it scornfully, "girls don't feel this sort of +shame." + +She grew a trifle paler. + +"Next to mama, I would wish to please you, dear Richard." + +"Have you no will of your own?" he exclaimed. + +She looked at him softly; a look he interpreted for the meekness he +detested in her. + +"No, I believe you have none!" he added. "And what can I do? I can't +step forward and stop this accursed marriage. If you would but say a +word I would save you; but you tie my hands. And they expect me to stand +by and see it done!" + +"Will you not be there, Richard?" said Clare, following the question +with her soft eyes. It was the same voice that had so thrilled him on +his marriage morn. + +"Oh, my darling Clare!" he cried in the kindest way he had ever used +to her, "if you knew how I feel this!" and now as he wept she wept, and +came insensibly into his arms. + +"My darling Clare!" he repeated. + +She said nothing, but seemed to shudder, weeping. + +"You will do it, Clare? You will be sacrificed? So lovely as you are, +too!... Clare! you cannot be quite blind. If I dared speak to you, and +tell you all.... Look up. Can you still consent?" + +"I must not disobey mama," Clare murmured, without looking up from the +nest her cheek had made on his bosom. + +"Then kiss me for the last time," said Richard. "I'll never kiss you +after it, Clare." + +He bent his head to meet her mouth, and she threw her arms wildly round +him, and kissed him convulsively, and clung to his lips, shutting her +eyes, her face suffused with a burning red. + +Then he left her, unaware of the meaning of those passionate kisses. + +Argument with Mrs. Doria was like firing paper-pellets against a stone +wall. To her indeed the young married hero spoke almost indecorously, +and that which his delicacy withheld him from speaking to Clare. He +could provoke nothing more responsive from the practical animal than +"Pooh-pooh! Tush, tush! and Fiddlededee!" + +"Really," Mrs. Doria said to her intimates, "that boy's education acts +like a disease on him. He cannot regard anything sensibly. He is for +ever in some mad excess of his fancy, and what he will come to at last +heaven only knows! I sincerely pray that Austin will be able to bear +it." + +Threats of prayer, however, that harp upon their sincerity, are not very +well worth having. Mrs. Doria had embarked in a practical controversy, +as it were, with her brother. Doubtless she did trust he would be able +to bear his sorrows to come, but one who has uttered prophecy can barely +help hoping to see it fulfilled: she had prophecied much grief to the +baronet. + +Poor John Todhunter, who would rather have married the mother, and +had none of your heroic notions about the sacred necessity for love +in marriage, moved as one guiltless of offence, and deserving his +happiness. Mrs. Doria shielded him from the hero. To see him smile at +Clare's obedient figure, and try not to look paternal, was touching. + +Meantime Clare's marriage served one purpose. It completely occupied +Richard's mind, and prevented him from chafing at the vexation of not +finding his father ready to meet him when he came to town. A letter +had awaited Adrian at the hotel, which said, "Detain him till you hear +further from me. Take him about with you into every form of society." +No more than that. Adrian had to extemporize, that the baronet had gone +down to Wales on pressing business, and would be back in a week or +so. For ulterior inventions and devices wherewith to keep the young +gentleman in town, he applied to Mrs. Doria. "Leave him to me," said +Mrs. Doria, "I'll manage him." And she did. + +"Who can say," asks The Pilgrim's Scrip, "when he is not walking a +puppet to some woman?" + +Mrs. Doria would hear no good of Lucy. "I believe," she observed, as +Adrian ventured a shrugging protest in her behalf,--"it is my firm +opinion, that a scullery-maid would turn any of you men round her little +finger--only give her time and opportunity." By dwelling on the arts of +women, she reconciled it to her conscience to do her best to divide the +young husband from his wife till it pleased his father they should +live their unhallowed union again. Without compunction, or a sense of +incongruity, she abused her brother and assisted the fulfilment of his +behests. + +So the puppets were marshalled by Mrs. Doria, happy, or sad, or +indifferent. Quite against his set resolve and the tide of his feelings, +Richard found himself standing behind Clare in the church--the very +edifice that had witnessed his own marriage, and heard, "I, Clare Doria, +take thee John Pemberton," clearly pronounced. He stood with black brows +dissecting the arts of the tailor and hairdresser on unconscious John. +The back, and much of the middle, of Mr. Todhunter's head was bald; the +back shone like an egg-shell, but across the middle the artist had drawn +two long dabs of hair from the sides, and plastered them cunningly, +so that all save wilful eyes would have acknowledged the head to be +covered. The man's only pretension was to a respectable juvenility. He +had a good chest, stout limbs, a face inclined to be jolly. Mrs. Doria +had no cause to be put out of countenance at all by the exterior of her +son-in-law: nor was she. Her splendid hair and gratified smile made a +light in the church. Playing puppets must be an immense pleasure to the +practical animal. The Forey bridesmaids, five in number, and one Miss +Doria, their cousin, stood as girls do stand at these sacrifices, +whether happy, sad, or indifferent; a smile on their lips and tears in +attendance. Old Mrs. Todhunter, an exceedingly small ancient woman, was +also there. "I can't have my boy John married without seeing it +done," she said, and throughout the ceremony she was muttering audible +encomiums on her John's manly behaviour. + +The ring was affixed to Clare's finger; there was no ring lost in this +common-sense marriage. The instant the clergyman bade him employ it, +John drew the ring out, and dropped it on the finger of the cold passive +hand in a businesslike way, as one who had studied the matter. Mrs. +Doria glanced aside at Richard. Richard observed Clare spread out her +fingers that the operation might be the more easily effected. + +He did duty in the vestry a few minutes, and then said to his aunt: + +"Now I'll go." + +"You'll come to the breakfast, child? The Foreys"-- + +He cut her short. "I've stood for the family, and I'll do no more. I +won't pretend to eat and make merry over it." + +"Richard!" + +"Good-bye." + +She had attained her object and she wisely gave way. + +"Well. Go and kiss Clare, and shake his hand. Pray, pray be civil." + +She turned to Adrian, and said: "He is going. You must go with him, and +find some means of keeping him, or he'll be running off to that woman. +Now, no words--go!" + +Richard bade Clare farewell. She put up her mouth to him humbly, but he +kissed her on the forehead. + +"Do not cease to love me," she said in a quavering whisper in his ear. + +Mr. Todhunter stood beaming and endangering the art of the hairdresser +with his pocket-handkerchief. Now he positively was married, he thought +he would rather have the daughter than the mother, which is a reverse of +the order of human thankfulness at a gift of the Gods. + +"Richard, my boy!" he said heartily, "congratulate me." + +"I should be happy to, if I could," sedately replied the hero, to the +consternation of those around. Nodding to the bridesmaids and bowing to +the old lady, he passed out. + +Adrian, who had been behind him, deputed to watch for a possible +unpleasantness, just hinted to John: "You know, poor fellow, he has got +into a mess with his marriage." + +"Oh! ah! yes!" kindly said John, "poor fellow!" + +All the puppets then rolled off to the breakfast. + +Adrian hurried after Richard in an extremely discontented state of mind. +Not to be at the breakfast and see the best of the fun, disgusted him. +However, he remembered that he was a philosopher, and the strong disgust +he felt was only expressed in concentrated cynicism on every earthly +matter engendered by the conversation. They walked side by side into +Kensington Gardens. The hero was mouthing away to himself, talking by +fits. + +Presently he faced Adrian, crying: "And I might have stopped it! I see +it now! I might have stopped it by going straight to him, and asking him +if he dared marry a girl who did not love him. And I never thought of +it. Good heaven! I feel this miserable affair on my conscience." + +"Ah!" groaned Adrian. "An unpleasant cargo for the conscience, that! +I would rather carry anything on mine than a married couple. Do you +purpose going to him now?" + +The hero soliloquized: "He's not a bad sort of man."... + +"Well, he's not a Cavalier," said Adrian, "and that's why you wonder +your aunt selected him, no doubt? He's decidedly of the Roundhead type, +with the Puritan extracted, or inoffensive, if latent." + +"There's the double infamy!" cried Richard, "that a man you can't call +bad, should do this damned thing!" + +"Well, it's hard we can't find a villain." + +"He would have listened to me, I'm sure." + +"Go to him now, Richard, my son. Go to him now. It's not yet too late. +Who knows? If he really has a noble elevated superior mind--though not a +Cavalier in person, he may be one at heart--he might, to please you, and +since you put such stress upon it, abstain...perhaps with some loss of +dignity, but never mind. And the request might be singular, or seem so, +but everything has happened before in this world, you know, my dear +boy. And what an infinite consolation it is for the eccentric, that +reflection!" + +The hero was impervious to the wise youth. He stared at him as if he +were but a speck in the universe he visioned. + +It was provoking that Richard should be Adrian's best subject for +cynical pastime, in the extraordinary heterodoxies he started, and his +worst in the way he took it; and the wise youth, against his will, had +to feel as conscious of the young man's imaginative mental armour, as he +was of his muscular physical. + +"The same sort of day!" mused Richard, looking up. "I suppose my +father's right. We make our own fates, and nature has nothing to do with +it." + +Adrian yawned. + +"Some difference in the trees, though," Richard continued abstractedly. + +"Growing bald at the top," said Adrian. + +"Will you believe that my aunt Helen compared the conduct of that +wretched slave Clare to Lucy's, who, she had the cruel insolence to say, +entangled me into marriage?" the hero broke out loudly and rapidly. "You +know--I told you, Adrian--how I had to threaten and insist, and how she +pleaded, and implored me to wait." + +"Ah! hum!" mumbled Adrian. + +"You remember my telling you?" Richard was earnest to hear her +exonerated. + +"Pleaded and implored, my dear boy? Oh, no doubt she did. Where's the +lass that doesn't." + +"Call my wife by another name, if you please." + +"The generic title can't be cancelled because of your having married one +of the body, my son." + +"She did all she could to persuade me to wait!" emphasized Richard. + +Adrian shook his head with a deplorable smile. + +"Come, come, my good Ricky; not all! not all!" + +Richard bellowed: "What more could she have done?" + +"She could have shaved her head, for instance." + +This happy shaft did stick. With a furious exclamation Richard shot +in front, Adrian following him; and asking him (merely to have his +assumption verified), whether he did not think she might have shaved her +head? and, presuming her to have done so, whether, in candour, he did +not think he would have waited--at least till she looked less of a rank +lunatic? + +After a minute or so, the wise youth was but a fly buzzing about +Richard's head. Three weeks of separation from Lucy, and an excitement +deceased, caused him to have soft yearnings for the dear lovely +home-face. He told Adrian it was his intention to go down that night. +Adrian immediately became serious. He was at a loss what to invent +to detain him, beyond the stale fiction that his father was coming +to-morrow. He rendered homage to the genius of woman in these straits. +"My aunt," he thought, "would have the lie ready; and not only that, but +she would take care it did its work." + +At this juncture the voice of a cavalier in the Row hailed them, proving +to be the Honourable Peter Brayder, Lord Mountfalcon's parasite. He +greeted them very cordially; and Richard, remembering some fun they had +in the Island, asked him to dine with them; postponing his return till +the next day. Lucy was his. It was even sweet to dally with the delight +of seeing her. + +The Hon. Peter was one who did honour to the body he belonged to. Though +not so tall as a west of London footman, he was as shapely; and he had +a power of making his voice insinuating, or arrogant, as it suited the +exigencies of his profession. He had not a rap of money in the world; +yet he rode a horse, lived high, expended largely. The world said that +the Hon. Peter was salaried by his Lordship, and that, in common with +that of Parasite, he exercised the ancient companion profession. This +the world said, and still smiled at the Hon. Peter; for he was an +engaging fellow, and where he went not Lord Mountfalcon would not go. + +They had a quiet little hotel dinner, ordered by Adrian, and made a +square at the table, Ripton Thompson being the fourth. Richard sent +down to his office to fetch him, and the two friends shook hands for +the first time since the great deed had been executed. Deep was the +Old Dog's delight to hear the praises of his Beauty sounded by such +aristocratic lips as the Hon. Peter Brayder's. All through the dinner he +was throwing out hints and small queries to get a fuller account of her; +and when the claret had circulated, he spoke a word or two himself, +and heard the Hon. Peter eulogize his taste, and wish him a bride as +beautiful; at which Ripton blushed, and said, he had no hope of that, +and the Hon. Peter assured him marriage did not break the mould. + +After the wine this gentleman took his cigar on the balcony, and found +occasion to get some conversation with Adrian alone. + +"Our young friend here--made it all right with the governor?" he asked +carelessly. + +"Oh yes!" said Adrian. But it struck him that Brayder might be of +assistance in showing Richard a little of the `society in every form' +required by his chief's prescript. "That is," he continued, "we are not +yet permitted an interview with the august author of our being, and I +have rather a difficult post. 'Tis mine both to keep him here, and also +to find him the opportunity to measure himself with his fellow-man. In +other words, his father wants him to see something of life before he +enters upon housekeeping. Now I am proud to confess that I'm hardly +equal to the task. The demi, or damnedmonde--if it's that lie wants him +to observe--is one that I leave not got the walk to." + +"Ha! ha!" laughed Brayder. "You do the keeping, I offer to parade the +demi. I must say, though, it's a queer notion of the old gentleman." + +"It's the continuation of a philosophic plan," said Adrian. + +Brayder followed the curvings of the whiff of his cigar with his eyes, +and ejaculated, "Infernally philosophic!" + +"Has Lord Mountfalcon left the island?" Adrian inquired. + +"Mount? to tell the truth I don't know where he is. Chasing some light +craft, I suppose. That's poor Mount's weakness. It's his ruin, poor +fellow! He's so confoundedly in earnest at the game." + +"He ought to know it by this time, if fame speaks true," remarked +Adrian. + +"He's a baby about women, and always will be," said Brayder. "He's been +once or twice wanting to marry them. Now there's a woman--you've +heard of Mrs. Mount? All the world knows her.--If that woman hadn't +scandalized."--The young man joined them, and checked the communication. +Brayder winked to Adrian, and pitifully indicated the presence of an +innocent. + +"A married man, you know," said Adrian. + +"Yes, yes!--we won't shock him," Brayder observed. He appeared to study +the young man while they talked. + +Next morning Richard was surprised by a visit from his aunt. Mrs. Doria +took a seat by his side and spoke as follows: + +"My dear nephew. Now you know I have always loved you, and thought of +your welfare as if you had been my own child. More than that, I fear. +Well, now, you are thinking of returning to--to that place--are you not? +Yes. It is as I thought. Very well now, let me speak to you. You are +in a much more dangerous position than you imagine. I don't deny your +father's affection for you. It would be absurd to deny it. But you are +of an age now to appreciate his character. Whatever you may do he will +always give you money. That you are sure of; that you know. Very well. +But you are one to want more than money: you want his love. Richard, I +am convinced you will never be happy, whatever base pleasures you may be +led into, if he should withhold his love from you. Now, child, you +know you have grievously offended him. I wish not to animadvert on your +conduct.--You fancied yourself in love, and so on, and you were rash. +The less said of it the better now. But you must now--it is your duty +now to do something--to do everything that lies in your power to show +him you repent. No interruptions! Listen to me. You must consider +him. Austin is not like other men. Austin requires the most delicate +management. You must--whether you feel it or no--present an appearance +of contrition. I counsel it for the good of all. He is just like a +woman, and where his feelings are offended he wants utter subservience. +He has you in town, and he does not see you:--now you know that he and +I are not in communication: we have likewise our differences:--Well, he +has you in town, and he holds aloof:--he is trying you, my dear Richard. +No: he is not at Raynham: I do not know where he is. He is trying you, +child, and you must be patient. You must convince him that you do not +care utterly for your own gratification. If this person--I wish to speak +of her with respect, for your sake--well, if she loves you at all--if, I +say, she loves you one atom, she will repeat my solicitations for you +to stay and patiently wait here till he consents to see you. I tell you +candidly, it's your only chance of ever getting him to receive her. That +you should know. And now, Richard, I may add that there is something +else you should know. You should know that it depends entirely upon your +conduct now, whether you are to see your father's heart for ever divided +from you, and a new family at Raynham. You do not understand? I will +explain. Brothers and sisters are excellent things for young people, but +a new brood of them can hardly be acceptable to a young man. In fact, +they are, and must be, aliens. I only tell you what I have heard on good +authority. Don't you understand now? Foolish boy! if you do not humour +him, he will marry her. Oh! I am sure of it. I know it. And this you +will drive him to. I do not warn you on the score of your prospects, +but of your feelings. I should regard such a contingency, Richard, as a +final division between you. Think of the scandal! but alas, that is the +least of the evils." + +It was Mrs. Doria's object to produce an impression, and avoid an +argument. She therefore left him as soon as she had, as she supposed, +made her mark on the young man. Richard was very silent during the +speech, and save for an exclamation or so, had listened attentively. He +pondered on what his aunt said. He loved Lady Blandish, and yet he did +not wish to see her Lady Feverel. Mrs. Doria laid painful stress on the +scandal, and though he did not give his mind to this, he thought of it. +He thought of his mother. Where was she? But most his thoughts recurred +to his father, and something akin to jealousy slowly awakened his heart +to him. He had given him up, and had not latterly felt extremely filial; +but he could not bear the idea of a division in the love of which he +had ever been the idol and sole object. And such a man, too! so good! +so generous! If it was jealousy that roused the young man's heart to his +father, the better part of love was also revived in it. He thought of +old days: of his father's forbearance, his own wilfulness. He looked +on himself, and what he had done, with the eyes of such a man. He +determined to do all he could to regain his favour. + +Mrs. Doria learnt from Adrian in the evening that her nephew intended +waiting in town another week. + +"That will do," smiled Mrs. Doria. "He will be more patient at the end +of a week." + +"Oh! does patience beget patience?" said Adrian. "I was not aware it was +a propagating virtue. I surrender him to you. I shan't be able to hold +him in after one week more. I assure you, my dear aunt, he's already"... + +"Thank you, no explanation," Mrs. Doria begged. + +When Richard saw her nest, he was informed that she had received a most +satisfactory letter from Mrs. John Todhunter: quite a glowing account of +John's behaviour: but on Richard's desiring to know the words Clare +had written, Mrs. Doria objected to be explicit, and shot into worldly +gossip. + +"Clare seldom glows," said Richard. + +"No, I mean for her," his aunt remarked. "Don't look like your father, +child." + +"I should like to have seen the letter," said Richard. + +Mrs. Doria did not propose to show it. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI + +A Lady driving a pair of greys was noticed by Richard in his rides and +walks. She passed him rather obviously and often. She was very handsome; +a bold beauty, with shining black hair, red lips, and eyes not afraid +of men. The hair was brushed from her temples, leaving one of those fine +reckless outlines which the action of driving, and the pace, admirably +set off. She took his fancy. He liked the air of petulant gallantry +about her, and mused upon the picture, rare to him, of a glorious +dashing woman. He thought, too, she looked at him. He was not at the +time inclined to be vain, or he might have been sure she did. Once it +struck him she nodded slightly. + +He asked Adrian one day in the park--who she was. + +"I don't know her," said Adrian. "Probably a superior priestess of +Paphos." + +"Now that's my idea of Bellona," Richard exclaimed. "Not the fury they +paint, but a spirited, dauntless, eager-looking creature like that." + +"Bellona?" returned the wise youth. "I don't think her hair was black. +Red, wasn't it? I shouldn't compare her to Bellona; though, no doubt, +she's as ready to spill blood. Look at her! She does seem to scent +carnage. I see your idea. No; I should liken her to Diana emerged from +the tutorship of Master Endymion, and at nice play among the gods. +Depend upon it--they tell us nothing of the matter--Olympus shrouds the +story--but you may be certain that when she left the pretty shepherd she +had greater vogue than Venus up aloft." + +Brayder joined them. + +"See Mrs. Mount go by?" he said. + +"Oh, that's Mrs. Mount!" cried Adrian. + +"Who's Mrs. Mount?" Richard inquired. + +"A sister to Miss Random, my dear boy." + +"Like to know her?" drawled the Hon. Peter. + +Richard replied indifferently, "No," and Mrs. Mount passed out of sight +and out of the conversation. + +The young man wrote submissive letters to his father. "I have remained +here waiting to see you now five weeks," he wrote. "I have written to +you three letters, and you do not reply to them. Let me tell you again +how sincerely I desire and pray that you will come, or permit me to come +to you and throw myself at your feet, and beg my forgiveness, and hers. +She as earnestly implores it. Indeed, I am very wretched, sir. Believe +me, there is nothing I would not do to regain your esteem and the love I +fear I have unhappily forfeited. I will remain another week in the hope +of hearing from you, or seeing you. I beg of you, sir, not to drive me +mad. Whatever you ask of me I will consent to." + +"Nothing he would not do!" the baronet commented as he read. "There is +nothing he would not do! He will remain another week and give me that +final chance! And it is I who drive him mad! Already he is beginning to +cast his retribution on my shoulders." + +Sir Austin had really gone down to Wales to be out of the way. A +Shaddock-Dogmatist does not meet misfortune without hearing of it, and +the author of The Pilgrim'S Scrip in trouble found London too hot for +him. He quitted London to take refuge among the mountains; living there +in solitary commune with a virgin Note-book. + +Some indefinite scheme was in his head in this treatment of his son. Had +he construed it, it would have looked ugly; and it settled to a vague +principle that the young man should be tried and tested. + +"Let him learn to deny himself something. Let him live with his equals +for a term. If he loves me he will read my wishes." Thus he explained +his principle to Lady Blandish. + +The lady wrote: "You speak of a term. Till when? May I name one to him? +It is the dreadful uncertainty that reduces him to despair. That, and +nothing else. Pray be explicit." + +In return, he distantly indicated Richard's majority. + +How could Lady Blandish go and ask the young man to wait a year away +from his wife? Her instinct began to open a wide eye on the idol she +worshipped. + +When people do not themselves know what they mean, they succeed +in deceiving and imposing upon others. Not only was Lady Blandish +mystified; Mrs. Doria, who pierced into the recesses of everybody's +mind, and had always been in the habit of reading off her brother from +infancy, and had never known herself to be once wrong about him, she +confessed she was quite at a loss to comprehend Austin's principle. "For +principle he has," said Mrs. Doria; "he never acts without one. But what +it is, I cannot at present perceive. If he would write, and command +the boy to await his return, all would be clear. He allows us to go and +fetch him, and then leaves us all in a quandary. It must be some woman's +influence. That is the only way to account for it." + +"Singular!" interjected Adrian, "what pride women have in their sex! +Well, I have to tell you, my dear aunt, that the day after to-morrow I +hand my charge over to your keeping. I can't hold him in an hour +longer. I've had to leash him with lies till my invention's exhausted. +I petition to have them put down to the chief's account, but when the +stream runs dry I can do no more. The last was, that I had heard from +him desiring me to have the South-west bedroom ready for him on Tuesday +proximate. 'So!' says my son, 'I'll wait till then,' and from the +gigantic effort he exhibited in coming to it, I doubt any human power's +getting him to wait longer." + +"We must, we must detain him," said Mrs. Doria. "If we do not, I am +convinced Austin will do something rash that he will for ever repent. He +will marry that woman, Adrian. Mark my words. Now with any other young +man!... But Richard's education! that ridiculous System!... Has he no +distraction? nothing to amuse him?" + +"Poor boy! I suppose he wants his own particular playfellow." + +The wise youth had to bow to a reproof. + +"I tell you, Adrian, he will marry that woman." + +"My dear aunt! Can a chaste man do aught more commendable?" + +"Has the boy no object we can induce him to follow?--If he had but a +profession!" + +"What say you to the regeneration of the streets of London, and the +profession of moral-scavenger, aunt? I assure you I have served a +month's apprenticeship with him. We sally forth on the tenth hour of the +night. A female passes. I hear him groan. 'Is she one of them, Adrian?' +I am compelled to admit she is not the saint he deems it the portion +of every creature wearing petticoats to be. Another groan; an evident +internal, 'It cannot be--and yet!'...that we hear on the stage. Rollings +of eyes: impious questionings of the Creator of the universe; savage +mutterings against brutal males; and then we meet a second young person, +and repeat the performance--of which I am rather tired. It would be all +very well, but he turns upon me, and lectures me because I don't hire a +house, and furnish it for all the women one meets to live in in purity. +Now that's too much to ask of a quiet man. Master Thompson has latterly +relieved me, I'm happy to say." + +Mrs. Doria thought her thoughts. + +"Has Austin written to you since you were in town?" + +"Not an Aphorism!" returned Adrian. + +"I must see Richard to-morrow morning," Mrs. Doria ended the colloquy by +saying. + +The result of her interview with her nephew was, that Richard made no +allusion to a departure on the Tuesday; and for many days afterward he +appeared to have an absorbing business on his hands: but what it was +Adrian did not then learn, and his admiration of Mrs. Doria's genius for +management rose to a very high pitch. + +On a morning in October they had an early visitor in the person of the +Hon. Peter, whom they had not seen for a week or more. + +"Gentlemen," he said, flourishing his cane in his most affable manner, +"I've come to propose to you to join us in a little dinner-party at +Richmond. Nobody's in town, you know. London's as dead as a stock-fish. +Nothing but the scrapings to offer you. But the weather's fine: I +flatter myself you'll find the company agreeable, What says my friend +Feverel?" + +Richard begged to be excused. + +"No, no: positively you must come," said the Hon. Peter. "I've had +some trouble to get them together to relieve the dulness of your +incarceration. Richmond's within the rules of your prison. You can be +back by night. Moonlight on the water--lovely woman. We've engaged a +city-barge to pull us back. Eight oars--I'm not sure it isn't sixteen. +Come--the word!" + +Adrian was for going. Richard said he had an appointment with Ripton. + +"You're in for another rick, you two," said Adrian. "Arrange that we +go. You haven't seen the cockney's Paradise. Abjure Blazes, and taste of +peace, my son." + +After some persuasion, Richard yawned wearily, and got up, and threw +aside the care that was on him, saying, "Very well. Just as you like. +We'll take old Rip with us." + +Adrian consulted Brayder's eye at this. The Hon. Peter briskly declared +he should be delighted to have Feverel's friend, and offered to take +them all down in his drag. + +"If you don't get a match on to swim there with the tide--eh, Feverel, +my boy?" + +Richard replied that he had given up that sort of thing, at which +Brayder communicated a queer glance to Adrian, and applauded the youth. + +Richmond was under a still October sun. The pleasant landscape, bathed +in Autumn, stretched from the foot of the hill to a red horizon haze. +The day was like none that Richard vividly remembered. It touched no +link in the chain of his recollection. It was quiet, and belonged to the +spirit of the season. + +Adrian had divined the character of the scrapings they were to meet. +Brayder introduced them to one or two of the men, hastily and in rather +an undervoice, as a thing to get over. They made their bow to the first +knot of ladies they encountered. Propriety was observed strictly, even +to severity. The general talk was of the weather. Here and there a lady +would seize a button-hole or any little bit of the habiliments, of the +man she was addressing; and if it came to her to chide him, she did it +with more than a forefinger. This, however, was only here and there, and +a privilege of intimacy. + +Where ladies are gathered together, the Queen of the assemblage may be +known by her Court of males. The Queen of the present gathering leaned +against a corner of the open window, surrounded by a stalwart Court, in +whom a practised eye would have discerned guardsmen, and Ripton, with +a sinking of the heart, apprehended lords. They were fine men, offering +inanimate homage. The trim of their whiskerage, the cut of their coats, +the high-bred indolence in their aspect, eclipsed Ripton's sense of +self-esteem. But they kindly looked over him. Occasionally one committed +a momentary outrage on him with an eye-glass, seeming to cry out in a +voice of scathing scorn, "Who's this?" and Ripton got closer to his hero +to justify his humble pretensions to existence and an identity in the +shadow of him. Richard gazed about. Heroes do not always know what to +say or do; and the cold bath before dinner in strange company is one of +the instances. He had recognized his superb Bellona in the lady by the +garden window. For Brayder the men had nods and yokes, the ladies +a pretty playfulness. He was very busy, passing between the groups, +chatting, laughing, taking the feminine taps he received, and sometimes +returning them in sly whispers. Adrian sat down and crossed his legs, +looking amused and benignant. + +"Whose dinner is it?" Ripton heard a mignonne beauty ask of a cavalier. + +"Mount's, I suppose," was the answer. + +"Where is he? Why don't he come?" + +"An affaire, I fancy." + +"There he is again! How shamefully he treats Mrs. Mount!" + +"She don't seem to cry over it." + +Mrs. Mount was flashing her teeth and eyes with laughter at one of her +Court, who appeared to be Fool. + +Dinner was announced. The ladies proclaimed extravagant appetites. +Brayder posted his three friends. Ripton found himself under the lee of +a dame with a bosom. On the other aide of him was the mignonne. Adrian +was at the lower end of the table. Ladies were in profusion, and he +had his share. Brayder drew Richard from seat to seat. A happy man had +established himself next to Mrs. Mount. Him Brayder hailed to take the +head of the table. The happy man objected, Brayder continued urgent, the +lady tenderly insisted, the happy man grimaced, dropped into the post of +honour, strove to look placable. Richard usurped his chair, and was not +badly welcomed by his neighbour. + +Then the dinner commenced, and had all the attention of the company, +till the flying of the first champagne-cork gave the signal, and a +hum began to spread. Sparkling wine, that looseneth the tongue, and +displayeth the verity, hath also the quality of colouring it. The ladies +laughed high; Richard only thought them gay and natural. They flung +back in their chairs and laughed to tears; Ripton thought only of +the pleasure he had in their society. The champagne-corks continued a +regular file-firing. + +"Where have you been lately? I haven't seen you in the park," said Mrs. +Mount to Richard. + +"No," he replied, "I've not been there." The question seemed odd: she +spoke so simply that it did not impress him. He emptied his glass, and +had it filled again. + +The Hon. Peter did most of the open talking, which related to horses, +yachting, opera, and sport generally: who was ruined; by what horse, +or by what woman. He told one or two of Richard's feats. Fair smiles +rewarded the hero. + +"Do you bet?" said Mrs. Mount. + +"Only on myself," returned Richard. + +"Bravo!" cried his Bellona, and her eye sent a lingering delirious +sparkle across her brimming glass at him. + +"I'm sure you're a safe one to back," she added, and seemed to scan his +points approvingly. + +Richard's cheeks mounted bloom. + +"Don't you adore champagne?" quoth the dame with a bosom to Ripton. + +"Oh, yes!" answered Ripton, with more candour than accuracy, "I always +drink it." + +"Do you indeed?" said the enraptured bosom, ogling him. "You would be a +friend, now! I hope you don't object to a lady joining you now and then. +Champagne's my folly." + +A laugh was circling among the ladies of whom Adrian was the centre; +first low, and as he continued some narration, peals resounded, till +those excluded from the fun demanded the cue, and ladies leaned behind +gentlemen to take it up, and formed an electric chain of laughter. Each +one, as her ear received it, caught up her handkerchief, and laughed, +and looked shocked afterwards, or looked shocked and then spouted +laughter. The anecdote might have been communicated to the bewildered +cavaliers, but coming to a lady of a demurer cast, she looked shocked +without laughing, and reproved the female table, in whose breasts it was +consigned to burial: but here and there a man's head was seen bent, and +a lady's mouth moved, though her face was not turned toward him, and +a man's broad laugh was presently heard, while the lady gazed +unconsciously before her, and preserved her gravity if she could +escape any other lady's eyes; failing in which, handkerchiefs were +simultaneously seized, and a second chime arose, till the tickling force +subsided to a few chance bursts. + +What nonsense it is that my father writes about women! thought Richard. +He says they can't laugh, and don't understand humour. It comes, he +reflected, of his shutting himself from the world. And the idea that +he was seeing the world, and feeling wiser, flattered him. He talked +fluently to his dangerous Bellona. He gave her some reminiscences of +Adrian's whimsies. + +"Oh!" said she, "that's your tutor, is it!" She eyed the young man as if +she thought he must go far and fast. + +Ripton felt a push. "Look at that," said the bosom, fuming utter +disgust. He was directed to see a manly arm round the waist of the +mignonne. "Now that's what I don't like in company," the bosom inflated +to observe with sufficient emphasis. "She always will allow it with +everybody. Give her a nudge." + +Ripton protested that he dared not; upon which she said, "Then I will"; +and inclined her sumptuous bust across his lap, breathing wine in +his face, and gave the nudge. The mignonne turned an inquiring eye on +Ripton; a mischievous spark shot from it. She laughed, and said; "Aren't +you satisfied with the old girl?" + +"Impudence!" muttered the bosom, growing grander and redder. + +"Do, do fill her glass, and keep her quiet--she drinks port when there's +no more champagne," said the mignonne. + +The bosom revenged herself by whispering to Ripton scandal of the +mignonne, and between them he was enabled to form a correcter estimate +of the company, and quite recovered from his original awe: so much so as +to feel a touch of jealousy at seeing his lively little neighbour still +held in absolute possession. + +Mrs. Mount did not come out much; but there was a deferential manner in +the bearing of the men toward her, which those haughty creatures accord +not save to clever women; and she contrived to hold the talk with three +or four at the head of the table while she still had passages aside with +Richard. + +The port and claret went very well after the champagne. The ladies +here did not ignominiously surrender the field to the gentlemen; they +maintained their position with honour. Silver was seen far out on +Thames. The wine ebbed, and the laughter. Sentiment and cigars took up +the wondrous tale. + +"Oh, what a lovely night!" said the ladies, looking above. + +"Charming," said the gentlemen, looking below. + +The faint-smelling cool Autumn air was pleasant after the feast. +Fragrant weeds burned bright about the garden. + +"We are split into couples," said Adrian to Richard, who was standing +alone, eying the landscape. "Tis the influence of the moon! Apparently +we are in Cyprus. How has my son enjoyed himself? How likes he the +society of Aspasia? I feel like a wise Greek to-night." + +Adrian was jolly, and rolled comfortably as he talked. Ripton had been +carried off by the sentimental bosom. He came up to them and whispered: +"By Jove, Ricky! do you know what sort of women these are?" + +Richard said he thought them a nice sort. + +"Puritan!" exclaimed Adrian, slapping Ripton on the back. "Why didn't +you get tipsy, sir? Don't you ever intoxicate yourself except at lawful +marriages? Reveal to us what you have done with the portly dame?" + +Ripton endured his bantering that he might hang about Richard, and +watch over him. He was jealous of his innocent Beauty's husband being in +proximity with such women. Murmuring couples passed them to and fro. + +"By Jove, Ricky!" Ripton favoured his friend with another hard whisper, +"there's a woman smoking!" + +"And why not, O Riptonus?" said Adrian. "Art unaware that woman +cosmopolitan is woman consummate? and dost grumble to pay the small +price for the splendid gem?" + +"Well, I don't like women to smoke," said plain Ripton. + +"Why mayn't they do what men do?" the hero cried impetuously. "I hate +that contemptible narrow-mindedness. It's that makes the ruin and +horrors I see. Why mayn't they do what men do? I like the women who are +brave enough not to be hypocrites. By heaven! if these women are bad, I +like them better than a set of hypocritical creatures who are all show, +and deceive you in the end." + +"Bravo!" shouted Adrian. "There speaks the regenerator." + +Ripton, as usual, was crushed by his leader. He had no argument. He +still thought women ought not to smoke; and he thought of one far away, +lonely by the sea, who was perfect without being cosmopolitan. + +The Pilgrim's Scrip remarks that: "Young men take joy in nothing so much +as the thinking women Angels: and nothing sours men of experience more +than knowing that all are not quite so." + +The Aphorist would have pardoned Ripton Thompson his first Random +extravagance, had he perceived the simple warm-hearted worship of +feminine goodness Richard's young bride had inspired in the breast of +the youth. It might possibly have taught him to put deeper trust in our +nature. + +Ripton thought of her, and had a feeling of sadness. He wandered about +the grounds by himself, went through an open postern, and threw himself +down among some bushes on the slope of the hill. Lying there, and +meditating, he became aware of voices conversing. + +"What does he want?" said a woman's voice. "It's another of his +villanies, I know. Upon my honour, Brayder, when I think of what I have +to reproach him for, I think I must go mad, or kill him." + +"Tragic!" said the Hon. Peter. "Haven't you revenged yourself, Bella, +pretty often? Best deal openly. This is a commercial transaction. You +ask for money, and you are to have it--on the conditions: double the +sum, and debts paid." + +"He applies to me!" + +"You know, my dear Bella, it has long been all up between you. I think +Mount has behaved very well, considering all he knows. He's not easily +hoodwinked, you know. He resigns himself to his fate and follows other +game." + +"Then the condition is, that I am to seduce this young man?" + +"My dear Bella! you strike your bird like a hawk. I didn't say seduce. +Hold him in--play with him. Amuse him." + +"I don't understand half-measures." + +"Women seldom do." + +"How I hate you, Brayder!" + +"I thank your ladyship." + +The two walked farther. Ripton had heard some little of the colloquy. He +left the spot in a serious mood, apprehensive of something dark to +the people he loved, though he had no idea of what the Hon. Peter's +stipulation involved. + +On the voyage back to town, Richard was again selected to sit by Mrs. +Mount. Brayder and Adrian started the jokes. The pair of parasites got +on extremely well together. Soft fell the plash of the oars; softly the +moonlight curled around them; softly the banks glided by. The ladies +were in a state of high sentiment. They sang without request. All deemed +the British ballad-monger an appropriate interpreter of their emotions. +After good wine, and plenty thereof, fair throats will make men of taste +swallow that remarkable composer. Eyes, lips, hearts; darts and smarts +and sighs; beauty, duty; bosom, blossom; false one, farewell! To this +pathetic strain they melted. Mrs. Mount, though strongly requested, +declined to sing. She preserved her state. Under the tall aspens +of Brentford-ait, and on they swept, the white moon in their wake. +Richard's hand lay open by his side. Mrs. Mount's little white hand by +misadventure fell into it. It was not pressed, or soothed for its fall, +or made intimate with eloquent fingers. It lay there like a bit of snow +on the cold ground. A yellow leaf wavering down from the aspens struck +Richard's cheek, and he drew away the very hand to throw back his hair +and smooth his face, and then folded his arms, unconscious of offence. +He was thinking ambitiously of his life: his blood was untroubled, his +brain calmly working. + +"Which is the more perilous?" is a problem put by the Pilgrim: "To meet +the temptings of Eve, or to pique her?" + +Mrs. Mount stared at the young man as at a curiosity, and turned to +flirt with one of her Court. The Guardsmen were mostly sentimental. +One or two rattled, and one was such a good-humoured fellow that Adrian +could not make him ridiculous. The others seemed to give themselves +up to a silent waxing in length of limb. However far they sat removed, +everybody was entangled in their legs. Pursuing his studies, Adrian came +to the conclusion, that the same close intellectual and moral affinity +which he had discovered to exist between our nobility and our yeomanry, +is to be observed between the Guardsman class, and that of the corps de +ballet: they both live by the strength of their legs, where also their +wits, if they do not altogether reside there, are principally developed: +both are volage; wine, tobacco, and the moon, influence both alike; and +admitting the one marked difference that does exist, it is, after all, +pretty nearly the same thing to be coquetting and sinning on two legs as +on the point of a toe. + +A long Guardsman with a deep bass voice sang a doleful song about the +twining tendrils of the heart ruthlessly torn, but required urgent +persuasions and heavy trumpeting of his lungs to get to the end: before +he had accomplished it, Adrian had contrived to raise a laugh in his +neighbourhood, so that the company was divided, and the camp split: +jollity returned to one-half, while sentiment held the other. Ripton, +blotted behind the bosom, was only lucky in securing a higher degree +of heat than was possible for the rest. "Are you cold?" she would ask, +smiling charitably. + +"I am," said the mignonne, as if to excuse her conduct. + +"You always appear to be," the fat one sniffed and snapped. + +"Won't you warm two, Mrs. Mortimer?" said the naughty little woman. + +Disdain prevented any further notice of her. Those familiar with the +ladies enjoyed their sparring, which was frequent. The mignonne was +heard to whisper: "That poor fellow will certainly be stewed." + +Very prettily the ladies took and gave warmth, for the air on the +water was chill and misty. Adrian had beside him the demure one who had +stopped the circulation of his anecdote. She in nowise objected to the +fair exchange, but said "Hush!" betweenwhiles. + +Past Kew and Hammersmith, on the cool smooth water; across Putney reach; +through Battersea bridge; and the City grew around them, and the shadows +of great mill-factories slept athwart the moonlight. + +All the ladies prattled sweetly of a charming day when they alighted on +land. Several cavaliers crushed for the honour of conducting Mrs. Mount +to her home. + +"My brougham's here; I shall go alone," said Mrs. Mount. "Some one +arrange my shawl." + +She turned her back to Richard, who had a view of a delicate neck as he +manipulated with the bearing of a mailed knight. + +"Which way are you going?" she asked carelessly, and, to his reply as to +the direction, said: "Then I can give you a lift," and she took his arm +with a matter-of-course air, and walked up the stairs with him. + +Ripton saw what had happened. He was going to follow: the portly dame +retained him, and desired him to get her a cab. + +"Oh, you happy fellow!" said the bright-eyed mignonne, passing by. + +Ripton procured the cab, and stuffed it full without having to get into +it himself. + +"Try and let him come in too?" said the persecuting creature, again +passing. + +"Take liberties with pour men--you shan't with me," retorted the angry +bosom, and drove off. + +"So she's been and gone and run away and left him after all his +trouble!" cried the pert little thing, peering into Ripton's eyes. "Now +you'll never be so foolish as to pin your faith to fat women again. +There! he shall be made happy another time." She gave his nose a comical +tap, and tripped away with her possessor. + +Ripton rather forgot his friend for some minutes: Random thoughts laid +hold of him. Cabs and carriages rattled past. He was sure he had been +among members of the nobility that day, though when they went by him +now they only recognized him with an effort of the eyelids. He began +to think of the day with exultation, as an event. Recollections of the +mignonne were captivating. "Blue eyes--just what I like! And such a +little impudent nose, and red lips, pouting--the very thing I like! And +her hair? darkish, I think--say brown. And so saucy, and light on her +feet. And kind she is, or she wouldn't have talked to me like that." +Thus, with a groaning soul, he pictured her. His reason voluntarily +consigned her to the aristocracy as a natural appanage: but he did +amorously wish that Fortune had made a lord of him. + +Then his mind reverted to Mrs. Mount, and the strange bits of the +conversation he had heard on the hill. He was not one to suspect anybody +positively. He was timid of fixing a suspicion. It hovered indefinitely, +and clouded people, without stirring him to any resolve. Still the +attentions of the lady toward Richard were queer. He endeavoured to +imagine they were in the nature of things, because Richard was so +handsome that any woman must take to him. "But he's married," said +Ripton, "and he mustn't go near these people if he's married." Not a +high morality, perhaps better than none at all: better for the world +were it practised more. He thought of Richard along with that sparkling +dame, alone with her. The adorable beauty of his dear bride, her pure +heavenly face, swam before him. Thinking of her, he lost sight of the +mignonne who had made him giddy. + +He walked to Richard's hotel, and up and down the street there, hoping +every minute to hear his step; sometimes fancying he might have returned +and gone to bed. Two o'clock struck. Ripton could not go away. He was +sure he should not sleep if he did. At last the cold sent him homeward, +and leaving the street, on the moonlight side of Piccadilly he met his +friend patrolling with his head up and that swing of the feet proper to +men who are chanting verses. + +"Old Rip!" cried Richard, cheerily. "What on earth are you doing here at +this hour of the morning?" + +Ripton muttered of his pleasure at meeting him. "I wanted to shake your +hand before I went home." + +Richard smiled on him in an amused kindly way. "That all? You may shake +my hand any day, like a true man as you are, old Rip! I've been speaking +about you. Do you know, that--Mrs. Mount--never saw you all the time at +Richmond, or in the boat!" + +"Oh!" Ripton said, well assured that he was a dwarf "you saw her safe +home?" + +"Yes. I've been there for the last couple of hours--talking. She talks +capitally: she's wonderfully clever. She's very like a man, only much +nicer. I like her." + +"But, Richard, excuse me--I'm sure I don't mean to offend you--but now +you're married...perhaps you couldn't help seeing her home, but I think +you really indeed oughtn't to have gone upstairs." + +Ripton delivered this opinion with a modest impressiveness. + +"What do you mean?" said Richard. "You don't suppose I care for any +woman but my little darling down there." He laughed. + +"No; of course not. That's absurd. What I mean is, that people perhaps +will--you know, they do--they say all manner of things, and that makes +unhappiness; and I do wish you were going home to-morrow, Ricky. I mean, +to your dear wife." Ripton blushed and looked away as he spoke. + +The hero gave one of his scornful glances. "So you're anxious about my +reputation. I hate that way of looking on women. Because they have been +once misled--look how much weaker they are!--because the world has given +them an ill fame, you would treat them as contagious and keep away from +them for the sake of your character! + +"It would be different with me," quoth Ripton. + +"How?" asked the hero. + +"Because I'm worse than you," was all the logical explanation Ripton was +capable of. + +"I do hope you will go home soon," he added. + +"Yes," said Richard, "and I, so do I hope so. But I've work to do now. I +dare not, I cannot, leave it. Lucy would be the last to ask me;--you saw +her letter yesterday. Now listen to me, Rip. I want to make you be just +to women." + +Then he read Ripton a lecture on erring women, speaking of them as if +he had known them and studied them for years. Clever, beautiful, but +betrayed by love, it was the first duty of all true men to cherish and +redeem them. "We turn them into curses, Rip; these divine creatures." +And the world suffered for it. That--that was the root of all the evil +in the world! + +"I don't feel anger or horror at these poor women, Rip! It's strange. I +knew what they were when we came home in the boat. But I do--it tears +my heart to see a young girl given over to an old man--a man she doesn't +love. That's shame!--Don't speak of it." + +Forgetting to contest the premiss, that all betrayed women are betrayed +by love, Ripton was quite silenced. He, like most young men, had +pondered somewhat on this matter, and was inclined to be sentimental +when he was not hungry. They walked in the moonlight by the railings of +the park. Richard harangued at leisure, while Ripton's teeth chattered. +Chivalry might be dead, but still there was something to do, went the +strain. The lady of the day had not been thrown in the hero's path +without an object, he said; and he was sadly right there. He did not +express the thing clearly; nevertheless Ripton understood him to mean, +he intended to rescue that lady from further transgressions, and show +a certain scorn of the world. That lady, and then other ladies unknown, +were to be rescued. Ripton was to help. He and Ripton were to be the +knights of this enterprise. When appealed to, Ripton acquiesced, and +shivered. Not only were they to be knights, they would have to be +Titans, for the powers of the world, the spurious ruling Social Gods, +would have to be defied and overthrown. And Titan number one flung up +his handsome bold face as if to challenge base Jove on the spot; and +Titan number two strained the upper button of his coat to meet across +his pocket-handkerchief on his chest, and warmed his fingers under his +coat-tails. The moon had fallen from her high seat and was in the mists +of the West, when he was allowed to seek his blankets, and the cold +acting on his friend's eloquence made Ripton's flesh very contrite. The +poor fellow had thinner blood than the hero; but his heart was good. +By the time he had got a little warmth about him, his heart gratefully +strove to encourage him in the conception of becoming a knight and a +Titan; and so striving Ripton fell asleep and dreamed. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII + +Behold the hero embarked in the redemption of an erring beautiful woman. + +"Alas!" writes the Pilgrim at this very time to Lady Blandish, "I cannot +get that legend of the Serpent from me, the more I think. Has he not +caught you, and ranked you foremost in his legions? For see: till you +were fashioned, the fruits hung immobile on the boughs. They swayed +before us, glistening and cold. The hand must be eager that plucked +them. They did not come down to us, and smile, and speak our language, +and read our thoughts, and know when to fly, when to follow! how surely +to have us! + +"Do but mark one of you standing openly in the track of the Serpent. +What shall be done with her? I fear the world is wiser than its judges! +Turn from her, says the world. By day the sons of the world do. It +darkens, and they dance together downward. Then comes there one of the +world's elect who deems old counsel devilish; indifference to the end of +evil worse than its pursuit. He comes to reclaim her. From deepest bane +will he bring her back to highest blessing. Is not that a bait already? +Poor fish! 'tis wondrous flattering. The Serpent has slimed her so to +secure him! With slow weary steps he draws her into light: she clings +to him; she is human; part of his work, and he loves it. As they mount +upward, he looks on her more, while she, it may be, looks above. What +has touched him? What has passed out of her, and into him? The Serpent +laughs below. At the gateways of the Sun they fall together!" + +This alliterative production was written without any sense of the peril +that makes prophecy. + +It suited Sir Austin to write thus. It was a channel to his acrimony +moderated through his philosophy. The letter was a reply to a vehement +entreaty from Lady Blandish for him to come up to Richard and forgive +him thoroughly: Richard's name was not mentioned in it. + +"He tries to be more than he is," thought the lady: and she began +insensibly to conceive him less than he was. + +The baronet was conscious of a certain false gratification in his +son's apparent obedience to his wishes and complete submission; a +gratification he chose to accept as his due, without dissecting or +accounting for it. The intelligence reiterating that Richard waited, and +still waited; Richard's letters, and more his dumb abiding and practical +penitence; vindicated humanity sufficiently to stop the course of +virulent aphorisms. He could speak, we have seen, in sorrow for this +frail nature of ours, that he had once stood forth to champion. "But how +long will this last?" he demanded, with the air of Hippias. He did not +reflect how long it had lasted. Indeed, his indigestion of wrath had +made of him a moral Dyspepsy. + +It was not mere obedience that held Richard from the aims of his +young wife: nor was it this new knightly enterprise he had presumed to +undertake. Hero as he was, a youth, open to the insane promptings of hot +blood, he was not a fool. There had been talk between him and Mrs. Doria +of his mother. Now that he had broken from his father, his heart spoke +for her. She lived, he knew: he knew no more. Words painfully hovering +along the borders of plain speech had been communicated to him, filling +him with moody imaginings. If he thought of her, the red was on his +face, though he could not have said why. But now, after canvassing the +conduct of his father, and throwing him aside as a terrible riddle, he +asked Mrs. Doria to tell him of his other parent. As softly as she could +she told the story. To her the shame was past: she could weep for the +poor lady. Richard dropped no tears. Disgrace of this kind is always +present to a son, and, educated as he had been, these tidings were a +vivid fire in his brain. He resolved to hunt her out, and take her from +the man. Here was work set to his hand. All her dear husband did was +right to Lucy. She encouraged him to stay for that purpose, thinking it +also served another. There was Tom Bakewell to watch over Lucy: there +was work for him to do. Whether it would please his father he did not +stop to consider. As to the justice of the act, let us say nothing. + +On Ripton devolved the humbler task of grubbing for Sandoe's place of +residence; and as he was unacquainted with the name by which the poet +now went in private, his endeavours were not immediately successful. +The friends met in the evening at Lady Blandish's town-house, or at the +Foreys', where Mrs. Doria procured the reverer of the Royal Martyr, +and staunch conservative, a favourable reception. Pity, deep pity for +Richard's conduct Ripton saw breathing out of Mrs. Doria. Algernon +Feverel treated his nephew with a sort of rough commiseration, as a +young fellow who had run off the road. + +Pity was in Lady Blandish's eyes, though for a different cause. +She doubted if she did well in seconding his father's unwise +scheme--supposing him to have a scheme. She saw the young husband +encompassed by dangers at a critical time. Not a word of Mrs. Mount +had been breathed to her, but the lady had some knowledge of life. +She touched on delicate verges to the baronet in her letters, and he +understood her well enough. "If he loves this person to whom he +has bound himself, what fear for him? Or are you coming to think it +something that bears the name of love because we have to veil the +rightful appellation?" So he responded, remote among the mountains. She +tried very hard to speak plainly. Finally he came to say that he denied +himself the pleasure of seeing his son specially, that he for a time +might be put to the test the lady seemed to dread. This was almost too +much for Lady Blandish. Love's charity boy so loftily serene now that +she saw him half denuded--a thing of shanks and wrists--was a trial for +her true heart. + +Going home at night Richard would laugh at the faces made about his +marriage. "We'll carry the day, Rip, my Lucy and I! or I'll do it +alone--what there is to do." He slightly adverted to a natural want +of courage in women, which Ripton took to indicate that his Beauty was +deficient in that quality. Up leapt the Old Dog; "I'm sure there never +was a braver creature upon earth, Richard! She's as brave as she's +lovely, I'll swear she is! Look how she behaved that day! How her voice +sounded! She was trembling... Brave? She'd follow you into battle, +Richard!" + +And Richard rejoined: "Talk on, dear old Rip! She's my darling love, +whatever she is! And she is gloriously lovely. No eyes are like hers. +I'll go down to-morrow morning the first thing." + +Ripton only wondered the husband of such a treasure could remain apart +from it. So thought Richard for a space. + +"But if I go, Rip," he said despondently, "if I go for a day even I +shall have undone all my work with my father. She says it herself--you +saw it in her last letter." + +"Yes," Ripton assented, and the words "Please remember me to dear Mr. +Thompson," fluttered about the Old Dog's heart. + +It came to pass that Mrs. Berry, having certain business that led her +through Kensington Gardens, spied a figure that she had once dandled +in long clothes, and helped make a man of, if ever woman did. He +was walking under the trees beside a lady, talking to her, not +indifferently. The gentleman was her bridegroom and her babe. "I know +his back," said Mrs. Berry, as if she had branded a mark on it in +infancy. But the lady was not her bride. Mrs. Berry diverged from the +path, and got before them on the left flank; she stared, retreated, and +came round upon the right. There was that in the lady's face which Mrs. +Berry did not like. Her innermost question was, why he was not walking +with his own wife? She stopped in front of them. They broke, and passed +about her. The lady made a laughing remark to him, whereat he turned to +look, and Mrs. Berry bobbed. She had to bob a second time, and then he +remembered the worthy creature, and hailed her Penelope, shaking her +hand so that he put her in countenance again. Mrs. Berry was extremely +agitated. He dismissed her, promising to call upon her in the evening. +She heard the lady slip out something from a side of her lip, and they +both laughed as she toddled off to a sheltering tree to wipe a corner of +each eye. "I don't like the looks of that woman," she said, and repeated +it resolutely. + +"Why doesn't he walk arm-in-arm with her?" was her neat inquiry. +"Where's his wife?" succeeded it. After many interrogations of the sort, +she arrived at naming the lady a bold-faced thing; adding subsequently, +brazen. The lady had apparently shown Mrs. Berry that she wished to get +rid of her, and had checked the outpouring of her emotions on the breast +of her babe. "I know a lady when I see one," said Mrs. Berry. "I haven't +lived with 'em for nothing; and if she's a lady bred and born, I wasn't +married in the church alive." + +Then, if not a lady, what was she? Mrs. Berry desired to know: "She's +imitation lady, I'm sure she is!" Berry vowed. "I say she don't look +proper." + +Establishing the lady to be a spurious article, however, what was one +to think of a married man in company with such? "Oh no! it ain't that!" +Mrs. Berry returned immediately on the charitable tack. "Belike it's +some one of his acquaintance 've married her for her looks, and he've +just met her.... Why it'd be as bad as my Berry!" the relinquished +spouse of Berry ejaculated, in horror at the idea of a second man being +so monstrous in wickedness. "Just coupled, too!" Mrs. Berry groaned on +the suspicious side of the debate. "And such a sweet young thing for his +wife! But no, I'll never believe it. Not if he tell me so himself! And +men don't do that," she whimpered. + +Women are swift at coming to conclusions in these matters; soft women +exceedingly swift: and soft women who have been betrayed are rapid +beyond measure. Mrs. Berry had not cogitated long ere she pronounced +distinctly and without a shadow of dubiosity: "My opinion is--married +or not married, and wheresomever he pick her up--she's nothin' more +nor less than a Bella Donna!" as which poisonous plant she forthwith +registered the lady in the botanical note-book of her brain. It would +have astonished Mrs. Mount to have heard her person so accurately hit +off at a glance. + +In the evening Richard made good his promise, accompanied by Ripton. +Mrs. Berry opened the door to them. She could not wait to get him +into the parlour. "You're my own blessed babe; and I'm as good as your +mother, though I didn't suck ye, bein' a maid!" she cried, falling into +his arms, while Richard did his best to support the unexpected burden. +Then reproaching him tenderly for his guile--at mention of which Ripton +chuckled, deeming it his own most honourable portion of the plot--Mrs. +Berry led them into the parlour, and revealed to Richard who she was, +and how she had tossed him, and hugged him, and kissed him all over, +when he was only that big--showing him her stumpy fat arm. "I kissed ye +from head to tail, I did," said Mrs. Berry, "and you needn't be ashamed +of it. It's be hoped you'll never have nothin' worse come t'ye, my +dear!" + +Richard assured her he was not a bit ashamed, but warned her that she +must not do it now, Mrs. Berry admitting it was out of the question now, +and now that he had a wife, moreover. The young men laughed, and Ripton +laughing over-loudly drew on himself Mrs. Berry's attention: "But +that Mr. Thompson there--however he can look me in the face after his +inn'cence! helping blindfold an old woman! though I ain't sorry for +what I did--that I'm free for to say, and its' over, and blessed be all! +Amen! So now where is she and how is she, Mr. Richard, my dear--it's +only cuttin' off the 's' and you are as you was.--Why didn't ye bring +her with ye to see her old Berry?" + +Richard hurriedly explained that Lucy was still in the Isle of Wight. + +"Oh! and you've left her for a day or two?" said Mrs. Berry. + +"Good God! I wish it had been a day or two," cried Richard. + +"Ah! and how long have it been?" asked Mrs. Berry, her heart beginning +to beat at his manner of speaking. + +"Don't talk about it," said Richard. + +"Oh! you never been dudgeonin' already? Oh! you haven't been peckin' at +one another yet?" Mrs. Berry exclaimed. + +Ripton interposed to tell her such fears were unfounded. + +"Then how long ha' you been divided?" + +In a guilty voice Ripton stammered "since September." + +"September!" breathed Mrs. Berry, counting on her fingers, "September, +October, Nov--two months and more! nigh three! A young married husband +away from the wife of his bosom nigh three months! Oh my! Oh my! what do +that mean?" + +"My father sent for me--I'm waiting to see him," said Richard. A few +more words helped Mrs. Berry to comprehend the condition of affairs. +Then Mrs. Berry spread her lap, flattened out her hands, fixed her eyes, +and spoke. + +"My dear young gentleman!--I'd like to call ye my darlin' babe! I'm +going to speak as a mother to ye, whether ye likes it or no; and what +old Berry says, you won't mind, for she's had ye when there was no +conventionals about ye, and she has the feelin's of a mother to you, +though humble her state. If there's one that know matrimony it's me, my +dear, though Berry did give me no more but nine months of it and I've +known the worst of matrimony, which, if you wants to be woeful wise, +there it is for ye. For what have been my gain? That man gave me nothin' +but his name; and Bessy Andrews was as good as Bessy Berry, though both +is 'Bs,' and says he, you was 'A,' and now you's 'B,' so you're my A +B, he says, write yourself down that, he says, the bad man, with his +jokes!--Berry went to service." Mrs. Berry's softness came upon her. "So +I tell ye, Berry went to service. He left the wife of his bosom forlorn +and he went to service; because he were allays an ambitious man, and +wasn't, so to speak, happy out of his uniform--which was his livery--not +even in my arms: and he let me know it. He got among them kitchen sluts, +which was my mournin' ready made, and worse than a widow's cap to me, +which is no shame to wear, and some say becoming. There's no man as ever +lived known better than my Berry how to show his legs to advantage, +and gals look at 'em. I don't wonder now that Berry was prostrated. His +temptations was strong, and his flesh was weak. Then what I say is, that +for a young married man--be he whomsoever he may be--to be separated +from the wife of his bosom--a young sweet thing, and he an innocent +young gentleman!--so to sunder, in their state, and be kep' from each +other, I say it's as bad as bad can be! For what is matrimony, my +dears? We're told it's a holy Ordnance. And why are ye so comfortable in +matrimony? For that ye are not a sinnin'! And they that severs ye they +tempts ye to stray: and you learn too late the meanin' o' them blessin's +of the priest--as it was ordained. Separate--what comes? Fust it's like +the circulation of your blood a-stoppin'--all goes wrong. Then there's +misunderstandings--ye've both lost the key. Then, behold ye, there's +birds o' prey hoverin' over each on ye, and it's which'll be snapped up +fust. Then--Oh, dear! Oh, dear! it be like the devil come into the world +again." Mrs. Berry struck her hands and moaned. "A day I'll give ye: +I'll go so far as a week: but there's the outside. Three months dwellin' +apart! That's not matrimony, it's divorcin'! what can it be to her but +widowhood? widowhood with no cap to show for it! And what can it be to +you, my dear? Think! you been a bachelor three months! and a bachelor +man," Mrs. Berry shook her head most dolefully, "he ain't widow woman. +I don't go to compare you to Berry, my dear young gentleman. Some men's +hearts is vagabonds born--they must go astray--it's their natur' to. But +all men are men, and I know the foundation of 'em, by reason of my woe." + +Mrs. Berry paused. Richard was humorously respectful to the sermon. +The truth in the good creature's address was not to be disputed, or +despised, notwithstanding the inclination to laugh provoked by her +quaint way of putting it. Ripton nodded encouragingly at every sentence, +for he saw her drift, and wished to second it. + +Seeking for an illustration of her meaning, Mrs. Berry solemnly +continued: "We all know what checked prespiration is." But neither +of the young gentlemen could resist this. Out they burst in a roar of +laughter. + +"Laugh away," said Mrs. Berry. "I don't mind ye. I say again, we all +do know what checked prespiration is. It fly to the lungs, it gives ye +mortal inflammation, and it carries ye off. Then I say checked matrimony +is as bad. It fly to the heart, and it carries off the virtue that's +in ye, and you might as well be dead! Them that is joined it's their +salvation not to separate! It don't so much matter before it. That Mr. +Thompson there--if he go astray, it ain't from the blessed fold. He hurt +himself alone--not double, and belike treble, for who can say now what +may be? There's time for it. I'm for holding back young people so that +they knows their minds, howsomever they rattles about their hearts. I +ain't a speeder of matrimony, and good's my reason! but where it's been +done--where they're lawfully joined, and their bodies made one, I do +say this, that to put division between 'em then, it's to make wanderin' +comets of 'em--creatures without a objeck, and no soul can say what +they's good for but to rush about!" + +Mrs. Berry here took a heavy breath, as one who has said her utmost for +the time being. + +"My dear old girl," Richard went up to her and, applauding her on the +shoulder, "you're a very wise old woman. But you mustn't speak to me +as if I wanted to stop here. I'm compelled to. I do it for her good +chiefly." + +"It's your father that's doin' it, my dear?" + +"Well, I'm waiting his pleasure." + +"A pretty pleasure! puttin' a snake in the nest of young turtle-doves! +And why don't she come up to you?" + +"Well, that you must ask her. The fact is, she's a little timid +girl--she wants me to see him first, and when I've made all right, then +she'll come." + +"A little timid girl!" cried Mrs. Berry. "Oh, lor', how she must ha' +deceived ye to make ye think that! Look at that ring," she held out her +finger, "he's a stranger: he's not my lawful! You know what ye did to +me, my dear. Could I get my own wedding-ring back from her? 'No!' says +she, firm as a rock, 'he said, with this ring I thee wed'--I think I see +her now, with her pretty eyes and lovesome locks--a darlin'!--And that +ring she'd keep to, come life, came death. And she must ha' been a rock +for me to give in to her in that. For what's the consequence? Here am +I," Mrs. Berry smoothed down the back of her hand mournfully, "here am +I in a strange ring, that's like a strange man holdin' of me, and me +a-wearin' of it just to seem decent, and feelin' all over no better than +a b--a big--that nasty came I can't abide!--I tell you, my dear, she +ain't soft, no!--except to the man of her heart; and the best of women's +too soft there--mores our sorrow!" + +"Well, well!" said Richard, who thought he knew. + +"I agree with you, Mrs. Berry," Ripton struck in, "Mrs. Richard would do +anything in the world her husband asked her, I'm quite sure." + +"Bless you for your good opinion, Mr. Thompson! Why, see her! she ain't +frail on her feet; she looks ye straight in the eyes; she ain't one of +your hang-down misses. Look how she behaved at the ceremony!" + +"Ah!" sighed Ripton. + +"And if you'd ha' seen her when she spoke to me about my ring! Depend +upon it, my dear Mr. Richard, if she blinded you about the nerve she've +got, it was somethin' she thought she ought to do for your sake, and +I wish I'd been by to counsel her, poor blessed babe!--And how much +longer, now, can ye stay divided from that darlin'?" + +Richard paced up and down. + +"A father's will," urged Mrs. Berry, "that's a son's law; but he mustn't +go again' the laws of his nature to do it." + +"Just be quiet at present--talk of other things, there's a good woman," +said Richard. + +Mrs. Berry meekly folded her arms. + +"How strange, now, our meetin' like this! meetin' at all, too!" she +remarked contemplatively. "It's them advertisements! They brings people +together from the ends of the earth, for good or for bad. I often say, +there's more lucky accidents, or unlucky ones, since advertisements was +the rule, than ever there was before. They make a number of romances, +depend upon it! Do you walk much in the Gardens, my dear?" + +"Now and then," said Richard. + +"Very pleasant it is there with the fine folks and flowers and titled +people," continued Mrs. Berry. "That was a handsome woman you was +a-walkin' beside, this mornin'." + +"Very," said Richard. + +"She was a handsome woman! or I should say, is, for her day ain't past, +and she know it. I thought at first--by her back--it might ha' been your +aunt, Mrs. Forey; for she do step out well and hold up her shoulders: +straight as a dart she be! But when I come to see her face--Oh, dear +me! says I, this ain't one of the family. They none of 'em got such bold +faces--nor no lady as I know have. But she's a fine woman--that nobody +can gainsay." + +Mrs. Berry talked further of the fine woman. It was a liberty she took +to speak in this disrespectful tone of her, and Mrs. Berry was quite +aware that she was laying herself open to rebuke. She had her end +in view. No rebuke was uttered, and during her talk she observed +intercourse passing between the eyes of the young men. + +"Look here, Penelope," Richard stopped her at last. "Will it make you +comfortable if I tell you I'll obey the laws of my nature and go down at +the end of the week?" + +"I'll thank the Lord of heaven if you do!" she exclaimed. + +"Very well, then--be happy--I will. Now listen. I want you to keep your +rooms for me--those she had. I expect, in a day or two, to bring a lady +here"-- + +"A lady?" faltered Mrs. Berry. + +"Yes. A lady." + +"May I make so bold as to ask what lady?" + +"You may not. Not now. Of course you will know." + +Mrs. Berry's short neck made the best imitation it could of an offended +swan's action. She was very angry. She said she did not like so many +ladies, which natural objection Richard met by saying that there was +only one lady. + +"And Mrs. Berry," he added, dropping his voice. "You will treat her +as you did my dear girl, for she will require not only shelter but +kindness. I would rather leave her with you than with any one. She has +been very unfortunate." + +His serious air and habitual tone of command fascinated the softness +of Berry, and it was not until he had gone that she spoke out. +"Unfort'nate! He's going to bring me an unfort'nate female! Oh! not from +my babe can I bear that! Never will I have her here! I see it. It's +that bold-faced woman he's got mixed up in, and she've been and made the +young man think he'll go for to reform her. It's one o' their arts--that +is; and he's too innocent a young man to mean anythin' else. But I ain't +a house of Magdalens no! and sooner than have her here I'd have the roof +fall over me, I would." + +She sat down to eat her supper on the sublime resolve. + +In love, Mrs. Berry's charity was all on the side of the law, and this +is the case with many of her sisters. The Pilgrim sneers at them for it, +and would have us credit that it is their admirable instinct which, at +the expense of every virtue save one, preserves the artificial barrier +simply to impose upon us. Men, I presume, are hardly fair judges, and +should stand aside and mark. + +Early next day Mrs. Berry bundled off to Richard's hotel to let him +know her determination. She did not find him there. Returning homeward +through the park, she beheld him on horseback riding by the side of the +identical lady. + +The sight of this public exposure shocked her more than the secret walk +under the trees... "You don't look near your reform yet," Mrs. Berry +apostrophized her. "You don't look to me one that'd come the Fair +Penitent till you've left off bein' fair--if then you do, which some of +ye don't. Laugh away and show yet airs! Spite o' your hat and feather, +and your ridin' habit, you're a Belle Donna." Setting her down again +absolutely for such, whatever it might signify, Mrs. Berry had a +virtuous glow. + +In the evening she heard the noise of wheels stopping at the door. +"Never!" she rose from her chair to exclaim. "He ain't rided her out in +the mornin', and been and made a Magdalen of her afore dark?" + +A lady veiled was brought into the house by Richard. Mrs. Berry feebly +tried to bar his progress in the passage. He pushed past her, and +conducted the lady into the parlour without speaking. Mrs. Berry did not +follow. She heard him murmur a few sentences within. Then he came out. +All her crest stood up, as she whispered vigorously, "Mr. Richard! if +that woman stay here, I go forth. My house ain't a penitentiary for +unfort'nate females, sir"-- + +He frowned at her curiously; but as she was on the point of renewing her +indignant protest, he clapped his hand across her mouth, and spoke words +in her ear that had awful import to her. She trembled, breathing low: +"My God, forgive, me! + +"Richard?" And her virtue was humbled. "Lady Feverel is it? Your mother, +Mr. Richard?" And her virtue was humbled. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII + +One may suppose that a prematurely aged, oily little man; a poet in bad +circumstances; a decrepit butterfly chained to a disappointed inkstand, +will not put out strenuous energies to retain his ancient paramour when +a robust young man comes imperatively to demand his mother of him in her +person. The colloquy was short between Diaper Sandoe and Richard. The +question was referred to the poor spiritless lady, who, seeing that her +son made no question of it, cast herself on his hands. Small loss to +her was Diaper; but he was the loss of habit, and that is something to a +woman who has lived. The blood of her son had been running so long alien +from her that the sense of her motherhood smote he now with strangeness, +and Richard's stern gentleness seemed like dreadful justice come upon +her. Her heart had almost forgotten its maternal functions. She called +him Sir, till he bade her remember he was her son. Her voice sounded +to him like that of a broken-throated lamb, so painful and weak it was, +with the plaintive stop in the utterance. When he kissed her, her skin +was cold. Her thin hand fell out of his when his grasp related. "Can +sin hunt one like this?" he asked, bitterly reproaching himself for the +shame she had caused him to endure, and a deep compassion filled his +breast. + +Poetic justice had been dealt to Diaper the poet. He thought of all he +had sacrificed for this woman--the comfortable quarters, the friend, the +happy flights. He could not but accuse her of unfaithfulness in leaving +him in his old age. Habit had legalized his union with her. He wrote as +pathetically of the break of habit as men feel at the death of love, and +when we are old and have no fair hope tossing golden locks before us, a +wound to this our second nature is quite as sad. I know not even if it +be not actually sadder. + +Day by day Richard visited his mother. Lady Blandish and Ripton alone +were in the secret. Adrian let him do as he pleased. He thought proper +to tell him that the public recognition he accorded to a particular lady +was, in the present state of the world, scarcely prudent. + +"'Tis a proof to me of your moral rectitude, my son, but the world +will not think so. No one character is sufficient to cover two--in a +Protestant country especially. The divinity that doth hedge a Bishop +would have no chance, in contact with your Madam Danae. Drop the woman, +my son. Or permit me to speak what you would have her hear." + +Richard listened to him with disgust. "Well, you've had my doctorial +warning," said Adrian; and plunged back into his book. + +When Lady Feverel had revived to take part in the consultations Mrs. +Berry perpetually opened on the subject of Richard's matrimonial duty, +another chain was cast about him. "Do not, oh, do not offend your +father!" was her one repeated supplication. Sir Austin had grown to be a +vindictive phantom in her mind. She never wept but when she said this. + +So Mrs. Berry, to whom Richard had once made mention of Lady Blandish as +the only friend he had among women, bundled off in her black-satin +dress to obtain an interview with her, and an ally. After coming to an +understanding on the matter of the visit, and reiterating many of her +views concerning young married people, Mrs. Berry said: "My lady, if I +may speak so bold, I'd say the sin that's bein' done is the sin o' +the lookers-on. And when everybody appear frightened by that young +gentleman's father, I'll say--hopin' your pardon--they no cause be +frighted at all. For though it's nigh twenty year since I knew him, and +I knew him then just sixteen months--no more--I'll say his heart's as +soft as a woman's, which I've cause for to know. And that's it. That's +where everybody's deceived by him, and I was. It's because he keeps his +face, and makes ye think you're dealin' with a man of iron, and all the +while there's a woman underneath. And a man that's like a woman he's the +puzzle o' life! We can see through ourselves, my lady, and we can see +through men, but one o' that sort--he's like somethin' out of nature. +Then I say--hopin' be excused--what's to do is for to treat him like +a woman, and not for to let him have his own way--which he don't know +himself, and is why nobody else do. Let that sweet young couple come +together, and be wholesome in spite of him, I say; and then give him +time to come round, just like a woman; and round he'll come, and give +'em his blessin', and we shall know we've made him comfortable. He's +angry because matrimony have come between him and his son, and +he, woman-like, he's wantin' to treat what is as if it isn't. But +matrimony's a holier than him. It began long long before him, and it's +be hoped will endoor longs the time after, if the world's not coming to +rack--wishin' him no harm." + +Now Mrs. Berry only put Lady Blandish's thoughts in bad English. The +lady took upon herself seriously to advise Richard to send for his wife. +He wrote, bidding her come. Lucy, however, had wits, and inexperienced +wits are as a little knowledge. In pursuance of her sage plan to make +the family feel her worth, and to conquer the members of it one by one, +she had got up a correspondence with Adrian, whom it tickled. Adrian +constantly assured her all was going well: time would heal the wound if +both the offenders had the fortitude to be patient: he fancied he saw +signs of the baronet's relenting: they must do nothing to arrest those +favourable symptoms. Indeed the wise youth was languidly seeking to +produce them. He wrote, and felt, as Lucy's benefactor. So Lucy replied +to her husband a cheerful rigmarole he could make nothing of, save that +she was happy in hope, and still had fears. Then Mrs. Berry trained her +fist to indite a letter to her bride. Her bride answered it by saying +she trusted to time. "You poor marter" Mrs. Berry wrote back, "I know +what your sufferin's be. They is the only kind a wife should never hide +from her husband. He thinks all sorts of things if she can abide being +away. And you trusting to time, why it's like trusting not to catch cold +out of your natural clothes." There was no shaking Lucy's firmness. + +Richard gave it up. He began to think that the life lying behind him was +the life of a fool. What had he done in it? He had burnt a rick and got +married! He associated the two acts of his existence. Where was the hero +he was to have carved out of Tom Bakewell!--a wretch he had taught to +lie and chicane: and for what? Great heavens! how ignoble did a flash +from the light of his aspirations make his marriage appear! The young +man sought amusement. He allowed his aunt to drag him into society, and +sick of that he made late evening calls on Mrs. Mount, oblivious of the +purpose he had in visiting her at all. Her man-like conversation, which +he took for honesty, was a refreshing change on fair lips. + +"Call me Bella: I'll call you Dick," said she. And it came to be Bella +and Dick between them. No mention of Bella occurred in Richard's letters +to Lucy. + +Mrs. Mount spoke quite openly of herself. "I pretend to be no better +than I am," she said, "and I know I'm no worse than many a woman who +holds her head high." To back this she told him stories of blooming +dames of good repute, and poured a little social sewerage into his ears. + +Also she understood him. "What you want, my dear Dick, is something to +do. You went and got married like a--hum!--friends must be respectful. +Go into the Army. Try the turf. I can put you up to a trick or +two--friends should make themselves useful." + +She told him what she liked in him. "You're the only man I was ever +alone with who don't talk to me of love and make me feel sick. I hate +men who can't speak to a woman sensibly.--Just wait a minute." She +left him and presently returned with, "Ah, Dick! old fellow! how are +you?"--arrayed like a cavalier, one arm stuck in her side, her hat +jauntily cocked, and a pretty oath on her lips to give reality to the +costume. "What do you think of me? Wasn't it a shame to make a woman of +me when I was born to be a man?" + +"I don't know that," said Richard, for the contrast in her attire to +those shooting eyes and lips, aired her sex bewitchingly. + +"What! you think I don't do it well?" + +"Charming! but I can't forget..." + +"Now that is too bad!" she pouted. + +Then she proposed that they should go out into the midnight streets +arm-in-arm, and out they went and had great fits of laughter at her +impertinent manner of using her eyeglass, and outrageous affectation of +the supreme dandy. + +"They take up men, Dick, for going about in women's clothes, and vice +versaw, I suppose. You'll bail me, old fellaa, if I have to make my bow +to the beak, won't you? Say it's becas I'm an honest woman and don't +care to hide the--a--unmentionables when I wear them--as the t'others +do," sprinkled with the dandy's famous invocations. + +He began to conceive romance in that sort of fun. + +"You're a wopper, my brave Dick! won't let any peeler take me? by Jove!" + +And he with many assurances guaranteed to stand by her, while she bent +her thin fingers trying the muscle of his arm; and reposed upon it more. +There was delicacy in her dandyism. She was a graceful cavalier. + +"Sir Julius," as they named the dandy's attire, was frequently called +for on his evening visits to Mrs. Mount. When he beheld Sir Julius +he thought of the lady, and "vice versaw," as Sir Julius was fond of +exclaiming. + +Was ever hero in this fashion wooed? + +The woman now and then would peep through Sir Julius. Or she would sit, +and talk, and altogether forget she was impersonating that worthy fop. + +She never uttered an idea or a reflection, but Richard thought her the +cleverest woman he had ever met. + +All kinds of problematic notions beset him. She was cold as ice, she +hated talk about love, and she was branded by the world. + +A rumour spread that reached Mrs. Doria's ears. She rushed to Adrian +first. The wise youth believed there was nothing in it. She sailed down +upon Richard. "Is this true? that you have been seen going publicly +about with an infamous woman, Richard? Tell me! pray, relieve me!" + +Richard knew of no person answering to his aunt's description in whose +company he could have been seen. + +"Tell me, I say! Don't quibble. Do you know any woman of bad character?" + +The acquaintance of a lady very much misjudged and ill-used by the +world, Richard admitted to. + +Urgent grave advice Mrs. Doria tendered her nephew, both from the moral +and the worldly point of view, mentally ejaculating all the while: +"That ridiculous System! That disgraceful marriage!" Sir Austin in his +mountain solitude was furnished with serious stuff to brood over. + +The rumour came to Lady Blandish. She likewise lectured Richard, and +with her he condescended to argue. But he found himself obliged to +instance something he had quite neglected. "Instead of her doing me +harm, it's I that will do her good." + +Lady Blandish shook her head and held up her finger. "This person must +be very clever to have given you that delusion, dear." + +"She is clever. And the world treats her shamefully." + +"She complains of her position to you?" + +"Not a word. But I will stand by her. She has no friend but me." + +"My poor boy! has she made you think that?" + +"How unjust you all are!" cried Richard. + +"How mad and wicked is the man who can let him be tempted so!" thought +Lady Blandish. + +He would pronounce no promise not to visit her, not to address +her publicly. The world that condemned her and cast her out was no +better--worse for its miserable hypocrisy. He knew the world now, the +young man said. + +"My child! the world may be very bad. I am not going to defend it. But +you have some one else to think of. Have you forgotten you have a wife, +Richard?" + +"Ay! you all speak of her now. There's my aunt: 'Remember you have a +wife!' Do you think I love any one but Lucy? poor little thing! Because +I am married am I to give up the society of women?" + +"Of women!" + +"Isn't she a woman?" + +"Too much so!" sighed the defender of her sex. + +Adrian became more emphatic in his warnings. Richard laughed at him. +The wise youth sneered at Mrs. Mount. The hero then favoured him with a +warning equal to his own in emphasis, and surpassing it in sincerity. + +"We won't quarrel, my dear boy," said Adrian. "I'm a man of peace. +Besides, we are not fairly proportioned for a combat. Ride your steed +to virtue's goal! All I say is, that I think he'll upset you, and it's +better to go at a slow pace and in companionship with the children of +the sun. You have a very nice little woman for a wife--well, good-bye!" + +To have his wife and the world thrown at his face, was unendurable to +Richard; he associated them somewhat after the manner of the rick and +the marriage. Charming Sir Julius, always gay, always honest, dispersed +his black moods. + +"Why, you're taller," Richard made the discovery. + +"Of course I am. Don't you remember you said I was such a little thing +when I came out of my woman's shell?" + +"And how have you done it?" + +"Grown to please you." + +"Now, if you can do that, you can do anything." + +"And so I would do anything." + +"You would?" + +"Honour!" + +"Then"...his project recurred to him. But the incongruity of speaking +seriously to Sir Julius struck him dumb. + +"Then what?" asked she. + +"Then you're a gallant fellow." + +"That all?" + +"Isn't it enough?" + +"Not quite. You were going to say something. I saw it in your eyes." + +"You saw that I admired you." + +"Yes, but a man mustn't admire a man." + +"I suppose I had an idea you were a woman." + +"What! when I had the heels of my boots raised half an inch," Sir Julius +turned one heel, and volleyed out silver laughter. + +"I don't come much above your shoulder even now," she said, and +proceeded to measure her height beside him with arch up-glances. + +"You must grow more." + +"'Fraid I can't, Dick! Bootmakers can't do it." + +"I'll show you how," and he lifted Sir Julius lightly, and bore the fair +gentleman to the looking-glass, holding him there exactly on a level +with his head. "Will that do?" + +"Yes! Oh but I can't stay here." + +"Why can't you?" + +"Why can't I?" + +He should have known then--it was thundered at a closed door in him, +that he played with fire. But the door being closed, he thought himself +internally secure. + +Their eyes met. He put her down instantly. + +Sir Julius, charming as he was, lost his vogue. Seeing that, the wily +woman resumed her shell. The memory, of Sir Julius breathing about her +still, doubled the feminine attraction. + +"I ought to have been an actress," she said. + +Richard told her he found all natural women had a similar wish. + +"Yes! Ah! then! if I had been!" sighed Mrs. Mount, gazing on the pattern +of the carpet. + +He took her hand, and pressed it. + +"You are not happy as you are?" + +"No." + +"May I speak to you?" + +"Yes." + +Her nearest eye, setting a dimple of her cheek in motion, slid to +the corner toward her ear, as she sat with her head sideways to him, +listening. When he had gone, she said to herself: "Old hypocrites talk +in that way; but I never heard of a young man doing it, and not making +love at the same time." + +Their next meeting displayed her quieter: subdued as one who had been +set thinking. He lauded her fair looks. + +"Don't make me thrice ashamed," she petitioned. + +But it was not only that mood with her. Dauntless defiance, that +splendidly befitted her gallant outline and gave a wildness to her +bright bold eyes, when she would call out: "Happy? who dares say I'm not +happy? D'you think if the world whips me I'll wince? D'you think I care +for what they say or do? Let them kill me! they shall never get one cry +out of me!" and flashing on the young man as if he were the congregated +enemy, add: "There! now you know me!"--that was a mood that well became +her, and helped the work. She ought to have been an actress. + +"This must not go on," said Lady Blandish and Mrs. Doria in unison. A +common object brought them together. They confined their talk to it, +and did not disagree. Mrs. Doria engaged to go down to the baronet. +Both ladies knew it was a dangerous, likely to turn out a disastrous, +expedition. They agreed to it because it was something to do, and doing +anything is better than doing nothing. "Do it," said the wise youth, +when they made him a third, "do it, if you want him to be a hermit for +life. You will bring back nothing but his dead body, ladies--a Hellenic, +rather than a Roman, triumph. He will listen to you--he will accompany +you to the station--he will hand you into the carriage--and when you +point to his seat he will bow profoundly, and retire into his congenial +mists." + +Adrian spoke their thoughts. They fretted; they relapsed. + +"Speak to him, you, Adrian," said Mrs. Doria. "Speak to the boy +solemnly. It would be almost better he should go back to that little +thing he has married." + +"Almost?" Lady Blandish opened her eyes. "I have been advising it for +the last month and more." + +"A choice of evils," said Mrs. Doria's sour-sweet face and shake of the +head. + +Each lady saw a point of dissension, and mutually agreed, with heroic +effort, to avoid it by shutting their mouths. What was more, they +preserved the peace in spite of Adrian's artifices. + +"Well, I'll talk to him again," he said. "I'll try to get the Engine on +the conventional line." + +"Command him!" exclaimed Mrs. Doria. + +"Gentle means are, I think, the only means with Richard," said Lady +Blandish. + +Throwing banter aside, as much as he could, Adrian spoke to Richard. +"You want to reform this woman. Her manner is open--fair and free--the +traditional characteristic. We won't stop to canvass how that particular +honesty of deportment that wins your approbation has been gained. In +her college it is not uncommon. Girls, you know, are not like boys. At +a certain age they can't be quite natural. It's a bad sign if they don't +blush, and fib, and affect this and that. It wears off when they're +women. But a woman who speaks like a man, and has all those excellent +virtues you admire--where has she learned the trick? She tells you. You +don't surely approve of the school? Well, what is there in it, then? +Reform her, of course. The task is worthy of your energies. But, if you +are appointed to do it, don't do it publicly, and don't attempt it just +now. May I ask you whether your wife participates in this undertaking?" + +Richard walked away from the interrogation. The wise youth, who hated +long unrelieved speeches and had healed his conscience, said no more. + +Dear tender Lucy! Poor darling! Richard's eyes moistened. Her letters +seemed sadder latterly. Yet she never called to him to come, or he would +have gone. His heart leapt up to her. He announced to Adrian that he +should wait no longer for his father. Adrian placidly nodded. + +The enchantress observed that her knight had a clouded brow and an +absent voice. + +"Richard--I can't call you Dick now, I really don't know why"--she said, +"I want to beg a favour of you." + +"Name it. I can still call you Bella, I suppose?" + +"If you care to. What I want to say is this: when you meet me out--to +cut it short--please not to recognize me." + +"And why?" + +"Do you ask to be told that?" + +"Certainly I do." + +"Then look: I won't compromise you." + +"I see no harm, Bella." + +"No," she caressed his hand, "and there is none. I know that. But," +modest eyelids were drooped, "other people do," struggling eyes were +raised. + +"What do we care for other people?" + +"Nothing. I don't. Not that!" snapping her finger, "I care for you, +though." A prolonged look followed the declaration. + +"You're foolish, Bella." + +"Not quite so giddy--that's all." + +He did not combat it with his usual impetuosity. Adrian's abrupt inquiry +had sunk in his mind, as the wise youth intended it should. He had +instinctively refrained from speaking to Lucy of this lady. But what a +noble creature the woman was! + +So they met in the park; Mrs. Mount whipped past him; and secresy added +a new sense to their intimacy. + +Adrian was gratified at the result produced by his eloquence. + +Though this lady never expressed an idea, Richard was not mistaken in +her cleverness. She could make evenings pass gaily, and one was not the +fellow to the other. She could make you forget she was a woman, and +then bring the fact startlingly home to you. She could read men with one +quiver of her half-closed eye-lashes. She could catch the coming mood in +a man, and fit herself to it. What does a woman want with ideas, who can +do thus much? Keenness of perception, conformity, delicacy of handling, +these be all the qualities necessary to parasites. + +Love would have scared the youth: she banished it from her tongue. It +may also have been true that it sickened her. She played on his higher +nature. She understood spontaneously what would be most strange and +taking to him in a woman. Various as the Serpent of old Nile, she acted +fallen beauty, humorous indifference, reckless daring, arrogance in +ruin. And acting thus, what think you?--She did it so well because she +was growing half in earnest. + +"Richard! I am not what I was since I knew you. You will not give me up +quite?" + +"Never, Bella." + +"I am not so bad as I'm painted!" + +"You are only unfortunate." + +"Now that I know you I think so, and yet I am happier." + +She told him her history when this soft horizon of repentance seemed to +throw heaven's twilight across it. A woman's history, you know: certain +chapters expunged. It was dark enough to Richard. + +"Did you love the man?" he asked. "You say you love no one now." + +"Did I love him? He was a nobleman and I a tradesman's daughter. No. I +did not love him. I have lived to learn it. And now I should hate him, +if I did not despise him." + +"Can you be deceived in love?" said Richard, more to himself than to +her. + +"Yes. When we're young we can be very easily deceived. If there is such +a thing as love, we discover it after we have tossed about and roughed +it. Then we find the man, or the woman, that suits us:--and then it's +too late! we can't have him." + +"Singular!" murmured Richard, "she says just what my father said." + +He spoke aloud: "I could forgive you if you had loved him." + +"Don't be harsh, grave judge! How is a girl to distinguish?" + +"You had some affection for him? He was the first?" + +She chose to admit that. "Yes. And the first who talks of love to a girl +must be a fool if he doesn't blind her." + +"That makes what is called first love nonsense." + +"Isn't it?" + +He repelled the insinuation. "Because I know it is not, Bella." + +Nevertheless she had opened a wider view of the world to him, and a +colder. He thought poorly of girls. A woman a sensible, brave, +beautiful woman seemed, on comparison, infinitely nobler than those weak +creatures. + +She was best in her character of lovely rebel accusing foul injustice. +"What am I to do? You tell me to be different. How can I? What am I +to do? Will virtuous people let me earn my bread? I could not get a +housemaid's place! They wouldn't have me--I see their noses smelling! +Yes I can go to the hospital and sing behind a screen! Do you expect me +to bury myself alive? Why, man, I have blood: I can't become a stone. +You say I am honest, and I will be. Then let me till you that I have +been used to luxuries, and I can't do without them. I might have married +men--lots would have had me. But who marries one like me but a fool? and +I could not marry a fool. The man I marry I must respect. He could not +respect me--I should know him to be a fools and I should be worse off +than I am now. As I am now, they may look as pious as they like--I laugh +at them!" + +And so forth: direr things. Imputations upon wives: horrible exultation +at the universal peccancy of husbands. This lovely outcast almost made +him think she had the right on her side, so keenly her Parthian arrows +pierced the holy centres of society, and exposed its rottenness. + +Mrs. Mount's house was discreetly conducted: nothing ever occurred to +shock him there. The young man would ask himself where the difference +was between her and the Women of society? How base, too, was the army +of banded hypocrites! He was ready to declare war against them on her +behalf. His casus beli, accurately worded, would have read curiously. +Because the world refused to lure the lady to virtue with the offer of a +housemaid's place, our knight threw down his challenge. But the lady had +scornfully rebutted this prospect of a return to chastity. Then the form +of the challenge must be: Because the world declined to support the lady +in luxury for nothing! But what did that mean? In other words: she was +to receive the devil's wages without rendering him her services. Such +an arrangement appears hardly fair on the world or on the devil. Heroes +will have to conquer both before they will get them to subscribe to it. + +Heroes, however, are not in the habit of wording their declarations of +war at all. Lance in rest they challenge and they charge. Like women +they trust to instinct, and graft on it the muscle of men. Wide fly the +leisurely-remonstrating hosts: institutions are scattered, they know not +wherefore, heads are broken that have not the balm of a reason why. 'Tis +instinct strikes! Surely there is something divine in instinct. + +Still, war declared, where were these hosts? The hero could not charge +down on the ladies and gentlemen in a ballroom, and spoil the quadrille. +He had sufficient reticence to avoid sounding his challenge in the +Law Courts; nor could he well go into the Houses of Parliament with +a trumpet, though to come to a tussle with the nation's direct +representatives did seem the likelier method. It was likewise out of the +question that he should enter every house and shop, and battle with its +master in the cause of Mrs. Mount. Where, then, was his enemy? Everybody +was his enemy, and everybody was nowhere! Shall he convoke multitudes on +Wimbledon Common? Blue Policemen, and a distant dread of ridicule, bar +all his projects. Alas for the hero in our day! + +Nothing teaches a strong arm its impotence so much as knocking at empty +air. + +"What can I do for this poor woman?" cried Richard, after fighting his +phantom enemy till he was worn out. + +"O Rip! old Rip!" he addressed his friend, "I'm distracted. I wish I was +dead! What good am I for? Miserable! selfish! What have I done but make +every soul I know wretched about me? I follow my own inclinations--I +make people help me by lying as hard as they can--and I'm a liar. And +when I've got it I'm ashamed of myself. And now when I do see something +unselfish for me to do, I come upon grins--I don't know where to +turn--how to act--and I laugh at myself like a devil!" + +It was only friend Ripton's ear that was required, so his words went +for little: but Ripton did say he thought there was small matter to be +ashamed of in winning and wearing the Beauty of Earth. Richard added his +customary comment of "Poor little thing!" + +He fought his duello with empty air till he was exhausted. A last letter +written to his father procured him no reply. Then, said he, I have tried +my utmost. I have tried to be dutiful--my father won't listen to me. One +thing I can do--I can go down to my dear girl, and make her happy, and +save her at least from some of the consequences of my rashness. + +"There's nothing better for me!" he groaned. His great ambition must +be covered by a house-top: he and the cat must warm themselves on the +domestic hearth! The hero was not aware that his heart moved him to +this. His heart was not now in open communion with his mind. + +Mrs. Mount heard that her friend was going--would go. She knew he was +going to his wife. Far from discouraging him, she said nobly: "Go--I +believe I have kept you. Let us have an evening together, and then go: +for good, if you like. If not, then to meet again another time. Forget +me. I shan't forget you. You're the best fellow I ever knew, Richard. +You are, on my honour! I swear I would not step in between you and +your wife to cause either of you a moment's unhappiness. When I can be +another woman I will, and I shall think of you then." + +Lady Blandish heard from Adrian that Richard was positively going to his +wife. The wise youth modestly veiled his own merit in bringing it about +by saying: "I couldn't see that poor little woman left alone down there +any longer." + +"Well! Yes!" said Mrs. Doria, to whom the modest speech was repeated, "I +suppose, poor boy, it's the best he can do now." + +Richard bade them adieu, and went to spend his last evening with Mrs. +Mount. + +The enchantress received him in state. + +"Do you know this dress? No? It's the dress I wore when I first met +you--not when I first saw you. I think I remarked you, sir, before +you deigned to cast an eye upon humble me. When we first met we drank +champagne together, and I intend to celebrate our parting in the same +liquor. Will you liquor with me, old boy?" + +She was gay. She revived Sir Julius occasionally. He, dispirited, left +the talking all to her. + +Mrs. Mount kept a footman. At a late hour the man of calves dressed the +table for supper. It was a point of honour for Richard to sit down to it +and try to eat. Drinking, thanks to the kindly mother nature, who loves +to see her children made fools of, is always an easier matter. +The footman was diligent; the champagne corks feebly recalled the +file-firing at Richmond. + +"We'll drink to what we might have been, Dick," said the enchantress. + +Oh, the glorious wreck she looked. + +His heart choked as he gulped the buzzing wine. + +"What! down, my boy?" she cried. "They shall never see me hoist signals +of distress. We must all die, and the secret of the thing is to die +game, by Jove! Did you ever hear of Laura Fern? a superb girl! handsomer +than your humble servant--if you'll believe it--a 'Miss' in the bargain, +and as a consequence, I suppose, a much greater rake. She was in the +hunting-field. Her horse threw her, and she fell plump on a stake. It +went into her left breast. All the fellows crowded round her, and one +young man, who was in love with her--he sits in the House of Peers +now--we used to call him `Duck' because he was such a dear--he dropped +from his horse to his knees: 'Laura! Laura! my darling! speak a word to +me!--the last!' She turned over all white and bloody! 'I--I shan't be in +at the death!' and gave up the ghost! Wasn't that dying game? Here's to +the example of Laura Fenn! Why, what's the matter? See! it makes a man +turn pale to hear how a woman can die. Fill the glasses, John. Why, +you're as bad!" + +"It's give me a turn, my lady," pleaded John, and the man's hand was +unsteady as he poured out the wine. + +"You ought not to listen. Go, and, drink some brandy." + +John footman went from the room. + +"My brave Dick! Richard! what a face you've got!" + +He showed a deep frown on a colourless face. + +"Can't you bear to hear of blood? You know, it was only one naughty +woman out of the world. The clergyman of the parish didn't refuse to +give her decent burial. We Christians! Hurrah!" + +She cheered, and laughed. A lurid splendour glanced about her like +lights from the pit. + +"Pledge me, Dick! Drink, and recover yourself. Who minds? We must all +die--the good and the bad. Ashes to ashes--dust to dust--and wine for +living lips! That's poetry--almost. Sentiment: `May we never say die +till we've drunk our fill! Not bad--eh? A little vulgar, perhaps, by +Jove! Do you think me horrid?" + +"Where's the wine?" Richard shouted. He drank a couple of glasses in +succession, and stared about. Was he in hell, with a lost soul raving to +him? + +"Nobly spoken! and nobly acted upon, my brave Dick! Now we'll be +companions." She wished that heaven had made her such a man. "Ah! Dick! +Dick! too late! too late!" + +Softly fell her voice. Her eyes threw slanting beams. + +"Do you see this?" + +She pointed to a symbolic golden anchor studded with gems and coiled +with a rope of hair in her bosom. It was a gift of his. + +"Do you know when I stole the lock? Foolish Dick! you gave me an anchor +without a rope. Come and see." + +She rose from the table, and threw herself on the sofa. + +"Don't you recognize your own hair! I should know a thread of mine among +a million." + +Something of the strength of Samson went out of him as he inspected his +hair on the bosom of Delilah. + +"And you knew nothing of it! You hardly know it now you see it! What +couldn't a woman steal from you? But you're not vain, and that's a +protection. You're a miracle, Dick: a man that's not vain! Sit here." +She curled up her feet to give him place on the sofa. "Now let us talk +like friends that part to meet no more. You found a ship with fever on +board, and you weren't afraid to come alongside and keep her company. +The fever isn't catching, you see. Let us mingle our tears together. Ha! +ha! a man said that once to me. The hypocrite wanted to catch the fever, +but he was too old. How old are you, Dick?" + +Richard pushed a few months forward. + +"Twenty-one? You just look it, you blooming boy. Now tell me my age, +Adonis!--Twenty--what?" + +Richard had given the lady twenty-five years. + +She laughed violently. "You don't pay compliments, Dick. Best to be +honest; guess again. You don't like to? Not twenty-five, or twenty-four, +or twenty-three, or see how he begins to stare!---twenty-two. Just +twenty-one, my dear. I think my birthday's somewhere in next month. Why, +look at me, close--closer. Have I a wrinkle?" + +"And when, in heaven's name!"...he stopped short. + +"I understand you. When did I commence for to live? At the ripe age of +sixteen I saw a nobleman in despair because of my beauty. He vowed +he'd die. I didn't want him to do that. So to save the poor man for his +family, I ran away with him, and I dare say they didn't appreciate the +sacrifice, and he soon forgot to, if he ever did. It's the way of the +world!" + +Richard seized some dead champagne, emptied the bottle into a tumbler, +and drank it off. + +John footman entered to clear the table, and they were left without +further interruption. + +"Bella! Bella!" Richard uttered in a deep sad voice, as he walked the +room. + +She leaned on her arm, her hair crushed against a reddened cheek, her +eyes half-shut and dreamy. + +"Bella!" he dropped beside her. "You are unhappy." + +She blinked and yawned, as one who is awakened suddenly. "I think you +spoke," said she. + +"You are unhappy, Bella. You can't conceal it. Your laugh sounds like +madness. You must be unhappy. So young, too! Only twenty-one!" + +"What does it matter? Who cares for me?" + +The mighty pity falling from his eyes took in her whole shape. She did +not mistake it for tenderness, as another would have done. + +"Who cares for you, Bella? I do. What makes my misery now, but to see +you there, and know of no way of helping you? Father of mercy! it seems +too much to have to stand by powerless while such ruin is going on!" + +Her hand was shaken in his by the passion of torment with which his +frame quaked. + +Involuntarily a tear started between her eyelids. She glanced up at +him quickly, then looked down, drew her hand from his, and smoothed it, +eying it. + +"Bella! you have a father alive!" + +"A linendraper, dear. He wears a white neck-cloth." + +This article of apparel instantaneously changed the tone of the +conversation, for he, rising abruptly, nearly squashed the lady's +lap-dog, whose squeaks and howls were piteous, and demanded the most +fervent caresses of its mistress. It was: "Oh, my poor pet Mumpsy, +and he didn't like a nasty great big ugly heavy foot an his poor +soft silky--mum--mum--back, he didn't, and he soodn't that +he--mum--mum--soodn't; and he cried out and knew the place to come to, +and was oh so sorry for what had happened to him--mum--mum--mum--and +now he was going to be made happy, his mistress make him +happy--mum--mum--mum--moo-o-o-o." + +"Yes!" said Richard, savagely, from the other end of the room, "you care +for the happiness of your dog." + +"A course se does," Mumpsy was simperingly assured in the thick of his +silky flanks. + +Richard looked for his hat. Mumpsy was deposited on the sofa in a +twinkling. + +"Now," said the lady, "you must come and beg Mumpsy's pardon, whether +you meant to do it or no, because little doggies can't tell that--how +should they? And there's poor Mumpsy thinking you're a great terrible +rival that tries to squash him all flat to nothing, on purpose, +pretending you didn't see; and he's trembling, poor dear wee pet! And +I may love my dog, sir, if I like; and I do; and I won't have him +ill-treated, for he's never been jealous of you, and he is a darling, +ten times truer than men, and I love him fifty times better. So come to +him with me." + +First a smile changed Richard's face; then laughing a melancholy laugh, +he surrendered to her humour, and went through the form of begging +Mumpsy's pardon. + +"The dear dog! I do believe he saw we were getting dull," said she. + +"And immolated himself intentionally? Noble animal!" + +"Well, we'll act as if we thought so. Let us be gay, Richard, and not +part like ancient fogies. Where's your fun? You can rattle; why don't +you? You haven't seen me in one of my characters--not Sir Julius: wait a +couple of minutes." She ran out. + +A white visage reappeared behind a spring of flame. Her black hair was +scattered over her shoulders and fell half across her brows. She moved +slowly, and came up to him, fastening weird eyes on him, pointing a +finger at the region of witches. Sepulchral cadences accompanied the +representation. He did not listen, for he was thinking what a deadly +charming and exquisitely horrid witch she was. Something in the way her +underlids worked seemed to remind him of a forgotten picture; but a veil +hung on the picture. There could be no analogy, for this was beautiful +and devilish, and that, if he remembered rightly, had the beauty of +seraphs. + +His reflections and her performance were stayed by a shriek. The spirits +of wine had run over the plate she held to the floor. She had the +coolness to put the plate down on the table, while he stamped out the +flame on the carpet. Again she shrieked: she thought she was on fire. +He fell on his knees and clasped her skirts all round, drawing his arms +down them several times. + +Still kneeling, he looked up, and asked, "Do you feel safe now?" + +She bent her face glaring down till the ends of her hair touched his +cheek. + +Said she, "Do you?" + +Was she a witch verily? There was sorcery in her breath; sorcery in her +hair: the ends of it stung him like little snakes. + +"How do I do it, Dick?" she flung back, laughing. + +"Like you do everything, Bella," he said, and took breath. + +"There! I won't be a witch; I won't be a witch: they may burn me to a +cinder, but I won't be a witch!" + +She sang, throwing her hair about, and stamping her feet. + +"I suppose I look a figure. I must go and tidy myself." + +"No, don't change. I like to see you so." He gazed at her with a mixture +of wonder and admiration. "I can't think you the same person--not even +when you laugh." + +"Richard," her tone was serious, "you were going to speak to me of my +parents." + +"How wild and awful you looked, Bella!" + +"My father, Richard, was a very respectable man." + +"Bella, you'll haunt me like a ghost." + +"My mother died in my infancy, Richard." + +"Don't put up your hair, Bella." + +"I was an only child!" + +Her head shook sorrowfully at the glistening fire-irons. He followed the +abstracted intentness of her look, and came upon her words. + +"Ah, yes! speak of your father, Bella. Speak of him." + +"Shall I haunt you, and come to your bedside, and cry, '`Tis time'?" + +"Dear Bella! if you will tell me where he lives, I will go to him. He +shall receive you. He shall not refuse--he shall forgive you." + +"If I haunt you, you can't forget me, Richard." + +"Let me go to your father, Bella let me go to him to-morrow. I'll give +you my time. It's all I can give. O Bella! let me save you." + +"So you like me best dishevelled, do you, you naughty boy! Ha! ha!" and +away she burst from him, and up flew her hair, as she danced across the +room, and fell at full length on the sofa. + +He felt giddy: bewitched. + +"We'll talk of everyday things, Dick," she called to him from the sofa. +"It's our last evening. Our last? Heigho! It makes me sentimental. How's +that Mr. Ripson, Pipson, Nipson?--it's not complimentary, but I can't +remember names of that sort. Why do you have friends of that sort? He's +not a gentleman. Better is he? Well, he's rather too insignificant for +me. Why do you sit off there? Come to me instantly. There--I'll sit up, +and be proper, and you'll have plenty of room. Talk, Dick!" + +He was reflecting on the fact that her eyes were brown. They had a +haughty sparkle when she pleased, and when she pleased a soft languor +circled them. Excitement had dyed her cheeks deep red. He was a youth, +and she an enchantress. He a hero; she a female will-o'-the-wisp. + +The eyes were languid now, set in rosy colour. + +"You will not leave me yet, Richard? not yet?" + +He had no thought of departing: + +"It's our last night--I suppose it's our last hour together in this +world--and I don't want to meet you in the next, for poor Dick will have +to come to such a very, very disagreeable place to make the visit." + +He grasped her hand at this. + +"Yes, he will! too true! can't be helped: they say I'm handsome." + +"You're lovely, Bella." + +She drank in his homage. + +"Well, we'll admit it. His Highness below likes lovely women, I hear +say. A gentleman of taste! You don't know all my accomplishments yet, +Richard." + +"I shan't be astonished at anything new, Bella." + +"Then hear, and wonder." Her voice trolled out some lively roulades. +"Don't you think he'll make me his prima donna below? It's nonsense to +tell me there's no singing there. And the atmosphere will be favourable +to the voice. No damp, you know. You saw the piano--why didn't you ask +me to sing before? I can sing Italian. I had a master--who made love +to me. I forgave him because of the music-stool--men can't help it on a +music-stool, poor dears!" + +She went to the piano, struck the notes, and sang-- + + "'My heart, my heart--I think 'twill break.' + +"Because I'm such a rake. I don't know any other reason. No; I hate +sentimental songs. Won't sing that. Ta-tiddy-tiddy-iddy--a...e! How +ridiculous those women were, coming home from Richmond! + + 'Once the sweet romance of story + Clad thy moving form with grace; + Once the world and all its glory + Was but framework to thy face. + Ah, too fair!--what I remember + Might my soul recall--but no! + To the winds this wretched ember + Of a fire that falls so low!' + +"Hum! don't much like that. Tum-te-tum-tum--accanto al fuoco--heigho! I +don't want to show off, Dick--or to break down--so I won't try that. + + 'Oh! but for thee, oh! but for thee, + I might have been a happy wife, + And nursed a baby on my knee, + And never blushed to give it life.' + +"I used to sing that when I was a girl, sweet Richard, and didn't +know at all, at all, what it meant. Mustn't sing that sort of song in +company. We're oh! so proper--even we! + + 'If I had a husband, what think you I'd do? + I'd make it my business to keep him a lover; + For when a young gentleman ceases to woo, + Some other amusement he'll quickly discover.' + +"For such are young gentlemen made of--made of: such are young gentlemen +made of!" + +After this trifling she sang a Spanish ballad sweetly. He was in the +mood when imagination intensely vivifies everything. Mere suggestions of +music sufficed. The lady in the ballad had been wronged. Lo! it was +the lady before him; and soft horns blew; he smelt the languid +night-flowers; he saw the stars crowd large and close above the +arid plain this lady leaning at her window desolate, pouring out her +abandoned heart. + +Heroes know little what they owe to champagne. + +The lady wandered to Venice. Thither he followed her at a leap. In +Venice she was not happy. He was prepared for the misery of any woman +anywhere. But, oh! to be with her! To glide with phantom-motion through +throbbing street; past houses muffled in shadow and gloomy legends; +under storied bridges; past palaces charged with full life in dead +quietness; past grand old towers, colossal squares, gleaming quays, and +out, and on with her, on into the silver infinity shaking over seas! + +Was it the champagne? the music? or the poetry? Something of the two +former, perhaps: but most the enchantress playing upon him. How many +instruments cannot clever women play upon at the same moment! And this +enchantress was not too clever, or he might have felt her touch. She +was no longer absolutely bent on winning him, or he might have seen a +manoeuvre. She liked him--liked none better. She wished him well. Her +pique was satisfied. Still he was handsome, and he was going. What she +liked him for, she rather--very slightly--wished to do away with, or +see if it could be done away with: just as one wishes to catch a pretty +butterfly, without hurting its patterned wings. No harm intended to the +innocent insect, only one wants to inspect it thoroughly, and enjoy +the marvel of it, in one's tender possession, and have the felicity of +thinking one could crush it, if one would. + +He knew her what she was, this lady. In Seville, or in Venice, the spot +was on her. Sailing the pathways of the moon it was not celestial light +that illumined her beauty. Her sin was there: but in dreaming to save, +he was soft to her sin--drowned it in deep mournfulness. + +Silence, and the rustle of her dress, awoke him from his musing. She +swam wave-like to the sofa. She was at his feet. + +"I have been light and careless to-night, Richard. Of course I meant it. +I must be happy with my best friend going to leave me." + +Those witch underlids were working brightly. + +"You will not forget me? and I shall try...try..." + +Her lips twitched. She thought him such a very handsome fellow. + +"If I change--if I can change... Oh! if you could know what a net I'm +in, Richard!" + +Now at those words, as he looked down on her haggard loveliness, not +divine sorrow but a devouring jealousy sprang like fire in his breast, +and set him rocking with horrid pain. He bent closer to her pale +beseeching face. Her eyes still drew him down. + +"Bella! No! no! promise me! swear it!" + +"Lost, Richard! lost for ever! give me up!" + +He cried: "I never will!" and strained her in his arms, and kissed her +passionately on the lips. + +She was not acting now as she sidled and slunk her half-averted head +with a kind of maiden shame under his arm, sighing heavily, weeping, +clinging to him. It was wicked truth. + +Not a word of love between them! + +Was ever hero in this fashion won? + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX + +At a season when the pleasant South-western Island has few attractions +to other than invalids and hermits enamoured of wind and rain, the +potent nobleman, Lord Mountfalcon, still lingered there to the disgust +of his friends and special parasite. "Mount's in for it again," they +said among themselves. "Hang the women!" was a natural sequence. For, +don't you see, what a shame it was of the women to be always kindling +such a very inflammable subject! All understood that Cupid had twanged +his bow, and transfixed a peer of Britain for the fiftieth time: but +none would perceive, though he vouched for it with his most eloquent +oaths, that this was a totally different case from the antecedent ones. +So it had been sworn to them too frequently before. He was as a man +with mighty tidings, and no language: intensely communicative, but +inarticulate. Good round oaths had formerly compassed and expounded +his noble emotions. They were now quite beyond the comprehension of +blasphemy, even when emphasized, and by this the poor lord divinely felt +the case was different. There is something impressive in a great human +hulk writhing under the unutterable torments of a mastery he cannot +contend with, or account for, or explain by means of intelligible words. +At first he took refuge in the depths of his contempt for women. Cupid +gave him line. When he had come to vent his worst of them, the fair face +now stamped on his brain beamed the more triumphantly: so the harpooned +whale rose to the surface, and after a few convulsions, surrendered +his huge length. My lord was in love with Richard's young wife. He gave +proofs of it by burying himself beside her. To her, could she have seen +it, he gave further proofs of a real devotion, in affecting, and in her +presence feeling, nothing beyond a lively interest in her well-being. +This wonder, that when near her he should be cool and composed, and +when away from her wrapped in a tempest of desires, was matter for what +powers of cogitation the heavy nobleman possessed. + +The Hon. Peter, tired of his journeys to and fro, urged him to press +the business. Lord Mountfalcon was wiser, or more scrupulous, than his +parasite. Almost every evening he saw Lucy. The inexperienced little +wife apprehended no harm in his visits. Moreover, Richard had commended +her to the care of Lord Mountfalcon, and Lady Judith. Lady Judith had +left the Island for London: Lord Mountfalcon remained. There could be no +harm. If she had ever thought so, she no longer did. Secretly, perhaps, +she was flattered. Lord Mountfalcon was as well educated as it is +the fortune of the run of titled elder sons to be: he could talk and +instruct: he was a lord: and he let her understand that he was wicked, +very wicked, and that she improved him. The heroine, in common with the +hero, has her ambition to be of use in the world--to do some good: and +the task of reclaiming a bad man is extremely seductive to good women. +Dear to their tender bosoms as old china is a bad man they are mending! +Lord Mountfalcon had none of the arts of a libertine: his gold, his +title, and his person had hitherto preserved him from having long to +sigh in vain, or sigh at all, possibly: the Hon. Peter did his villanies +for him. No alarm was given to Lucy's pure instinct, as might have been +the case had my lord been over-adept. It was nice in her martyrdom to +have a true friend to support her, and really to be able to do something +for that friend. Too simple-minded to think much of his lordship's +position, she was yet a woman. "He, a great nobleman, does not scorn +to acknowledge me, and think something of me," may have been one of +the half-thoughts passing through her now and then, as she reflected in +self-defence on the proud family she had married into. + +January was watering and freezing old earth by turns, when the Hon. +Peter travelled down to the sun of his purse with great news. He had +no sooner broached his lordship's immediate weakness, than Mountfalcon +began to plunge like a heavy dragoon in difficulties. He swore by this +and that he had come across an angel for his sins, and would do her no +hurt. The next moment he swore she must be his, though she cursed like +a cat. His lordship's illustrations were not choice. "I haven't advanced +an inch," he groaned. "Brayder! upon my soul, that little woman could do +anything with me. By heaven! I'd marry her to-morrow. Here I am, seeing +her every day in the week out or in, and what do you think she gets me +to talk about?--history! Isn't it enough to make a fellow mad? and there +am I lecturing like a prig, and by heaven! while I'm at it I feel a +pleasure in it; and when I leave the house I should feel an immense +gratification in shooting somebody. What do they say in town?" + +"Not much," said Brayder, significantly. + +"When's that fellow--her husband--coming down?" + +"I rather hope we've settled him for life, Mount." + +Nobleman and parasite exchanged looks. + +"How d'ye mean?" + +Brayder hummed an air, and broke it to say, "He's in for Don Juan at a +gallop, that's all." + +"The deuce! Has Bella got him?" Mountfalcon asked with eagerness. + +Brayder handed my lord a letter. It was dated from the Sussex coast, +signed "Richard," and was worded thus: + +"My beautiful Devil--! + +"Since we're both devils together, and have found each other out, come +to me at once, or I shall be going somewhere in a hurry. Come, my bright +hell-star! I ran away from you, and now I ask you to come to me! You +have taught me how devils love, and I can't do without you. Come an hour +after you receive this." + +Mountfalcon turned over the letter to see if there was any more. +"Complimentary love-epistle!" he remarked, and rising from his chair and +striding about, muttered, "The dog! how infamously he treats his wife!" + +"Very bad," said Brayder. + +"How did you get hold of this?" + +"Strolled into Belle's dressing-room, waiting for her turned over her +pincushion hap-hazard. You know her trick." + +"By Jove! I think that girl does it on purpose. Thank heaven, I haven't +written her any letters for an age. Is she going to him?" + +"Not she! But it's odd, Mount!--did you ever know her refuse money +before? She tore up the cheque in style, and presented me the fragments +with two or three of the delicacies of language she learnt at your +Academy. I rather like to hear a woman swear. It embellishes her!" + +Mountfalcon took counsel of his parasite as to the end the letter could +be made to serve. Both conscientiously agreed that Richard's behaviour +to his wife was infamous, and that he at least deserved no mercy. "But," +said his lordship, "it won't do to show the letter. At first she'll be +swearing it's false, and then she'll stick to him closer. I know the +sluts." + +"The rule of contrary," said Brayder, carelessly. "She must see the +trahison with her eyes. They believe their eyes. There's your chance, +Mount. You step in: you give her revenge and consolation--two birds at +one shot. That's what they like." + +"You're an ass, Brayder," the nobleman exclaimed. "You're an infernal +blackguard. You talk of this little woman as if she and other women were +all of a piece. I don't see anything I gain by this confounded letter. +Her husband's a brute--that's clear." + +"Will you leave it to me, Mount?" + +"Be damned before I do!" muttered my lord. + +"Thank you. Now see how this will end: You're too soft, Mount. You'll be +made a fool of." + +"I tell you, Brayder, there's nothing to be done. If I carry her +off--I've been on the point of doing it every day--what'll come of that? +She'll look--I can't stand her eyes--I shall be a fool--worse off with +her than I am now." + +Mountfalcon yawned despondently. "And what do you think?" he pursued. +"Isn't it enough to make a fellow gnash his teeth? She's"...he mentioned +something in an underbreath, and turned red as he said it. + +"Hm!" Brayder put up his mouth and rapped the handle of his cane on his +chin. "That's disagreeable, Mount. You don't exactly want to act in that +character. You haven't got a diploma. Bother!" + +"Do you think I love her a bit less?" broke out my lord in a frenzy. "By +heaven! I'd read to her by her bedside, and talk that infernal history +to her, if it pleased her, all day and all night." + +"You're evidently graduating for a midwife, Mount." + +The nobleman appeared silently to accept the imputation. + +"What do they say in town?" he asked again. + +Brayder said the sole question was, whether it was maid, wife, or widow. + +"I'll go to her this evening," Mountfalcon resumed, after--to judge by +the cast of his face--reflecting deeply. "I'll go to her this evening. +She shall know what infernal torment she makes me suffer." + +"Do you mean to say she don't know it?" + +"Hasn't an idea--thinks me a friend. And so, by heaven! I'll be to her." + +"A--hm!" went the Honourable Peter. "This way to the sign of the Green +Man, ladies!" + +"Do you want to be pitched out of the window, Brayder?" + +"Once was enough, Mount. The Salvage Man is strong. I may have forgotten +the trick of alighting on my feet. There--there! I'll be sworn she's +excessively innocent, and thinks you a disinterested friend." + +"I'll go to her this evening," Mountfalcon repeated. "She shall know +what damned misery it is to see her in such a position. I can't hold out +any longer. Deceit's horrible to such a girl as that. I'd rather have +her cursing me than speaking and looking as she does. Dear little +girl!--she's only a child. You haven't an idea how sensible that little +woman is." + +"Have you?" inquired the cunning one. + +"My belief is, Brayder, that there are angels among women," said +Mountfalcon, evading his parasite's eye as he spoke. + +To the world, Lord Mountfalcon was the thoroughly wicked man; his +parasite simply ingeniously dissipated. Full many a man of God had +thought it the easier task to reclaim the Hon. Peter. + +Lucy received her noble friend by firelight that evening, and sat much +in the shade. She offered to have the candles brought in. He begged her +to allow the room to remain as it was. "I have something to say to you," +he observed with a certain solemnity. + +"Yes--to me?" said Lucy, quickly. + +Lord Mountfalcon knew he had a great deal to say, but how to say it, and +what it exactly was, he did not know.' + +"You conceal it admirably," he began, "but you must be very lonely +here--I fear, unhappy." + +"I should have been lonely, but for your kindness, my lord," said Lucy. +"I am not unhappy." Her face was in shade and could not belie her. + +"Is there any help that one who would really be your friend might give +you, Mrs. Feverel?" + +"None indeed that I know of," Lucy replied. "Who can help us to pay for +our sins?" + +"At least you may permit me to endeavour to pay my debts, since you have +helped me to wash out some of any sins." + +"Ah, my lord!" said Lucy, not displeased. It is sweet for a woman to +believe she has drawn the serpent's teeth. + +"I tell you the truth," Lord Mountfalcon went on. "What object could +I have in deceiving you? I know you quite above flattery--so different +from other women!" + +"Oh, pray, do not say that," interposed Lucy. + +"According to my experience, then." + +"But you say you have met such--such very bad women." + +"I have. And now that I meet a good one, it is my misfortune." + +"Your misfortune, Lord Mountfalcon?" + +"Yes, and I might say more." + +His lordship held impressively mute. + +"How strange men are!" thought Lucy. "He had some unhappy secret." + +Tom Bakewell, who had a habit of coming into the room on various +pretences during the nobleman's visits, put a stop to the revelation, if +his lordship intended to make any. + +When they were alone again, Lucy said, smiling: "Do you know, I am +always ashamed to ask you to begin to read." + +Mountfalcon stared. "To read?--oh! ha! yes!" he remembered his evening +duties. "Very happy, I'm sure. Let me see. Where were we?" + +"The life of the Emperor Julian. But indeed I feel quite ashamed to ask +you to read, my lord. It's new to me; like a new world--hearing about +Emperors, and armies, and things that really have been on the earth we +walk upon. It fills my mind. But it must have ceased to interest you, +and I was thinking that I would not tease you any more." + +"Your pleasure is mine, Mrs. Feverel. 'Pon my honour, I'd read till I +was hoarse, to hear your remarks." + +"Are you laughing at me?" + +"Do I look so?" + +Lord Mountfalcon had fine full eyes, and by merely dropping the lids he +could appear to endow them with mental expression. + +"No, you are not," said Lucy. "I must thank you for your forbearance." + +The nobleman went on his honour loudly. + +Now it was an object of Lucy's to have him reading; for his sake, for +her sake, and for somebody else's sake; which somebody else was probably +considered first in the matter. When he was reading to her, he seemed +to be legitimizing his presence there; and though she had no doubts +or suspicions whatever, she was easier in her heart while she had him +employed in that office. So she rose to fetch the book, laid it open +on the table at his lordship's elbow, and quietly waited to ring for +candles when he should be willing to commence. + +That evening Lord Mountfalcon could not get himself up to the farce, and +he felt a pity for the strangely innocent unprotected child with +anguish hanging over her, that withheld the words he wanted to speak, or +insinuate. He sat silent and did nothing. + +"What I do not like him for," said Lucy, meditatively, "is his changing +his religion. He would have been such a hero, but for that. I could have +loved him." + +"Who is it you could have loved, Mrs. Feverel?" Lord Mountfalcon asked. + +"The Emperor Julian." + +"Oh! the Emperor Julian! Well, he was an apostate but then, you know, he +meant what he was about. He didn't even do it for a woman." + +"For a woman!" cried Lucy. "What man would for a woman?" + +"I would." + +"You, Lord Mountfalcon?" + +"Yes. I'd turn Catholic to-morrow." + +"You make me very unhappy if you say that, my lord." + +"Then I'll unsay it." + +Lucy slightly shuddered. She put her hand upon the bell to ring for +lights. + +"Do you reject a convert, Mrs. Feverel?" said the nobleman. + +"Oh yes! yes! I do. One who does not give his conscience I would not +have." + +"If he gives his heart and body, can he give more?" + +Lucy's hand pressed the bell. She did not like the doubtful light with +one who was so unscrupulous. Lord Mountfalcon had never spoken in this +way before. He spoke better, too. She missed the aristocratic twang in +his voice, and the hesitation for words, and the fluid lordliness with +which he rolled over difficulties in speech. + +Simultaneously with the sounding of the bell the door opened, and +presented Tom Bakewell. There was a double knock at the same instant at +the street door. Lucy delayed to give orders. + +"Can it be a letter, Tom!--so late?" she said, changing colour. "Pray +run and see." + +"That an't powst" Tom remarked, as he obeyed his mistress. + +"Are you very anxious for a letter, Mrs. Feverel?" Lord Mountfalcon +inquired. + +"Oh, no!--yes, I am, very," said Lucy. Her quick ear caught the tones +of a voice she remembered. "That dear old thing has come to see me," she +cried, starting up. + +Tom ushered a bunch of black satin into the room. + +"Mrs. Berry!" said Lucy, running up to her and kissing her. + +"Me, my darlin'!" Mrs. Berry, breathless and rosy with her journey, +returned the salute. "Me truly it is, in fault of a better, for I ain't +one to stand by and give the devil his licence--roamin'! and the salt +sure enough have spilte my bride-gown at the beginnin', which ain't the +best sign. Bless ye!--Oh, here he is." She beheld a male figure in a +chair by the half light, and swung around to address him. "You bad man!" +she held aloft one of her fat fingers, "I've come on ye like a bolt, +I have, and goin' to make ye do your duty, naughty boy! But your my +darlin' babe," she melted, as was her custom, "and I'll never meet you +and not give to ye the kiss of a mother." + +Before Lord Mountfalcon could find time to expostulate the soft woman +had him by the neck, and was down among his luxurious whiskers. + +"Ha!" She gave a smothered shriek, and fell back. "What hair's that?" + +Tom Bakewell just then illumined the transaction. + +"Oh, my gracious!" Mrs. Berry breathed with horror, "I been and kiss a +strange man!" + +Lucy, half-laughing, but in dreadful concern, begged the noble lord to +excuse the woful mistake. + +"Extremely flattered, highly favoured, I'm sure;" said his lordship, +re-arranging his disconcerted moustache; "may I beg the pleasure of an +introduction?" + +"My husband's dear old nurse--Mrs. Berry," said Lucy, taking her hand to +lend her countenance. "Lord Mountfalcon, Mrs. Berry." + +Mrs. Berry sought grace while she performed a series of apologetic bobs, +and wiped the perspiration from her forehead. + +Lucy put her into a chair: Lord Mountfalcon asked for an account of her +passage over to the Island; receiving distressingly full particulars, by +which it was revealed that the softness of her heart was only equalled +by the weakness of her stomach. The recital calmed Mrs. Berry down. + +"Well, and where's my--where's Mr. Richard? yer husband, my dear?" Mrs. +Berry turned from her tale to question. + +"Did you expect to see him here?" said Lucy, in a broken voice. + +"And where else, my love? since he haven't been seen in London a whole +fortnight." + +Lucy did not speak. + +"We will dismiss the Emperor Julian till to-morrow, I think," said Lord +Mountfalcon, rising and bowing. + +Lucy gave him her hand with mute thanks. He touched it distantly, +embraced Mrs. Berry in a farewell bow, and was shown out of the house by +Tom Bakewell. + +The moment he was gone, Mrs. Berry threw up her arms. "Did ye ever +know sich a horrid thing to go and happen to a virtuous woman!" she +exclaimed. "I could cry at it, I could! To be goin' and kissin' a +strange hairy man! Oh dear me! what's cornin' next, I wonder? Whiskers! +thinks I--for I know the touch o' whiskers--'t ain't like other +hair--what! have he growed a crop that sudden, I says to myself; and it +flashed on me I been and made a awful mistake! and the lights come in, +and I see that great hairy man--beggin' his pardon--nobleman, and if +I could 'a dropped through the floor out o' sight o' men, drat 'em! +they're al'ays in the way, that they are!"-- + +"Mrs. Berry," Lucy checked her, "did you expect to find him here?" + +"Askin' that solemn?" retorted Berry. "What him? your husband? O' course +I did! and you got him--somewheres hid." + +"I have not heard from my husband for fifteen days," said Lucy, and her +tears rolled heavily off her cheeks. + +"Not heer from him!--fifteen days!" Berry echoed. + +"O Mrs. Berry! dear kind Mrs. Berry! have you no news? nothing to tell +me! I've borne it so long. They're cruel to me, Mrs. Berry. Oh, do +you know if I have offended him--my husband? While he wrote I did not +complain. I could live on his letters for years. But not to hear from +him! To think I have ruined him, and that he repents! Do they want to +take him from me? Do they want me dead? O Mrs. Berry! I've had no one to +speak out my heart to all this time, and I cannot, cannot help crying, +Mrs. Berry!" + +Mrs. Berry was inclined to be miserable at what she heard from Lucy's +lips, and she was herself full of dire apprehension; but it was never +this excellent creature's system to be miserable in company. The sight +of a sorrow that was not positive, and could not refer to proof, set her +resolutely the other way. + +"Fiddle-faddle," she said. "I'd like to see him repent! He won't find +anywheres a beauty like his own dear little wife, and he know it. Now, +look you here, my dear--you blessed weepin' pet--the man that could see +ye with that hair of yours there in ruins, and he backed by the law, and +not rush into your arms and hold ye squeezed for life, he ain't got much +man in him, I say; and no one can say that of my babe! I was sayin', +look here, to comfort ye--oh, why, to be sure he've got some surprise +for ye. And so've I, my lamb! Hark, now! His father've come to town, +like a good reasonable man at last, to u-nite ye both, and bring your +bodies together, as your hearts is, for everlastin'. Now ain't that +news?" + +"Oh!" cried Lucy, "that takes my last hope away. I thought he had gone +to his father." She burst into fresh tears. + +Mrs. Berry paused, disturbed. + +"Belike he's travellin' after him," she suggested. + +"Fifteen days, Mrs. Berry!" + +"Ah, fifteen weeks, my dear, after sieh a man as that. He's a regular +meteor, is Sir Austin Feverel, Raynham Abbey. Well, so hark you here. +I says to myself, that knows him--for I did think my babe was in his +natural nest--I says, the bar'net'll never write for you both to come +up and beg forgiveness, so down I'll go and fetch you up. For there was +your mistake, my dear, ever to leave your husband to go away from ye one +hour in a young marriage. It's dangerous, it's mad, it's wrong, and it's +only to be righted by your obeyin' of me, as I commands it: for I has my +fits, though I am a soft 'un. Obey me, and ye'll be happy tomorrow--or +the next to it." + +Lucy was willing to see comfort. She was weary of her self-inflicted +martyrdom, and glad to give herself up to somebody else's guidance +utterly. + +"But why does he not write to me, Mrs. Berry?" + +"'Cause, 'cause--who can tell the why of men, my dear? But that he love +ye faithful, I'll swear. Haven't he groaned in my arms that he couldn't +come to ye?--weak wretch! Hasn't he swore how he loved ye to me, poor +young man! But this is your fault, my sweet. Yes, it be. You should 'a +followed my 'dvice at the fust--'stead o' going into your 'eroics about +this and t'other." Here Mrs. Berry poured forth fresh sentences on +matrimony, pointed especially at young couples. "I should 'a been a fool +if I hadn't suffered myself," she confessed, "so I'll thank my Berry if +I makes you wise in season." + +Lucy smoothed her ruddy plump cheeks, and gazed up affectionately into +the soft woman's kind brown eyes. Endearing phrases passed from mouth +to mouth. And as she gazed Lucy blushed, as one who has something very +secret to tell, very sweet, very strange, but cannot quite bring herself +to speak it. + +"Well! these's three men in my life I kissed," said Mrs. Berry, too +much absorbed in her extraordinary adventure to notice the young wife's +struggling bosom, "three men, and one a nobleman! He've got more whisker +than my Berry, I wonder what the man thought. Ten to one he'll think, +now, I was glad o' my chance--they're that vain, whether they's lords or +commons. How was I to know? I nat'ral thinks none but her husband'd +sit in that chair. Ha! and in the dark? and alone with ye?" Mrs. Berry +hardened her eyes, "and your husband away? What do this mean? Tell to +me, child, what it mean his bein' here alone without ere a candle?" + +"Lord Mountfalcon is the only friend I have here," said Lucy. "He is +very kind. He comes almost every evening." + +"Lord Montfalcon--that his name!" Mrs. Berry exclaimed. "I been that +flurried by the man, I didn't mind it at first. He come every evenin', +and your husband out o' sight! My goodness me! it's gettin' worse and +worse. And what do he come for, now, ma'am? Now tell me candid what ye +do together here in the dark of an evenin'." + +Mrs. Berry glanced severely. + +"O Mrs. Berry! please not to speak in that way--I don't like it," said +Lucy, pouting. + +"What do he come for, I ask?" + +"Because he is kind, Mrs. Berry. He sees me very lonely, and wishes to +amuse me. And he tells me of things I know nothing about and"-- + +"And wants to be a-teachin' some of his things, mayhap," Mrs. Berry +interrupted with a ruffled breast. + +"You are a very ungenerous, suspicious, naughty old woman," said Lucy, +chiding her. + +"And you're a silly, unsuspectin' little bird," Mrs. Berry retorted, +as she returned her taps on the cheek. "You haven't told me what ye do +together, and what's his excuse for comin'." + +"Well, then, Mrs. Berry, almost every evening that he comes we read +History, and he explains the battles, and talks to me about the great +men. And he says I'm not silly, Mrs. Berry." + +"That's one bit o' lime on your wings, my bird. History, indeed! History +to a young married lovely woman alone in the dark! a pretty History! +Why, I know that man's name, my dear. He's a notorious living rake, that +Lord Montfalcon. No woman's safe with him." + +"Ah, but he hasn't deceived me, Mrs. Berry. He has not pretended he was +good." + +"More's his art," quoth the experienced dame. "So you read History +together in the dark; my dear!" + +"I was unwell to-night, Mrs. Berry. I wanted him not to see my face. +Look! there's the book open ready for him when the candles come in. And +now, you dear kind darling old thing, let me kiss you for coming to me. +I do love you. Talk of other things." + +"So we will," said Mrs. Berry softening to Lucy's caresses. "So let us. +A nobleman, indeed, alone with a young wife in the dark, and she sich +a beauty! I say this shall be put a stop to now and henceforth, on the +spot it shall! He won't meneuvele Bessy Berry with his arts. There! I +drop him. I'm dyin' for a cup o' tea, my dear." + +Lucy got up to ring the bell, and as Mrs. Berry, incapable of quite +dropping him, was continuing to say: "Let him go and boast I kiss +him; he ain't nothin' to be 'shamed of in a chaste woman's +kiss--unawares--which men don't get too often in their lives, I can +assure 'em;"--her eye surveyed Lucy's figure. + +Lo, when Lucy returned to her, Mrs. Berry surrounded her with her arms, +and drew her into feminine depths. "Oh, you blessed!" she cried in most +meaning tone, "you good, lovin', proper little wife, you!" + +"What is it, Mrs. Berry!" lisps Lucy, opening the most innocent blue +eyes. + +"As if I couldn't see, you pet! It was my flurry blinded me, or I'd 'a +marked ye the fast shock. Thinkin' to deceive me!" + +Mrs. Berry's eyes spoke generations. Lucy's wavered; she coloured all +over, and hid her face on the bounteous breast that mounted to her. + +"You're a sweet one," murmured the soft woman, patting her back, and +rocking her. "You're a rose, you are! and a bud on your stalk. Haven't +told a word to your husband, my dear?" she asked quickly. + +Lucy shook her head, looking sly and shy. + +"That's right. We'll give him a surprise; let it come all at once on +him, and thinks he--losin' breath 'I'm a father!' Nor a hint even you +haven't give him?" + +Lucy kissed her, to indicate it was quite a secret. + +"Oh! you are a sweet one," said Bessy Berry, and rocked her more closely +and lovingly. + +Then these two had a whispered conversation, from which let all of male +persuasion retire a space nothing under one mile. + +Returning, after a due interval, we see Mrs. Berry counting on her +fingers' ends. Concluding the sum, she cries prophetically: "Now this +right everything--a baby in the balance! Now I say this angel-infant +come from on high. It's God's messenger, my love! and it's not wrong to +say so. He thinks you worthy, or you wouldn't 'a had one--not for all +the tryin' in the world, you wouldn't, and some tries hard enough, +poor creatures! Now let us rejice and make merry! I'm for cryin' and +laughin', one and the same. This is the blessed seal of matrimony, +which Berry never stamp on me. It's be hoped it's a boy. Make that man a +grandfather, and his grandchild a son, and you got him safe. Oh! this +is what I call happiness, and I'll have my tea a little stronger in +consequence. I declare I could get tipsy to know this joyful news." + +So Mrs. Berry carolled. She had her tea a little stronger. She ate and +she drank; she rejoiced and made merry. The bliss of the chaste was +hers. + +Says Lucy demurely: "Now you know why I read History, and that sort of +books." + +"Do I?" replies Berry. "Belike I do. Since what you done's so good, my +darlin', I'm agreeable to anything. A fig for all the lords! They +can't come anigh a baby. You may read Voyages and Travels, my dear, and +Romances, and Tales of Love and War. You cut the riddle in your own dear +way, and that's all I cares for." + +"No, but you don't understand," persists Lucy. "I only read sensible +books, and talk of serious things, because I'm sure... because I have +heard say...dear Mrs. Berry! don't you understand now?" + +Mrs. Berry smacked her knees. "Only to think of her bein' that +thoughtful! and she a Catholic, too! Never tell me that people of one +religion ain't as good as another, after that. Why, you want to make him +a historian, to be sure! And that rake of a lord who've been comin' here +playin' at wolf, you been and made him--unbeknown to himself--sort o' +tutor to the unborn blessed! Ha! ha! say that little women ain't got art +ekal to the cunningest of 'em. Oh! I understand. Why, to be sure, didn't +I know a lady, a widow of a clergyman: he was a postermost child, and +afore his birth that women read nothin' but Blair's 'Grave' over and +over again, from the end to the beginnin';--that's a serious book!--very +hard readin'!--and at four years of age that child that come of it +reelly was the piousest infant!--he was like a little curate. His eyes +was up; he talked so solemn." Mrs. Berry imitated the little curate's +appearance and manner of speaking. "So she got her wish, for one!" + +But at this lady Lucy laughed. + +They chattered on happily till bedtime. Lucy arranged for Mrs. Berry to +sleep with her. "If it's not dreadful to ye, my sweet, sleepin' beside +a woman," said Mrs. Berry. "I know it were to me shortly after my Berry, +and I felt it. It don't somehow seem nat'ral after matrimony--a woman in +your bed! I was obliged to have somebody, for the cold sheets do give ye +the creeps when you've been used to that that's different." + +Upstairs they went together, Lucy not sharing these objections. Then +Lucy opened certain drawers, and exhibited pretty caps, and laced linen, +all adapted for a very small body, all the work of her own hands: and +Mrs. Berry praised them and her. "You been guessing a boy--woman-like," +she said. Then they cooed, and kissed, and undressed by the fire, and +knelt at the bedside, with their arms about each other, praying; both +praying for the unborn child; and Mrs. Berry pressed Lucy's waist the +moment she was about to breathe the petition to heaven to shield and +bless that coming life; and thereat Lucy closed to her, and felt a +strong love for her. Then Lucy got into bed first, leaving Berry to put +out the light, and before she did so, Berry leaned over her, and eyed +her roguishly, saying, "I never see ye like this, but I'm half in love +with ye myself, you blushin' beauty! Sweet's your eyes, and your hair do +take one so--lyin' back. I'd never forgive my father if he kep me away +from ye four-and-twenty hours just. Husband o' that!" Berry pointed at +the young wife's loveliness. "Ye look so ripe with kisses, and there +they are a-languishin'!--... You never look so but in your bed, ye +beauty!--just as it ought to be." Lucy had to pretend to rise to put out +the light before Berry would give up her amorous chaste soliloquy. Then +they lay in bed, and Mrs. Berry fondled her, and arranged for their +departure to-morrow, and reviewed Richard's emotions when he came to +hear he was going to be made a father by her, and hinted at Lucy's +delicious shivers when Richard was again in his rightful place, which +she, Bessy Berry, now usurped; and all sorts of amorous sweet things; +enough to make one fancy the adage subverted, that stolen fruits are +sweetest; she drew such glowing pictures of bliss within the law and the +limits of the conscience, till at last, worn out, Lucy murmured "Peepy, +dear Berry," and the soft woman gradually ceased her chirp. + +Bessy Berry did not sleep. She lay thinking of the sweet brave heart +beside her, and listening to Lucy's breath as it came and went; +squeezing the fair sleeper's hand now and then, to ease her love as +her reflections warmed. A storm of wind came howling over the Hampshire +hills, and sprang white foam on the water, and shook the bare trees. It +passed, leaving a thin cloth of snow on the wintry land. The moon shone +brilliantly. Berry heard the house-dog bark. His bark was savage and +persistent. She was roused by the noise. By and by she fancied she +heard a movement in the house; then it seemed to her that the house-door +opened. She cocked her ears, and could almost make out voices in the +midnight stillness. She slipped from the bed, locked and bolted the +door of the room, assured herself of Lucy's unconsciousness, and went on +tiptoe to the window. The trees all stood white to the north; the ground +glittered; the cold was keen. Berry wrapped her fat arms across her +bosom, and peeped as close over into the garden as the situation of the +window permitted. Berry was a soft, not a timid, woman: and it happened +this night that her thoughts were above the fears of the dark. She was +sure of the voices; curiosity without a shade of alarm held her on +the watch; and gathering bundles of her day-apparel round her neck +and shoulders, she silenced the chattering of her teeth as well as she +could, and remained stationary. The low hum of the voices came to a +break; something was said in a louder tone; the house-door quietly shut; +a man walked out of the garden into the road. He paused opposite her +window, and Berry let the blind go back to its place, and peeped from +behind an edge of it. He was in the shadow of the house, so that it was +impossible to discern much of his figure. After some minutes he walked +rapidly away, and Berry returned to the bed an icicle, from which Lucy's +limbs sensitively shrank. + +Next morning Mrs. Berry asked Tom Bakewell if he had been disturbed in +the night. Tom, the mysterious, said he had slept like a top. Mrs. Berry +went into the garden. The snow was partially melted; all save one spot, +just under the portal, and there she saw the print of a man's foot. By +some strange guidance it occurred to her to go and find one of Richard's +boots. She did so, and, unperceived, she measured the sole of the boot +in that solitary footmark. There could be no doubt that it fitted. She +tried it from heel to toe a dozen times. + + + + +CHAPTER XL + +Sir Austin Feverel had come to town with the serenity of a philosopher +who says, 'Tis now time; and the satisfaction of a man who has not +arrived thereat without a struggle. He had almost forgiven his son. His +deep love for him had well-nigh shaken loose from wounded pride and more +tenacious vanity. Stirrings of a remote sympathy for the creature who +had robbed him of his son and hewed at his System, were in his heart +of hearts. This he knew; and in his own mind he took credit for his +softness. But the world must not suppose him soft; the world must think +he was still acting on his System. Otherwise what would his long absence +signify?--Something highly unphilosophical. So, though love was strong, +and was moving him to a straightforward course, the last tug of vanity +drew him still aslant. + +The Aphorist read himself so well, that to juggle with himself was a +necessity. As he wished the world to see him, he beheld himself: one who +entirely put aside mere personal feelings: one in whom parental duty, +based on the science of life, was paramount: a Scientific Humanist, in +short. + +He was, therefore, rather surprised at a coldness in Lady Blandish's +manner when he did appear. "At last!" said the lady, in a sad way that +sounded reproachfully. Now the Scientific Humanist had, of course, +nothing to reproach himself with. + +But where was Richard? + +Adrian positively averred he was not with his wife. + +"If he had gone," said the baronet, "he would have anticipated me by a +few hours." + +This, when repeated to Lady Blandish, should have propitiated her, and +shown his great forgiveness. She, however, sighed, and looked at him +wistfully. + +Their converse was not happy and deeply intimate. Philosophy did not +seem to catch her mind; and fine phrases encountered a rueful assent, +more flattering to their grandeur than to their influence. + +Days went by. Richard did not present himself. Sir Austin's pitch of +self-command was to await the youth without signs of impatience. + +Seeing this, the lady told him her fears for Richard, and mentioned the +rumour of him that was about. + +"If," said the baronet, "this person, his wife, is what you paint her, I +do not share your fears for him. I think too well of him. If she is one +to inspire the sacredness of that union, I think too well of him. It is +impossible." + +The lady saw one thing to be done. + +"Call her to you," she said. "Have her with you at Raynham. Recognize +her. It is the disunion and doubt that so confuses him and drives him +wild. I confess to you I hoped he had gone to her. It seems not. If she +is with you his way will be clear. Will you do that?" + +Science is notoriously of slow movement. Lady Blandish's proposition was +far too hasty for Sir Austin. Women, rapid by nature, have no idea of +science. + +"We shall see her there in time, Emmeline. At present let it be between +me and my son." + +He spoke loftily. In truth it offended him to be asked to do anything, +when he had just brought himself to do so much. + +A month elapsed, and Richard appeared on the scene. + +The meeting between him and his father was not what his father had +expected and had crooned over in the Welsh mountains. Richard shook his +hand respectfully, and inquired after his health with the common social +solicitude. He then said: "During your absence, sir, I have taken the +liberty, without consulting you, to do something in which you are more +deeply concerned than myself. I have taken upon myself to find out my +mother and place her under my care. I trust you will not think I have +done wrong. I acted as I thought best." + +Sir Austin replied: "You are of an age, Richard, to judge for yourself +in such a case. I would have you simply beware of deceiving yourself +in imagining that you considered any one but yourself in acting as you +did." + +"I have not deceived myself, sir," said Richard, and the interview was +over. Both hated an exposure of the feelings, and in that both were +satisfied: but the baronet, as one who loves, hoped and looked for tones +indicative of trouble and delight in the deep heart; and Richard gave +him none of those. The young man did not even face him as he spoke: +if their eyes met by chance, Richard's were defiantly cold. His whole +bearing was changed. + +"This rash marriage has altered him," said the very just man of science +in life: and that meant: "it has debased him." + +He pursued his reflections. "I see in him the desperate maturity of a +suddenly-ripened nature: and but for my faith that good work is never +lost, what should I think of the toil of my years? Lost, perhaps to me! +lost to him! It may show itself in his children." + +The Philosopher, we may conceive, has contentment in benefiting embryos: +but it was a somewhat bitter prospect to Sir Austin. Bitterly he felt +the injury to himself. + +One little incident spoke well of Richard. A poor woman called at the +hotel while he was missing. The baronet saw her, and she told him a tale +that threw Christian light on one part of Richard's nature. But this +might gratify the father in Sir Austin; it did not touch the man of +science. A Feverel, his son, would not do less, he thought. He sat down +deliberately to study his son. + +No definite observations enlightened him. Richard ate and drank; joked +and laughed. He was generally before Adrian in calling for a fresh +bottle. He talked easily of current topics; his gaiety did not sound +forced. In all he did, nevertheless, there was not the air of a youth +who sees a future before him. Sir Austin put that down. It might be +carelessness, and wanton blood, for no one could say he had much on his +mind. The man of science was not reckoning that Richard also might have +learned to act and wear a mask. Dead subjects--this is to say, people +not on their guard--he could penetrate and dissect. It is by a rare +chance, as scientific men well know, that one has an opportunity of +examining the structure of the living. + +However, that rare chance was granted to Sir Austin. They were engaged +to dine with Mrs. Doria at the Foreys', and walked down to her in the +afternoon, father and son arm-in-arm, Adrian beside them. Previously the +offended father had condescended to inform his son that it would shortly +be time for him to return to his wife, indicating that arrangements +would ultimately be ordered to receive her at Raynham. Richard had +replied nothing; which might mean excess of gratitude, or hypocrisy +in concealing his pleasure, or any one of the thousand shifts by which +gratified human nature expresses itself when all is made to run smooth +with it. Now Mrs. Berry had her surprise ready charged for the young +husband. She had Lucy in her own house waiting for him. Every day she +expected him to call and be overcome by the rapturous surprise, and +every day, knowing his habit of frequenting the park, she marched +Lucy thither, under the plea that Master Richard, whom she had already +christened, should have an airing. + +The round of the red winter sun was behind the bare Kensington +chestnuts, when these two parties met. Happily for Lucy and the hope +she bore in her bosom, she was perversely admiring a fair horsewoman +galloping by at the moment. Mrs. Berry plucked at her gown once or +twice, to prepare her eyes for the shock, but Lucy's head was still half +averted, and thinks Mrs. Berry, "Twon't hurt her if she go into his +arms head foremost." They were close; Mrs. Berry performed the bob +preliminary. Richard held her silent with a terrible face; he grasped +her arm, and put her behind him. Other people intervened. Lucy saw +nothing to account for Berry's excessive flutter. Berry threw it on the +air and some breakfast bacon, which, she said, she knew in the morning +while she ate it, was bad for the bile, and which probably was the cause +of her bursting into tears, much to Lucy's astonishment. + +"What you ate makes you cry, Mrs. Berry?" + +"It's all--" Mrs. Berry pressed at her heart and leaned sideways, +"it's all stomach, my dear. Don't ye mind," and becoming aware of her +unfashionable behaviour, she trailed off to the shelter of the elms. + +"You have a singular manner with old ladies," said Sir Austin to his +son, after Berry had been swept aside. + +Scarcely courteous. She behaved like a mad woman, certainly."--Are you +ill, my son?" + +Richard was death-pale, his strong form smitten through with weakness. +The baronet sought Adrian's eye. Adrian had seen Lucy as they passed, +and he had a glimpse of Richard's countenance while disposing of Berry. +Had Lucy recognized them, he would have gone to her unhesitatingly. +As she did not, he thought it well, under the circumstances, to leave +matters as they were. He answered the baronet's look with a shrug. + +"Are you ill, Richard?" Sir Austin again asked his son. + +"Come on, sir! come on!" cried Richard. + +His father's further meditations, as they stepped briskly to the +Foreys', gave poor ferry a character which one who lectures on +matrimony, and has kissed but three men in her life, shrieks to hear the +very title of. + +"Richard will go to his wife to-morrow," Sir Austin said to Adrian some +time before they went in to dinner. + +Adrian asked him if he had chanced to see a young fair-haired lady by +the side of the old one Richard had treated so peculiarly; and to the +baronet's acknowledgment that he remembered to have observed such a +person, Adrian said: "That was his wife, sir." + +Sir Austin could not dissect the living subject. As if a bullet had +torn open the young man's skull, and some blast of battle laid his +palpitating organization bare, he watched every motion of his brain and +his heart; and with the grief and terror of one whose mental habit +was ever to pierce to extremes. Not altogether conscious that he had +hitherto played with life, he felt that he was suddenly plunged into the +stormful reality of it. He projected to speak plainly to his son on all +points that night. + +"Richard is very gay," Mrs. Doris, whispered her brother. + +"All will be right with him to-morrow," he replied; for the game had +been in his hands so long, so long had he been the God of the machine, +that having once resolved to speak plainly and to act, he was to a +certain extent secure, bad as the thing to mend might be. + +"I notice he has rather a wild laugh--I don't exactly like his eyes," +said Mrs. Doria. + +"You will see a change in him to-morrow," the man of science remarked. + +It was reserved for Mrs. Doria herself to experience that change. In the +middle of the dinner a telegraphic message from her son-in-law, worthy +John Todhunter, reached the house, stating that Clare was alarmingly +ill, bidding her come instantly. She cast about for some one to +accompany her, and fixed on Richard. Before he would give his consent +for Richard to go, Sir Austin desired to speak with him apart, and in +that interview he said to his son: "My dear Richard! it was my intention +that we should come to an understanding together this night. But the +time is short--poor Helen cannot spare many minutes. Let me then say +that you deceived me, and that I forgive you. We fix our seal on +the past. You will bring your wife to me when you return." And very +cheerfully the baronet looked down on the generous future he thus +founded. + +"Will you have her at Raynham at once, sir?" said Richard. + +"Yes, my son, when you bring her." + +"Are you mocking me, sir?" + +"Pray, what do you mean?" + +"I ask you to receive her at once." + +"Well! the delay cannot be long. I do not apprehend that you will be +kept from your happiness many days." + +"I think it will be some time, sir!" said Richard, sighing deeply. + +"And what mental freak is this that can induce you to postpone it and +play with your first duty?" + +"What is my first duty, sir?" + +"Since you are married, to be with your wife." + +"I have heard that from an old woman called Berry!" said Richard to +himself, not intending irony. + +"Will you receive her at once?" he asked resolutely. + +The baronet was clouded by his son's reception of his graciousness. His +grateful prospect had formerly been Richard's marriage--the culmination +of his System. Richard had destroyed his participation in that. He now +looked for a pretty scene in recompense:--Richard leading up his wife +to him, and both being welcomed by him paternally, and so held one +ostentatious minute in his embrace. + +He said: "Before you return, I demur to receiving her." + +"Very well, sir," replied his son, and stood as if he had spoken all. + +"Really you tempt me to fancy you already regret your rash proceeding!" +the baronet exclaimed; and the next moment it pained him he had uttered +the words, Richard's eyes were so sorrowfully fierce. It pained him, +but he divined in that look a history, and he could not refrain from +glancing acutely and asking: "Do you?" + +"Regret it, sir?" The question aroused one of those struggles in the +young man's breast which a passionate storm of tears may still, +and which sink like leaden death into the soul when tears come not. +Richard's eyes had the light of the desert. + +"Do you?" his father repeated. "You tempt me--I almost fear you do." At +the thought--for he expressed his mind--the pity that he had for Richard +was not pure gold. + +"Ask me what I think of her, sir! Ask me what she is! Ask me what it is +to have taken one of God's precious angels and chained her to misery! +Ask me what it is to have plunged a sword into her heart, and to stand +over her and see such a creature bleeding! Do I regret that? Why, yes, I +do! Would you?" + +His eyes flew hard at his father under the ridge of his eyebrows. + +Sir Austin winced and reddened. Did he understand? There is ever in the +mind's eye a certain wilfulness. We see and understand; we see and won't +understand. + +"Tell me why you passed by her as you did this afternoon," he said +gravely: and in the same voice Richard answered: "I passed her because I +could not do otherwise." + +"Your wife, Richard?" + +"Yes! my wife!" + +"If she had seen you, Richard?" + +"God spared her that!" + +Mrs. Doria, bustling in practical haste, and bearing Richard's hat and +greatcoat in her energetic hands, came between them at this juncture. +Dimples of commiseration were in her cheeks while she kissed her +brother's perplexed forehead. She forgot her trouble about Clare, +deploring his fatuity. + +Sir Austin was forced to let his son depart. As of old, he took counsel +with Adrian, and the wise youth was soothing. "Somebody has kissed him, +sir, and the chaste boy can't get over it." This absurd suggestion +did more to appease the baronet than if Adrian had given a veritable +reasonable key to Richard's conduct. It set him thinking that it might +be a prudish strain in the young man's mind, due to the System in +difficulties. + +"I may have been wrong in one thing," he said, with an air of the utmost +doubt of it. "I, perhaps, was wrong in allowing him so much liberty +during his probation." + +Adrian pointed out to him that he had distinctly commanded it. + +"Yes, yes; that is on me." + +His was an order of mind that would accept the most burdensome charges, +and by some species of moral usury make a profit out of them. + +Clare was little talked of. Adrian attributed the employment of the +telegraph to John Todhunter's uxorious distress at a toothache, or +possibly the first symptoms of an heir to his house. + +"That child's mind has disease in it... She is not sound," said the +baronet. + +On the door-step of the hotel, when they returned, stood Mrs. Berry. Her +wish to speak a few words with the baronet reverentially communicated, +she was ushered upstairs into his room. + +Mrs. Berry compressed her person in the chair she was beckoned to +occupy. + +"Well' ma'am, you have something to say," observed the baronet, for she +seemed loth to commence. + +"Wishin' I hadn't--" Mrs. Berry took him up, and mindful of the good +rule to begin at the beginning, pursued: "I dare say, Sir Austin, you +don't remember me, and I little thought when last we parted our meeting +'d be like this. Twenty year don't go over one without showin' it, no +more than twenty ox. It's a might o' time,--twenty year! Leastways not +quite twenty, it ain't." + +"Round figures are best," Adrian remarked. + +"In them round figures a be-loved son have growed up, and got himself +married!" said Mrs. Berry, diving straight into the case. + +Sir Austin then learnt that he had before him the culprit who had +assisted his son in that venture. It was a stretch of his patience +to hear himself addressed on a family matter; but he was naturally +courteous. + +"He came to my house, Sir Austin, a stranger! If twenty year alters us +as have knowed each other on the earth, how must they alter they that +we parted with just come from heaven! And a heavenly babe he were! so +sweet! so strong! so fat!" + +Adrian laughed aloud. + +Mrs. Berry bumped a curtsey to him in her chair, continuing: "I wished +afore I spoke to say how thankful am I bound to be for my pension not +cut short, as have offended so, but that I know Sir Austin Feverel, +Raynham Abbey, ain't one o' them that likes to hear their good deeds +pumlished. And a pension to me now, it's something more than it were. +For a pension and pretty rosy cheeks in a maid, which I was--that's a +bait many a man'll bite, that won't so a forsaken wife!" + +"If you will speak to the point, ma'am, I will listen to you," the +baronet interrupted her. + +"It's the beginnin' that's the worst, and that's over, thank the Lord! +So I'll speak, Sir Austin, and say my say:--Lord speed me! Believin' our +idees o' matrimony to be sim'lar, then, I'll say, once married--married +for life! Yes! I don't even like widows. For I can't stop at the grave. +Not at the tomb I can't stop. My husband's my husband, and if I'm a body +at the Resurrection, I say, speaking humbly, my Berry is the husband o' +my body; and to think of two claimin' of me then--it makes me hot all +over. Such is my notion of that state 'tween man and woman. No givin' in +marriage, o' course I know; and if so I'm single." + +The baronet suppressed a smile. "Really, my good woman, you wander very +much." + +"Beggin' pardon, Sir Austin; but I has my point before me all the same, +and I'm comin' to it. Ac-knowledgin' our error, it'd done, and bein' +done, it's writ aloft. Oh! if you ony knew what a sweet young creature +she be! Indeed; 'taint all of humble birth that's unworthy, Sir Austin. +And she got her idees, too: She reads History! She talk that sensible +as would surprise ye. But for all that she's a prey to the artful o' +men--unpertected. And it's a young marriage--but there's no fear for +her, as far as she go. The fear's t'other way. There's that in a man--at +the commencement--which make of him Lord knows what if you any way +interferes: whereas a woman bides quiet! It's consolation catch her, +which is what we mean by seduein'. Whereas a man--he's a savage!" + +Sir Austin turned his face to Adrian, who was listening with huge +delight. + +"Well, ma'am, I see you have something in your mind, if you would only +come to it quickly." + +"Then here's my point, Sir Austin. I say you bred him so as there ain't +another young gentleman like him in England, and proud he make me. And +as for her, I'll risk sayin'--it's done, and no harm--you might search +England through, and nowhere will ye find a maid that's his match like +his own wife. Then there they be. Are they together as should be? O Lord +no! Months they been divided. Then she all lonely and exposed, I went, +and fetched her out of seducers' ways--which they may say what they +like, but the inn'cent is most open to when they're healthy and +confidin'--I fetch her, and--the liberty--boxed her safe in my own +house. So much for that sweet! That you may do with women. But it's +him--Mr. Richard--I am bold, I know, but there--I'm in for it, and the +Lord'll help me! It's him, Sir Austin, in this great metropolis, warm +from a young marriage. It's him, and--I say nothin' of her, and how +sweet she bears it, and it's eating her at a time when Natur' should +have no other trouble but the one that's goin' on it's him, and I +ask--so bold--shall there--and a Christian gentlemen his father--shall +there be a tug 'tween him as a son and him as a husband--soon to be +somethin' else? I speak bold out--I'd have sons obey their fathers, but +a priest's words spoke over them, which they're now in my ears, I say +I ain't a doubt on earth--I'm sure there ain't one in heaven--which +dooty's the holier of the two." + +Sir Austin heard her to an end. Their views on the junction of the sexes +were undoubtedly akin. To be lectured on his prime subject, however, was +slightly disagreeable, and to be obliged mentally to assent to this old +lady's doctrine was rather humiliating, when it could not be averred +that he had latterly followed it out. He sat cross-legged and silent, a +finger to his temple. + +"One gets so addle-gated thinkin' many things," said Mrs. Berry, simply. +"That's why we see wonder clever people goin' wrong--to my mind. I think +it's al'ays the plan in a dielemmer to pray God and walk forward." + +The keen-witted soft woman was tracking the baronet's thoughts, and she +had absolutely run him down and taken an explanation out of his mouth, +by which Mrs. Berry was to have been informed that he had acted from a +principle of his own, and devolved a wisdom she could not be expected to +comprehend. + +Of course he became advised immediately that it would be waste of time +to direct such an explanation to her inferior capacity. + +He gave her his hand, saying, "My son has gone out of town to see his +cousin, who is ill. He will return in two or three days, and then they +will both come to me at Raynham." + +Mrs. Berry took the tips of his fingers, and went half-way to the floor +perpendicularly. "He pass her like a stranger in the park this evenin'," +she faltered. + +"Ah?" said the baronet. "Yes, well! they will be at Raynham before the +week is over." + +Mrs. Berry was not quite satisfied. "Not of his own accord he pass that +sweet young wife of his like a stranger this day, Sir Austin!" + +"I must beg you not to intrude further, ma'am." + +Mrs. Berry bobbed her bunch of a body out of the room. + +"All's well that ends well," she said to herself. "It's just bad +inquirin' too close among men. We must take 'em somethin' like +Providence--as they come. Thank heaven! I kep' back the baby." + +In Mrs. Berry's eyes the baby was the victorious reserve. + +Adrian asked his chief what he thought of that specimen of woman. + +"I think I have not met a better in my life," said the baronet, mingling +praise and sarcasm. + +Clare lies in her bed as placid as in the days when she breathed; her +white hands stretched their length along the sheets, at peace from head +to feet. She needs iron no more. Richard is face to face with death for +the first time. He sees the sculpture of clay--the spark gone. + +Clare gave her mother the welcome of the dead. This child would have +spoken nothing but kind commonplaces had she been alive. She was dead, +and none knew her malady. On her fourth finger were two wedding-rings. + +When hours of weeping had silenced the mother's anguish, she, for +some comfort she saw in it, pointed out that strange thing to Richard, +speaking low in the chamber of the dead; and then he learnt that it +was his own lost ring Clare wore in the two worlds. He learnt from her +husband that Clare's last request had been that neither of the rings +should be removed. She had written it; she would not speak it. + +"I beg of my husband, and all kind people who may have the care of me +between this and the grave, to bury me with my hands untouched." + +The tracing of the words showed the bodily torment she was suffering, as +she wrote them on a scrap of paper found beside her pillow. + +In wonder, as the dim idea grew from the waving of Clare's dead hand, +Richard paced the house, and hung about the awful room; dreading to +enter it, reluctant to quit it. The secret Clare had buried while she +lived, arose with her death. He saw it play like flame across her marble +features. The memory of her voice was like a knife at his nerves. His +coldness to her started up accusingly: her meekness was bitter blame. + +On the evening of the fourth day, her mother came to him in his bedroom, +with a face so white that he asked himself if aught worse could happen +to a mother than the loss of her child. Choking she said to him, "Read +this," and thrust a leather-bound pocket-book trembling in his hand. She +would not breathe to him what it was. She entreated him not to open it +before her. + +"Tell me," she said, "tell me what you think. John must not hear of it. +I have nobody to consult but you O Richard!" + +"My Diary" was written in the round hand of Clare's childhood on the +first page. The first name his eye encountered was his own. + +"Richard's fourteenth birthday. I have worked him a purse and put it +under his pillow, because he is going to have plenty of money. He does +not notice me now because he has a friend now, and he is ugly, but +Richard is not, and never will be." + +The occurrences of that day were subsequently recorded, and a childish +prayer to God for him set down. Step by step he saw her growing mind in +his history. As she advanced in years she began to look back, and made +much of little trivial remembrances, all bearing upon him. + +"We went into the fields and gathered cowslips together, and pelted each +other, and I told him he used to call them 'coals-sleeps' when he was +a baby, and he was angry at my telling him, for he does not like to be +told he was ever a baby." + +He remembered the incident, and remembered his stupid scorn of her meek +affection. Little Clare! how she lived before him in her white dress and +pink ribbons, and soft dark eyes! Upstairs she was lying dead. He read +on: + +"Mama says there is no one in the world like Richard, and I am sure +there is not, not in the whole world. He says he is going to be a great +General and going to the wars. If he does I shall dress myself as a boy +and go after him, and he will not know me till I am wounded. Oh I pray +he will never, never be wounded. I wonder what I should feel if Richard +was ever to die." + +Upstairs Clare was lying dead. + +"Lady Blandish said there was a likeness between Richard and me. Richard +said I hope I do not hang down my head as she does. He is angry with me +because I do not look people in the face and speak out, but I know I am +not looking after earthworms." + +Yes. He had told her that. A shiver seized him at the recollection. + +Then it came to a period when the words: "Richard kissed me," stood by +themselves, and marked a day in her life. + +Afterwards it was solemnly discovered that Richard wrote poetry. He read +one of his old forgotten compositions penned when he had that ambition. + + "Thy truth to me is truer + Than horse, or dog, or blade; + Thy vows to me are fewer + Than ever maiden made. + + Thou steppest from thy splendour + To make my life a song: + My bosom shall be tender + As thine has risen strong." + +All the verses were transcribed. "It is he who is the humble knight," +Clare explained at the close, "and his lady, is a Queen. Any Queen would +throw her crown away for him." + +It came to that period when Clare left Raynham with her mother. + +"Richard was not sorry to lose me. He only loves boys and men. Something +tells me I shall never see Raynham again. He was dressed in blue. He +said Good-bye, Clare, and kissed me on the cheek. Richard never kisses +me on the mouth. He did not know I went to his bed and kissed him while +he was asleep. He sleeps with one arm under his head, and the other out +on the bed. I moved away a bit of his hair that was over his eyes. +I wanted to cut it. I have one piece. I do not let anybody see I am +unhappy, not even mama. She says I want iron. I am sure I do not. I +like to write my name. Clare Doria Forey. Richard's is Richard Doria +Feverel." + +His breast rose convulsively. Clare Doria Forey! He knew the music of +that name. He had heard it somewhere. It sounded faint and mellow now +behind the hills of death. + +He could not read for tears. It was midnight. The hour seemed to belong +to her. The awful stillness and the darkness were Clare's. Clare's voice +clear and cold from the grave possessed it. + +Painfully, with blinded eyes, he looked over the breathless pages. She +spoke of his marriage, and her finding the ring. + +"I knew it was his. I knew he was going to be married that morning. I +saw him stand by the altar when they laughed at breakfast. His wife must +be so beautiful! Richard's wife! Perhaps he will love me better now he +is married. Mama says they must be separated. That is shameful. If I can +help him I will. I pray so that he may be happy. I hope God hears poor +sinners' prayers. I am very sinful. Nobody knows it as I do. They say +I am good, but I know. When I look on the ground I am not looking after +earthworms, as he said. Oh, do forgive me, God!" + +Then she spoke of her own marriage, and that it was her duty to obey her +mother. A blank in the Diary ensued. + +"I have seen Richard. Richard despises me," was the next entry. + +But now as he read his eyes were fixed, and the delicate feminine +handwriting like a black thread drew on his soul to one terrible +conclusion. + +"I cannot live. Richard despises me. I cannot bear the touch of my +fingers or the sight of my face. Oh! I understand him now. He should not +have kissed me so that last time. I wished to die while his mouth was on +mine." + +Further: "I have no escape. Richard said he would die rather than endure +it. I know he would. Why should I be afraid to do what he would do? I +think if my husband whipped me I could bear it better. He is so kind, +and tries to make me cheerful. He will soon be very unhappy. I pray +to God half the night. I seem to be losing sight of my God the more I +pray." + +Richard laid the book open on the table. Phantom surges seemed to be +mounting and travelling for his brain. Had Clare taken his wild words in +earnest? Did she lie there dead--he shrouded the thought. + +He wrapped the thoughts in shrouds, but he was again reading. + +"A quarter to one o'clock. I shall not be alive this time to-morrow. I +shall never see Richard now. I dreamed last night we were in the fields +together, and he walked with his arm round my waist. We were children, +but I thought we were married, and I showed him I wore his ring, and he +said--if you always wear it, Clare, you are as good as my wife. Then I +made a vow to wear it for ever and ever... It is not mama's fault. She +does not think as Richard and I do of these things. He is not a coward, +nor am I. He hates cowards. + +"I have written to his father to make him happy. Perhaps when I am dead +he will hear what I say. + +"I heard just now Richard call distinctly--Clare, come out to me. Surely +he has not gone. I am going I know not where. I cannot think. I am very +cold." + +The words were written larger, and staggered towards the close, as if +her hand had lost mastery over the pen. + +"I can only remember Richard now a boy. A little boy and a big boy. I am +not sure now of his voice. I can only remember certain words. 'Clari,' +and 'Don Ricardo,' and his laugh. He used to be full of fun. Once we +laughed all day together tumbling in the hay. Then he had a friend, and +began to write poetry, and be proud. If I had married a young man he +would have forgiven me, but I should not have been happier. I must have +died. God never looks on me. + +"It is past two o'clock. The sheep are bleating outside. It must be very +cold in the ground. Good-bye, Richard." + +With his name it began and ended. Even to herself Clare was not +over-communicative. The book was slender, yet her nineteen years of +existence left half the number of pages white. + +Those last words drew him irresistibly to gaze on her. There she lay, +the same impassive Clare. For a moment he wondered she had not moved--to +him she had become so different. She who had just filled his ears with +strange tidings--it was not possible to think her dead! She seemed to +have been speaking to him all through his life. His image was on that +still heart. + +He dismissed the night-watchers from the room, and remained with her +alone, till the sense of death oppressed him, and then the shock sent +him to the window to look for sky and stars. Behind a low broad pine, +hung with frosty mist, he heard a bell-wether of the flock in the silent +fold. Death in life it sounded. + +The mother found him praying at the foot of Clare's bed. She knelt by +his side, and they prayed, and their joint sobs shook their bodies, but +neither of them shed many tears. They held a dark unspoken secret in +common. They prayed God to forgive her. + +Clare was buried in the family vault of the Todhunters. Her mother +breathed no wish to have her lying at Lobourne. + +After the funeral, what they alone upon earth knew brought them +together. + +"Richard," she said, "the worst is over for me. I have no one to love +but you, dear. We have all been fighting against God, and this... +Richard! you will come with me, and be united to your wife, and spare my +brother what I suffer." + +He answered the broken spirit: "I have killed one. She sees me as I am. +I cannot go with you to my wife, because I am not worthy to touch her +hand, and were I to go, I should do this to silence my self-contempt. +Go you to her, and when she asks of me, say I have a death upon my head +that--No! say that I am abroad, seeking for that which shall cleanse me. +If I find it I shall come to claim her. If not, God help us all!" + +She had no strength to contest his solemn words, or stay him, and he +went forth. + + + + +CHAPTER XLI + +A man with a beard saluted the wise youth Adrian in the full blaze of +Piccadilly with a clap on the shoulder. Adrian glanced leisurely behind. + +"Do you want to try my nerves, my dear fellow? I'm not a man of fashion, +happily, or you would have struck the seat of them. How are you?" + +That was his welcome to Austin Wentworth after his long absence. + +Austin took his arm, and asked for news, with the hunger of one who had +been in the wilderness five years. + +"The Whigs have given up the ghost, my dear Austin. The free Briton +is to receive Liberty's pearl, the Ballot. The Aristocracy has had a +cycle's notice to quit. The Monarchy and old Madeira are going out; +Demos and Cape wines are coming in. They call it Reform. So, you see, +your absence has worked wonders. Depart for another five years, and +you will return to ruined stomachs, cracked sconces, general upset, an +equality made perfect by universal prostration." + +Austin indulged him in a laugh. "I want to hear about ourselves. How is +old Ricky?" + +"You know of his--what do they call it when greenhorns are licensed to +jump into the milkpails of dairymaids?--a very charming little woman she +makes, by the way--presentable! quite old Anacreon's rose in milk. Well! +everybody thought the System must die of it. Not a bit. It continued to +flourish in spite. It's in a consumption now, though--emaciated, lean, +raw, spectral! I've this morning escaped from Raynham to avoid the sight +of it. I have brought our genial uncle Hippias to town--a delightful +companion! I said to him: 'We've had a fine Spring.' 'Ugh!' he answers, +'there's a time when you come to think the Spring old.' You should have +heard how he trained out the 'old.' I felt something like decay in my +sap just to hear him. In the prize-fight of life, my dear Austin, +our uncle Hippias has been unfairly hit below the belt. Let's guard +ourselves there, and go and order dinner." + +"But where's Ricky now, and what is he doing?" said Austin. + +"Ask what he has done. The miraculous boy has gone and got a baby!" + +"A child? Richard has one?" Austin's clear eyes shone with pleasure. + +"I suppose it's not common among your tropical savages. He has one: one +as big as two. That has been the death-blow to the System. It bore +the marriage--the baby was too much for it. Could it swallow the baby, +'twould live. She, the wonderful woman, has produced a large boy. I +assure you it's quite amusing to see the System opening its mouth every +hour of the day, trying to gulp him down, aware that it would be a +consummate cure, or a happy release." + +By degrees Austin learnt the baronet's proceedings, and smiled sadly. + +"How has Ricky turned out?" he asked. "What sort of a character has he?" + +"The poor boy is ruined by his excessive anxiety about it. Character? he +has the character of a bullet with a treble charge of powder behind it. +Enthusiasm is the powder. That boy could get up an enthusiasm for +the maiden days of Ops! He was going to reform the world, after your +fashion, Austin,--you have something to answer for. Unfortunately he +began with the feminine side of it. Cupid proud of Phoebus newly slain, +or Pluto wishing to people his kingdom, if you like, put it into the +soft head of one of the guileless grateful creatures to kiss him for his +good work. Oh, horror! he never expected that. Conceive the System in +the flesh, and you have our Richard. The consequence is, that this male +Peri refuses to enter his Paradise, though the gates are open for +him, the trumpets blow, and the fair unspotted one awaits him +fruitful within. We heard of him last that he was trying the German +waters--preparatory to his undertaking the release of Italy from the +subjugation of the Teuton. Let's hope they'll wash him. He is in the +company of Lady Judith Felle--your old friend, the ardent female Radical +who married the decrepit to carry out her principles. They always marry +English lords, or foreign princes: I admire their tactics." + +"Judith is bad for him in such a state. I like her, but she was always +too sentimental," said Austin. + +"Sentiment made her marry the old lord, I suppose? I like her for her +sentiment, Austin. Sentimental people are sure to live long and die +fat. Feeling, that's the slayer, coz. Sentiment! 'tis the cajolery of +existence: the soft bloom which whoso weareth, he or she is enviable. +Would that I had more!" + +"You're not much changed, Adrian." + +"I'm not a Radical, Austin." + +Further inquiries, responded to in Adrian's figurative speech, +instructed Austin that the baronet was waiting for his son, in a +posture of statuesque offended paternity, before he would receive his +daughter-in-law and grandson. That was what Adrian meant by the efforts +of the System to swallow the baby. + +"We're in a tangle," said the wise youth. "Time will extricate us, I +presume, or what is the venerable signor good for?" + +Austin mused some minutes, and asked for Lucy's place of residence. + +"We'll go to her by and by," said Adrian. + +"I shall go and see her now," said Austin. + +"Well, we'll go and order the dinner first, coz." + +"Give me her address." + +"Really, Austin, you carry matters with too long a beard," Adrian +objected. "Don't you care what you eat?" he roared hoarsely, looking +humorously hurt. "I daresay not. A slice out of him that's handy--sauce +du ciel! Go, batten on the baby, cannibal. Dinner at seven." + +Adrian gave him his own address, and Lucy's, and strolled off to do the +better thing. + +Overnight Mrs. Berry had observed a long stranger in her tea-cup. +Posting him on her fingers and starting him with a smack, he had vaulted +lightly and thereby indicated that he was positively coming the next +day. She forgot him in the bustle of her duties and the absorption +of her faculties in thoughts of the incomparable stranger Lucy had +presented to the world, till a knock at the street-door reminded +her. "There he is!" she cried, as she ran to open to him. "There's my +stranger come!" Never was a woman's faith in omens so justified. The +stranger desired to see Mrs. Richard Feverel. He said his name was Mr. +Austin Wentworth. Mrs. Berry clasped her hands, exclaiming, "Come at +last!" and ran bolt out of the house to look up and down the street. +Presently she returned with many excuses for her rudeness, saying: "I +expected to see her comin' home, Mr. Wentworth. Every day twice a day +she go out to give her blessed angel an airing. No leavin' the child +with nursemaids for her! She is a mother! and good milk, too, thank the +Lord! though her heart's so low." + +Indoors Mrs. Berry stated who she was, related the history of the young +couple and her participation in it, and admired the beard. "Although +I'd swear you don't wear it for ornament, now!" she said, having in the +first impulse designed a stroke at man's vanity. + +Ultimately Mrs. Berry spoke of the family complication, and with +dejected head and joined hands threw out dark hints about Richard. + +While Austin was giving his cheerfuller views of the case, Lucy came in +preceding the baby. + +"I am Austin Wentworth," he said, taking her hand. They read each +other's faces, these two, and smiled kinship. + +"Your name is Lucy?" + +She affirmed it softly. + +"And mine is Austin, as you know." + +Mrs. Berry allowed time for Lucy's charms to subdue him, and presented +Richard's representative, who, seeing a new face, suffered himself to be +contemplated before he commenced crying aloud and knocking at the doors +of Nature for something that was due to him. + +"Ain't he a lusty darlin'?" says Mrs. Berry. "Ain't he like his own +father? There can't be no doubt about zoo, zoo pitty pet. Look at his +fists. Ain't he got passion? Ain't he a splendid roarer? Oh!" and she +went off rapturously into baby-language. + +A fine boy, certainly. Mrs. Berry exhibited his legs for further proof, +desiring Austin's confirmation as to their being dumplings. + +Lucy murmured a word of excuse, and bore the splendid roarer out of the +room. + +"She might a done it here," said Mrs. Berry. "There's no prettier +sight, I say. If her dear husband could but see that! He's off in his +heroics--he want to be doin' all sorts o' things: I say he'll never do +anything grander than that baby. You should 'a seen her uncle over that +baby--he came here, for I said, you shall see your own family, my dear, +and so she thinks. He come, and he laughed over that baby in the joy of +his heart, poor man! he cried, he did. You should see that Mr. Thompson, +Mr. Wentworth--a friend o' Mr. Richard's, and a very modest-minded young +gentleman--he worships her in his innocence. It's a sight to see him +with that baby. My belief is he's unhappy 'cause he can't anyways be +nurse-maid to him. O Mr. Wentworth! what do you think of her, sir?" + +Austin's reply was as satisfactory as a man's poor speech could make it. +He heard that Lady Feverel was in the house, and Mrs. Berry prepared the +way for him to pay his respects to her. Then Mrs. Berry ran to Lucy, and +the house buzzed with new life. The simple creatures felt in Austin's +presence something good among them. "He don't speak much," said Mrs. +Berry, "but I see by his eye he mean a deal. He ain't one o' yer +long-word gentry, who's all gay deceivers, every one of 'em." + +Lucy pressed the hearty suckling into her breast. "I wonder what he +thinks of me, Mrs. Berry? I could not speak to him. I loved him before I +saw him. I knew what his face was like." + +"He looks proper even with a beard, and that's a trial for a virtuous +man," said Mrs. Berry. "One sees straight through the hair with him. +Think! he'll think what any man'd think--you a-suckin spite o' all your +sorrow, my sweet,--and my Berry talkin' of his Roman matrons!--here's +a English wife'll match 'em all! that's what he thinks. And now that +leetle dark under yer eye'll clear, my darlin', now he've come." + +Mrs. Berry looked to no more than that; Lucy to no more than the peace +she had in being near Richard's best friend. When she sat down to tea it +was with a sense that the little room that held her was her home perhaps +for many a day. + +A chop procured and cooked by Mrs. Berry formed Austin's dinner. During +the meal he entertained them with anecdotes of his travels. Poor Lucy +had no temptation to try to conquer Austin. That heroic weakness of hers +was gone. + +Mrs. Berry had said: "Three cups--I goes no further," and Lucy had +rejected the proffer of more tea, when Austin, who was in the thick of a +Brazilian forest, asked her if she was a good traveller. + +"I mean, can you start at a minute's notice?" + +Lucy hesitated, and then said; "Yes," decisively, to which Mrs. Berry +added, that she was not a "luggage-woman." + +"There used to be a train at seven o'clock," Austin remarked, consulting +his watch. + +The two women were silent. + +"Could you get ready to come with me to Raynham in ten minutes?" + +Austin looked as if he had asked a commonplace question. + +Lucy's lips parted to speak. She could not answer. + +Loud rattled the teaboard to Mrs. Berry's dropping hands. + +"Joy and deliverance!" she exclaimed with a foundering voice. + +"Will you come?" Austin kindly asked again. + +Lucy tried to stop her beating heart, as she answered, "Yes." Mrs. Berry +cunningly pretended to interpret the irresolution in her tones with a +mighty whisper: "She's thinking what's to be done with baby." + +"He must learn to travel," said Austin. + +"Oh!" cried Mrs. Berry, "and I'll be his nuss, and bear him, a sweet! +Oh! and think of it! me nurse-maid once more at Raynham Abbey! but it's +nurse-woman now, you must say. Let us be goin' on the spot." + +She started up and away in hot haste, fearing delay would cool +the heaven-sent resolve. Austin smiled, eying his watch and Lucy +alternately. She was wishing to ask a multitude of questions. His face +reassured her, and saying: "I will be dressed instantly," she also left +the room. Talking, bustling, preparing, wrapping up my lord, and looking +to their neatnesses, they were nevertheless ready within the time +prescribed by Austin, and Mrs. Berry stood humming over the baby. "He'll +sleep it through," she said. "He's had enough for an alderman, and goes +to sleep sound after his dinner, he do, a duck!" Before they departed, +Lucy ran up to Lady Feverel. She returned for, the small one. + +"One moment, Mr. Wentworth?" + +"Just two," said Austin. + +Master Richard was taken up, and when Lucy came back her eyes were full +of tears. + +"She thinks she is never to see him again, Mr. Wentworth." + +"She shall," Austin said simply. + +Off they went, and with Austin near her, Lucy forgot to dwell at all +upon the great act of courage she was performing. + +"I do hope baby will not wake," was her chief solicitude. + +"He!" cries nurse-woman Berry, from the rear, "his little tum-tum's as +tight as he can hold, a pet! a lamb! a bird! a beauty! and ye may take +yer oath he never wakes till that's slack. He've got character of his +own, a blessed!" + +There are some tremendous citadels that only want to be taken by storm. +The baronet sat alone in his library, sick of resistance, and rejoicing +in the pride of no surrender; a terror to his friends and to himself. +Hearing Austin's name sonorously pronounced by the man of calves, +he looked up from his book, and held out his hand. "Glad to see you, +Austin." His appearance betokened complete security. The next minute he +found himself escaladed. + +It was a cry from Mrs. Berry that told him others were in the room +besides Austin. Lucy stood a little behind the lamp: Mrs. Berry close to +the door. The door was half open, and passing through it might be seen +the petrified figure of a fine man. The baronet glancing over the lamp +rose at Mrs. Berry's signification of a woman's personality. Austin +stepped back and led Lucy to him by the hand. "I have brought +Richard's wife, sir," he said with a pleased, perfectly uncalculating, +countenance, that was disarming. Very pale and trembling Lucy bowed. She +felt her two hands taken, and heard a kind voice. Could it be possible +it belonged to the dreadful father of her husband? She lifted her eyes +nervously: her hands were still detained. The baronet contemplated +Richard's choice. Had he ever had a rivalry with those pure eyes? He saw +the pain of her position shooting across her brows, and, uttering-gentle +inquiries as to her health, placed her in a seat. Mrs. Berry had already +fallen into a chair. + +"What aspect do you like for your bedroom?--East?" said the baronet. + +Lucy was asking herself wonderingly: "Am I to stay?" + +"Perhaps you had better take to Richard's room at once," he pursued. +"You have the Lobourne valley there and a good morning air, and will +feel more at home." + +Lucy's colour mounted. Mrs. Berry gave a short cough, as one who should +say, "The day is ours!" Undoubtedly--strange as it was to think it--the +fortress was carried. + +"Lucy is rather tired," said Austin, and to hear her Christian name thus +bravely spoken brought grateful dew to her eyes. + +The baronet was about to touch the bell. "But have you come alone?" he +asked. + +At this Mrs. Berry came forward. Not immediately: it seemed to require +effort for her to move, and when she was within the region of the lamp, +her agitation could not escape notice. The blissful bundle shook in her +arms. + +"By the way, what is he to me?" Austin inquired generally as he went and +unveiled the younger hope of Raynham. "My relationship is not so defined +as yours, sir." + +An observer might have supposed that the baronet peeped at his grandson +with the courteous indifference of one who merely wished to compliment +the mother of anybody's child. + +"I really think he's like Richard," Austin laughed. Lucy looked: I am +sure he is! + +"As like as one to one," Mrs. Berry murmured feebly; but Grandpapa +not speaking she thought it incumbent on her to pluck up. "And he's +as healthy as his father was, Sir Austin--spite o' the might 'a beens. +Reg'lar as the clock! We never want a clock since he come. We knows the +hour o' the day, and of the night." + +"You nurse him yourself, of course?" the baronet spoke to Lucy, and was +satisfied on that point. + +Mrs. Berry was going to display his prodigious legs. Lucy, fearing the +consequent effect on the prodigious lungs, begged her not to wake him. +"'T'd take a deal to do that," said Mrs. Berry, and harped on Master +Richard's health and the small wonder it was that he enjoyed it, +considering the superior quality of his diet, and the lavish attentions +of his mother, and then suddenly fell silent on a deep sigh. + +"He looks healthy," said the baronet, "but I am not a judge of babies." + +Thus, having capitulated, Raynham chose to acknowledge its new +commandant, who was now borne away, under the directions of the +housekeeper, to occupy the room Richard had slept in when an infant. + +Austin cast no thought on his success. The baronet said: "She is +extremely well-looking." He replied: "A person you take to at once." +There it ended. + +But a much more animated colloquy was taking place aloft, where Lucy and +Mrs. Berry sat alone. Lucy expected her to talk about the reception they +had met with, and the house, and the peculiarities of the rooms, and +the solid happiness that seemed in store. Mrs. Berry all the while would +persist in consulting the looking-glass. Her first distinct answer was, +"My dear! tell me candid, how do I look?" + +"Very nice indeed, Mrs. Berry; but could you have believed he would be +so kind, so considerate?" + +"I am sure I looked a frump," returned Mrs. Berry. "Oh dear! two birds +at a shot. What do you think, now?" + +"I never saw so wonderful a likeness," says Lucy. + +"Likeness! look at me." Mrs. Berry was trembling and hot in the palms. + +"You're very feverish, dear Berry. What can it be?" + +"Ain't it like the love-flutters of a young gal, my dear." + +"Go to bed, Berry, dear," says Lucy, pouting in her soft caressing way. +"I will undress you, and see to you, dear heart! You've had so much +excitement." + +"Ha! ha!" Berry laughed hysterically; "she thinks it's about this +business of hers. Why, it's child's-play, my darlin'. But I didn't look +for tragedy to-night. Sleep in this house I can't, my love!" + +Lucy was astonished. "Not sleep here, Mrs. Berry?--Oh! why, you silly +old thing? I know." + +"Do ye!" said Mrs. Berry, with a sceptical nose. + +"You're afraid of ghosts." + +"Belike I am when they're six foot two in their shoes, and bellows when +you stick a pin into their calves. I seen my Berry!" + +"Your husband?" + +"Large as life!" + +Lucy meditated on optical delusions, but Mrs. Berry described him as the +Colossus who had marched them into the library, and vowed that he had +recognized her and quaked. "Time ain't aged him," said Mrs. Berry, +"whereas me! he've got his excuse now. I know I look a frump." + +Lucy kissed her: "You look the nicest, dearest old thing." + +"You may say an old thing, my dear." + +"And your husband is really here?" + +"Berry's below!" + +Profoundly uttered as this was, it chased every vestige of incredulity. + +"What will you do, Mrs. Berry?" + +"Go, my dear. Leave him to be happy in his own way. It's over atween us, +I see that. When I entered the house I felt there was something comin' +over me, and lo and behold ye! no sooner was we in the hall-passage--if +it hadn't been for that blessed infant I should 'a dropped. I must 'a +known his step, for my heart began thumpin', and I knew I hadn't got my +hair straight--that Mr. Wentworth was in such a hurry--nor my best gown. +I knew he'd scorn me. He hates frumps." + +"Scorn you!" cried Lucy, angrily. "He who has behaved so wickedly!" + +Mrs. Berry attempted to rise. "I may as well go at once," she whimpered. +"If I see him I shall only be disgracin' of myself. I feel it all on my +side already. Did ye mark him, my dear? I know I was vexin' to him at +times, I was. Those big men are so touchy about their dignity--nat'ral. +Hark at me! I'm goin' all soft in a minute. Let me leave the house, my +dear. I daresay it was good half my fault. Young women don't understand +men sufficient--not altogether--and I was a young woman then; and then +what they goes and does they ain't quite answerable for: they, feels, I +daresay, pushed from behind. Yes. I'll go. I'm a frump. I'll go. 'Tain't +in natur' for me to sleep in the same house." + +Lucy laid her hands on Mrs. Berry's shoulders, and forcibly fixed her in +her seat. "Leave baby, naughty woman? I tell you he shall come to you, +and fall on his knees to you and beg your forgiveness." + +"Berry on his knees!" + +"Yes. And he shall beg and pray you to forgive him." + +"If you get more from Martin Berry than breath-away words, great'll be +my wonder!" said Mrs. Berry. + +"We will see," said Lucy, thoroughly determined to do something for the +good creature that had befriended her. + +Mrs. Berry examined her gown. "Won't it seem we're runnin' after him?" +she murmured faintly. + +"He is your husband, Mrs. Berry. He may be wanting to come to you now." + +"Oh! Where is all I was goin' to say to that man when we met." Mrs. +Berry ejaculated. Lucy had left the room. + +On the landing outside the door Lucy met a lady dressed in black, who +stopped her and asked if she was Richard's wife, and kissed her, passing +from her immediately. Lucy despatched a message for Austin, and related +the Berry history. Austin sent for the great man and said: "Do you +know your wife is here?" Before Berry had time to draw himself up to +enunciate his longest, he was requested to step upstairs, and as his +young mistress at once led the way, Berry could not refuse to put his +legs in motion and carry the stately edifice aloft. + +Of the interview Mrs. Berry gave Lucy a slight sketch that night. "He +began in the old way, my dear, and says I, a true heart and plain words, +Martin Berry. So there he cuts himself and his Johnson short, and down +he goes--down on his knees. I never could 'a believed it. I kep my +dignity as a woman till I see that sight, but that done for me. I was a +ripe apple in his arms 'fore I knew where I was. There's something about +a fine man on his knees that's too much for us women. And it reely was +the penitent on his two knees, not the lover on his one. If he mean it! +But ah! what do you think he begs of me, my dear?--not to make it known +in the house just yet! I can't, I can't say that look well." + +Lucy attributed it to his sense of shame at his conduct, and Mrs. Berry +did her best to look on it in that light. + +"Did the bar'net kiss ye when you wished him goodnight?" she asked. Lucy +said he had not. "Then bide awake as long as ye can," was Mrs. Berry's +rejoinder. "And now let us pray blessings on that simple-speaking +gentleman who does so much 'cause he says so little." + +Like many other natural people, Mrs. Berry was only silly where her own +soft heart was concerned. As she secretly anticipated, the baronet came +into her room when all was quiet. She saw him go and bend over Richard +the Second, and remain earnestly watching him. He then went to the +half-opened door of the room where Lucy slept, leaned his ear a moment, +knocked gently, and entered. Mrs. Berry heard low words interchanging +within. She could not catch a syllable, yet she would have sworn to the +context. "He've called her his daughter, promised her happiness, and +given a father's kiss to her." When Sir Austin passed out she was in a +deep sleep. + + + + +CHAPTER XLII + +Briareus reddening angrily over the sea--what is that vaporous Titan? +And Hesper set in his rosy garland--why looks he so implacably sweet? +It is that one has left that bright home to go forth and do cloudy work, +and he has got a stain with which he dare not return. Far in the West +fair Lucy beckons him to come. Ah, heaven! if he might! How strong and +fierce the temptation is! how subtle the sleepless desire! it drugs his +reason, his honour. For he loves her; she is still the first and only +woman to him. Otherwise would this black spot be hell to him? otherwise +would his limbs be chained while her arms are spread open to him. And +if he loves her, why then what is one fall in the pit, or a thousand? Is +not love the password to that beckoning bliss? So may we say; but here +is one whose body has been made a temple to him, and it is desecrated. + +A temple, and desecrated! For what is it fit for but for a dance of +devils? His education has thus wrought him to think. + +He can blame nothing but his own baseness. But to feel base and accept +the bliss that beckons--he has not fallen so low as that. + +Ah, happy English home! sweet wife! what mad miserable Wisp of the Fancy +led him away from you, high in his conceit? Poor wretch! that thought +to be he of the hundred hands, and war against the absolute Gods. Jove +whispered a light commission to the Laughing Dame; she met him; and how +did he shake Olympus? with laughter? + +Sure it were better to be Orestes, the Furies howling in his ears, than +one called to by a heavenly soul from whom he is for ever outcast. He +has not the oblivion of madness. Clothed in the lights of his first +passion, robed in the splendour of old skies, she meets him everywhere; +morning, evening, night, she shines above him; waylays him suddenly in +forest depths; drops palpably on his heart. At moments he forgets; he +rushes to embrace her; calls her his beloved, and lo, her innocent kiss +brings agony of shame to his face. + +Daily the struggle endured. His father wrote to him, begging him by the +love he had for him to return. From that hour Richard burnt unread all +the letters he received. He knew too well how easily he could persuade +himself: words from without might tempt him and quite extinguish the +spark of honourable feeling that tortured him, and that he clung to in +desperate self-vindication. + +To arrest young gentlemen on the downward slope is both a dangerous +and thankless office. It is, nevertheless, one that fair women greatly +prize, and certain of them professionally follow. Lady Judith, as far as +her sex would permit, was also of the Titans in their battle against +the absolute Gods; for which purpose, mark you, she had married a lord +incapable in all save his acres. Her achievements she kept to her own +mind: she did not look happy over them. She met Richard accidentally +in Paris; she saw his state; she let him learn that she alone on earth +understood him. The consequence was that he was forthwith enrolled in +her train. It soothed him to be near a woman. Did she venture her guess +as to the cause of his conduct, she blotted it out with a facility women +have, and cast on it a melancholy hue he was taught to participate +in. She spoke of sorrows, personal sorrows, much as he might speak of +his--vaguely, and with self-blame. And she understood him. How the dark +unfathomed wealth within us gleams to a woman's eye! We are at compound +interest immediately: so much richer than we knew!--almost as rich as +we dreamed! But then the instant we are away from her we find ourselves +bankrupt, beggared. How is that? We do not ask. We hurry to her and bask +hungrily in her orbs. The eye must be feminine to be thus creative: +I cannot say why. Lady Judith understood Richard, and he feeling +infinitely vile, somehow held to her more feverishly, as one who dreaded +the worst in missing her. The spirit must rest; he was weak with what he +suffered. + +Austin found them among the hills of Nassau in Rhineland: Titans, male +and female, who had not displaced Jove, and were now adrift, prone on +floods of sentiment. The blue-flocked peasant swinging behind his oxen +of a morning, the gaily-kerchiefed fruit-woman, the jackass-driver, even +the doctor of those regions, have done more for their fellows. Horrible +reflection! Lady Judith is serene above it, but it frets at Richard when +he is out of her shadow. Often wretchedly he watches the young men of +his own age trooping to their work. Not cloud-work theirs! Work solid, +unambitious, fruitful! + +Lady Judith had a nobler in prospect for the hero. He gaped blindfolded +for anything, and she gave him the map of Europe in tatters. He +swallowed it comfortably. It was an intoxicating cordial. Himself on +horseback overriding wrecks of Empires! Well might common sense cower +with the meaner animals at the picture. Tacitly they agreed to recast +the civilized globe. The quality of vapour is to melt and shape itself +anew; but it is never the quality of vapour to reassume the same shapes. +Briareus of the hundred unoccupied hands may turn to a monstrous +donkey with his hind legs aloft, or twenty thousand jabbering apes. The +phantasmic groupings of the young brain are very like those we see in +the skies, and equally the sport of the wind. Lady Judith blew. There +was plenty of vapour in him, and it always resolved into some shape or +other. You that mark those clouds of eventide, and know youth, will see +the similitude: it will not be strange, it will barely seem foolish +to you, that a young man of Richard's age, Richard's education and +position, should be in this wild state. Had he not been nursed to +believe he was born for great things? Did she not say she was sure of +it? And to feel base, yet born for better, is enough to make one grasp +at anything cloudy. Suppose the hero with a game leg. How intense is +his faith to quacks! with what a passion of longing is he not seized to +break somebody's head! They spoke of Italy in low voices. "The time will +come," said she. "And I shall be ready," said he. What rank was he to +take in the liberating army? Captain, colonel, general in chief, or +simple private? Here, as became him, he was much more positive and +specific than she was: Simple private, he said. Yet he save himself +caracoling on horseback. Private in the cavalry, then, of course. +Private in the cavalry over-riding wrecks of Empires. She looked forth +under her brows with mournful indistinctness at that object in the +distance. They read Petrarch to get up the necessary fires. Italia mia! +Vain indeed was this speaking to those thick and mortal wounds in her +fair body, but their sighs went with the Tiber, the Arno, and the +Po, and their hands joined. Who has not wept for Italy? I see the +aspirations of a world arise for her, thick and frequent as the puffs of +smoke from cigars of Pannonian sentries! + +So when Austin came Richard said he could not leave Lady Judith, Lady +Judith said she could not part with him. For his sake, mind! This +Richard verified. Perhaps he had reason to be grateful. The high road +of Folly may have led him from one that terminates worse. He is foolish, +God knows; but for my part I will not laugh at the hero because he has +not got his occasion. Meet him when he is, as it were, anointed by his +occasion, and he is no laughing matter. + +Richard felt his safety in this which, to please the world, we must +term folly. Exhalation of vapours was a wholesome process to him, and +somebody who gave them shape and hue a beneficent Iris. He told Austin +plainly he could not leave her, and did not anticipate the day when he +could. + +"Why can't you go to your wife, Richard?" + +"For a reason you would be the first to approve, Austin." + +He welcomed Austin with every show of manly tenderness, and sadness at +heart. Austin he had always associated with his Lucy in that Hesperian +palace of the West. Austin waited patiently. Lady Judith's old lord +played on all the baths in Nassau without evoking the tune of health. +Whithersoever he listed she changed her abode. So admirable a wife was +to be pardoned for espousing an old man. She was an enthusiast even in +her connubial duties. She had the brows of an enthusiast. With occasion +she might have been a Charlotte Corday. So let her also be shielded +from the ban of ridicule. Nonsense of enthusiasts is very different from +nonsense of ninnies. She was truly a high-minded person, of that order +who always do what they see to be right, and always have confidence in +their optics. She was not unworthy of a young man's admiration, if she +was unfit to be his guide. She resumed her ancient intimacy with Austin +easily, while she preserved her new footing with Richard. She and Austin +were not unlike, only Austin never dreamed, and had not married an old +lord. + +The three were walking on the bridge at Limburg on the Lahn, where +the shadow of a stone bishop is thrown by the moonlight on the water +brawling over slabs of slate. A woman passed them bearing in her arms a +baby, whose mighty size drew their attention. + +"What a wopper!" Richard laughed. + +"Well, that is a fine fellow," said Austin, "but I don't think he's much +bigger than your boy." + +"He'll do for a nineteenth-century Arminius," Richard was saying. Then +he looked at Austin. + +"What was that you said?" Lady Judith asked of Austin. + +"What have I said that deserves to be repeated?" Austin counterqueried +quite innocently. + +"Richard has a son?" + +"You didn't know it?" + +"His modesty goes very far," said Lady Judith, sweeping the shadow of a +curtsey to Richard's paternity. + +Richard's heart throbbed with violence. He looked again in Austin's +face. Austin took it so much as a matter of course that he said nothing +more on the subject. + +"Well!" murmured Lady Judith. + +When the two men were alone, Richard said in a quick voice: "Austin! you +were in earnest?" + +"You didn't know it, Richard?" + +"No." + +"Why, they all wrote to you. Lucy wrote to you: your father, your aunt. +I believe Adrian wrote too." + +"I tore up their letters," said Richard. + +"He's a noble fellow, I can tell you. You've nothing to be ashamed of. +He'll soon be coming to ask about you. I made sure you knew." + +"No, I never knew." Richard walked away, and then said: "What is he +like?" + +"Well, he really is like you, but he has his mother's eyes." + +"And she's--" + +"Yes. I think the child has kept her well." + +"They're both at Raynham?" + +"Both." + +Hence fantastic vapours! What are ye to this! Where are the dreams of +the hero when he learns he has a child? Nature is taking him to her +bosom. She will speak presently. Every domesticated boor in these +hills can boast the same, yet marvels the hero at none of his visioned +prodigies as he does when he comes to hear of this most common +performance. A father? Richard fixed his eyes as if he were trying to +make out the lineaments of his child. + +Telling Austin he would be back in a few minutes, he sallied into the +air, and walked on and on. "A father!" he kept repeating to himself: +"a child!" And though he knew it not, he was striking the keynotes of +Nature. But he did know of a singular harmony that suddenly burst over +his whole being. + +The moon was surpassingly bright: the summer air heavy and still. He +left the high road and pierced into the forest. His walk was rapid: the +leaves on the trees brushed his cheeks; the dead leaves heaped in the +dells noised to his feet. Something of a religious joy--a strange sacred +pleasure--was in him. By degrees it wore; he remembered himself: and now +he was possessed by a proportionate anguish. A father! he dared never +see his child. And he had no longer his phantasies to fall upon. He +was utterly bare to his sin. In his troubled mind it seemed to him that +Clare looked down on him--Clare who saw him as he was; and that to her +eyes it would be infamy for him to go and print his kiss upon his child. +Then came stern efforts to command his misery and make the nerves of his +face iron. + +By the log of an ancient tree half buried in dead leaves of past +summers, beside a brook, he halted as one who had reached his journey's +end. There he discovered he had a companion in Lady Judith's little dog. +He gave the friendly animal a pat of recognition, and both were silent +in the forest-silence. + +It was impossible for Richard to return; his heart was surcharged. He +must advance, and on he footed, the little dog following. + +An oppressive slumber hung about the forest-branches. In the dells and +on the heights was the same dead heat. Here where the brook tinkled it +was no cool-lipped sound, but metallic, and without the spirit of water. +Yonder in a space of moonlight on lush grass, the beams were as white +fire to sight and feeling. No haze spread around. The valleys were +clear, defined to the shadows of their verges, the distances sharply +distinct, and with the colours of day but slightly softened. Richard +beheld a roe moving across a slope of sward far out of rifle-mark. The +breathless silence was significant, yet the moon shone in a broad blue +heaven. Tongue out of mouth trotted the little dog after him; crouched +panting when he stopped an instant; rose weariedly when he started +afresh. Now and then a large white night-moth flitted through the dusk +of the forest. + +On a barren corner of the wooded highland looking inland stood grey +topless ruins set in nettles and rank grass-blades. Richard mechanically +sat down on the crumbling flints to rest, and listened to the panting +of the dog. Sprinkled at his feet were emerald lights: hundreds of +glow-worms studded the dark dry ground. + +He sat and eyed them, thinking not at all. His energies were expended +in action. He sat as a part of the ruins, and the moon turned his shadow +Westward from the South. Overhead, as she declined, long ripples of +silver cloud were imperceptibly stealing toward her. They were the +van of a tempest. He did not observe them or the leaves beginning to +chatter. When he again pursued his course with his face to the Rhine, a +huge mountain appeared to rise sheer over him, and he had it in his mind +to scale it. He got no nearer to the base of it for all his vigorous +outstepping. The ground began to dip; he lost sight of the sky. Then +heavy, thunder-drops streak his cheek, the leaves were singing, the +earth breathed, it was black before him, and behind. All at once the +thunder spoke. The mountain he had marked was bursting over him. + +Up startled the whole forest in violet fire. He saw the country at the +foot of the hills to the bounding Rhine gleam, quiver, extinguished. +Then there were pauses; and the lightning seemed as the eye of heaven, +and the thunder as the tongue of heaven, each alternately addressing +him; filling him with awful rapture. Alone there--sole human creature +among the grandeurs and mysteries of storm--he felt the representative +of his kind, and his spirit rose, and marched, and exulted, let it be +glory, let it be ruin! Lower down the lightened abysses of air rolled +the wrathful crash; then white thrusts of light were darted from the +sky, and great curving ferns, seen steadfast in pallor a second, were +supernaturally agitated, and vanished. Then a shrill song roused in the +leaves and the herbage. Prolonged and louder it sounded, as deeper and +heavier the deluge pressed. A mighty force of water satisfied the desire +of the earth. Even in this, drenched as he was by the first outpouring, +Richard had a savage pleasure. Keeping in motion, he was scarcely +conscious of the wet, and the grateful breath of the weeds was +refreshing. Suddenly he stopped short, lifting a curious nostril. +He fancied he smelt meadow-sweet. He had never seen the flower in +Rhineland--never thought of it; and it would hardly be met with in a +forest. He was sure he smelt it fresh in dews. His little companion +wagged a miserable wet tail some way in advance. He went an slowly, +thinking indistinctly. After two or three steps he stooped and stretched +out his hand to feel for the flower, having, he knew not why, a strong +wish to verify its growth there. Groping about, his hand encountered +something warm that started at his touch, and he, with the instinct +we have, seized it, and lifted it to look at it. The creature was very +small, evidently quite young. Richard's eyes, now accustomed to the +darkness, were able to discern it for what it was, a tiny leveret, and +ha supposed that the dog had probably frightened its dam just before he +found it. He put the little thing on one hand in his breast, and stepped +out rapidly as before. + +The rain was now steady; from every tree a fountain poured. So cool and +easy had his mind become that he was speculating on what kind of shelter +the birds could find, and how the butterflies and moths saved their +coloured wings from washing. Folded close they might hang under a leaf, +he thought. Lovingly he looked into the dripping darkness of the coverts +on each side, as one of their children. He was next musing on a strange +sensation he experienced. It ran up one arm with an indescribable +thrill, but communicated nothing to his heart. It was purely physical, +ceased for a time, and recommenced, till he had it all through his +blood, wonderfully thrilling. He grew aware that the little thing he +carried in his breast was licking his hand there. The small rough tongue +going over and over the palm of his hand produced the strange sensation +he felt. Now that he knew the cause, the marvel ended; but now that he +knew the cause, his heart was touched and made more of it. The gentle +scraping continued without intermission as on he walked. What did it say +to him? Human tongue could not have said so much just then. + +A pale grey light on the skirts of the flying tempest displayed the +dawn. Richard was walking hurriedly. The green drenched weeds lay all +about in his path, bent thick, and the forest drooped glimmeringly. +Impelled as a man who feels a revelation mounting obscurely to his +brain, Richard was passing one of those little forest-chapels, hung with +votive wreaths, where the peasant halts to kneel and pray. Cold, still, +in the twilight it stood, rain-drops pattering round it. He looked +within, and saw the Virgin holding her Child. He moved by. But not many +steps had he gone ere his strength went out of him, and he shuddered. +What was it? He asked not. He was in other hands. Vivid as lightning the +Spirit of Life illumined him. He felt in his heart the cry of his child, +his darling's touch. With shut eyes he saw them both. They drew him from +the depths; they led him a blind and tottering man. And as they led him +he had a sense of purification so sweet he shuddered again and again. + +When he looked out from his trance on the breathing world, the small +birds hopped and chirped: warm fresh sunlight was over all the hills. He +was on the edge of the forest, entering a plain clothed with ripe corn +under a spacious morning sky. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIII + +They heard at Raynham that Richard was coming. Lucy had the news first +in a letter from Ripton Thompson, who met him at Bonn. Ripton did not +say that he had employed his vacation holiday on purpose to use his +efforts to induce his dear friend to return to his wife; and finding +Richard already on his way, of course Ripton said nothing to him, but +affected to be travelling for his pleasure like any cockney. Richard +also wrote to her. In case she should have gone to the sea he directed +her to send word to his hotel that he might not lose an hour. His letter +was sedate in tone, very sweet to her. Assisted by the faithful female +Berry, she was conquering an Aphorist. + +"Woman's reason is in the milk of her breasts," was one of his rough +notes, due to an observation of Lucy's maternal cares. Let us remember, +therefore, we men who have drunk of it largely there, that she has it. + +Mrs. Berry zealously apprised him how early Master Richard's education +had commenced, and the great future historian he must consequently be. +This trait in Lucy was of itself sufficient to win Sir Austin. + +"Here my plan with Richard was false," he reflected: "in presuming that +anything save blind fortuity would bring him such a mate as he should +have." He came to add: "And has got!" + +He could admit now that instinct had so far beaten science; for as +Richard was coming, as all were to be happy, his wisdom embraced them +all paternally as the author of their happiness. Between him and Lucy a +tender intimacy grew. + +"I told you she could talk, sir," said Adrian. + +"She thinks!" said the baronet. + +The delicate question how she was to treat her uncle, he settled +generously. Farmer Blaize should come up to Raynham when he would: Lucy +must visit him at least three times a week. He had Farmer Blaize and +Mrs. Berry to study, and really excellent Aphorisms sprang from the +plain human bases this natural couple presented. + +"It will do us no harm," he thought, "some of the honest blood of the +soil in our veins." And he was content in musing on the parentage of the +little cradled boy. A common sight for those who had the entry to the +library was the baronet cherishing the hand of his daughter-in-law. + +So Richard was crossing the sea, and hearts at Raynham were beating +quicker measures as the minutes progressed. That night he would be with +them. Sir Austin gave Lucy a longer, warmer salute when she came down +to breakfast in the morning. Mrs. Berry waxed thrice amorous. "It's your +second bridals, ye sweet livin' widow!" she said. "Thanks be the Lord! +it's the same man too! and a baby over the bed-post," she appended +seriously. + +"Strange," Berry declared it to be, "strange I feel none o' this to my +Berry now. All my feelin's o' love seem t'ave gone into you two sweet +chicks." + +In fact, the faithless male Berry complained of being treated badly, and +affected a superb jealousy of the baby; but the good dame told him +that if he suffered at all he suffered his due. Berry's position was +decidedly uncomfortable. It could not be concealed from the lower +household that he had a wife in the establishment, and for the +complications this gave rise to, his wife would not legitimately console +him. Lucy did intercede, but Mrs. Berry, was obdurate. She averred she +would not give up the child till he was weaned. "Then, perhaps," she +said prospectively. "You see I ain't so soft as you thought for." + +"You're a very unkind, vindictive old woman," said Lucy. + +"Belike I am," Mrs. Berry was proud to agree. We like a new character, +now and then. Berry had delayed too long. + +Were it not notorious that the straightlaced prudish dare not listen to, +the natural chaste, certain things Mrs. Berry thought it advisable to +impart to the young wife with regard to Berry's infidelity, and the +charity women should have toward sinful men, might here be reproduced. +Enough that she thought proper to broach the matter, and cite her own +Christian sentiments, now that she was indifferent in some degree. + +Oily calm is on the sea. At Raynham they look up at the sky and +speculate that Richard is approaching fairly speeded. He comes to throw +himself on his darling's mercy. Lucy irradiated over forest and sea, +tempest and peace--to her the hero comes humbly. Great is that day +when we see our folly! Ripton and he were the friends of old. Richard +encouraged him to talk of the two he could be eloquent on, and Ripton, +whose secret vanity was in his powers of speech, never tired of +enumerating Lucy's virtues, and the peculiar attributes of the baby. + +"She did not say a word against me, Rip?" + +"Against you, Richard! The moment she knew she was to be a mother, she +thought of nothing but her duty to the child. She's one who can't think +of herself." + +"You've seen her at Raynham, Rip?" + +"Yes, once. They asked me down. And your father's so fond of her--I'm +sure he thinks no woman like her, and he's right. She is so lovely, and +so good." + +Richard was too full of blame of himself to blame his father: too +British to expose his emotions. Ripton divined how deep and changed they +were by his manner. He had cast aside the hero, and however Ripton had +obeyed him and looked up to him in the heroic time, he loved him tenfold +now. He told his friend how much Lucy's mere womanly sweetness and +excellence had done for him, and Richard contrasted his own profitless +extravagance with the patient beauty of his dear home angel. He was not +one to take her on the easy terms that offered. There was that to do +which made his cheek burn as he thought of it, but he was going to do +it, even though it lost her to him. Just to see her and kneel to her was +joy sufficient to sustain him, and warm his blood in the prospect. They +marked the white cliffs growing over the water. Nearer, the sun made +them lustrous. Houses and people seemed to welcome the wild youth to +common sense, simplicity, and home. + +They were in town by mid-day. Richard had a momentary idea of not +driving to his hotel for letters. After a short debate he determined +to go there. The porter said he had two letters for Mr. Richard +Feverel--one had been waiting some time. He went to the box and fetched +them. The first Richard opened was from Lucy, and as he read it, Ripton +observed the colour deepen on his face, while a quivering smile played +about his mouth. He opened the other indifferently. It began without +any form of address. Richard's forehead darkened at the signature. This +letter was in a sloping feminine hand, and flourished with light strokes +all over, like a field of the bearded barley. Thus it ran: + +"I know you are in a rage with me because I would not consent to ruin +you, you foolish fellow. What do you call it? Going to that unpleasant +place together. Thank you, my milliner is not ready yet, and I want to +make a good appearance when I do go. I suppose I shall have to some day. +Your health, Sir Richard. Now let me speak to you seriously. Go home to +your wife at once. But I know the sort of fellow you are, and I must be +plain with you. Did I ever say I loved you? You may hate me as much as +you please, but I will save you from being a fool. + +"Now listen to me. You know my relations with Mount. That beast Brayder +offered to pay all my debts and set me afloat, if I would keep you in +town. I declare on my honour I had no idea why, and I did not agree +to it. But you were such a handsome fellow--I noticed you in the park +before I heard a word of you. But then you fought shy--you were just as +tempting as a girl. You stung me. Do you know what that is? I would +make you care for me, and we know how it ended, without any intention +of mine, I swear. I'd have cut off my hand rather than do you any harm, +upon my honour. Circumstances! Then I saw it was all up between us. +Brayder came and began to chaff about you. I dealt the animal a stroke +on the face with my riding-whip--I shut him up pretty quick. Do you +think I would let a man speak about you?--I was going to swear. You see +I remember Dick's lessons. O my God! I do feel unhappy.--Brayder offered +me money. Go and think I took it, if you like. What do I care what +anybody thinks! Something that black-guard said made me suspicious. I +went down to the Isle of Wight where Mount was, and your wife was just +gone with an old lady who came and took her away. I should so have liked +to see her. You said, you remember, she would take me as a sister, and +treat me--I laughed at it then. My God! how I could cry now, if water +did any good to a devil, as you politely call poor me. I called at your +house and saw your man-servant, who said Mount had just been there. In +a minute it struck me. I was sure Mount was after a woman, but it never +struck me that woman was your wife. Then I saw why they wanted me to +keep you away. I went to Brayder. You know how I hate him. I made love +to the man to get it out of him. Richard! my word of honour, they have +planned to carry her off, if Mount finds he cannot seduce her. Talk of +devils! He's one; but he is not so bad as Brayder. I cannot forgive a +mean dog his villany. + +"Now after this, I am quite sure you are too much of a man to stop away +from her another moment. I have no more to say. I suppose we shall not +see each other again, so good-bye, Dick! I fancy I hear you cursing me. +Why can't you feel like other men on the subject? But if you were like +the rest of them I should not have cared for you a farthing. I have not +worn lilac since I saw you last. I'll be buried in your colour, Dick. +That will not offend you--will it? + +"You are not going to believe I took the money? If I thought you thought +that--it makes me feel like a devil only to fancy you think it. + +"The first time you meet Brayder, cane him publicly. + +"Adieu! Say it's because you don't like his face. I suppose devils must +not say Adieu. Here's plain old good-bye, then, between you and me. +Good-bye, dear Dick! You won't think that of me? + +"May I eat dry bread to the day of my death if I took or ever will touch +a scrap of their money. BELLA." + +Richard folded up the letter silently. + +"Jump into the cab," he said to Ripton. + +"Anything the matter, Richard?" + +"No." + +The driver received directions. Richard sat without speaking. His friend +knew that face. He asked whether there was bad news in the letter. For +answer, he had the lie circumstancial. He ventured to remark that they +were going the wrong way. + +"It'd the right way," cried Richard, and his jaws were hard and square, +and his eyes looked heavy and full. + +Ripton said no more, but thought. + +The cabman pulled up at a Club. A gentleman, in whom Ripton recognized +the Hon. Peter Brayder, was just then swinging a leg over his horse, +with one foot in the stirrup. Hearing his name called, the Hon. Peter +turned about, and stretched an affable hand. + +"Is Mountfalcon in town?" said Richard taking the horse's reins instead +of the gentlemanly hand. His voice and aspect were quite friendly. + +"Mount?" Brayder replied, curiously watching the action; "yes. He's off +this evening." + +"He is in town?" Richard released his horse. "I want to see him. Where +is he?" + +The young man looked pleasant: that which might have aroused Brayder's +suspicions was an old affair in parasitical register by this time. "Want +to see him? What about?" he said carelessly, and gave the address. + +"By the way," he sang out, "we thought of putting your name down, +Feverel." He indicated the lofty structure. "What do you say?" + +Richard nodded back at him, crying, "Hurry." Brayder returned the nod, +and those who promenaded the district soon beheld his body in elegant +motion to the stepping of his well-earned horse. + +"What do you want to see Lord Mountfalcon for, Richard?" said Ripton. + +"I just want to see him," Richard replied. + +Ripton was left in the cab at the door of my lord's residence. He had +to wait there a space of about ten minutes, when Richard returned with +a clearer visage, though somewhat heated. He stood outside the cab, and +Ripton was conscious of being examined by those strong grey eyes. As +clear as speech he understood them to say to him, "You won't do," but +which of the many things on earth he would not do for he was at a loss +to think. + +"Go down to Raynham, Ripton. Say I shall be there tonight certainly. +Don't bother me with questions. Drive off at once. Or wait. Get another +cab. I'll take this." + +Ripton was ejected, and found himself standing alone in the street. As +he was on the point of rushing after the galloping cab-horse to get a +word of elucidation, he heard some one speak behind him. + +"You are Feverel's friend?" + +Ripton had an eye for lords. An ambrosial footman, standing at the +open door of Lord Mountfalcon's house, and a gentleman standing on +the doorstep, told him that he was addressed by that nobleman. He +was requested to step into the house. When they were alone, Lord +Mountfalcon, slightly ruffled, said: "Feverel has insulted me grossly. I +must meet him, of course. It's a piece of infernal folly!--I suppose he +is not quite mad?" + +Ripton's only definite answer was, a gasping iteration of "My lord." + +My lord resumed: "I am perfectly guiltless of offending him, as far as I +know. In fact, I had a friendship for him. Is he liable to fits of this +sort of thing?" + +Not yet at conversation-point, Ripton stammered: "Fits, my lord?" + +"Ah!" went the other, eying Ripton in lordly cognizant style. "You know +nothing of this business, perhaps?" + +Ripton said he did not. + +"Have you any influence with him?" + +"Not much, my lord. Only now and then--a little." + +"You are not in the Army?" + +The question was quite unnecessary. Ripton confessed to the law, and my +lord did not look surprised. + +"I will not detain you," he said, distantly bowing. + +Ripton gave him a commoner's obeisance; but getting to the door, the +sense of the matter enlightened him. + +"It's a duel, my lord?" + +"No help for it, if his friends don't shut him up in Bedlam between this +and to-morrow morning." + +Of all horrible things a duel was the worst in Ripton's imagination. +He stood holding the handle of the door, revolving this last chapter of +calamity suddenly opened where happiness had promised. + +"A duel! but he won't, my lord,--he mustn't fight, my lord." + +"He must come on the ground," said my lord, positively. + +Ripton ejaculated unintelligible stuff. Finally Lord Mountfalcon said: +"I went out of my way, sir, in speaking to you. I saw you from the +window. Your friend is mad. Deuced methodical, I admit, but mad. I +have particular reasons to wish not to injure the young man, and if an +apology is to be got out of him when we're on the ground, I'll take it, +and we'll stop the damned scandal, if possible. You understand? I'm the +insulted party, and I shall only require of him to use formal words of +excuse to come to an amicable settlement. Let him just say he regrets +it. Now, sir," the nobleman spoke with considerable earnestness, "should +anything happen--I have the honour to be known to Mrs. Feverel--and I +beg you will tell her. I very particularly desire you to let her know +that I was not to blame." + +Mountfalcon rang the bell, and bowed him out. With this on his mind +Ripton hurried down to those who were waiting in joyful trust at +Raynham. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIV + +The watch consulted by Hippias alternately with his pulse, in occult +calculation hideous to mark, said half-past eleven on the midnight. +Adrian, wearing a composedly amused expression on his dimpled plump +face,--held slightly sideways, aloof from paper and pen,--sat writing +at the library table. Round the baronet's chair, in a semi-circle, +were Lucy, Lady Blandish, Mrs. Doria, and Ripton, that very ill bird +at Raynham. They were silent as those who question the flying minutes. +Ripton had said that Richard was sure to come; but the feminine eyes +reading him ever and anon, had gathered matter for disquietude, which +increased as time sped. Sir Austin persisted in his habitual air of +speculative repose. + +Remote as he appeared from vulgar anxiety, he was the first to speak and +betray his state. + +"Pray, put up that watch. Impatience serves nothing," he said, +half-turning hastily to his brother behind him. + +Hippias relinquished his pulse and mildly groaned: "It's no nightmare, +this!" + +His remark was unheard, and the bearing of it remained obscure. Adrian's +pen made a louder flourish on his manuscript; whether in commiseration +or infernal glee, none might say. + +"What are you writing?" the baronet inquired testily of Adrian, after +a pause; twitched, it may be, by a sort of jealousy of the wise youth's +coolness. + +"Do I disturb you, sir?" rejoined Adrian. "I am engaged on a portion +of a Proposal for uniting the Empires and Kingdoms of Europe under one +Paternal Head, on the model of the ever-to-be-admired and lamented Holy +Roman. This treats of the management of Youths and Maids, and of certain +magisterial functions connected therewith. 'It is decreed that these +officers be all and every men of science,' etc." And Adrian cheerily +drove his pen afresh. + +Mrs. Doria took Lucy's hand, mutely addressing encouragement to her, and +Lucy brought as much of a smile as she could command to reply with. + +"I fear we must give him up to-night," observed Lady Blandish. + +"If he said he would come, he will come," Sir Austin interjected. +Between him and the lady there was something of a contest secretly going +on. He was conscious that nothing save perfect success would now hold +this self-emancipating mind. She had seen him through. + +"He declared to me he would be certain to come," said Ripton; but he +could look at none of them as he said it, for he was growing aware +that Richard might have deceived him, and was feeling like a black +conspirator against their happiness. He determined to tell the baronet +what he knew, if Richard did not come by twelve. + +"What is the time?" he asked Hippias in a modest voice. + +"Time for me to be in bed," growled Hippias, as if everybody present had +been treating him badly. + +Mrs. Berry came in to apprise Lucy that she was wanted above. She +quietly rose. Sir Austin kissed her on the forehead, saying: "You had +better not come down again, my child." She kept her eyes on him. "Oblige +me by retiring for the night," he added. Lucy shook their hands, and +went out, accompanied by Mrs. Doria. + +"This agitation will be bad for the child," he said, speaking to himself +aloud. + +Lady Blandish remarked: "I think she might just as well have returned. +She will not sleep." + +"She will control herself for the child's sake." + +"You ask too much of her." + +"Of her, not," he emphasized. + +It was twelve o'clock when Hippies shut his watch, and said with +vehemence: "I'm convinced my circulation gradually and steadily +decreases!" + +"Going back to the pre-Harvey period!" murmured Adrian as he wrote. + +Sir Austin and Lady Blandish knew well that any comment would introduce +them to the interior of his machinery, the eternal view of which was +sufficiently harrowing; so they maintained a discreet reserve. Taking +it for acquiescence in his deplorable condition, Hippies resumed +despairingly: "It's a fact. I've brought you to see that. No one can be +more moderate than I am, and yet I get worse. My system is organically +sound--I believe: I do every possible thing, and yet I get worse. Nature +never forgives! I'll go to bed." + +The Dyspepsy departed unconsoled. + +Sir Austin took up his brother's thought: "I suppose nothing short of a +miracle helps us when we have offended her." + +"Nothing short of a quack satisfies us," said Adrian, applying wax to an +envelope of official dimensions. + +Ripton sat accusing his soul of cowardice while they talked; haunted by +Lucy's last look at him. He got up his courage presently and went round +to Adrian, who, after a few whispered words, deliberately rose and +accompanied him out of the room, shrugging. When they had gone, Lady +Blandish said to the baronet: "He is not coming." + +"To-morrow, then, if not tonight," he replied. "But I say he will come +to-night." + +"You do really wish to see him united to his wife?" + +The question made the baronet raise his brows with some displeasure. + +"Can you ask me?" + +"I mean," said, the ungenerous woman, "your System will require no +further sacrifices from either of them?" + +When he did answer, it was to say: "I think her altogether a superior +person. I confess I should scarcely have hoped to find one like her." + +"Admit that your science does not accomplish everything." + +"No: it was presumptuous--beyond a certain point," said the baronet, +meaning deep things. + +Lady Blandish eyed him. "Ah me!" she sighed, "if we would always be true +to our own wisdom!" + +"You are very singular to-night, Emmeline." Sir Austin stopped his walk +in front of her. + +In truth, was she not unjust? Here was an offending son freely forgiven. +Here was a young woman of humble birth, freely accepted into his family +and permitted to stand upon her qualities. Who would have done more--or +as much? This lady, for instance, had the case been hers, would have +fought it. All the people of position that he was acquainted with would +have fought it, and that without feeling it so peculiarly. But while the +baronet thought this, he did not think of the exceptional education his +son had received. He, took the common ground of fathers, forgetting his +System when it was absolutely on trial. False to his son it could not be +said that he had been false to his System he was. Others saw it plainly, +but he had to learn his lesson by and by. + +Lady Blandish gave him her face; then stretched her hand to the table, +saying, "Well! well!" She fingered a half-opened parcel lying there, and +drew forth a little book she recognized. "Ha! what is this?" she said. + +"Benson returned it this morning," he informed her. "The stupid fellow +took it away with him--by mischance, I am bound to believe." + +It was nothing other than the old Note-book. Lady Blandish turned over +the leaves, and came upon the later jottings. + +She read: "A maker of Proverbs--what is he but a narrow mind with the +mouthpiece of narrower?" + +"I do not agree with that," she observed. He was in no humour for +argument. + +"Was your humility feigned when you wrote it?" + +He merely said: "Consider the sort of minds influenced by set sayings. +A proverb is the half-way-house to an Idea, I conceive; and the majority +rest there content: can the keeper of such a house be flattered by his +company?" + +She felt her feminine intelligence swaying under him again. There +must be greatness in a man who could thus speak of his own special and +admirable aptitude. + +Further she read, "Which is the coward among us?--He who sneers at the +failings of Humanity!" + +"Oh! that is true! How much I admire that!" cried the dark-eyed dame as +she beamed intellectual raptures. + +Another Aphorism seemed closely to apply to him: "There is no more +grievous sight, as there is no greater perversion, than a wise man at +the mercy of his feelings." + +"He must have written it," she thought, "when he had himself for an +example--strange man that he is!" + +Lady Blandish was still inclined to submission, though decidedly +insubordinate. She had once been fairly conquered: but if what she +reverenced as a great mind could conquer her, it must be a great +man that should hold her captive. The Autumn Primrose blooms for the +loftiest manhood; is a vindictive flower in lesser hands. Nevertheless +Sir Austin had only to be successful, and this lady's allegiance was his +for ever. The trial was at hand. + +She said again: "He is not coming to-night," and the baronet, on whose +visage a contemplative pleased look had been rising for a minute past, +quietly added: "He is come." + +Richard's voice was heard in the hall. + +There was commotion all over the house at the return of the young heir. +Berry, seizing every possible occasion to approach his Bessy now that +her involuntary coldness had enhanced her value--"Such is men!" as the +soft woman reflected--Berry ascended to her and delivered the news in +pompous tones and wheedling gestures. "The best word you've spoke for +many a day," says she, and leaves him unfee'd, in an attitude, to hurry +and pour bliss into Lucy's ears. + +"Lord be praised!" she entered the adjoining room exclaiming, "we're got +to be happy at last. They men have come to their senses. I could cry to +your Virgin and kiss your Cross, you sweet!" + +"Hush!" Lucy admonished her, and crooned over the child on her knees. +The tiny open hands, full of sleep, clutched; the large blue eyes +started awake; and his mother, all trembling and palpitating, knowing, +but thirsting to hear it, covered him with her tresses, and tried to +still her frame, and rocked, and sang low, interdicting even a whisper +from bursting Mrs. Berry. + +Richard had come. He was under his father's roof, in the old home that +had so soon grown foreign to him. He stood close to his wife and child. +He might embrace them both: and now the fulness of his anguish and +the madness of the thing he had done smote the young man: now first he +tasted hard earthly misery. + +Had not God spoken to him in the tempest? Had not the finger of heaven +directed him homeward? And he had come: here he stood: congratulations +were thick in his ears: the cup of happiness was held to him, and he was +invited to drink of it. Which was the dream? his work for the morrow, or +this? But for a leaden load that he felt like a bullet in his breast, +he might have thought the morrow with death sitting on it was the dream. +Yes; he was awake. Now first the cloud of phantasms cleared away: he +beheld his real life, and the colours of true human joy: and on the +morrow perhaps he was to close his eyes on them. That leaden bullet +dispersed all unrealities. + +They stood about him in the hall, his father, Lady Blandish, Mrs. Doria, +Adrian, Ripton; people who had known him long. They shook his hand: they +gave him greetings he had never before understood the worth of or the +meaning. Now that he did they mocked him. There was Mrs. Berry in +the background bobbing, there was Martin Berry bowing, there was Tom +Bakewell grinning. Somehow he loved the sight of these better. + +"Ah, my old Penelope!" he said, breaking through the circle of his +relatives to go to her. "Tom! how are you?" + +"Bless ye, my Mr. Richard," whimpered Mrs. Berry, and whispered, rosily, +"all's agreeable now. She's waiting up in bed for ye, like a new-born." + +The person who betrayed most agitation was, Mrs. Doria. She held +close to him, and eagerly studied his face and every movement, as one +accustomed to masks. "You are pale, Richard?" He pleaded exhaustion. +"What detained you, dear?" "Business," he said. She drew him imperiously +apart from the others. "Richard! is it over?" He asked what she meant. +"The dreadful duel, Richard." He looked darkly. "Is it over? is it done, +Richard?" Getting no immediate answer, she continued--and such was her +agitation that the words were shaken by pieces from her mouth: "Don't +pretend not to understand me, Richard! Is it over? Are you going to die +the death of my child--Clare's death? Is not one in a family enough? +Think of your dear young wife--we love her so!--your child!--your +father! Will you kill us all?" + +Mrs. Doria had chanced to overhear a trifle of Ripton's communication to +Adrian, and had built thereon with the dark forces of a stricken soul. + +Wondering how this woman could have divined it, Richard calmly said: +"It's arranged--the matter you allude to." + +"Indeed!--truly, dear?" + +"Yes." + +"Tell me"--but he broke away from her, saying: "You shall hear the +particulars to-morrow," and she, not alive to double meaning just then, +allowed him to leave her. + +He had eaten nothing for twelve hours, and called for food, but he +would take only dry bread and claret, which was served on a tray in the +library. He said, without any show of feeling, that he must eat before +he saw the young hope of Raynham: so there he sat, breaking bread, and +eating great mouthfuls, and washing them down with wine, talking of what +they would. His father's studious mind felt itself years behind him, he +was so completely altered. He had the precision of speech, the bearing +of a man of thirty. Indeed he had all that the necessity for cloaking an +infinite misery gives. But let things be as they might, he was, there. +For one night in his life Sir Austin's perspective of the future was +bounded by the night. + +"Will your go to your wife now?" he had asked and Richard had replied +with a strange indifference. The baronet thought it better that their +meeting should be private, and sent word for Lucy to wait upstairs. The +others perceived that father and son should now be left alone. Adrian +went up to him, and said: "I can no longer witness this painful sight, +so Good-night, Sir Famish! You may cheat yourself into the belief that +you've made a meal, but depend upon it your progeny--and it threatens +to be numerous--will cry aloud and rue the day. Nature never forgives! +A lost dinner can never be replaced! Good-night, my dear boy. And +here--oblige me by taking this," he handed Richard the enormous envelope +containing what he had written that evening. "Credentials!" he exclaimed +humorously, slapping Richard on the shoulder. Ripton heard also the +words "propagator--species," but had no idea of their import. The wise +youth looked: You see we've made matters all right for you here, and +quitted the room on that unusual gleam of earnestness. + +Richard shook his hand, and Ripton's. Then Lady Blandish said her +good-night, praising Lucy, and promising to pray for their mutual +happiness. The two men who knew what was hanging over him, spoke +together outside. Ripton was for getting a positive assurance that the +duel would not be fought, but Adrian said: "Time enough tomorrow. He's +safe enough while he's here. I'll stop it to-morrow:" ending with banter +of Ripton and allusions to his adventures with Miss Random, which must, +Adrian said, have led him into many affairs of the sort. Certainly +Richard was there, and while he was there he must be safe. So thought +Ripton, and went to his bed. Mrs. Doria deliberated likewise, and +likewise thought him safe while he was there. For once in her life she +thought it better not to trust to her instinct, for fear of useless +disturbance where peace should be. So she said not a syllable of it to +her brother. She only looked more deeply into Richard's eyes, as she +kissed him, praising Lucy. "I have found a second daughter in her, dear. +Oh! may you both be happy!" + +They all praised Lucy, now. His father commenced the moment they were +alone. "Poor Helen! Your wife has been a great comfort to her, Richard. +I think Helen must have sunk without her. So lovely a young person, +possessing mental faculty, and a conscience for her duties, I have never +before met." + +He wished to gratify his son by these eulogies of Lucy, and some hours +back he would have succeeded. Now it had the contrary effect. + +"You compliment me on my choice, sir?" + +Richard spoke sedately, but the irony was perceptible and he could speak +no other way, his bitterness was so intense. + +"I think you very fortunate," said his father. + +Sensitive to tone and manner as he was, his ebullition of paternal +feeling was frozen. Richard did not approach him. He leaned against the +chimney-piece, glancing at the floor, and lifting his eyes only when he +spoke. Fortunate! very fortunate! As he revolved his later history, and +remembered how clearly he had seen that his father must love Lucy if he +but knew her, and remembered his efforts to persuade her to come with +him, a sting of miserable rage blackened his brain. But could he blame +that gentle soul? Whom could he blame? Himself? Not utterly. His father? +Yes, and no. The blame was here, the blame was there: it was everywhere +and nowhere, and the young man cast it on the Fates, and looked angrily +at heaven, and grew reckless. + +"Richard," said his father, coming close to him, "it is late to-night. +I do not wish Lucy to remain in expectation longer, or I should have +explained myself to you thoroughly, and I think--or at least hope--you +would have justified me. I had cause to believe that you had not only +violated my confidence, but grossly deceived me. It was not so, I now +know. I was mistaken. Much of our misunderstanding has resulted from +that mistake. But you were married--a boy: you knew nothing of the +world, little of yourself. To save you in after-life--for there is +a period when mature men and women who have married young are more +impelled to temptation than in youth,--though not so exposed to it,--to +save you, I say, I decreed that you should experience self-denial and +learn something of your fellows of both sexes, before settling into a +state that must have been otherwise precarious, however excellent the +woman who is your mate. My System with you would have been otherwise +imperfect, and you would have felt the effects of it. It is over now. +You are a man. The dangers to which your nature was open are, I trust, +at an end. I wish you to be happy, and I give you both my blessing, and +pray God to conduct and strengthen you both." + +Sir Austin's mind was unconscious of not having spoken devoutly. True +or not, his words were idle to his son: his talk of dangers over, and +happiness, mockery. + +Richard coldly took his father's extended hand. + +"We will go to her," said the baronet. "I will leave you at her door." + +Not moving: looking fixedly at his father with a hard face on which the +colour rushed, Richard said: "A husband who has been unfaithful to his +wife may go to her there, sir?" + +It was horrible, it was cruel: Richard knew that. He wanted no advice on +such a matter, having fully resolved what to do. Yesterday he would have +listened to his father, and blamed himself alone, and done what was to +be done humbly before God and her: now in the recklessness of his misery +he had as little pity for any other soul as for his own. Sir Austin's +brows were deep drawn down. + +"What did you say, Richard?" + +Clearly his intelligence had taken it, but this--the worst he could +hear--this that he had dreaded once and doubted, and smoothed over, and +cast aside--could it be? + +Richard said: "I told you all but the very words when we last parted. +What else do you think would have kept me from her?" + +Angered at his callous aspect, his father cried: "What brings you to her +now?" + +"That will be between us two," was the reply. + +Sir Austin fell into his chair. Meditation was impossible. He spoke from +a wrathful heart: "You will not dare to take her without"-- + +"No, sir," Richard interrupted him, "I shall not. Have no fear." + +"Then you did not love your wife?" + +"Did I not?" A smile passed faintly over Richard's face. + +"Did you care so much for this--this other person?" + +"So much? If you ask me whether I had affection for her, I can say I had +none." + +O base human nature! Then how? then why? A thousand questions rose in +the baronet's mind. Bessy Berry could have answered them every one. + +"Poor child! poor child!" he apostrophized Lucy, pacing the room. +Thinking of her, knowing her deep love for his son--her true forgiving +heart--it seemed she should be spared this misery. + +He proposed to Richard to spare her. Vast is the distinction between +women and men in this one sin, he said, and supported it with physical +and moral citations. His argument carried him so far, that to hear him +one would have imagined he thought the sin in men small indeed. His +words were idle. + +"She must know it," said Richard, sternly. "I will go to her now, sir, +if you please." + +Sir Austin detained him, expostulated, contradicted himself, confounded +his principles, made nonsense of all his theories. He could not induce +his son to waver in his resolve. Ultimately, their good-night being +interchanged, he understood that the happiness of Raynham depended on +Lucy's mercy. He had no fears of her sweet heart, but it was a strange +thing to have come to. On which should the accusation fall--on science, +or on human nature? + +He remained in the library pondering over the question, at times +breathing contempt for his son, and again seized with unwonted suspicion +of his own wisdom: troubled, much to be pitied, even if he deserved that +blow from his son which had plunged him into wretchedness. Richard went +straight to Tom Bakewell, roused the heavy sleeper, and told him to +have his mare saddled and waiting at the park gates East within an +hour. Tom's nearest approach to a hero was to be a faithful slave to his +master, and in doing this he acted to his conception of that high and +glorious character. He got up and heroically dashed his head into cold +water. "She shall be ready, sir," he nodded. + +"Tom! if you don't see me back here at Raynham, your money will go on +being paid to you." + +"Rather see you than the money, Mr. Richard," said Tom. + +"And you will always watch and see no harm comes to her, Tom." + +"Mrs. Richard, sir?" Tom stared. "God bless me, Mr. Richard"-- + +"No questions. You'll do what I say." + +"Ay, sir; that I will. Did'n Isle o' Wight." + +The very name of the Island shocked Richard's blood; and he had to +walk up and down before he could knock at Lucy's door. That infamous +conspiracy to which he owed his degradation and misery scarce left him +the feelings of a man when he thought of it. + +The soft beloved voice responded to his knock. He opened the door, +and stood before her. Lucy was half-way toward him. In the moment that +passed ere she was in his arms, he had time to observe the change in +her. He had left her a girl: he beheld a woman--a blooming woman: for +pale at first, no sooner did she see him than the colour was rich +and deep on her face and neck and bosom half shown through the loose +dressing-robe, and the sense of her exceeding beauty made his heart +thump and his eyes swim. + +"My darling!" each cried, and they clung together, and her mouth was +fastened on his. + +They spoke no more. His soul was drowned in her kiss. Supporting her, +whose strength was gone, he, almost as weak as she, hung over her, +and clasped her closer, closer, till they were as one body, and in the +oblivion her lips put upon him he was free to the bliss of her embrace. +Heaven granted him that. He placed her in a chair and knelt at her feet +with both arms around her. Her bosom heaved; her eyes never quitted +him: their light as the light on a rolling wave. This young creature, +commonly so frank and straightforward, was broken with bashfulness in +her husband's arms--womanly bashfulness on the torrent of womanly +love; tenfold more seductive than the bashfulness of girlhood. Terrible +tenfold the loss of her seemed now, as distantly--far on the horizon of +memory--the fatal truth returned to him. + +Lose her? lose this? He looked up as if to ask God to confirm it. + +The same sweet blue eyes! the eyes that he had often seen in the dying +glories of evening; on him they dwelt, shifting, and fluttering, and +glittering, but constant: the light of them as the light on a rolling +wave. + +And true to him! true, good, glorious, as the angels of heaven! And his +she was! a woman--his wife! The temptation to take her, and be dumb, was +all powerful: the wish to die against her bosom so strong as to be the +prayer of his vital forces. Again he strained her to him, but this +time it was as a robber grasps priceless treasure--with exultation +and defiance. One instant of this. Lucy, whose pure tenderness had now +surmounted the first wild passion of their meeting, bent back her head +from her surrendered body, and said almost voicelessly, her underlids +wistfully quivering: "Come and see him--baby;" and then in great hope of +the happiness she was going to give her husband, and share with him, and +in tremour and doubt of what his feelings would be, she blushed, and +her brows worked: she tried to throw off the strangeness of a year of +separation, misunderstanding, and uncertainty. + +"Darling! come and see him. He is here." She spoke more clearly, though +no louder. + +Richard had released her, and she took his hand, and he suffered +himself to be led to the other side of the bed. His heart began rapidly +throbbing at the sight of a little rosy-curtained cot covered with lace +like milky summer cloud. + +It seemed to him he would lose his manhood if he looked on that child's +face. + +"Stop!" he cried suddenly. + +Lucy turned first to him, and then to her infant, fearing it should have +been disturbed. + +"Lucy, come back." + +"What is it, darling?" said she, in alarm at his voice and the grip he +had unwittingly given her hand. + +O God! what an Ordeal was this! that to-morrow he must face death, +perhaps die and be torn from his darling--his wife and his child; and +that ere he went forth, ere he could dare to see his child and lean his +head reproachfully on his young wife's breast--for the last time, it +might be--he must stab her to the heart, shatter the image she held of +him. + +"Lucy!" She saw him wrenched with agony, and her own face took the +whiteness of his--she bending forward to him, all her faculties strung +to hearing. + +He held her two hands that she might look on him and not spare the +horrible wound he was going to lay open to her eyes. + +"Lucy. Do you know why I came to you to-night?" + +She moved her lips repeating his words. + +"Lucy. Have you guessed why I did not come before?" + +Her head shook widened eyes. + +"Lucy. I did not come because I was not worthy of my wife! Do you +understand?" + +"Darling," she faltered plaintively, and hung crouching under him, "what +have I done to make you angry with me?" + +"O beloved!" cried he, the tears bursting out of his eyes. "O beloved!" +was all he could say, kissing her hands passionately. + +She waited, reassured, but in terror. + +"Lucy. I stayed away from you--I could not come to you, because... I +dared not come to you, my wife, my beloved! I could not come because I +was a coward: because--hear me--this was the reason: I have broken my +marriage oath." + +Again her lips moved. She caught at a dim fleshless meaning in them. +"But you love me? Richard! My husband! you love me?" + +"Yes. I have never loved, I never shall love, woman but you." + +"Darling! Kiss me." + +"Have you understood what I have told you?" + +"Kiss me," she said. + +He did not join lips. "I have come to you to-night to ask your +forgiveness." + +Her answer was: "Kiss me." + +"Can you forgive a man so base?" + +"But you love me, Richard?" + +"Yes: that I can say before God. I love you, and I have betrayed you, +and am unworthy of you--not worthy to touch your hand, to kneel at your +feet, to breathe the same air with you." + +Her eyes shone brilliantly. "You love me! you love me, darling!" And +as one who has sailed through dark fears into daylight, she said: "My +husband! my darling! you will never leave me? We never shall be parted +again?" + +He drew his breath painfully. To smooth her face growing rigid with +fresh fears at his silence, he met her mouth. That kiss in which she +spoke what her soul had to say, calmed her, and she smiled happily from +it, and in her manner reminded him of his first vision of her on the +summer morning in the field of the meadow-sweet. He held her to him, +and thought then of a holier picture: of Mother and Child: of the sweet +wonders of life she had made real to him. + +Had he not absolved his conscience? At least the pangs to come made him +think so. He now followed her leading hand. Lucy whispered: "You mustn't +disturb him--mustn't touch him, dear!" and with dainty fingers drew off +the covering to the little shoulder. One arm of the child was out along +the pillow; the small hand open. His baby-mouth was pouted full; the +dark lashes of his eyes seemed to lie on his plump cheeks. Richard +stooped lower down to him, hungering for some movement as a sign that he +lived. Lucy whispered. "He sleeps like you, Richard--one arm under +his head." Great wonder, and the stir of a grasping tenderness was in +Richard. He breathed quick and soft, bending lower, till Lucy's curls, +as she nestled and bent with him, rolled on the crimson quilt of the +cot. A smile went up the plump cheeks: forthwith the bud of a mouth was +in rapid motion. The young mother whispered, blushing: "He's dreaming of +me," and the simple words did more than Richard's eyes to make him see +what was. Then Lucy began to hum and buzz sweet baby-language, and +some of the tiny fingers stirred, and he made as if to change his cosy +position, but reconsidered, and deferred it, with a peaceful little +sigh. Lucy whispered: "He is such a big fellow. Oh! when you see him +awake he is so like you, Richard." + +He did not hear her immediately: it seemed a bit of heaven dropped there +in his likeness: the more human the fact of the child grew the more +heavenly it seemed. His son! his child! should he ever see him awake? +At the thought, he took the words that had been spoken, and started from +the dream he had been in. "Will he wake soon, Lucy?" + +"Oh no! not yet, dear: not for hours. I would have kept him awake for +you, but he was so sleepy." + +Richard stood back from the cot. He thought that if he saw the eyes of +his boy, and had him once on his heart, he never should have force to +leave him. Then he looked down on him, again struggled to tear himself +away. Two natures warred in his bosom, or it may have been the Magian +Conflict still going on. He had come to see his child once and to make +peace with his wife before it should be too late. Might he not stop +with them? Might he not relinquish that devilish pledge? Was not divine +happiness here offered to him?--If foolish Ripton had not delayed to +tell him of his interview with Mountfalcon all might have been well. But +pride said it was impossible. And then injury spoke. For why was he +thus base and spotted to the darling of his love? A mad pleasure in the +prospect of wreaking vengeance on the villain who had laid the trap for +him, once more blackened his brain. If he would stay he could not. So +he resolved, throwing the burden on Fate. The struggle was over, but oh, +the pain! + +Lucy beheld the tears streaming hot from his face on the child's cot. +She marvelled at such excess of emotion. But when his chest heaved, and +the extremity of mortal anguish appeared to have seized him, her heart +sank, and she tried to get him in her arms. He turned away from her and +went to the window. A half-moon was over the lake. + +"Look!" he said, "do you remember our rowing there one night, and we saw +the shadow of the cypress? I wish I could have come early to-night that +we might have had another row, and I have heard you sing there!" + +"Darling!" said she, "will it make you happier if I go with you now? I +will." + +"No, Lucy. Lucy, you are brave!" + +"Oh, no! that I'm not. I thought so once. I know I am not now." + +"Yes! to have lived--the child on your heart--and never to have uttered +a complaint!--you are brave. O my Lucy! my wife! you that have made +me man! I called you a coward. I remember it. I was the coward--I the +wretched vain fool! Darling! I am going to leave you now. You are brave, +and you will bear it. Listen: in two days, or three, I may be back--back +for good, if you will accept me. Promise me to go to bed quietly. Kiss +the child for me, and tell him his father has seen him. He will learn to +speak soon. Will he soon speak, Lucy?" + +Dreadful suspicion kept her speechless; she could only clutch one arm of +his with both her hands. + +"Going?" she presently gasped. + +"For two or three days. No more--I hope." + +"To-night?" + +"Yes. Now." + +"Going now? my husband!" her faculties abandoned her. + +"You will be brave, my Lucy!" + +"Richard! my darling husband! Going? What is it takes you from me?" But +questioning no further, she fell on her knees, and cried piteously +to him to stay--not to leave them. Then she dragged him to the little +sleeper, and urged him to pray by his side, and he did, but rose +abruptly from his prayer when he had muttered a few broken words--she +praying on with tight-strung nerves, in the faith that what she said to +the interceding Mother above would be stronger than human hands on him. +Nor could he go while she knelt there. + +And he wavered. He had not reckoned on her terrible suffering. She +came to him, quiet. "I knew you would remain." And taking his hand, +innocently fondling it: "Am I so changed from her he loved? You will not +leave me, dear?" But dread returned, and the words quavered as she spoke +them. + +He was almost vanquished by the loveliness of her womanhood. She drew +his hand to her heart, and strained it there under one breast. "Come: +lie on my heart," she murmured with a smile of holy sweetness. + +He wavered more, and drooped to her, but summoning the powers of hell, +kissed her suddenly, cried the words of parting, and hurried to the +door. It was over in an instant. She cried out his name, clinging to him +wildly, and was adjured to be brave, for he would be dishonoured if he +did not go. Then she was shaken off. + +Mrs. Berry was aroused by an unusual prolonged wailing of the child, +which showed that no one was comforting it, and failing to get any +answer to her applications for admittance, she made bold to enter. There +she saw Lucy, the child in her lap, sitting on the floor senseless:--she +had taken it from its sleep and tried to follow her husband with it as +her strongest appeal to him, and had fainted. + +"Oh my! oh my!" Mrs. Berry moaned, "and I just now thinkin' they was so +happy!" + +Warming and caressing the poor infant, she managed by degrees to revive +Lucy, and heard what had brought her to that situation. + +"Go to his father," said Mrs. Berry. "Ta-te-tiddle-te-heighty-O! Go, my +love, and every horse in Raynham shall be out after 'm. This is what men +brings us to! Heighty-oighty-iddlety-Ah! Or you take blessed baby, and +I'll go." + +The baronet himself knocked at the door. "What is this?" he said. "I +heard a noise and a step descend." + +"It's Mr. Richard have gone, Sir Austin! have gone from his wife and +babe! Rum-te-um-te-iddledy--Oh, my goodness! what sorrow's come on us!" +and Mrs. Berry wept, and sang to baby, and baby cried vehemently, and +Lucy, sobbing, took him and danced him and sang to him with drawn lips +and tears dropping over him. And if the Scientific Humanist to the day +of his death forgets the sight of those two poor true women jigging on +their wretched hearts to calm the child, he must have very little of the +human in him. + +There was no more sleep for Raynham that night. + + + + +CHAPTER XLV + +"His ordeal is over. I have just come from his room and seen him bear +the worst that could be. Return at once--he has asked for you. I can +hardly write intelligibly, but I will tell you what we know. + +"Two days after the dreadful night when he left us, his father heard +from Ralph Morton. Richard had fought a duel in France with Lord +Mountfalcon, and was lying wounded at a hamlet on the coast. His father +started immediately with his poor wife, and I followed in company with +his aunt and his child. The wound was not dangerous. He was shot in the +side somewhere, but the ball injured no vital part. We thought all would +be well. Oh! how sick I am of theories, and Systems, and the pretensions +of men! There was his son lying all but dead, and the man was still +unconvinced of the folly he had been guilty of. I could hardly bear the +sight of his composure. I shall hate the name of Science till the day I +die. Give me nothing but commonplace unpretending people! + +"They were at a wretched French cabaret, smelling vilely, where we still +remain, and the people try as much as they can do to compensate for +our discomforts by their kindness. The French poor people are very +considerate where they see suffering. I will say that for them. The +doctors had not allowed his poor Lucy to go near him. She sat outside +his door, and none of us dared disturb her. That was a sight for +Science. His father and myself, and Mrs. Berry, were the only ones +permitted to wait on him, and whenever we came out, there she sat, not +speaking a word--for she had been told it would endanger his life--but +she looked such awful eagerness. She had the sort of eye I fancy mad +persons have. I was sure her reason was going. We did everything we +could think of to comfort her. A bed was made up for her and her meals +were brought to her there. Of course there was no getting her to eat. +What do you suppose his alarm was fixed on? He absolutely said to +me--but I have not patience to repeat his words. He thought her to blame +for not commanding herself for the sake of her maternal duties. He had +absolutely an idea of insisting that she should make an effort to suckle +the child. I shall love that Mrs. Berry to the end of my days. I really +believe she has twice the sense of any of us--Science and all. She asked +him plainly if he wished to poison the child, and then he gave way, but +with a bad grace. + +"Poor man! perhaps I am hard on him. I remember that you said Richard +had done wrong. Yes; well, that may be. But his father eclipsed his +wrong in a greater wrong--a crime, or quite as bad; for if he deceived +himself in the belief that he was acting righteously in separating +husband and wife, and exposing his son as he did, I can only say that +there are some who are worse than people who deliberately commit crimes. +No doubt Science will benefit by it. They kill little animals for the +sake of Science. + +"We have with us Doctor Bairam, and a French physician from Dieppe, a +very skilful man. It was he who told us where the real danger lay. We +thought all would be well. A week had passed, and no fever supervened. +We told Richard that his wife was coming to him, and he could bear +to hear it. I went to her and began to circumlocute, thinking she +listened--she had the same eager look. When I told her she might go +in with me to see her dear husband, her features did not change. M. +Despres, who held her pulse at the time, told me, in a whisper, it was +cerebral fever--brain fever coming on. We have talked of her since. I +noticed that though she did not seem to understand me, her bosom heaved, +and she appeared to be trying to repress it, and choke something. I +am sure now, from what I know of her character, that she--even in the +approaches of delirium--was preventing herself from crying out. Her last +hold of reason was a thought for Richard. It was against a creature like +this that we plotted! I have the comfort of knowing that I did my +share in helping to destroy her. Had she seen her husband a day or two +before--but no! there was a new System to interdict that! Or had she not +so violently controlled her nature as she did, I believe she might have +been saved. + +"He said once of a man, that his conscience was a coxcomb. Will you +believe that when he saw his son's wife--poor victim! lying delirious, +he could not even then see his error. You said he wished to take +Providence out of God's hands. His mad self-deceit would not leave him. +I am positive, that while he was standing over her, he was blaming her +for not having considered the child. Indeed he made a remark to me that +it was unfortunate 'disastrous,' I think he said--that the child should +have to be fed by hand. I dare say it is. All I pray is that this young +child may be saved from him. I cannot bear to see him look on it. He +does not spare himself bodily fatigue--but what is that? that is the +vulgarest form of love. I know what you will say. You will say I have +lost all charity, and I have. But I should not feel so, Austin, if I +could be quite sure that he is an altered man even now the blow has +struck him. He is reserved and simple in his speech, and his grief is +evident, but I have doubts. He heard her while she was senseless call +him cruel and harsh, and cry that she had suffered, and I saw then his +mouth contract as if he had been touched. Perhaps, when he thinks, his +mind will be clearer, but what he has done cannot be undone. I do not +imagine he will abuse women any more. The doctor called her a 'forte +et belle jeune femme:' and he said she was as noble a soul as ever God +moulded clay upon. A noble soul 'forte et belle!' She lies upstairs. +If he can look on her and not see his sin, I almost fear God will never +enlighten him." + +She died five days after she had been removed. The shock had utterly +deranged her. I was with her. She died very quietly, breathing her last +breath without pain--asking for no one--a death I should like to die. + +"Her cries at one time were dreadfully loud. She screamed that she was +'drowning in fire,' and that her husband would not come to her to save +her. We deadened the sound as much as we could, but it was impossible +to prevent Richard from hearing. He knew her voice, and it produced an +effect like fever on him. Whenever she called he answered. You could not +hear them without weeping. Mrs. Berry sat with her, and I sat with him, +and his father moved from one to the other. + +"But the trial for us came when she was gone. How to communicate it to +Richard--or whether to do so at all! His father consulted with us. We +were quite decided that it would be madness to breathe it while he +was in that state. I can admit now--as things have turned out--we were +wrong. His father left us--I believe he spent the time in prayer--and +then leaning on me, he went to Richard, and said in so many words, +that his Lucy was no more. I thought it must kill him. He listened, and +smiled. I never saw a smile so sweet and so sad. He said he had seen her +die, as if he had passed through his suffering a long time ago. He +shut his eyes. I could see by the motion of his eyeballs up that he was +straining his sight to some inner heaven.--I cannot go on. + +"I think Richard is safe. Had we postponed the tidings, till he came +to his clear senses, it must have killed him. His father was right +for once, then. But if he has saved his son's body, he has given the +death-blow to his heart. Richard will never be what he promised. + +"A letter found on his clothes tells us the origin of the quarrel. I +have had an interview with Lord M. this morning. I cannot say I think +him exactly to blame: Richard forced him to fight. At least I do not +select him the foremost for blame. He was deeply and sincerely affected +by the calamity he has caused. Alas! he was only an instrument. +Your poor aunt is utterly prostrate and talks strange things of her +daughter's death. She is only happy in drudging. Dr. Bairam says we +must under any circumstances keep her employed. Whilst she is doing +something, she can chat freely, but the moment her hands are not +occupied she gives me an idea that she is going into a fit. + +"We expect the dear child's uncle to-day. Mr. Thompson is here. I have +taken him upstairs to look at her. That poor young man has a true heart. + +"Come at once. You will not be in time to see her. She will lie at +Raynham. If you could you would see an angel. He sits by her side for +hours. I can give you no description of her beauty. + +"You will not delay, I know, dear Austin, and I want you, for your +presence will make me more charitable than I find it possible to be. +Have you noticed the expression in the eyes of blind men? That is just +how Richard looks, as he lies there silent in his bed--striving to image +her on his brain." + +THE END + + + + + ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS + + A woman who has mastered sauces sits on the apex of civilization + A style of affable omnipotence about the wise youth + A maker of Proverbs--what is he but a narrow mind wit + A young philosopher's an old fool! + After five years of marriage, and twelve of friendship + Although it blew hard when Caesar crossed the Rubicon + Among boys there are laws of honour and chivalrous codes + An edge to his smile that cuts much like a sneer + And so Farewell my young Ambition! and with it farewell all true + And to these instructions he gave an aim: "First be virtuous" + As when nations are secretly preparing for war + Behold the hero embarked in the redemption of an erring beauty + Cold charity to all + Come prepared to be not very well satisfied with anything + Complacent languor of the wise youth + Feeling, nothing beyond a lively interest in her well-being + Further she read, "Which is the coward among us?" + Gentleman who does so much 'cause he says so little + Habit had legalized his union with her + Hermits enamoured of wind and rain + Hero embarked in the redemption of an erring beautiful woman + Heroine, in common with the hero, has her ambition to be of use + His equanimity was fictitious + His fancy performed miraculous feats + How many instruments cannot clever women play upon + Huntress with few scruples and the game unguarded + I rather like to hear a woman swear. It embellishes her! + I beg of my husband, and all kind people who may have the care + I ain't a speeder of matrimony + I cannot get on with Gibbon + In our House, my son, there is peculiar blood. We go to wreck! + In Sir Austin's Note-book was written: "Between Simple Boyhood..." + Intensely communicative, but inarticulate + It was his ill luck to have strong appetites and a weak stomach + It is no use trying to conceal anything from him + It was now, as Sir Austin had written it down, The Magnetic Age + January was watering and freezing old earth by turns + Just bad inquirin' too close among men + Laying of ghosts is a public duty + Minutes taken up by the grey puffs from their mouths + No! Gentlemen don't fling stones; leave that to the blackguards + On the threshold of Puberty, there is one Unselfish Hour + Opened a wider view of the world to him, and a colder + Our most diligent pupil learns not so much as an earnest teacher + Rogue on the tremble of detection + Rumour for the nonce had a stronger spice of truth than usual + Seed-Time passed thus smoothly, and adolescence came on + Serene presumption + She can make puddens and pies + South-western Island has few attractions to other than invalids + Take 'em somethin' like Providence--as they come + Task of reclaiming a bad man is extremely seductive to good women + The Pilgrim's Scrip remarks that: Young men take joy in nothing + The world is wise in its way + The danger of a little knowledge of things is disputable + The born preacher we feel instinctively to be our foe + There is for the mind but one grasp of happiness + They believe that the angels have been busy about them + This was a totally different case from the antecedent ones + Those days of intellectual coxcombry + Threats of prayer, however, that harp upon their sincerity + To be passive in calamity is the province of no woman + Troublesome appendages of success + Unaccustomed to have his will thwarted + Who rises from Prayer a better man, his prayer is answered + Wise in not seeking to be too wise + Woman will be the last thing civilized by Man + Women are swift at coming to conclusions in these matters + Yet, though Angels smile, shall not Devils laugh + You've got no friend but your bed + Young as when she looked upon the lovers in Paradise + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Ordeal of Richard Feverel, Complete +by George Meredith + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RICHARD FEVEREL *** + +***** This file should be named 4412.txt or 4412.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/4/4/1/4412/ + +Produced by Pat Castevans and David Widger + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Hart +and may be reprinted only when these Etexts are free of all fees.] +[Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be used in any sales +of Project Gutenberg Etexts or other materials be they hardware or +software or any other related product without express permission.] + +*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.10/04/01*END* + + + + + +This etext was produced by Pat Castevans <patcat@ctnet.net> +and David Widger <widger@cecomet.net> + + + + + +THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL + +By George Meredith + +1905 + + + + +CONTENTS + +I. THE INMATES OF RAYNHAM ABBEY +II. FATES SELECTED THE FOURTEENTH BIRTHDAY TO TRY THE STRENGTH +III. THE MAGIAN CONFLICT +IV. ARSON +V. ADRIAN PLIES HIS HOOK +VI. JUVENILE STRATAGEMS +VII. DAPHNE'S BOWER +VIII. THE BITTER CUP +IX. A FINE DISTINCTION +X. RICHARD PASSES THROUGH HIS PRELIMINARY ORDEAL +XI. THE LAST ACT OF THE BAKEWELL COMEDY IS CLOSED IN A LETTER +XII. THE BLOSSOMING SEASON +XIII. THE MAGNETIC AGE +XIV. AN ATTRACTION +XV. FERDINAND AND MIRANDA +XVI. UNMASKING OF MASTER RIPTON THOMPSON +XVII. GOOD WINE AND GOOD BLOOD +XVIII. THE SYSTEM ENCOUNTERS THE WILD OATS SPECIAL PLEA +XIX. A DIVERSION PLAYED ON A PENNY WHISTLE +XX. CELEBRATES THE TIME-HONOURED TREATMENT OF A DRAGON BY THE HERO +XXI. RICHARD IS SUMMONED TO TOWN TO HEAR A SERMON +XXII. INDICATES THE APPROACHES OF FEVER +XXIII. CRISIS IN THE APPLE-DISEASE +XXIV. OF THE SPRING PRIMROSE AND THE AUTUMNAL +XXV. IN WHICH THE HERO TAKES A STEP +XXVI. RECORDS THE RAPID DEVELOPMENT OF THE HERO +XXVII. CONTAINS AN INTERCESSION FOR THE HEROINE +XXVIII. PREPARATIONS FOR ACTION WERE CONDUCTED UNDER THE APRIL OF LOVERS +XIX. THE LAST ACT OF THE COMEDY TAKES THE PLACE OF THE FIRST +XXX. CELEBRATES THE BREAKFAST +XXXI. THE PHILOSOPHER APPEARS IN PERSON +XXXII. PROCESSION OF THE CAKE +XXXIII. NURSING THE DEVIL +XXXIV. CONQUEST OF AN EPICURE +XXXV. CLARE'S MARRIAGE +XXXVI. A DINNER-PARTY AT RICHMOND +XXXVII. MRS. BERRY ON MATRIMONY +XXXVIII. AN ENCHANTRESS +XXXIX. THE LITTLE BIRD AND THE FALCON: A BERRY TO THE RESCUE! +XL. CLARE'S DIARY +XLI. AUSTIN RETURNS +XLII. NATURE SPEAKS +XLIII. AGAIN THE MAGIAN CONFLICT +XLIV. THE LAST SCENE +XLV. LADY BLANDISH TO AUSTIN WENTWORTH + + + + +THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL + + +BOOK 1. + +I. THE INMATES OF RAYNHAM ABBEY +II. SHOWING HOW THE FATES SELECTED THE FOURTEENTH BIRTHDAY TO TRY + THE STRENGTH OF THE SYSTEM +III. THE MAGIAN CONFLICT +IV. ARSON +V. ADRIAN PLIES HIS HOOK +VI. JUVENILE STRATAGEMS +VII. DAPHNE'S BOWER +VIII. THE BITTER CUP +IX. A FINE DISTINCTION +X. RICHARD PASSES THROUGH HIS PRELIMINARY ORDEAL, AND IS THE + OCCASION OF AN APHORISM +XI. IN WHICH THE LAST ACT OF THE BAKEWELL COMEDY IS CLOSED IN + A LETTER + + + +CHAPTER I + +Some years ago a book was published under the title of "The Pilgrim's +Scrip." It consisted of a selection of original aphorisms by an +anonymous gentleman, who in this bashful manner gave a bruised heart to +the world. + +He made no pretension to novelty. "Our new thoughts have thrilled dead +bosoms," he wrote; by which avowal it may be seen that youth had +manifestly gone from him, since he had ceased to be jealous of the +ancients. There was a half-sigh floating through his pages for those +days of intellectual coxcombry, when ideas come to us affecting the +embraces of virgins, and swear to us they are ours alone, and no one else +have they ever visited: and we believe them. + +For an example of his ideas of the sex he said: + +"I expect that Woman will be the last thing civilized by Man." + +Some excitement was produced in the bosoms of ladies by so monstrous a +scorn of them. + +One adventurous person betook herself to the Heralds' College, and there +ascertained that a Griffin between two Wheatsheaves, which stood on the +title-page of the book, formed the crest of Sir Austin Absworthy Bearne +Feverel, Baronet, of Raynham Abbey, in a certain Western county folding +Thames: a man of wealth and honour, and a somewhat lamentable history. + +The outline of the baronet's story was by no means new. He had a wife, +and he had a friend. His marriage was for love; his wife was a beauty; +his friend was a sort of poet. His wife had his whole heart, and his +friend all his confidence. When he selected Denzil Somers from among his +college chums, it was not on account of any similarity of disposition +between them, but from his intense worship of genius, which made him +overlook the absence of principle in his associate for the sake of such +brilliant promise. Denzil had a small patrimony to lead off with, and +that he dissipated before he left college; thenceforth he was dependent +upon his admirer, with whom he lived, filling a nominal post of bailiff +to the estates, and launching forth verse of some satiric and sentimental +quality; for being inclined to vice, and occasionally, and in a quiet +way, practising it, he was of course a sentimentalist and a satirist, +entitled to lash the Age and complain of human nature. His earlier +poems, published under the pseudonym of Diaper Sandoe, were so pure and +bloodless in their love passages, and at the same time so biting in their +moral tone, that his reputation was great among the virtuous, who form +the larger portion of the English book-buying public. Election-seasons +called him to ballad-poetry on behalf of the Tory party. Dialer +possessed undoubted fluency, but did tittle, though Sir Austin was ever +expecting much of him. + +A languishing, inexperienced woman, whose husband in mental and in moral +stature is more than the ordinary height above her, and who, now that her +first romantic admiration of his lofty bearing has worn off, and her +fretful little refinements of taste and sentiment are not instinctively +responded to, is thrown into no wholesome household collision with a +fluent man, fluent in prose and rhyme. Lady Feverel, when she first +entered on her duties at Raynham, was jealous of her husband's friend. +By degrees she tolerated him. In time he touched his guitar in her +chamber, and they played Rizzio and Mary together. + + "For I am not the first who found + The name of Mary fatal!" + +says a subsequent sentimental alliterative love-poem of Diaper's. + +Such was the outline of the story. But the baronet could fill it up. He +had opened his soul to these two. He had been noble Love to the one, and +to the other perfect Friendship. He had bid them be brother and sister +whom he loved, and live a Golden Age with him at Raynham. In fact, he +had been prodigal of the excellences of his nature, which it is not good +to be, and, like Timon, he became bankrupt, and fell upon bitterness. + +The faithless lady was of no particular family; an orphan daughter of an +admiral who educated her on his half-pay, and her conduct struck but at +the man whose name she bore. + +After five years of marriage, and twelve of friendship, Sir Austin was +left to his loneliness with nothing to ease his heart of love upon save a +little baby boy in a cradle. He forgave the man: he put him aside as +poor for his wrath. The woman he could not forgive; she had sinned every +way. Simple ingratitude to a benefactor was a pardonable transgression, +for he was not one to recount and crush the culprit under the heap of his +good deeds. But her he had raised to be his equal, and he judged her as +his equal. She had blackened the world's fair aspect for him. + +In the presence of that world, so different to him now, he preserved his +wonted demeanor, and made his features a flexible mask. Mrs. Doria +Forey, his widowed sister, said that Austin might have retired from his +Parliamentary career for a time, and given up gaieties and that kind of +thing; her opinion, founded on observation of him in public and private, +was, that the light thing who had taken flight was but a feather on her +brother's Feverel-heart, and his ordinary course of life would be +resumed. There are times when common men cannot bear the weight of just +so much. Hippias Feverel, one of his brothers, thought him immensely +improved by his misfortune, if the loss of such a person could be so +designated; and seeing that Hippias received in consequence free quarters +at Raynham, and possession of the wing of the Abbey she had inhabited, it +is profitable to know his thoughts. If the baronet had given two or +three blazing dinners in the great hall he would have deceived people +generally, as he did his relatives and intimates. He was too sick for +that: fit only for passive acting. + +The nursemaid waking in the night beheld a solitary figure darkening a +lamp above her little sleeping charge, and became so used to the sight as +never to wake with a start. One night she was strangely aroused by a +sound of sobbing. The baronet stood beside the cot in his long black +cloak and travelling cap. His fingers shaded a lamp, and reddened +against the fitful darkness that ever and anon went leaping up the wall. +She could hardly believe her senses to see the austere gentleman, dead +silent, dropping tear upon tear before her eyes. She lay stone-still in +a trance of terror and mournfulness, mechanically counting the tears as +they fell, one by one. The hidden face, the fall and flash of those +heavy drops in the light of the lamp he held, the upright, awful figure, +agitated at regular intervals like a piece of clockwork by the low +murderous catch of his breath: it was so piteous to her poor human nature +that her heart began wildly palpitating. Involuntarily the poor girl +cried out to him, "Oh, sir!" and fell a-weeping. Sir Austin turned the +lamp on her pillow, and harshly bade her go to sleep, striding from the +room forthwith. He dismissed her with a purse the next day. + +Once, when he was seven years old, the little fellow woke up at night to +see a lady bending over him. He talked of this the neat day, but it was +treated as a dream; until in the course of the day his uncle Algernon was +driven home from Lobourne cricket-ground with a broken leg. Then it was +recollected that there was a family ghost; and, though no member of the +family believed in the ghost, none would have given up a circumstance +that testified to its existence; for to possess a ghost is a distinction +above titles. + +Algernon Feverel lost his leg, and ceased to be a gentleman in the +Guards. Of the other uncles of young Richard, Cuthbert, the sailor, +perished in a spirited boat expedition against a slaving negro chief up +the Niger. Some of the gallant lieutenant's trophies of war decorated +the little boy's play-shed at Raynham, and he bequeathed his sword to +Richard, whose hero he was. The diplomatist and beau, Vivian, ended his +flutterings from flower to flower by making an improper marriage, as is +the fate of many a beau, and was struck out of the list of visitors. +Algernon generally occupied the baronet's disused town-house, a wretched +being, dividing his time between horse and card exercise: possessed, it +was said, of the absurd notion that a man who has lost his balance by +losing his leg may regain it by sticking to the bottle. At least, +whenever he and his brother Hippias got together, they never failed to +try whether one leg, or two, stood the bottle best. Much of a puritan as +Sir Austin was in his habits, he was too good a host, and too thorough a +gentleman, to impose them upon his guests. The brothers, and other +relatives, might do as they would while they did not disgrace the name, +and then it was final: they must depart to behold his countenance no +more. + +Algernon Feverel was a simple man, who felt, subsequent to his +misfortune, as he had perhaps dimly fancied it before, that his career +lay in his legs, and was now irrevocably cut short. He taught the boy +boxing, and shooting, and the arts of fence, and superintended the +direction of his animal vigour with a melancholy vivacity. The remaining +energies of Algernon's mind were devoted to animadversions on swift +bowling. He preached it over the county, struggling through laborious +literary compositions, addressed to sporting newspapers, on the Decline +of Cricket. It was Algernon who witnessed and chronicled young Richard's +first fight, which was with young Tom Blaize of Belthorpe Farm, three +years the boy's senior. + +Hippias Feverel was once thought to be the genius of the family. It was +his ill luck to have strong appetites and a weak stomach; and, as one is +not altogether fit for the battle of life who is engaged in a perpetual +contention with his dinner, Hippias forsook his prospects at the Bar, +and, in the embraces of dyspepsia, compiled his ponderous work on the +Fairy Mythology of Europe. He had little to do with the Hope of Raynham +beyond what he endured from his juvenile tricks. + +A venerable lady, known as Great-Aunt Grantley, who had money to bequeath +to the heir, occupied with Hippias the background of the house and shared +her candles with him. These two were seldom seen till the dinner hour, +for which they were all day preparing, and probably all night +remembering, for the Eighteenth Century was an admirable trencherman, and +cast age aside while there was a dish on the table. + +Mrs. Doris Foray was the eldest of the three sisters of the baronet, a +florid affable woman, with fine teeth, exceedingly fine light wavy hair, +a Norman nose, and a reputation for understanding men; and that, with +these practical creatures, always means the art of managing them. She +had married an expectant younger son of a good family, who deceased +before the fulfilment of his prospects; and, casting about in her mind +the future chances of her little daughter and sole child, Clare, she +marked down a probability. The far sight, the deep determination, the +resolute perseverance of her sex, where a daughter is to be provided for +and a man to be overthrown, instigated her to invite herself to Raynham, +where, with that daughter, she fixed herself. + +The other two Feverel ladies were the wife of Colonel Wentworth and the +widow of Mr. Justice Harley: and the only thing remarkable about them was +that they were mothers of sons of some distinction. + +Austin Wentworth's story was of that wretched character which to be +comprehended, that justice should be dealt him, must be told out and +openly; which no one dares now do. + +For a fault in early youth, redeemed by him nobly, according to his +light, he was condemned to undergo the world's harsh judgment: not for +the fault--for its atonement. + +"--Married his mother's housemaid," whispered Mrs. Doria, with a ghastly +look, and a shudder at young men of republican sentiments, which he was +reputed to entertain. "'The compensation for Injustice,' says the +'Pilgrim's Scrip,' is, that in that dark Ordeal we gather the worthiest +around us." + +And the baronet's fair friend, Lady Blandish, and some few true men and +women, held Austin Wentworth high. + +He did not live with his wife; and Sir Austin, whose mind was bent on the +future of our species, reproached him with being barren to posterity, +while knaves were propagating. + +The principal characteristic of the second nephew, Adrian Harley, was his +sagacity. He was essentially the wise youth, both in counsel and in +action. + +"In action," the "Pilgrim's Scrip" observes, "Wisdom goes by majorities." + +Adrian had an instinct for the majority, and, as the world invariably +found him enlisted in its ranks, his appellation of wise youth was +acquiesced in without irony. + +The wise youth, then, had the world with him, but no friends. Nor did he +wish for those troublesome appendages of success. He caused himself to +be required by people who could serve him; feared by such as could +injure. Not that he went out of the way to secure his end, or risked the +expense of a plot. He did the work as easily as he ate his daily bread. +Adrian was an epicurean; one whom Epicurus would have scourged out of his +garden, certainly: an epicurean of our modern notions. To satisfy his +appetites without rashly staking his character, was the wise youth's +problem for life. He had no intimates except Gibbon and Horace, and the +society of these fine aristocrats of literature helped him to accept +humanity as it had been, and was; a supreme ironic procession, with +laughter of Gods in the background. Why not laughter of mortals also? +Adrian had his laugh in his comfortable corner. He possessed peculiar +attributes of a heathen God. He was a disposer of men: he was polished, +luxurious, and happy--at their cost. He lived in eminent self-content, +as one lying on soft cloud, lapt in sunshine. Nor Jove, nor Apollo, cast +eye upon the maids of earth with cooler fire of selection, or pursued +them in the covert with more sacred impunity. And he enjoyed his +reputation for virtue as something additional. Stolen fruits are said to +be sweet; undeserved rewards are exquisite. + +The best of it was, that Adrian made no pretences. He did not solicit +the favourable judgment of the world. Nature and he attempted no other +concealment than the ordinary mask men wear. And yet the world would +proclaim him moral, as well as wise, and the pleasing converse every way +of his disgraced cousin Austin. + +In a word, Adrian Harley had mastered his philosophy at the early age of +one-and-twenty. Many would be glad to say the same at that age twice- +told: they carry in their breasts a burden with which Adrian's was not +loaded. Mrs. Doria was nearly right about his heart. A singular mishap +(at his birth, possibly, or before it) had unseated that organ, and +shaken it down to his stomach, where it was a much lighter, nay, an +inspiring weight, and encouraged him merrily onward. Throned there it +looked on little that did not arrive to gratify it. Already that region +was a trifle prominent in the person of the wise youth, and carried, as +it were, the flag of his philosophical tenets in front of him. He was +charming after dinner, with men or with women: delightfully sarcastic: +perhaps a little too unscrupulous in his moral tone, but that his moral +reputation belied him, and it must be set down to generosity of +disposition. + +Such was Adrian Harley, another of Sir Austin's intellectual favourites, +chosen from mankind to superintend the education of his son at Raynham. +Adrian had been destined for the Church. He did not enter into Orders. +He and the baronet had a conference together one day, and from that time +Adrian became a fixture in the Abbey. His father died in his promising +son's college term, bequeathing him nothing but his legal complexion, and +Adrian became stipendiary officer in his uncle's household. + +A playfellow of Richard's occasionally, and the only comrade of his age +that he ever saw, was Master Ripton Thompson, the son of Sir Austin's +solicitor, a boy without a character. + +A comrade of some description was necessary, for Richard was neither to +go to school nor to college. Sir Austin considered that the schools were +corrupt, and maintained that young lads might by parental vigilance be +kept pretty secure from the Serpent until Eve sided with him: a period +that might be deferred, he said. He had a system of education for his +son. How it worked we shall see. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +October, shone royally on Richard's fourteenth birthday. The brown +beechwoods and golden birches glowed to a brilliant sun. Banks of +moveless cloud hung about the horizon, mounded to the west, where slept +the wind. Promise of a great day for Raynham, as it proved to be, though +not in the manner marked out. + +Already archery-booths and cricketing-tents were rising on the lower +grounds towards the river, whither the lads of Bursley and Lobourne, in +boats and in carts, shouting for a day of ale and honour, jogged merrily +to match themselves anew, and pluck at the lining laurel from each +other's brows, line manly Britons. The whole park was beginning to be +astir and resound with holiday cries. Sir Austin Feverel, a thorough +good Tory, was no game-preserver, and could be popular whenever he chose, +which Sir Males Papworth, on the other side of the river, a fast-handed +Whig and terror to poachers, never could be. Half the village of +Lobourne was seen trooping through the avenues of the park. Fiddlers and +gipsies clamoured at the gates for admission: white smocks, and slate, +surmounted by hats of serious brim, and now and then a scarlet cloak, +smacking of the old country, dotted the grassy sweeps to the levels. + +And all the time the star of these festivities was receding further and +further, and eclipsing himself with his reluctant serf Ripton, who kept +asking what they were to do and where they were going, and how late it +was in the day, and suggesting that the lads of Lobourne would be calling +out for them, and Sir Austin requiring their presence, without getting +any attention paid to his misery or remonstrances. For Richard had been +requested by his father to submit to medical examination like a boor +enlisting for a soldier, and he was in great wrath. + +He was flying as though he would have flown from the shameful thought of +what had been asked of him. By-and-by he communicated his sentiments to +Ripton, who said they were those of a girl: an offensive remark, +remembering which, Richard, after they had borrowed a couple of guns at +the bailiff's farm, and Ripton had fired badly, called his friend a fool. + +Feeling that circumstances were making him look wonderfully like one, +Ripton lifted his head and retorted defiantly, "I'm not!" + +This angry contradiction, so very uncalled for, annoyed Richard, who was +still smarting at the loss of the birds, owing to Ripton's bad shot, and +was really the injured party. He, therefore bestowed the abusive epithet +on Ripton anew, and with increase of emphasis. + +"You shan't call me so, then, whether I am or not," says Ripton, and +sucks his lips. + +This was becoming personal. Richard sent up his brows, and stared at his +defier an instant. He then informed him that he certainly should call +him so, and would not object to call him so twenty times. + +"Do it, and see!" returns Ripton, rocking on his feet, and breathing +quick. + +With a gravity of which only boys and other barbarians are capable, +Richard went through the entire number, stressing the epithet to increase +the defiance and avoid monotony, as he progressed, while Ripton bobbed +his head every time in assent, as it were, to his comrade's accuracy, and +as a record for his profound humiliation. The dog they had with them +gazed at the extraordinary performance with interrogating wags of the +tail. + +Twenty times, duly and deliberately, Richard repeated the obnoxious word. + +At the twentieth solemn iteration of Ripton's capital shortcoming, Ripton +delivered a smart back-hander on Richard's mouth, and squared +precipitately; perhaps sorry when the deed was done, for he was a kind- +hearted lad, and as Richard simply bowed in acknowledgment of the blow he +thought he had gone too far. He did not know the young gentleman he was +dealing with. Richard was extremely cool. + +"Shall we fight here?" he said. + +"Anywhere you like," replied Ripton. + +"A little more into the wood, I think. We may be interrupted." And +Richard led the way with a courteous reserve that somewhat chilled +Ripton's ardour for the contest. On the skirts of the wood, Richard +threw off his jacket and waistcoat, and, quite collected, waited for +Ripton to do the same. The latter boy was flushed and restless; older +and broader, but not so tight-limbed and well-set. The Gods, sole +witnesses of their battle, betted dead against him. Richard had mounted +the white cockade of the Feverels, and there was a look in him that asked +for tough work to extinguish. His brows, slightly lined upward at the +temples, converging to a knot about the well-set straight nose; his full +grey eyes, open nostrils, and planted feet, and a gentlemanly air of calm +and alertness, formed a spirited picture of a young combatant. As for +Ripton, he was all abroad, and fought in school-boy style--that is, he +rushed at the foe head foremost, and struck like a windmill. He was a +lumpy boy. When he did hit, he made himself felt; but he was at the +mercy of science. To see him come dashing in, blinking and puffing and +whirling his arms abroad while the felling blow went straight between +them, you perceived that he was fighting a fight of desperation, and knew +it. For the dreaded alternative glared him in the face that, if he +yielded, he must look like what he had been twenty times calumniously +called; and he would die rather than yield, and swing his windmill till +he dropped. Poor boy! he dropped frequently. The gallant fellow fought +for appearances, and down he went. The Gods favour one of two parties. +Prince Turnus was a noble youth; but he had not Pallas at his elbow. +Ripton was a capital boy; he had no science. He could not prove he was +not a fool! When one comes to think of it, Ripton did choose the only +possible way, and we should all of us have considerable difficulty in +proving the negative by any other. Ripton came on the unerring fist +again and again; and if it was true, as he said in short colloquial +gasps, that he required as much beating as an egg to be beaten +thoroughly, a fortunate interruption alone saved our friend from +resembling that substance. The boys heard summoning voices, and beheld +Mr. Morton of Poer Hall and Austin Wentworth stepping towards them. + +A truce was sounded, jackets were caught up, guns shouldered, and off +they trotted in concert through the depths of the wood, not stopping till +that and half-a-dozen fields and a larch plantation were well behind +them. + +When they halted to take breath, there was a mutual study of faces. +Ripton's was much discoloured, and looked fiercer with its natural war- +paint than the boy felt. Nevertheless, he squared up dauntlessly on the +new ground, and Richard, whose wrath was appeased, could not refrain from +asking him whether he had not really had enough. + +"Never!" shouts the noble enemy. + +"Well, look here," said Richard, appealing to common sense, "I'm tired of +knocking you down. I'll say you're not a fool, if you'll give me your +hand." + +Ripton demurred an instant to consult with honour, who bade him catch at +his chance. + +He held out his hand. "There!" and the boys grasped hands and were fast +friends. Ripton had gained his point, and Richard decidedly had the best +of it. So, they were on equal ground. Both, could claim a victory, +which was all the better for their friendship. + +Ripton washed his face and comforted his nose at a brook, and was now +ready to follow his friend wherever he chose to lead. They continued to +beat about for birds. The birds on the Raynham estates were found +singularly cunning, and repeatedly eluded the aim of these prime shots, +so they pushed their expedition into the lands of their neighbors, in +search of a stupider race, happily oblivious of the laws and conditions +of trespass; unconscious, too, that they were poaching on the demesne of +the notorious Farmer Blaize, the free-trade farmer under the shield of +the Papworths, no worshipper of the Griffin between two Wheatsheaves; +destined to be much allied with Richard's fortunes from beginning to end. +Farmer Blaize hated poachers, and, especially young chaps poaching, who +did it mostly from impudence. He heard the audacious shots popping right +and left, and going forth to have a glimpse at the intruders, and +observing their size, swore he would teach my gentlemen a thing, lords or +no lords. + +Richard had brought down a beautiful cock-pheasant, and was exulting over +it, when the farmer's portentous figure burst upon them, cracking an +avenging horsewhip. His salute was ironical. + +"Havin' good sport, gentlemen, are ye?" + +"Just bagged a splendid bird!" radiant Richard informed him. + +"Oh!" Farmer Blaize gave an admonitory flick of the whip. + +"Just let me clap eye on't, then." + +"Say, please," interposed Ripton, who was not blind to doubtful aspects. + +Farmer Blaize threw up his chin, and grinned grimly. + +"Please to you, sir? Why, my chap, you looks as if ye didn't much mind +what come t'yer nose, I reckon. You looks an old poacher, you do. Tall +ye what 'tis'!" He changed his banter to business, "That bird's mine! +Now you jest hand him over, and sheer off, you dam young scoundrels! I +know ye!" And he became exceedingly opprobrious, and uttered contempt of +the name of Feverel. + +Richard opened his eyes. + +If you wants to be horsewhipped, you'll stay where y'are!" continued the +farmer. "Giles Blaize never stands nonsense!" + +"Then we'll stay," quoth Richard. + +"Good! so be't! If you will have't, have't, my men!" + +As a preparatory measure, Farmer Blaize seized a wing of the bird, on +which both boys flung themselves desperately, and secured it minus the +pinion. + +"That's your game," cried the farmer. "Here's a taste of horsewhip for +ye. I never stands nonsense!" and sweetch went the mighty whip, well +swayed. The boys tried to close with him. He kept his distance and +lashed without mercy. Black blood was made by Farmer Blaize that day! +The boys wriggled, in spite of themselves. It was like a relentless +serpent coiling, and biting, and stinging their young veins to madness. +Probably they felt the disgrace of the contortions they were made to go +through more than the pain, but the pain was fierce, for the farmer laid +about from a practised arm, and did not consider that he had done enough +till he was well breathed and his ruddy jowl inflamed. He paused, to +receive the remainder of the cock-pheasant in his face. + +"Take your beastly bird," cried Richard. + +"Money, my lads, and interest," roared the farmer, lashing out again. + +Shameful as it was to retreat, there was but that course open to them. +They decided to surrender the field. + +"Look! you big brute," Richard shook his gun, hoarse with passion, "I'd +have shot you, if I'd been loaded. Mind if I come across you when I'm +loaded, you coward, I'll fire!" The un-English nature of this threat +exasperated Farmer Blaize, and he pressed the pursuit in time to bestow a +few farewell stripes as they were escaping tight-breeched into neutral +territory. At the hedge they parleyed a minute, the farmer to inquire if +they had had a mortal good tanning and were satisfied, for when they +wanted a further instalment of the same they were to come for it to +Belthorpe Farm, and there it was in pickle: the boys meantime exploding +in menaces and threats of vengeance, on which the farmer contemptuously +turned his back. Ripton had already stocked an armful of flints for the +enjoyment of a little skirmishing. Richard, however, knocked them all +out, saying, "No! Gentlemen don't fling stones; leave that to the +blackguards." + +"Just one shy at him!" pleaded Ripton, with his eye on Farmer Blaize's +broad mark, and his whole mind drunken with a sudden revelation of the +advantages of light troops in opposition to heavies. + +"No," said Richard, imperatively, "no stones," and marched briskly away. +Ripton followed with a sigh. His leader's magnanimity was wholly beyond +him. A good spanking mark at the farmer would have relieved Master +Ripton; it would have done nothing to console Richard Feverel for the +ignominy he had been compelled to submit to. Ripton was familiar with +the rod, a monster much despoiled of his terrors by intimacy. Birch- +fever was past with this boy. The horrible sense of shame, self- +loathing, universal hatred, impotent vengeance, as if the spirit were +steeped in abysmal blackness, which comes upon a courageous and sensitive +youth condemned for the first time to taste this piece of fleshly +bitterness, and suffer what he feels is a defilement, Ripton had +weathered and forgotten. He was seasoned wood, and took the world pretty +wisely; not reckless of castigation, as some boys become, nor +oversensitive as to dishonour, as his friend and comrade beside him was. + +Richard's blood was poisoned. He had the fever on him severely. He +would not allow stone-flinging, because it was a habit of his to +discountenance it. Mere gentlemanly considerations has scarce shielded +Farmer Blaize, and certain very ungentlemanly schemes were coming to +ghastly heads in the tumult of his brain; rejected solely from their +glaring impracticability even to his young intelligence. A sweeping and +consummate vengeance for the indignity alone should satisfy him. +Something tremendous must be done; and done without delay. At one moment +he thought of killing all the farmer's cattle; next of killing him; +challenging him to single combat with the arms, and according to the +fashion of gentlemen. But the farmer was a coward; he would refuse. +Then he, Richard Feverel, would stand by the farmer's bedside, and rouse +him; rouse him to fight with powder and ball in his own chamber, in the +cowardly midnight, where he might tremble, but dare not refuse. + +"Lord!" cried simple Ripton, while these hopeful plots were raging in his +comrade's brain, now sparkling for immediate execution, and anon lapsing +disdainfully dark in their chances of fulfilment, "how I wish you'd have +let me notch him, Ricky! I'm a safe shot. I never miss. I should feel +quite jolly if I'd spanked him once. We should have had the beat of him +at that game. I say!" and a sharp thought drew Ripton's ideas nearer +home, "I wonder whether my nose is as bad as he says! Where can I see +myself?" + +To these exclamations Richard was deaf, and he trudged steadily forward, +facing but one object. + +After tearing through innumerable hedges, leaping fences, jumping dykes, +penetrating brambly copses, and getting dirty, ragged, and tired, Ripton +awoke from his dream of Farmer Blaize and a blue nose to the vivid +consciousness of hunger; and this grew with the rapidity of light upon +him, till in the course of another minute he was enduring the extremes of +famine, and ventured to question his leader whither he was being +conducted. Raynham was out of sight. They were a long way down the +valley, miles from Lobourne, in a country of sour pools, yellow brooks, +rank pasturage, desolate heath. Solitary cows were seen; the smoke of a +mud cottage; a cart piled with peat; a donkey grazing at leisure, +oblivious of an unkind world; geese by a horse-pond, gabbling as in the +first loneliness of creation; uncooked things that a famishing boy cannot +possibly care for, and must despise. Ripton was in despair. + +"Where are you going to?" he inquired with a voice of the last time of +asking, and halted resolutely. + +Richard now broke his silence to reply, "Anywhere." + +"Anywhere!" Ripton took up the moody word. "But ain't you awfully +hungry?" he gasped vehemently, in a way that showed the total emptiness +of his stomach. + +"No," was Richard's brief response. + +"Not hungry!" Ripton's amazement lent him increased vehemence. "Why, you +haven't had anything to eat since breakfast! Not hungry? I declare I'm +starving. I feel such a gnawing I could eat dry bread and cheese!" + +Richard sneered: not for reasons that would have actuated a similar +demonstration of the philosopher. + +"Come," cried Ripton, "at all events, tell us where you're going to +stop." + +Richard faced about to make a querulous retort. The injured and hapless +visage that met his eye disarmed him. The lad's nose, though not exactly +of the dreaded hue, was really becoming discoloured. To upbraid him +would be cruel. Richard lifted his head, surveyed the position, and +exclaiming "Here!" dropped down on a withered bank, leaving Ripton to +contemplate him as a puzzle whose every new move was a worse perplexity. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +Among boys there are laws of honour and chivalrous codes, not written or +formally taught, but intuitively understood by all, and invariably acted +upon by the loyal and the true. The race is not nearly civilized, we +must remember. Thus, not to follow your leader whithersoever he may +think proper to lead; to back out of an expedition because the end of it +frowns dubious, and the present fruit of it is discomfort; to quit a +comrade on the road, and return home without him: these are tricks which +no boy of spirit would be guilty of, let him come to any description of +mortal grief in consequence. Better so than have his own conscience +denouncing him sneak. Some boys who behave boldly enough are not +troubled by this conscience, and the eyes and the lips of their fellows +have to supply the deficiency. They do it with just as haunting, and +even more horrible pertinacity, than the inner voice, and the result, if +the probation be not very severe and searching, is the same. The leader +can rely on the faithfulness of his host: the comrade is sworn to serve. +Master Ripton Thompson was naturally loyal. The idea of turning off and +forsaking his friend never once crossed his mind, though his condition +was desperate, and his friend's behaviour that of a Bedlamite. He +announced several times impatiently that they would be too late for +dinner. His friend did not budge. Dinner seemed nothing to him. There +he lay plucking grass, and patting the old dog's nose, as if incapable of +conceiving what a thing hunger was. Ripton took half-a-dozen turns up +and down, and at last flung himself down beside the taciturn boy, +accepting his fate. + +Now, the chance that works for certain purposes sent a smart shower from +the sinking sun, and the wet sent two strangers for shelter in the lane +behind the hedge where the boys reclined. One was a travelling tinker, +who lit a pipe and spread a tawny umbrella. The other was a burly young +countryman, pipeless and tentless. They saluted with a nod, and began +recounting for each other's benefit the daylong-doings of the weather, as +it had affected their individual experience and followed their +prophecies. Both had anticipated and foretold a bit of rain before +night, and therefore both welcomed the wet with satisfaction. A +monotonous betweenwhiles kind of talk they kept droning, in harmony with +the still hum of the air. From the weather theme they fell upon the +blessings of tobacco; how it was the poor man's friend, his company, his +consolation, his comfort, his refuge at night, his first thought in the +morning. + +"Better than a wife!" chuckled the tinker. "No curtain-lecturin' with a +pipe. Your pipe an't a shrew." + +"That be it!" the other chimed in. "Your pipe doan't mak' ye out wi' all +the cash Saturday evenin'." + +"Take one," said the tinker, in the enthusiasm of the moment, handing a +grimy short clay. Speed-the-Plough filled from the tinker's pouch, and +continued his praises. + +"Penny a day, and there y'are, primed! Better than a wife? Ha, ha!" + +"And you can get rid of it, if ye wants for to, and when ye wants," added +tinker. + +"So ye can!" Speed-the-Plough took him up. "And ye doan't want for to. +Leastways, t'other case. I means pipe." + +"And," continued tinker, comprehending him perfectly, it don't bring +repentance after it." + +"Not nohow, master, it doan't! And"--Speed-the-Plough cocked his eye-- +"it doan't eat up half the victuals, your pipe doan't." + +Here the honest yeoman gesticulated his keen sense of a clincher, which +the tinker acknowledged; and having, so to speak, sealed up the subject +by saying the best thing that could be said, the two smoked for some time +in silence to the drip and patter of the shower. + +Ripton solaced his wretchedness by watching them through the briar hedge. +He saw the tinker stroking a white cat, and appealing to her, every now +and then, as his missus, for an opinion or a confirmation; and he thought +that a curious sight. Speed-the-Plough was stretched at full length, +with his boots in the rain, and his head amidst the tinker's pots, +smoking, profoundly contemplative. The minutes seemed to be taken up +alternately by the grey puffs from their mouths. + +It was the tinker who renewed the colloquy. Said he, "Times is bad!" + +His companion assented, "Sure-ly!" + +"But it somehow comes round right," resumed the tinker. "Why, look here. +Where's the good o' moping? I sees it all come round right and tight. +Now I travels about. I've got my beat. 'Casion calls me t'other day to +Newcastle!--Eh?" + +"Coals!" ejaculated Speed-the-Plough sonorously. + +"Coals!" echoed the tinker. "You ask what I goes there for, mayhap? +Never you mind. One sees a mort o' life in my trade. Not for coals it +isn't. And I don't carry 'em there, neither. Anyhow, I comes back. +London's my mark. Says I, I'll see a bit o' the sea, and steps aboard a +collier. We were as nigh wrecked as the prophet Paul." + +"--A--who's him?" the other wished to know. + +"Read your Bible," said the tinker. "We pitched and tossed--'tain't that +game at sea 'tis on land, I can tell ye! I thinks, down we're a-going-- +say your prayers, Bob Tiles! That was a night, to be sure! But God's +above the devil, and here I am, ye see." Speed-the-Plough lurched round +on his elbow and regarded him indifferently. "D'ye call that doctrin'? +He bean't al'ays, or I shoo'n't be scrapin' my heels wi' nothin' to do, +and, what's warse, nothin' to eat. Why, look heer. Luck's luck, and bad +luck's the con-trary. Varmer Bollop, t'other day, has's rick burnt down. +Next night his gran'ry's burnt. What do he tak' and go and do? He takes +and goes and hangs unsel', and turns us out of his employ. God warn't +above the devil then, I thinks, or I can't make out the reckonin'." + +The tinker cleared his throat, and said it was a bad case. + +"And a darn'd bad case. I'll tak' my oath on't!" cried Speed-the-Plough. +"Well, look heer! Heer's another darn'd bad case. I threshed for Varmer +Blaize Blaize o' Beltharpe afore I goes to Varmer Bollop. Varmer Blaize +misses pilkins. He swears our chaps steals pilkins. 'Twarn't me steals +'em. What do he tak' and go and do? He takes and tarns us off, me and +another, neck and crop, to scuffle about and starve, for all he keers. +God warn't above the devil then, I thinks. Not nohow, as I can see!" + +The tinker shook his head, and said that was a bad case also. + +"And you can't mend it," added Speed-the-Plough. "It's bad, and there it +be. But I'll tell ye what, master. Bad wants payin' for." He nodded +and winked mysteriously. "Bad has its wages as well's honest work, I'm +thinkin'. Varmer Bollop I don't owe no grudge to: Varmer Blaize I do. +And I shud like to stick a Lucifer in his rick some dry windy night." +Speed-the-Plough screwed up an eye villainously. "He wants hittin' in +the wind,--jest where the pocket is, master, do Varmer Blaize, and he'll +cry out 'O Lor'!' Varmer Blaize will. You won't get the better o' Varmer +Blaize by no means, as I makes out, if ye doan't hit into him jest +there." + +The tinker sent a rapid succession of white clouds from his mouth, and +said that would be taking the devil's side of a bad case. Speed-the- +Plough observed energetically that, if Farmer Blaize was on the other, he +should be on that side. + +There was a young gentleman close by, who thought with him. The hope of +Raynham had lent a careless half-compelled attention to the foregoing +dialogue, wherein a common labourer and a travelling tinker had +propounded and discussed one of the most ancient theories of transmundane +dominion and influence on mundane affairs. He now started to his feet, +and came tearing through the briar hedge, calling out for one of them to +direct them the nearest road to Bursley. The tinker was kindling +preparations for his tea, under the tawny umbrella. A loaf was set +forth, oh which Ripton's eyes, stuck in the edge, fastened ravenously. +Speed-the-Plough volunteered information that Bursley was a good three +mile from where they stood, and a good eight mile from Lobourne. + +"I'll give you half-a-crown for that loaf, my good fellow," said Richard +to the tinker. + +"It's a bargain;" quoth the tinker, "eh, missus?" + +His cat replied by humping her back at the dog. + +The half-crown was tossed down, and Ripton, who had just succeeded in +freeing his limbs from the briar, prickly as a hedgehog, collared the +loaf. + +"Those young squires be sharp-set, and no mistake," said the tinker to +his companion. "Come! we'll to Bursley after 'em, and talk it out over a +pot o' beer." Speed-the-Plough was nothing loath, and in a short time +they were following the two lads on the road to Bursley, while a +horizontal blaze shot across the autumn and from the Western edge of the +rain-cloud. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +Search for the missing boys had been made everywhere over Raynham, and +Sir Austin was in grievous discontent. None had seen them save Austin +Wentworth and Mr. Morton. The baronet sat construing their account of +the flight of the lads when they were hailed, and resolved it into an act +of rebellion on the part of his son. At dinner he drank the young heir's +health in ominous silence. Adrian Harley stood up in his place to +propose the health. His speech was a fine piece of rhetoric. He warmed +in it till, after the Ciceronic model, inanimate objects were +personified, and Richard's table-napkin and vacant chair were invoked to +follow the steps of a peerless father, and uphold with his dignity the +honour of the Feverels. Austin Wentworth, whom a soldier's death +compelled to take his father's place in support of the toast, was tame +after such magniloquence. But the reply, the thanks which young Richard +should have delivered in person were not forthcoming. Adrian's oratory +had given but a momentary life to napkin and chair. The company of +honoured friends, and aunts and uncles, remotest cousins, were glad to +disperse and seek amusement in music and tea. Sir Austin did his utmost +to be hospitable cheerful, and requested them to dance. If he had +desired them to laugh he would have been obeyed, and in as hearty a +manner. + +"How triste!" said Mrs. Doria Forey to Lobourne's curate, as that most +enamoured automaton went through his paces beside her with professional +stiffness. + +"One who does not suffer can hardly assent," the curate answered, basking +in her beams. + +"Ah, you are good!" exclaimed the lady. "Look at my Clare. She will not +dance on her cousin's birthday with anyone but him. What are we to do to +enliven these people?" + +"Alas, madam! you cannot do for all what you do for one," the curate +sighed, and wherever she wandered in discourse, drew her back with silken +strings to gaze on his enamoured soul. + +He was the only gratified stranger present. The others had designs on +the young heir. Lady Attenbury of Longford House had brought her highly- +polished specimen of market-ware, the Lady Juliana Jaye, for a first +introduction to him, thinking he had arrived at an age to estimate and +pine for her black eyes and pretty pert mouth. The Lady Juliana had to +pair off with a dapper Papworth, and her mama was subjected to the +gallantries of Sir Miles, who talked land and steam-engines to her till +she was sick, and had to be impertinent in self-defence. Lady Blandish, +the delightful widow, sat apart with Adrian, and enjoyed his sarcasms on +the company. By ten at night the poor show ended, and the rooms were +dark, dark as the prognostics multitudinously hinted by the disappointed +and chilled guests concerning the probable future of the hope of Raynham. +Little Clare kissed her mama, curtsied to the lingering curate, and went +to bed like a very good girl. Immediately the maid had departed, little +Clare deliberately exchanged night, attire for that of day. She was +noted as an obedient child. Her light was allowed to burn in her room +for half-an-hour, to counteract her fears of the dark. She took the +light, and stole on tiptoe to Richard's room. No Richard was there. She +peeped in further and further. A trifling agitation of the curtains shot +her back through the door and along the passage to her own bedchamber +with extreme expedition. She was not much alarmed, but feeling guilty +she was on her guard. In a short time she was prowling about the +passages again. Richard had slighted and offended the little lady, and +was to be asked whether he did not repent such conduct toward his cousin; +not to be asked whether he had forgotten to receive his birthday kiss +from her; for, if he did not choose to remember that, Miss Clare would +never remind him of it, and to-night should be his last chance of a +reconciliation. Thus she meditated, sitting on a stair, and presently +heard Richard's voice below in the hall, shouting for supper. + +"Master Richard has returned," old Benson the butler tolled out +intelligence to Sir Austin. + +"Well?" said the baronet. + +"He complains of being hungry," the butler hesitated, with a look of +solemn disgust. + +"Let him eat." + +Heavy Benson hesitated still more as he announced that the boy had called +for wine. It was an unprecedented thing. Sir Austin's brows were +portending an arch, but Adrian suggested that he wanted possibly to drink +his birthday, and claret was conceded. + +The boys were in the vortex of a partridge-pie when Adrian strolled in to +them. They had now changed characters. Richard was uproarious. He +drank a health with every glass; his cheeks were flushed and his eyes +brilliant. Ripton looked very much like a rogue on the tremble of +detection, but his honest hunger and the partridge-pie shielded him +awhile from Adrian's scrutinizing glance. Adrian saw there was matter +for study, if it were only on Master Ripton's betraying nose, and sat +down to hear and mark. + +"Good sport, gentlemen, I trust to hear?" he began his quiet banter, and +provoked a loud peal of laughter from Richard. + +"Ha, ha! I say, Rip: 'Havin' good sport, gentlemen, are ye?' You +remember the farmer! Your health, parson! We haven't had our sport yet. +We're going to have some first-rate sport. Oh, well! we haven't much +show of birds. We shot for pleasure, and returned them to the +proprietors. You're fond of game, parson! Ripton is a dead shot in what +Cousin Austin calls the Kingdom of 'would-have-done' and 'might-have- +been.' Up went the birds, and cries Rip, 'I've forgotten to load!' Oh, +ho!--Rip! some more claret.--Do just leave that nose of yours alone.-- +Your health, Ripton Thompson! The birds hadn't the decency to wait for +him, and so, parson, it's their fault, and not Rip's, you haven't a dozen +brace at your feet. What have you been doing at home, Cousin Rady?" + +"Playing Hamlet, in the absence of the Prince of Denmark. The day +without you, my dear boy, must be dull, you know." + + "'He speaks: can I trust what he says is sincere? + There's an edge to his smile that cuts much like a sneer.' + +"Sandoe's poems! You know the couplet, Mr. Rady. Why shouldn't I quote +Sandoe? You know you like him, Rady. But, if you've missed me, I'm +sorry. Rip and I have had a beautiful day. We've made new +acquaintances. We've seen the world. I'm the monkey that has seen the +world, and I'm going to tell you all about it. First, there's a +gentleman who takes a rifle for a fowling-piece. Next, there's a farmer +who warns everybody, gentleman and beggar, off his premises. Next, +there's a tinker and a ploughman, who think that God is always fighting +with the devil which shall command the kingdoms of the earth. The +tinker's for God, and the ploughman"-- + +"I'll drink your health, Ricky," said Adrian, interrupting. + +"Oh, I forgot, parson;--I mean no harm, Adrian. I'm only telling what +I've heard." + +"No harm, my dear boy," returned Adrian. "I'm perfectly aware that +Zoroaster is not dead. You have been listening to a common creed. Drink +the Fire-worshippers, if you will." + +"Here's to Zoroaster, then!" cried Richard. "I say, Rippy! we'll drink +the Fire-worshippers to-night won't we?" + +A fearful conspiratorial frown, that would not have disgraced Guido +Fawkes, was darted back from the, plastic features of Master Ripton. + +Richard gave his lungs loud play. + +"Why, what did you say about Blaizes, Rippy? Didn't you say it was fun?" + +Another hideous and silencing frown was Ripton's answer. Adrian matched +the innocent youths, and knew that there was talking under the table. +"See," thought he, "this boy has tasted his first scraggy morsel of life +today, and already he talks like an old stager, and has, if I mistake +not, been acting too. My respected chief," he apostrophized Sir Austin, +"combustibles are only the more dangerous for compression. This boy will +be ravenous for Earth when he is let loose, and very soon make his share +of it look as foolish as yonder game-pie!"--a prophecy Adrian kept to +himself. + +Uncle Algernon shambled in to see his nephew before the supper was +finished, and his more genial presence brought out a little of the plot. + +"Look here, uncle!" said Richard. "Would you let a churlish old brute of +a farmer strike you without making him suffer for it?" + +"I fancy I should return the compliment, my lad," replied his uncle. + +"Of course you would! So would I. And he shall suffer for it." The boy +looked savage, and his uncle patted him down. + +"I've boxed his son; I'll box him," said Richard, shouting for more wine. + +"What, boy! Is it old Blaize has been putting you up!" + +"Never mind, uncle!" The boy nodded mysteriously. + +'Look there!' Adrian read on Ripton's face, he says 'never mind,' and lets +it out! + +"Did we beat to-day, uncle?" + +"Yes, boy; and we'd beat them any day they bowl fair. I'd beat them on +one leg. There's only Watkins and Featherdene among them worth a +farthing." + +"We beat!" cries Richard. "Then we'll have some more wine, and drink +their healths." + +The bell was rung; wine ordered. Presently comes in heavy Benson, to say +supplies are cut off. One bottle, and no more. The Captain whistled: +Adrian shrugged. + +The bottle, however, was procured by Adrian subsequently. He liked +studying intoxicated urchins. + +One subject was at Richard's heart, about which he was reserved in the +midst of his riot. Too proud to inquire how his father had taken his +absence, he burned to hear whether he was in disgrace. He led to it +repeatedly, and it was constantly evaded by Algernon and Adrian. At +last, when the boy declared a desire to wish his father good-night, +Adrian had to tell him that he was to go straight to bed from the supper- +table. Young Richard's face fell at that, and his gaiety forsook him. +He marched to his room without another word. + +Adrian gave Sir Austin an able version of his son's behaviour and +adventures; dwelling upon this sudden taciturnity when he heard of his +father's resolution not to see him. The wise youth saw that his chief +was mollified behind his moveless mask, and went to bed, and Horace, +leaving Sir Austin in his study. Long hours the baronet sat alone. The +house had not its usual influx of Feverels that day. Austin Wentworth +was staying at Poer Hall, and had only come over for an hour. At +midnight the house breathed sleep. Sir Austin put on his cloak and cap, +and took the lamp to make his rounds. He apprehended nothing special, +but with a mind never at rest he constituted himself the sentinel of +Raynham. He passed the chamber where the Great-Aunt Grantley lay, who +was to swell Richard's fortune, and so perform her chief business on +earth. By her door he murmured, "Good creature! you sleep with a sense +of duty done," and paced on, reflecting, "She has not made money a demon +of discord," and blessed her. He had his thoughts at Hippias's somnolent +door, and to them the world might have subscribed. + +A monomaniac at large, watching over sane people in slumber! thinks +Adrian Harley, as he hears Sir Austin's footfall, and truly that was a +strange object to see.--Where is the fortress that has not one weak gate? +where the man who is sound at each particular angle? Ay, meditates the +recumbent cynic, more or less mad is not every mother's son? Favourable +circumstances--good air, good company, two or three good rules rigidly +adhered to--keep the world out of Bedlam. But, let the world fly into a +passion, and is not Bedlam the safest abode for it? + +Sir Austin ascended the stairs, and bent his steps leisurely toward the +chamber where his son was lying in the left wing of the Abbey. At the +end of the gallery which led to it he discovered a dim light. Doubting +it an illusion, Sir Austin accelerated his pace. This wing had aforetime +a bad character. Notwithstanding what years had done to polish it into +fair repute, the Raynham kitchen stuck to tradition, and preserved +certain stories of ghosts seen there, that effectually blackened it in +the susceptible minds of new house-maids and under-crooks, whose fears +would not allow the sinner to wash his sins. Sir Austin had heard of the +tales circulated by his domestics underground. He cherished his own +belief, but discouraged theirs, and it was treason at Raynham to be +caught traducing the left wing. As the baronet advanced, the fact of a +light burning was clear to him. A slight descent brought him into the +passage, and he beheld a poor human candle standing outside his son's +chamber. At the same moment a door closed hastily. He entered Richard's +room. The boy was absent. The bed was unpressed: no clothes about: +nothing to show that he had been there that night. Sir Austin felt +vaguely apprehensive. Has he gone to my room to await me? thought the +father's heart. Something like a tear quivered in his arid eyes as he +meditated and hoped this might be so. His own sleeping-room faced that +of his son. He strode to it with a quick heart. It was empty. Alarm +dislodged anger from his jealous heart, and dread of evil put a thousand +questions to him that were answered in air. After pacing up and down his +room he determined to go and ask the boy Thompson, as he called Ripton, +what was known to him. + +The chamber assigned to Master Ripton Thompson was at the northern +extremity of the passage, and overlooked Lobourne and the valley to the +West. The bed stood between the window and the door. Six Austin found +the door ajar, and the interior dark. To his surprise, the boy +Thompson's couch, as revealed by the rays of his lamp, was likewise +vacant. He was turning back when he fancied he heard the sibilation of a +whispering in the room. Sir Austin cloaked the lamp and trod silently +toward the window. The heads of his son Richard and the boy Thompson +were seen crouched against the glass, holding excited converse together. +Sir Austin listened, but he listened to a language of which he possessed +not the key. Their talk was of fire, and of delay: of expected agrarian +astonishment: of a farmer's huge wrath: of violence exercised upon +gentlemen, and of vengeance: talk that the boys jerked out by fits, and +that came as broken links of a chain impossible to connect. But they +awake curiosity. The baronet condescended to play the spy upon his son. + +Over Lobourne and the valley lay black night and innumerable stars. + +"How jolly I feel!" exclaimed Ripton, inspired by claret; and then, after +a luxurious pause--"I think that fellow has pocketed his guinea, and cut +his lucky." + +Richard allowed a long minute to pass, during which the baronet waited +anxiously for his voice, hardly recognizing it when he heard its altered +tones. + +"If he has, I'll go; and I'll do it myself." + +"You would?" returned Master Ripton. "Well, I'm hanged!--I say, if you +went to school, wouldn't you get into rows! Perhaps he hasn't found the +place where the box was stuck in. I think he funks it. I almost wish +you hadn't done it, upon my honour--eh? Look there! what was that? That +looked like something.--I say! do you think we shall ever be found out?" + +Master Ripton intoned this abrupt interrogation verb seriously. + +"I don't think about it," said Richard, all his faculties bent on signs +from Lobourne. + +"Well, but," Ripton persisted, "suppose we are found out?" + +"If we are, I must pay for it." + +Sir Austin breathed the better for this reply. He was beginning to +gather a clue to the dialogue. His son was engaged in a plot, and was, +moreover, the leader of the plot. He listened for further enlightenment. + +"What was the fellow's name?" inquired Ripton. + +His companion answered, "Tom Bakewell." + +"I'll tell you what," continued Ripton. "You let it all clean out to +your cousin and uncle at supper.--How capital claret is with partridge- +pie! What a lot I ate!--Didn't you see me frown?" + +The young sensualist was in an ecstasy of gratitude to his late +refection, and the slightest word recalled him to it. Richard answered +him: + +"Yes; and felt your kick. It doesn't matter. Rady's safe, and uncle +never blabs." + +"Well, my plan is to keep it close. You're never safe if you don't.--I +never drank much claret before," Ripton was off again. "Won't I now, +though! claret's my wine. You know, it may come out any day, and then +we're done for," he rather incongruously appended. + +Richard only took up the business-thread of his friend's rambling +chatter, and answered: + +"You've got nothing to do with it, if we are." + +"Haven't I, though! I didn't stick-in the box but I'm an accomplice, +that's clear. Besides," added Ripton, "do you think I should leave you +to bear it all on your shoulders? I ain't that sort of chap, Ricky, I +can tell you." + +Sir Austin thought more highly of the boy Thompson. Still it looked a +detestable conspiracy, and the altered manner of his son impressed him +strangely. He was not the boy of yesterday. To Sir Austin it seemed as +if a gulf had suddenly opened between them. The boy had embarked, and +was on the waters of life in his own vessel. It was as vain to call him +back as to attempt to erase what Time has written with the Judgment +Blood! This child, for whom he had prayed nightly in such a fervour and +humbleness to God, the dangers were about him, the temptations thick on +him, and the devil on board piloting. If a day had done so much, what +would years do? Were prayers and all the watchfulness he had expended of +no avail? + +A sensation of infinite melancholy overcame the poor gentleman--a thought +that he was fighting with a fate in this beloved boy. + +He was half disposed to arrest the two conspirators on the spot, and make +them confess, and absolve themselves; but it seemed to him better to keep +an unseen eye over his son: Sir Austin's old system prevailed. + +Adrian characterized this system well, in saying that Sir Austin wished +to be Providence to his son. + +If immeasurable love were perfect wisdom, one human being might almost +impersonate Providence to another. Alas! love, divine as it is, can do +no more than lighten the house it inhabits--must take its shape, +sometimes intensify its narrowness--can spiritualize, but not expel, the +old lifelong lodgers above-stairs and below. + +Sir Austin decided to continue quiescent. + +The valley still lay black beneath the large autumnal stars, and the +exclamations of the boys were becoming fevered and impatient. By-and-by +one insisted that he had seen a twinkle. The direction he gave was out +of their anticipations. Again the twinkle was announced. Both boys +started to their feet. It was a twinkle in the right direction now. + +"He's done it!" cried Richard, in great heat. "Now you may say old +Blaize'll soon be old Blazes, Rip. I hope he's asleep." + +"I'm sure he's snoring!--Look there! He's alight fast enough. He's dry. +He'll burn.--I say," Ripton re-assumed the serious intonation, "do you +think they'll ever suspect us?" + +"What if they do? We must brunt it." + +"Of course we will. But, I say! I wish you hadn't given them the scent, +though. I like to look innocent. I can't when I know people suspect me. +Lord! look there! Isn't it just beginning to flare up!" + +The farmer's grounds were indeed gradually standing out in sombre +shadows. + +"I'll fetch my telescope," said Richard. Ripton, somehow not liking to +be left alone, caught hold of him. + +"No; don't go and lose the best of it. Here, I'll throw open the window, +and we can see." + +The window was flung open, and the boys instantly stretched half their +bodies out of it; Ripton appearing to devour the rising flames with his +mouth: Richard with his eyes. + +Opaque and statuesque stood the figure of the baronet behind them. The +wind was low. Dense masses of smoke hung amid the darting snakes of +fire, and a red malign light was on the neighbouring leafage. No figures +could be seen. Apparently the flames had nothing to contend against, for +they were making terrible strides into the darkness. + +"Oh!" shouted Richard, overcome by excitement, "if I had my telescope! +We must have it! Let me go and fetch it! I Will!" + +The boys struggled together, and Sir Austin stepped back. As he did so, +a cry was heard in the passage. He hurried out, closed the chamber, and +came upon little Clare lying senseless along the door. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +In the morning that followed this night, great gossip was interchanged +between Raynham and Lobourne. The village told how Farmer Blaize, of +Belthorpe Farm, had his Pick feloniously set fire to; his stables had +caught fire, himself had been all but roasted alive in the attempt to +rescue his cattle, of which numbers had perished in the flames. Raynham +counterbalanced arson with an authentic ghost seen by Miss Clare in the +left wing of the Abbey--the ghost of a lady, dressed in deep mourning, a +scar on her forehead and a bloody handkerchief at her breast, frightful +to behold! and no wonder the child was frightened out of her wits, and +lay in a desperate state awaiting the arrival of the London doctors. It +was added that the servants had all threatened to leave in a body, and +that Sir Austin to appease them had promised to pull down the entire left +wing, like a gentleman; for no decent creature, said Lobourne, could +consent to live in a haunted house. + +Rumour for the nonce had a stronger spice of truth than usual. Poor +little Clare lay ill, and the calamity that had befallen Farmer Blaize, +as regards his rick, was not much exaggerated. Sir Austin caused an +account of it be given him at breakfast, and appeared so scrupulously +anxious to hear the exact extent of injury sustained by the farmer that +heavy Benson went down to inspect the scene. Mr. Benson returned, and, +acting under Adrian's malicious advice, framed a formal report of the +catastrophe, in which the farmer's breeches figured, and certain cooling +applications to a part of the farmer's person. Sir Austin perused it +without a smile. He took occasion to have it read out before the two +boys, who listened very demurely, as to ordinary newspaper incident; only +when the report particularized the garments damaged, and the unwonted +distressing position Farmer Blaize was reduced to in his bed, indecorous +fit of sneezing laid hold of Master Ripton Thompson, and Richard bit his +lip and burst into loud laughter, Ripton joining him, lost to +consequences. + +"I trust you feel for this poor man," said Sir Austin to his son, +somewhat sternly. He saw no sign of feeling. + +It was a difficult task for Sir Austin to keep his old countenance toward +the hope of Raynham, knowing him the accomplice-incendiary, and believing +the deed to have been unprovoked and wanton. But he must do so, he knew, +to let the boy have a fair trial against himself. Be it said, moreover, +that the baronet's possession of his son's secret flattered him. It +allowed him to act, and in a measure to feel, like Providence; enabled +him to observe and provide for the movements of creatures in the dark. +He therefore treated the boy as he commonly did, and Richard saw no +change in his father to make him think he was suspected. + +The youngster's game was not so easy against Adrian. Adrian did not +shoot or fish. Voluntarily he did nothing to work off the destructive +nervous fluid, or whatever it may be, which is in man's nature; so that +two culprit boys once in his power were not likely to taste the gentle +hand of mercy; and Richard and Ripton paid for many a trout and partridge +spared. At every minute of the day Ripton was thrown into sweats of +suspicion that discovery was imminent, by some stray remark or message +from Adrian. He was as a fish with the hook in his gills, mysteriously +caught without having nibbled; and dive into what depths he would he was +sensible of a summoning force that compelled him perpetually towards the +gasping surface, which he seemed inevitably approaching when the dinner- +bell sounded. There the talk was all of Farmer Blaize. If it dropped, +Adrian revived it, and his caressing way with Ripton was just such as a +keen sportsman feels toward the creature that had owned his skill, and is +making its appearance for the world to acknowledge the same. Sir Austin +saw the manoeuvres, and admired Adrian's shrewdness. But he had to check +the young natural lawyer, for the effect of so much masked examination +upon Richard was growing baneful. This fish also felt the hook in his +gills, but this fish was more of a pike, and lay in different waters, +where there were old stumps and black roots to wind about, and defy alike +strong pulling and delicate handling. In other words, Richard showed +symptoms of a disposition to take refuge in lies. + +"You know the grounds, my dear boy," Adrian observed to him. "Tell me; +do you think it easy to get to the rick unperceived? I hear they suspect +one of the farmer's turned-off hands." + +"I tell you I don't know the grounds," Richard sullenly replied. + +"Not?" Adrian counterfeited courteous astonishment. "I thought Mr. +Thompson said you were over there yesterday?" + +Ripton, glad to speak the truth, hurriedly assured Adrian that it was not +he had said so. + +"Not? You had good sport, gentlemen, hadn't you?" + +"Oh, yes!" mumbled the wretched victims, reddening as they remembered, in +Adrian's slightly drawled rusticity of tone, Farmer Blaize's first +address to them. + +"I suppose you were among the Fire-worshippers last night, too?" +persisted Adrian. "In some countries, I hear, they manage their best +sport at night-time, and beat up for game with torches. It must be a +fine sight. After all, the country would be dull if we hadn't a rip here +and there to treat us to a little conflagration." + +"A rip!" laughed Richard, to his friend's disgust and alarm at his +daring. "You don't mean this Rip, do you?" + +"Mr. Thompson fire a rick? I should as soon suspect you, my dear boy.-- +You are aware, young gentlemen, that it is rather a serious thing eh? In +this country, you know, the landlord has always been the pet of the Laws. +By the way," Adrian continued, as if diverging to another topic, "you met +two gentlemen of the road in your explorations yesterday, Magians. Now, +if I were a magistrate of the county, like Sir Miles Papworth, my +suspicions would light upon those gentlemen. A tinker and a ploughman, I +think you said, Mr. Thompson. Not? Well, say two ploughmen." + +"More likely two tinkers," said Richard. + +"Oh! if you wish to exclude the ploughman--was he out of employ?" + +Ripton, with Adrian's eyes inveterately fixed on him, stammered an +affirmative. + +"The tinker, or the ploughman?" + +"The ploughm--" Ingenuous Ripton looking about, as if to aid himself +whenever he was able to speak the truth, beheld Richard's face blackening +at him, and swallowed back half the word. + +"The ploughman!" Adrian took him up cheerily. "Then we have here a +ploughman out of employ. Given a ploughman out of employ, and a rick +burnt. The burning of a rick is an act of vengeance, and a ploughman out +of employ is a vengeful animal. The rick and the ploughman are advancing +to a juxtaposition. Motive being established, we have only to prove +their proximity at a certain hour, and our ploughman voyages beyond +seas." + +"Is it transportation for rick-burning?" inquired Ripton aghast. + +Adrian spoke solemnly: "They shave your head. You are manacled. Your +diet is sour bread and cheese-parings. You work in strings of twenties +and thirties. ARSON is branded on your backs in an enormous A. +Theological works are the sole literary recreation of the well-conducted +and deserving. Consider the fate of this poor fellow, and what an act of +vengeance brings him to! Do you know his name?" + +"How should I know his name?" said Richard, with an assumption of +innocence painful to see. + +Sir Austin remarked that no doubt it would soon be known, and Adrian +perceived that he was to quiet his line, marvelling a little at the +baronet's blindness to what was so clear. He would not tell, for that +would ruin his influence with Richard; still he wanted some present +credit for his discernment and devotion. The boys got away from dinner, +and, after deep consultation, agreed upon a course of conduct, which was +to commiserate with Farmer Blaize loudly, and make themselves look as +much like the public as it was possible for two young malefactors to +look, one of whom already felt Adrian's enormous A devouring his back +with the fierceness of the Promethean eagle, and isolating him forever +from mankind. Adrian relished their novel tactics sharply, and led them +to lengths of lamentation for Farmer Blaize. Do what they might, the +hook was in their gills. The farmer's whip had reduced them to bodily +contortions; these were decorous compared with the spiritual writhings +they had to perform under Adrian's manipulation. Ripton was fast +becoming a coward, and Richard a liar, when next morning Austin Wentworth +came over from Poer Hall bringing news that one Mr. Thomas Bakewell, +yeoman, had been arrested on suspicion of the crime of Arson and lodged +in jail, awaiting the magisterial pleasure of Sir Miles Papworth. +Austin's eye rested on Richard as he spoke these terrible tidings. The +hope of Raynham returned his look, perfectly calm, and had, moreover, the +presence of mind not to look at Ripton. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +As soon as they could escape, the boys got together into an obscure +corner of the park, and there took counsel of their extremity. + +"Whatever shall we do now?" asked Ripton of his leader. + +Scorpion girt with fire was never in a more terrible prison-house than +poor Ripton, around whom the raging element he had assisted to create +seemed to be drawing momently narrower circles. + +"There's only one chance," said Richard, coming to a dead halt, and +folding his arms resolutely. + +His comrade inquired with the utmost eagerness what that chance might be. + +Richard fixed his eyes on a flint, and replied: "We must rescue that +fellow from jail." + +Ripton gazed at his leader, and fell back with astonishment. "My dear +Ricky! but how are we to do it?" + +Richard, still perusing his flint, replied: "We must manage to get a file +in to him and a rope. It can be done, I tell you. I don't care what I +pay. I don't care what I do. He must be got out." + +"Bother that old Blaize!" exclaimed Ripton, taking off his cap to wipe +his frenzied forehead, and brought down his friend's reproof. + +"Never mind old Blaize now. Talk about letting it out! Look at you. +I'm ashamed of you. You talk about Robin Hood and King Richard! Why, +you haven't an atom of courage. Why, you let it out every second of the +day. Whenever Rady begins speaking you start; I can see the perspiration +rolling down you. Are you afraid?--And then you contradict yourself. +You never keep to one story. Now, follow me. We must risk everything to +get him out. Mind that! And keep out of Adrian's way as much as you +can. And keep to one story." + +With these sage directions the young leader marched his companion-culprit +down to inspect the jail where Tom Bakewell lay groaning over the results +of the super-mundane conflict, and the victim of it that he was. + +In Lobourne Austin Wentworth had the reputation of the poor man's friend; +a title he earned more largely ere he went to the reward God alone can +give to that supreme virtue. Dame Bakewell, the mother of Tom, on +hearing of her son's arrest, had run to comfort him and render him what +help she could; but this was only sighs and tears, and, oh deary me! +which only perplexed poor Tom, who bade her leave an unlucky chap to his +fate, and not make himself a thundering villain. Whereat the dame begged +him to take heart, and he should have a true comforter. "And though it's +a gentleman that's coming to you, Tom--for he never refuses a poor +body," said Mrs. Bakewell, "it's a true Christian, Tom! and the Lord +knows if the sight of him mayn't be the saving of you, for he's light to +look on, and a sermon to listen to, he is!" + +Tom was not prepossessed by the prospect of a sermon, and looked a sullen +dog enough when Austin entered his cell. He was surprised at the end of +half-an-hour to find himself engaged in man-to-man conversation with a +gentleman and a Christian. When Austin rose to go Tom begged permission +to shake his hand. + +"Take and tell young master up at the Abbey that I an't the chap to +peach. He'll know. He's a young gentleman as'll make any man do as he +wants 'em! He's a mortal wild young gentleman! And I'm a Ass! That's +where 'tis. But I an't a blackguard. Tell him that, sir!" + +This was how it came that Austin eyed young Richard seriously while he +told the news at Raynham. The boy was shy of Austin more than of Adrian. +Why, he did not know; but he made it a hard task for Austin to catch him +alone, and turned sulky that instant. Austin was not clever like Adrian: +he seldom divined other people's ideas, and always went the direct road +to his object; so instead of beating about and setting the boy on the +alert at all points, crammed to the muzzle with lies, he just said, "Tom +Bakewell told me to let you know he does not intend to peach on you," and +left him. + +Richard repeated the intelligence to Ripton, who cried aloud that Tom was +a brick. + +"He shan't suffer for it," said Richard, and pondered on a thicker rope +and sharper file. + +"But will your cousin tell?" was Ripton's reflection. + +"He!" Richard's lip expressed contempt. "A ploughman refuses to peach, +and you ask if one of our family will?" + +Ripton stood for the twentieth time reproved on this point. + +The boys had examined the outer walls of the jail, and arrived at the +conclusion that Tom's escape might be managed if Tom had spirit, and the +rope and file could be anyway reached to him. But to do this, somebody +must gain admittance to his cell, and who was to be taken into their +confidence? + +"Try your cousin," Ripton suggested, after much debate. + +Richard, smiling, wished to know if he meant Adrian. + +"No, no!" Ripton hurriedly reassured him. "Austin." + +The same idea was knocking at Richard's head. + +"Let's get the rope and file first," said he, and to Bursley they went +for those implements to defeat the law, Ripton procuring the file at one +shop and Richard the rope at another, with such masterly cunning did they +lay their measures for the avoidance of every possible chance of +detection. And better to assure this, in a wood outside Bursley Richard +stripped to his shirt and wound the rope round his body, tasting the +tortures of anchorites and penitential friars, that nothing should be +risked to make Tom's escape a certainty. Sir Austin saw the marks at +night as his son lay asleep, through the half-opened folds of his bed- +gown. + +It was a severe stroke when, after all their stratagems and trouble, +Austin Wentworth refused the office the boys had zealously designed for +him. Time pressed. In a few days poor Tom would have to face the +redoubtable Sir Miles, and get committed, for rumours of overwhelming +evidence to convict him were rife about Lobourne, and Farmer Blaize's +wrath was unappeasable. Again and again young Richard begged his cousin +not to see him disgraced, and to help him in this extremity. Austin +smiled on him. + +"My dear Ricky," said he, "there are two ways of getting out of a scrape: +a long way and a short way. When you've tried the roundabout method, and +failed, come to me, and I'll show you the straight route." + +Richard was too entirely bent upon the roundabout method to consider this +advice more than empty words, and only ground his teeth at Austin's +unkind refusal. + +He imparted to Ripton, at the eleventh hour, that they must do it +themselves, to which Ripton heavily assented. + +On the day preceding poor Tom's doomed appearance before the magistrate, +Dame Bakewell had an interview with Austin, who went to Raynham +immediately, and sought Adrian's counsel upon what was to be done. +Homeric laughter and nothing else could be got out of Adrian when he +heard of the doings of these desperate boys: how they had entered Dame +Bakewell's smallest of retail shops, and purchased tea, sugar, candles, +and comfits of every description, till the shop was clear of customers: +how they had then hurried her into her little back-parlour, where Richard +had torn open his shirt and revealed the coils of rope, and Ripton +displayed the point of a file from a serpentine recess in his jacket: how +they had then told the astonished woman that the rope she saw and the +file she saw were instruments for the liberation of her son; that there +existed no other means on earth to save him, they, the boys, having +unsuccessfully attempted all: how upon that Richard had tried with the +utmost earnestness to persuade her to disrobe and wind the rope round her +own person: and Ripton had aired his eloquence to induce her to secrete +the file: how, when she resolutely objected to the rope, both boys began +backing the file, and in an evil hour, she feared, said Dame Bakewell, +she had rewarded the gracious permission given her by Sir Miles Papworth +to visit her son, by tempting Tom to file the Law. Though, thanks be to +the Lord! Dame Bakewell added, Tom had turned up his nose at the file, +and so she had told young Master Richard, who swore very bad for a young +gentleman. + +"Boys are like monkeys," remarked Adrian, at the close of his explosions, +"the gravest actors of farcical nonsense that the world possesses. May I +never be where there are no boys! A couple of boys left to themselves +will furnish richer fun than any troop of trained comedians. No: no Art +arrives at the artlessness of nature in matters of comedy. You can't +simulate the ape. Your antics are dull. They haven't the charming +inconsequence of the natural animal. Lack at these two! Think of the +shifts they are put to all day long! They know I know all about it, and +yet their serenity of innocence is all but unruffled in my presence. +You're sorry to think about the end of the business, Austin? So am I! I +dread the idea of the curtain going down. Besides, it will do Ricky a +world of good. A practical lesson is the best lesson." + +"Sinks deepest," said Austin, "but whether he learns good or evil from it +is the question at stake." + +Adrian stretched his length at ease. + +"This will be his first nibble at experience, old Time's fruit, hateful +to the palate of youth! for which season only hath it any nourishment! +Experience! You know Coleridge's capital simile?--Mournful you call it? +Well! all wisdom is mournful. 'Tis therefore, coz, that the wise do love +the Comic Muse. Their own high food would kill them. You shall find +great poets, rare philosophers, night after night on the broad grin +before a row of yellow lights and mouthing masks. Why? Because all's +dark at home. The stage is the pastime of great minds. That's how it +comes that the stage is now down. An age of rampant little minds, my +dear Austin! How I hate that cant of yours about an Age of Work--you, +and your Mortons, and your parsons Brawnley, rank radicals all of you, +base materialists! What does Diaper Sandoe sing of your Age of Work? +Listen! + + 'An Age of betty tit for tat, + An Age of busy gabble: + An Age that's like a brewer's vat, + Fermenting for the rabble! + + 'An Age that's chaste in Love, but lax + To virtuous abuses: + Whose gentlemen and ladies wax + Too dainty for their uses. + + 'An Age that drives an Iron Horse, + Of Time and Space defiant; + Exulting in a Giant's Force, + And trembling at the Giant. + + 'An Age of Quaker hue and cut, + By Mammon misbegotten; + See the mad Hamlet mouth and strut! + And mark the Kings of Cotton! + + 'From this unrest, lo, early wreck'd, + A Future staggers crazy, + Ophelia of the Ages, deck'd + With woeful weed and daisy!'" + +Murmuring, "Get your parson Brawnley to answer that!" Adrian changed the +resting-place of a leg, and smiled. The Age was an old battle-field +between him and Austin. + +"My parson Brawnley, as you call him, has answered it," said Austin, "not +by hoping his best, which would probably leave the Age to go mad to your +satisfaction, but by doing it. And he has and will answer your Diaper +Sandoe in better verse, as he confutes him in a better life." + +"You don't see Sandoe's depth," Adrian replied. "Consider that phrase, +'Ophelia of the Ages'! Is not Brawnley, like a dozen other leading +spirits--I think that's your term just the metaphysical Hamlet to drive +her mad? She, poor maid! asks for marriage and smiling babes, while my +lord lover stands questioning the Infinite, and rants to the Impalpable." + +Austin laughed. "Marriage and smiling babes she would have in abundance, +if Brawnley legislated. Wait till you know him. He will be over at Poer +Hall shortly, and you will see what a Man of the Age means. But now, +pray, consult with me about these boys." + +"Oh, those boys!" Adrian tossed a hand. "Are there boys of the Age as +well as men? Not? Then boys are better than men: boys are for all Ages. +What do you think, Austin? They've been studying Latude's Escape. I +found the book open in Ricky's room, on the top of Jonathan Wild. +Jonathan preserved the secrets of his profession, and taught them +nothing. So they're going to make a Latude of Mr. Tom Bakewell. He's to +be Bastille Bakewell, whether he will or no. Let them. Let the wild +colt run free! We can't help them. We can only look on. We should +spoil the play." + +Adrian always made a point of feeding the fretful beast Impatience with +pleasantries--a not congenial diet; and Austin, the most patient of human +beings, began to lose his self-control. + +"You talk as if Time belonged to you, Adrian. We have but a few hours +left us. Work first, and joke afterwards. The boy's fate is being +decided now." + +"So is everybody's, my dear Austin!" yawned the epicurean. + +"Yes, but this boy is at present under our guardianship--under yours +especially." + +"Not yet! not yet!" Adrian interjected languidly. "No getting into +scrapes when I have him. The leash, young hound! the collar, young colt! +I'm perfectly irresponsible at present." + +"You may have something different to deal with when you are responsible, +if you think that." + +"I take my young prince as I find him, coz: a Julian, or a Caracalla: a +Constantine, or a Nero. Then, if he will play the fiddle to a +conflagration, he shall play it well: if he must be a disputatious +apostate, at any rate he shall understand logic and men, and have the +habit of saying his prayers." + +"Then you leave me to act alone?" said Austin, rising. + +"Without a single curb!" Adrian gesticulated an acquiesced withdrawal. +"I'm sure you would not, still more certain you cannot, do harm. And be +mindful of my prophetic words: Whatever's done, old Blaize will have to +be bought off. There's the affair settled at once. I suppose I must go +to the chief to-night and settle it myself. We can't see this poor devil +condemned, though it's nonsense to talk of a boy being the prime +instigator." + +Austin cast an eye at the complacent languor of the wise youth, his +cousin, and the little that he knew of his fellows told him he might talk +forever here, and not be comprehended. The wise youth's two ears were +stuffed with his own wisdom. One evil only Adrian dreaded, it was clear +--the action of the law. + +As he was moving away, Adrian called out to him, "Stop, Austin! There! +don't be anxious! You invariably take the glum side. I've done +something. Never mind what. If you go down to Belthorpe, be civil, but +not obsequious. You remember the tactics of Scipio Africanus against the +Punic elephants? Well, don't say a word--in thine ear, coz: I've turned +Master Blaize's elephants. If they charge, 'twill bye a feint, and back +to the destruction of his serried ranks! You understand. Not? Well, +'tis as well. Only, let none say that I sleep. If I must see him to- +night, I go down knowing he has not got us in his power." The wise youth +yawned, and stretched out a hand for any book that might be within his +reach. Austin left him to look about the grounds for Richard. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +A little laurel-shaded temple of white marble looked out on the river +from a knoll bordering the Raynham beechwoods, and was dubbed by Adrian +Daphne's Bower. To this spot Richard had retired, and there Austin found +him with his head buried in his hands, a picture of desperation, whose +last shift has been defeated. He allowed Austin to greet him and sit by +him without lifting his head. Perhaps his eyes were not presentable. + +"Where's your friend?" Austin began. + +"Gone!" was the answer, sounding cavernous from behind hair and fingers. +An explanation presently followed, that a summons had come for him in the +morning from Mr. Thompson; and that Mr. Ripton had departed against his +will. + +In fact, Ripton had protested that he would defy his parent and remain by +his friend in the hour of adversity and at the post of danger. Sir +Austin signified his opinion that a boy should obey his parent, by giving +orders to Benson for Ripton's box to be packed and ready before noon; and +Ripton's alacrity in taking the baronet's view of filial duty was as +little feigned as his offer to Richard to throw filial duty to the winds. +He rejoiced that the Fates had agreed to remove him from the very hot +neighbourhood of Lobourne, while he grieved, like an honest lad, to see +his comrade left to face calamity alone. The boys parted amicably, as +they could hardly fail to do, when Ripton had sworn fealty to the +Feverals with a warmth that made him declare himself bond, and due to +appear at any stated hour and at any stated place to fight all the +farmers in England, on a mandate from the heir of the house. + +"So you're left alone," said Austin, contemplating the boy's shapely +head. "I'm glad of it. We never know what's in us till we stand by +ourselves." + +There appeared to be no answer forthcoming. Vanity, however, replied at +last, "He wasn't much support." + +"Remember his good points now he's gone, Ricky." + +"Oh! he was staunch," the boy grumbled. + +"And a staunch friend is not always to be found. Now, have you tried +your own way of rectifying this business, Ricky?" + +"I have done everything." + +"And failed!" + +There was a pause, and then the deep-toned evasion-- + +"Tom Bakewell's a coward!" + +"I suppose, poor fellow," said Austin, in his kind way, "he doesn't want +to get into a deeper mess. I don't think he's a coward." + +"He is a coward," cried Richard. "Do you think if I had a file I would +stay in prison? I'd be out the first night! And he might have had the +rope, too--a rope thick enough for a couple of men his size and weight. +Ripton and I and Ned Markham swung on it for an hour, and it didn't give +way. He's a coward, and deserves his fate. I've no compassion for a +coward." + +"Nor I much," said Austin. + +Richard had raised his head in the heat of his denunciation of poor Tom. +He would have hidden it had he known the thought in Austin's clear eyes +while he faced them. + +"I never met a coward myself," Austin continued. "I have heard of one or +two. One let an innocent man die for him." + +"How base!" exclaimed the boy. + +"Yes, it was bad," Austin acquiesced. + +"Bad!" Richard scorned the poor contempt. "How I would have spurned him! +He was a coward!" + +"I believe he pleaded the feelings of his family in his excuse, and tried +every means to get the man off. I have read also in the confessions of a +celebrated philosopher, that in his youth he committed some act of +pilfering, and accused a young servant-girl of his own theft, who was +condemned and dismissed for it, pardoning her guilty accuser." + +"What a coward!" shouted Richard. "And he confessed it publicly?" + +"You may read it yourself." + +"He actually wrote it down, and printed it?" + +"You have the book in your father's library. Would you have done so +much?" + +Richard faltered. No! he admitted that he never could have told people. + +"Then who is to call that man a coward?" said Austin. "He expiated his +cowardice as all who give way in moments of weakness, and are not +cowards, must do. The coward chooses to think 'God does not see.' I +shall escape.' He who is not a coward, and has succumbed, knows that God +has seen all, and it is not so hard a task for him to make his heart bare +to the world. Worse, I should fancy it, to know myself an impostor when +men praised me." + +Young Richard's eyes were wandering on Austin's gravely cheerful face. A +keen intentness suddenly fixed them, and he dropped his head. + +"So I think you're wrong, Ricky, in calling this poor Tom a coward +because he refuses to try your means of escape," Austin resumed. "A +coward hardly objects to drag in his accomplice. And, where the person +involved belongs to a great family, it seems to me that for a poor +plough-lad to volunteer not to do so speaks him anything but a coward." + +Richard was dumb. Altogether to surrender his rope and file was a +fearful sacrifice, after all the time, trepidation, and study he had +spent on those two saving instruments. If he avowed Tom's manly +behaviour, Richard Feverel was in a totally new position. Whereas, by +keeping Tom a coward, Richard Feverel was the injured one, and to seem +injured is always a luxury; sometimes a necessity, whether among boys or +men. + +In Austin the Magian conflict would not have lasted long. He had but a +blind notion of the fierceness with which it raged in young Richard. +Happily for the boy, Austin was not a preacher. A single instance, a +cant phrase, a fatherly manner, might have wrecked him, by arousing +ancient or latent opposition. The born preacher we feel instinctively to +be our foe. He may do some good to the wretches that have been struck +down and lie gasping on the battlefield: he rouses antagonism in the +strong. Richard's nature, left to itself, wanted little more than an +indication of the proper track, and when he said, "Tell me what I can do, +Austin?" he had fought the best half of the battle. His voice was +subdued. Austin put his hand on the boy's shoulder. + +"You must go down to Farmer Blaize." + +"Well!" said Richard, sullenly divining the deed of penance. + +"You'll know what to say to him when you're there." + +The boy bit his lip and frowned. "Ask a favour of that big brute, +Austin? I can't!" + +"Just tell him the whole case, and that you don't intend to stand by and +let the poor fellow suffer without a friend to help him out of his +scrape." + +"But, Austin," the boy pleaded, "I shall have to ask him to help off Tom +Bakewell! How can I ask him, when I hate him?" + +Austin bade him go, and think nothing of the consequences till he got +there. + +Richard groaned in soul. + +"You've no pride, Austin." + +"Perhaps not." + +"You don't know what it is to ask a favour of a brute you hate." + +Richard stuck to that view of the case, and stuck to it the faster the +more imperatively the urgency of a movement dawned upon him. + +"Why," continued the boy, "I shall hardly be able to keep my fists off +him!" + +"Surely you've punished him enough, boy?" said Austin. + +"He struck me!" Richard's lip quivered. "He dared not come at me with +his hands. He struck me with a whip. He'll be telling everybody that he +horsewhipped me, and that I went down and begged his pardon. Begged his +pardon! A Feverel beg his pardon! Oh, if I had my will!" + +"The man earns his bread, Ricky. You poached on his grounds. He turned +you off, and you fired his rick." + +"And I'll pay him for his loss. And I won't do any more." + +"Because you won't ask a favour of him?" + +"No! I will not ask a favour of him." + +Austin looked at the boy steadily. "You prefer to receive a favour from +poor Tom Bakewell?" + +At Austin's enunciation of this obverse view of the matter Richard raised +his brow. Dimly a new light broke in upon him. "Favour from Tom +Bakewell, the ploughman? How do you mean, Austin?" + +"To save yourself an unpleasantness you permit a country lad to sacrifice +himself for you? I confess I should not have so much pride." + +"Pride!" shouted Richard, stung by the taunt, and set his sight hard at +the blue ridges of the hills. + +Not knowing for the moment what else to do, Austin drew a picture of Tom +in prison, and repeated Tom's volunteer statement. The picture, though +his intentions were far from designing it so, had to Richard, whose +perception of humour was infinitely keener, a horrible chaw-bacon smack +about it. Visions of a grinning lout, open from ear to ear, unkempt, +coarse, splay-footed, rose before him and afflicted him with the +strangest sensations of disgust and comicality, mixed up with pity and +remorse--a sort of twisted pathos. There lay Tom; hobnail Tom! a bacon- +munching, reckless, beer-swilling animal! and yet a man; a dear brave +human heart notwithstanding; capable of devotion and unselfishness. The +boy's better spirit was touched, and it kindled his imagination to +realize the abject figure of poor clodpole Tom, and surround it with a +halo of mournful light. His soul was alive. Feelings he had never known +streamed in upon him as from an ethereal casement, an unwonted +tenderness, an embracing humour, a consciousness of some ineffable glory, +an irradiation of the features of humanity. All this was in the bosom of +the boy, and through it all the vision of an actual hob-nail Tom, coarse, +unkempt, open from ear to ear; whose presence was a finger of shame to +him and an oppression of clodpole; yet toward whom he felt just then a +loving-kindness beyond what he felt for any living creature. He laughed +at him, and wept over him. He prized him, while he shrank from him. It +was a genial strife of the angel in him with constituents less divine; +but the angel was uppermost and led the van--extinguished loathing, +humanized laughter, transfigured pride--pride that would persistently +contemplate the corduroys of gaping Tom, and cry to Richard, in the very +tone of Adrian's ironic voice, "Behold your benefactor!" + +Austin sat by the boy, unaware of the sublimer tumult he had stirred. +Little of it was perceptible in Richard's countenance. The lines of his +mouth were slightly drawn; his eyes hard set into the distance. He +remained thus many minutes. Finally he jumped to his legs, saying, "I'll +go at once to old Blaize and tell him." + +Austin grasped his hand, and together they issued out of Daphne's Bower, +in the direction of Lobourne. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +Farmer Blaize was not so astonished at the visit of Richard Feverel as +that young gentleman expected him to be. The farmer, seated in his easy- +chair in the little low-roofed parlour of an old-fashioned farm-house, +with a long clay pipe on the table at his elbow, and a veteran pointer at +his feet, had already given audience to three distinguished members of +the Feverel blood, who had come separately, according to their accustomed +secretiveness, and with one object. In the morning it was Sir Austin +himself. Shortly after his departure, arrived Austin Wentworth; close on +his heels, Algernon, known about Lobourne as the Captain, popular +wherever he was known. Farmer Blaize reclined m considerable elation. +He had brought these great people to a pretty low pitch. He had welcomed +them hospitably, as a British yeoman should; but not budged a foot in his +demands: not to the baronet: not to the Captain: not to good young Mr. +Wentworth. For Farmer Blaize was a solid Englishman; and, on hearing +from the baronet a frank confession of the hold he had on the family, he +determined to tighten his hold, and only relax it in exchange for +tangible advantages--compensation to his pocket, his wounded person, and +his still more wounded sentiments: the total indemnity being, in round +figures, three hundred pounds, and a spoken apology from the prime +offender, young Mister Richard. Even then there was a reservation. +Provided, the farmer said, nobody had been tampering with any of his +witnesses. In that ease Farmer Blaize declared the money might go, and +he would transport Tom Bakewell, as he had sworn he would. And it goes +hard, too, with an accomplice, by law, added the farmer, knocking the +ashes leisurely out of his pipe. He had no wish to bring any disgrace +anywhere; he respected the inmates of Raynham Abbey, as in duty bound; he +should be sorry to see them in trouble. Only no tampering with his +witnesses. He was a man for Law. Rank was much: money was much: but Law +was more. In this country Law was above the sovereign. To tamper with +the Law was treason to the realm. + +"I come to you direct," the baronet explained. "I tell you candidly what +way I discovered my son to be mixed up in this miserable affair. I +promise you indemnity for your loss, and an apology that shall, I trust, +satisfy your feelings, assuring you that to tamper with witnesses is not +the province of a Feverel. All I ask of you in return is, not to press +the prosecution. At present it rests with you. I am bound to do all +that lies in my power for this imprisoned man. How and wherefore my son +was prompted to suggest, or assist in, such an act, I cannot explain, for +I do not know." + +"Hum!" said the farmer. "I think I do." + +"You know the cause?" Sir Austin stared. "I beg you to confide it to +me." + +"'Least, I can pretty nigh neighbour it with a gues," said the farmer. " +We an't good friends, Sir Austin, me and your son, just now--not to say +cordial. I, ye see, Sir Austin, I'm a man as don't like young gentlemen +a-poachin' on his grounds without his permission,--in special when birds +is plentiful on their own. It appear he do like it. Consequently I has +to flick this whip--as them fellers at the races: All in this 'ere Ring's +mine! as much as to say; and who's been hit, he's had fair warnin'. I'm +sorry for't, but that's just the case." + +Sir Austin retired to communicate with his son, when he should find him. + +Algernon's interview passed off in ale and promises. He also assured +Farmer Blaize that no Feverel could be affected by his proviso. + +No less did Austin Wentworth. The farmer was satisfied. + +"Money's safe, I know," said he; "now for the 'pology!" and Farmer Blaize +thrust his legs further out, and his head further back. + +The farmer naturally reflected that the three separate visits had been +conspired together. Still the baronet's frankness, and the baronet's not +having reserved himself for the third and final charge, puzzled him. He +was considering whether they were a deep, or a shallow lot, when young +Richard was announced. + +A pretty little girl with the roses of thirteen springs in her cheeks, +and abundant beautiful bright tresses, tripped before the boy, and +loitered shyly by the farmer's arm-chair to steal a look at the handsome +new-comer. She was introduced to Richard as the farmer's niece, Lucy +Desborough, the daughter of a lieutenant in the Royal Navy, and, what was +better, though the farmer did not pronounce it so loudly, a real good +girl. + +Neither the excellence of her character, nor her rank in life, tempted +Richard to inspect the little lady. He made an awkward bow, and sat +down. + +The farmer's eyes twinkled. "Her father," he continued, "fought and fell +for his coontry. A man as fights for's coontry's a right to hould up his +head--ay! with any in the land. Desb'roughs o' Dorset! d'ye know that +family, Master Feverel?" + +Richard did not know them, and, by his air, did not desire to become +acquainted with any offshoot of that family. + +"She can make puddens and pies," the farmer went on, regardless of his +auditor's gloom. "She's a lady, as good as the best of 'em. I don't +care about their being Catholics--the Desb'roughs o' Dorset are +gentlemen. And she's good for the pianer, too! She strums to me of +evenin's. I'm for the old tunes: she's for the new. Gal-like! While +she's with me she shall be taught things use'l. She can parley-voo a +good 'un and foot it, as it goes; been in France a couple of year. I +prefer the singin' of 't to the talkin' of 't. Come, Luce! toon up--eh? +--Ye wun't? That song abort the Viffendeer--a female"--Farmer Blaize +volunteered the translation of the title--"who wears the--you guess what! +and marches along with the French sojers: a pretty brazen bit o' goods, I +sh'd fancy." + +Mademoiselle Lucy corrected her uncle's French, but objected to do more. +The handsome cross boy had almost taken away her voice for speech, as it +was, and sing in his company she could not; so she stood, a hand on her +uncle's chair to stay herself from falling, while she wriggled a dozen +various shapes of refusal, and shook her head at the farmer with fixed +eyes. + +"Aha!" laughed the farmer, dismissing her, "they soon learn the +difference 'twixt the young 'un and the old 'un. Go along, Luce! and +learn yer lessons for to-morrow." + +Reluctantly the daughter of the Royal Navy glided away. Her uncle's head +followed her to the door, where she dallied to catch a last impression of +the young stranger's lowering face, and darted through. + +Farmer Blaize laughed and chuckled. "She an't so fond of her uncle as +that, every day! Not that she an't a good nurse--the kindest little soul +you'd meet of a winter's walk! She'll read t' ye, and make drinks, and +sing, too, if ye likes it, and she won't be tired. A obstinate good 'un, +she be! Bless her!" + +The farmer may have designed, by these eulogies of his niece, to give his +visitor time to recover his composure, and establish a common topic. His +diversion only irritated and confused our shame-eaten youth. Richard's +intention had been to come to the farmer's threshold: to summon the +farmer thither, and in a loud and haughty tone then and there to take +upon himself the whole burden of the charge against Tom Bakewell. He had +strayed, during his passage to Belthorpe, somewhat back to his old +nature; and his being compelled to enter the house of his enemy, sit in +his chair, and endure an introduction to his family, was more than he +bargained for. He commenced blinking hard in preparation for the +horrible dose to which delay and the farmer's cordiality added +inconceivable bitters. Farmer Blaize was quite at his ease; nowise in a +hurry. He spoke of the weather and the harvest: of recent doings up at +the Abbey: glanced over that year's cricketing; hoped that no future +Feverel would lose a leg to the game. Richard saw and heard Arson in it +all. He blinked harder as he neared the cup. In a moment of silence, he +seized it with a gasp. + +"Mr. Blaize! I have come to tell you that I am the person who set fire +to your rick the other night." + +An odd consternation formed about the farmer's mouth. He changed his +posture, and said, "Ay? that's what ye're come to tell me sir?" + +"Yes!" said Richard, firmly. + +"And that be all?" + +"Yes!" Richard reiterated. + +The farmer again changed his posture. "Then, my lad, ye've come to tell +me a lie!" + +Farmer Blaize looked straight at the boy, undismayed by the dark flush of +ire he had kindled. + +"You dare to call me a liar!" cried Richard, starting up. + +"I say," the farmer renewed his first emphasis, and smacked his thigh +thereto, "that's a lie!" + +Richard held out his clenched fist. "You have twice insulted me. You +have struck me: you have dared to call me a liar. I would have +apologized--I would have asked your pardon, to have got off that fellow +in prison. Yes! I would have degraded myself that another man should not +suffer for my deed"-- + +"Quite proper!" interposed the farmer. + +"And you take this opportunity of insulting me afresh. You're a coward, +sir! nobody but a coward would have insulted me in his own house." + +"Sit ye down, sit ye down, young master," said the farmer, indicating the +chair and cooling the outburst with his hand. "Sit ye down. Don't ye be +hasty. If ye hadn't been hasty t'other day, we sh'd a been friends yet. +Sit ye down, sir. I sh'd be sorry to reckon you out a liar, Mr. Feverel, +or anybody o' your name. I respects yer father though we're opp'site +politics. I'm willin' to think well o' you. What I say is, that as you +say an't the trewth. Mind! I don't like you none the worse for't. But +it an't what is. That's all! You knows it as well's I!" + +Richard, disdaining to show signs of being pacified, angrily reseated +himself. The farmer spoke sense, and the boy, after his late interview +with Austin, had become capable of perceiving vaguely that a towering +passion is hardly the justification for a wrong course of conduct. + +"Come," continued the farmer, not unkindly, "what else have you to say?" + +Here was the same bitter cup he had already once drained brimming at +Richard's lips again! Alas, poor human nature! that empties to the dregs +a dozen of these evil drinks, to evade the single one which Destiny, less +cruel, had insisted upon. + +The boy blinked and tossed it off. + +"I came to say that I regretted the revenge I had taken on you for your +striking me." + +Farmer Blaize nodded. + +"And now ye've done, young gentleman?" + +Still another cupful! + +"I should be very much obliged," Richard formally began, but his stomach +was turned; he could but sip and sip, and gather a distaste which +threatened to make the penitential act impossible. "Very much obliged," +he repeated: "much obliged, if you would be so kind," and it struck him +that had he spoken this at first he would have given it a wording more +persuasive with the farmer and more worthy of his own pride: more honest, +in fact: for a sense of the dishonesty of what he was saying caused him +to cringe and simulate humility to deceive the farmer, and the more he +said the less he felt his words, and, feeling them less, he inflated them +more. "So kind," he stammered, "so kind" (fancy a Feverel asking this +big brute to be so kind!) "as to do me the favour" (me the favour!) "to +exert yourself" (it's all to please Austin) "to endeavour to--hem! to" +(there's no saying it!)-- + +The cup was full as ever. Richard dashed at it again. + +"What I came to ask is, whether you would have the kindness to try what +you could do" (what an infamous shame to have to beg like this!) "do to +save--do to ensure--whether you would have the kindness" It seemed out +of all human power to gulp it down. The draught grew more and more +abhorrent. To proclaim one's iniquity, to apologize for one's +wrongdoing; thus much could be done; but to beg a favour of the offended +party--that was beyond the self-abasement any Feverel could consent to. +Pride, however, whose inevitable battle is against itself, drew aside the +curtains of poor Tom's prison, crying a second time, "Behold your +Benefactor!" and, with the words burning in his ears, Richard swallowed +the dose: + +"Well, then, I want you, Mr. Blaize,--if you don't mind--will you help me +to get this man Bakewell off his punishment?" + +To do Farmer Blaize justice, he waited very patiently for the boy, though +he could not quite see why he did not take the gate at the first offer. + +"Oh!" said he, when he heard and had pondered on the request. "Hum! ha! +we'll see about it t'morrow. But if he's innocent, you know, we shan't +mak'n guilty." + +"It was I did it!" Richard declared. + +The farmer's half-amused expression sharpened a bit. + +"So, young gentleman! and you're sorry for the night's work?" + +"I shall see that you are paid the full extent of your losses." + +"Thank'ee," said the farmer drily. + +"And, if this poor man is released to-morrow, I don't care what the +amount is." + +Farmer Blaize deflected his head twice in silence. "Bribery," one motion +expressed: "Corruption," the other. + +"Now," said he, leaning forward, and fixing his elbows on his knees, +while he counted the case at his fingers' ends, "excuse the liberty, but +wishin' to know where this 'ere money's to come from, I sh'd like jest +t'ask if so be Sir Austin know o' this?" + +"My father knows nothing of it," replied Richard. + +The farmer flung back in his chair. "Lie number Two," said his +shoulders, soured by the British aversion to being plotted at, and not +dealt with openly. + +"And ye've the money ready, young gentleman?" + +"I shall ask my father for it." + +"And he'll hand't out?" + +"Certainly he will!" + +Richard had not the slightest intention of ever letting his father into +his counsels. + +"A good three hundred pounds, ye know?" the farmer suggested. + +No consideration of the extent of damages, and the size of the sum, +affected young Richard, who said boldly, "He will not object when I tell +him I want that sum." + +It was natural Farmer Blaize should be a trifle suspicious that a youth's +guarantee would hardly be given for his father's readiness to disburse +such a thumping bill, unless he had previously received his father's +sanction and authority. + +"Hum!" said he, "why not 'a told him before?" + +The farmer threw an objectionable shrewdness into his query, that caused +Richard to compress his mouth and glance high. + +Farmer Blaize was positive 'twas a lie. + +"Hum! Ye still hold to't you fired the rick?" he asked. + +"The blame is mine!" quoth Richard, with the loftiness of a patriot of +old Rome. + +"Na, na!" the straightforward Briton put him aside. "Ye did't, or ye +didn't do't. Did ye do't, or no?" + +Thrust in a corner, Richard said, "I did it." + +Farmer Blaize reached his hand to the bell. It was answered in an +instant by little Lucy, who received orders to fetch in a dependent at +Belthorpe going by the name of the Bantam, and made her exit as she had +entered, with her eyes on the young stranger. + +"Now," said the farmer, "these be my principles. I'm a plain man, Mr. +Feverel. Above board with me, and you'll find me handsome. Try to +circumvent me, and I'm a ugly customer. I'll show you I've no animosity. +Your father pays--you apologize. That's enough for me! Let Tom Bakewell +fight't out with the Law, and I'll look on. The Law wasn't on the spot, +I suppose? so the Law ain't much witness. But I am. Leastwise the +Bantam is. I tell you, young gentleman, the Bantam saw't! It's no moral +use whatever your denyin' that ev'dence. And where's the good, sir, I +ask? What comes of 't? Whether it be you, or whether it be Tom +Bakewell--ain't all one? If I holds back, ain't it sim'lar? It's the +trewth I want! And here't comes," added the farmer, as Miss Lucy ushered +in the Bantam, who presented a curious figure for that rare divinity to +enliven. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +In build of body, gait and stature, Giles Jinkson, the Bantam, was a +tolerably fair representative of the Punic elephant, whose part, with +diverse anticipations, the generals of the Blaize and Feverel forces, +from opposing ranks, expected him to play. Giles, surnamed the Bantam, +on account of some forgotten sally of his youth or infancy, moved and +looked elephantine. It sufficed that Giles was well fed to assure that +Giles was faithful--if uncorrupted. The farm which supplied to him +ungrudging provender had all his vast capacity for work in willing +exercise: the farmer who held the farm his instinct reverenced as the +fountain source of beef and bacon, to say nothing of beer, which was +plentiful at Belthorpe, and good. This Farmer Blaize well knew, and he +reckoned consequently that here was an animal always to be relied on--a +sort of human composition out of dog, horse, and bull, a cut above each +of these quadrupeds in usefulness, and costing proportionately more, but +on the whole worth the money, and therefore invaluable, as everything +worth its money must be to a wise man. When the stealing of grain had +been made known at Belthorpe, the Bantam, a fellow-thresher with Tom +Bakewell, had shared with him the shadow of the guilt. Farmer Blaize, if +he hesitated which to suspect, did not debate a second as to which he +would discard; and, when the Bantam said he had seen Tom secreting +pilkins in a sack, Farmer Blaize chose to believe him, and off went poor +Tom, told to rejoice in the clemency that spared his appearance at +Sessions. + +The Bantam's small sleepy orbits saw many things, and just at the right +moment, it seemed. He was certainly the first to give the clue at +Belthorpe on the night of the conflagration, and he may, therefore, have +seen poor Tom retreating stealthily from the scene, as he averred he did. +Lobourne had its say on the subject. Rustic Lobourne hinted broadly at a +young woman in the case, and, moreover, told a tale of how these fellow- +threshers had, in noble rivalry, one day turned upon each other to see +which of the two threshed the best; whereof the Bantam still bore marks, +and malice, it was said. However, there he stood, and tugged his +forelocks to the company, and if Truth really had concealed herself in +him she must have been hard set to find her unlikeliest hiding-place. + +"Now," said the farmer, marshalling forth his elephant with the +confidence of one who delivers his ace of trumps, "tell this young +gentleman what ye saw on the night of the fire, Bantam!" + +The Bantam jerked a bit of a bow to his patron, and then swung round, +fully obscuring him from Richard. + +Richard fixed his eyes on the floor, while the Bantam in rudest Doric +commenced his narrative. Knowing what was to come, and thoroughly nerved +to confute the main incident, Richard barely listened to his barbarous +locution: but when the recital arrived at the point where the Bantam +affirmed he had seen "T'm Baak'll wi's owen hoies," Richard faced him, +and was amazed to find himself being mutely addressed by a series of +intensely significant grimaces, signs, and winks. + +"What do you mean? Why are you making those faces at me?" cried the boy +indignantly. + +Farmer Blaize leaned round the Bantam to have a look at him, and beheld +the stolidest mask ever given to man. + +"Bain't makin' no faces at nobody," growled the sulky elephant. + +The farmer commanded him to face about and finish. + +"A see T'm Baak'll," the Bantam recommenced, and again the contortions of +a horrible wink were directed at Richard. The boy might well believe +this churl was lying, and he did, and was emboldened to exclaim-- + +"You never saw Tom Bakewell set fire to that rick!" + +The Bantam swore to it, grimacing an accompaniment. + +"I tell you," said Richard, "I put the lucifers there myself!" + +The suborned elephant was staggered. He meant to telegraph to the young +gentleman that he was loyal and true to certain gold pieces that had been +given him, and that in the right place and at the right time he should +prove so. Why was he thus suspected? Why was he not understood? + +"A thowt I see 'un, then," muttered the Bantam, trying a middle course. + +This brought down on him the farmer, who roared, "Thought! Ye thought! +What d'ye mean? Speak out, and don't be thinkin'. Thought? What the +devil's that?" + +"How could he see who it was on a pitch-dark night?" Richard put in. + +"Thought!" the farmer bellowed louder. "Thought--Devil take ye, when ye +took ye oath on't. Hulloa! What are ye screwin' yer eye at Mr. Feverel +for?--I say, young gentleman, have you spoke to this chap before now?" + +"I?" replied Richard. "I have not seen him before." + +Farmer Blaize grasped the two arms of the chair he sat on, and glared his +doubts. + +"Come," said he to the Bantam, "speak out, and ha' done wi't. Say what +ye saw, and none o' yer thoughts. Damn yer thoughts! Ye saw Tom +Bakewell fire that there rick!" The farmer pointed at some musk-pots in +the window. "What business ha' you to be a-thinkin'? You're a witness? +Thinkin' an't ev'dence. What'll ye say to morrow before magistrate! +Mind! what you says today, you'll stick by to-morrow." + +Thus adjured, the Bantam hitched his breech. What on earth the young +gentleman meant he was at a loss to speculate. He could not believe that +the young gentleman wanted to be transported, but if he had been paid to +help that, why, he would. And considering that this day's evidence +rather bound him down to the morrow's, he determined, after much +ploughing and harrowing through obstinate shocks of hair, to be not +altogether positive as to the person. It is possible that he became +thereby more a mansion of truth than he previously had been; for the +night, as he said, was so dark that you could not see your hand before +your face; and though, as he expressed it, you might be mortal sure of +a man, you could not identify him upon oath, and the party he had taken +for Tom Bakewell, and could have sworn to, might have been the young +gentleman present, especially as he was ready to swear it upon oath. + +So ended the Bantam. + +No sooner had he ceased, than Farmer Blaize jumped up from his chair, and +made a fine effort to lift him out of the room from the point of his toe. +He failed, and sank back groaning with the pain of the exertion and +disappointment. + +"They're liars, every one!" he cried. "Liars, perj'rers, bribers, and +c'rrupters!--Stop!" to the Bantam, who was slinking away. "You've done +for yerself already! You swore to it!" + +"A din't!" said the Bantam, doggedly. + +"You swore to't!" the farmer vociferated afresh. + +The Bantam played a tune upon the handle of the door, and still affirmed +that he did not; a double contradiction at which the farmer absolutely +raged in his chair, and was hoarse, as he called out a third time that +the Bantam had sworn to it. + +"Noa!" said the Bantam, ducking his poll. "Noa!" he repeated in a lower +note; and then, while a sombre grin betokening idiotic enjoyment of his +profound casuistical quibble worked at his jaw: + +"Not up'n o-ath!" he added, with a twitch of the shoulder and an angular +jerk of the elbow. + +Farmer Blaize looked vacantly at Richard, as if to ask him what he +thought of England's peasantry after the sample they had there. Richard +would have preferred not to laugh, but his dignity gave way to his sense +of the ludicrous, and he let fly a shout. The farmer was in no laughing +mood. He turned a wide eye back to the door, "Lucky for'm," he +exclaimed, seeing the Bantam had vanished, for his fingers itched to +break that stubborn head. He grew very puffy, and addressed Richard +solemnly: + +"Now, look ye here, Mr. Feverel! You've been a-tampering with my +witness. It's no use denyin'! I say y' 'ave, sir! You, or some of ye. +I don't care about no Feverel! My witness there has been bribed. The +Bantam's been bribed," and he shivered his pipe with an energetic thump +on the table--"bribed! I knows it! I could swear to't!"-- + +"Upon oath?" Richard inquired, with a grave face. + +"Ay, upon oath!" said the farmer, not observing the impertinence. + +"I'd take my Bible oath on't! He's been corrupted, my principal witness! +Oh! it's dam cunnin', but it won't do the trick. I'll transport Tom +Bakewell, sure as a gun. He shall travel, that man shall. Sorry for +you, Mr. Feverel--sorry you haven't seen how to treat me proper--you, or +yours. Money won't do everything--no! it won't. It'll c'rrupt a +witness, but it won't clear a felon. I'd ha' 'soused you, sir! You're a +boy and'll learn better. I asked no more than payment and apology; and +that I'd ha' taken content--always provided my witnesses weren't tampered +with. Now you must stand yer luck, all o' ye." + +Richard stood up and replied, "Very well, Mr. Blaize." + +"And if," continued the farmer, "Tom Bakewell don't drag you into't after +'m, why, you're safe, as I hope ye'll be, sincere!" + +"It was not in consideration of my own safety that I sought this +interview with you," said Richard, head erect. + +"Grant ye that," the farmer responded. "Grant ye that! Yer bold enough, +young gentleman--comes of the blood that should be! If y' had only ha' +spoke trewth!--I believe yer father--believe every word he said. I do +wish I could ha' said as much for Sir Austin's son and heir." + +"What!" cried Richard, with an astonishment hardly to be feigned, "you +have seen my father?" + +But Farmer Blaize had now such a scent for lies that he could detect them +where they did not exist, and mumbled gruffly, + +"Ay, we knows all about that!" + +The boy's perplexity saved him from being irritated. Who could have told +his father? An old fear of his father came upon him, and a touch of an +old inclination to revolt. + +"My father knows of this?" said he, very loudly, and staring, as he +spoke, right through the farmer. "Who has played me false? Who would +betray me to him? It was Austin! No one knew it but Austin. Yes, and +it was Austin who persuaded me to come here and submit to these +indignities. Why couldn't he be open with me? I shall never trust him +again!" + +"And why not you with me, young gentleman?" said the farmer. "I sh'd +trust you if ye had." + +Richard did not see the analogy. He bowed stiffly and bade him good +afternoon. + +Farmer Blaize pulled the bell. "Company the young gentleman out, Lucy," +he waved to the little damsel in the doorway. "Do the honours. And, Mr. +Richard, ye might ha' made a friend o' me, sir, and it's not too late so +to do. I'm not cruel, but I hate lies. I whipped my boy Tom, bigger +than you, for not bein' above board, only yesterday,--ay! made 'un stand +within swing o' this chair, and take's measure. Now, if ye'll come down +to me, and speak trewth before the trial--if it's only five minutes +before't; or if Sir Austin, who's a gentleman, 'll say there's been no +tamperin' with any o' my witnesses, his word for't--well and good! I'll +do my best to help off Tom Bakewell. And I'm glad, young gentleman, +you've got a conscience about a poor man, though he's a villain. Good +afternoon, sir." + +Richard marched hastily out of the room, and through the garden, never so +much as deigning a glance at his wistful little guide, who hung at the +garden gate to watch him up the lane, wondering a world of fancies about +the handsome proud boy. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +To have determined upon an act something akin to heroism in its way, and +to have fulfilled it by lying heartily, and so subverting the whole +structure built by good resolution, seems a sad downfall if we forget +what human nature, in its green weedy spring, is composed of. Young +Richard had quitted his cousin Austin fully resolved to do his penance +and drink the bitter cup; and he had drunk it; drained many cups to the +dregs; and it was to no purpose. Still they floated before him, brimmed, +trebly bitter. Away from Austin's influence, he was almost the same boy +who had slipped the guinea into Tom Bakewell's hand, and the lucifers +into Farmer Blaize's rick. For good seed is long ripening; a good boy is +not made in a minute. Enough that the seed was in him. He chafed on his +road to Raynham at the scene he had just endured, and the figure of +Belthorpe's fat tenant burnt like hot copper on the tablet of his brain, +insufferably condescending, and, what was worse, in the right. Richard, +obscured as his mind's eye was by wounded pride, saw that clearly, and +hated his enemy for it the more. + +Heavy Benson's tongue was knelling dinner as Richard arrived at the +Abbey. He hurried up to his room to dress. Accident, or design, had +laid the book of Sir Austin's aphorisms open on the dressing-table. +Hastily combing his hair, Richard glanced down and read-- + + "The Dog returneth to his vomit: the Liar must eat his Lie." + +Underneath was interjected in pencil: "The Devil's mouthful!" + +Young Richard ran downstairs feeling that his father had struck him in +the face. + +Sir Austin marked the scarlet stain on his son's cheekbones. He sought +the youth's eye, but Richard would not look, and sat conning his plate, +an abject copy of Adrian's succulent air at that employment. How could +he pretend to the relish of an epicure when he was painfully endeavouring +to masticate The Devil's mouthful? + +Heavy Benson sat upon the wretched dinner. Hippias usually the silent +member, as if awakened by the unnatural stillness, became sprightly, like +the goatsucker owl at night and spoke much of his book, his digestion, +and his dreams, and was spared both by Algernon and Adrian. One +inconsequent dream he related, about fancying himself quite young and +rich, and finding himself suddenly in a field cropping razors around him, +when, just as he had, by steps dainty as those of a French dancing- +master, reached the middle, he to his dismay beheld a path clear of the +blood, thirsty steel-crop, which he might have taken at first had he +looked narrowly; and there he was. + +Hippias's brethren regarded him with eyes that plainly said they wished +he had remained there. Sir Austin, however, drew forth his note-book, +and jotted down a reflection. A composer of aphorisms can pluck blossoms +even from a razor-prop. Was not Hippias's dream the very counterpart of +Richard's position? He, had he looked narrowly, might have taken the +clear path: he, too, had been making dainty steps till he was surrounded +by the grinning blades. And from that text Sir Austin preached to his +son when they were alone. Little Clare was still too unwell to be +permitted to attend the dessert, and father and son were soon closeted +together. + +It was a strange meeting. They seemed to have been separated so long. +The father took his son's hand; they sat without a word passing between +them. Silence said most. The boy did not understand his father: his +father frequently thwarted him: at times he thought his father foolish: +but that paternal pressure of his hand was eloquent to him of how warmly +he was beloved. He tried once or twice to steal his hand away, conscious +it was melting him. The spirit of his pride, and old rebellion, +whispered him to be hard, unbending, resolute. Hard he had entered his +father's study: hard he had met his father's eyes. He could not meet +them now. His father sat beside him gently; with a manner that was +almost meekness, so he loved this boy. The poor gentleman's lips moved. +He was praying internally to God for him. + +By degrees an emotion awoke in the boy's bosom. Love is that blessed +wand which wins the waters from the hardness of the heart. Richard +fought against it, for the dignity of old rebellion. The tears would +come; hot and struggling over the dams of pride. Shamefully fast they +began to fall. He could no longer conceal them, or check the sobs. Sir +Austin drew him nearer and nearer, till the beloved head was on his +breast. + +An hour afterwards, Adrian Harley, Austin Wentworth, and Algernon Feverel +were summoned to the baronet's study. + +Adrian came last. There was a style of affable omnipotence about the +wise youth as he slung himself into a chair, and made an arch of the +points of his fingers, through which to gaze on his blundering kinsmen. +Careless as one may be whose sagacity has foreseen, and whose benevolent +efforts have forestalled, the point of danger at the threshold, Adrian +crossed his legs, and only intruded on their introductory remarks so far +as to hum half audibly at intervals + + "Ripton and Richard were two pretty men," + +in parody of the old ballad. Young Richard's red eyes, and the baronet's +ruffled demeanour, told him that an explanation had taken place, and a +reconciliation. That was well. The baronet would now pay cheerfully. +Adrian summed and considered these matters, and barely listened when the +baronet called attention to what he had to say: which was elaborately to +inform all present, what all present very well knew, that a rick had been +fired, that his son was implicated as an accessory to the fact, that the +perpetrator was now imprisoned, and that Richard's family were, as it +seemed to him, bound in honour to do their utmost to effect the man's +release. + +Then the baronet stated that he had himself been down to Belthorpe, his +son likewise: and that he had found every disposition in Blaize to meet +his wishes. + +The lamp which ultimately was sure to be lifted up to illumine the acts +of this secretive race began slowly to dispread its rays; and, as +statement followed statement, they saw that all had known of the +business: that all had been down to Belthorpe: all save the wise youth +Adrian, who, with due deference and a sarcastic shrug, objected to the +proceeding, as putting them in the hands of the man Blaize. His wisdom +shone forth in an oration so persuasive and aphoristic that had it not +been based on a plea against honour, it would have made Sir Austin waver. +But its basis was expediency, and the baronet had a better aphorism of +his own to confute him with. + +"Expediency is man's wisdom, Adrian Harley. Doing right is God's." + +Adrian curbed his desire to ask Sir Austin whether an attempt to +counteract the just working of the law was doing right. The direct +application of an aphorism was unpopular at Raynham. + +"I am to understand then," said he, "that Blaize consents not to press +the prosecution." + +"Of course he won't," Algernon remarked. "Confound him! he'll have his +money, and what does he want besides?" + +"These agricultural gentlemen are delicate customers to deal with. +However, if he really consents"-- + +"I have his promise," said the baronet, fondling his son. + +Young Richard looked up to his father, as if he wished to speak. He said +nothing, and Sir Austin took it as a mute reply to his caresses; and +caressed him the more. Adrian perceived a reserve in the boy's manner, +and as he was not quite satisfied that his chief should suppose him to +have been the only idle, and not the most acute and vigilant member of +the family, he commenced a cross-examination of him by asking who had +last spoken with the tenant of Belthorpe? + +"I think I saw him last," murmured Richard, and relinquished his father's +hand. + +Adrian fastened on his prey. "And left him with a distinct and +satisfactory assurance of his amicable intentions?" + +"No," said Richard. + +"Not?" the Feverels joined in astounded chorus. + +Richard sidled away from his father, and repeated a shamefaced "No." + +"Was he hostile?" inquired Adrian, smoothing his palms, and smiling. + +"Yes," the boy confessed. + +Here was quite another view of their position. Adrian, generally patient +of results, triumphed strongly at having evoked it, and turned upon +Austin Wentworth, reproving him for inducing the boy to go down to +Belthorpe. Austin looked grieved. He feared that Richard had faded in +his good resolve. + +"I thought it his duty to go," he observed. + +"It was!" said the baronet, emphatically. + +"And you see what comes of it, sir," Adrian struck in. "These +agricultural gentlemen, I repeat, are delicate customers to deal with. +For my part I would prefer being in the hands of a policeman. We are +decidedly collared by Blaize. What were his words, Ricky? Give it in +his own Doric." + +"He said he would transport Tom Bakewell." + +Adrian smoothed his palms, and smiled again. Then they could afford to +defy Mr. Blaize, he informed them significantly, and made once more a +mysterious allusion to the Punic elephant, bidding his relatives be at +peace. They were attaching, in his opinion, too much importance to +Richard's complicity. The man was a fool, and a very extraordinary +arsonite, to have an accomplice at all. It was a thing unknown in the +annals of rick-burning. But one would be severer than law itself to say +that a boy of fourteen had instigated to crime a full-grown man. At that +rate the boy was 'father of the man' with a vengeance, and one might hear +next that 'the baby was father of the boy.' They would find common sense +a more benevolent ruler than poetical metaphysics. + +When he had done, Austin, with his customary directness, asked him what +he meant. + +"I confess, Adrian," said the baronet, hearing him expostulate with +Austin's stupidity, "I for one am at a loss. I have heard that this man, +Bakewell, chooses voluntarily not to inculpate my son. Seldom have I +heard anything that so gratified me. It is a view of innate nobleness in +the rustic's character which many a gentleman might take example from. +We are bound to do our utmost for the man." And, saying that he should +pay a second visit to Belthorpe, to inquire into the reasons for the +farmer's sudden exposition of vindictiveness, Sir Austin rose. + +Before he left the room, Algernon asked Richard if the farmer had +vouchsafed any reasons, and the boy then spoke of the tampering with the +witnesses, and the Bantam's "Not upon oath!" which caused Adrian to choke +with laughter. Even the baronet smiled at so cunning a distinction as +that involved in swearing a thing, and not swearing it upon oath. + +"How little," he exclaimed, "does one yeoman know another! To elevate +a distinction into a difference is the natural action of their minds. +I will point that out to Blaize. He shall see that the idea is native +born." + +Richard saw his father go forth. Adrian, too, was ill at ease. + +"This trotting down to Belthorpe spoils all," said he. "The affair would +pass over to-morrow--Blaize has no witnesses. The old rascal is only +standing out for more money." + +"No, he isn't," Richard corrected him. "It's not that. I'm sure he +believes his witnesses have been tampered with, as he calls it." + +"What if they have, boy?" Adrian put it boldly. "The ground is cut from +under his feet." + +"Blaize told me that if my father would give his word there had been +nothing of the sort, he would take it. My father will give his word." + +"Then," said Adrian, "you had better stop him from going down." + +Austin looked at Adrian keenly, and questioned him whether he thought the +farmer was justified in his suspicions. The wise youth was not to be +entrapped. He had only been given to understand that the witnesses were +tolerably unstable, and, like the Bantam, ready to swear lustily, but not +upon the Book. How given to understand, he chose not to explain, but he +reiterated that the chief should not be allowed to go down to Belthorpe. + +Sir Austin was in the lane leading to the farm when he heard steps of +some one running behind him. It was dark, and he shook off the hand that +laid hold of his cloak, roughly, not recognizing his son. + +"It's I, sir," said Richard panting. "Pardon me. You mustn't go in +there." + +"Why not?" said the baronet, putting his arm about him. + +"Not now," continued the boy. "I will tell you all to-night. I must see +the farmer myself. It was my fault, sir. I-I lied to him--the Liar must +eat his Lie. Oh, forgive me for disgracing you, sir. I did it--I hope I +did it to save Tom Bakewell. Let me go in alone, and speak the truth." + +"Go, and I will wait for you here," said his father. + +The wind that bowed the old elms, and shivered the dead leaves in the +air, had a voice and a meaning for the baronet during that half-hour's +lonely pacing up and down under the darkness, awaiting his boy's return. +The solemn gladness of his heart gave nature a tongue. Through the +desolation flying overhead--the wailing of the Mother of Plenty across +the bare-swept land--he caught intelligible signs of the beneficent order +of the universe, from a heart newly confirmed in its grasp of the +principle of human goodness, as manifested in the dear child who had just +left him; confirmed in its belief in the ultimate victory of good within +us, without which nature has neither music nor meaning, and is rock, +stone, tree, and nothing more. + +In the dark, the dead leaves beating on his face, he had a word for his +note-book: "There is for the mind but one grasp of happiness: from that +uppermost pinnacle of wisdom, whence we see that this world is well +designed." + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +Of all the chief actors in the Bakewell Comedy, Master Ripton Thompson +awaited the fearful morning which was to decide Tom's fate, in +dolefullest mood, and suffered the gravest mental terrors. Adrian, on +parting with him, had taken casual occasion to speak of the position of +the criminal in modern Europe, assuring him that International Treaty now +did what Universal Empire had aforetime done, and that among Atlantic +barbarians now, as among the Scythians of old, an offender would find +precarious refuge and an emissary haunting him. + +In the paternal home, under the roofs of Law, and removed from the +influence of his conscienceless young chief, the staggering nature of the +act he had put his hand to, its awful felonious aspect, overwhelmed +Ripton. He saw it now for the first time. "Why, it's next to murder!" +he cried out to his amazed soul, and wandered about the house with a +prickly skin. Thoughts of America, and commencing life afresh as an +innocent gentleman, had crossed his disordered brain. He wrote to his +friend Richard, proposing to collect disposable funds, and embark, in +case of Tom's breaking his word, or of accidental discovery. He dared +not confide the secret to his family, as his leader had sternly enjoined +him to avoid any weakness of that kind; and, being by nature honest and +communicative, the restriction was painful, and melancholy fell upon the +boy. Mama Thompson attributed it to love. + +The daughters of parchment rallied him concerning Miss Clare Forey. +His hourly letters to Raynham, and silence as to everything and everybody +there, his nervousness, and unwonted propensity to sudden inflammation of +the cheeks, were set down for sure signs of the passion. Miss Letitia +Thompson, the pretty and least parchmenty one, destined by her Papa for +the heir of Raynham, and perfectly aware of her brilliant future, up to +which she had, since Ripton's departure, dressed and grimaced, and +studied cadences (the latter with such success, though not yet fifteen, +that she languished to her maid, and melted the small factotum footman)-- +Miss Letty, whose insatiable thirst for intimations about the young heir +Ripton could not satisfy, tormented him daily in revenge, and once, quite +unconsciously, gave the lad a fearful turn; for after dinner, when Mr. +Thompson read the paper by the fire, preparatory to sleeping at his +accustomed post, and Mama Thompson and her submissive female brood sat +tasking the swift intricacies of the needle, and emulating them with the +tongue, Miss Letty stole behind Ripton's chair, and introduced between +him and his book the Latin initial letter, large and illuminated, of the +theme she supposed to be absorbing him, as it did herself. The +unexpected vision of this accusing Captain of the Alphabet, this +resplendent and haunting A. fronting him bodily, threw Ripton straight +back in his chair, while Guilt, with her ancient indecision what colours +to assume on detection, flew from red to white, from white to red, across +his fallen chaps. Letty laughed triumphantly. Amor, the word she had in +mind, certainly has a connection with Arson. + +But the delivery of a letter into Master Ripton's hands, furnished her +with other and likelier appearances to study. For scarce had Ripton +plunged his head into the missive than he gave way to violent transports, +such as the healthy-minded little damsel, for all her languishing +cadences, deemed she really could express were a downright declaration to +be made to her. The boy did not stop at table. Quickly recollecting the +presence of his family, he rushed to his own room. And now the girl's +ingenuity was taxed to gain possession of that letter. She succeeded, of +course, she being a huntress with few scruples and the game unguarded. +With the eyes of amazement she read this foreign matter: + +"Dear Ripton,--If Tom had been committed I would have shot old Blaize. +Do you know my father was behind us that night when Clare saw the ghost +and heard all we said before the fire burst out. It is no use trying to +conceal anything from him. Well as you are in an awful state I will tell +you all about it. After you left Ripton I had a conversation with Austin +and he persuaded me to go down to old Blaize and ask him to help off Tom. +I went for I would have done anything for Tom after what he said to +Austin and I defied the old churl to do his worst. Then he said if my +father paid the money and nobody had tampered with his witnesses he would +not mind if Tom did get off and he had his chief witness in called the +Bantam very like his master I think and the Bantam began winking at me +tremendously as you say, and said he had sworn he saw Tom Bakewell but +not upon oath. He meant not on the Bible. He could swear to it but not +on the Bible. I burst out laughing and you should have seen the rage old +Blaize was in. It was splendid fun. Then we had a consultation at home +Austin Rady my father Uncle Algernon who has come down to us again and +your friend in prosperity and adversity R.D.F. My father said he would +go down to old Blaize and give him the word of a gentleman we had not +tampered with his witnesses and when he was gone we were all talking and +Rady says he must not see the farmer. I am as certain as I live that it +was Rady bribed the Bantam. Well I ran and caught up my father and told +him not to go in to old Blaize but I would and eat my words and tell him +the truth. He waited for me in the lane. Never mind what passed between +me and old Blaize. He made me beg and pray of him not to press it +against Tom and then to complete it he brought in a little girl a niece +of his and says to me, she's your best friend after all and told me to +thank her. A little girl twelve years of age. What business had she to +mix herself up in my matters. Depend upon it Ripton, wherever there is +mischief there are girls I think. She had the insolence to notice my +face, and ask me not to be unhappy. I was polite of course but I would +not look at her. Well the morning came and Tom was had up before Sir +Miles Papworth. It was Sir Miles gout gave us the time or Tom would have +been had up before we could do anything. Adrian did not want me to go +but my father said I should accompany him and held my hand all the time. +I shall be careful about getting into these scrapes again. When you have +done anything honourable you do not mind but getting among policemen and +magistrates makes you ashamed of yourself. Sir Miles was very attentive +to my father and me and dead against Tom. We sat beside him and Tom was +brought in, Sir Miles told my father that if there was one thing that +showed a low villain it was rick-burning. What do you think of that. +I looked him straight in the face and he said to me he was doing me a +service in getting Tom committed and clearing the country of such fellows +and Rady began laughing. I hate Rady. My father said his son was not in +haste to inherit and have estates of his own to watch and Sir Miles +laughed too. I thought we were discovered at first. Then they began the +examination of Tom. The Tinker was the first witness and he proved that +Tom had spoken against old Blaize and said something about burning his +rick. I wished I had stood in the lane to Bursley with him alone. Our +country lawyer we engaged for Tom cross-questioned him and then he said +he was not ready to swear to the exact words that had passed between him +and Tom. I should think not. Then came another who swore he had seen +Tom lurking about the farmer's grounds that night. Then came the Bantam +and I saw him look at Rady. I was tremendously excited and my father +kept pressing my hand. Just fancy my being brought to feel that a word +from that fellow would make me miserable for life and he must perjure +himself to help me. That comes of giving way to passion. My father says +when we do that we are calling in the devil as doctor. Well the Bantam +was told to state what he had seen and the moment he began Rady who was +close by me began to shake and he was laughing I knew though his face was +as grave as Sir Miles. You never heard such a rigmarole but I could not +laugh. He said he thought he was certain he had seen somebody by the +rick and it was Tom Bakewell who was the only man he knew who had a +grudge against Farmer Blaize and if the object had been a little bigger +he would not mind swearing to Tom and would swear to him for he was dead +certain it was Tom only what he saw looked smaller and it was pitch-dark +at the time. He was asked what time it was he saw the person steal away +from the rick and then he began to scratch his head and said supper-time. +Then they asked what time he had supper and he said nine o'clock by the +clock and we proved that at nine o'clock Tom was drinking in the ale- +house with the Tinker at Bursley and Sir Miles swore and said he was +afraid he could not commit Tom and when he heard that Tom looked up at me +and I say he is a noble fellow and no one shall sneer at Tom while I +live. Mind that. Well Sir Miles asked us to dine with him and Tom was +safe and I am to have him and educate him if I like for my servant and I +will. And I will give money to his mother and make her rich and he shall +never repent he knew me. I say Rip. The Bantam must have seen me. It +was when I went to stick in the lucifers. As we were all going home from +Sir Miles's at night he has lots of red-faced daughters but I did not +dance with them though they had music and were full of fun and I did not +care to I was so delighted and almost let it out. When we left and rode +home Rady said to my father the Bantam was not such a fool as he was +thought and my father said one must be in a state of great personal +exaltation to apply that epithet to any man and Rady shut his mouth and I +gave my pony a clap of the heel for joy. I think my father suspects what +Rady did and does not approve of it. And he need not have done it after +all and might have spoilt it. I have been obliged to order him not to +call me Ricky for he stops short at Rick so that everybody knows what he +means. My dear Austin is going to South America. My pony is in capital +condition. My father is the cleverest and best man in the world. Clare +is a little better. I am quite happy. I hope we shall meet soon my dear +Old Rip and we will not get into any more tremendous scrapes will we.--I +remain, + Your sworn friend, + "RICHARD DORIA FEVEREL." + +"P.S. I am to have a nice River Yacht. Good-bye, Rip. Mind you learn +to box. Mind you are not to show this to any of your friends on pain of +my displeasure. + +"N.B. Lady B. was so angry when I told her that I had not come to her +before. She would do anything in the world for me. I like her next best +to my father and Austin. Good-bye old Rip." + +Poor little Letitia, after three perusals of this ingenuous epistle, +where the laws of punctuation were so disregarded, resigned it to one of +the pockets of her brother Ripton's best jacket, deeply smitten with the +careless composer. And so ended the last act of the Bakewell Comedy, in +which the curtain closes with Sir Austin's pointing out to his friends +the beneficial action of the System in it from beginning to end. + + + + +ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: + +A style of affable omnipotence about the wise youth +After five years of marriage, and twelve of friendship +Among boys there are laws of honour and chivalrous codes +An edge to his smile that cuts much like a sneer +Complacent languor of the wise youth +Huntress with few scruples and the game unguarded +It is no use trying to conceal anything from him +It was his ill luck to have strong appetites and a weak stomach +Minutes taken up by the grey puffs from their mouths +No! Gentlemen don't fling stones; leave that to the blackguards +Rogue on the tremble of detection +Rumour for the nonce had a stronger spice of truth than usual +She can make puddens and pies +The born preacher we feel instinctively to be our foe +There is for the mind but one grasp of happiness +Those days of intellectual coxcombry +Troublesome appendages of success +Woman will be the last thing civilized by Man + + + + +End of this Project Gutenberg Etext of Ordeal Richard Feverel, v1 +by George Meredith + + + + + + +THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL + +By GEORGE MEREDITH + +1905 + + + +BOOK 2. + +XII. THE BLOSSOMING SEASON +XIII. THE MAGNETIC AGE +XIV. AN ATTRACTION +XV. FERDINAND AND MIRANDA +XVI. UNMASKING OF MASTER RIPTON THOMPSON +XVII. GOOD WINE AND GOOD BLOOD +XVIII. THE SYSTEM ENCOUNTERS THE WILD OATS SPECIAL PLEA +XIX. A DIVERSION PLAYED ON A PENNY WHISTLE +XX. CELEBRATES THE TIME-HONOURED TREATMENT OF A DRAGON BY THE HERO + + + +CHAPTER XII + +Laying of ghosts is a public duty, and, as the mystery of the apparition +that had frightened little Clare was never solved on the stage of events +at Raynham, where dread walked the Abbey, let us go behind the scenes a +moment. Morally superstitious as the baronet was, the character of his +mind was opposed to anything like spiritual agency in the affairs of men, +and, when the matter was made clear to him, it shook off a weight of +weakness and restored his mental balance; so that from this time he went +about more like the man he had once been, grasping more thoroughly the +great truth, that This World is well designed. Nay, he could laugh on +hearing Adrian, in reminiscence of the ill luck of one of the family +members at its first manifestation, call the uneasy spirit, Algernon's +Leg. + +Mrs. Doria was outraged. She maintained that her child had +seen---- Not to believe in it was almost to rob her of her personal +property. After satisfactorily studying his old state of mind in her, +Sir Austin, moved by pity, took her aside one day and showed her that her +Ghost could write words in the flesh. It was a letter from the unhappy +lady who had given Richard birth,--brief cold lines, simply telling him +his house would be disturbed by her no more. Cold lines, but penned by +what heart-broken abnegation, and underlying them with what anguish of +soul! Like most who dealt with him, Lady Feverel thought her husband a +man fatally stern and implacable, and she acted as silly creatures will +act when they fancy they see a fate against them: she neither petitioned +for her right nor claimed it: she tried to ease her heart's yearning by +stealth, and, now she renounced all. Mrs. Doria, not wanting in the +family tenderness and softness, shuddered at him for accepting the +sacrifice so composedly: but he bade her to think how distracting to this +boy would be the sight of such relations between mother and father. A +few years, and as man he should know, and judge, and love her. "Let this +be her penance, not inflicted by me!" Mrs. Doria bowed to the System for +another, not opining when it would be her turn to bow for herself. + +Further behind the scenes we observe Rizzio and Mary grown older, much +disenchanted: she discrowned, dishevelled,--he with gouty fingers on a +greasy guitar. The Diaper Sandoe of promise lends his pen for small +hires. His fame has sunk; his bodily girth has sensibly increased. What +he can do, and will do, is still his theme; meantime the juice of the +juniper is in requisition, and it seems that those small hires cannot be +performed without it. Returning from her wretched journey to her +wretcheder home, the lady had to listen to a mild reproof from easy-going +Diaper,--a reproof so mild that he couched it in blank verse: for, seldom +writing metrically now, he took to talking it. With a fluent sympathetic +tear, he explained to her that she was damaging her interests by these +proceedings; nor did he shrink from undertaking to elucidate wherefore. +Pluming a smile upon his succulent mouth, he told her that the poverty +she lived in was utterly unbefitting her gentle nurture, and that he had +reason to believe--could assure her--that an annuity was on the point of +being granted her by her husband. And Diaper broke his bud of a smile +into full flower as he delivered this information. She learnt that he +had applied to her husband for money. It is hard to have one's prop of +self-respect cut away just when we are suffering a martyr's agony at the +stake. There was a five minutes' tragic colloquy in the recesses behind +the scenes,--totally tragic to Diaper, who had fondly hoped to bask in +the warm sun of that annuity, and re-emerge from his state of grub. The +lady then wrote the letter Sir Austin held open to his sister. The +atmosphere behind the scenes is not wholesome, so, having laid the Ghost, +we will return and face the curtain. + +That infinitesimal dose of The World which Master Ripton Thompson had +furnished to the System with such instantaneous and surprising effect was +considered by Sir Austin to have worked well, and to be for the time +quite sufficient, so that Ripton did not receive a second invitation to +Raynham, and Richard had no special intimate of his own age to rub his +excessive vitality against, and wanted none. His hands were full enough +with Tom Bakewell. Moreover, his father and he were heart in heart. The +boy's mind was opening, and turned to his father affectionately reverent. +At this period, when the young savage grows into higher influences, the +faculty of worship is foremost in him. At this period Jesuits will stamp +the future of their chargeling flocks; and all who bring up youth by a +System, and watch it, know that it is the malleable moment. Boys +possessing any mental or moral force to give them a tendency, then +predestinate their careers; or, if under supervision, take the impress +that is given them: not often to cast it off, and seldom to cast it off +altogether. + +In Sir Austin's Note-book was written: "Between Simple Boyhood and +Adolescence--The Blossoming Season--on the threshold of Puberty, there is +one Unselfish Hour--say, Spiritual Seed-time." + +He took care that good seed should be planted in Richard, and that the +most fruitful seed for a youth, namely, Example, should be of a kind to +germinate in him the love of every form of nobleness. + +"I am only striving to make my son a Christian," he said, answering them +who persisted in expostulating with the System. And to these +instructions he gave an aim: "First be virtuous," he told his son, "and +then serve your country with heart and soul." The youth was instructed +to cherish an ambition for statesmanship, and he and his father read +history and the speeches of British orators to some purpose; for one day +Sir Austin found him leaning cross-legged, and with his hand to his chin, +against a pedestal supporting the bust of Chatham, contemplating the hero +of our Parliament, his eyes streaming with tears. + +People said the baronet carried the principle of Example so far that he +only retained his boozing dyspeptic brother Hippias at Raynham in order +to exhibit to his son the woeful retribution nature wreaked upon a life +of indulgence; poor Hippias having now become a walking complaint. This +was unjust, but there is no doubt he made use of every illustration to +disgust or encourage his son that his neighbourhood afforded him, and did +not spare his brother, for whom Richard entertained a contempt in +proportion to his admiration of his father, and was for flying into +penitential extremes which Sir Austin had to soften. + +The boy prayed with his father morning and night. + +"How is it, sir," he said one night, "I can't get Tom Bakewell to pray?" + +"Does he refuse?" Sir Austin asked. + +"He seems to be ashamed to," Richard replied. "He wants to know what is +the good? and I don't know what to tell him." + +"I'm afraid it has gone too far with him," said Sir Austin, "and until he +has had some deep sorrows he will not find the divine want of Prayer. +Strive, my son, when you represent the people, to provide for their +education. He feels everything now through a dull impenetrable rind. +Culture is half-way to heaven. Tell him, my son, should he ever be +brought to ask how he may know the efficacy of Prayer, and that his +prayer will be answered, tell him (he quoted The Pilgrim's Scrip): + +"'Who rises from Prayer a better man, his prayer is answered.'" + +"I will, sir," said Richard, and went to sleep happy. + +Happy in his father and in himself, the youth now lived. Conscience was +beginning to inhabit him, and he carried some of the freightage known to +men; though in so crude a form that it overweighed him, now on this side, +now on that. + +The wise youth Adrian observed these further progressionary developments +in his pupil, soberly cynical. He was under Sir Austin's interdict not +to banter him, and eased his acrid humours inspired by the sight of a +felonious young rick-burner turning saint, by grave affectations of +sympathy and extreme accuracy in marking the not widely-distant dates of +his various changes. The Bread-and-water phase lasted a fortnight: the +Vegetarian (an imitation of his cousin Austin), little better than a +month: the religious, somewhat longer: the religious-propagandist (when +he was for converting the heathen of Lobourne and Burnley, and the +domestics of the Abbey, including Tom Bakewell), longer still, and hard +to bear;--he tried to convert Adrian! All the while Tom was being +exercised like a raw recruit. Richard had a drill-sergeant from the +nearest barracks down for him, to give him a proper pride in himself, and +marched him to and fro with immense satisfaction, and nearly broke his +heart trying to get the round-shouldered rustic to take in the rudiments +of letters: for the boy had unbounded hopes for Tom, as a hero in grain. + +Richard's pride also was cast aside. He affected to be, and really +thought he was, humble. Whereupon Adrian, as by accident, imparted to +him the fact that men were animals, and he an animal with the rest of +them. + +"I an animal!" cries Richard in scorn, and for weeks he was as troubled +by this rudiment of self-knowledge as Tom by his letters. Sir Austin had +him instructed in the wonders of anatomy, to restore his self-respect. + +Seed-Time passed thus smoothly, and adolescence came on, and his cousin +Clare felt what it was to be of an opposite sex to him. She too was +growing, but nobody cared how she grew. Outwardly even her mother seemed +absorbed in the sprouting of the green off-shoot of the Feverel tree, and +Clare was his handmaiden, little marked by him. + +Lady Blandish honestly loved the boy. She would tell him: "If I had been +a girl, I would have had you for my husband." And he with the frankness +of his years would reply: "And how do you know I would have had you?" +causing her to laugh and call him a silly boy, for had he not heard her +say she would have had him? Terrible words, he knew not then the meaning +of! + +"You don't read your father's Book," she said. Her own copy was bound in +purple velvet, gilt-edged, as decorative ladies like to have holier +books, and she carried it about with her, and quoted it, and (Adrian +remarked to Mrs. Doria) hunted a noble quarry, and deliberately aimed at +him therewith, which Mrs. Doria chose to believe, and regretted her +brother would not be on his guard. + +"See here," said Lady Blandish, pressing an almondy finger-nail to one of +the Aphorisms, which instanced how age and adversity must clay-enclose us +ere we can effectually resist the magnetism of any human creature in our +path. "Can you understand it, child?" + +Richard informed her that when she read he could. + +"Well, then, my squire," she touched his cheek and ran her fingers +through his hair, "learn as quick as you can not to be all hither and yon +with a hundred different attractions, as I was before I met a wise man to +guide me." + +"Is my father very wise?" Richard asked. + +"I think so," the lady emphasized her individual judgment. + +"Do you--" Richard broke forth, and was stopped by a beating of his +heart. + +"Do I--what?" she calmly queried. + +"I was going to say, do you--I mean, I love him so much." + +Lady Blandish smiled and slightly coloured. + +They frequently approached this theme, and always retreated from it; +always with the same beating of heart to Richard, accompanied by the +sense of a growing mystery, which, however, did not as yet generally +disturb him. + +Life was made very pleasant to him at Raynham, as it was part of Sir +Austin's principle of education that his boy should be thoroughly joyous +and happy; and whenever Adrian sent in a satisfactory report of his +pupil's advancement, which he did pretty liberally, diversions were +planned, just as prizes are given to diligent school-boys, and Richard +was supposed to have all his desires gratified while he attended to his +studies. The System flourished. Tall, strong, bloomingly healthy, he +took the lead of his companions on land and water, and had more than one +bondsman in his service besides Ripton Thompson--the boy without a +Destiny! Perhaps the boy with a Destiny was growing up a trifle too +conscious of it. His generosity to his occasional companions was +princely, but was exercised something too much in the manner of a prince; +and, notwithstanding his contempt for baseness, he would overlook that +more easily than an offence to his pride, which demanded an utter +servility when it had once been rendered susceptible. If Richard had his +followers he had also his feuds. The Papworths were as subservient as +Ripton, but young Ralph Morton, the nephew of Mr. Morton, and a match for +Richard in numerous promising qualities, comprising the noble science of +fisticuffs, this youth spoke his mind too openly, +and moreover would not be snubbed. There was no middle course for +Richard's comrades between high friendship or absolute slavery. He was +deficient in those cosmopolite habits and feelings which enable boys and +men to hold together without caring much for each other; and, like every +insulated mortal, he attributed the deficiency, of which he was quite +aware, to the fact of his possessing a superior nature. Young Ralph was +a lively talker: therefore, argued Richard's vanity, he had no intellect. +He was affable: therefore he was frivolous. The women liked him: +therefore he was a butterfly. In fine, young Ralph was popular, and our +superb prince, denied the privilege of despising, ended by detesting him. + +Early in the days of their contention for leadership, Richard saw the +absurdity of affecting to scorn his rival. Ralph was an Eton boy, and +hence, being robust, a swimmer and a cricketer. A swimmer and a +cricketer is nowhere to be scorned in youth's republic. Finding that +manoeuvre would not do, Richard was prompted once or twice to entrench +himself behind his greater wealth and his position; but he soon abandoned +that also, partly because his chilliness to ridicule told him he was +exposing himself, and chiefly that his heart was too chivalrous. And so +he was dragged into the lists by Ralph, and experienced the luck of +champions. For cricket, and for diving, Ralph bore away the belt: +Richard's middle-stump tottered before his ball, and he could seldom pick +up more than three eggs underwater to Ralph's half-dozen. He was beaten, +too, in jumping and running. Why will silly mortals strive to the +painful pinnacles of championship? Or why, once having reached them, not +have the magnanimity and circumspection to retire into private life +immediately? Stung by his defeats, Richard sent one of his dependent +Papworths to Poer Hall, with a challenge to Ralph Barthrop Morton; +matching himself to swim across the Thames and back, once, trice, or +thrice, within a less time than he, Ralph Barthrop Morton, would require +for the undertaking. It was accepted, and a reply returned, equally +formal in the trumpeting of Christian names, wherein Ralph Barthrop +Morton acknowledged the challenge of Richard Doria Feverel, and was his +man. The match came off on a midsummer morning, under the direction of +Captain Algernon. Sir Austin was a spectator from the cover of a +plantation by the river-side, unknown to his son, and, to the scandal of +her sex, Lady Blandish accompanied the baronet. He had invited her +attendance, and she, obeying her frank nature, and knowing what The +Pilgrim's Scrip said about prudes, at once agreed to view the match, +pleasing him mightily. For was not here a woman worthy the Golden Ages +of the world? one who could look upon man as a creature divinely made, +and look with a mind neither tempted, nor taunted, by the Serpent! Such +a woman was rare. Sir Austin did not discompose her by uttering his +praises. She was conscious of his approval only in an increased +gentleness of manner, and something in his voice and communications, as +if he were speaking to a familiar, a very high compliment from him. +While the lads were standing ready for the signal to plunge from the +steep decline of greensward into the shining waters, Sir Austin called +upon her to admire their beauty, and she did, and even advanced her head +above his shoulder delicately. In so doing, and just as the start was +given, a bonnet became visible to Richard. Young Ralph was heels in air +before he moved, and then he dropped like lead. He was beaten by several +lengths. + +The result of the match was unaccountable to all present, and Richard's +friends unanimously pressed him to plead a false start. But though the +youth, with full confidence in his better style and equal strength, had +backed himself heavily against his rival, and had lost his little river- +yacht to Ralph, he would do nothing of the sort. It was the Bonnet had +beaten him, not Ralph. The Bonnet, typical of the mystery that caused +his heart those violent palpitations, was his dear, detestable enemy. + +And now, as he progressed from mood to mood, his ambition turned towards +a field where Ralph could not rival him, and where the Bonnet was +etherealized, and reigned glorious mistress. A cheek to the pride of a +boy will frequently divert him to the path where lie his subtlest powers. +Richard gave up his companions, servile or antagonistic: he relinquished +the material world to young Ralph, and retired into himself, where he was +growing to be lord of kingdoms where Beauty was his handmaid, and History +his minister and Time his ancient harper, and sweet Romance his bride; +where he walked in a realm vaster and more gorgeous than the great +Orient, peopled with the heroes that have been. For there is no princely +wealth, and no loftiest heritage, to equal this early one that is made +bountifully common to so many, when the ripening blood has put a spark to +the imagination, and the earth is seen through rosy mists of a thousand +fresh-awakened nameless and aimless desires; panting for bliss and taking +it as it comes; making of any sight or sound, perforce of the enchantment +they carry with them, a key to infinite, because innocent, pleasure. The +passions then are gambolling cubs; not the ravaging gluttons they grow +to. They have their teeth and their talons, but they neither tear nor +bite. They are in counsel and fellowship with the quickened heart and +brain. The whole sweet system moves to music. + +Something akin to the indications of a change in the spirit of his son, +which were now seen, Sir Austin had marked down to be expected, as due to +his plan. The blushes of the youth, his long vigils, his clinging to +solitude, his abstraction, and downcast but not melancholy air, were +matters for rejoicing to the prescient gentleman. "For it comes," said +he to Dr. Clifford of Lobourne, after consulting him medically on the +youth's behalf and being assured of his soundness, "it comes of a +thoroughly sane condition. The blood is healthy, the mind virtuous: +neither instigates the other to evil, and both are perfecting toward the +flower of manhood. If he reach that pure--in the untainted fulness and +perfection of his natural powers--I am indeed a happy father! But one +thing he will owe to me: that at one period of his life he knew paradise, +and could read God's handwriting on the earth! Now those abominations +whom you call precocious boys--your little pet monsters, doctor!--and who +can wonder that the world is what it is? when it is full of them--as they +will have no divine time to look back upon in their own lives, how can +they believe in innocence and goodness, or be other than sons of +selfishness and the Devil? But my boy," and the baronet dropped his +voice to a key that was touching to hear, "my boy, if he fall, will fall +from an actual region of purity. He dare not be a sceptic as to that. +Whatever his darkness, he will have the guiding light of a memory behind +him. So much is secure." + +To talk nonsense, or poetry, or the dash between the two, in a tone of +profound sincerity, and to enunciate solemn discordances with received +opinion so seriously as to convey the impression of a spiritual insight, +is the peculiar gift by which monomaniacs, having first persuaded +themselves, contrive to influence their neighbours, and through them to +make conquest of a good half of the world, for good or for ill. Sir +Austin had this gift. He spoke as if he saw the truth, and, persisting +in it so long, he was accredited by those who did not understand him, and +silenced them that did. + +"We shall see," was all the argument left to Dr. Clifford, and other +unbelievers. + +So far certainly the experiment had succeeded. A comelier, bracer, +better boy was nowhere to be met. His promise was undeniable. The +vessel, too, though it lay now in harbour and had not yet been proved by +the buffets of the elements on the great ocean, had made a good trial +trip, and got well through stormy weather, as the records of the Bakewell +Comedy witnessed to at Raynham. No augury could be hopefuller. The +Fates must indeed be hard, the Ordeal severe, the Destiny dark, that +could destroy so bright a Spring! But, bright as it was, the baronet +relaxed nothing of his vigilant supervision. He said to his intimates: +"Every act, every fostered inclination, almost every thought, in this +Blossoming Season, bears its seed for the Future. The living Tree now +requires incessant watchfulness." And, acting up to his light, Sir Austin +did watch. The youth submitted to an examination every night before he +sought his bed; professedly to give an account of his studies, but really +to recapitulate his moral experiences of the day. He could do so, for he +was pure. Any wildness in him that his father noted, any remoteness or +richness of fancy in his expressions, was set down as incidental to the +Blossoming Season. There is nothing like a theory for binding the wise. +Sir Austin, despite his rigid watch and ward, knew less of his son than +the servant of his household. And he was deaf, as well as blind. Adrian +thought it his duty to tell him that the youth was consuming paper. Lady +Blandish likewise hinted at his mooning propensities. Sir Austin from +his lofty watch-tower of the System had foreseen it, he said. But when +he came to hear that the youth was writing poetry, his wounded heart had +its reasons for being much disturbed. + +"Surely," said Lady Blandish, "you knew he scribbled?" + +"A very different thing from writing poetry," said the baronet. "No +Feverel has ever written poetry." + +"I don't think it's a sign of degeneracy," the lady remarked. "He rhymes +very prettily to me." + +A London phrenologist, and a friendly Oxford Professor of poetry, quieted +Sir Austin's fears. + +The phrenologist said he was totally deficient in the imitative faculty; +and the Professor, that he was equally so in the rhythmic, and instanced +several consoling false quantities in the few effusions submitted to him. +Added to this, Sir Austin told Lady Blandish that Richard had, at his +best, done what no poet had ever been known to be capable of doing: he +had, with his own hands, and in cold blood, committed his virgin +manuscript to the flames: which made Lady Blandish sigh forth, "Poor +boy!" + +Killing one's darling child is a painful imposition. For a youth in his +Blossoming Season, who fancies himself a poet, to be requested to destroy +his first-born, without a reason (though to pretend a reason cogent +enough to justify the request were a mockery), is a piece of abhorrent +despotism, and Richard's blossoms withered under it. A strange man had +been introduced to him, who traversed and bisected his skull with +sagacious stiff fingers, and crushed his soul while, in an infallible +voice, declaring him the animal he was making him feel such an animal! +Not only his blossoms withered, his being seemed to draw in its shoots +and twigs. And when, coupled thereunto (the strange man having departed, +his work done), his father, in his tenderest manner, stated that it would +give him pleasure to see those same precocious, utterly valueless, +scribblings among the cinders, the last remaining mental blossoms +spontaneously fell away. Richard's spirit stood bare. He protested not. +Enough that it could be wished! He would not delay a minute in doing it. +Desiring his father to follow him, he went to a drawer in his room, and +from a clean-linen recess, never suspected by Sir Austin, the secretive +youth drew out bundle after bundle: each neatly tied, named, and +numbered: and pitched them into flames. And so Farewell my young +Ambition! and with it farewell all true confidence between Father and +Son. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +It was now, as Sir Austin had written it down, The Magnetic Age: the Age +of violent attractions, when to hear mention of love is dangerous, and to +see it, a communication of the disease. People at Raynham were put on +their guard by the baronet, and his reputation for wisdom was severely +criticized in consequence of the injunctions he thought fit to issue +through butler and housekeeper down to the lower household, for the +preservation of his son from any visible symptom of the passion. A +footman and two housemaids are believed to have been dismissed on the +report of heavy Benson that they were in or inclining to the state; upon +which an undercook and a dairymaid voluntarily threw up their places, +averring that "they did not want no young men, but to have their sex +spied after by an old wretch like that," indicating the ponderous butler, +"was a little too much for a Christian woman," and then they were +ungenerous enough to glance at Benson's well-known marital calamity, +hinting that some men met their deserts. So intolerable did heavy +Benson's espionage become, that Raynham would have grown depopulated of +its womankind had not Adrian interfered, who pointed out to the baronet +what a fearful arm his butler was wielding. Sir Austin acknowledged it +despondently. "It only shows," said he, with a fine spirit of justice, +"how all but impossible it is to legislate where there are women!" + +"I do not object," he added; "I hope I am too just to object to the +exercise of their natural inclinations. All I ask from them is +discreetness." + +"Ay," said Adrian, whose discreetness was a marvel. + +"No gadding about in couples," continued the baronet, "no kissing in +public. Such occurrences no boy should witness. Whenever people of both +sexes are thrown together, they will be silly; and where they are high- +fed, uneducated, and barely occupied, it must be looked for as a matter +of course. Let it be known that I only require discreetness." + +Discreetness, therefore, was instructed to reign at the Abbey. Under +Adrian's able tuition the fairest of its domestics acquired that virtue. + +Discreetness, too, was enjoined to the upper household. Sir Austin, who +had not previously appeared to notice the case of Lobourne's hopeless +curate, now desired Mrs. Doria to interdict, or at least discourage, his +visits, for the appearance of the man was that of an embodied sigh and +groan. + +"Really, Austin!" said Mrs. Doria, astonished to find her brother more +awake than she had supposed, "I have never allowed him to hope." + +"Let him see it, then," replied the baronet; "let him see it." + +"The man amuses me," said Mrs. Doria. "You know, we have few amusements +here, we inferior creatures. I confess I should like a barrel-organ +better; that reminds one of town and the opera; and besides, it plays +more than one tune. However, since you think my society bad for him, let +him stop away." + +With the self-devotion of a woman she grew patient and sweet the moment +her daughter Clare was spoken of, and the business of her life in view. +Mrs. Doria's maternal heart had betrothed the two cousins, Richard and +Clare; had already beheld them espoused and fruitful. For this she +yielded the pleasures of town; for this she immured herself at Raynham; +for this she bore with a thousand follies, exactions, inconveniences, +things abhorrent to her, and heaven knows what forms of torture and self- +denial, which are smilingly endured by that greatest of voluntary +martyrs--a mother with a daughter to marry. Mrs. Doria, an amiable +widow, had surely married but for her daughter Clare. The lady's hair no +woman could possess without feeling it her pride. It was the daily theme +of her lady's-maid,--a natural aureole to her head. She was gay, witty, +still physically youthful enough to claim a destiny; and she sacrificed +it to accomplish her daughter's! sacrificed, as with heroic scissors, +hair, wit, gaiety--let us not attempt to enumerate how much! more than +may be said. And she was only one of thousands; thousands who have no +portion of the hero's reward; for he may reckon on applause, and +condolence, and sympathy, and honour; they, poor slaves! must look for +nothing but the opposition of their own sex and the sneers of ours. O, +Sir Austin! had you not been so blinded, what an Aphorism might have +sprung from this point of observation! Mrs. Doria was coolly told, +between sister and brother, that during the Magnetic Age her daughter's +presence at Raynham was undesirable. Instead of nursing offence, her +sole thought was the mountain of prejudice she had to contend against. +She bowed, and said, Clare wanted sea-air--she had never quite recovered +the shock of that dreadful night. How long, Mrs. Doria wished to know, +might the Peculiar Period be expected to last? + +"That," said Sir Austin, "depends. A year, perhaps. He is entering on +it. I shall be most grieved to lose you, Helen. Clare is now--how old?" + +"Seventeen." + +"She is marriageable." + +"Marriageable, Austin! at seventeen! don't name such a thing. My child +shall not be robbed of her youth." + +"Our women marry early, Helen." + +"My child shall not!" + +The baronet reflected a moment. He did not wish to lose his sister. + +"As you are of that opinion, Helen," said he, "perhaps we may still make +arrangements to retain you with us. Would you think it advisable to send +Clare--she should know discipline--to some establishment for a few +months?" + +"To an asylum, Austin?" cried Mrs. Doria, controlling her indignation as +well as she could. + +"To some select superior seminary, Helen. There are such to be found." + +"Austin!" Mrs. Doria exclaimed, and had to fight with a moisture in her +eyes. "Unjust! absurd!" she murmured. The baronet thought it a natural +proposition that Clare should be a bride or a schoolgirl. + +"I cannot leave my child." Mrs. Doria trembled. "Where she goes, I go. +I am aware that she is only one of our sex, and therefore of no value to +the world, but she is my child. I will see, poor dear, that you have no +cause to complain of her." + +"I thought," Sir Austin remarked, "that you acquiesced in my views with +regard to my son." + +"Yes--generally," said Mrs. Doria, and felt culpable that she had not +before, and could not then, tell her brother that he had set up an Idol +in his house--an Idol of flesh! more retributive and abominable than wood +or brass or gold. But she had bowed to the Idol too long--she had too +entirely bound herself to gain her project by subserviency. She had, and +she dimly perceived it, committed a greater fault in tactics, in teaching +her daughter to bow to the Idol also. Love of that kind Richard took for +tribute. He was indifferent to Clare's soft eyes. The parting kiss he +gave her was ready and cold as his father could desire. Sir Austin now +grew eloquent to him in laudation of manly pursuits: but Richard thought +his eloquence barren, his attempts at companionship awkward, and all +manly pursuits and aims, life itself, vain and worthless. To what end? +sighed the blossomless youth, and cried aloud, as soon as he was relieved +of his father's society, what was the good of anything? Whatever he did- +-whichever path he selected, led back to Raynham. And whatever he did, +however wretched and wayward he showed himself, only confirmed Sir Austin +more and more in the truth of his previsions. Tom Bakewell, now the +youth's groom, had to give the baronet a report of his young master's +proceedings, in common with Adrian, and while there was no harm to tell, +Tom spoke out. "He do ride like fire every day to Pig's Snout," naming +the highest hill in the neighbourhood, "and stand there and stare, never +movin', like a mad 'un. And then hoam agin all slack as if he'd been +beaten in a race by somebody." + +"There is no woman in that!" mused the baronet. "He would have ridden +back as hard as he went," reflected this profound scientific humanist, +"had there been a woman in it. He would shun vast expanses, and seek +shade, concealment, solitude. The desire for distances betokens +emptiness and undirected hunger: when the heart is possessed by an image +we fly to wood and forest, like the guilty." + +Adrian's report accused his pupil of an extraordinary access of cynicism. + +"Exactly," said the baronet. "As I foresaw. At this period an insatiate +appetite is accompanied by a fastidious palate. Nothing but the +quintessences of existence, and those in exhaustless supplies, will +satisfy this craving, which is not to be satisfied! Hence his +bitterness. Life can furnish no food fitting for him. The strength and +purity of his energies have reached to an almost divine height, and roam +through the Inane. Poetry, love, and such-like, are the drugs earth has +to offer to high natures, as she offers to low ones debauchery. 'Tis a +sign, this sourness, that he is subject to none of the empiricisms that +are afloat. Now to keep him clear of them!" + +The Titans had an easier task in storming Olympus. As yet, however, it +could not be said that Sir Austin's System had failed. On the contrary, +it had reared a youth, handsome, intelligent, well-bred, and, observed +the ladies, with acute emphasis, innocent. Where, they asked, was such +another young man to be found? + +"Oh!" said Lady Blandish to Sir Austin, "if men could give their hands to +women unsoiled--how different would many a marriage be! She will be a +happy girl who calls Richard husband." + +"Happy, indeed!" was the baronet's caustic ejaculation. "But where shall +I meet one equal to him, and his match?" + +"I was innocent when I was a girl," said the lady. + +Sir Austin bowed a reserved opinion. + +"Do you think no girls innocent?" + +Sir Austin gallantly thought them all so. + +"No, that you know they are not," said the lady, stamping. "But they are +more innocent than boys, I am sure." + +"Because of their education, madam. You see now what a youth can be. +Perhaps, when my System is published, or rather--to speak more humbly-- +when it is practised, the balance may be restored, and we shall have +virtuous young men." + +"It's too late for poor me to hope for a husband from one of them," said +the lady, pouting and laughing. + +"It is never too late for beauty to waken love," returned the baronet, +and they trifled a little. They were approaching Daphne's Bower, which +they entered, and sat there to taste the coolness of a descending +midsummer day. + +The baronet seemed in a humour for dignified fooling; the lady for +serious converse. + +"I shall believe again in Arthur's knights," she said. "When I was a +girl I dreamed of one." + +"And he was in quest of the San Greal?" + +"If you like." + +"And showed his good taste by turning aside for the more tangible San +Blandish?" + +"Of course you consider it would have been so," sighed the lady, +ruffling. + +"I can only judge by our generation," said Sir Austin, with a bend of +homage. + +The lady gathered her mouth. "Either we are very mighty or you are very +weak." + +"Both, madam." + +"But whatever we are, and if we are bad, bad! we love virtue, and truth, +and lofty souls, in men: and, when we meet those qualities in them, we +are constant, and would die for them--die for them. Ah! you know men but +not women." + +"The knights possessing such distinctions must be young, I presume?" said +Sir Austin. + +"Old, or young!" + +"But if old, they are scarce capable of enterprise?" + +"They are loved for themselves, not for their deeds." + +"Ah!" + +"Yes--ah!" said the lady. "Intellect may subdue women--make slaves of +them; and they worship beauty perhaps as much as you do. But they only +love for ever and are mated when they meet a noble nature." + +Sir Austin looked at her wistfully. + +"And did you encounter the knight of your dream?" + +"Not then." She lowered her eyelids. It was prettily done. + +"And how did you bear the disappointment?" + +"My dream was in the nursery. The day my frock was lengthened to a gown +I stood at the altar. I am not the only girl that has been made a woman +in a day, and given to an ogre instead of a true knight." + +"Good God!" exclaimed Sir Austin, "women have much to bear." + +Here the couple changed characters. The lady became gay as the baronet +grew earnest. + +"You know it is our lot," she said. "And we are allowed many amusements. +If we fulfil our duty in producing children, that, like our virtue, is +its own reward. Then, as a widow, I have wonderful privileges." + +"To preserve which, you remain a widow?" + +"Certainly," she responded. "I have no trouble now in patching and +piecing that rag the world calls--a character. I can sit at your feet +every day unquestioned. To be sure, others do the same, but they are +female eccentrics, and have cast off the rag altogether." + +Sir Austin drew nearer to her. "You would have made an admirable mother, +madam." + +This from Sir Austin was very like positive wooing. + +"It is," he continued, "ten thousand pities that you are not one." + +"Do you think so?" She spoke with humility. + +"I would," he went on, "that heaven had given you a daughter." + +"Would you have thought her worthy of Richard?" + +"Our blood, madam, should have been one!" + +The lady tapped her toe with her parasol. "But I am a mother," she said. +"Richard is my son. Yes! Richard is my boy," she reiterated. + +Sir Austin most graciously appended, "Call him ours, madam," and held his +head as if to catch the word from her lips, which, however, she chose to +refuse, or defer. They made the coloured West a common point for their +eyes, and then Sir Austin said: + +"As you will not say 'ours,' let me. And, as you have therefore an equal +claim on the boy, I will confide to you a project I have lately +conceived." + +The announcement of a project hardly savoured of a coming proposal, but +for Sir Austin to confide one to a woman was almost tantamount to a +declaration. So Lady Blandish thought, and so said her soft, deep-eyed +smile, as she perused the ground while listening to the project. It +concerned Richard's nuptials. He was now nearly eighteen. He was to +marry when he was five-and-twenty. Meantime a young lady, some years his +junior, was to be sought for in the homes of England, who would be every +way fitted by education, instincts, and blood--on each of which +qualifications Sir Austin unreservedly enlarged--to espouse so perfect a +youth and accept the honourable duty of assisting in the perpetuation of +the Feverels. The baronet went on to say that he proposed to set forth +immediately, and devote a couple of months, to the first essay in his +Coelebite search. + +"I fear," said Lady Blandish, when the project had been fully unfolded, +"you have laid down for yourself a difficult task. You must not be too +exacting." + +"I know it." The baronet's shake of the head was piteous. + +"Even in England she will be rare. But I confine myself to no class. If +I ask for blood it is for untainted, not what you call high blood. I +believe many of the middle classes are frequently more careful--more +pure-blooded--than our aristocracy. Show me among them a God-fearing +family who educate their children--I should prefer a girl without +brothers and sisters--as a Christian damsel should be educated--say, on +the model of my son, and she may be penniless, I will pledge her to +Richard Feverel." + +Lady Blandish bit her lip. "And what do you do with Richard while you +are absent on this expedition?" + +"Oh!" said the baronet, "he accompanies his father." + +"Then give it up. His future bride is now pinafored and bread-and- +buttery. She romps, she cries, she dreams of play and pudding. How can +he care for her? He thinks more at his age of old women like me. He +will be certain to kick against her, and destroy your plan, believe me, +Sir Austin." + +"Ay? ay? do you think that?" said the baronet. + +Lady Blandish gave him a multitude of reasons. + +"Ay! true," he muttered. "Adrian said the same. He must not see her. +How could I think of it! The child is naked woman. He would despise +her. Naturally!" + +"Naturally!" echoed the lady. + +"Then, madam," and the baronet rose, "there is one thing for me to +determine upon. I must, for the first time in his life, leave him." + +"Will you, indeed?" said the lady. + +"It is my duty, having thus brought him up, to see that he is properly +mated,--not wrecked upon the quicksands of marriage, as a youth so +delicately trained might be; more easily than another! Betrothed, he +will be safe from a thousand snares. I may, I think, leave him for a +term. My precautions have saved him from the temptations of his season." + +"And under whose charge will you leave him?" Lady Blandish inquired. + +She had emerged from the temple, and stood beside Sir Austin on the upper +steps, under a clear summer twilight. + +"Madam!" he took her hand, and his voice was gallant and tender, "under +whose but yours?" + +As the baronet said this, he bent above her hand, and raised it to his +lips. + +Lady Blandish felt that she had been wooed and asked in wedlock. She did +not withdraw her hand. The baronet's salute was flatteringly reverent. +He deliberated over it, as one going through a grave ceremony. And he, +the scorner of women, had chosen her for his homage! Lady Blandish +forgot that she had taken some trouble to arrive at it. She received the +exquisite compliment in all its unique honey-sweet: for in love we must +deserve nothing or the fine bloom of fruition is gone. + +The lady's hand was still in durance, and the baronet had not recovered +from his profound inclination, when a noise from the neighbouring +beechwood startled the two actors in this courtly pantomime. They turned +their heads, and beheld the hope of Raynham on horseback surveying the +scene. The next moment he had galloped away. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +All night Richard tossed on his bed with his heart in a rapid canter, and +his brain bestriding it, traversing the rich untasted world, and the +great Realm of Mystery, from which he was now restrained no longer. +Months he had wandered about the gates of the Bonnet, wondering, sighing, +knocking at them, and getting neither admittance nor answer. He had the +key now. His own father had given it to him. His heart was a lightning +steed, and bore him on and on over limitless regions bathed in superhuman +beauty and strangeness, where cavaliers and ladies leaned whispering upon +close green swards, and knights and ladies cast a splendour upon savage +forests, and tilts and tourneys were held in golden courts lit to a +glorious day by ladies' eyes, one pair of which, dimly visioned, +constantly distinguishable, followed him through the boskage and dwelt +upon him in the press, beaming while he bent above a hand glittering +white and fragrant as the frosted blossom of a May night. + +Awhile the heart would pause and flutter to a shock: he was in the act of +consummating all earthly bliss by pressing his lips to the small white +hand. Only to do that, and die! cried the Magnetic Youth: to fling the +Jewel of Life into that one cup and drink it off! He was intoxicated by +anticipation. For that he was born. There was, then, some end in +existence, something to live for! to kiss a woman's hand, and die! He +would leap from the couch, and rush to pen and paper to relieve his +swarming sensations. Scarce was he seated when the pen was dashed aside, +the paper sent flying with the exclamation, "Have I not sworn I would +never write again?" Sir Austin had shut that safety-valve. The nonsense +that was in the youth might have poured harmlessly out, and its urgency +for ebullition was so great that he was repeatedly oblivious of his oath, +and found himself seated under the lamp in the act of composition before +pride could speak a word. Possibly the pride even of Richard Feverel had +been swamped if the act of composition were easy at such a time, and a +single idea could stand clearly foremost; but myriads were demanding the +first place; chaotic hosts, like ranks of stormy billows, pressed +impetuously for expression, and despair of reducing them to form, quite +as much as pride, to which it pleased him to refer his incapacity, threw +down the powerless pen, and sent him panting to his outstretched length +and another headlong career through the rosy-girdled land. + +Toward morning the madness of the fever abated somewhat, and he went +forth into the air. A lamp was still burning in his father's room, and +Richard thought, as he looked up, that he saw the ever-vigilant head on +the watch. Instantly the lamp was extinguished, the window stood cold +against the hues of dawn. + +Strong pulling is an excellent medical remedy for certain classes of +fever. Richard took to it instinctively. The clear fresh water, +burnished with sunrise, sparkled against his arrowy prow; the soft deep +shadows curled smiling away from his gliding keel. Overhead solitary +morning unfolded itself, from blossom to bud, from bud to flower; still, +delicious changes of light and colour, to whose influences he was +heedless as he shot under willows and aspens, and across sheets of river- +reaches, pure mirrors to the upper glory, himself the sole tenant of the +stream. Somewhere at the founts of the world lay the land he was rowing +toward; something of its shadowed lights might be discerned here and +there. It was not a dream, now he knew. There was a secret abroad. The +woods were full of it; the waters rolled with it, and the winds. Oh, why +could not one in these days do some high knightly deed which should draw +down ladies' eyes from their heaven, as in the days of Arthur! To such a +meaning breathed the unconscious sighs of the youth, when he had pulled +through his first feverish energy. + +He was off Bursley, and had lapsed a little into that musing quietude +which follows strenuous exercise, when be heard a hail and his own name +called. It was no lady, no fairy, but young Ralph Morton, an irruption +of miserable masculine prose. Heartily wishing him abed with the rest of +mankind, Richard rowed in and jumped ashore. Ralph immediately seized +his arm, saying that he desired earnestly to have a talk with him, and +dragged the Magnetic Youth from his water-dreams, up and down the wet +mown grass. That he had to say seemed to be difficult of utterance, and +Richard, though he barely listened, soon had enough of his old rival's +gladness at seeing him, and exhibited signs of impatience; whereat Ralph, +as one who branches into matter somewhat foreign to his mind, but of +great human interest and importance, put the question to him: + +"I say, what woman's name do you like best?" + +"I don't know any," quoth Richard, indifferently. "Why are you out so +early?" + +In answer to this, Ralph suggested that the name of Mary might be +considered a pretty name. + +Richard agreed that it might be; the housekeeper at Raynham, half the +women cooks, and all the housemaids enjoyed that name; the name of Mary +was equivalent for women at home. + +"Yes, I know," said Ralph. "We have lots of Marys. It's so common. Oh! +I don't like Mary best. What do you think?" + +Richard thought it just like another. + +"Do you know," Ralph continued, throwing off the mask and plunging into +the subject, "I'd do anything on earth for some names--one or two. It's +not Mary, nor Lucy. Clarinda's pretty, but it's like a novel. Claribel, +I like. Names beginning with 'Cl' I prefer. The 'Cl's' are always +gentle and lovely girls you would die for! Don't you think so?" + +Richard had never been acquainted with any of them to inspire that +emotion. Indeed these urgent appeals to his fancy in feminine names at +five o'clock in the morning slightly surprised him, though he was but +half awake to the outer world. By degrees he perceived that Ralph was +changed. Instead of the lusty boisterous boy, his rival in manly +sciences, who spoke straightforwardly and acted up to his speech, here +was an abashed and blush-persecuted youth, who sued piteously for a +friendly ear wherein to pour the one idea possessing him. Gradually, +too, Richard apprehended that Ralph likewise was on the frontiers of the +Realm of Mystery, perhaps further toward it than he himself was; and +then, as by a sympathetic stroke, was revealed to him the wonderful +beauty and depth of meaning in feminine names. The theme appeared novel +and delicious, fitted to the season and the hour. But the hardship was, +that Richard could choose none from the number; all were the same to him; +he loved them all. + +"Don't you really prefer the 'Cl's'?" said Ralph, persuasively. + +"Not better than the names ending in 'a' and 'y,' Richard replied, +wishing he could, for Ralph was evidently ahead of him. + +"Come under these trees," said Ralph. And under the trees Ralph +unbosomed. His name was down for the army: Eton was quitted for ever. +In a few months he would have to join his regiment, and before he left he +must say goodbye to his friends.... Would Richard tell him Mrs. Forey's +address? he had heard she was somewhere by the sea. Richard did not +remember the address, but said he would willingly take charge of any +letter and forward it. + +Ralph dived his hand into his pocket. "Here it is. But don't let +anybody see it." + +"My aunt's name is not Clare," said Richard, perusing what was composed +of the exterior formula. "You've addressed it to Clare herself." + +That was plain to see. + +"Emmeline Clementina Matilda Laura, Countess Blandish," Richard continued +in a low tone, transferring the names, and playing on the musical strings +they were to him. Then he said: "Names of ladies! How they sweeten +their names!" + +He fixed his eyes on Ralph. If he discovered anything further he said +nothing, but bade the good fellow good-bye, jumped into his boat, and +pulled down the tide. The moment Ralph was hidden by an abutment of the +banks, Richard perused the address. For the first time it struck him +that his cousin Clare was a very charming creature: he remembered the +look of her eyes, and especially the last reproachful glance she gave him +at parting. What business had Ralph to write to her? Did she not belong +to Richard Feverel? He read the words again and again: Clare Doria +Forey. Why, Clare was the name he liked best--nay, he loved it. Doria, +too--she shared his own name with him. Away went his heart, not at a +canter now, at a gallop, as one who sights the quarry. He felt too weak +to pull. Clare Doria Forey--oh, perfect melody! Sliding with the tide, +he heard it fluting in the bosom of the hills. + +When nature has made us ripe for love, it seldom occurs that the Fates +are behindhand in furnishing a temple for the flame. + +Above green-flashing plunges of a weir, and shaken by the thunder below, +lilies, golden and white, were swaying at anchor among the reeds. +Meadow-sweet hung from the banks thick with weed and trailing bramble, +and there also hung a daughter of earth. Her face was shaded by a broad +straw hat with a flexible brim that left her lips and chin in the sun, +and, sometimes nodding, sent forth a light of promising eyes. Across her +shoulders, and behind, flowed large loose curls, brown in shadow, almost +golden where the ray touched them. She was simply dressed, befitting +decency and the season. On a closer inspection you might see that her +lips were stained. This blooming young person was regaling on +dewberries. They grew between the bank and the water. Apparently she +found the fruit abundant, for her hand was making pretty progress to her +mouth. Fastidious youth, which revolts at woman plumping her exquisite +proportions on bread-and-butter, and would (we must suppose) joyfully +have her scraggy to have her poetical, can hardly object to dewberries. +Indeed the act of eating them is dainty and induces musing. The dewberry +is a sister to the lotus, and an innocent sister. You eat: mouth, eye, +and hand are occupied, and the undrugged mind free to roam. And so it +was with the damsel who knelt there. The little skylark went up above +her, all song, to the smooth southern cloud lying along the blue: from a +dewy copse dark over her nodding hat the blackbird fluted, calling to her +with thrice mellow note: the kingfisher flashed emerald out of green +osiers: a bow-winged heron travelled aloft, seeking solitude a boat +slipped toward her, containing a dreamy youth; and still she plucked the +fruit, and ate, and mused, as if no fairy prince were invading her +territories, and as if she wished not for one, or knew not her wishes. +Surrounded by the green shaven meadows, the pastoral summer buzz, the +weir-fall's thundering white, amid the breath and beauty of wild flowers, +she was a bit of lovely human life in a fair setting; a terrible +attraction. The Magnetic Youth leaned round to note his proximity to the +weir-piles, and beheld the sweet vision. Stiller and stiller grew +nature, as at the meeting of two electric clouds. Her posture was so +graceful, that though he was making straight for the weir, he dared not +dip a scull. Just then one enticing dewberry caught her eyes. He was +floating by unheeded, and saw that her hand stretched low, and could not +gather what it sought. A stroke from his right brought him beside her. +The damsel glanced up dismayed, and her whole shape trembled over the +brink. Richard sprang from his boat into the water. Pressing a hand +beneath her foot, which she had thrust against the crumbling wet sides of +the bank to save herself, he enabled her to recover her balance, and gain +safe earth, whither he followed her. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +He had landed on an island of the still-vexed Bermoothes. The world lay +wrecked behind him: Raynham hung in mists, remote, a phantom to the vivid +reality of this white hand which had drawn him thither away thousands of +leagues in an eye-twinkle. Hark, how Ariel sang overhead! What +splendour in the heavens! What marvels of beauty about his enchanted +brows! And, O you wonder! Fair Flame! by whose light the glories of +being are now first seen....Radiant Miranda! Prince Ferdinand is at your +feet. + +Or is it Adam, his rib taken from his side in sleep, and thus +transformed, to make him behold his Paradise, and lose it?... + +The youth looked on her with as glowing an eye. It was the First Woman +to him. + +And she--mankind was all Caliban to her, saving this one princely youth. + +So to each other said their changing eyes in the moment they stood +together; he pale, and she blushing. + +She was indeed sweetly fair, and would have been held fair among rival +damsels. On a magic shore, and to a youth educated by a System, strung +like an arrow drawn to the head, he, it might be guessed, could fly fast +and far with her. The soft rose in her cheeks, the clearness of her +eyes, bore witness to the body's virtue; and health and happy blood were +in her bearing. Had she stood before Sir Austin among rival damsels, +that Scientific Humanist, for the consummation of his System, would have +thrown her the handkerchief for his son. The wide summer-hat, nodding +over her forehead to her brows, seemed to flow with the flowing heavy +curls, and those fire-threaded mellow curls, only half-curls, waves of +hair call them, rippling at the ends, went like a sunny red-veined +torrent down her back almost to her waist: a glorious vision to the +youth, who embraced it as a flower of beauty, and read not a feature. +There were curious features of colour in her face for him to have read. +Her brows, thick and brownish against a soft skin showing the action of +the blood, met in the bend of a bow, extending to the temples long and +level: you saw that she was fashioned to peruse the sights of earth, and +by the pliability of her brows that the wonderful creature used her +faculty, and was not going to be a statue to the gazer. Under the dark +thick brows an arch of lashes shot out, giving a wealth of darkness to +the full frank blue eyes, a mystery of meaning--more than brain was ever +meant to fathom: richer, henceforth, than all mortal wisdom to Prince +Ferdinand. For when nature turns artist, and produces contrasts of +colour on a fair face, where is the Sage, or what the Oracle, shall match +the depth of its lightest look? + +Prince Ferdinand was also fair. In his slim boating-attire his figure +looked heroic. His hair, rising from the parting to the right of his +forehead, in what his admiring Lady Blandish called his plume, fell away +slanting silkily to the temples across the nearly imperceptible upward +curve of his brows there--felt more than seen, so slight it was--and gave +to his profile a bold beauty, to which his bashful, breathless air was a +flattering charm. An arrow drawn to the head, capable of flying fast and +far with her! He leaned a little forward, drinking her in with all his +eyes, and young Love has a thousand. Then truly the System triumphed, +just ere it was to fall; and could Sir Austin have been content to draw +the arrow to the head, and let it fly, when it would fly, he might have +pointed to his son again, and said to the world, "Match him!" Such keen +bliss as the youth had in the sight of her, an innocent youth alone has +powers of soul in him to experience. + +"O Women!" says The Pilgrim's Scrip, in one of its solitary outbursts, +"Women, who like, and will have for hero, a rake! how soon are you not to +learn that you have taken bankrupts to your bosoms, and that the +putrescent gold that attracted you is the slime of the Lake of Sin!" + +If these two were Ferdinand and Miranda, Sir Austin was not Prospero, and +was not present, or their fates might have been different. + +So they stood a moment, changing eyes, and then Miranda spoke, and they +came down to earth, feeling no less in heaven. + +She spoke to thank him for his aid. She used quite common simple words; +and used them, no doubt, to express a common simple meaning: but to him +she was uttering magic, casting spells, and the effect they had on him +was manifested in the incoherence of his replies, which were too foolish +to be chronicled. + +The couple were again mute. Suddenly Miranda, with an exclamation of +anguish, and innumerable lights and shadows playing over her lovely face, +clapped her hands, crying aloud, "My book! my book!" and ran to the bank. + +Prince Ferdinand was at her side. "What have you lost?" he said. + +"My book!" she answered, her delicious curls swinging across her +shoulders to the stream. Then turning to him, "Oh, no, no! let me +entreat you not to," she said; "I do not so very much mind losing it." +And in her eagerness to restrain him she unconsciously laid her gentle +hand upon his arm, and took the force of motion out of him. + +"Indeed, I do not really care for the silly book," she continued, +withdrawing her hand quickly, and reddening. "Pray, do not!" + +The young gentleman had kicked off his shoes. No sooner was the spell of +contact broken than he jumped in. The water was still troubled and +discoloured by his introductory adventure, and, though he ducked his head +with the spirit of a dabchick, the book was missing. A scrap of paper +floating from the bramble just above the water, and looking as if fire +had caught its edges and it had flown from one adverse element to the +other, was all he could lay hold of; and he returned to land +disconsolately, to hear Miranda's murmured mixing of thanks and pretty +expostulations. + +"Let me try again," he said. + +"No, indeed!" she replied, and used the awful threat: "I will run away if +you do," which effectually restrained him. + +Her eye fell on the fire-stained scrap of paper, and brightened, as she +cried, "There, there! you have what I want. It is that. I do not care +for the book. No, please! You are not to look at it. Give it me." + +Before her playfully imperative injunction was fairly spoken, Richard had +glanced at the document and discovered a Griffin between two +Wheatsheaves: his crest in silver: and below--O wonderment immense! his +own handwriting! + +He handed it to her. She took it, and put it in her bosom. + +Who would have thought, that, where all else perished, Odes, Idyls, +Lines, Stanzas, this one Sonnet to the stars should be miraculously +reserved for such a starry fate--passing beatitude! + +As they walked silently across the meadow, Richard strove to remember the +hour and the mood of mind in which he had composed the notable +production. The stars were invoked, as seeing and foreseeing all, to +tell him where then his love reclined, and so forth; Hesper was +complacent enough to do so, and described her in a couplet + + "Through sunset's amber see me shining fair, + As her blue eyes shine through her golden hair." + +And surely no words could be more prophetic. Here were two blue eyes and +golden hair; and by some strange chance, that appeared like the working +of a divine finger, she had become the possessor of the prophecy, she +that was to fulfil it! The youth was too charged with emotion to speak. +Doubtless the damsel had less to think of, or had some trifling burden on +her conscience, for she seemed to grow embarrassed. At last she drew up +her chin to look at her companion under the nodding brim of her hat (and +the action gave her a charmingly freakish air), crying, "But where are +you going to? You are wet through. Let me thank you again; and, pray, +leave me, and go home and change instantly." + +"Wet?" replied the magnetic muser, with a voice of tender interest; "not +more than one foot, I hope. I will leave you while you dry your +stockings in the sun." + +At this she could not withhold a shy laugh. + +"Not I, but you. You would try to get that silly book for me, and you +are dripping wet. Are you not very uncomfortable?" + +In all sincerity he assured her that he was not. + +"And you really do not feel that you are wet?" + +He really did not: and it was a fact that he spoke truth. + +She pursed her dewberry mouth in the most comical way, and her blue eyes +lightened laughter out of the half-closed lids. + +"I cannot help it," she said, her mouth opening, and sounding harmonious +bells of laughter in his ears. "Pardon me, won't you?" + +His face took the same soft smiling curves in admiration of her. + +"Not to feel that you have been in the water, the very moment after!" she +musically interjected, seeing she was excused. + +"It's true," he said; and his own gravity then touched him to join a duet +with her, which made them no longer feel strangers, and did the work of a +month of intimacy. Better than sentiment, laughter opens the breast to +love; opens the whole breast to his full quiver, instead of a corner here +and there for a solitary arrow. Hail the occasion propitious, O British +young! and laugh and treat love as an honest God, and dabble not with the +sentimental rouge. These two laughed, and the souls of each cried out to +other, "It is I it is I." + +They laughed and forgot the cause of their laughter, and the sun dried +his light river clothing, and they strolled toward the blackbird's copse, +and stood near a stile in sight of the foam of the weir and the many- +coloured rings of eddies streaming forth from it. + +Richard's boat, meanwhile, had contrived to shoot the weir, and was +swinging, bottom upward, broadside with the current down the rapid +backwater. + +"Will you let it go?" said the damsel, eying it curiously. + +"It can't be stopped," he replied, and could have added: "What do I care +for it now!" + +His old life was whirled away with it, dead, drowned. His new life was +with her, alive, divine. + +She flapped low the brim of her hat. "You must really not come any +farther," she softly said. + +"And will you go, and not tell me who you are?" he asked, growing bold as +the fears of losing her came across him. "And will you not tell me +before you go"--his face burned--"how you came by that--that paper?" + +She chose to select the easier question for answer: "You ought to know +me; we have been introduced." Sweet was her winning off-hand affability. + +"Then who, in heaven's name, are you? Tell me! I never could have +forgotten you." + +"You have, I think," she said. + +"Impossible that we could ever have met, and I forget you!" + +She looked up at him. + +"Do you remember Belthorpe?" + +"Belthorpe! Belthorpe!" quoth Richard, as if he had to touch his brain +to recollect there was such a place. "Do you mean old Blaize's farm?" + +"Then I am old Blaize's niece." She tripped him a soft curtsey. + +The magnetized youth gazed at her. By what magic was it that this divine +sweet creature could be allied with that old churl! + +"Then what--what is your name?" said his mouth, while his eyes added, "O +wonderful creature! How came you to enrich the earth?" + +"Have you forgot the Desboroughs of Dorset, too?" she peered at him from +a side-bend of the flapping brim. + +"The Desboroughs of Dorset?" A light broke in on him. "And have you +grown to this? That little girl I saw there!" + +He drew close to her to read the nearest features of the vision. She +could no more laugh off the piercing fervour of his eyes. Her volubility +fluttered under his deeply wistful look, and now neither voice was high, +and they were mutually constrained. + +"You see," she murmured, "we are old acquaintances." + +Richard, with his eyes still intently fixed on her, returned, "You are +very beautiful!" + +The words slipped out. Perfect simplicity is unconsciously audacious. +Her overpowering beauty struck his heart, and, like an instrument that is +touched and answers to the touch, he spoke. + +Miss Desborough made an effort to trifle with this terrible directness; +but his eyes would not be gainsaid, and checked her lips. She turned +away from them, her bosom a little rebellious. Praise so passionately +spoken, and by one who has been a damsel's first dream, dreamed of +nightly many long nights, and clothed in the virgin silver of her +thoughts in bud, praise from him is coin the heart cannot reject, if it +would. She quickened her steps. + +"I have offended you!" said a mortally wounded voice across her shoulder. + +That he should think so were too dreadful. + +"Oh no, no! you would never offend me." She gave him her whole sweet +face. + +"Then why--why do you leave me?" + +"Because," she hesitated, "I must go." + +"No. You must not go. Why must you go? Do not go." + +"Indeed I must," she said, pulling at the obnoxious broad brim of her +hat; and, interpreting a pause he made for his assent to her rational +resolve, shyly looking at him, she held her hand out, and said, "Good- +bye," as if it were a natural thing to say. + +The hand was pure white--white and fragrant as the frosted blossom of a +Maynight. It was the hand whose shadow, cast before, he had last night +bent his head reverentially above, and kissed--resigning himself +thereupon over to execution for payment of the penalty of such daring--by +such bliss well rewarded. + +He took the hand, and held it, gazing between her eyes. + +"Good-bye," she said again, as frankly as she could, and at the same time +slightly compressing her fingers on his in token of adieu. It was a +signal for his to close firmly upon hers. + +"You will not go?" + +"Pray, let me," she pleaded, her sweet brows suing in wrinkles. + +"You will not go?" Mechanically he drew the white hand nearer his +thumping heart. + +"I must," she faltered piteously. + +"You will not go?" + +"Oh yes! yes!" + +"Tell me. Do you wish to go?" + +The question was a subtle one. A moment or two she did not answer, and +then forswore herself, and said, Yes. + +"Do you--you wish to go?" He looked with quivering eyelids under hers. + +A fainter Yes responded. + +"You wish--wish to leave me?" His breath went with the words. + +"Indeed I must." + +Her hand became a closer prisoner. + +All at once an alarming delicious shudder went through her frame. From +him to her it coursed, and back from her to him. Forward and back love's +electric messenger rushed from heart to heart, knocking at each, till it +surged tumultuously against the bars of its prison, crying out for its +mate. They stood trembling in unison, a lovely couple under these fair +heavens of the morning. + +When he could get his voice it said, "Will you go?" + +But she had none to reply with, and could only mutely bend upward her +gentle wrist. + +"Then, farewell!" he said, and, dropping his lips to the soft fair hand, +kissed it, and hung his head, swinging away from her, ready for death. + +Strange, that now she was released she should linger by him. Strange, +that his audacity, instead of the executioner, brought blushes and timid +tenderness to his side, and the sweet words, "You are not angry with me?" + +"With you, O Beloved!" cried his soul. "And you forgive me, fair +charity!" + +"I think it was rude of me to go without thanking you again," she said, +and again proffered her hand. + +The sweet heaven-bird shivered out his song above him. The gracious +glory of heaven fell upon his soul. He touched her hand, not moving his +eyes from her, nor speaking, and she, with a soft word of farewell, +passed across the stile, and up the pathway through the dewy shades of +the copse, and out of the arch of the light, away from his eyes. + +And away with her went the wild enchantment. He looked on barren air. +But it was no more the world of yesterday. The marvellous splendours had +sown seeds in him, ready to spring up and bloom at her gaze; and in his +bosom now the vivid conjuration of her tones, her face, her shape, makes +them leap and illumine him like fitful summer lightnings ghosts of the +vanished sun. + +There was nothing to tell him that he had been making love and declaring +it with extraordinary rapidity; nor did he know it. Soft flushed cheeks! +sweet mouth! strange sweet brows! eyes of softest fire! how could his +ripe eyes behold you, and not plead to keep you? Nay, how could he let +you go? And he seriously asked himself that question. + +To-morrow this place will have a memory--the river and the meadow, and +the white falling weir: his heart will build a temple here; and the +skylark will be its high-priest, and the old blackbird its glossy-gowned +chorister, and there will be a sacred repast of dewberries. To-day the +grass is grass: his heart is chased by phantoms and finds rest nowhere. +Only when the most tender freshness of his flower comes across him does +he taste a moment's calm; and no sooner does it come than it gives place +to keen pangs of fear that she may not be his for ever. + +Erelong he learns that her name is Lucy. Erelong he meets Ralph, and +discovers that in a day he has distanced him by a sphere. He and Ralph +and the curate of Lobourne join in their walks, and raise classical +discussions on ladies' hair, fingering a thousand delicious locks, from +those of Cleopatra to the Borgia's. "Fair! fair! all of them fair!" +sighs the melancholy curate, "as are those women formed for our +perdition! I think we have in this country what will match the Italian +or the Greek." His mind flutters to Mrs. Doria, Richard blushes before +the vision of Lucy, and Ralph, whose heroine's hair is a dark luxuriance, +dissents, and claims a noble share in the slaughter of men for dark- +haired Wonders. They have no mutual confidences, but they are singularly +kind to each other, these three children of instinct. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +Lady Blandish, and others who professed an interest in the fortunes and +future of the systematized youth, had occasionally mentioned names of +families whose alliance according to apparent calculations, would not +degrade his blood: and over these names, secretly preserved on an open +leaf of the note-book, Sir Austin, as he neared the metropolis, distantly +dropped his eye. There were names historic and names mushroomic; names +that the Conqueror might have called in his muster-roll; names that had +been, clearly, tossed into the upper stratum of civilized lifer by a +millwheel or a merchant-stool. Against them the baronet had written M. +or Po. or Pr.--signifying, Money, Position, Principles, favouring the +latter with special brackets. The wisdom of a worldly man, which he +could now and then adopt, determined him, before he commenced his round +of visits, to consult and sound his solicitor and his physician +thereanent; lawyers and doctors being the rats who know best the merits +of a house, and on what sort of foundation it may be standing. + +Sir Austin entered the great city with a sad mind. The memory of his +misfortune came upon him vividly, as if no years had intervened, and it +were but yesterday that he found the letter telling him that he had no +wife and his son no mother. He wandered on foot through the streets the +first night of his arrival, looking strangely at the shops and shows and +bustle of the world from which he had divorced himself; feeling as +destitute as the poorest vagrant. He had almost forgotten how to find +his way about, and came across his old mansion in his efforts to regain +his hotel. The windows were alight--signs of merry life within. He +stared at it from the shadow of the opposite side. It seemed to him he +was a ghost gazing upon his living past. And then the phantom which had +stood there mocking while he felt as other men--the phantom, now flesh +and blood reality, seized and convulsed his heart, and filled its +unforgiving crevices with bitter ironic venom. He remembered by the time +reflection returned to him that it was Algernon, who had the house at his +disposal, probably giving a card-party, or something of the sort. In the +morning, too, he remembered that he had divorced the world to wed a +System, and must be faithful to that exacting Spouse, who, now alone of +things on earth, could fortify and recompense him. + +Mr. Thompson received his client with the dignity and emotion due to such +a rent-roll and the unexpectedness of the honour. He was a thin stately +man of law, garbed as one who gave audience to acred bishops, and +carrying on his countenance the stamp of paternity to the parchment +skins, and of a virtuous attachment to Port wine sufficient to increase +his respectability in the eyes of moral Britain. After congratulating +Sir Austin on the fortunate issue of two or three suits, and being +assured that the baronet's business in town had no concern therewith, Mr. +Thompson ventured to hope that the young heir was all his father could +desire him to be, and heard with satisfaction that he was a pattern to +the youth of the Age. + +"A difficult time of life, Sir Austin!" said the old lawyer, shaking his +head. "We must keep our eyes on them--keep awake! The mischief is done +in a minute." + +"We must take care to have seen where we planted, and that the root was +sound, or the mischief will do itself in site of, or under the very +spectacles of, supervision," said the baronet. + +His legal adviser murmured "Exactly," as if that were his own idea, +adding, "It is my plan with Ripton, who has had the honour of an +introduction to you, and a very pleasant time he spent with my young +friend, whom he does not forget. Ripton follows the Law. He is articled +to me, and will, I trust, succeed me worthily in your confidence. I +bring him into town in the morning; I take him back at night. I think I +may say that I am quite content with him." + +"Do you think," said Sir Austin, fixing his brows, "that you can trace +every act of his to its motive?" + +The old lawyer bent forward and humbly requested that this might be +repeated. + +"Do you"--Sir Austin held the same searching expression--"do you +establish yourself in a radiating centre of intuition: do you base your +watchfulness on so thorough an acquaintance with his character, so +perfect a knowledge of the instrument, that all its movements--even the +eccentric ones--are anticipated by you, and provided for?" + +The explanation was a little too long for the old lawyer to entreat +another repetition. Winking with the painful deprecation of a deaf man, +Mr. Thompson smiled urbanely, coughed conciliatingly, and said he was +afraid he could not affirm that much, though he was happily enabled to +say that Ripton had borne an extremely good character at school. + +"I find," Sir Austin remarked, as sardonically he relaxed his inspecting +pose and mien, "there are fathers who are content to be simply obeyed. +Now I require not only that my son should obey; I would have him +guiltless of the impulse to gainsay my wishes--feeling me in him stronger +than his undeveloped nature, up to a certain period, where my +responsibility ends and his commences. Man is a self-acting machine. He +cannot cease to be a machine; but, though self-acting, he may lose the +powers of self-guidance, and in a wrong course his very vitalities hurry +him to perdition. Young, he is an organism ripening to the set mechanic +diurnal round, and while so he needs all the angels to hold watch over +him that he grow straight and healthy, and fit for what machinal duties +he may have to perform"... + +Mr. Thompson agitated his eyebrows dreadfully. He was utterly lost. He +respected Sir Austin's estates too much to believe for a moment he was +listening to downright folly. Yet how otherwise explain the fact of his +excellent client being incomprehensible to him? For a middle-aged +gentleman, and one who has been in the habit of advising and managing, +will rarely have a notion of accusing his understanding; and Mr. Thompson +had not the slightest notion of accusing his. But the baronet's +condescension in coming thus to him, and speaking on the subject nearest +his heart, might well affect him, and he quickly settled the case in +favour of both parties, pronouncing mentally that his honoured client had +a meaning, and so deep it was, so subtle, that no wonder he experienced +difficulty in giving it fitly significant words. + +Sir Austin elaborated his theory of the Organism and the Mechanism, for +his lawyer's edification. At a recurrence of the word "healthy" Mr. +Thompson caught him up: + +"I apprehended you! Oh, I agree with you, Sir Austin! entirely! Allow +me to ring for my son Ripton. I think, if you condescend to examine him, +you will say that regular habits, and a diet of nothing but law-reading-- +for other forms of literature I strictly interdict--have made him all +that you instance." + +Mr. Thompson's hand was on the bell. Sir Austin arrested him. + +"Permit me to see the lad at his occupation," said he. + +Our old friend Ripton sat in a room apart with the confidential clerk, +Mr. Beazley, a veteran of law, now little better than a document, looking +already signed and sealed, and shortly to be delivered, who enjoined +nothing from his pupil and companion save absolute silence, and sounded +his praises to his father at the close of days when it had been rigidly +observed--not caring, or considering, the finished dry old document that +he was, under what kind of spell a turbulent commonplace youth could be +charmed into stillness for six hours of the day. Ripton was supposed to +be devoted to the study of Blackstone. A tome of the classic legal +commentator lay extended outside his desk, under the partially lifted lid +of which nestled the assiduous student's head--law being thus brought +into direct contact with his brain-pan. The office-door opened, and he +heard not; his name was called, and he remained equally moveless. His +method of taking in Blackstone seemed absorbing as it was novel. + +"Comparing notes, I daresay," whispered Mr. Thompson to Sir Austin. "I +call that study!" + +The confidential clerk rose, and bowed obsequious senility. + +"Is it like this every day, Beazley?" Mr. Thompson asked with parental +pride. + +"Ahem!" the old clerk replied, "he is like this every day, sir. I could +not ask more of a mouse." + +Sir Austin stepped forward to the desk. His proximity roused one of +Ripton's senses, which blew a pall to the others. Down went the lid of +the desk. Dismay, and the ardours of study, flashed together in Ripton's +face. He slouched from his perch with the air of one who means rather to +defend his position than welcome a superior, the right hand in his +waistcoat pocket fumbling a key, the left catching at his vacant stool. + +Sir Austin put two fingers on the youth's shoulder, and said, leaning his +head a little on one side, in a way habitual to him, "I am glad to find +my son's old comrade thus profitably occupied. I know what study is +myself. But beware of prosecuting it too excitedly! Come! you must not +be offended at our interruption; you will soon take up the thread again. +Besides, you know, you must get accustomed to the visits of your client." + +So condescending and kindly did this speech sound to Mr. Thompson, that, +seeing Ripton still preserve his appearance of disorder and sneaking +defiance, he thought fit to nod and frown at the youth, and desired him +to inform the baronet what particular part of Blackstone he was absorbed +in mastering at that moment. + +Ripton hesitated an instant, and blundered out, with dubious +articulation, "The Law of Gravelkind." + +"What Law?" said Sir Austin, perplexed. + +"Gravelkind," again rumbled Ripton's voice. + +Sir Austin turned to Mr. Thompson for an explanation. The old lawyer was +shaking his law-box. + +"Singular!" he exclaimed. "He will make that mistake! What law, sir?" + +Ripton read his error in the sternly painful expression of his father's +face, and corrected himself. "Gavelkind, sir." + +"Ah!" said Mr. Thompson, with a sigh of relief. "Gravelkind, indeed! +Gavelkind! An old Kentish"--He was going to expound, but Sir Austin +assured him he knew it, and a very absurd law it was, adding, "I should +like to look at your son's notes, or remarks on the judiciousness of that +family arrangement, if he had any." + +"You were making notes, or referring to them, as we entered," said Mr. +Thompson to the sucking lawyer; "a very good plan, which I have always +enjoined on you. Were you not?" + +Ripton stammered that he was afraid he hid not any notes to show, worth +seeing. + +"What were you doing then, sir?" + +"Making notes," muttered Ripton, looking incarnate subterfuge. + +"Exhibit!" + +Ripton glanced at his desk and then at his father; at Sir Austin, and at +the confidential clerk. He took out his key. It would not fit the hole. + +"Exhibit!" was peremptorily called again. + +In his praiseworthy efforts to accommodate the keyhole, Ripton discovered +that the desk was already unlocked. Mr. Thompson marched to it, and held +the lid aloft. A book was lying open within, which Ripton immediately +hustled among a mass of papers and tossed into a dark corner, not before +the glimpse of a coloured frontispiece was caught by Sir Austin's eye. + +The baronet smiled, and said, "You study Heraldry, too? Are you fond of +the science?" + +Ripton replied that he was very fond of it--extremely attached, and threw +a further pile of papers into the dark corner. + +The notes had been less conspicuously placed, and the search for them was +tedious and vain. Papers, not legal, or the fruits of study, were found, +that made Mr. Thompson more intimate with the condition of his son's +exchequer; nothing in the shape of a remark on the Law of Gavelkind. + +Mr. Thompson suggested to his son that they might be among those scraps +he had thrown carelessly into the dark corner. Ripton, though he +consented to inspect them, was positive they were not there. + +"What have we here?" said Mr. Thompson, seizing a neatly folded paper +addressed to the Editor of a law publication, as Ripton brought them +forth, one by one. Forthwith Mr. Thompson fixed his spectacles and read +aloud: + + "To the Editor of the 'Jurist.' + +"Sir,--In your recent observations on the great case of Crim"-- + +Mr. Thompson hem'd! and stopped short, like a man who comes unexpectedly +upon a snake in his path. Mr. Beazley's feet shuffled. Sir Austin +changed the position of an arm. + +"It's on the other side, I think," gasped Ripton. + +Mr. Thompson confidently turned over, and intoned with emphasis. + +"To Absalom, the son of David, the little Jew usurer of Bond Court, +Whitecross Gutters, for his introduction to Venus, I O U Five pounds, +when I can pay. + + "Signed: RIPTON THOMPSON." + +Underneath this fictitious legal instrument was discreetly appended: + +"(Mem. Document not binding.)" + +There was a pause: an awful under-breath of sanctified wonderment and +reproach passed round the office. Sir Austin assumed an attitude. Mr. +Thompson shed a glance of severity on his confidential clerk, who parried +by throwing up his hands. + +Ripton, now fairly bewildered, stuffed another paper under his father's +nose, hoping the outside perhaps would satisfy him: it was marked "Legal +Considerations." Mr. Thompson had no idea of sparing or shielding his +son. In fact, like many men whose self-love is wounded by their +offspring, he felt vindictive, and was ready to sacrifice him up to a +certain point, for the good of both. He therefore opened the paper, +expecting something worse than what he had hitherto seen, despite its +formal heading, and he was not disappointed. + +The "Legal Considerations" related to the Case regarding, which Ripton +had conceived it imperative upon him to address a letter to the Editor of +the "Jurist," and was indeed a great case, and an ancient; revived +apparently for the special purpose of displaying the forensic abilities +of the Junior Counsel for the Plaintiff, Mr. Ripton Thompson, whose +assistance the Attorney-General, in his opening statement, congratulated +himself on securing; a rather unusual thing, due probably to the eminence +and renown of that youthful gentleman at the Bar of his country. So much +was seen from the copy of a report purporting to be extracted from a +newspaper, and prefixed to the Junior Counsel's remarks, or Legal +Considerations, on the conduct of the Case, the admissibility and non- +admissibility of certain evidence, and the ultimate decision of the +judges. + +Mr. Thompson, senior, lifted the paper high, with the spirit of one +prepared to do execution on the criminal, and in the voice of a town- +crier, varied by a bitter accentuation and satiric sing-song tone, +deliberately read: + + "VULCAN v. MARS. + +"The Attorney-General, assisted by Mr. Ripton Thompson, appeared on +behalf of the Plaintiff. Mr. Serjeant Cupid, Q.C., and Mr. Capital +Opportunity, for the Defendant." + +"Oh!" snapped Mr. Thompson, senior, peering venom at the unfortunate +Ripton over his spectacles, "your notes are on that issue, sir! Thus you +employ your time, sir!" + +With another side-shot at the confidential clerk, who retired immediately +behind a strong entrenchment of shrugs, Mr. Thompson was pushed by the +devil of his rancour to continue reading: + +"This Case is too well known to require more than a partial summary of +particulars"... + +"Ahem! we will skip the particulars, however partial," said Mr. Thompson. +"Ah!--what do you mean here, sir,--but enough! I think we may be excused +your Legal Considerations on such a Case. This is how you employ your +law-studies, sir! You put them to this purpose? Mr. Beazley! you will +henceforward sit alone. I must have this young man under my own eye. +Sir Austin! permit me to apologize to you for subjecting you to a scene +so disagreeable. It was a father's duty not to spare him." + +Mr. Thompson wiped his forehead, as Brutes might have done after passing +judgment on the scion of his house. + +"These papers," he went on, fluttering Ripton's precious lucubrations in +a waving judicial hand, "I shall retain. The day will come when he will +regard them with shame. And it shall be his penance, his punishment, to +do so! Stop!" he cried, as Ripton was noiselessly shutting his desk, +"have you more of them, sir; of a similar description? Rout them out! +Let us know you at your worst. What have you there--in that corner?" + +Ripton was understood to say he devoted that corner to old briefs on +important cases. + +Mr. Thompson thrust his trembling fingers among the old briefs, and +turned over the volume Sir Austin had observed, but without much +remarking it, for his suspicions had not risen to print. + +"A Manual of Heraldry?" the baronet politely, and it may be ironically, +inquired, before it could well escape. + +"I like it very much," said Ripton, clutching the book in dreadful +torment. + +"Allow me to see that you have our arms and crest correct." The baronet +proffered a hand for the book. + +"A Griffin between two Wheatsheaves," cried Ripton, still clutching it +nervously. + +Mr. Thompson, without any notion of what he was doing, drew the book from +Ripton's hold; whereupon the two seniors laid their grey heads together +over the title-page. It set forth in attractive characters beside a +coloured frontispiece, which embodied the promise displayed there, the +entrancing adventures of Miss Random, a strange young lady. + +Had there been a Black Hole within the area of those law regions to +consign Ripton to there and then, or an Iron Rod handy to mortify his +sinful flesh, Mr. Thompson would have used them. As it was, he contented +himself by looking Black Holes and Iron Rods at the detected youth, who +sat on his perch insensible to what might happen next, collapsed. + +Mr. Thompson cast the wicked creature down with a "Pah!" He, however, +took her up again, and strode away with her. Sir Austin gave Ripton a +forefinger, and kindly touched his head, saying, "Good-bye, boy! At some +future date Richard will be happy to see you at Raynham." + +Undoubtedly this was a great triumph to the System! + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +The conversation between solicitor and client was resumed. + +"Is it possible," quoth Mr. Thompson, the moment he had ushered his +client into his private room, "that you will consent, Sir Austin, to see +him and receive him again?" + +"Certainly," the baronet replied. "Why not? This by no means astonishes +me. When there is no longer danger to my son he will be welcome as he +was before. He is a schoolboy. I knew it. I expected it. The results +of your principle, Thompson!" + +"One of the very worst books of that abominable class!" exclaimed the old +lawyer, opening at the coloured frontispiece, from which brazen Miss +Random smiled bewitchingly out, as if she had no doubt of captivating +Time and all his veterans on a fair field. "Pah!" he shut her to with +the energy he would have given to the office of publicly slapping her +face; "from this day I diet him on bread and water--rescind his pocket- +money!--How he could have got hold of such a book! How he--! And what +ideas! Concealing them from me as he has done so cunningly! He trifles +with vice! His mind is in a putrid state! I might have believed--I did +believe--I might have gone on believing--my son Ripton to be a moral +young man!" The old lawyer interjected on the delusion of fathers, and +sat down in a lamentable abstraction. + +"The lad has come out!" said Sir Austin. "His adoption of the legal form +is amusing. He trifles with vice, true: people newly initiated are as +hardy as its intimates, and a young sinner's amusements will resemble +those of a confirmed debauchee. The satiated, and the insatiate, +appetite alike appeal to extremes. You are astonished at this revelation +of your son's condition. I expected it; though assuredly, believe me, +not this sudden and indisputable proof of it. But I knew that the seed +was in him, and therefore I have not latterly invited him to Raynham. +School, and the corruption there, will bear its fruits sooner or later. +I could advise you, Thompson, what to do with him: it would be my plan." + +Mr. Thompson murmured, like a true courtier, that he should esteem it an +honour to be favoured with Sir Austin Feverel's advice: secretly +resolute, like a true Briton, to follow his own. + +"Let him, then," continued the baronet, "see vice in its nakedness. +While he has yet some innocence, nauseate him! Vice, taken little by +little, usurps gradually the whole creature. My counsel to you, +Thompson, would be, to drag him through the sinks of town." + +Mr. Thompson began to blink again. + +"Oh, I shall punish him, Sir Austin! Do not fear me, air. I have no +tenderness for vice." + +"That is not what is wanted, Thompson. You mistake me. He should be +dealt with gently. Heavens! do you hope to make him hate vice by making +him a martyr for its sake? You must descend from the pedestal of age to +become his Mentor: cause him to see how certainly and pitilessly vice +itself punishes: accompany him into its haunts"-- + +"Over town?" broke forth Mr. Thompson. + +"Over town," said the baronet. + +"And depend upon it," he added, "that, until fathers act thoroughly up to +their duty, we shall see the sights we see in great cities, and hear the +tales we hear in little villages, with death and calamity in our homes, +and a legacy of sorrow and shame to the generations to come. I do aver," +he exclaimed, becoming excited, "that, if it were not for the duty to my +son, and the hope I cherish in him, I, seeing the accumulation of misery +we are handing down to an innocent posterity--to whom, through our sin, +the fresh breath of life will be foul--I--yes! I would hide my name! +For whither are we tending? What home is pure absolutely? What cannot +our doctors and lawyers tell us?" + +Mr. Thompson acquiesced significantly. + +"And what is to come of this?" Sir Austin continued. "When the sins of +the fathers are multiplied by the sons, is not perdition the final sum of +things? And is not life, the boon of heaven, growing to be the devil's +game utterly? But for my son, I would hide my name. I would not +bequeath it to be cursed by them that walk above my grave!" + +This was indeed a terrible view of existence. Mr. Thompson felt uneasy. +There was a dignity in his client, an impressiveness in his speech, that +silenced remonstrating reason and the cry of long years of comfortable +respectability. Mr. Thompson went to church regularly; paid his rates +and dues without overmuch, or at least more than common, grumbling. On +the surface he was a good citizen, fond of his children, faithful to his +wife, devoutly marching to a fair seat in heaven on a path paved by +something better than a thousand a year. But here was a man sighting him +from below the surface, and though it was an unfair, unaccustomed, not to +say un-English, method of regarding one's fellow-man, Mr. Thompson was +troubled by it. What though his client exaggerated? Facts were at the +bottom of what he said. And he was acute--he had unmasked Ripton! Since +Ripton's exposure he winced at a personal application in the text his +client preached from. Possibly this was the secret source of part of his +anger against that peccant youth. + +Mr. Thompson shook his head, and, with dolefully puckered visage and a +pitiable contraction of his shoulders, rose slowly up from his chair. +Apparently he was about to speak, but he straightway turned and went +meditatively to a side-recess in the room, whereof he opened a door, drew +forth a tray and a decanter labelled Port, filled a glass for his client, +deferentially invited him to partake of it; filled another glass for +himself, and drank. + +That was his reply. + +Sir Austin never took wine before dinner. Thompson had looked as if he +meant to speak: he waited for Thompson's words. + +Mr. Thompson saw that, as his client did not join him in his glass, the +eloquence of that Porty reply was lost on his client. + +Having slowly ingurgitated and meditated upon this precious draught, and +turned its flavour over and over with an aspect of potent Judicial wisdom +(one might have thought that he was weighing mankind m the balance), the +old lawyer heaved, and said, sharpening his lips over the admirable +vintage, "The world is in a very sad state, I fear, Sir Austin!" + +His client gazed at him queerly. + +"But that," Mr. Thompson added immediately, ill-concealing by his gaze +the glowing intestinal congratulations going on within him, "that is, I +think you would say, Sir Austin--if I could but prevail upon you--a +tolerably good character wine!" + +"There's virtue somewhere, I see, Thompson!" Sir Austin murmured, without +disturbing his legal adviser's dimples. + +The old lawyer sat down to finish his glass, saying, that such a wine was +not to be had everywhere. + +They were then outwardly silent for a apace. Inwardly one of them was +full of riot and jubilant uproar: as if the solemn fields of law were +suddenly to be invaded and possessed by troops of Bacchanals: and to +preserve a decently wretched physiognomy over it, and keep on terms with +his companion, he had to grimace like a melancholy clown in a pantomime. + +Mr. Thompson brushed back his hair. The baronet was still expectant. +Mr. Thompson sighed deeply, and emptied his glass. He combated the +change that had come over him. He tried not to see Ruby. He tried to +feel miserable, and it was not in him. He spoke, drawing what +appropriate inspirations he could from his client's countenance, to show +that they had views in common: "Degenerating sadly, I fear!" + +The baronet nodded. + +"According to what my wine-merchants say," continued Mr. Thompson, "there +can be no doubt about it." + +Sir Austin stared. + +"It's the grape, or the ground, or something," Mr. Thompson went on. +"All I can say is, our youngsters will have a bad look-out! In my +opinion Government should be compelled to send out a Commission to +inquire into the cause. To Englishmen it would be a public calamity. It +surprises me--I hear men sit and talk despondently of this extraordinary +disease of the vine, and not one of them seems to think it incumbent on +him to act, and do his best to stop it." He fronted his client like a +man who accuses an enormous public delinquency. "Nobody makes a stir! +The apathy of Englishmen will become proverbial. Pray, try it, Sir +Austin! Pray, allow me. Such a wine cannot disagree at any hour. Do! +I am allowanced two glasses three hours before dinner. Stomachic. I +find it agree with me surprisingly: quite a new man. I suppose it will +last our time. It must! What should we do? There's no Law possible +without it. Not a lawyer of us could live. Ours is an occupation which +dries the blood." + +The scene with Ripton had unnerved him, the wine had renovated, and +gratitude to the wine inspired his tongue. He thought that his client, +of the whimsical mind, though undoubtedly correct moral views, had need +of a glass. + +"Now that very wine--Sir Austin--I think I do not err in saying, that +very wine your respected father, Sir Pylcher Feverel, used to taste +whenever he came to consult my father, when I was a boy. And I remember +one day being called in, and Sir Pylcher himself poured me out a glass. +I wish I could call in Ripton now, and do the same. No! Leniency in such +a case as that!--The wine would not hurt him--I doubt if there be much +left for him to welcome his guests with. Ha! ha! Now if I could +persuade you, Sir Austin, as you do not take wine before dinner, some day +to favour me with your company at my little country cottage I have a wine +there--the fellow to that--I think you would, I do think you would"--Mr. +Thompson meant to say, he thought his client would arrive at something of +a similar jocund contemplation of his fellows in their degeneracy that +inspirited lawyers after potation, but condensed the sensual promise into +"highly approve." + +Sir Austin speculated on his legal adviser with a sour mouth comically +compressed. + +It stood clear to him that Thompson before his Port, and Thompson after, +were two different men. To indoctrinate him now was too late: it was +perhaps the time to make the positive use of him he wanted. + +He pencilled on a handy slip of paper: "Two prongs of a fork; the World +stuck between them--Port and the Palate: 'Tis one which fails first--Down +goes World;" and again the hieroglyph--"Port-spectacles." He said, "I +shall gladly accompany you this evening, Thompson," words that +transfigured the delighted lawyer, and ensigned the skeleton of a great +Aphorism to his pocket, there to gather flesh and form, with numberless +others in a like condition. + +"I came to visit my lawyer," he said to himself. "I think I have been +dealing with The World in epitome!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +The rumour circulated that Sir Austin Feverel, the recluse of Raynham, +the rank misogynist, the rich baronet, was in town, looking out a bride +for his only son and uncorrupted heir. Doctor Benjamin Bairam was the +excellent authority. Doctor Bairam had safely delivered Mrs. Deborah +Gossip of this interesting bantling, which was forthwith dandled in +dozens of feminine laps. Doctor Bairam could boast the first interview +with the famous recluse. He had it from his own lips that the object of +the baronet was to look out a bride for his only son and uncorrupted +heir; "and," added the doctor, "she'll be lucky who gets him." Which was +interpreted to mean, that he would be a catch; the doctor probably +intending to allude to certain extraordinary difficulties in the way of a +choice. + +A demand was made on the publisher of The Pilgrim's Scrip for all his +outstanding copies. Conventionalities were defied. A summer-shower of +cards fell on the baronet's table. + +He had few male friends. He shunned the Clubs as nests of scandal. The +cards he contemplated were mostly those of the sex, with the husband, if +there was a husband, evidently dragged in for propriety's sake. He +perused the cards and smiled. He knew their purpose. What terrible +light Thompson and Bairam had thrown on some of them! Heavens! in what a +state was the blood of this Empire. + +Before commencing his campaign he called on two ancient intimates, Lord +Heddon, and his distant cousin Darley Absworthy, both Members of +Parliament, useful men, though gouty, who had sown in their time a fine +crop of wild oats, and advocated the advantage of doing so, seeing that +they did not fancy themselves the worse for it. He found one with an +imbecile son and the other with consumptive daughters. "So much," he +wrote in the Note-book, "for the Wild Oats theory!" + +Darley was proud of his daughters' white and pink skins. "Beautiful +complexions," he called them. The eldest was in the market, immensely +admired. Sir Austin was introduced to her. She talked fluently and +sweetly. A youth not on his guard, a simple school-boy youth, or even a +man, might have fallen in love with her, she was so affable and fair. +There was something poetic about her. And she was quite well, she said, +the baronet frequently questioning her on that point. She intimated that +she was robust; but towards the close of their conversation her hand +would now and then travel to her side, and she breathed painfully an +instant, saying, "Isn't it odd? Dora, Adela, and myself, we all feel the +same queer sensation--about the heart, I think it is--after talking +much." + +Sir Austin nodded and blinked sadly, exclaiming to his soul, "Wild oats! +wild oats!" + +He did not ask permission to see Dora and Adela. + +Lord Heddon vehemently preached wild oats. + +"It's all nonsense, Feverel," he said, "about bringing up a lad out of +the common way. He's all the better for a little racketing when he's +green--feels his bone and muscle learns to know the world. He'll never +be a man if he hasn't played at the old game one time in his life, and +the earlier the better. I've always found the best fellows were wildish +once. I don't care what he does when he's a green-horn; besides, he's +got an excuse for it then. You can't expect to have a man, if he doesn't +take a man's food. You'll have a milksop. And, depend upon it, when he +does break out he'll go to the devil, and nobody pities him. Look what +those fellows the grocers, do when they get hold of a young--what d'ye +call 'em?--apprentice. They know the scoundrel was born with a sweet +tooth. Well! they give him the run of the shop, and in a very short time +he soberly deals out the goods, a devilish deal too wise to abstract a +morsel even for the pleasure of stealing. I know you have contrary +theories. You hold that the young grocer should have a soul above sugar. +It won't do! Take my word for it, Feverel, it's a dangerous experiment, +that of bringing up flesh and blood in harness. No colt will bear it, or +he's a tame beast. And look you: take it on medical grounds. Early +excesses the frame will recover from: late ones break the constitution. +There's the case in a nutshell. How's your son?" + +"Sound and well!" replied Sir Austin. "And yours?" + +"Oh, Lipscombe's always the same!" Lord Heddon sighed peevishly. "He's +quiet--that's one good thing; but there's no getting the country to take +him, so I must give up hopes of that." + +Lord Lipscombe entering the room just then, Sir Austin surveyed him, and +was not astonished at the refusal of the country to take him. + +"Wild oats!" he thought, as he contemplated the headless, degenerate, +weedy issue and result. + +Both Darley Absworthy and Lord Heddon spoke of the marriage of their +offspring as a matter of course. "And if I were not a coward," Sir +Austin confessed to himself, "I should stand forth and forbid the banns! +This universal ignorance of the inevitable consequence of sin is +frightful! The wild oats plea is a torpedo that seems to have struck the +world, and rendered it morally insensible." However, they silenced him. +He was obliged to spare their feelings on a subject to him so deeply +sacred. The healthful image of his noble boy rose before him, a +triumphant living rejoinder to any hostile argument. + +He was content to remark to his doctor, that he thought the third +generation of wild oats would be a pretty thin crop! + +Families against whom neither Thompson lawyer nor Bairam physician could +recollect a progenitorial blot, either on the male or female side, were +not numerous. "Only," said the doctors "you really must not be too +exacting in these days, my dear Sir Austin. It is impossible to contest +your principle, and you are doing mankind incalculable service in calling +its attention to this the gravest of its duties: but as the stream of +civilization progresses we must be a little taken in the lump, as it +were. The world is, I can assure you--and I do not look only above the +surface, you can believe--the world is awakening to the vital importance +of the question." + +"Doctor," replied Sir Austin, "if you had a pure-blood Arab barb would +you cross him with a screw?" + +"Decidedly not," said the doctor. + +"Then permit me to say, I shall employ every care to match my son +according to his merits," Sir Austin returned. "I trust the world is +awakening, as you observe. I have been to my publisher, since my arrival +in town, with a manuscript 'Proposal for a New System of Education of our +British Youth,' which may come in opportunely. I think I am entitled to +speak on that subject." + +"Certainly," said the doctor. "You will admit, Sir Austin, that, +compared with continental nations--our neighbours, for instance--we shine +to advantage, in morals, as in everything else. I hope you admit that?" + +"I find no consolation in shining by comparison with a lower standard," +said the baronet. "If I compare the enlightenment of your views--for you +admit my principle--with the obstinate incredulity of a country doctor's, +who sees nothing of the world, you are hardly flattered, I presume?" + +Doctor Bairam would hardly be flattered at such a comparison, assuredly, +he interjected. + +"Besides," added the baronet, "the French make no pretences, and thereby +escape one of the main penalties of hypocrisy. Whereas we!--but I am not +their advocate, credit me. It is better, perhaps, to pay our homage to +virtue. At least it delays the spread of entire corruptness." + +Doctor Bairam wished the baronet success, and diligently endeavoured to +assist his search for a mate worthy of the pure-blood barb, by putting +several mamas, whom he visited, on the alert. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +Away with Systems! Away with a corrupt World! Let us breathe the air of +the Enchanted Island. + +Golden lie the meadows: golden run the streams; red gold is on the pine- +stems. The sun is coming down to earth, and walks the fields and the +waters. + +The sun is coming down to earth, and the fields and the waters shout to +him golden shouts. He comes, and his heralds run before him, and touch +the leaves of oaks and planes and beeches lucid green, and the pine-stems +redder gold; leaving brightest footprints upon thickly-weeded banks, +where the foxglove's last upper-bells incline, and bramble-shoots wander +amid moist rich herbage. The plumes of the woodland are alight; and +beyond them, over the open, 'tis a race with the long-thrown shadows; a +race across the heaths and up the hills, till, at the farthest bourne of +mounted eastern cloud, the heralds of the sun lay rosy fingers and rest. + +Sweet are the shy recesses of the woodland. The ray treads softly there. +A film athwart the pathway quivers many-hued against purple shade +fragrant with warm pines, deep moss-beds, feathery ferns. The little +brown squirrel drops tail, and leaps; the inmost bird is startled to a +chance tuneless note. From silence into silence things move. + +Peeps of the revelling splendour above and around enliven the conscious +full heart within. The flaming West, the crimson heights, shower their +glories through voluminous leafage. But these are bowers where deep +bliss dwells, imperial joy, that owes no fealty to yonder glories, in +which the young lamb gambols and the spirits of men are glad. Descend, +great Radiance! embrace creation with beneficent fire, and pass from us! +You and the vice-regal light that succeeds to you, and all heavenly +pageants, are the ministers and the slaves of the throbbing content +within. + +For this is the home of the enchantment. Here, secluded from vexed +shores, the prince and princess of the island meet: here like darkling +nightingales they sit, and into eyes and ears and hands pour endless +ever-fresh treasures of their souls. + +Roll on, grinding wheels of the world: cries of ships going down in a +calm, groans of a System which will not know its rightful hour of +exultation, complain to the universe. You are not heard here. + +He calls her by her name, Lucy: and she, blushing at her great boldness, +has called him by his, Richard. Those two names are the key-notes of the +wonderful harmonies the angels sing aloft. + +"Lucy! my beloved!" + +"O Richard!" + +Out in the world there, on the skirts of the woodland, a sheep-boy pipes +to meditative eve on a penny-whistle. + +Love's musical instrument is as old, and as poor: it has but two stops; +and yet, you see, the cunning musician does thus much with it! + +Other speech they have little; light foam playing upon waves of feeling, +and of feeling compact, that bursts only when the sweeping volume is too +wild, and is no more than their sigh of tenderness spoken. + +Perhaps love played his tune so well because their natures had unblunted +edges, and were keen for bliss, confiding in it as natural food. To +gentlemen and ladies he fine-draws upon the viol, ravishingly; or blows +into the mellow bassoon; or rouses the heroic ardours of the trumpet; or, +it may be, commands the whole Orchestra for them. And they are pleased. +He is still the cunning musician. They languish, and taste ecstasy: but +it is, however sonorous, an earthly concert. For them the spheres move +not to two notes. They have lost, or forfeited and never known, the +first super-sensual spring of the ripe senses into passion; when they +carry the soul with them, and have the privileges of spirits to walk +disembodied, boundlessly to feel. Or one has it, and the other is a dead +body. Ambrosia let them eat, and drink the nectar: here sit a couple to +whom Love's simple bread and water is a finer feast. + +Pipe, happy sheep-bop, Love! Irradiated angels, unfold your wings and +lift your voices! + +They have out-flown philosophy. Their instinct has shot beyond the ken +of science. They were made for their Eden. + +"And this divine gift was in store for me!" + +So runs the internal outcry of each, clasping each: it is their recurring +refrain to the harmonies. How it illumined the years gone by and +suffused the living Future! + +"You for me: I for you!" + +"We are born for each other!" + +They believe that the angels have been busy about them from their +cradles. The celestial hosts have worthily striven to bring them +together. And, O victory! O wonder! after toil and pain, and +difficulties exceeding, the celestial hosts have succeeded! + +"Here we two sit who are written above as one!" + +Pipe, happy Love! pipe on to these dear innocents! + +The tide of colour has ebbed from the upper sky. In the West the sea of +sunken fire draws back; and the stars leap forth, and tremble, and retire +before the advancing moon, who slips the silver train of cloud from her +shoulders, and, with her foot upon the pine-tops, surveys heaven. + +"Lucy, did you never dream of meeting me?" + +"O Richard! yes; for I remembered you." + +"Lucy! and did you pray that we might meet?" + +"I did!" + +Young as when she looked upon the lovers in Paradise, the fair Immortal +journeys onward. Fronting her, it is not night but veiled day. Full +half the sky is flushed. Not darkness, not day, but the nuptials of the +two. + +"My own! my own for ever! You are pledged to me? Whisper!" + +He hears the delicious music. + +"And you are mine?" + +A soft beam travels to the fern-covert under the pinewood where they sit, +and for answer he has her eyes turned to him an instant, timidly +fluttering over the depths of his, and then downcast; for through her +eyes her soul is naked to him. + +"Lucy! my bride! my life!" + +The night-jar spins his dark monotony on the branch of the pine. The +soft beam travels round them, and listens to their hearts. Their lips +are locked. + +Pipe no more, Love, for a time! Pipe as you will you cannot express +their first kiss; nothing of its sweetness, and of the sacredness of it +nothing. St. Cecilia up aloft, before the silver organ-pipes of +Paradise, pressing fingers upon all the notes of which Love is but one, +from her you may hear it. + +So Love is silent. Out in the world there, on the skirts of the +woodland, the self-satisfied sheep-boy delivers a last complacent squint +down the length of his penny-whistle, and, with a flourish +correspondingly awry, he also marches into silence, hailed by supper. +The woods are still. There is heard but the night-jar spinning on the +pine-branch, circled by moonlight. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +Enchanted Islands have not yet rooted out their old brood of dragons. +Wherever there is romance, these monsters come by inimical attraction. +Because the heavens are certainly propitious to true lovers, the beasts +of the abysses are banded to destroy them, stimulated by innumerable sad +victories; and every love-tale is an Epic Par of the upper and lower +powers. I wish good fairies were a little more active. They seem to be +cajoled into security by the happiness of their favourites; whereas the +wicked are always alert, and circumspect. They let the little ones shut +their eyes to fancy they are not seen, and then commence. + +These appointments and meetings, involving a start from the dinner-table +at the hour of contemplative digestion and prime claret; the hour when +the wise youth Adrian delighted to talk at his ease--to recline in dreamy +consciousness that a work of good was going on inside him; these +abstractions from his studies, excesses of gaiety, and glumness, heavings +of the chest, and other odd signs, but mainly the disgusting behaviour of +his pupil at the dinner-table, taught Adrian to understand, though the +young gentleman was clever in excuses, that he had somehow learnt there +was another half to the divided Apple of Creation, and had embarked upon +the great voyage of discovery of the difference between the two halves. +With his usual coolness Adrian debated whether he might be in the +observatory or the practical stage of the voyage. For himself, as a man +and a philosopher, Adrian had no objection to its being either; and he +had only to consider which was temporarily most threatening to the +ridiculous System he had to support. Richard's absence annoyed him. The +youth was vivacious, and his enthusiasm good fun; and besides, when he +left table, Adrian had to sit alone with Hippias and the Eighteenth +Century, from both of whom he had extracted all the amusement that could +be got, and he saw his digestion menaced by the society of two ruined +stomachs, who bored him just when he loved himself most. Poor Hippias +was now so reduced that he had profoundly to calculate whether a +particular dish, or an extra-glass of wine, would have a bitter effect on +him and be felt through the remainder of his years. He was in the habit +of uttering his calculations half aloud, wherein the prophetic doubts of +experience, and the succulent insinuations of appetite, contended hotly. +It was horrible to hear him, so let us pardon Adrian for tempting him to +a decision in favour of the moment. + +"Happy to take wine with you," Adrian would say, and Hippias would regard +the decanter with a pained forehead, and put up the doctor. + +"Drink, nephew Hippy, and think of the doctor to-morrow!" the Eighteenth +Century cheerily ruffles her cap at him, and recommends her own practice. + +"It's this literary work!" interjects Hippias, handling his glass of +remorse. "I don't know what else it can be. You have no idea how +anxious I feel. I have frightful dreams. I'm perpetually anxious." + +"No wonder," says Adrian, who enjoys the childish simplicity to which an +absorbed study of his sensational existence has brought poor Hippias. +"No wonder. Ten years of Fairy Mythology! Could anyone hope to sleep in +peace after that? As to your digestion, no one has a digestion who is in +the doctor's hands. They prescribe from dogmas, and don't count on the +system. They have cut you down from two bottles to two glasses. It's +absurd. You can't sleep, because your system is crying out for what it's +accustomed to." + +Hippias sips his Madeira with a niggerdly confidence, but assures Adrian +that he really should not like to venture on a bottle now: it would be +rank madness to venture on a bottle now, he thinks. Last night only, +after partaking, under protest, of that rich French dish, or was it the +duck?--Adrian advised him to throw the blame on that vulgar bird.--Say +the duck, then. Last night, he was no sooner stretched in bed, than he +seemed to be of an enormous size all his limbs--his nose, his mouth, his +toes--were elephantine! An elephant was a pigmy to him. And his +hugeousness seemed to increase the instant he shut his eyes. He turned +on this side; he turned on that. He lay on his back; he tried putting +his face to the pillow; and he continued to swell. He wondered the room +could hold him--he thought he must burst it--and absolutely lit a candle, +and went to the looking-glass to see whether he was bearable. + +By this time Adrian and Richard were laughing uncontrollably. He had, +however, a genial auditor in the Eighteenth Century, who declared it to +be a new disease, not known in her day, and deserving investigation. She +was happy to compare sensations with him, but hers were not of the +complex order, and a potion soon righted her. In fact, her system +appeared to be a debatable ground for aliment and medicine, on which the +battle was fought, and, when over, she was none the worse, as she +joyfully told Hippias. Never looked ploughman on prince, or village +belle on Court Beauty, with half the envy poor nineteenth-century Hippias +expended in his gaze on the Eighteenth. He was too serious to note much +the laughter of the young men. + +This 'Tragedy of a Cooking-Apparatus,' as Adrian designated the malady of +Hippias, was repeated regularly ever evening. It was natural for any +youth to escape as quick as he could from such a table of stomachs. + +Adrian bore with his conduct considerately, until a letter from the +baronet, describing the house and maternal System of a Mrs. Caroline +Grandison, and the rough grain of hopefulness in her youngest daughter, +spurred him to think of his duties, and see what was going on. He gave +Richard half-an-hour's start, and then put on his hat to follow his own +keen scent, leaving Hippias and the Eighteenth Century to piquet. + +In the lane near Belthorpe he met a maid of the farm not unknown to him, +one Molly Davenport by name, a buxom lass, who, on seeing him, invoked +her Good Gracious, the generic maid's familiar, and was instructed by +reminiscences vivid, if ancient, to giggle. + +"Are you looking for your young gentleman?" Molly presently asked. + +Adrian glanced about the lane like a cool brigand, to see if the coast +was clear, and replied to her, "I am, miss. I want you to tell me about +him." + +"Dear!" said the buxom lass, "was you coming for me to-night to know?" + +Adrian rebuked her: for her bad grammar, apparently. + +"'Cause I can't stop out long to-night," Molly explained, taking the +rebuke to refer altogether to her bad grammar. + +"You may go in when you please, miss. Is that any one coming? Come here +in the shade." + +"Now, get along!" said Miss Molly. + +Adrian spoke with resolution. "Listen to me, Molly Davenport!" He put a +coin in her hand, which had a medical effect in calming her to attention. +"I want to know whether you have seen him at all?" + +"Who? Your young gentleman? I sh'd think I did. I seen him to-night +only. Ain't he grooved handsome. He's al'ays about Beltharp now. It +ain't to fire no more ricks. He's afire 'unself. Ain't you seen 'em +together? He's after the missis"-- + +Adrian requested Miss Davenport to be respectful, and confine herself to +particulars. This buxom lass then told him that her young missis and +Adrian's young gentleman were a pretty couple, and met one another every +night. The girl swore for their innocence. + +"As for Miss Lucy, she haven't a bit of art in her, nor have he." + +"They're all nature, I suppose," said Adrian. "How is it I don't see her +at church?" + +"She's Catholic, or some think," said Molly. "Her father was, and a +leftenant. She've a Cross in her bedroom. She don't go to church. I +see you there last Sunday a-lookin' so solemn," and Molly stroked her +hand down her chin to give it length. + +Adrian insisted on her keeping to facts. It was dark, and in the dark he +was indifferent to the striking contrasts suggested by the lass, but he +wanted to hear facts, and he again bribed her to impart nothing but +facts. Upon which she told him further, that her young lady was an +innocent artless creature who had been to school upwards of three years +with the nuns, and had a little money of her own, and was beautiful +enough to be a lord's lady, and had been in love with Master Richard ever +since she was a little girl. Molly had got from a friend of hers up at +the Abbey, Mary Garner, the housemaid who cleaned Master Richard's room, +a bit of paper once with the young gentleman's handwriting, and had given +it to her Miss Lucy, and Miss Lucy had given her a gold sovereign for it- +-just for his handwriting! Miss Lucy did not seem happy at the farm, +because of that young Tom, who was always leering at her, and to be sure +she was quite a lady, and could play, and sing, and dress with the best. + +"She looks like angels in her nightgown!" Molly wound up. + +The next moment she ran up close, and speaking for the first time as if +there were a distinction of position between them, petitioned: "Mr. +Harley! you won't go for doin' any harm to 'em 'cause of what I said, +will you now? Do say you won't now, Mr. Harley! She is good, though +she's a Catholic. She was kind to me when I was ill, and I wouldn't have +her crossed--I'd rather be showed up myself, I would!" + +The wise youth gave no positive promise to Molly, and she had to read his +consent in a relaxation of his austerity. The noise of a lumbering foot +plodding down the lane caused her to be abruptly dismissed. Molly took +to flight, the lumbering foot accelerated its pace, and the pastoral +appeal to her flying skirts was heard--"Moll! you theyre! It be I-- +Bantam!" But the sprightly Silvia would not stop to his wooing, and +Adrian turned away laughing at these Arcadians. + +Adrian was a lazy dragon. All he did for the present was to hint and +tease. "It's the Inevitable!" he said, and asked himself why he should +seek to arrest it. He had no faith in the System. Heavy Benson had. +Benson of the slow thick-lidded antediluvian eye and loose-crumpled skin; +Benson, the Saurian, the woman-hater; Benson was wide awake. A sort of +rivalry existed between the wise youth and heavy Benson. The fidelity of +the latter dependant had moved the baronet to commit to him a portion of +the management of the Raynham estate, and this Adrian did not like. No +one who aspires to the honourable office of leading another by the nose +can tolerate a party in his ambition. Benson's surly instinct told him +he was in the wise youth's way, and he resolved to give his master a +striking proof of his superior faithfulness. For some weeks the Saurian +eye had been on the two secret creatures. Heavy Benson saw letters come +and go in the day, and now the young gentleman was off and out every +night, and seemed to be on wings. Benson knew whither he went, and the +object he went for. It was a woman--that was enough. The Saurian eye +had actually seen the sinful thing lure the hope of Raynham into the +shades. He composed several epistles of warning to the baronet of the +work that was going on; but before sending one he wished to record a +little of their guilty conversation; and for this purpose the faithful +fellow trotted over the dews to eavesdrop, and thereby aroused the good +fairy, in the person of Tom Bakewell, the sole confidant of Richard's +state. + +Tom said to his young master, "Do you know what, sir? You be watched!" + +Richard, in a fury, bade him name the wretch, and Tom hung his arms, and +aped the respectable protrusion of the butler's head. + +"It's he, is it?" cried Richard. "He shall rue it, Tom. If I find him +near me when we're together he shall never forget it." + +"Don't hit too hard, sir," Tom suggested. "You hit mortal hard when +you're in earnest, you know." + +Richard averred he would forgive anything but that, and told Tom to be +within hail to-morrow night--he knew where. By the hour of the +appointment it was out of the lover's mind. + +Lady Blandish dined that evening at Raynham, by Adrian's pointed +invitation. According to custom, Richard started up and off, with few +excuses. The lady exhibited no surprise. She and Adrian likewise +strolled forth to enjoy the air of the Summer night. They had no +intention of spying. Still they may have thought, by meeting Richard and +his inamorata, there was a chance of laying a foundation of ridicule to +sap the passion. They may have thought so--they were on no spoken +understanding. + +"I have seen the little girl," said Lady Blandish. "She is pretty--she +would be telling if she were well set up. She speaks well. How absurd +it is of that class to educate their women above their station! The +child is really too good for a farmer. I noticed her before I knew of +this; she has enviable hair. I suppose she doesn't paint her eyelids. +Just the sort of person to take a young man. I thought there was +something wrong. I received, the day before yesterday, an impassioned +poem evidently not intended for me. My hair was gold. My meeting him +was foretold. My eyes were homes of light fringed with night. I sent it +back, correcting the colours." + +"Which was death to the rhymes," said Adrian. "I saw her this morning. +The boy hasn't bad taste. As you say, she is too good for a farmer. +Such a spark would explode any System. She slightly affected mine. The +Huron is stark mad about her." + +"But we must positively write and tell his father," said Lady Blandish. + +The wise youth did not see why they should exaggerate a trifle. The lady +said she would have an interview with Richard, and then write, as it was +her duty to do. Adrian shrugged, and was for going into the scientific +explanation of Richard's conduct, in which the lady had to discourage +him. + +"Poor boy!" she sighed. "I am really sorry for him. I hope he will not +feel it too strongly. They feel strongly, father and son." + +"And select wisely," Adrian added. + +"That's another thing," said Lady Blandish. + +Their talk was then of the dulness of neighbouring county people, about +whom, it seemed, there was little or no scandal afloat: of the lady's +loss of the season in town, which she professed not to regret, though she +complained of her general weariness: of whether Mr. Morton of Poer Hall +would propose to Mrs. Doria, and of the probable despair of the hapless +curate of Lobourne; and other gossip, partly in French. + +They rounded the lake, and got upon the road through the park to +Lobourne. The moon had risen. The atmosphere was warm and pleasant. + +"Quite a lover's night," said Lady Blandish. + +"And I, who have none to love pity me!" The wise youth attempted a sigh. + +"And never will have," said Lady Blandish, curtly. "You buy your loves." + +Adrian protested. However, he did not plead verbally against the +impeachment, though the lady's decisive insight astonished him. He began +to respect her, relishing her exquisite contempt, and he reflected that +widows could be terrible creatures. + +He had hoped to be a little sentimental with Lady Blandish, knowing her +romantic. This mixture of the harshest common sense and an air of "I +know you men," with romance and refined temperament, subdued the wise +youth more than a positive accusation supported by witnesses would have +done. He looked at the lady. Her face was raised to the moon. She knew +nothing--she had simply spoken from the fulness of her human knowledge, +and had forgotten her words. Perhaps, after all, her admiration, or +whatever feeling it was, for the baronet, was sincere, and really the +longing for a virtuous man. Perhaps she had tried the opposite set +pretty much. Adrian shrugged. Whenever the wise youth encountered a +mental difficulty he instinctively lifted his shoulders to equal +altitudes, to show that he had no doubt there was a balance in the case-- +plenty to be said on both sides, which was the same to him as a definite +solution. + +At their tryst in the wood, abutting on Raynham Park, wrapped in +themselves, piped to by tireless Love, Richard and Lucy sat, toying with +eternal moments. How they seem as if they would never end! What mere +sparks they are when they have died out! And how in the distance of time +they revive, and extend, and glow, and make us think them full the half, +and the best of the fire, of our lives! + +With the onward flow of intimacy, the two happy lovers ceased to be so +shy of common themes, and their speech did not reject all as dross that +was not pure gold of emotion. + +Lucy was very inquisitive about everything and everybody at Raynham. +Whoever had been about Richard since his birth, she must know the history +of, and he for a kiss will do her bidding. + +Thus goes the tender duet: + +"You should know my cousin Austin, Lucy.--Darling! Beloved!" + +"My own! Richard!" + +"You should know my cousin Austin. You shall know him. He would take to +you best of them all, and you to him. He is in the tropics now, looking +out a place--it's a secret--for poor English working-men to emigrate to +and found a colony in that part of the world:--my white angel!" + +"Dear love!" + +"He is such a noble fellow! Nobody here understands him but me. Isn't +it strange? Since I met you I love him better! That's because I love +all that's good and noble better now--Beautiful! I love--I love you!" + +"My Richard!" + +"What do you think I've determined, Lucy? If my father--but no! my +father does love me.--No! he will not; and we will be happy together +here. And I will win my way with you. And whatever I win will be yours; +for it will be owing to you. I feel as if I had no strength but yours-- +none! and you make me--O Lucy!" + +His voice ebbs. Presently Lucy murmurs-- + +"Your father, Richard." + +"Yes, my father?" + +"Dearest Richard! I feel so afraid of him." + +"He loves me, and will love you, Lucy." + +"But I am so poor and humble, Richard." + +"No one I have ever seen is like you, Lucy." + +"You think so, because you"-- + +"What?" + +"Love me," comes the blushing whisper, and the duet gives place to dumb +variations, performed equally in concert. + +It is resumed. + +"You are fond of the knights, Lucy. Austin is as brave as any of them.-- +My own bride! Oh, how I adore you! When you are gone, I could fall upon +the grass you tread upon, and kiss it. My breast feels empty of my +heart--Lucy! if we lived in those days, I should have been a knight, and +have won honour and glory for you. Oh! one can do nothing now. My lady- +love! My lady-love!--A tear?--Lucy?" + +"Dearest! Ah, Richard! I am not a lady." + +"Who dares say that? Not a lady--the angel I love!" + +"Think, Richard, who I am." + +"My beautiful! I think that God made you, and has given you to me." + +Her eyes fill with tears, and, as she lifts them heavenward to thank her +God, the light of heaven strikes on them, and she is so radiant in her +pure beauty that the limbs of the young man tremble. + +"Lucy! O heavenly spirit! Lucy!" + +Tenderly her lips part--"I do not weep for sorrow," + +The big bright drops lighten, and roll down, imaged in his soul. + +They lean together--shadows of ineffable tenderness playing on their +thrilled cheeks and brows. + +He lifts her hand, and presses his mouth to it. She has seen little of +mankind, but her soul tells her this one is different from others, and at +the thought, in her great joy, tears must come fast, or her heart will +break--tears of boundless thanksgiving. And he, gazing on those soft, +ray-illumined, dark-edged eyes, and the grace of her loose falling +tresses, feels a scarce-sufferable holy fire streaming through his +members. + +It is long ere they speak in open tones. + +"O happy day when we met!" + +What says the voice of one, the soul of the other echoes. + +"O glorious heaven looking down on us!" + +Their souls are joined, are made one for evermore beneath that bending +benediction. + +"O eternity of bliss!" + +Then the diviner mood passes, and they drop to earth. + +"Lucy! come with me to-night, and look at the place where you are some +day to live. Come, and I will row you on the lake. You remember what +you said in your letter that you dreamt?--that we were floating over the +shadow of the Abbey to the nuns at work by torchlight felling the +cypress, and they handed us each a sprig. Why, darling, it was the best +omen in the world, their felling the old trees. And you write such +lovely letters. So pure and sweet they are. I love the nuns for having +taught you." + +"Ah, Richard! See! we forget! Ah!" she lifts up her face pleadingly, as +to plead against herself, "even if your father forgives my birth, he will +not my religion. And, dearest, though I would die for you I cannot +change it. It would seem that I was denying God; and--oh! it would make +me ashamed of my love." + +"Fear nothing!" He winds her about with his arm. "Come! He will love +us both, and love you the more for being faithful to your father's creed. +You don't know him, Lucy. He seems harsh and stern--he is full of +kindness and love. He isn't at all a bigot. And besides, when he hears +what the nuns have done for you, won't he thank them, as I do? And--oh! +I must speak to him soon, and you must be prepared to see him soon, for I +cannot bear your remaining at Belthorpe, like a jewel in a sty. Mind! +I'm not saying a word against your uncle. I declare I love everybody and +everything that sees you and touches you. Stay! it is a wonder how you +could have grown there. But you were not born there, and your father had +good blood. Desborough!--here was a Colonel Desborough--never mind! +Come!" + +She dreads to. She begs not to. She is drawn away. + +The woods are silent, and then-- + +"What think you of that for a pretty pastoral?" says a very different +voice. + +Adrian reclined against a pine overlooking the fern-covert. Lady +Blandish was recumbent upon the brown pine-droppings, gazing through a +vista of the lower greenwood which opened out upon the moon-lighted +valley, her hands clasped round one knee, her features almost stern in +their set hard expression. + +They had heard, by involuntarily overhearing about as much as may be +heard in such positions, a luminous word or two. + +The lady did not answer. A movement among the ferns attracted Adrian, +and he stepped down the decline across the pine-roots to behold heavy +Benson below; shaking fern-seed and spidery substances off his crumpled +skin. + +"Is that you, Mr. Hadrian?" called Benson, starting, as he puffed, and +exercised his handkerchief. + +"Is it you, Benson, who have had the audacity to spy upon these +Mysteries?" Adrian called back, and coming close to him, added, "You +look as if you had just been well thrashed." + +"Isn't it dreadful, sir?" snuffled Benson. "And his father in ignorance, +Mr. Hadrian!" + +"He shall know, Benson! He shall know how, you have endangered your +valuable skin in his service. If Mr. Richard had found you there just +now I wouldn't answer for the consequences." + +"Ha!" Benson spitefully retorted. "This won't go on; Mr. Hadrian. It +shan't, sir. It will be put a stop to tomorrow, sir. I call it +corruption of a young gentleman like him, and harlotry, sir, I call it. +I'd have every jade flogged that made a young innocent gentleman go on +like that, sir." + +"Then, why didn't you stop it yourself, Benson? Ah, I see! you waited-- +what? This is not the first time you have been attendant on Apollo and +Miss Dryope? You have written to headquarters?" + +"I did my duty, Mr. Hadrian." + +The wise youth returned to Lady Blandish, and informed her of Benson's +zeal. The lady's eyes flashed. "I hope Richard will treat him as he +deserves," she said. + +"Shall we home?" Adrian inquired. + +"Do me a favour;" the lady replied. "Get my carriage sent round to meet +me at the park-gates." + +"Won't you?"-- + +"I want to be alone." + +Adrian bowed and left her. She was still sitting with her hands clasped +round one knee, gazing towards the dim ray-strewn valley. + +"An odd creature!" muttered the wise youth. "She's as odd as any of +them. She ought to be a Feverel. I suppose she's graduating for it. +Hang that confounded old ass of a Benson! He has had the impudence to +steal a march on me!" + + +The shadow of the cypress was lessening on the lake. The moon was +climbing high. As Richard rowed the boat, Lucy, sang to him softly. She +sang first a fresh little French song, reminding him of a day when she +had been asked to sing to him before, and he did not care to hear. "Did +I live?" he thinks. Then she sang to him a bit of one of those majestic +old Gregorian chants, that, wherever you may hear them, seem to build up +cathedral walls about you. The young man dropped the sculls. The +strange solemn notes gave a religions tone to his love, and wafted him +into the knightly ages and the reverential heart of chivalry. + +Hanging between two heavens on the lake: floating to her voice: the moon +stepping over and through white shoal's of soft high clouds above and +below: floating to her void--no other breath abroad! His soul went out +of his body as he listened. + +They must part. He rows her gently shoreward. + +"I never was so happy as to-night," she murmurs. + +"Look, my Lucy. The lights of the old place are on the lake. Look where +you are to live." + +"Which is your room, Richard?" + +He points it out to her. + +"O Richard! that I were one of the women who wait on you! I should ask +nothing more. How happy she must be!" + +"My darling angel-love. You shall be happy; but all shall wait on you, +and I foremost, Lucy." + +"Dearest! may I hope for a letter?" + +"By eleven to-morrow. And I?" + +"Oh! you will have mine, Richard." + +"Tom shall wait far it. A long one, mind! Did you like my last song?" + +She pats her hand quietly against her bosom, and he knows where it rests. +O love! O heaven! + +They are aroused by the harsh grating of the bow of the boat against the +shingle. He jumps out, and lifts her ashore. + +"See!" she says, as the blush of his embrace subsides--"See!" and +prettily she mimics awe and feels it a little, "the cypress does point +towards us. O Richard! it does!" + +And he, looking at her rather than at the cypress, delighting in her arch +grave ways-- + +"Why, there's hardly any shadow at all, Lucy. She mustn't dream, my +darling! or dream only of me." + +"Dearest! but I do." + +"To-morrow, Lucy! The letter in the morning, and you at night. O happy +to-morrow!" + +"You will be sure to be there, Richard?" + +"If I am not dead, Lucy." + +"O Richard! pray, pray do not speak of that. I shall not survive you." + +"Let us pray, Lucy, to die together, when we are to die. Death or life, +with you! Who is it yonder? I see some one--is it Tom? It's Adrian!" + +"Is it Mr. Harley?" The fair girl shivered. + +"How dares he come here!" cried Richard. + +The figure of Adrian, instead of advancing, discreetly circled the lake. +They were stealing away when he called. His call was repeated. Lucy +entreated Richard to go to him; but the young man preferred to summon his +attendant, Tom, from within hail, and send him to know what was wanted. + +"Will he have seen me? Will he have known me?" whispered Lucy, +tremulously. + +"And if he does, love?" said Richard. + +"Oh! if he does, dearest--I don't know, but I feel such a presentiment. +You have not spoken of him to-night, Richard. Is he good?" + +"Good?" Richard clutched her hand for the innocent maiden phrase. "He's +very fond of eating; that's all I know of Adrian." + +Her hand was at his lips when Tom returned. + +"Well, Tom?" + +"Mr. Adrian wishes particular to speak to you, sir," said Tom. + +"Do go to him, dearest! Do go!" Lucy begs him. + +"Oh, how I hate Adrian!" The young man grinds his teeth. + +"Do go!" Lucy urges him. "Tom--good Tom--will see me home. To-morrow, +dear love! To-morrow!" + +"You wish to part from me?" + +"Oh, unkind! but you must not come with me now. It may be news of +importance, dearest. Think, Richard!" + +"Tom! go back!" + +At the imperious command the well-drilled Tom strides off a dozen paces, +and sees nothing. Then the precious charge is confided to him. A heart +is cut in twain. + +Richard made his way to Adrian. "What is it you want with me, Adrian?" + +"Are we seconds, or principals, O fiery one?" was Adrian's answer. +"I want nothing with you, except to know whether you have seen Benson." + +"Where should I see Benson? What do I know of Benson's doings?" + +"Of course not--such a secret old fist as he is! I want some one to tell +him to order Lady Blandish's carriage to be sent round to the park-gates. +I thought he might be round your way over there--I came upon him +accidentally just now in Abbey-wood. What's the matter, boy?" + +"You saw him there?" + +"Hunting Diana, I suppose. He thinks she's not so chaste as they say," +continued Adrian. "Are you going to knock down that tree?" + +Richard had turned to the cypress, and was tugging at the tough wood. He +left it and went to an ash. + +"You'll spoil that weeper," Adrian cried. "Down she comes! But good- +night, Ricky. If you see Benson mind you tell him." + +Doomed Benson following his burly shadow hove in sight on the white road +while Adrian spoke. The wise youth chuckled and strolled round the lake, +glancing over his shoulder every now and then. + +It was not long before he heard a bellow for help--the roar of a dragon +in his throes. Adrian placidly sat down on the grass, and fixed his eyes +on the water. There, as the roar was being repeated amid horrid +resounding echoes, the wise youth mused in this wise-- + +"'The Fates are Jews with us when they delay a punishment,' says The +Pilgrim's Scrip, or words to that effect. The heavens evidently love +Benson, seeing that he gets his punishment on the spot. Master Ricky is +a peppery young man. He gets it from the apt Gruffudh. I rather believe +in race. What a noise that old ruffian makes! He'll require poulticing +with The Pilgrim's Scrip. We shall have a message to-morrow, and a +hubbub, and perhaps all go to town, which won't be bad for one who's been +a prey to all the desires born of dulness. Benson howls: there's life in +the old dog yet! He bays the moon. Look at her. She doesn't care. +It's the same to her whether we coo like turtle-doves or roar like twenty +lions. How complacent she looks! And yet she has dust as much sympathy +for Benson as for Cupid. She would smile on if both were being birched. +Was that a raven or Benson? He howls no more. It sounds guttural: frog- +like--something between the brek-kek-kek and the hoarse raven's croak. +The fellow'll be killing him. It's time to go to the rescue. A +deliverer gets more honour by coming in at the last gasp than if he +forestalled catastrophe.--Ho, there, what's the matter?" + +So saying, the wise youth rose, and leisurely trotted to the scene of +battle, where stood St. George puffing over the prostrate Dragon. + +"Holloa, Ricky! is it you?" said Adrian. "What's this? Whom have we +here?--Benson, as I live!" + +"Make this beast get up," Richard returned, breathing hard, and shaking +his great ash-branch. + +"He seems incapable, my dear boy. What have you been up to?--Benson! +Benson!--I say, Ricky, this looks bad." + +"He's shamming!" Richard clamoured like a savage. "Spy upon me, will he? +I tell you, he's shamming. He hasn't had half enough. Nothing's too bad +for a spy. Let him getup!" + +"Insatiate youth! do throw away that enormous weapon." + +"He has written to my father," Richard shouted. "The miserable spy! Let +him get up!" + +"Ooogh? I won't!" huskily groaned Benson. "Mr. Hadrian, you're a +witness--he's my back!"-- Cavernous noises took up the tale of his +maltreatment. + +"I daresay you love your back better than any part of your body now," +Adrian muttered. "Come, Benson! be a man. Mr. Richard has thrown away +the stick. Come, and get off home, and let's see the extent of the +damage." + +"Ooogh! he's a devil! Mr. Hadrian, sir, he's a devil!" groaned Benson, +turning half over in the road to ease his aches. + +Adrian caught hold of Benson's collar and lifted him to a sitting +posture. He then had a glimpse of what his hopeful pupil's hand could do +in wrath. The wretched butler's coat was slit and welted; his hat +knocked in; his flabby spirit so broken that he started and trembled if +his pitiless executioner stirred a foot. Richard stood over him, +grasping his great stick; no dawn of mercy for Benson in any corner of +his features. + +Benson screwed his neck round to look up at him, and immediately gasped, +"I won't get up! I won't! He's ready to murder me again!--Mr. Hadrian! +if you stand by and see it, you're liable to the law, sir--I won't get up +while he's near." No persuasion could induce Benson to try his legs +while his executioner stood by. + +Adrian took Richard aside: "You've almost killed the poor devil, Ricky. +You must be satisfied with that. Look at his face." + +"The coward bobbed while I struck" said Richard. "I marked his back. He +ducked. I told him he was getting it worse." + +At so civilized piece of savagery, Adrian opened his mouth wide. + +"Did you really? I admire that. You told him he was getting it worse?" + +Adrian opened his mouth again to shake another roll of laughter out. + +"Come," he said, "Excalibur has done his word. Pitch him into the lake. +And see--here comes the Blandish. You can't be at it again before a +woman. Go and meet her, and tell her the noise was an ox being +slaughtered. Or say Argus." + +With a whirr that made all Benson's bruises moan and quiver, the great +ash-branch shot aloft, and Richard swung off to intercept Lady Blandish. + +Adrian got Benson on his feet. The heavy butler was disposed to summon +all the commiseration he could feel for his bruised flesh. Every half- +step he attempted was like a dislocation. His groans and grunts were +frightful. + +"How much did that hat cost, Benson?" said Adrian, as he put it on his +head. + +"A five-and-twenty shilling beaver, Mr. Hadrian!" Benson caressed its +injuries. + +"The cheapest policy of insurance I remember to have heard of!" said +Adrian. + +Benson staggered, moaning at intervals to his cruel comforter. + +"He's a devil, Mr. Hadrian! He's a devil, sir, I do believe, sir. +Ooogh! he's a devil!--I can't move, Mr. Hadrian. I must be fetched. And +Dr. Clifford must be sent for, sir. I shall never be fit for work again. +I haven't a sound bone in my body, Mr. Hadrian." + +"You see, Benson, this comes of your declaring war upon Venus. I hope +the maids will nurse you properly. Let me see: you are friends with the +housekeeper, aren't you? All depends upon that." + +"I'm only a faithful servant, Mr. Hadrian," the miserable butler snarled. + +"Then you've got no friend but your bed. Get to it as quick as possible, +Benson." + +"I can't move." Benson made a resolute halt. "I must be fetched," he +whinnied. "It's a shame to ask me to move, Mr. Hadrian." + +"You will admit that you are heavy, Benson," said Adrian, "so I can't +carry you. However, I see Mr. Richard is very kindly returning to help +me." + +At these words heavy Benson instantly found his legs, and shambled on. + +Lady Blandish met Richard in dismay. + +"I have been horribly frightened," she said. "Tell me, what was the +meaning of those cries I heard?" + +"Only some one doing justice on a spy," said Richard, and the lady +smiled, and looked on him fondly, and put her hand through his hair. + +"Was that all? I should have done it myself if I had been a man. Kiss +me." + + + + + +ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: + +And so Farewell my young Ambition! and with it farewell all true +And to these instructions he gave an aim: "First be virtuous" +In Sir Austin's Note-book was written: "Between Simple Boyhood..." +It was now, as Sir Austin had written it down, The Magnetic Age +Laying of ghosts is a public duty +On the threshold of Puberty, there is one Unselfish Hour +Seed-Time passed thus smoothly, and adolescence came on +They believe that the angels have been busy about them +Who rises from Prayer a better man, his prayer is answered +Young as when she looked upon the lovers in Paradise +You've got no friend but your bed + + + + +End of this Project Gutenberg Etext of Ordeal Richard Feverel, v2 +by George Meredith + + + + + +THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL + +By GEORGE MEREDITH + +1905 + + + +BOOK 3. + +XXI. RICHARD IS SUMMONED TO TOWN TO HEAR A SERMON +XXII. INDICATES THE APPROACHES OF FEVER +XXIII. CRISIS IN THE APPLE-DISEASE +XXIV. OF THE SPRING PRIMROSE AND THE AUTUMNAL +XXV. IN WHICH THE HERO TAKES A STEP +XXVI. RECORDS THE RAPID DEVELOPMENT OF THE HERO +XXVII. CONTAINS AN INTERCESSION FOR THE HEROINE + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +By twelve o'clock at noon next day the inhabitants of Raynham Abbey knew +that Berry, the baronet's man, had arrived post-haste from town, with +orders to conduct Mr. Richard thither, and that Mr. Richard had refused +to go, had sworn he would not, defied his father, and despatched Berry to +the Shades. Berry was all that Benson was not. Whereas Benson hated +woman, Berry admired her warmly. Second to his own stately person, woman +occupied his reflections, and commanded his homage. Berry was of +majestic port, and used dictionary words. Among the maids of Raynham his +conscious calves produced all the discord and the frenzy those adornments +seem destined to create in tender bosoms. He had, moreover, the +reputation of having suffered for the sex; which assisted his object in +inducing the sex to suffer for him. What with his calves, and his +dictionary words, and the attractive halo of the mysterious +vindictiveness of Venus surrounding him, this Adonis of the lower +household was a mighty man below, and he moved as one. + +On hearing the tumult that followed Berry's arrival, Adrian sent for him, +and was informed of the nature of his mission, and its result. + +"You should come to me first," said Adrian. "I should have imagined you +were shrewd enough for that, Berry?" + +"Pardon me, Mr. Adrian," Berry doubled his elbow to explain. "Pardon me, +sir. Acting recipient of special injunctions I was not a free agent." + +"Go to Mr. Richard again, Berry. There will be a little confusion if he +holds back. Perhaps you had better throw out a hint or so of apoplexy. +A slight hint will do. And here--Berry! when you return to town, you +had better not mention anything--to quote Johnson--of Benson's +spiflication." + +"Certainly not, sir." + +The wise youth's hint had the desired effect on Richard. + +He dashed off a hasty letter by Tom to Belthorpe, and, mounting his +horse, galloped to the Bellingham station. + +Sir Austin was sitting down to a quiet early dinner at his hotel, when +the Hope of Raynham burst into his room. + +The baronet was not angry with his son. On the contrary, for he was +singularly just and self-accusing while pride was not up in arms, he had +been thinking all day after the receipt of Benson's letter that he was +deficient in cordiality, and did not, by reason of his excessive anxiety, +make himself sufficiently his son's companion: was not enough, as he +strove to be, mother and father to him.; preceptor and friend; previsor +and associate. He had not to ask his conscience where he had lately been +to blame towards the System. He had slunk away from Raynham in the very +crisis of the Magnetic Age, and this young woman of the parish (as Benson +had termed sweet Lucy in his letter) was the consequence. + +Yes! pride and sensitiveness were his chief foes, and he would trample on +them. To begin, he embraced his son: hard upon an Englishman at any +time--doubly so to one so shamefaced at emotion in cool blood, as it +were. It gave him a strange pleasure, nevertheless. And the youth +seemed to answer to it; he was excited. Was his love, then, beginning to +correspond with his father's as in those intimate days before the +Blossoming Season? + +But when Richard, inarticulate at first in his haste, cried out, +"My dear, dear father! You are safe! I feared--You are better, sir? +Thank God!" Sir Austin stood away from him. + +"Safe?" he said. "What has alarmed you?" + +Instead of replying, Richard dropped into a chair, and seized his hand +and kissed it. + +Sir Austin took a seat, and waited for his son to explain. + +"Those doctors are such fools!" Richard broke out. "I was sure they were +wrong. They don't know headache from apoplexy. It's worth the ride, +sir, to see you. You left Raynham so suddenly.--But you are well! +It was not an attack of real apoplexy?" + +His father's brows contorted, and he said, No, it was not. Richard +pursued: + +"If you were ill, I couldn't come too soon, though, if coroners' inquests +sat on horses, those doctors would be found guilty of mare-slaughter. +Cassandra'll be knocked up. I was too early for the train at Bellingham, +and I wouldn't wait. She did the distance in four hours and three- +quarters. Pretty good, sir, wasn't it?" + +"It has given you appetite for dinner, I hope," said the baronet, not so +well pleased to find that it was not simple obedience that had brought +the youth to him in such haste. + +"I'm ready," replied Richard. "I shall be in time to return by the last +train to-night. I will leave Cassandra in your charge for a rest." + +His father quietly helped him to soup, which he commenced gobbling with +an eagerness that might pass for appetite. + +"All well at Raynham?" said the baronet. + +"Quite, sir." + +"Nothing new?" + +"Nothing, sir." + +"The same as when I left?" + +"No change whatever!" + +"I shall be glad to get back to the old place," said the baronet. "My +stay in town has certainly been profitable. I have made some pleasant +acquaintances who may probably favour us with a visit there in the late +autumn--people you may be pleased to know. They are very anxious to see +Raynham." + +"I love the old place," cried Richard. "I never wish to leave it." + +"Why, boy, before I left you were constantly begging to see town." + +"Was I, sir? How odd! Well! I don't want to remain here. I've seen +enough of it." + +"How did you find your way to me?" + +Richard laughed, and related his bewilderment at the miles of brick, and +the noise, and the troops of people, concluding, "There's no place like +home!" + +The baronet watched his symptomatic brilliant eyes, and favoured him with +a double-dealing sentence-- + +"To anchor the heart by any object ere we have half traversed the world, +is youth's foolishness, my son. Reverence time! A better maxim that +than your Horatian." + +"He knows all!" thought Richard, and instantly drew away leagues from his +father, and threw up fortifications round his love and himself. + +Dinner over, Richard looked hurriedly at his watch, and said, with much +briskness, "I shall just be in time, sir, if we walk. Will you come with +me to the station?" + +The baronet did not answer. + +Richard was going to repeat the question, but found his father's eyes +fixed on him so meaningly that he wavered, and played with his empty +glass. + +"I think we will have a little more claret," said the baronet. + +Claret was brought, and they were left alone. + +The baronet then drew within arm's-reach of his son, and began: + +"I am not aware what you may have thought of me, Richard, during the +years we have lived together; and indeed I have never been in a hurry to +be known to you; and, if I had died before my work was done, I should not +have complained at losing half my reward, in hearing you thank me. +Perhaps, as it is, I never may. Everything, save selfishness, has its +recompense. I shall be content if you prosper." + +He fetched a breath and continued: "You had in your infancy a great +loss." Father and son coloured simultaneously. "To make that good to +you I chose to isolate myself from the world, and devote myself entirely +to your welfare; and I think it is not vanity that tells me now that the +son I have reared is one of the most hopeful of God's creatures. But for +that very reason you are open to be tempted the most, and to sink the +deepest. It was the first of the angels who made the road to hell." + +He paused again. Richard fingered at his watch. + +"In our House, my son, there is peculiar blood. We go to wreck very +easily. It sounds like superstition; I cannot but think we are tried as +most men are not. I see it in us all. And you, my son, are compounded +of two races. Your passions are violent. You have had a taste of +revenge. You have seen, in a small way, that the pound of flesh draws +rivers of blood. But there is now in you another power. You are +mounting to the table-land of life, where mimic battles are changed to +real ones. And you come upon it laden equally with force to create and +to destroy." He deliberated to announce the intelligence, with deep +meaning: "There are women in the world, my son!" + +The young man's heart galloped back to Raynham. + +"It is when you encounter them that you are thoroughly on trial. It is +when you know them that life is either a mockery to you, or, as some find +it, a gift of blessedness. They are our ordeal. Love of any human +object is the soul's ordeal; and they are ours, loving them, or not." + +The young man heard the whistle of the train. He saw the moon-lighted +wood, and the vision of his beloved. He could barely hold himself down +and listen. + +"I believe," the baronet spoke with little of the cheerfulness of belief, +"good women exist." + +Oh, if he knew Lucy! + +"But," and he gazed on Richard intently, "it is given to very few to meet +them on the threshold--I may say, to none. We find them after hard +buffeting, and usually, when we find the one fitted for us, our madness +has misshaped our destiny, our lot is cast. For women are not the end, +but the means, of life. In youth we think them the former, and +thousands, who have not even the excuse of youth, select a mate--or +worse--with that sole view. I believe women punish us for so perverting +their uses. They punish Society." + +The baronet put his hand to his brow as his mind travelled into +consequences. + +'Our most diligent pupil learns not so much as an earnest teacher,' says +The Pilgrim's Scrip; and Sir Austin, in schooling himself to speak with +moderation of women, was beginning to get a glimpse of their side of the +case. + +Cold Blood now touched on love to Hot Blood. + +Cold Blood said, "It is a passion coming in the order of nature, the ripe +fruit of our animal being." + +Hot Blood felt: "It is a divinity! All that is worth living for in the +world." + +Cold Blood said: "It is a fever which tests our strength, and too often +leads to perdition." + +Hot Blood felt: "Lead whither it will, I follow it." + +Cold Blood said: "It is a name men and women are much in the habit of +employing to sanctify their appetites." + +Hot Blood felt: "It is worship; religion; life!" + +And so the two parallel lines ran on. + +The baronet became more personal: + +"You know my love for you, my son. The extent of it you cannot know; but +you must know that it is something very deep, and--I do not wish to speak +of it--but a father must sometimes petition for gratitude, since the only +true expression of it is his son's moral good. If you care for my love, +or love me in return, aid me with all your energies to keep you what I +have made you, and guard you from the snares besetting you. It was in my +hands once. It is ceasing to be so. Remember, my son, what my love is. +It is different, I fear, with most fathers: but I am bound up in your +welfare: what you do affects me vitally. You will take no step that is +not intimate with my happiness, or my misery. And I have had great +disappointments, my son." + +So far it was well. Richard loved his father, and even in his frenzied +state he could not without emotion hear him thus speak. + +Unhappily, the baronet, who by some fatality never could see when he was +winning the battle, thought proper in his wisdom to water the dryness of +his sermon with a little jocoseness, on the subject of young men fancying +themselves in love, and, when they were raw and green, absolutely wanting +to be--that most awful thing, which the wisest and strongest of men +undertake in hesitation and after self-mortification and penance-- +married! He sketched the Foolish Young Fellow--the object of general +ridicule and covert contempt. He sketched the Woman--the strange thing +made in our image, and with all our faculties--passing to the rule of one +who in taking her proved that he could not rule himself, and had no +knowledge of her save as a choice morsel which he would burn the whole +world, and himself in the bargain, to possess. He harped upon the +Foolish Young Fellow, till the foolish young fellow felt his skin tingle +and was half suffocated with shame and rage. + +After this, the baronet might be as wise as he pleased: he had quite +undone his work. He might analyze Love and anatomize Woman. He might +accord to her her due position, and paint her fair: he might be shrewd, +jocose, gentle, pathetic, wonderfully wise: he spoke to deaf ears. + +Closing his sermon with the question, softly uttered: "Have you anything +to tell me, Richard?" and hoping for a confession, and a thorough re- +establishment of confidence, the callous answer struck him cold: "I have +not." + +The baronet relapsed in his chair, and made diagrams of his fingers. + +Richard turned his back on further dialogue by going to the window. In +the section of sky over the street twinkled two or three stars; shining +faintly, feeling the moon. The moon was rising: the woods were lifting +up to her: his star of the woods would be there. A bed of moss set about +flowers in a basket under him breathed to his nostril of the woodland +keenly, and filled him with delirious longing. + +A succession of hard sighs brought his father's hand on his shoulder. + +"You have nothing you could say to me, my son? Tell me, Richard! +Remember, there is no home for the soul where dwells a shadow of +untruth!" + +"Nothing at all, sir," the young man replied, meeting him with the full +orbs of his eyes. + +The baronet withdrew his hand, and paced the room. + +At last it grew impossible for Richard to control his impatience, and he +said: "Do you intend me to stay here, sir? Am I not to return to Raynham +at all to-night?" + +His father was again falsely jocular: + +"What? and catch the train after giving it ten minutes' start?" + +"Cassandra will take me," said the young man earnestly. "I needn't ride +her hard, sir. Or perhaps you would lend me your Winkelried? I should +be down with him in little better than three hours." + +"Even then, you know, the park-gates would be locked." + +"Well, I could stable him in the village. Dowling knows the horse, and +would treat him properly. May I have him, sir?" + +The cloud cleared off Richard's face as he asked. At least, if he missed +his love that night he would be near her, breathing the same air, marking +what star was above her bedchamber, hearing the hushed night-talk of the +trees about her dwelling: looking on the distances that were like hope +half fulfilled and a bodily presence bright as Hesper, since he knew her. +There were two swallows under the eaves shadowing Lucy's chamber-windows: +two swallows, mates in one nest, blissful birds, who twittered and cheep- +cheeped to the sole-lying beauty in her bed. Around these birds the +lover's heart revolved, he knew not why. He associated them with all his +close-veiled dreams of happiness. Seldom a morning passed when he did +not watch them leave the nest on their breakfast-flight, busy in the +happy stillness of dawn. It seemed to him now that if he could be at +Raynham to see them in to-morrow's dawn he would be compensated for his +incalculable loss of to-night: he would forgive and love his father, +London, the life, the world. Just to see those purple backs and white +breasts flash out into the quiet morning air! He wanted no more. + +The baronet's trifling had placed this enormous boon within the young +man's visionary grasp. + +He still went on trying the boy's temper. + +"You know there would be nobody ready for you at Raynham. It is unfair +to disturb the maids." + +Richard overrode every objection. + +"Well, then, my son," said the baronet, preserving his +half-jocular air, "I must tell you that it is my wish to have you in +town." + +"Then you have not been ill at all, sir!" cried Richard, as in his +despair he seized the whole plot. + +"I have been as well as you could have desired me to be," said his +father. + +"Why did they lie to me?" the young man wrathfully exclaimed. + +"I think, Richard, you can best answer that," rejoined Sir Austin, kindly +severe. + +Dread of being signalized as the Foolish Young Fellow prevented Richard +from expostulating further. Sir Austin saw him grinding his passion into +powder for future explosion, and thought it best to leave him for awhile. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +For three weeks Richard had to remain in town and endure the teachings of +the System in a new atmosphere. He had to sit and listen to men of +science who came to renew their intimacy with his father, and whom of all +men his father wished him to respect and study; practically scientific +men being, in the baronet's estimation, the only minds thoroughly mated +and enviable. He had to endure an introduction to the Grandisons, and +meet the eyes of his kind, haunted as he was by the Foolish Young Fellow. +The idea that he might by any chance be identified with him held the poor +youth in silent subjection. And it was horrible. For it was a continued +outrage on the fair image he had in his heart. The notion of the world +laughing at him because he loved sweet Lucy stung him to momentary +frenzies, and developed premature misanthropy in his spirit. Also the +System desired to show him whither young women of the parish lead us, and +he was dragged about at nighttime to see the sons and daughters of +darkness, after the fashion prescribed to Mr. Thompson; how they danced +and ogled down the high road to perdition. But from this sight possibly +the teacher learnt more than his pupil, since we find him seriously +asking his meditative hours, in the Note-book: "Wherefore Wild Oats are +only of one gender?" a question certainly not suggested to him at +Raynham; and again--"Whether men might not be attaching too rigid an +importance?"...to a subject with a dotted tail apparently, for he gives +it no other in the Note-book. But, as I apprehend, he had come to plead +in behalf of women here, and had deduced something from positive +observation. To Richard the scenes he witnessed were strange wild +pictures, likely if anything to have increased his misanthropy, but for +his love. + +Certain sweet little notes from Lucy sustained the lover during the first +two weeks of exile. They ceased; and now Richard fell into such +despondency that his father in alarm had to take measures to hasten their +return to Raynham. At the close of the third week Berry laid a pair of +letters, bearing the Raynham post-mark, on the breakfast-table, and, +after reading one attentively, the baronet asked his son if he was +inclined to quit the metropolis. + +"For Raynham, air?" cried Richard, and relapsed, saying, "As you will!" +aware that he had given a glimpse of the Foolish Young Fellow. + +Berry accordingly received orders to make arrangements for their instant +return to Raynham. + +The letter Sir Austin lifted his head from to bespeak his son's wishes +was a composition of the wise youth Adrian's, and ran thus: + +"Benson is doggedly recovering. He requires great indemnities. Happy +when a faithful fool is the main sufferer in a household! I quite agree +with you that our faithful fool is the best servant of great schemes. +Benson is now a piece of history. I tell him that this is indemnity +enough, and that the sweet Muse usually insists upon gentlemen being +half-flayed before she will condescend to notice them; but Benson, I +regret to say, rejects the comfort so fine a reflection should offer, and +had rather keep his skin and live opaque. Heroism seems partly a matter +of training. Faithful folly is Benson's nature: the rest has been thrust +upon. + +"The young person has resigned the neighbourhood. I had an interview +with the fair Papist myself, and also with the man Blaize. They were +both sensible, though one swore and the other sighed. She is pretty. I +hope she does not paint. I can affirm that her legs are strong, for she +walks to Bellingham twice a week to take her Scarlet bath, when, having +confessed and been made clean by the Romish unction, she walks back the +brisker, of which my Protestant muscular systems is yet aware. It was on +the road to Bellingham I engaged her. She is well in the matter of hair. +Madam Godiva might challenge her, it would be a fair match. Has it never +struck you that Woman is nearer the vegetable than Man?--Mr. Blaize +intends her for his son a junction that every lover of fairy mythology +must desire to see consummated. Young Tom is heir to all the agremens of +the Beast. The maids of Lobourne say (I hear) that he is a very Proculus +among them. Possibly the envious men say it for the maids. Beauty does +not speak bad grammar--and altogether she is better out of the way." + +The other letter was from Lady Blandish, a lady's letter, and said: + +"I have fulfilled your commission to the best of my ability, and heartily +sad it has made me. She is indeed very much above her station--pity that +it is so! She is almost beautiful--quite beautiful at times, and not in +any way what you have been led to fancy. The poor child had no story to +tell. I have again seen her, and talked with her for an hour as kindly +as I could. I could gather nothing more than we know. It is just a +woman's history as it invariably commences. Richard is the god of her +idolatry. She will renounce him, and sacrifice herself for his sake. +Are we so bad? She asked me what she was to do. She would do whatever +was imposed upon her--all but pretend to love another, and that she never +would, and, I believe, never will. You know I am sentimental, and I +confess we dropped a few tears together. Her uncle has sent her for the +Winter to the institution where it appears she was educated, and where +they are very fond of her and want to keep her, which it would be a good +thing if they were to do. The man is a good sort of man. She was +entrusted to him by her father, and he never interferes with her +religion, and is very scrupulous about all that pertains to it, though, +as he says, he is a Christian himself. In the Spring (but the poor child +does not know this) she is to come back, and be married to his lout of a +son. I am determined to prevent that. May I not reckon on your promise +to aid me? When you see her, I am sure you will. It would be sacrilege +to look on and permit such a thing. You know, they are cousins. She +asked me, where in the world there was one like Richard? What could I +answer? They were your own words, and spoken with a depth of conviction! +I hope he is really calm. I shudder to think of him when he comes, and +discovers what I have been doing. I hope I have been really doing right! +A good deed, you say, never dies; but we cannot always know--I must rely +on you. Yes, it is; I should think, easy to suffer martyrdom when one is +sure of one's cause! but then one must be sure of it. I have done +nothing lately but to repeat to myself that saying of yours, No. 54, C. +7, P.S.; and it has consoled me, I cannot say why, except that all wisdom +consoles, whether it applies directly or not: + +"'For this reason so many fall from God, who have attained to Him; that +they cling to Him with their Weakness, not with their Strength.' + +"I like to know of what you are thinking when you composed this or that +saying--what suggested it. May not one be admitted to inspect the +machinery of wisdom? I feel curious to know how thoughts--real thoughts +--are born. Not that I hope to win the secret. Here is the beginning of +one (but we poor women can never put together even two of the three ideas +which you say go to form a thought): 'When a wise man makes a false step, +will he not go farther than a fool?' It has just flitted through me. + +"I cannot get on with Gibbon, so wait your return to recommence the +readings. I dislike the sneering essence of his writings. I keep +referring to his face, until the dislike seems to become personal. +How different is it with Wordsworth! And yet I cannot escape from the +thought that he is always solemnly thinking of himself (but I do +reverence him). But this is curious; Byron was a greater egoist, and yet +I do not feel the same with him. He reminds me of a beast of the desert, +savage and beautiful; and the former is what one would imagine a superior +donkey reclaimed from the heathen to be--a very superior donkey, I mean, +with great power of speech and great natural complacency, and whose +stubbornness you must admire as part of his mission. The worst is that +no one will imagine anything sublime in a superior donkey, so my simile +is unfair and false. Is it not strange? I love Wordsworth best, and yet +Byron has the greater power over me. How is that?" + +("Because," Sir Austin wrote beside the query in pencil, "women are +cowards, and succumb to Irony and Passion, rather than yield their hearts +to Excellence and Nature's Inspiration.") + +The letter pursued: + +"I have finished Boiardo and have taken up Berni. The latter offends me. +I suppose we women do not really care for humour. You are right in +saying we have none ourselves, and 'cackle' instead of laugh. It is true +(of me, at least) that 'Falstaff is only to us an incorrigible fat man.' +I want to know what he illustrates. And Don Quixote--what end can be +served in making a noble mind ridiculous?--I hear you say--practical. So +it is. We are very narrow, I know. But we like wit--practical again! +Or in your words (when I really think they generally come to my aid-- +perhaps it is that it is often all your thought); we 'prefer the rapier +thrust, to the broad embrace, of Intelligence.'" + +He trifled with the letter for some time, re-reading chosen passages as +he walked about the room, and considering he scarce knew what. There are +ideas language is too gross for, and shape too arbitrary, which come to +us and have a definite influence upon us, and yet we cannot fasten on the +filmy things and make them visible and distinct to ourselves, much less +to others. Why did he twice throw a look into the glass in the act of +passing it? He stood for a moment with head erect facing it. His eyes +for the nonce seemed little to peruse his outer features; the grey +gathered brows, and the wrinkles much action of them had traced over the +circles half up his high straight forehead; the iron-grey hair that rose +over his forehead and fell away in the fashion of Richard's plume. His +general appearance showed the tints of years; but none of their weight, +and nothing of the dignity of his youth, was gone. It was so far +satisfactory, but his eyes were wide, as one who looks at his essential +self through the mask we wear. + +Perhaps he was speculating as he looked on the sort of aspect he +presented to the lady's discriminative regard. Of her feelings he had +not a suspicion. But he knew with what extraordinary lucidity women can, +when it pleases them, and when their feelings are not quite boiling under +the noonday sun, seize all the sides of a character, and put their +fingers on its weak point. He was cognizant of the total absence of the +humorous in himself (the want that most shut him out from his fellows), +and perhaps the clear-thoughted, intensely self-examining gentleman +filmily conceived, Me also, in common with the poet, she gazes on as one +of the superior--grey beasts! + +He may have so conceived the case; he was capable of that great- +mindedness, and could snatch at times very luminous glances at the broad +reflector which the world of fact lying outside our narrow compass holds +up for us to see ourselves in when we will. Unhappily, the faculty of +laughter, which is due to this gift, was denied him; and having seen, he, +like the companion of friend Balsam, could go no farther. For a good +wind of laughter had relieved him of much of the blight of self- +deception, and oddness, and extravagance; had given a healthier view of +our atmosphere of life; but he had it not. + +Journeying back to Bellingham in the train, with the heated brain and +brilliant eye of his son beside him, Sir Austin tried hard to feel +infallible, as a man with a System should feel; and because he could not +do so, after much mental conflict, he descended to entertain a personal +antagonism to the young woman who had stepped in between his experiment +and success. He did not think kindly of her. Lady Blandish's encomiums +of her behaviour and her beauty annoyed him. Forgetful that he had in a +measure forfeited his rights to it, he took the common ground of fathers, +and demanded, "Why he was not justified in doing all that lay in his +power to prevent his son from casting himself away upon the first +creature with a pretty face he encountered?" Deliberating thus, he lost +the tenderness he should have had for his experiment--the living, burning +youth at his elbow, and his excessive love for him took a rigorous tone. +It appeared to him politic, reasonable, and just, that the uncle of this +young woman, who had so long nursed the prudent scheme of marrying her to +his son, should not only not be thwarted in his object but encouraged and +even assisted. At least, not thwarted. Sir Austin had no glass before +him while these ideas hardened in his mind, and he had rather forgotten +the letter of Lady Blandish. + +Father and son were alone in the railway carriage. Both were too +preoccupied to speak. As they neared Bellingham the dark was filling the +hollows of the country. Over the pine-hills beyond the station a last +rosy streak lingered across a green sky. Richard eyed it while they flew +along. It caught him forward: it seemed full of the spirit of his love, +and brought tears of mournful longing to his eyelids. The sad beauty of +that one spot in the heavens seemed to call out to his soul to swear to +his Lucy's truth to him: was like the sorrowful visage of his fleur-de- +luce as he called her, appealing to him for faith. That tremulous tender +way she had of half-closing and catching light on the nether-lids, when +sometimes she looked up in her lover's face--as look so mystic-sweet that +it had grown to be the fountain of his dreams: he saw it yonder, and his +blood thrilled. + +Know you those wand-like touches of I know not what, before which our +grosser being melts; and we, much as we hope to be in the Awaking, stand +etherealized, trembling with new joy? They come but rarely; rarely even +in love, when we fondly think them revelations. Mere sensations they +are, doubtless: and we rank for them no higher in the spiritual scale +than so many translucent glorious polypi that quiver on the shores, the +hues of heaven running through them. Yet in the harvest of our days it +is something for the animal to have had such mere fleshly polypian +experiences to look back upon, and they give him an horizon--pale seas of +luring splendour. One who has had them (when they do not bound him) may +find the Isles of Bliss sooner than another. Sensual faith in the upper +glories is something. "Let us remember," says The Pilgrim's Scrip, "that +Nature, though heathenish, reaches at her best to the footstool of the +Highest. She is not all dust, but a living portion of the spheres. In +aspiration it is our error to despise her, forgetting that through Nature +only can we ascend. Cherished, trained, and purified, she is then partly +worthy the divine mate who is to make her wholly so. St. Simeon saw the +Hog in Nature, and took Nature for the Hog." + +It was one of these strange bodily exaltations which thrilled the young +man, he knew not how it was, for sadness and his forebodings vanished. +The soft wand touched him. At that moment, had Sir Austin spoken openly, +Richard might have fallen upon his heart. He could not. + +He chose to feel injured on the common ground of fathers, and to pursue +his System by plotting. Lady Blandish had revived his jealousy of the +creature who menaced it, and jealousy of a System is unreflecting and +vindictive as jealousy of woman. + +Heath-roots and pines breathed sharp in the cool autumn evening about the +Bellingham station. Richard stood a moment as he stepped from the train, +and drew the country air into his lungs with large heaves of the chest. +Leaving his father to the felicitations of the station-master, he went +into the Lobourne road to look for his faithful Tom, who had received +private orders through Berry to be in attendance with his young master's +mare, Cassandra, and was lurking in a plantation of firs unenclosed on +the borders of the road, where Richard, knowing his retainer's zest for +conspiracy too well to seek him anywhere but in the part most favoured +with shelter and concealment, found him furtively whiffing tobacco. + +"What news, Tom? Is there an illness?" + +Tom sent his undress cap on one side to scratch at dilemma, an old +agricultural habit to which he was still a slave in moments of abstract +thought or sudden difficulty. + +"No, I don't want the rake, Mr. Richard," he whinnied with a false grin, +as he beheld his master's eye vacantly following the action. + +"Speak out!" he was commanded. "I haven't had a letter for a week!" + +Richard learnt the news. He took it with surprising outward calm, only +getting a little closer to Cassandra's neck, and looking very hard at Tom +without seeing a speck of him, which had the effect on Tom of making him +sincerely wish his master would punch his head at once rather than fix +him in that owl-like way. + +"Go on!" said Richard, huskily. "Yes? She's gone! Well?" + +Tom was brought to understand he must make the most of trifles, and +recited how he had heard from a female domestic at Belthorpe of the name +of Davenport, formerly known to him, that the young lady never slept a +wink from the hour she knew she was going, but sat up in her bed till +morning crying most pitifully, though she never complained. Hereat the +tears unconsciously streamed down Richard's cheeks. Tom said he had +tried to see her, but Mr. Adrian kept him at work, ciphering at a +terrible sum--that and nothing else all day! saying, it was to please his +young master on his return. "Likewise something in Lat'n," added Tom. +"Nom'tive Mouser!--'nough to make ye mad, sir!" he exclaimed with pathos. +The wretch had been put to acquire a Latin declension. + +Tom saw her on the morning she went away, he said: she was very +sorrowful-looking, and nodded kindly to him as she passed in the fly +along with young Tom Blaize. "She have got uncommon kind eyes, sir," +said Tom, "and cryin' don't spoil them." For which his hand was +wrenched. + +Tom had no more to tell, save that, in rounding the road, the young lady +had hung out her hand, and seemed to move it forward and back, as much as +to sap, Good-bye, Tom! "And though she couldn't see me," said Tom, "I +took off my hat. I did take it so kind of her to think of a chap like +me." He was at high-pressure sentiment--what with his education for a +hero and his master's love-stricken state. + +"You saw no more of her, Tom?" + +"No, sir. That was the last!" + +"That was the last you saw of her, Tom?" + +"Well, sir, I saw nothin' more." + +"And so she went out of sight!" + +"Clean gone, that she were, sir." + +"Why did they take her away? what have they done with her? where have +they taken her to?" + +These red-hot questionings were addressed to the universal heaven rather +than to Tom. + +"Why didn't she write?" they were resumed. "Why did she leave? She's +mine. She belongs to me! Who dared take her away? Why did she leave +without writing?--Tom!" + +"Yes, sir," said the well-drilled recruit, dressing himself up to the +word of command. He expected a variation of the theme from the change of +tone with which his name had been pronounced, but it was again, "Where +have they taken her to?" and this was even more perplexing to Tom than +his hard sum in arithmetic had been. He could only draw down the corners +of his mouth hard, and glance up queerly. + +"She had been crying--you saw that, Tom?" + +"No mistake about that, Mr. Richard. Cryin' all night and all day, I +sh'd say." + +"And she was crying when you saw her?" + +"She look'd as if she'd just done for a moment, sir." + +"But her face was white?" + +"White as a sheet." + +Richard paused to discover whether his instinct had caught a new view +from these facts. He was in a cage, always knocking against the same +bars, fly as he might. Her tears were the stars in his black night. He +clung to them as golden orbs. Inexplicable as they were, they were at +least pledges of love. + +The hues of sunset had left the West. No light was there but the +steadfast pale eye of twilight. Thither he was drawn. He mounted +Cassandra, saying: "Tell them something, Tom. I shan't be home to +dinner," and rode off toward the forsaken home of light over Belthorpe, +whereat he saw the wan hand of his Lucy, waving farewell, receding as he +advanced. His jewel was stolen,--he must gaze upon the empty box. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +Night had come on as Richard entered the old elm-shaded, grass-bordered +lane leading down from Raynham to Belthorpe. The pale eye of twilight +was shut. The wind had tossed up the bank of Western cloud, which was +now flying broad and unlighted across the sky, broad and balmy--the +charioted South-west at full charge behind his panting coursers. As he +neared the farm his heart fluttered and leapt up. He was sure she must +be there. She must have returned. Why should she have left for good +without writing? He caught suspicion by the throat, making it voiceless, +if it lived: he silenced reason. Her not writing was now a proof that +she had returned. He listened to nothing but his imperious passion, and +murmured sweet words for her, as if she were by: tender cherishing +epithet's of love in the nest. She was there--she moved somewhere about +like a silver flame in the dear old house, doing her sweet household +duties. His blood began to sing: O happy those within, to see her, and +be about her! By some extraordinary process he contrived to cast a sort +of glory round the burly person of Farmer Blaize himself. And oh! to +have companionship with a seraph one must know a seraph's bliss, and was +not young Tom to be envied? The smell of late clematis brought on the +wind enwrapped him, and went to his brain, and threw a light over the old +red-brick house, for he remembered where it grew, and the winter rose- +tree, and the jessamine, and the passion-flower: the garden in front with +the standard roses tended by her hands; the long wall to the left striped +by the branches of the cherry, the peep of a further garden through the +wall, and then the orchard, and the fields beyond--the happy circle of +her dwelling! it flashed before his eyes while he looked on the darkness. +And yet it was the reverse of hope which kindled this light and inspired +the momentary calm he experienced: it was despair exaggerating delusion, +wilfully building up on a groundless basis. "For the tenacity of true +passion is terrible," says The Pilgrim's Scrip: "it will stand against +the hosts of heaven, God's great array of Facts, rather than surrender +its aim, and must be crushed before it will succumb--sent to the lowest +pit!" He knew she was not there; she was gone. But the power of a will +strained to madness fought at it, kept it down, conjured forth her ghost, +and would have it as he dictated. Poor youth! the great array of facts +was in due order of march. + +He had breathed her name many times, and once over-loud; almost a cry for +her escaped him. He had not noticed the opening of a door and the noise +of a foot along the gravel walk. He was leaning over Cassandra's uneasy +neck watching the one window intently, when a voice addressed him out of +the darkness. + +"Be that you, young gentleman?--Mr. Fev'rel?" + +Richard's trance was broken. "Mr. Blaize!" he said; recognizing the +farmer's voice. + +"Good even'n t' you, sir," returned the farmer. "I knew the mare though +I didn't know you. Rather bluff to-night it be. Will ye step in, Mr. +Fev'rel? it's beginning' to spit,--going to be a wildish night, I +reckon." + +Richard dismounted. The farmer called one of his men to hold the mare, +and ushered the young man in. Once there, Richard's conjurations ceased. +There was a deadness about the rooms and passages that told of her +absence. The walls he touched--these were the vacant shells of her. He +had never been in the house since he knew her, and now what strange +sweetness, and what pangs! + +Young Tom Blaize was in the parlour, squared over the table in open- +mouthed examination of an ancient book of the fashions for a summer month +which had elapsed during his mother's minority. Young Tom was +respectfully studying the aspects of the radiant beauties of the polite +work. He also was a thrall of woman, newly enrolled, and full of wonder. + +"What, Tom!" the farmer sang out as soon as he had opened the door; +"there ye be! at yer Folly agin, are ye? What good'll them fashens do to +you, I'd like t'know? Come, shut up, and go and see to Mr. Fev'rel's +mare. He's al'ays at that ther' Folly now. I say there never were a +better name for a book than that ther' Folly! Talk about attitudes!" + +The farmer laughed his fat sides into a chair, and motioned his visitor +to do likewise. + +"It's a comfort they're most on 'em females," he pursued, sounding a +thwack on his knee as he settled himself agreeably in his seat. "It +don't matter much what they does, except pinchin' in--waspin' it at the +waist. Give me nature, I say--woman as she's made! eh, young gentleman?" + +"You seem very lonely here," said Richard, glancing round, and at the +ceiling. + +"Lonely?" quoth the farmer. "Well, for the matter o' that, we be!--jest +now, so't happens; I've got my pipe, and Tom've got his Folly. He's on +one side the table, and I'm on t'other. He gapes, and I gazes. We are a +bit lonesome. But there--it's for the best!" + +Richard resumed, "I hardly expected to see you to-night, Mr. Blaize." + +"Y'acted like a man in coming, young gentleman, and I does ye honour for +it!" said Farmer Blaize with sudden energy and directness. + +The thing implied by the farmer's words caused Richard to take a quick +breath. They looked at each other, and looked away, the farmer thrumming +on the arm of his chair. + +Above the mantel-piece, surrounded by tarnished indifferent miniatures of +high-collared, well-to-do yeomen of the anterior generation, trying their +best not to grin, and high-waisted old ladies smiling an encouraging +smile through plentiful cap-puckers, there hung a passably executed half- +figure of a naval officer in uniform, grasping a telescope under his left +arm, who stood forth clearly as not of their kith and kin. His eyes were +blue, his hair light, his bearing that of a man who knows how to carry +his head and shoulders. The artist, while giving him an epaulette to +indicate his rank, had also recorded the juvenility which a lieutenant in +the naval service can retain after arriving at that position, by painting +him with smooth cheeks and fresh ruddy lips. To this portrait Richard's +eyes were directed. Farmer Blaize observed it, and said-- + +"Her father, sir!" + +Richard moderated his voice to praise the likeness. + +"Yes," said the farmer, "pretty well. Next best to havin' her, though +it's a long way off that!" + +"An old family, Mr. Blaize--is it not?" Richard asked in as careless a +tone as he could assume. + +"Gentlefolks--what's left of 'em," replied the farmer with an equally +affected indifference. + +"And that's her father?" said Richard, growing bolder to speak of her. + +"That's her father, young gentleman!" + +"Mr. Blaize," Richard turned to face him, and burst out, "where is she?" + +"Gone, sir! packed off!--Can't have her here now." The farmer thrummed a +step brisker, and eyed the young man's wild face resolutely. + +"Mr. Blaize," Richard leaned forward to get closer to him. He was +stunned, and hardly aware of what he was saying or doing: "Where has she +gone? Why did she leave?" + +"You needn't to ask, sir--ye know," said the farmer, with a side shot of +his head. + +"But she did not--it was not her wish to go?" + +"No! I think she likes the place. Mayhap she likes't too well!" + +"Why did you send her away to make her unhappy, Mr. Blaize?" + +The farmer bluntly denied it was he was the party who made her unhappy. +"Nobody can't accuse me. Tell ye what, sir. I wunt have the busybodies +set to work about her, and there's all the matter. So let you and I come +to an understandin'." + +A blind inclination to take offence made Richard sit upright. He forgot +it the next minute, and said humbly: "Am I the cause of her going?" + +"Well!" returned the farmer, "to speak straight--ye be!" + +"What can I do, Mr. Blaize, that she may come back again" the young +hypocrite asked. + +"Now," said the farmer, "you're coming to business. Glad to hear ye talk +in that sensible way, Mr. Feverel. You may guess I wants her bad enough. +The house ain't itself now she's away, and I ain't myself. Well, sir! +This ye can do. If you gives me your promise not to meddle with her at +all--I can't mak' out how you come to be acquainted; not to try to get +her to be meetin' you--and if you'd 'a seen her when she left, you would +--when did ye meet?--last grass, wasn't it?--your word as a gentleman not +to be writing letters, and spyin' after her--I'll have her back at once. +Back she shall come!" + +"Give her up!" cried Richard. + +"Ay, that's it!" said the farmer. "Give her up." + +The young man checked the annihilation of time that was on his mouth. + +"You sent her away to protect her from me, then?" he said savagely. + +"That's not quite it, but that'll do," rejoined the farmer. + +"Do you think I shall harm her, sir?" + +"People seem to think she'll harm you, young gentleman," the farmer said +with some irony. + +"Harm me--she? What people?" + +"People pretty intimate with you, sir." + +"What people? Who spoke of us?" Richard began to scent a plot, and +would not be balked. + +"Well, sir, look here," said the farmer. "It ain't no secret, and if it +be, I don't see why I'm to keep it. It appears your education's +peculiar!" The farmer drawled out the word as if he were describing the +figure of a snake. "You ain't to be as other young gentlemen. All the +better! You're a fine bold young gentleman, and your father's a right to +be proud of ye. Well, sir--I'm sure I thank him for't he comes to hear +of you and Luce, and of course he don't want nothin' o' that--more do I. +I meets him there! What's more I won't have nothin' of it. She be my +gal. She were left to my protection. And she's a lady, sir. Let me tell +ye, ye won't find many on 'em so well looked to as she be--my Luce! +Well, Mr. Fev'rel, it's you, or it's her--one of ye must be out o' the +way. So we're told. And Luce--I do believe she's just as anxious about +yer education as yer father she says she'll go, and wouldn't write, and'd +break it off for the sake o' your education. And she've kep' her word, +haven't she?--She's a true'n. What she says she'll do!--True blue she +be, my Luce! So now, sir, you do the same, and I'll thank ye." + +Any one who has tossed a sheet of paper into the fire, and seen it +gradually brown with heat, and strike to flame, may conceive the mind of +the lover as he listened to this speech. + +His anger did not evaporate in words, but condensed and sank deep. "Mr. +Blaize," he said, "this is very kind of the people you allude to, but I +am of an age now to think and act for myself--I love her, sir!" His +whole countenance changed, and the muscles of his face quivered. + +"Well!" said the farmer, appeasingly, "we all do at your age--somebody or +other. It's natural!" + +"I love her!" the young man thundered afresh, too much possessed by his +passion to have a sense of shame in the confession. "Farmer!" his voice +fell to supplication, "will you bring her back?" + +Farmer Blaize made a queer face. He asked--what for? and where was the +promise required?--But was not the lover's argument conclusive? He said +he loved her! and he could not see why her uncle should not in +consequence immediately send for her, that they might be together. All +very well, quoth the farmer, but what's to come of it?--What was to come +of it? Why, love, and more love! And a bit too much! the farmer added +grimly. + +"Then you refuse me, farmer," said Richard. "I must look to you for +keeping her away from me, not to--to--these people. You will not have +her back, though I tell you I love her better than my life?" + +Farmer Blaize now had to answer him plainly, he had a reason and an +objection of his own. And it was, that her character was at stake, and +God knew whether she herself might not be in danger. He spoke with a +kindly candour, not without dignity. He complimented Richard personally, +but young people were young people; baronets' sons were not in the habit +of marrying farmers' nieces. + +At first the son of a System did not comprehend him. When he did, he +said: "Farmer! if I give you my word of honour, as I hope for heaven, to +marry her when I am of age, will you have her back?" + +He was so fervid that, to quiet him, the farmer only shook his head +doubtfully at the bars of the grate, and let his chest fall slowly. +Richard caught what seemed to him a glimpse of encouragement in these +signs, and observed: "It's not because you object to me, Mr. Blaize?" + +The farmer signified it was not that. + +"It's because my father is against me," Richard went on, and undertook to +show that love was so sacred a matter that no father could entirely and +for ever resist his son's inclinations. Argument being a cool field +where the farmer could meet and match him, the young man got on the +tramroad of his passion, and went ahead. He drew pictures of Lucy, of +her truth, and his own. He took leaps from life to death, from death to +life, mixing imprecations and prayers in a torrent. Perhaps he did move +the stolid old Englishman a little, he was so vehement, and made so +visible a sacrifice of his pride. + +Farmer Blaize tried to pacify him, but it was useless. His jewel he must +have. + +The farmer stretched out his hand for the pipe that allayeth botheration. +"May smoke heer now," he said. "Not when--somebody's present. Smoke in +the kitchen then. Don't mind smell?" + +Richard nodded, and watched the operations while the farmer filled, and +lighted, and began to puff, as if his fate hung on them. + +"Who'd a' thought, when you sat over there once, of its comin' to this?" +ejaculated the farmer, drawing ease and reflection from tobacco. "You +didn't think much of her that day, young gentleman! I introduced ye. +Well! things comes about. Can't you wait till she returns in due course, +now?" + +This suggestion, the work of the pipe, did but bring on him another +torrent. + +"It's queer," said the farmer, putting the mouth of the pipe to his +wrinkled-up temples. + +Richard waited for him, and then he laid down the pipe altogether, as no +aid in perplexity, and said, after leaning his arm on the table and +staring at Richard an instant: + +"Look, young gentleman! My word's gone. I've spoke it. I've given 'em +the 'surance she shan't be back till the Spring, and then I'll have her, +and then--well! I do hope, for more reasons than one, ye'll both be +wiser--I've got my own notions about her. But I an't the man to force a +gal to marry 'gainst her inclines. Depend upon it I'm not your enemy, +Mr. Fev'rel. You're jest the one to mak' a young gal proud. So wait,-- +and see. That's my 'dvice. Jest tak' and wait. I've no more to say." + +Richard's impetuosity had made him really afraid of speaking his notions +concerning the projected felicity of young Tom, if indeed they were +serious. + +The farmer repeated that he had no more to say; and Richard, with "Wait +till the Spring! Wait till the Spring!" dinning despair in his ears, +stood up to depart. Farmer Blaize shook his slack hand in a friendly +way, and called out at the door for young Tom, who, dreading allusions to +his Folly, did not appear. A maid rushed by Richard in the passage, and +slipped something into his grasp, which fixed on it without further +consciousness than that of touch. The mare was led forth by the Bantam. +A light rain was falling down strong warm gusts, and the trees were noisy +in the night. Farmer Blaize requested Richard at the gate to give him +his hand, and say all was well. He liked the young man for his +earnestness and honest outspeaking. Richard could not say all was well, +but he gave his hand, and knitted it to the farmer's in a sharp squeeze, +when he got upon Cassandra, and rode into the tumult. + +A calm, clear dawn succeeded the roaring West, and threw its glowing grey +image on the waters of the Abbey-lake. Before sunrise Tom Bakewell was +abroad, and met the missing youth, his master, jogging Cassandra +leisurely along the Lobourne park-road, a sorry couple to look at. +Cassandra's flanks were caked with mud, her head drooped: all that was in +her had been taken out by that wild night. On what heaths and heavy +fallows had she not spent her noble strength, recklessly fretting through +the darkness! + +"Take the mare," said Richard, dismounting and patting her between the +eyes. "She's done up, poor old gal! Look to her, Tom, and then come to +me in my room." + +Tom asked no questions. + +Three days would bring the anniversary of Richard's birth, and though Tom +was close, the condition of the mare, and the young gentleman's strange +freak in riding her out all night becoming known, prepared everybody at +Raynham for the usual bad-luck birthday, the prophets of which were full +of sad gratification. Sir Austin had an unpleasant office to require of +his son; no other than that of humbly begging Benson's pardon, and +washing out the undue blood he had spilt in taking his Pound of Flesh. +Heavy Benson was told to anticipate the demand for pardon, and practised +in his mind the most melancholy Christian deportment he could assume on +the occasion. But while his son was in this state, Sir Austin considered +that he would hardly be brought to see the virtues of the act, and did +not make the requisition of him, and heavy Benson remained drawn up +solemnly expectant at doorways, and at the foot of the staircase, a +Saurian Caryatid, wherever he could get a step in advance of the young +man, while Richard heedlessly passed him, as he passed everybody else, +his head bent to the ground, and his legs bearing him like random +instruments of whose service he was unconscious. It was a shock to +Benson's implicit belief in his patron; and he was not consoled by the +philosophic explanation, "That Good in a strong many-compounded nature is +of slower growth than any other mortal thing, and must not be forced." +Damnatory doctrines best pleased Benson. He was ready to pardon, as a +Christian should, but he did want his enemy before him on his knees. And +now, though the Saurian Eye saw more than all the other eyes in the +house, and saw that there was matter in hand between Tom and his master +to breed exceeding discomposure to the System, Benson, as he had not +received his indemnity, and did not wish to encounter fresh perils for +nothing, held his peace. + +Sir Austin partly divined what was going on in the breast of his son, +without conceiving the depths of distrust his son cherished or quite +measuring the intensity of the passion that consumed him. He was very +kind and tender with him. Like a cunning physician who has, +nevertheless, overlooked the change in the disease superinduced by one +false dose, he meditated his prescriptions carefully and confidently, +sure that he knew the case, and was a match for it. He decreed that +Richard's erratic behaviour should pass unnoticed. Two days before the +birthday, he asked him whether he would object to having company? To +which Richard said: "Have whom you will, sir." The preparation for +festivity commenced accordingly. + +On the birthday eve he dined with the rest. Lady Blandish was there, and +sat penitently at his right. Hippias prognosticated certain indigestion +for himself on the morrow. The Eighteenth Century wondered whether she +should live to see another birthday. Adrian drank the two-years' distant +term of his tutorship, and Algernon went over the list of the Lobourne +men who would cope with Bursley on the morrow. Sir Austin gave ear and a +word to all, keeping his mental eye for his son. To please Lady Blandish +also, Adrian ventured to make trifling jokes about London's Mrs. +Grandison; jokes delicately not decent, but so delicately so, that it was +not decent to perceive it. + +After dinner Richard left them. Nothing more than commonly peculiar was +observed about him, beyond the excessive glitter of his eyes, but the +baronet said, "Yes, yes! that will pass." He and Adrian, and Lady +Blandish, took tea in the library, and sat till a late hour discussing +casuistries relating mostly to the Apple-disease. Converse very amusing +to the wise youth, who could suggest to the two chaste minds situations +of the shadiest character, with the air of a seeker after truth, and lead +them, unsuspecting, where they dared not look about them. The Aphorist +had elated the heart of his constant fair worshipper with a newly rounded +if not newly conceived sentence, when they became aware that they were +four. Heavy Benson stood among them. He said he had knocked, but +received no answer. There was, however, a vestige of surprise and +dissatisfaction on his face beholding Adrian of the company, which had +not quite worn away, and gave place, when it did vanish, to an aspect of +flabby severity. + +"Well, Benson? well?" said the baronet. + +The unmoving man replied: "If you please, Sir Austin--Mr. Richard!" + +"Well!" + +"He's out!" + +"Well?" + +"With Bakewell!" + +"Well?" + +"And a carpet-bag!" + +The carpet-bag might be supposed to contain that funny thing called a +young hero's romance in the making. + +Out Richard was, and with a carpet-bag, which Tom Bakewell carried. He +was on the road to Bellingham, under heavy rain, hasting like an escaped +captive, wild with joy, while Tom shook his skin, and grunted at his +discomforts. The mail train was to be caught at Bellingham. He knew +where to find her now, through the intervention of Miss Davenport, and +thither he was flying, an arrow loosed from the bow: thither, in spite of +fathers and friends and plotters, to claim her, and take her, and stand +with her against the world. + +They were both thoroughly wet when they entered Bellingham, and Tom's +visions were of hot drinks. He hinted the necessity for inward +consolation to his master, who could answer nothing but "Tom! Tom! I +shall see her tomorrow!" It was bad--travelling in the wet, Tom hinted +again, to provoke the same insane outcry, and have his arm seized and +furiously shaken into the bargain. Passing the principal inn of the +place, Tom spoke plainly for brandy. + +"No!" cried Richard, "there's not a moment to be lost!" and as he said +it, he reeled, and fell against Tom, muttering indistinctly of faintness, +and that there was no time to lose. Tom lifted him in his arms, and got +admission to the inn. Brandy, the country's specific, was advised by +host and hostess, and forced into his mouth, reviving him sufficiently to +cry out, "Tom! the bell's ringing: we shall be late," after which he fell +back insensible on the sofa where they had stretched him. Excitement of +blood and brain had done its work upon him. The youth suffered them to +undress him and put him to bed, and there he lay, forgetful even of love; +a drowned weed borne onward by the tide of the hours. There his father +found him. + +Was the Scientific Humanist remorseful? He had looked forward to such a +crisis as that point in the disease his son was the victim of, when the +body would fail and give the spirit calm to conquer the malady, knowing +very well that the seeds of the evil were not of the spirit. Moreover, +to see him and have him was a repose after the alarm Benson had sounded. +"Mark!" he said to Lady Blandish, "when he recovers he will not care for +her." + +The lady had accompanied him to the Bellingham inn on first hearing of +Richard's seizure. + +"What an iron man you can be," she exclaimed, smothering her intuitions. +She was for giving the boy his bauble; promising it him, at least, if he +would only get well and be the bright flower of promise he once was. + +"Can you look on him," she pleaded, "can you look on him and persevere?" + +It was a hard sight for this man who loved his son so deeply. The youth +lay in his strange bed, straight and motionless, with fever on his +cheeks, and altered eyes. + +Old Dr. Clifford of Lobourne was the medical attendant, who, with head- +shaking, and gathering of lips, and reminiscences of ancient arguments, +guaranteed to do all that leech could do in the matter. The old doctor +did admit that Richard's constitution was admirable, and answered to his +prescriptions like a piano to the musician. "But," he said at a family +consultation, for Sir Austin had told him how it stood with the young +man, "drugs are not much in cases of this sort. Change! That's what's +wanted, and as soon as may be. Distraction! He ought to see the world, +and know what he is made of. It's no use my talking, I know," added the +doctor. + +"On the contrary," said Sir Austin, "I am quite of your persuasion. And +the world he shall see--now." + +"We have dipped him in Styx, you know, doctor," Adrian remarked. + +"But, doctor," said Lady Blandish, "have you known a case of this sort +before." + +"Never, my lady," said the doctor, "they're not common in these parts. +Country people are tolerably healthy-minded." + +"But people--and country people--have died for love, doctor?" + +The doctor had not met any of them. + +"Men, or women?" inquired the baronet. + +Lady Blandish believed mostly women. + +"Ask the doctor whether they were healthy-minded women," said the +baronet. "No! you are both looking at the wrong end. Between a highly- +cultured being, and an emotionless animal, there is all the difference in +the world. But of the two, the doctor is nearer the truth. The healthy +nature is pretty safe. If he allowed for organization he would be right +altogether. To feel, but not to feel to excess, that is the problem." + + "If I can't have the one I chose, + To some fresh maid I will propose," + +Adrian hummed a country ballad. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +When the young Experiment again knew the hours that rolled him onward, he +was in his own room at Raynham. Nothing had changed: only a strong fist +had knocked him down and stunned him, and he opened his eyes to a grey +world: he had forgotten what he lived for. He was weak and thin, and +with a pale memory of things. His functions were the same, everything +surrounding him was the same: he looked upon the old blue hills, the far- +lying fallows, the river, and the woods: he knew them, they seemed to +have lost recollection of him. Nor could he find in familiar human faces +the secret of intimacy of heretofore. They were the same faces: they +nodded and smiled to him. What was lost he could not tell. Something +had been knocked out of him! He was sensible of his father's sweetness +of manner, and he was grieved that he could not reply to it, for every +sense of shame and reproach had strangely gone. He felt very useless. +In place of the fiery love for one, he now bore about a cold charity to +all. + +Thus in the heart of the young man died the Spring Primrose, and while it +died another heart was pushing forth the Primrose of Autumn. + +The wonderful change in Richard, and the wisdom of her admirer, now +positively proved, were exciting matters to Lady Blandish. She was +rebuked for certain little rebellious fancies concerning him that had +come across her enslaved mind from time to time. For was he not almost a +prophet? It distressed the sentimental lady that a love like Richard's +could pass off in mere smoke, and words such as she had heard him speak +in Abbey-wood resolve to emptiness. Nay, it humiliated her personally, +and the baronet's shrewd prognostication humiliated her. For how should +he know, and dare to say, that love was a thing of the dust that could be +trodden out under the heel of science? But he had said so; and he had +proved himself right. She heard with wonderment that Richard of his own +accord had spoken to his father of the folly he had been guilty of, and +had begged his pardon. The baronet told her this, adding that the youth +had done it in a cold unwavering way, without a movement of his features: +had evidently done it to throw off the burden of the duty, he had +conceived. He had thought himself bound to acknowledge that he had been +the Foolish Young Fellow, wishing, possibly, to abjure the fact by an set +of penance. He had also given satisfaction to Benson, and was become a +renovated peaceful spirit, whose main object appeared to be to get up his +physical strength by exercise and no expenditure of speech. + +In her company he was composed and courteous; even when they were alone +together, he did not exhibit a trace of melancholy. Sober he seemed, as +one who has recovered from a drunkenness and has determined to drink no +more. The idea struck her that he might be playing a part, but Tom +Bakewell, in a private conversation they had, informed her that he had +received an order from his young master, one day while boxing with him, +not to mention the young lady's name to him as long as he lived; and Tom +could only suppose that she had offended him. Theoretically wise Lady +Blandish had always thought the baronet; she was unprepared to find him +thus practically sagacious. She fell many degrees; she wanted something +to cling to; so she clung to the man who struck her low. Love, then, was +earthly; its depth could be probed by science! A man lived who could +measure it from end to end; foretell its term; handle the young cherub as +were he a shot owl! We who have flown into cousinship with the empyrean, +and disported among immortal hosts, our base birth as a child of Time is +made bare to us!--our wings are cut! Oh, then, if science is this +victorious enemy of love, let us love science! was the logic of the +lady's heart; and secretly cherishing the assurance that she should +confute him yet, and prove him utterly wrong, she gave him the fruits of +present success, as it is a habit of women to do; involuntarily partly. +The fires took hold of her. She felt soft emotions such as a girl feels, +and they flattered her. It was like youth coming back. Pure women have +a second youth. The Autumn primrose flourished. + +We are advised by The Pilgrim's Scrip that-- + +"The ways of women, which are Involution, and their practices, which are +Opposition, are generally best hit upon by guess work, and a bold word;" +--it being impossible to track them and hunt them down in the ordinary +style. + +So that we may not ourselves become involved and opposed, let us each of +us venture a guess and say a bold word as to how it came that the lady, +who trusted love to be eternal, grovelled to him that shattered her +tender faith, and loved him. + +Hitherto it had been simply a sentimental dalliance, and gossips had +maligned the lady. Just when the gossips grew tired of their slander, +and inclined to look upon her charitably, she set about to deserve every +word they had said of her; which may instruct us, if you please, that +gossips have only to persist in lying to be crowned with verity, or that +one has only to endure evil mouths for a period to gain impunity. She +was always at the Abbey now. She was much closeted with the baronet. It +seemed to be understood that she had taken Mrs. Doria's place. Benson in +his misogynic soul perceived that she was taking Lady Feverel's: but any +report circulated by Benson was sure to meet discredit, and drew the +gossips upon himself; which made his meditations tragic. No sooner was +one woman defeated than another took the field! The object of the System +was no sooner safe than its great author was in danger! + +"I can't think what has come to Benson" he said to Adrian. + +"He seems to have received a fresh legacy of several pounds of lead," +returned the wise youth, and imitating Dr. Clifford's manner. "Change is +what he wants! distraction! send him to Wales for a month, sir, and let +Richard go with him. The two victims of woman may do each other good." + +"Unfortunately I can't do without him," said the baronet. + +"Then we must continue to have him on our shoulders all day, and on our +chests all night!" Adrian ejaculated. + +"I think while he preserves this aspect we won't have him at the dinner- +table," said the baronet. + +Adrian thought that would be a relief to their digestions; and added: +"You know, sir, what he says?" + +Receiving a negative, Adrian delicately explained to him that Benson's +excessive ponderosity of demeanour was caused by anxiety for the safety +of his master. + +"You must pardon a faithful fool, sir," he continued, for the baronet +became red, and exclaimed: + +"His stupidity is past belief! I have absolutely to bolt my study-door +against him." + +Adrian at once beheld a charming scene in the interior of the study, not +unlike one that Benson had visually witnessed. For, like a wary prophet, +Benson, that he might have warrant for what he foretold of the future, +had a care to spy upon the present: warned haply by The Pilgrim's Scrip, +of which he was a diligent reader, and which says, rather emphatically: +"Could we see Time's full face, we were wise of him." Now to see Time's +full face, it is sometimes necessary to look through keyholes, the +veteran having a trick of smiling peace to you on one cheek and grimacing +confusion on the other behind the curtain. Decency and a sense of honour +restrain most of us from being thus wise and miserable for ever. +Benson's excuse was that he believed in his master, who was menaced. And +moreover, notwithstanding his previous tribulation, to spy upon Cupid was +sweet to him. So he peeped, and he saw a sight. He saw Time's full +face; or, in other words, he saw the wiles of woman and the weakness of +man: which is our history, as Benson would have written it, and a great +many poets and philosophers have written it. + +Yet it was but the plucking of the Autumn primrose that Benson had seen: +a somewhat different operation from the plucking of the Spring one: very +innocent! Our staid elderly sister has paler blood, and has, or thinks +she has, a reason or two about the roots. She is not all instinct. "For +this high cause, and for that I know men, and know him to be the flower +of men, I give myself to him!" She makes that lofty inward exclamation +while the hand is detaching her from the roots. Even so strong a self- +justification she requires. She has not that blind glory in excess which +her younger sister can gild the longest leap with. And if, moth-like, +she desires the star, she is nervously cautious of candles. Hence her +circles about the dangerous human flame are wide and shy. She must be +drawn nearer and nearer by a fresh reason. She loves to sentimentalize. +Lady Blandish had been sentimentalizing for ten years. She would have +preferred to pursue the game. The dark-eyed dame was pleased with her +smooth life and the soft excitement that did not ruffle it. Not +willingly did she let herself be won. + +"Sentimentalists," says The Pilgrim's Scrip, "are they who seek to enjoy +without incurring the Immense Debtorship for a thing done." + +"It is," the writer says of Sentimentalism elsewhere, "a happy pastime +and an important science to the timid, the idle, and the heartless; but a +damning one to them who have anything to forfeit." + +However, one who could set down the dying for love, as a sentimentalism, +can hardly be accepted as a clear authority. Assuredly he was not one to +avoid the incurring of the immense debtorship in any way: but he was a +bondsman still to the woman who had forsaken him, and a spoken word would +have made it seem his duty to face that public scandal which was the last +evil to him. What had so horrified the virtuous Benson, Richard had +already beheld in Daphne's Bower; a simple kissing of the fair white +hand! Doubtless the keyhole somehow added to Benson's horror. The two +similar performances, so very innocent, had wondrous opposite +consequences. The first kindled Richard to adore Woman; the second +destroyed Benson's faith in Man. But Lady Blandish knew the difference +between the two. She understood why the baronet did not speak; excused, +and respected him for it. She was content, since she must love, to love +humbly, and she had, besides, her pity for his sorrows to comfort her. A +hundred fresh reasons for loving him arose and multiplied every day. He +read to her the secret book in his own handwriting, composed for +Richard's Marriage Guide: containing Advice and Directions to a Young +Husband, full of the most tender wisdom and delicacy; so she thought; +nay, not wanting in poetry, though neither rhymed nor measured. He +expounded to her the distinctive character of the divers ages of love, +giving the palm to the flower she put forth, over that of Spring, or the +Summer rose. And while they sat and talked; "My wound has healed," he +said. "How?" she asked. "At the fountain of your eyes," he replied, and +drew the joy of new life from her blushes, without incurring further +debtor ship for a thing done. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +Let it be some apology for the damage caused by the careering hero, and a +consolation to the quiet wretches, dragged along with him at his chariot- +wheels, that he is generally the last to know when he has made an actual +start; such a mere creature is he, like the rest of us, albeit the head +of our fates. By this you perceive the true hero, whether he be a prince +or a pot-boy, that he does not plot; Fortune does all for him. He may be +compared to one to whom, in an electric circle, it is given to carry the +battery. + +We caper and grimace at his will; yet not his the will, not his the +power. 'Tis all Fortune's, whose puppet he is. She deals her +dispensations through him. Yea, though our capers be never so comical, +he laughs not. Intent upon his own business, the true hero asks little +services of us here and there; thinks it quite natural that they should +be acceded to, and sees nothing ridiculous in the lamentable contortions +we must go through to fulfil them. Probably he is the elect of Fortune, +because of that notable faculty of being intent upon his own business: +"Which is," says The Pilgrim's Scrip, "with men to be valued equal to +that force which in water makes a stream." This prelude was necessary to +the present chapter of Richard's history. + +It happened that in the turn of the year, and while old earth was busy +with her flowers, the fresh wind blew, the little bird sang, and Hippias +Feverel, the Dyspepsy, amazed, felt the Spring move within him. He +communicated his delightful new sensations to the baronet, his brother, +whose constant exclamation with regard to him, was: "Poor Hippias! All +his machinery is bare!" and had no hope that he would ever be in a +condition to defend it from view. Nevertheless Hippias had that hope, +and so he told his brother, making great exposure of his machinery to +effect the explanation. He spoke of all his physical experiences +exultingly, and with wonder. The achievement of common efforts, not +usually blazoned, he celebrated as triumphs, and, of course, had Adrian +on his back very quickly. But he could bear him, or anything, now. It +was such ineffable relief to find himself looking out upon the world of +mortals instead of into the black phantasmal abysses of his own +complicated frightful structure. "My mind doesn't so much seem to haunt +itself, now," said Hippias, nodding shortly and peering out of intense +puckers to convey a glimpse of what hellish sufferings his had been: "I +feel as if I had come aboveground." + +A poor Dyspepsy may talk as he will, but he is the one who never gets +sympathy, or experiences compassion: and it is he whose groaning +petitions for charity do at last rout that Christian virtue. Lady +Blandish, a charitable soul, could not listen to Hippias, though she had +a heart for little mice and flies, and Sir Austin had also small patience +with his brother's gleam of health, which was just enough to make his +disease visible. He remembered his early follies and excesses, and bent +his ear to him as one man does to another who complains of having to pay +a debt legally incurred. + +"I think," said Adrian, seeing how the communications of Hippias were +received, "that when our Nemesis takes lodgings in the stomach, it's best +to act the Spartan, smile hard, and be silent." + +Richard alone was decently kind to Hippias; whether from opposition, or +real affection, could not be said, as the young man was mysterious. He +advised his uncle to take exercise, walked with him, cultivated cheerful +impressions in him, and pointed out innocent pursuits. He made Hippias +visit with him some of the poor old folk of the village, who bewailed the +loss of his cousin Austin Wentworth, and did his best to waken him up, +and give the outer world a stronger hold on him. He succeeded in nothing +but in winning his uncle's gratitude. The season bloomed scarce longer +than a week for Hippias, and then began to languish. The poor Dyspepsy's +eager grasp at beatification relaxed: he went underground again. He +announced that he felt "spongy things"--one of the more constant throes +of his malady. His bitter face recurred: he chewed the cud of horrid +hallucinations. He told Richard he must give up going about with him: +people telling of their ailments made him so uncomfortable--the birds +were so noisy, pairing--the rude bare soil sickened him. + +Richard treated him with a gravity equal to his father's. He asked what +the doctors said. + +"Oh! the doctors!" cried Hippias with vehement scepticism. "No man of +sense believes in medicine for chronic disorder. Do you happen to have +heard of any new remedy then, Richard? No? They advertise a great many +cures for indigestion, I assure you, my dear boy. I wonder whether one +can rely upon the authenticity of those signatures? I see no reason why +there should be no cure for such a disease?--Eh? And it's just one of +the things a quack, as they call them, would hit upon sooner than one who +is in the beaten track. Do you know, Richard, my dear boy, I've often +thought that if we could by any means appropriate to our use some of the +extraordinary digestive power that a boa constrictor has in his gastric +juices, there is really no manner of reason why we should not comfortably +dispose of as much of an ox as our stomachs will hold, and one might eat +French dishes without the wretchedness of thinking what's to follow. And +this makes me think that those fellows may, after all, have got some +truth in them: some secret that, of course, they require to be paid for. +We distrust each other in this world too much, Richard. I've felt +inclined once or twice--but it's absurd!--If it only alleviated a few of +my sufferings I should be satisfied. I've no hesitation in saying that I +should be quite satisfied if it only did away with one or two, and left +me free to eat and drink as other people do. Not that I mean to try +them. It's only a fancy--Eh? What a thing health is, my dear boy! Ah! +if I were like you! I was in love once!" + +"Were you!" said Richard, coolly regarding him. + +"I've forgotten what I felt!" Hippias sighed. "You've very much +improved, my dear boy." + +"So people say," quoth Richard. + +Hippias looked at him anxiously: "If I go to town and get the doctor's +opinion about trying a new course--Eh, Richard? will you come with me? I +should like your company. We could see London together, you know. Enjoy +ourselves," and Hippias rubbed his hands. + +Richard smiled at the feeble glimmer of enjoyment promised by his uncle's +eyes, and said he thought it better they should stay where they were--an +answer that might mean anything. Hippias immediately became possessed by +the beguiling project. He went to the baronet, and put the matter before +him, instancing doctors as the object of his journey, not quacks, of +course; and requesting leave to take Richard. Sir Austin was getting +uneasy about his son's manner. It was not natural. His heart seemed to +be frozen: he had no confidences: he appeared to have no ambition--to +have lost the virtues of youth with the poison that had passed out of +him. He was disposed to try what effect a little travelling might have +on him, and had himself once or twice hinted to Richard that it would be +good for him to move about, the young man quietly replying that he did +not wish to quit Raynham at all, which was too strict a fulfilment of his +father's original views in educating him there entirely. On the day that +Hippias made his proposal, Adrian, seconded by Lady Blandish, also made +one. The sweet Spring season stirred in Adrian as well as in others: not +to pastoral measures: to the joys of the operatic world and bravura +glories. He also suggested that it would be advisable to carry Richard +to town for a term, and let him know his position, and some freedom. Sir +Austin weighed the two proposals. He was pretty certain that Richard's +passion was consumed, and that the youth was now only under the burden of +its ashes. He had found against his heart, at the Bellingham inn: a +great lock of golden hair. He had taken it, and the lover, after feeling +about for it with faint hands, never asked for it. This precious lock +(Miss Davenport had thrust it into his hand at Belthorpe as Lucy's last +gift), what sighs and tears it had weathered! The baronet laid it in +Richard's sight one day, and beheld him take it up, turn it over, and +drop it down again calmly, as if he were handling any common curiosity. +It pacified him on that score. The young man's love was dead. Dr. +Clifford said rightly: he wanted distractions. The baronet determined +that Richard should go. Hippias and Adrian then pressed their several +suits as to which should have him. Hippias, when he could forget +himself, did not lack sense. He observed that Adrian was not at present +a proper companion for Richard, and would teach him to look on life from +the false point. + +"You don't understand a young philosopher," said the baronet. + +"A young philosopher's an old fool!" returned Hippias, not thinking that +his growl had begotten a phrase. + +His brother smiled with gratification, and applauded him loudly: +"Excellent! worthy of your best days! You're wrong, though, in applying +it to Adrian. He has never been precocious. All he has done has been to +bring sound common sense to bear upon what he hears and sees. I think, +however," the baronet added, "he may want faith in the better qualities +of men." And this reflection inclined him not to let his son be alone +with Adrian. He gave Richard his choice, who saw which way his father's +wishes tended, and decided so to please him. Naturally it annoyed Adrian +extremely. He said to his chief: + +"I suppose you know what you are doing, sir. I don't see that we derive +any advantage from the family name being made notorious for twenty years +of obscene suffering, and becoming a byword for our constitutional +tendency to stomachic distension before we fortunately encountered +Quackem's Pill. My uncle's tortures have been huge, but I would rather +society were not intimate with them under their several headings." +Adrian enumerated some of the most abhorrent. "You know him, sir. If he +conceives a duty, he will do it in the face of every decency--all the +more obstinate because the conception is rare. If he feels a little +brisk the morning after the pill, he sends the letter that makes us +famous! We go down to posterity with heightened characteristics, to say +nothing of a contemporary celebrity nothing less than our being turned +inside-out to the rabble. I confess I don't desire to have my machinery +made bare to them." + +Sir Austin assured the wise youth that Hippias had arranged to go to Dr. +Bairam. He softened Adrian's chagrin by telling him that in about two +weeks they would follow to London: hinting also at a prospective Summer +campaign. The day was fixed for Richard to depart, and the day came. +Madame the Eighteenth Century called him to her chamber and put into his +hand a fifty-pound note, as her contribution toward his pocket-expenses. +He did not want it, he said, but she told him he was a young man, and +would soon make that fly when he stood on his own feet. The old lady did +not at all approve of the System in her heart, and she gave her +grandnephew to understand that, should he require more, he knew where to +apply, and secrets would be kept. His father presented him with a +hundred pounds--which also Richard said he did not want--he did not care +for money. "Spend it or not," said the baronet, perfectly secure in him. + +Hippias had few injunctions to observe. They were to take up quarters at +the hotel, Algernon's general run of company at the house not being +altogether wholesome. The baronet particularly forewarned Hippias of the +imprudence of attempting to restrict the young man's movements, and +letting him imagine he was under surveillance. Richard having been, as +it were, pollarded by despotism, was now to grow up straight, and bloom +again, in complete independence, as far as he could feel. So did the +sage decree; and we may pause a moment to reflect how wise were his +previsions, and how successful they must have been, had not Fortune, the +great foe to human cleverness, turned against him, or he against himself. + +The departure took place on a fine March morning. The bird of Winter +sang from the budding tree; in the blue sky sang the bird of Summer. +Adrian rode between Richard and Hippias to the Bellingham station, and +vented his disgust on them after his own humorous fashion, because it did +not rain and damp their ardour. In the rear came Lady Blandish and the +baronet, conversing on the calm summit of success. + +"You have shaped him exactly to resemble yourself," she said, pointing +with her riding-whip to the grave stately figure of the young man. + +"Outwardly, perhaps," he answered, and led to a discussion on Purity and +Strength, the lady saying that she preferred Purity. + +"But you do not," said the baronet. "And there I admire the always true +instinct of women, that they all worship Strength in whatever form, and +seem to know it to be the child of heaven; whereas Purity is but a +characteristic, a garment, and can be spotted--how soon! For there are +questions in this life with which we must grapple or be lost, and when, +hunted by that cold eye of intense inner-consciousness, the clearest soul +becomes a cunning fox, if it have not courage to stand and do battle. +Strength indicates a boundless nature--like the Maker. Strength is a God +to you--Purity a toy. A pretty one, and you seem to be fond of playing +with it," he added, with unaccustomed slyness. + +The lady listened, pleased at the sportive malice which showed that the +constraint on his mind had left him. It was for women to fight their +fight now; she only took part in it for amusement. This is how the ranks +of our enemies are thinned; no sooner do poor women put up a champion in +their midst than she betrays them. + +"I see," she said archly, "we are the lovelier vessels; you claim the +more direct descent. Men are seedlings: Women--slips! Nay, you have +said so," she cried out at his gestured protestation, laughing. + +"But I never printed it." + +"Oh! what you speak answers for print with me." + +Exquisite Blandish! He could not choose but love her. + +"Tell me what are your plans?" she asked. "May a woman know?" + +He replied, "I have none or you would share them. I shall study him in +the world. This indifference must wear off. I shall mark his +inclinations now, and he shall be what he inclines to. Occupation will +be his prime safety. His cousin Austin's plan of life appears most to +his taste, and he can serve the people that way as well as in Parliament, +should he have no stronger ambition. The clear duty of a man of any +wealth is to serve the people as he best can. He shall go among Austin's +set, if he wishes it, though personally I find no pleasure in rash +imaginations, and undigested schemes built upon the mere instinct of +principles." + +"Look at him now," said the lady. "He seems to care for nothing; not +even for the beauty of the day." + +"Or Adrian's jokes," added the baronet. + +Adrian could be seen to be trying zealously to torment a laugh, or a +confession of irritation, out of his hearers, stretching out his chin to +one, and to the other, with audible asides. Richard he treated as a new +instrument of destruction about to be let loose on the slumbering +metropolis; Hippias as one in an interesting condition; and he got so +much fun out of the notion of these two journeying together, and the +mishaps that might occur to them, that he esteemed it almost a personal +insult for his hearers not to laugh. The wise youth's dull life at +Raynham had afflicted him with many peculiarities of the professional +joker. + +"Oh! the Spring! the Spring!" he cried, as in scorn of his sallies they +exchanged their unmeaning remarks on the sweet weather across him. "You +seem both to be uncommonly excited by the operations of turtles, rooks, +and daws. Why can't you let them alone?" + + 'Wind bloweth, + Cock croweth, + Doodle-doo; + Hippy verteth, + Ricky sterteth, + Sing Cuckoo!' + +There's an old native pastoral!--Why don't you write a Spring sonnet, +Ricky? The asparagus-beds are full of promise, I hear, and eke the +strawberry. Berries I fancy your Pegasus has a taste for. What kind of +berry was that I saw some verses of yours about once?--amatory verses to +some kind of berry--yewberry, blueberry, glueberry! Pretty verses, +decidedly warm. Lips, eyes, bosom, legs--legs? I don't think you gave +her any legs. No legs and no nose. That appears to be the poetic taste +of the day. It shall be admitted that you create the very beauties for a +chaste people. + + 'O might I lie where leans her lute!' + +and offend no moral community. That's not a bad image of yours, my dear +boy: + + 'Her shape is like an antelope + Upon the Eastern hills.' + +But as a candid critic, I would ask you if the likeness can be considered +correct when you give her no legs? You will see at the ballet that you +are in error about women at present, Richard. That admirable institution +which our venerable elders have imported from Gallia for the instruction +of our gaping youth, will edify and astonish you. I assure you I used, +from reading The Pilgrim's Scrip, to imagine all sorts of things about +them, till I was taken there, and learnt that they are very like us after +all, and then they ceased to trouble me. Mystery is the great danger to +youth, my son! Mystery is woman's redoubtable weapon, O Richard of the +Ordeal! I'm aware that you've had your lessons in anatomy, but nothing +will persuade you that an anatomical figure means flesh and blood. You +can't realize the fact. Do you intend to publish when you're in town? +It'll be better not to put your name. Having one's name to a volume of +poems is as bad as to an advertising pill." + +"I will send you an early copy, Adrian, when I publish," quoth Richard. +"Hark at that old blackbird, uncle." + +"Yes!" Hippias quavered; looking up from the usual subject of his +contemplation, and trying to take an interest in him, "fine old fellow!" + +"What a chuckle he gives out before he flies! Not unlike July +nightingales. You know that bird I told you of--the blackbird that had +its mate shot, and used to come to sing to old Dame Bakewell's bird from +the tree opposite. A rascal knocked it over the day before yesterday, +and the dame says her bird hasn't sung a note since." + +"Extraordinary!" Hippias muttered abstractedly. "I remember the verses." + +"But where's your moral?" interposed the wrathful Adrian. "Where's +constancy rewarded? + + 'The ouzel-cock so black of hue, + With orange-tawny bill; + The rascal with his aim so true; + The Poet's little quill!' + +"Where's the moral of that? except that all's game to the poet! +Certainly we have a noble example of the devotedness of the female, who +for three entire days refuses to make herself heard, on account of a +defunct male. I suppose that's what Ricky dwells on." + +"As you please, my dear Adrian," says Richard, and points out larch-buds +to his uncle, as they ride by the young green wood. + +The wise youth was driven to extremity. Such a lapse from his pupil's +heroics to this last verge of Arcadian coolness, Adrian could not believe +in. "Hark at this old blackbird!" he cried, in his turn, and pretending +to interpret his fits of song: + +"Oh, what a pretty comedy!--Don't we wear the mask well, my Fiesco?-- +Genoa will be our own to-morrow!--Only wait until the train has started-- +jolly! jolly! jolly! We'll be winners yet! + +"Not a bad verse--eh, Ricky? my Lucius Junius!" + +"You do the blackbird well," said Richard, and looked at him in a manner +mildly affable. + +Adrian shrugged. "You're a young man of wonderful powers," he +emphatically observed; meaning to say that Richard quite beat him; for +which opinion Richard gravely thanked him, and with this they rode into +Bellingham. + +There was young Tom Blaize at the station, in his Sunday beaver and gala +waistcoat and neckcloth, coming the lord over Tom Bakewell, who had +preceded his master in charge of the baggage. He likewise was bound for +London. Richard, as he was dismounting, heard Adrian say to the baronet: +"The Beast, sir, appears to be going to fetch Beauty;" but he paid no +heed to the words. Whether young Tom heard them or not, Adrian's look +took the lord out of him, and he shrunk away into obscurity, where the +nearest approach to the fashions which the tailors of Bellingham could +supply to him, sat upon him more easily, and he was not stiffened by the +eyes of the superiors whom he sought to rival. The baronet, Lady +Blandish, and Adrian remained on horseback, and received Richard's adieux +across the palings. He shook hands with each of them in the same kindly +cold way, elicitating from Adrian a marked encomium on his style of doing +it. The train came up, and Richard stepped after his uncle into one of +the carriages. + +Now surely there will come an age when the presentation of science at war +with Fortune and the Fates, will be deemed the true epic of modern life; +and the aspect of a scientific humanist who, by dint of incessant +watchfulness, has maintained a System against those active forties, +cannot be reckoned less than sublime, even though at the moment he but +sit upon his horse, on a fine March morning such as this, and smile +wistfully to behold the son of his heart, his System incarnate, wave a +serene adieu to tutelage, neither too eager nor morbidly unwilling to try +his luck alone for a term of two weeks. At present, I am aware, an +audience impatient for blood and glory scorns the stress I am putting on +incidents so minute, a picture so little imposing. An audience will come +to whom it will be given to see the elementary machinery at work: who, as +it were, from some slight hint of the straws, will feel the winds of +March when they do not blow. To them will nothing be trivial, seeing +that they will have in their eyes the invisible conflict going on around +us, whose features a nod, a smile, a laugh of ours perpetually changes. +And they will perceive, moreover, that in real life all hangs together: +the train is laid in the lifting of an eyebrow, that bursts upon the +field of thousands. They will see the links of things as they pass, and +wonder not, as foolish people now do, that this great matter came out of +that small one. + +Such an audience, then, will participate in the baronet's gratification +at his son's demeanour, wherein he noted the calm bearing of experience +not gained in the usual wanton way: and will not be without some excited +apprehension at his twinge of astonishment, when, just as the train went +sliding into swiftness, he beheld the grave, cold, self-possessed young +man throw himself back in the carriage violently laughing. Science was +at a loss to account for that. Sir Austin checked his mind from +inquiring, that he might keep suspicion at a distance, but he thought it +odd, and the jarring sensation that ran along his nerves at the sight, +remained with him as he rode home. + +Lady Blandish's tender womanly intuition bade her say: "You see it was +the very thing he wanted. He has got his natural spirits already." + +"It was," Adrian put in his word, "the exact thing he wanted. His +spirits have returned miraculously." + +"Something amused him," said the baronet, with an eye on the puffing +train. + +"Probably something his uncle said or did," Lady Blandish suggested, and +led off at a gallop. + +Her conjecture chanced to be quite correct. The cause for Richard's +laughter was simple enough. Hippias, on finding the carriage-door closed +on him, became all at once aware of the bright-haired hope which dwells +in Change; for one who does not woo her too frequently; and to express +his sudden relief from mental despondency at the amorous prospect, the +Dyspepsy bent and gave his hands a sharp rub between his legs: which +unlucky action brought Adrian's pastoral, + + "Hippy verteth, + Sing cuckoo!" + +in such comic colours before Richard, that a demon of laughter seized +him. + + "Hippy verteth!" + +Every time he glanced at his uncle the song sprang up, and he laughed so +immoderately that it looked like madness come upon him. + +"Why, why, why, what are you laughing at, my dear boy," said Hippias, and +was provoked by the contagious exercise to a modest "ha! ha!" + +"Why, what are you laughing at, uncle?" cried Richard. + +"I really don't know," Hippias chuckled. + +"Nor I, uncle! Sing, cuckoo!" + +They laughed themselves into the pleasantest mood imaginable. Hippias +not only came aboveground, he flew about in the very skies, verting like +any blithe creature of the season. He remembered old legal jokes, and +anecdotes of Circuit; and Richard laughed at them all, but more at him-- +he was so genial, and childishly fresh, and innocently joyful at his own +transformation, while a lurking doubt in the bottom of his eyes, now and +then, that it might not last, and that he must go underground again, lent +him a look of pathos and humour which tickled his youthful companion +irresistibly, and made his heart warm to him. + +"I tell you what, uncle," said Richard, "I think travelling's a capital +thing." + +"The best thing in the world, my dear boy," Hippias returned. "It makes +me wish I had given up that Work of mine, and tried it before, instead of +chaining myself to a task. We're quite different beings in a minute. I +am. Hem! what shall we have for dinner?" + +"Leave that to me, uncle. I shall order for you. You know, I intend to +make you well. How gloriously we go along! I should like to ride on a +railway every day." + +Hippias remarked: "They say it rather injures the digestion." + +"Nonsense! see how you'll digest to-night and to-morrow." + +"Perhaps I shall do something yet," sighed Hippias, alluding to the vast +literary fame he had aforetime dreamed of. "I hope I shall have a good +night to-night." + +"Of course you will! What! after laughing like that?" + +"Ugh!" Hippias grunted, "I daresay, Richard, you sleep the moment you get +into bed!" + +"The instant my head's on my pillow, and up the moment I wake. Health's +everything!" + +"Health's everything!" echoed Hippias, from his immense distance. + +"And if you'll put yourself in my hands," Richard continued, "you shall +do just as I do. You shall be well and strong, and sing 'Jolly!' like +Adrian's blackbird. You shall, upon my honour, uncle!" + +He specified the hours of devotion to his uncle's recovery--no less than +twelve a day--that he intended to expend, and his cheery robustness +almost won his uncle to leap up recklessly and clutch health as his own. + +"Mind," quoth Hippias, with a half-seduced smile, "mind your dishes are +not too savoury!" + +"Light food and claret! Regular meals and amusement! Lend your heart to +all, but give it to none!" exclaims young Wisdom, and Hippias mutters, +"Yes! yes!" and intimates that the origin of his malady lay in his not +following that maxim earlier. + +"Love ruins us, my dear boy," he said, thinking to preach Richard a +lesson, and Richard boisterously broke out: + + "The love of Monsieur Francatelli, + It was the ruin of--et coetera." + +Hippias blinked, exclaiming, "Really, my dear boy! I never saw you so +excited." + +"It's the railway! It's the fun, uncle!" + +"Ah!" Hippias wagged a melancholy head, "you've got the Golden Bride! +Keep her if you can. That's a pretty fable of your father's. I gave him +the idea, though. Austin filches a great many of my ideas!" + +"Here's the idea in verse, uncle: + + 'O sunless walkers by the tide! + O have you seen the Golden Bride! + They say that she is fair beyond + All women; faithful, and more fond! + +"You know, the young inquirer comes to a group of penitent sinners by the +brink of a stream. They howl, and answer: + + Faithful she is, but she forsakes: + And fond, yet endless woe she makes: + And fair! but with this curse she's cross'd; + To know her not till she is lost!' + +"Then the doleful party march off in single file solemnly, and the +fabulist pursues: + + 'She hath a palace in the West: + Bright Hesper lights her to her rest: + And him the Morning Star awakes + Whom to her charmed arms she takes. + + So lives he till he sees, alas! + The maids of baser metal pass.' + +"And prodigal of the happiness she lends him, he asks to share it with one +of them. There is the Silver Maid, and the Copper, and the Brassy Maid, +and others of them. First, you know, he tries Argentine, and finds her +only twenty to the pound, and has a worse experience with Copperina, till +he descends to the scullery; and the lower he goes, the less obscure +become the features of his Bride of Gold, and all her radiance shines +forth, my uncle." + +"Verse rather blunts the point. Well, keep to her, now you've got her," +says Hippias. + +"We will, uncle!--Look how the farms fly past! Look at the cattle in the +fields! And how the lines duck, and swim up! + + 'She claims the whole, and not the part-- + The coin of an unused heart! + To gain his Golden Bride again, + He hunts with melancholy men,' + +--and is waked no longer by the Morning Star!" + +"Not if he doesn't sleep till an hour before it rises!" Hippias +interjected. "You don't rhyme badly. But stick to prose. Poetry's a +Base-metal maid. I'm not sure that any writing's good for the digestion. +I'm afraid it has spoilt mine." + +"Fear nothing, uncle!" laughed Richard. "You shall ride in the park with +me every day to get an appetite. You and I and the Golden Bride. You +know that little poem of Sandoe's? + + 'She rides in the park on a prancing bay, + She and her squires together; + Her dark locks gleam from a bonnet of grey, + And toss with the tossing feather. + + 'Too calmly proud for a glance of pride + Is the beautiful face as it passes; + The cockneys nod to each other aside, + The coxcombs lift their glasses. + + 'And throng to her, sigh to her, you that can breach + The ice-wall that guards her securely; + You have not such bliss, though she smile on you each, + As the heart that can image her purely.' + +"Wasn't Sandoe once a friend of my father's? I suppose they quarrelled. +He understands the heart. What does he make his 'Humble Lover' say? + + 'True, Madam, you may think to part + Conditions by a glacier-ridge, + But Beauty's for the largest heart, + And all abysses Love can bridge! + +"Hippias now laughed; grimly, as men laugh at the emptiness of words." + +"Largest heart!" he sneered. "What's a 'glacier-ridge'? I've never seen +one. I can't deny it rhymes with 'bridge.' But don't go parading your +admiration of that person, Richard. Your father will speak to you on the +subject when he thinks fit." + +"I thought they had quarrelled," said Richard. "What a pity!" and he +murmured to a pleased ear: + + "Beauty's for the largest heart!" + +The flow of their conversation was interrupted by the entrance of +passengers at a station. Richard examined their faces with pleasure. +All faces pleased him. Human nature sat tributary at the feet of him and +his Golden Bride. As he could not well talk his thoughts before them, he +looked out at the windows, and enjoyed the changing landscape, projecting +all sorts of delights for his old friend Ripton, and musing hazily on the +wondrous things he was to do in the world; of the great service he was to +be to his fellow-creatures. In the midst of his reveries he was landed +in London. Tom Bakewell stood at the carriage door. A glance told +Richard that his squire had something curious on his mind; and he gave +Tom the word to speak out. Tom edged his master out of hearing, and +began sputtering a laugh. + +"Dash'd if I can help it, sir!" he said. "That young Tom! He've come to +town dressed that spicy! and he don't know his way about no more than a +stag. He's come to fetch somebody from another rail, and he don't know +how to get there, and he ain't sure about which rail 'tis. Look at him, +Mr. Richard! There he goes." + +Young Tom appeared to have the weight of all London on his beaver. + +"Who has he come for?" Richard asked. + +"Don't you know, sir? You don't like me to mention the name," mumbled +Tom, bursting to be perfectly intelligible. + +"Is it for her, Tom?" + +"Miss Lucy, sir." + +Richard turned away, and was seized by Hippias, who begged him to get out +of the noise and pother, and caught hold of his slack arm to bear him +into a conveyance; but Richard, by wheeling half to the right, or left, +always got his face round to the point where young Tom was manoeuvring to +appear at his ease. Even when they were seated in the conveyance, +Hippias could not persuade him to drive off. He made the excuse that he +did not wish to start till there was a clear road. At last young Tom +cast anchor by a policeman, and, doubtless at the official's suggestion, +bashfully took seat in a cab, and was shot into the whirlpool of London. +Richard then angrily asked his driver what he was waiting for. + +"Are you ill, my boy?" said Hippias. "Where's your colour?" + +He laughed oddly, and made a random answer that he hoped the fellow would +drive fast. + +"I hate slow motion after being in the railway," he said. + +Hippias assured him there was something the matter with him. + +"Nothing, uncle! nothing!" said Richard, looking fiercely candid. + +They say, that when the skill and care of men rescue a drowned wretch +from extinction, and warm the flickering spirit into steady flame, such +pain it is, the blood forcing its way along the dry channels, and the +heavily-ticking nerves, and the sullen heart--the struggle of life and +death in him--grim death relaxing his gripe; such pain it is, he cries +out no thanks to them that pull him by inches from the depths of the dead +river. And he who has thought a love extinct, and is surprised by the +old fires, and the old tyranny, he rebels, and strives to fight clear of +the cloud of forgotten sensations that settle on him; such pain it is, +the old sweet music reviving through his frame, and the charm of his +passion filing him afresh. Still was fair Lucy the one woman to Richard. +He had forbidden her name but from an instinct of self-defence. Must the +maids of baser metal dominate him anew, it is in Lucy's shape. Thinking +of her now so near him--his darling! all her graces, her sweetness, her +truth; for, despite his bitter blame of her, he knew her true--swam in a +thousand visions before his eyes; visions pathetic, and full of glory, +that now wrung his heart, and now elated it. As well might a ship +attempt to calm the sea, as this young man the violent emotion that began +to rage in his breast. "I shall not see her!" he said to himself +exultingly, and at the same instant thought, how black was every corner +of the earth but that one spot where Lucy stood! how utterly cheerless +the place he was going to! Then he determined to bear it; to live in +darkness; there was a refuge in the idea of a voluntary martyrdom. "For +if I chose I could see her--this day within an hour!--I could see her, +and touch her hand, and, oh, heaven!--But I do not choose." And a great +wave swelled through him, and was crushed down only to swell again more +stormily. + +Then Tom Bakewell's words recurred to him that young Tom Blaize was +uncertain where to go for her, and that she might be thrown on this +Babylon alone. And flying from point to point, it struck him that they +had known at Raynham of her return, and had sent him to town to be out of +the way--they had been miserably plotting against him once more. "They +shall see what right they have to fear me. I'll shame them!" was the +first turn taken by his wrathful feelings, as he resolved to go, and see +her safe, and calmly return to his uncle, whom he sincerely believed not +to be one of the conspirators. Nevertheless, after forming that resolve, +he sat still, as if there were something fatal in the wheels that bore +him away from it--perhaps because he knew, as some do when passion is +lord, that his intelligence juggled with him; though none the less keenly +did he feel his wrongs and suspicions. His Golden Bride was waning fast. +But when Hippias ejaculated to cheer him: "We shall soon be there!" the +spell broke. Richard stopped the cab, saying he wanted to speak to Tom, +and would ride with him the rest of the journey. He knew well enough +which line of railway his Lucy must come by. He had studied every town +and station on the line. Before his uncle could express more than a mute +remonstrance, he jumped out and hailed Tom Bakewell, who came behind with +the boxes and baggage in a companion cab, his head a yard beyond the +window to make sure of his ark of safety, the vehicle preceding. + +"What an extraordinary, impetuous boy it is," said Hippias. "We're in +the very street!" + +Within a minute the stalwart Berry, despatched by the baronet to arrange +everything for their comfort, had opened the door, and made his bow. + +"Mr. Richard, sir?--evaporated?" was Berry's modulated inquiry. + +"Behind--among the boxes, fool!" Hippias growled, as he received Berry's +muscular assistance to alight. "Lunch ready--eh!" + +"Luncheon was ordered precise at two o'clock, sir--been in attendance one +quarter of an hour. Heah!" Berry sang out to the second cab, which, with +its pyramid of luggage, remained stationary some thirty paces distant. +At his voice the majestic pile deliberately turned its back on them, and +went off in a contrary direction. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +On the stroke of the hour when Ripton Thompson was accustomed to consult +his gold watch for practical purposes, and sniff freedom and the +forthcoming dinner, a burglarious foot entered the clerk's office where +he sat, and a man of a scowling countenance, who looked a villain, and +whom he was afraid he knew, slid a letter into his hands, nodding that it +would be prudent for him to read, and be silent. Ripton obeyed in alarm. +Apparently the contents of the letter relieved his conscience; for he +reached down his hat, and told Mr. Beazley to inform his father that he +had business of pressing importance in the West, and should meet him at +the station. Mr. Beazley zealously waited upon the paternal Thompson +without delay, and together making their observations from the window, +they beheld a cab of many boxes, into which Ripton darted and was +followed by one in groom's dress. It was Saturday, the day when Ripton +gave up his law-readings, magnanimously to bestow himself upon his +family, and Mr. Thompson liked to have his son's arm as he walked down to +the station; but that third glass of Port which always stood for his +second, and the groom's suggestion of aristocratic acquaintances, +prevented Mr. Thompson from interfering: so Ripton was permitted to +depart. + +In the cab Ripton made a study of the letter he held. It had the +preciseness of an imperial mandate. + +Dear Ripton,--You are to get lodgings for a lady immediately. Not a word +to a soul. Then come along with Tom. R.D.F." + +"Lodgings for a lady!" Ripton meditated aloud: "What sort of lodgings? +Where am I to get lodgings? Who's the lady?--I say!" he addressed the +mysterious messenger. "So you're Tom Bakewell, are you, Tom?" + +Tom grinned his identity. + +"Do you remember the rick, Tom? Ha! ha! We got out of that neatly. We +might all have been transported, though. I could have convicted you, +Tom, safe! It's no use coming across a practised lawyer. Now tell me." +Ripton having flourished his powers, commenced his examination: "Who's +this lady?" + +"Better wait till you see Mr. Richard, sir," Tom resumed his scowl to +reply. + +"Ah!" Ripton acquiesced. "Is she young, Tom?" + +Tom said she was not old. + +"Handsome, Tom?" + +"Some might think one thing, some another," Tom said. + +"And where does she come from now?" asked Ripton, with the friendly +cheerfulness of a baffled counsellor. + +"Comes from the country, sir." + +"A friend of the family, I suppose? a relation?" + +Ripton left this insinuating query to be answered by a look. Tom's face +was a dead blank. + +"Ah!" Ripton took a breath, and eyed the mask opposite him. "Why, you're +quite a scholar, Tom! Mr. Richard is well. All right at home?" + +"Come to town this mornin' with his uncle," said Tom. "All well, thank +ye, sir." + +"Ha!" cried Ripton, more than ever puzzled, "now I see. You all came to +town to-day, and these are your boxes outside. So, so! But Mr. Richard +writes for me to get lodgings for a lady. There must be some mistake--he +wrote in a hurry. He wants lodgings for you all--eh?" + +"'M sure I d'n know what he wants," said Tom. "You'd better go by the +letter, sir." + +Ripton re-consulted that document. "'Lodgings for a lady, and then come +along with Tom. Not a word to a soul.' I say! that looks like--but he +never cared for them. You don't mean to say, Tom, he's been running away +with anybody?" + +Tom fell back upon his first reply: "Better wait till ye see Mr. Richard, +sir," and Ripton exclaimed: "Hanged if you ain't the tightest witness I +ever saw! I shouldn't like to have you in a box. Some of you country +fellows beat any number of cockneys. You do!" + +Tom received the compliment stubbornly on his guard, and Ripton, as +nothing was to be got out of him, set about considering how to perform +his friend's injunctions; deciding firstly, that a lady fresh from the +country ought to lodge near the parks, in which direction he told the +cabman to drive. Thus, unaware of his high destiny, Ripton joined the +hero, and accepted his character in the New Comedy. + +It is, nevertheless, true that certain favoured people do have beneficent +omens to prepare them for their parts when the hero is in full career, so +that they really may be nerved to meet him; ay, and to check him in his +course, had they that signal courage. For instance, Mrs. Elizabeth +Berry, a ripe and wholesome landlady of advertised lodgings, on the +borders of Kensington, noted, as she sat rocking her contemplative person +before the parlour fire this very March afternoon, a supernatural +tendency in that fire to burn all on one side: which signifies that a +wedding approaches the house. Why--who shall say? Omens are as +impassable as heroes. It may be because in these affairs the fire is +thought to be all on one side. Enough that the omen exists, and spoke +its solemn warning to the devout woman. Mrs. Berry, in her circle, was +known as a certificated lecturer against the snares of matrimony. Still +that was no reason why she should not like a wedding. Expectant, +therefore, she watched the one glowing cheek of Hymen, and with pleasing +tremours beheld a cab of many boxes draw up by her bit of garden, and a +gentleman emerge from it in the set of consulting an advertisement paper. +The gentleman required lodgings for a lady. Lodgings for a lady Mrs. +Berry could produce, and a very roseate smile for a gentleman; so much so +that Ripton forgot to ask about the terms, which made the landlady in +Mrs. Berry leap up to embrace him as the happy man. But her experienced +woman's eye checked her enthusiasm. He had not the air of a bridegroom: +he did not seem to have a weight on his chest, or an itch to twiddle +everything with his fingers. At any rate, he was not the bridegroom for +whom omens fly abroad. Promising to have all ready for the lady within +an hour, Mrs. Berry fortified him with her card, curtsied him back to his +cab, and floated him off on her smiles. + +The remarkable vehicle which had woven this thread of intrigue through +London streets, now proceeded sedately to finish its operations. Ripton +was landed at a hotel in Westminster. Ere he was halfway up the stairs, +a door opened, and his old comrade in adventure rushed down. Richard +allowed no time for salutations. "Have you done it?" was all he asked. +For answer Ripton handed him Mrs. Berry's card. Richard took it, and +left him standing there. Five minutes elapsed, and then Ripton heard the +gracious rustle of feminine garments above. Richard came a little in +advance, leading and half-supporting a figure in a black-silk mantle and +small black straw bonnet; young--that was certain, though she held her +veil so close he could hardly catch the outlines of her face; girlishly +slender, and sweet and simple in appearance. The hush that came with +her, and her soft manner of moving, stirred the silly youth to some of +those ardours that awaken the Knight of Dames in our bosoms. He felt +that he would have given considerable sums for her to lift her veil. He +could see that she was trembling--perhaps weeping. It was the master of +her fate she clung to. They passed him without speaking. As she went +by, her head passively bent, Ripton had a glimpse of noble tresses and a +lovely neck; great golden curls hung loosely behind, pouring from under +her bonnet. She looked a captive borne to the sacrifice. What Ripton, +after a sight of those curls, would have given for her just to lift her +veil an instant and strike him blind with beauty, was, fortunately for +his exchequer, never demanded of him. And he had absolutely been +composing speeches as he came along in the cab! gallant speeches for the +lady, and sly congratulatory ones for his friend, to be delivered as +occasion should serve, that both might know him a man of the world, and +be at their ease. He forgot the smirking immoralities he had revelled +in. This was clearly serious. Ripton did not require to be told that +his friend was in love, and meant that life and death business called +marriage, parents and guardians consenting or not. + +Presently Richard returned to him, and said hurriedly, "I want you now to +go to my uncle at our hotel. Keep him quiet till I come. Say I had to +see you--say anything. I shall be there by the dinner hour. Rip! I must +talk to you alone after dinner." + +Ripton feebly attempted to reply that he was due at home. He was very +curious to hear the plot of the New Comedy; and besides, there was +Richard's face questioning him sternly and confidently for signs of +unhesitating obedience. He finished his grimaces by asking the name and +direction of the hotel. Richard pressed his hand. It is much to obtain +even that recognition of our devotion from the hero. + +Tom Bakewell also received his priming, and, to judge by his chuckles and +grins, rather appeared to enjoy the work cut out for him. In a few +minutes they had driven to their separate destinations; Ripton was left +to the unusual exercise of his fancy. Such is the nature of youth and +its thirst for romance, that only to act as a subordinate is pleasant. +When one unfurls the standard of defiance to parents and guardians, he +may be sure of raising a lawless troop of adolescent ruffians, born +rebels, to any amount. The beardless crew know that they have not a +chance of pay; but what of that when the rosy prospect of thwarting their +elders is in view? Though it is to see another eat the Forbidden Fruit, +they will run all his risks with him. Gaily Ripton took rank as +lieutenant in the enterprise, and the moment his heart had sworn the +oaths, he was rewarded by an exquisite sense of the charms of existence. +London streets wore a sly laugh to him. He walked with a dandified heel. +The generous youth ogled aristocratic carriages, and glanced intimately +at the ladies, overflowingly happy. The crossing-sweepers blessed him. +He hummed lively tunes, he turned over old jokes in his mouth unctuously, +he hugged himself, he had a mind to dance down Piccadilly, and all +because a friend of his was running away with a pretty girl, and he was +in the secret. + +It was only when he stood on the doorstep of Richard's hotel, that his +jocund mood was a little dashed by remembering that he had then to +commence the duties of his office, and must fabricate a plausible story +to account for what he knew nothing about--a part that the greatest of +sages would find it difficult to perform. The young, however, whom sages +well may envy, seldom fail in lifting their inventive faculties to the +level of their spirits, and two minutes of Hippias's angry complaints +against the friend he serenely inquired for, gave Ripton his cue. + +"We're in the very street--within a stone's-throw of the house, and he +jumps like a harlequin out of my cab into another; he must be mad--that +boy's got madness in him!--and carries off all the boxes--my dinner- +pills, too! and keeps away the whole of the day, though he promised to go +to the doctor, and had a dozen engagements with me," said Hippias, +venting an enraged snarl to sum up his grievances. + +Ripton at once told him that the doctor was not at home. + +"Why, you don't mean to say he's been to the doctor?" Hippias cried out. + +"He has called on him twice, sir," said Ripton, expressively. "On +leaving me he was going a third time. I shouldn't wonder that's what +detains him--he's so determined." + +By fine degrees Ripton ventured to grow circumstantial, saying that +Richard's case was urgent and required immediate medical advice; and that +both he and his father were of opinion Richard should not lose an hour in +obtaining it. + +"He's alarmed about himself," said Ripton, and tapped his chest. + +Hippias protested he had never heard a word from his nephew of any +physical affliction. + +"He was afraid of making you anxious, I think, sir." + +Algernon Feverel and Richard came in while he was hammering at the +alphabet to recollect the first letter of the doctor's name. They had +met in the hall below, and were laughing heartily as they entered the +room. Ripton jumped up to get the initiative. + +"Have you seen the doctor?" he asked, significantly plucking at Richard's +fingers. + +Richard was all abroad at the question. + +Algernon clapped him on the back. "What the deuce do you want with +doctor, boy?" + +The solid thump awakened him to see matters as they were. "Oh, ay! the +doctor!" he said, smiling frankly at his lieutenant." Why, he tells me +he'd back me to do Milo's trick in a week from the present day.--Uncle," +he came forward to Hippias, "I hope you'll excuse me for running off as I +did. I was in a hurry. I left something at the railway. This stupid +Rip thinks I went to the doctor about myself. The fact was, I wanted to +fetch the doctor to see you here--so that you might have no trouble, you +know. You can't bear the sight of his instruments and skeletons--I've +heard you say so. You said it set all your marrow in revolt--'fried your +marrow,' I think were the words, and made you see twenty thousand +different ways of sliding down to the chambers of the Grim King. Don't +you remember?" + +Hippias emphatically did not remember, and he did not believe the story. +Irritation at the mad ravishment of his pill-box rendered him +incredulous. As he had no means of confuting his nephew, all he could do +safely to express his disbelief in him, was to utter petulant remarks on +his powerlessness to appear at the dinner-table that day: upon which-- +Berry just then trumpeting dinner--Algernon seized one arm of the +Dyspepsy, and Richard another, and the laughing couple bore him into +the room where dinner was laid, Ripton sniggering in the rear, the really +happy man of the party. + +They had fun at the dinner-table. Richard would have it; and his gaiety, +his by-play, his princely superiority to truth and heroic promise of +overriding all our laws, his handsome face, the lord and possessor of +beauty that he looked, as it were a star shining on his forehead, gained +the old complete mastery over Ripton, who had been, mentally at least, +half patronizing him till then, because he knew more of London and life, +and was aware that his friend now depended upon him almost entirely. + +After a second circle of the claret, the hero caught his lieutenant's eye +across the table, and said: + +"We must go out and talk over that law-business, Rip, before you go. Do +you think the old lady has any chance?" + +"Not a bit!" said Ripton, authoritatively. + +"But it's worth fighting--eh, Rip?" + +"Oh, certainly!" was Ripton's mature opinion. + +Richard observed that Ripton's father seemed doubtful. Ripton cited his +father's habitual caution. Richard made a playful remark on the +necessity of sometimes acting in opposition to fathers. Ripton agreed to +it--in certain cases. + +"Yes, yes! in certain cases," said Richard. + +"Pretty legal morality, gentlemen!" Algernon interjected; Hippias adding: +"And lay, too!" + +The pair of uncles listened further to the fictitious dialogue, well kept +up on both sides, and in the end desired a statement of the old lady's +garrulous case; Hippias offering to decide what her chances were in law, +and Algernon to give a common-sense judgment. + +"Rip will tell you," said Richard, deferentially signalling the lawyer. +"I'm a bad hand at these matters. Tell them how it stands, Rip." + +Ripton disguised his excessive uneasiness under endeavours to right his +position on his chair, and, inwardly praying speed to the claret jug to +come and strengthen his wits, began with a careless aspect: "Oh, nothing! +She very curious old character! She--a--wears a wig. She--a--very +curious old character indeed! She--a--quite the old style. There's no +doing anything with her!" and Ripton took a long breath to relieve +himself after his elaborate fiction. + +"So it appears," Hippias commented, and Algernon asked: "Well? and about +her wig? Somebody stole it?" while Richard, whose features were grim +with suppressed laughter, bade the narrator continue. + +Ripton lunged for the claret jug. He had got an old lady like an +oppressive bundle on his brain, and he was as helpless as she was. In +the pangs of ineffectual authorship his ideas shot at her wig, and then +at her one characteristic of extreme obstinacy, and tore back again at +her wig, but she would not be animated. The obstinate old thing would +remain a bundle. Law studies seemed light in comparison with this +tremendous task of changing an old lady from a doll to a human creature. +He flung off some claret, perspired freely, and, with a mental tribute to +the cleverness of those author fellows, recommenced: "Oh, nothing! She-- +Richard knows her better than I do--an old lady--somewhere down in +Suffolk. I think we had better advise her not to proceed. The expenses +of litigation are enormous! She--I think we had better advise her to +stop short, and not make any scandal." + +"And not make any scandal!" Algernon took him up. "Come, come! there's +something more than a wig, then?" + +Ripton was commanded to proceed, whether she did or no. The luckless +fictionist looked straight at his pitiless leader, and blurted out +dubiously, "She--there's a daughter." + +"Born with effort!" ejaculated Hippias. "Must give her pause after that! +and I'll take the opportunity to stretch my length on the sofa. Heigho! +that's true what Austin says: 'The general prayer should be for a full +stomach, and the individual for one that works well; for on that basis +only are we a match for temporal matters, and able to contemplate +eternal.' Sententious, but true. I gave him the idea, though! Take +care of your stomachs, boys! and if ever you hear of a monument proposed +to a scientific cook or gastronomic doctor, send in your subscriptions. +Or say to him while he lives, Go forth, and be a Knight! Ha! They have +a good cook at this house. He suits me better than ours at Raynham. I +almost wish I had brought my manuscript to town, I feel so much better. +Aha! I didn't expect to digest at all without my regular incentive. I +think I shall give it up.--What do you say to the theatre to-night, +boys!" + +Richard shouted, "Bravo, uncle!" + +"Let Mr. Thompson finish first," said Algernon. "I want to hear the +conclusion of the story. The old girl has a wig and a daughter. I'll +swear somebody runs away with one of the two! Fill your glass, +Mr. Thompson, and forward!" + +"So somebody does," Ripton received his impetus. "And they're found in +town together," he made a fresh jerk. "She--a--that is, the old lady-- +found them in company." + +"She finds him with her wig on in company!" said Algernon. "Capital! +Here's matter for the lawyers!" + +"And you advise her not to proceed, under such circumstances of +aggravation?" Hippias observed, humorously twinkling with his stomachic +contentment. + +"It's the daughter," Ripton sighed, and surrendering to pressure, hurried +on recklessly, "A runaway match--beautiful girl!--the only son of a +baronet--married by special licence. A--the point is," he now brightened +and spoke from his own element, "the point is whether the marriage can be +annulled, as she's of the Catholic persuasion and he's a Protestant, and +they're both married under age. That's the point." + +Having come to the point he breathed extreme relief, and saw things more +distinctly; not a little amazed at his leader's horrified face. + +The two elders were making various absurd inquiries, when Richard sent +his chair to the floor, crying, "What a muddle you're in, Rip! You're +mixing half-a-dozen stories together. The old lady I told you about was +old Dame Bakewell, and the dispute was concerning a neighbour of hers who +encroached on her garden, and I said I'd pay the money to see her +righted!" + +"Ah," said Ripton, humbly, "I was thinking of the other. Her garden! +Cabbages don't interest me"-- + +"Here, come along," Richard beckoned to him savagely. "I'll be back in +five minutes, uncle," he nodded coolly to either. + +The young men left the room. In the hall-passage they met Berry, dressed +to return to Raynham. Richard dropped a helper to the intelligence into +his hand, and warned him not to gossip much of London. Berry bowed +perfect discreetness. + +"What on earth induced you to talk about Protestants and Catholics +marrying, Rip?" said Richard, as soon as they were in the street. + +"Why," Ripton answered, "I was so hard pushed for it, 'pon my honour, I +didn't know what to say. I ain't an author, you know; I can't make a +story. I was trying to invent a point, and I couldn't think of any +other, and I thought that was just the point likely to make a jolly good +dispute. Capital dinners they give at those crack hotels. Why did you +throw it all upon me? I didn't begin on the old lady." + +The hero mused, "It's odd! It's impossible you could have known! I'll +tell you why, Rip! I wanted to try you. You fib well at long range, but +you don't do at close quarters and single combat. You're good behind +walls, but not worth a shot in the open. I just see what you're fit for. +You're staunch--that I am certain of. You always were. Lead the way to +one of the parks--down in that direction. You know?--where she is!" + +Ripton led the way. His dinner had prepared this young Englishman to +defy the whole artillery of established morals. With the muffled roar of +London around them, alone in a dark slope of green, the hero, leaning on +his henchman, and speaking in a harsh clear undertone, delivered his +explanations. Doubtless the true heroic insignia and point of view will +be discerned, albeit in common private's uniform. + +"They've been plotting against me for a year, Rip! When you see her, +you'll know what it was to have such a creature taken away from you. It +nearly killed me. Never mind what she is. She's the most perfect and +noble creature God ever made! It's not only her beauty--I don't care so +much about that!--but when you've once seen her, she seems to draw music +from all the nerves of your body; but she's such an angel. I worship +her. And her mind's like her face. She's pure gold. There, you'll see +her to-night. + +"Well," he pursued, after inflating Ripton with this rapturous prospect, +"they got her away, and I recovered. It was Mister Adrian's work. +What's my father's objection to her? Because of her birth? She's +educated; her manners are beautiful--full of refinement--quick and soft! +Can they show me one of their ladies like her?--she's the daughter of a +naval lieutenant! Because she's a Catholic? What has religion to do +with"--he pronounced "Love!" a little modestly--as it were a blush in his +voice. + +"Well, when I recovered I thought I did not care for her. It shows how +we know ourselves! And I cared for nothing. I felt as if I had no +blood. I tried to imitate my dear Austin. I wish to God he were here. +I love Austin. He would understand her. He's coming back this year, and +then--but it'll be too late then.--Well, my father's always scheming to +make me perfect--he has never spoken to me a word about her, but I can +see her in his eyes--he wanted to give me a change, he said, and asked me +to come to town with my uncle Hippy, and I consented. It was another +plot to get me out of the way! As I live, I had no more idea of meeting +her than of flying to heaven!" + +He lifted his face. "hook at those old elm branches! How they seem to +mix among the stars!--glittering fruits of Winter!" + +Ripton tipped his comical nose upward, and was in duty bound to say, Yes! +though he observed no connection between them and the narrative. + +"Well," the hero went on, "I came to town. There I heard she was coming, +too--coming home. It must have been fate, Ripton! Heaven forgive me! I +was angry with her, and I thought I should like to see her once--only +once--and reproach her for being false--for she never wrote to me. And, +oh, the dear angel! what she must have suffered!--I gave my uncle the +slip, and got to the railway she was coming by. There was a fellow going +to meet her--a farmer's son--and, good God! they were going to try and +make her marry him! I remembered it all then. A servant of the farm had +told me. That fellow went to the wrong station, I suppose, for we saw +nothing of him. There she was--not changed a bit!--looking lovelier than +ever! And when she saw me, I knew in a minute that she must love me till +death!--You don't know what it is yet, Rip!--Will you believe, it?-- +Though I was as sure she loved me and had been true as steel, as that I +shall see her to-night, I spoke bitterly to her. And she bore it meekly- +-she looked like a saint. I told her there was but one hope of life for +me--she must prove she was true, and as I give up all, so must she. I +don't know what I said. The thought of losing her made me mad. She +tried to plead with me to wait--it was for my sake, I know. I pretended, +like a miserable hypocrite, that she did not love me at all. I think I +said shameful things. Oh what noble creatures women are! She hardly had +strength to move. I took her to that place where you found us, Rip! she +went down on her knees to me, I never dreamed of anything in life so +lovely as she looked then. Her eyes were thrown up, bright with a crowd +of tears--her dark brows bent together, like Pain and Beauty meeting in +one; and her glorious golden hair swept off her shoulders as she hung +forward to my hands.--Could I lose such a prize.--If anything could have +persuaded me, would not that?--I thought of Dante's Madonna--Guido's +Magdalen.--Is there sin in it? I see none! And if there is, it's all +mine! I swear she's spotless of a thought of sin. I see her very soul? +Cease to love her? Who dares ask me? Cease to love her? Why, I live on +her!--To see her little chin straining up from her throat, as she knelt +to me!--there was one curl that fell across her throat".... + +Ripton listened for more. Richard had gone off in a muse at the picture. + +"Well?" said Ripton, "and how about that young farmer fellow?" + +The hero's head was again contemplating the starry branches. His +lieutenant's question came to him after an interval. + +"Young Tom? Why, it's young Torn Blaize--son of our old enemy, Rip! I +like the old man now. Oh! I saw nothing of the fellow." + +"Lord!" cried Ripton, "are we going to get into a mess with Blaizes +again? I don't like that!" + +His commander quietly passed his likes or dislikes. + +"But when he goes to the train, and finds she's not there?" Ripton +suggested. + +"I've provided for that. The fool went to the South-east instead of the +South-west. All warmth, all sweetness, comes with the South-west!--I've +provided for that, friend Rip. My trusty Tom awaits him there, as if by +accident. He tells him he has not seen her, and advises him to remain in +town, and go for her there to-morrow, and the day following. Tom has +money for the work. Young Tom ought to see London, you know, Rip!--like +you. We shall gain some good clear days. And when old Blaize hears of +it--what then? I have her! she's mine!--Besides, he won't hear for a +week. This Tom beats that Tom in cunning, I'll wager. Ha! ha!" the +hero burst out at a recollection. "What do you think, Rip? My father +has some sort of System with me, it appears, and when I came to town the +time before, he took me to some people--the Grandisons--and what do you +think? one of the daughters is a little girl--a nice little thing enough +very funny--and he wants me to wait for her! He hasn't said so, but I +know it. I know what he means. Nobody understands him but me. I know +he loves me, and is one of the best of men--but just consider!--a little +girl who just comes up to my elbow. Isn't it ridiculous? Did you ever +hear such nonsense?" + +Ripton emphasized his opinion that it certainly was foolish. + +"No, no! The die's cast!" said Richard. "They've been plotting for a +year up to this day, and this is what comes of it! If my father loves +me, he will love her. And if he loves me, he'll forgive my acting +against his wishes, and see it was the only thing to be done. Come! step +out! what a time we've been!" and away he went, compelling Ripton to the +sort of strides a drummer-boy has to take beside a column of grenadiers. + +Ripton began to wish himself in love, seeing that it endowed a man with +wind so that he could breathe great sighs, while going at a tremendous +pace, and experience no sensation of fatigue. The hero was communing +with the elements, his familiars, and allowed him to pant as he pleased. +Some keen-eyed Kensington urchins, noticing the discrepancy between the +pedestrian powers of the two, aimed their wit at Mr. Thompson junior's +expense. The pace, and nothing but the pace, induced Ripton to proclaim +that they had gone too far, when they discovered that they had over shot +the mark by half a mile. In the street over which stood love's star, the +hero thundered his presence at a door, and evoked a flying housemaid, who +knew not Mrs. Berry. The hero attached significance to the fact that his +instincts should have betrayed him, for he could have sworn to that +house. The door being shut he stood in dead silence. + +"Haven't you got her card?" Ripton inquired, and heard that it was in the +custody of the cabman. Neither of them could positively bring to mind +the number of the house. + +"You ought to have chalked it, like that fellow in the Forty Thieves," +Ripton hazarded a pleasantry which met with no response. + +Betrayed by his instincts, the magic slaves of Love! The hero heavily +descended the steps. + +Ripton murmured that they were done for. His commander turned on him, +and said: "Take all the houses on the opposite side, one after another. +I'll take these." With a wry face Ripton crossed the road, altogether +subdued by Richard's native superiority to adverse circumstances. + +Then were families aroused. Then did mortals dimly guess that something +portentous was abroad. Then were labourers all day in the vineyard, +harshly wakened from their evening's nap. Hope and Fear stalked the +street, as again and again the loud companion summonses resounded. +Finally Ripton sang out cheerfully. He had Mrs. Berry before him, +profuse of mellow curtsies. + +Richard ran to her and caught her hands: "She's well?--upstairs?" + +"Oh, quite well! only a trifle tired with her journey, and fluttering- +like," Mrs. Berry replied to Ripton alone. The lover had flown aloft. + +The wise woman sagely ushered Ripton into her own private parlour, there +to wait till he was wanted. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +"In all cases where two have joined to commit an offence, punish one of +the two lightly," is the dictum of The Pilgrim's's Scrip. + +It is possible for young heads to conceive proper plans of action, and +occasionally, by sheer force of will, to check the wild horses that are +ever fretting to gallop off with them. But when they have given the +reins and the whip to another, what are they to do? They may go down on +their knees, and beg and pray the furious charioteer to stop, or moderate +his pace. Alas! each fresh thing they do redoubles his ardour: There is +a power in their troubled beauty women learn the use of, and what wonder? +They have seen it kindle Ilium to flames so often! But ere they grow +matronly in the house of Menelaus, they weep, and implore, and do not, in +truth, know how terribly two-edged is their gift of loveliness. They +resign themselves to an incomprehensible frenzy; pleasant to them, +because they attribute it to excessive love. And so the very sensible +things which they can and do say, are vain. + +I reckon it absurd to ask them to be quite in earnest. Are not those +their own horses in yonder team? Certainly, if they were quite in +earnest, they might soon have my gentleman as sober as a carter. A +hundred different ways of disenchanting him exist, and Adrian will point +you out one or two that shall be instantly efficacious. For Love, the +charioteer, is easily tripped, while honest jog-trot Love keeps his legs +to the end. Granted dear women are not quite in earnest, still the mere +words they utter should be put to their good account. They do mean them, +though their hearts are set the wrong way. 'Tis a despairing, pathetic +homage to the judgment of the majority, in whose faces they are flying. +Punish Helen, very young, lightly. After a certain age you may select +her for special chastisement. An innocent with Theseus, with Paris she +is an advanced incendiary. + +The fair young girl was sitting as her lover had left her; trying to +recall her stunned senses. Her bonnet was un-removed, her hands clasped +on her knees; dry tears in her eyes. Like a dutiful slave, she rose to +him. And first he claimed her mouth. There was a speech, made up of all +the pretty wisdom her wild situation and true love could gather, awaiting +him there; but his kiss scattered it to fragments. She dropped to her +seat weeping, and hiding her shamed cheeks. + +By his silence she divined his thoughts, and took his hand and drew it to +her lips. + +He bent beside her, bidding her look at him. + +"Keep your eyes so." + +She could not. + +"Do you fear me, Lucy?" + +A throbbing pressure answered him. + +"Do you love me, darling?" + +She trembled from head to foot. + +"Then why do you turn from me?" + +She wept: "O Richard, take me home! take me home!" + +"Look at me, Lucy!" + +Her head shrank timidly round. + +"Keep your eyes on me, darling! Now speak!" + +But she could not look and speak too. The lover knew his mastery when he +had her eyes. + +"You wish me to take you home?" + +She faltered: "O Richard? it is not too late." + +"You regret what you have done for me?" + +"Dearest! it is ruin." + +"You weep because you have consented to be mine?" + +"Not for me! O Richard!" + +"For me you weep? Look at me! For me?" + +"How will it end! O Richard!" + +"You weep for me?" + +"Dearest! I would die for you!" + +"Would you see me indifferent to everything in the world? Would you have +me lost? Do you think I will live another day in England without you? I +have staked all I have on you, Lucy. You have nearly killed me once. A +second time, and the earth will not be troubled by me. You ask me to +wait, when they are plotting against us on all sides? Darling Lucy! look +on me. Fix--your fond eyes on me. You ask me to wait when here you are +given to me when you have proved my faith--when we know we love as none +have loved. Give me your eyes! Let them tell me I have your heart!" + +Where was her wise little speech? How could she match such mighty +eloquence? She sought to collect a few more of the scattered fragments. + +"Dearest! your father may be brought to consent by and by, and then--oh! +if you take me home now"-- + +The lover stood up. "He who has been arranging that fine scheme to +disgrace and martyrize you? True, as I live! that's the reason of their +having you back. Your old servant heard him and your uncle discussing +it. He!--Lucy! he's a good man, but he must not step in between you and +me. I say God has given you to me." + +He was down by her side again, his arms enfolding her. + +She had hoped to fight a better battle than in the morning, and she was +weaker and softer. + +Ah! why should she doubt that his great love was the first law to her? +Why should she not believe that she would wreck him by resisting? And if +she suffered, oh sweet to think it was for his sake! Sweet to shut out +wisdom; accept total blindness, and be led by him! + +The hag Wisdom annoyed them little further. She rustled her garments +ominously, and vanished. + +"Oh, my own Richard!" the fair girl just breathed. + +He whispered, "Call me that name." + +She blushed deeply. + +"Call me that name," he repeated. "You said it once today." + +"Dearest!" + +Not that." + +"O darling!" + +"Not that." + +"Husband!" + +She was won. The rosy gate from which the word had issued was closed +with a seal. + +Ripton did not enjoy his introduction to the caged bird of beauty that +night. He received a lesson in the art of pumping from the worthy +landlady below, up to an hour when she yawned, and he blinked, and their +common candle wore with dignity the brigand's hat of midnight, and cocked +a drunken eye at them from under it. + + + + +ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: + +A young philosopher's an old fool! +Cold charity to all +I cannot get on with Gibbon +In our House, my son, there is peculiar blood. We go to wreck! +Our most diligent pupil learns not so much as an earnest teacher + + + + +End of this Project Gutenberg Etext of Ordeal Richard Feverel, v3 +by George Meredith + + + + + + +THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL + +By GEORGE MEREDITH + +1905 + + + +BOOK 4. + +XXVIII. RELATES HOW PREPARATIONS FOR ACTION WERE + CONDUCTED UNDER THE APRIL OF LOVERS +XIX. IN WHICH THE LAST ACT OF THE COMEDY TAKES + THE PLACE OF THE FIRST +XXX. CELEBRATES THE BREAKFAST +XXXI. THE PHILOSOPHER APPEARS IN PERSON +XXXII. PROCESSION OF THE CAKE +XXXIII. NURSING THE DEVIL + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +Beauty, of course, is for the hero. Nevertheless, it is not always he on +whom beauty works its most conquering influence. It is the dull +commonplace man into whose slow brain she drops like a celestial light, +and burns lastingly. The poet, for instance, is a connoisseur of beauty: +to the artist she is a model. These gentlemen by much contemplation of +her charms wax critical. The days when they had hearts being gone, they +are haply divided between the blonde and the brunette; the aquiline nose +and the Proserpine; this shaped eye and that. But go about among simple +unprofessional fellows, boors, dunderheads, and here and there you shall +find some barbarous intelligence which has had just strength enough to +conceive, and has taken Beauty as its Goddess, and knows but one form to +worship, in its poor stupid fashion, and would perish for her. Nay, +more: the man would devote all his days to her, though he is dumb as a +dog. And, indeed, he is Beauty's Dog. Almost every Beauty has her Dog. +The hero possesses her; the poet proclaims her; the painter puts her upon +canvas; and the faithful Old Dog follows her: and the end of it all is +that the faithful Old Dog is her single attendant. Sir Hero is revelling +in the wars, or in Armida's bowers; Mr. Poet has spied a wrinkle; the +brush is for the rose in its season. She turns to her Old Dog then. She +hugs him; and he, who has subsisted on a bone and a pat till there he +squats decrepit, he turns his grateful old eyes up to her, and has not a +notion that she is hugging sad memories in him: Hero, Poet, Painter, in +one scrubby one! Then is she buried, and the village hears languid +howls, and there is a paragraph in the newspapers concerning the +extraordinary fidelity of an Old Dog. + +Excited by suggestive recollections of Nooredeen and the Fair Persian, +and the change in the obscure monotony of his life by his having quarters +in a crack hotel, and living familiarly with West-End people--living on +the fat of the land (which forms a stout portion of an honest youth's +romance), Ripton Thompson breakfasted next morning with his chief at +half-past eight. The meal had been fixed overnight for seven, but Ripton +slept a great deal more than the nightingale, and (to chronicle his exact +state) even half-past eight rather afflicted his new aristocratic senses +and reminded him too keenly of law and bondage. He had preferred to +breakfast at Algernon's hour, who had left word for eleven. Him, +however, it was Richard's object to avoid, so they fell to, and Ripton no +longer envied Hippias in bed. Breakfast done, they bequeathed the +consoling information for Algernon that they were off to hear a popular +preacher, and departed. + +"How happy everybody looks!" said Richard, in the quiet Sunday streets. + +"Yes--jolly!" said Ripton. + +"When I'm--when this is over, I'll see that they are, too--as many as I +can make happy," said the hero; adding softly: "Her blind was down at a +quarter to six. I think she slept well!" + +"You've been there this morning?" Ripton exclaimed; and an idea of what +love was dawned upon his dull brain. + +"Will she see me, Ricky?" + +"Yes. She'll see you to-day. She was tired last night." + +"Positively?" + +Richard assured him that the privilege would be his. + +"Here," he said, coming under some trees in the park, "here's where I +talked to you last night. What a time it seems! How I hate the night!" + +On the way, that Richard might have an exalted opinion of him, Ripton +hinted decorously at a somewhat intimate and mysterious acquaintance with +the sex. Headings of certain random adventures he gave. + +"Well!" said his chief, "why not marry her?" + +Then was Ripton shocked, and cried, "Oh!" and had a taste of the feeling +of superiority, destined that day to be crushed utterly. + +He was again deposited in Mrs. Berry's charge for a term that caused him +dismal fears that the Fair Persian still refused to show her face, but +Richard called out to him, and up Ripton went, unaware of the +transformation he was to undergo. Hero and Beauty stood together to +receive him. From the bottom of the stairs he had his vivaciously +agreeable smile ready for them, and by the time he entered the room his +cheeks were painfully stiff, and his eyes had strained beyond their exact +meaning. Lucy, with one hand anchored to her lover, welcomed him kindly. +He relieved her shyness by looking so extremely silly. They sat down, +and tried to commence a conversation, but Ripton was as little master of +his tongue as he was of his eyes. After an interval, the Fair Persian +having done duty by showing herself, was glad to quit the room. Her lord +and possessor then turned inquiringly to Ripton. + +"You don't wonder now, Rip?" he said. + +"No, Richard!" Ripton waited to reply with sufficient solemnity, "indeed +I don't!" + +He spoke differently; he looked differently. He had the Old Dog's eyes +in his head. They watched the door she had passed through; they listened +for her, as dogs' eyes do. When she came in, bonneted for a walk, his +agitation was dog-like. When she hung on her lover timidly, and went +forth, he followed without an idea of envy, or anything save the secret +raptures the sight of her gave him, which are the Old Dog's own. For +beneficent Nature requites him: His sensations cannot be heroic, but they +have a fulness and a wagging delight as good in their way. And this +capacity for humble unaspiring worship has its peculiar guerdon. When +Ripton comes to think of Miss Random now, what will he think of himself? +Let no one despise the Old Dog. Through him doth Beauty vindicate her +sex. + +It did not please Ripton that others should have the bliss of beholding +her, and as, to his perceptions, everybody did, and observed her +offensively, and stared, and turned their heads back, and interchanged +comments on her, and became in a minute madly in love with her, he had to +smother low growls. They strolled about the pleasant gardens of +Kensington all the morning, under the young chestnut buds, and round the +windless waters, talking, and soothing the wild excitement of their +hearts. If Lucy spoke, Ripton pricked up his ears. She, too, made the +remark that everybody seemed to look happy, and he heard it with thrills +of joy. "So everybody is, where you are!" he would have wished to say, +if he dared, but was restrained by fears that his burning eloquence would +commit him. Ripton knew the people he met twice. It would have been +difficult to persuade him they were the creatures of accident. + +From the Gardens, in contempt of Ripton's frowned protest, Richard boldly +struck into the park, where solitary carriages were beginning to perform +the circuit. Here Ripton had some justification for his jealous pangs. +The young girl's golden locks of hair; her sweet, now dreamily sad, face; +her gentle graceful figure in the black straight dress she wore; a sort +of half-conventual air she had--a mark of something not of class, that +was partly beauty's, partly maiden innocence growing conscious, partly +remorse at her weakness and dim fear of the future it was sowing--did +attract the eye-glasses. Ripton had to learn that eyes are bearable, but +eye-glasses an abomination. They fixed a spell upon his courage; for +somehow the youth had always ranked them as emblems of our nobility, and +hearing two exquisite eye-glasses, who had been to front and rear several +times, drawl in gibberish generally imputed to lords, that his heroine +was a charming little creature, just the size, but had no style,--he was +abashed; he did not fly at them and tear them. He became dejected. +Beauty's dog is affected by the eye-glass in a manner not unlike the +common animal's terror of the human eye. + +Richard appeared to hear nothing, or it was homage that he heard. He +repeated to Lucy Diaper Sandoe's verses-- + + "The cockneys nod to each other aside, + The coxcombs lift their glasses," + +and projected hiring a horse for her to ride every day in the park, and +shine among the highest. + +They had turned to the West, against the sky glittering through the bare +trees across the water, and the bright-edged rack. The lover, his +imagination just then occupied in clothing earthly glories in celestial, +felt where his senses were sharpest the hand of his darling falter, and +instinctively looked ahead. His uncle Algernon was leisurely jolting +towards them on his one sound leg. The dismembered Guardsman talked to a +friend whose arm supported him, and speculated from time to time on the +fair ladies driving by. The two white faces passed him unobserved. +Unfortunately Ripton, coming behind, went plump upon the Captain's live +toe--or so he pretended, crying, "Confound it, Mr. Thompson! you might +have chosen the other." + +The horrible apparition did confound Ripton, who stammered that it was +extraordinary. + +"Not at all," said Algernon. "Everybody makes up to that fellow. +Instinct, I suppose!" + +He had not to ask for his nephew. Richard turned to face the matter. + +"Sorry I couldn't wait for you this morning, uncle," he said, with the +coolness of relationship. "I thought you never walked so far." + +His voice was in perfect tone--the heroic mask admirable. + +Algernon examined the downcast visage at his side, and contrived to +allude to the popular preacher. He was instantly introduced to Ripton's +sister, Miss Thompson. + +The Captain bowed, smiling melancholy approval of his nephew's choice of +a minister. After a few stray remarks, and an affable salute to Miss +Thompson, he hobbled away, and then the three sealed volcanoes breathed, +and Lucy's arm ceased to be squeezed quite so much up to the heroic +pitch. + +This incident quickened their steps homeward to the sheltering wings of +Mrs. Berry. All that passed between them on the subject comprised a +stammered excuse from Ripton for his conduct, and a good-humoured +rejoinder from Richard, that he had gained a sister by it: at which +Ripton ventured to wish aloud Miss Desborough would only think so, and a +faint smile twitched poor Lucy's lips to please him. She hardly had +strength to reach her cage. She had none to eat of Mrs. Berry's nice +little dinner. To be alone, that she might cry and ease her heart of its +accusing weight of tears, was all she prayed for. Kind Mrs. Berry, +slipping into her bedroom to take off her things, found the fair body in +a fevered shudder, and finished by undressing her completely and putting +her to bed. + +"Just an hour's sleep, or so," the mellifluous woman explained the case +to the two anxious gentlemen. "A quiet sleep and a cup of warm tea goes +for more than twenty doctors, it do--when there's the flutters," she +pursued. "I know it by myself. And a good cry beforehand's better than +the best of medicine." + +She nursed them into a make-believe of eating, and retired to her softer +charge and sweeter babe, reflecting, "Lord! Lord! the three of 'em don't +make fifty! I'm as old as two and a half of 'em, to say the least." +Mrs. Berry used her apron, and by virtue of their tender years took them +all three into her heart. + +Left alone, neither of the young men could swallow a morsel. + +"Did you see the change come over her?" Richard whispered. + +Ripton fiercely accused his prodigious stupidity. + +The lover flung down his knife and fork: "What could I do? If I had said +nothing, we should have been suspected. I was obliged to speak. And she +hates a lie! See! it has struck her down. God forgive me!" + +Ripton affected a serene mind: "It was a fright, Richard," he said. +"That's what Mrs. Berry means by flutters. Those old women talk in that +way. You heard what she said. And these old women know. I'll tell you +what it is. It's this, Richard!--it's because you've got a fool for your +friend!" + +"She regrets it," muttered the lover. "Good God! I think she fears me." +He dropped his face in his hands. + +Ripton went to the window, repeating energetically for his comfort: "It's +because you've got a fool for your friend!" + +Sombre grew the street they had last night aroused. The sun was buried +alive in cloud. Ripton saw himself no more in the opposite window. He +watched the deplorable objects passing on the pavement. His aristocratic +visions had gone like his breakfast. Beauty had been struck down by his +egregious folly, and there he stood--a wretch! + +Richard came to him: "Don't mumble on like that, Rip!" he said. "Nobody +blames you." + +"Ah! you're very kind, Richard," interposed the wretch, moved at the face +of misery he beheld. + +"Listen to me, Rip! I shall take her home to-night. Yes! If she's +happier away from me!--do you think me a brute, Ripton? Rather than have +her shed a tear, I'd!--I'll take her home to-night!" + +Ripton suggested that it was sudden; adding from his larger experience, +people perhaps might talk. + +The lover could not understand what they should talk about, but he said: +"If I give him who came for her yesterday the clue? If no one sees or +hears of me, what can they say? O Rip! I'll give her up. I'm wrecked +for ever! What of that? Yes--let them take her! The world in arms +should never have torn her from me, but when she cries--Yes! all's over. +I'll find him at once." + +He searched in out-of-the-way corners for the hat of resolve. Ripton +looked on, wretcheder than ever. + +The idea struck him:--"Suppose, Richard, she doesn't want to go?" + +It was a moment when, perhaps, one who sided with parents and guardians +and the old wise world, might have inclined them to pursue their +righteous wretched course, and have given small Cupid a smack and sent +him home to his naughty Mother. Alas!(it is The Pilgrim's Scrip +interjecting) women are the born accomplices of mischief! In bustles +Mrs. Berry to clear away the refection, and finds the two knights helmed, +and sees, though 'tis dusk, that they wear doubtful brows, and guesses +bad things for her dear God Hymen in a twinkling. + +"Dear! dear!" she exclaimed, "and neither of you eaten a scrap! And +there's my dear young lady off into the prettiest sleep you ever see!" + +"Ha?" cried the lover, illuminated. + +"Soft as a baby!" Mrs. Berry averred. "I went to look at her this very +moment, and there's not a bit of trouble in her breath. It come and it +go like the sweetest regular instrument ever made. The Black Ox haven't +trod on her foot yet! Most like it was the air of London. But only +fancy, if you had called in a doctor! Why, I shouldn't have let her take +any of his quackery. Now, there!" + +Ripton attentively observed his chief, and saw him doff his hat with a +curious caution, and peer into its recess, from which, during Mrs. +Berry's speech, he drew forth a little glove--dropped there by some freak +of chance. + +"Keep me, keep me, now you have me!" sang the little glove, and amused +the lover with a thousand conceits. + +"When will she wake, do you think, Mrs. Berry?" he asked. + +"Oh! we mustn't go for disturbing her," said the guileful good creature. +"Bless ye! let her sleep it out. And if you young gentlemen was to take +my advice, and go and take a walk for to get a appetite--everybody should +eat! it's their sacred duty, no matter what their feelings be! and I say +it who'm no chicken!--I'll frickashee this--which is a chicken--against +your return. I'm a cook, I can assure ye!" + +The lover seized her two hands. "You're the best old soul in the world!" +he cried. Mrs. Berry appeared willing to kiss him. "We won't disturb +her. Let her sleep. Keep her in bed, Mrs. Berry. Will you? And we'll +call to inquire after her this evening, and come and see her to-morrow. +I'm sure you'll be kind to her. There! there!" Mrs. Berry was preparing +to whimper. "I trust her to you, you see. Good-bye, you dear old soul." + +He smuggled a handful of gold into her keeping, and went to dine with his +uncles, happy and hungry. + +Before they reached the hotel, they had agreed to draw Mrs. Berry into +their confidence, telling her (with embellishments) all save their names, +so that they might enjoy the counsel and assistance of that trump of a +woman, and yet have nothing to fear from her. Lucy was to receive the +name of Letitia, Ripton's youngest and best-looking sister. The +heartless fellow proposed it in cruel mockery of an old weakness of hers. + +"Letitia!" mused Richard. "I like the name. Both begin with L. There's +something soft--womanlike--in the L.'s." + +Material Ripton remarked that they looked like pounds on paper. The +lover roamed through his golden groves. "Lucy Feverel! that sounds +better! I wonder where Ralph is. I should like to help him. He's in +love with my cousin Clare. He'll never do anything till he marries. No +man can. I'm going to do a hundred things when it's over. We shall +travel first. I want to see the Alps. One doesn't know what the earth +is till one has seen the Alps. What a delight it will be to her! I +fancy I see her eyes gazing up at them. + + 'And oh, your dear blue eyes, that heavenward glance + With kindred beauty, banished humbleness, + Past weeping for mortality's distress-- + Yet from your soul a tear hangs there in trance. + And fills, but does not fall; + Softly I hear it call + At heaven's gate, till Sister Seraphs press + To look on you their old love from the skies: + Those are the eyes of Seraphs bright on your blue eyes! + +"Beautiful! These lines, Rip, were written by a man who was once a friend +of my father's. I intend to find him and make them friends again. You +don't care for poetry. It's no use your trying to swallow it, Rip!" + +"It sounds very nice," said Ripton, modestly shutting his mouth. + +"The Alps! Italy! Rome! and then I shall go to the East," the hero +continued. "She's ready to go anywhere with me, the dear brave heart! +Oh, the glorious golden East! I dream of the desert. I dream I'm chief +of an Arab tribe, and we fly all white in the moonlight on our mares, and +hurry to the rescue of my darling! And we push the spears, and we +scatter them, and I come to the tent where she crouches, and catch her to +my saddle, and away!--Rip! what a life!" + +Ripton strove to imagine he could enjoy it. + +"And then we shall come home, and I shall lead Austin's life, with her to +help me. First be virtuous, Rip! and then serve your country heart and +soul. A wise man told me that. I think I shall do something." + +Sunshine and cloud, cloud and sunshine, passed over the lover. Now life +was a narrow ring; now the distances extended, were winged, flew +illimitably. An hour ago and food was hateful. Now he manfully +refreshed his nature, and joined in Algernon's encomiums on Miss Letitia +Thompson. + +Meantime Beauty slept, watched by the veteran volunteer of the hero's +band. Lucy awoke from dreams which seemed reality, to the reality which +was a dream. She awoke calling for some friend, "Margaret!" and heard +one say, "My name is Bessy Berry, my love! not Margaret." Then she +asked piteously where she was, and where was Margaret, her dear friend, +and Mrs. Berry whispered, "Sure you've got a dearer!" + +"Ah!" sighed Lucy, sinking on her pillow, overwhelmed by the strangeness +of her state. + +Mrs. Berry closed the frill of her nightgown and adjusted the bedclothes +quietly. + +Her name was breathed. + +"Yes, my love?" she said. + +"Is he here?" + +"He's gone, my dear." + +"Gone?--Oh, where?" The young girl started up in disorder. + +"Gone, to be back, my love! Ah! that young gentleman!" Mrs. Berry +chanted: "Not a morsel have he eat; not a drop have he drunk!" + +"O Mrs. Berry! why did you not make him?" Lucy wept for the famine-struck +hero, who was just then feeding mightily. + +Mrs. Berry explained that to make one eat who thought the darling of his +heart like to die, was a sheer impossibility for the cleverest of women; +and on this deep truth Lucy reflected, with her eyes wide at the candle. +She wanted one to pour her feelings out to. She slid her hand from under +the bedclothes, and took Mrs. Berry's, and kissed it. The good creature +required no further avowal of her secret, but forthwith leaned her +consummate bosom to the pillow, and petitioned heaven to bless them +both!--Then the little bride was alarmed, and wondered how Mrs. Berry +could have guessed it. + +"Why," said Mrs. Berry, "your love is out of your eyes, and out of +everything ye do." And the little bride wondered more. She thought she +had been so very cautious not to betray it. The common woman in them +made cheer together after their own April fashion. Following which Mrs. +Berry probed for the sweet particulars of this beautiful love-match; but +the little bride's lips were locked. She only said her lover was above +her in station. + +"And you're a Catholic, my dear!" + +"Yes, Mrs. Berry!" + +"And him a Protestant." + +"Yes, Mrs. Berry!" + +"Dear, dear!--And why shouldn't ye be?" she ejaculated, seeing sadness +return to the bridal babe. "So as you was born, so shall ye be! But +you'll have to make your arrangements about the children. The girls to +worship with yet, the boys with him. It's the same God, my dear! You +mustn't blush at it, though you do look so pretty. If my young gentleman +could see you now!" + +"Please, Mrs. Berry!" Lucy murmured. + +"Why, he will, you know, my dear!" + +"Oh, please, Mrs. Berry!" + +"And you that can't bear the thoughts of it! Well, I do wish there was +fathers and mothers on both sides and dock-ments signed, and bridesmaids, +and a breakfast! but love is love, and ever will be, in spite of them." + +She made other and deeper dives into the little heart, but though she +drew up pearls, they were not of the kind she searched for. The one fact +that hung as a fruit upon her tree of Love, Lucy had given her; she would +not, in fealty to her lover, reveal its growth and history, however sadly +she yearned to pour out all to this dear old Mother Confessor. + +Her conduct drove Mrs. Berry from the rosy to the autumnal view of +matrimony, generally heralded by the announcement that it is a lottery. + +"And when you see your ticket," said Mrs. Berry, "you shan't know whether +it's a prize or a blank. And, Lord knows! some go on thinking it's a +prize when it turns on 'em and tears 'em. I'm one of the blanks, my +dear! I drew a blank in Berry. He was a black Berry to me, my dear! +Smile away! he truly was, and I a-prizin' him as proud as you can +conceive! My dear!" Mrs. Berry pressed her hands flat on her apron. +"We hadn't been a three months man and wife, when that man--it wasn't +the honeymoon, which some can't say--that man--Yes! he kicked me. +His wedded wife he kicked! Ah!" she sighedto Lucy's large eyes, +"I could have borne that. A blow don't touch the heart," the poor +creature tapped her sensitive side. "I went on loving of him, for +I'm a soft one. Tall as a Grenadier he is, and when out of service +grows his moustache. I used to call him my body-guardsman like a +Queen! I flattered him like the fools we women are. For, take my word +for it, my dear, there's nothing here below so vain as a man! That I +know. But I didn't deserve it.... I'm a superior cook .... I did not +deserve that noways." Mrs. Berry thumped her knee, and accentuated up +her climax: "I mended his linen. I saw to his adornments--he called his +clothes, the bad man! I was a servant to him, my dear! and there--it was +nine months--nine months from the day he swear to protect and cherish and +that--nine calendar months, and my gentleman is off with another woman! +Bone of his bone!--pish!" exclaimed Mrs. Berry, reckoning her wrongs over +vividly. "Here's my ring. A pretty ornament! What do it mean? I'm for +tearin' it off my finger a dozen times in the day. It's a symbol? I +call it a tomfoolery for the dead-alive to wear it, that's a widow and +not a widow, and haven't got a name for what she is in any Dixonary, I've +looked, my dear, and"--she spread out her arms--"Johnson haven't got a +name for me!" + +At this impressive woe Mrs. Berry's voice quavered into sobs. Lucy spoke +gentle words to the poor outcast from Johnson. The sorrows of Autumn +have no warning for April. The little bride, for all her tender pity, +felt happier when she had heard her landlady's moving tale of the +wickedness of man, which cast in bright relief the glory of that one hero +who was hers. Then from a short flight of inconceivable bliss, she fell, +shot by one of her hundred Argus-eyed fears. + +"O Mrs. Berry! I'm so young! Think of me--only just seventeen!" + +Mrs. Berry immediately dried her eyes to radiance. "Young, my dear! +Nonsense! There's no so much harm in being young, here and there. I +knew an Irish lady was married at fourteen. Her daughter married close +over fourteen. She was a grandmother by thirty! When any strange man +began, she used to ask him what pattern caps grandmothers wore. They'd +stare! Bless you! the grandmother could have married over and over +again. It was her daughter's fault, not hers, you know." + +"She was three years younger," mused Lucy. + +"She married beneath her, my dear. Ran off with her father's bailiff's +son. 'Ah, Berry!' she'd say, 'if I hadn't been foolish, I should be my +lady now--not Granny!' Her father never forgave her--left all his +estates out of the family." + +"Did her husband always love her?" Lucy preferred to know. + +"In his way, my dear, he did," said Mrs. Berry, coming upon her +matrimonial wisdom. "He couldn't help himself. If he left off, he began +again. She was so clever, and did make him so comfortable. Cook! there +wasn't such another cook out of a Alderman's kitchen; no, indeed! And +she a born lady! That tells ye it's the duty of all women! She had her +saying 'When the parlour fire gets low, put coals on the ketchen fire!' +and a good saying it is to treasure. Such is man! no use in havin' their +hearts if ye don't have their stomachs." + +Perceiving that she grew abstruse, Mrs. Berry added briskly: "You know +nothing about that yet, my dear. Only mind me and mark me: don't neglect +your cookery. Kissing don't last: cookery do!" + +Here, with an aphorism worthy a place in The Pilgrim'S Scrip, she broke +off to go posseting for her dear invalid. Lucy was quite well; very +eager to be allowed to rise and be ready when the knock should come. +Mrs. Berry, in her loving considerateness for the little bride, +positively commanded her to lie down, and be quiet, and submit to be +nursed and cherished. For Mrs. Berry well knew that ten minutes alone +with the hero could only be had while the little bride was in that +unattainable position. + +Thanks to her strategy, as she thought, her object was gained. The night +did not pass before she learnt, from the hero's own mouth, that Mr. +Richards, the father of the hero, and a stern lawyer, was adverse to his +union with this young lady he loved, because of a ward of his, heiress to +an immense property, whom he desired his son to espouse; and because his +darling Letitia was a Catholic--Letitia, the sole daughter of a brave +naval officer deceased, and in the hands of a savage uncle, who wanted to +sacrifice this beauty to a brute of a son. Mrs. Berry listened +credulously to the emphatic narrative, and spoke to the effect that the +wickedness of old people formed the excuse for the wildness of young +ones. The ceremonious administration of oaths of secrecy and devotion +over, she was enrolled in the hero's band, which now numbered three, and +entered upon the duties with feminine energy, for there are no +conspirators like women. Ripton's lieutenancy became a sinecure, his +rank merely titular. He had never been married--he knew nothing about +licences, except that they must be obtained, and were not difficult--he +had not an idea that so many days' warning must be given to the clergyman +of the parish where one of the parties was resident. How should he? All +his forethought was comprised in the ring, and whenever the discussion of +arrangements for the great event grew particularly hot and important, he +would say, with a shrewd nod: "We mustn't forget the ring, you know, Mrs. +Berry!" and the new member was only prevented by natural complacence from +shouting: "Oh, drat ye! and your ring too." Mrs. Berry had acted +conspicuously in fifteen marriages, by banns, and by licence, and to have +such an obvious requisite dinned in her ears was exasperating. They +could not have contracted alliance with an auxiliary more invaluable, an +authority so profound; and they acknowledged it to themselves. The hero +marched like an automaton at her bidding; Lieutenant Thompson was +rejoiced to perform services as errand-boy in the enterprise. + +"It's in hopes you'll be happier than me, I do it," said the devout and +charitable Berry. "Marriages is made in heaven, they say; and if that's +the case, I say they don't take much account of us below!" + +Her own woeful experiences had been given to the hero in exchange for his +story of cruel parents. + +Richard vowed to her that he would henceforth hold it a duty to hunt out +the wanderer from wedded bonds, and bring him back bound and suppliant. + +"Oh, he'll come!" said Mrs. Berry, pursing prophetic wrinkles: "he'll +come of his own accord. Never anywhere will he meet such a cook as Bessy +Berry! And he know her value in his heart of hearts. And I do believe, +when he do come, I shall be opening these arms to him again, and not +slapping his impidence in the face--I'm that soft! I always was--in +matrimony, Mr. Richards!" + +As when nations are secretly preparing for war, the docks and arsenals +hammer night and day, and busy contractors measure time by inches, and +the air hums around: for leagues as it were myriads of bees, so the house +and neighbourhood of the matrimonial soft one resounded in the heroic +style, and knew little of the changes of light decreed by Creation. Mrs. +Berry was the general of the hour. Down to Doctors' Commons she +expedited the hero, instructing him how boldly to face the Law, and fib: +for that the Law never could mist a fib and a bold face. Down the hero +went, and proclaimed his presence. And lo! the Law danced to him its +sedatest lovely bear's-dance. Think ye the Lawless susceptible to him +than flesh and blood? With a beautiful confidence it put the few +familiar questions to him, and nodded to his replies: then stamped the +bond, and took the fee. It must be an old vagabond at heart that can +permit the irrevocable to go so cheap, even to a hero. For only mark him +when he is petitioned by heroes and heroines to undo what he does so +easily! That small archway of Doctors' Commons seems the eye of a +needle, through which the lean purse has a way, somehow, of slipping more +readily than the portly; but once through, all are camels alike, the lean +purse an especially big camel. Dispensing tremendous marriage as it +does, the Law can have no conscience. + +"I hadn't the slightest difficulty," said the exulting hero. + +"Of course not!" returns Mrs. Berry. "It's as easy, if ye're in earnest, +as buying a plum bun." + +Likewise the ambassador of the hero went to claim the promise of the +Church to be in attendance on a certain spot, on a certain day, and there +hear oath of eternal fealty, and gird him about with all its forces: +which the Church, receiving a wink from the Law, obsequiously engaged to +do, for less than the price of a plum-cake. + +Meantime, while craftsmen and skilled women, directed by Mrs. Berry, were +toiling to deck the day at hand, Raynham and Belthorpe slept,--the former +soundly; and one day was as another to them. Regularly every morning a +letter arrived from Richard to his father, containing observations on the +phenomena of London; remarks (mainly cynical) on the speeches and acts of +Parliament; and reasons for not having yet been able to call on the +Grandisons. They were certainly rather monotonous and spiritless. The +baronet did not complain. That cold dutiful tone assured him there was +no internal trouble or distraction. "The letters of a healthful +physique!" he said to Lady Blandish, with sure insight. Complacently he +sat and smiled, little witting that his son's ordeal was imminent, and +that his son's ordeal was to be his own. Hippias wrote that his nephew +was killing him by making appointments which he never kept, and +altogether neglecting him in the most shameless way, so that his +ganglionic centre was in a ten times worse state than when he left +Raynham. He wrote very bitterly, but it was hard to feel compassion for +his offended stomach. + +On the other hand, young Tom Blaize was not forthcoming, and had +despatched no tidings whatever. Farmer Blaize smoked his pipe evening +after evening, vastly disturbed. London was a large place--young Tom +might be lost in it, he thought; and young Tom had his weaknesses. A +wolf at Belthorpe, he was likely to be a sheep in London, as yokels have +proved. But what had become of Lucy? This consideration almost sent +Farmer Blaize off to London direct, and he would have gone had not his +pipe enlightened him. A young fellow might play truant and get into a +scrape, but a young man and a young woman were sure to be heard of, +unless they were acting in complicity. Why, of course, young Tom had +behaved like a man, the rascal! and married her outright there, while he +had the chance. It was a long guess. Still it was the only reasonable +way of accounting for his extraordinary silence, and therefore the farmer +held to it that he had done the deed. He argued as modern men do who +think the hero, the upsetter of ordinary calculations, is gone from us. +So, after despatching a letter to a friend in town to be on the outlook +for son Tom, he continued awhile to smoke his pipe, rather elated than +not, and mused on the shrewd manner he should adopt when Master Honeymoon +did appear. + +Toward the middle of the second week of Richard's absence, Tom Bakewell +came to Raynham for Cassandra, and privately handed a letter to the +Eighteenth Century, containing a request for money, and a round sum. The +Eighteenth Century was as good as her word, and gave Tom a letter in +return, enclosing a cheque on her bankers, amply providing to keep the +heroic engine in motion at a moderate pace. Tom went back, and Raynham +and Lobourne slept and dreamed not of the morrow. The System, wedded to +Time, slept, and knew not how he had been outraged--anticipated by seven +pregnant seasons. For Time had heard the hero swear to that legalizing +instrument, and had also registered an oath. Ah me! venerable Hebrew +Time! he is unforgiving. Half the confusion and fever of the world comes +of this vendetta he declares against the hapless innocents who have once +done him a wrong. They cannot escape him. They will never outlive it. +The father of jokes, he is himself no joke; which it seems the business +of men to discover. + +The days roll round. He is their servant now. Mrs. Berry has a new +satin gown, a beautiful bonnet, a gold brooch, and sweet gloves, +presented to her by the hero, wherein to stand by his bride at the altar +to-morrow; and, instead of being an old wary hen, she is as much a +chicken as any of the party, such has been the magic of these articles. +Fathers she sees accepting the facts produced for them by their children; +a world content to be carved out as it pleases the hero. + +At last Time brings the bridal eve, and is blest as a benefactor. The +final arrangements are made; the bridegroom does depart; and Mrs. Berry +lights the little bride to her bed. Lucy stops on the landing where +there is an old clock eccentrically correct that night. 'Tis the +palpitating pause before the gates of her transfiguration. Mrs. Berry +sees her put her rosy finger on the One about to strike, and touch all +the hours successively till she comes to the Twelve that shall sound +"Wife" in her ears on the morrow, moving her lips the while, and looking +round archly solemn when she has done; and that sight so catches at Mrs. +Berry's heart that, not guessing Time to be the poor child's enemy, she +endangers her candle by folding Lucy warmly in her arms, whimpering; +"Bless you for a darling! you innocent lamb! You shall be happy! You +shall!" + +Old Time gazes grimly ahead. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +Although it blew hard when Caesar crossed the Rubicon, the passage of +that river is commonly calm; calm as Acheron. So long as he gets his +fare, the ferryman does not need to be told whom he carries: he pulls +with a will, and heroes may be over in half-an-hour. Only when they +stand on the opposite bank, do they see what a leap they have taken. The +shores they have relinquished shrink to an infinite remoteness. There +they have dreamed: here they must act. There lie youth and irresolution: +here manhood and purpose. They are veritably in another land: a moral +Acheron divides their life. Their memories scarce seem their own! The +Philosophical Geography (about to be published) observes that each man +has, one time or other, a little Rubicon--a clear or a foul water to +cross. It is asked him: "Wilt thou wed this Fate, and give up all behind +thee?" And "I will," firmly pronounced, speeds him over. The above- +named manuscript authority informs us, that by far the greater number of +caresses rolled by this heroic flood to its sister stream below, are +those of fellows who have repented their pledge, and have tried to swim +back to the bank they have blotted out. For though every man of us may +be a hero for one fatal minute, very few remain so after a day's march +even: and who wonders that Madam Fate is indignant, and wears the +features of the terrible Universal Fate to him? Fail before her, either +in heart or in act, and lo, how the alluring loves in her visage wither +and sicken to what it is modelled on! Be your Rubicon big or small, +clear or foul, it is the same: you shall not return. On--or to Acheron!- +-I subscribe to that saying of The Pilgrim's Scrip: + +"The danger of a little knowledge of things is disputable: but beware the +little knowledge of one's self!" + +Richard Feverel was now crossing the River of his Ordeal. Already the +mists were stealing over the land he had left: his life was cut in two, +and he breathed but the air that met his nostrils. His father, his +father's love, his boyhood and ambition, were shadowy. His poetic dreams +had taken a living attainable shape. He had a distincter impression of +the Autumnal Berry and her household than of anything at Raynham. And +yet the young man loved his father, loved his home: and I daresay Caesar +loved Rome: but whether he did or no, Caesar when he killed the Republic +was quite bald, and the hero we are dealing with is scarce beginning to +feel his despotic moustache. Did he know what he was made of? +Doubtless, nothing at all. But honest passion has an instinct that can +be safer than conscious wisdom. He was an arrow drawn to the head, +flying from the bow. His audacious mendacities and subterfuges did not +strike him as in any way criminal; for he was perfectly sure that the +winning and securing of Lucy would in the end be boisterously approved +of, and in that case, were not the means justified? Not that he took +trouble to argue thus, as older heroes and self-convicting villains are +in the habit of doing; to deduce a clear conscience. Conscience and Lucy +went together. + +It was a soft fair day. The Rubicon sparkled in the morning sun. One of +those days when London embraces the prospect of summer, and troops forth +all its babies. The pavement, the squares, the parks, were early alive +with the cries of young Britain. Violet and primrose girls, and organ +boys with military monkeys, and systematic bands very determined in tone +if not in tune, filled the atmosphere, and crowned the blazing procession +of omnibuses, freighted with business men, Cityward, where a column of +reddish brown smoke,--blown aloft by the South-west, marked the scene of +conflict to which these persistent warriors repaired. Richard had seen +much of early London that morning. His plans were laid. He had taken +care to ensure his personal liberty against accidents, by leaving his +hotel and his injured uncle Hippias at sunrise. To-day or to-morrow his +father was to arrive. Farmer Blaize, Tom Bakewell reported to him, was +raging in town. Another day and she might be torn from him: but to-day +this miracle of creation would be his, and then from those glittering +banks yonder, let them summon him to surrender her who dared! The +position of things looked so propitious that he naturally thought the +powers waiting on love conspired in his behalf. And she, too--since she +must cross this river, she had sworn to him to be brave, and do him +honour, and wear the true gladness of her heart in her face. Without a +suspicion of folly in his acts, or fear of results, Richard strolled into +Kensington Gardens, breakfasting on the foreshadow of his great joy, now +with a vision of his bride, now of the new life opening to him. Mountain +masses of clouds, rounded in sunlight, swung up the blue. The flowering +chestnut pavilions overhead rustled and hummed. A sound in his ears as +of a banner unfolding in the joyful distance lulled him. + +He was to meet his bride at the church at a quarter past eleven. His +watch said a quarter to ten. He strolled on beneath the long-stemmed +trees toward the well dedicated to a saint obscure. Some people were +drinking at the well. A florid lady stood by a younger one, who had a +little silver mug half-way to her mouth, and evinced undisguised dislike +to the liquor of the salutary saint. + +"Drink, child!" said the maturer lady. "That is only your second mug. I +insist upon your drinking three full ones every morning we're in town. +Your constitution positively requires iron!" + +"But, mama," the other expostulated, "it's so nasty. I shall be sick." + +"Drink!" was the harsh injunction. "Nothing to the German waters, my +dear. Here, let me taste." She took the mug and gave it a flying kiss. +"I declare I think it almost nice--not at all objectionable. Pray, taste +it," she said to a gentleman standing below them to act as cup-bearer. + +An unmistakable cis-Rubicon voice replied: "Certainly, if it's good +fellowship; though I confess I don't think mutual sickness a very +engaging ceremony." + +Can one never escape from one's relatives? Richard ejaculated inwardly. + +Without a doubt those people were Mrs. Doria, Clare, and Adrian. He had +them under his eyes. + +Clare, peeping up from her constitutional dose to make sure no man was +near to see the possible consequence of it, was the first to perceive +him. Her hand dropped. + +"Now, pray, drink, and do not fuss!" said Mrs. Doria. + +"Mama!" Clare gasped. + +Richard came forward and capitulated honourably, since retreat was out of +the question. Mrs. Doria swam to meet him: "My own boy! My dear +Richard!" profuse of exclamations. Clare shyly greeted him. Adrian kept +in the background. + +"Why, we were coming for you to-day, Richard," said Mrs. Doria, smiling +effusion; and rattled on, "We want another cavalier. This is delightful! +My dear nephew! You have grown from a boy to a man. And there's down on +his lip! And what brings you here at such an hour in the morning? +Poetry, I suppose! Here, take my, arm, child.--Clare! finish that mug +and thank your cousin for sparing you the third. I always bring her, +when we are by a chalybeate, to take the waters before breakfast. We +have to get up at unearthly hours. Think, my dear boy! Mothers are +sacrifices! And so you've been alone a fortnight with your agreeable +uncle! A charming time of it you must have had! Poor Hippias! what may +be his last nostrum?" + +"Nephew!" Adrian stretched his head round to the couple. "Doses of +nephew taken morning and night fourteen days! And he guarantees that it +shall destroy an iron constitution in a month." + +Richard mechanically shook Adrian's hand as he spoke. + +"Quite well, Ricky?" + +"Yes: well enough," Richard answered. + +"Well?" resumed his vigorous aunt, walking on with him, while Clare and +Adrian followed. "I really never saw you looking so handsome. There's +something about your face--look at me--you needn't blush. You've grown +to an Apollo. That blue buttoned-up frock coat becomes you admirably-- +and those gloves, and that easy neck-tie. Your style is irreproachable, +quite a style of your own! And nothing eccentric. You have the instinct +of dress. Dress shows blood, my dear boy, as much as anything else. +Boy!--you see, I can't forget old habits. You were a boy when I left, +and now!--Do you see any change in him, Clare?" she turned half round to +her daughter. + +"Richard is looking very well, mama," said Clare, glancing at him under +her eyelids. + +"I wish I could say the same of you, my dear.--Take my arm, Richard. Are +you afraid of your aunt? I want to get used to you. Won't it be +pleasant, our being all in town together in the season? How fresh the +Opera will be to you! Austin, I hear, takes stalls. You can come to the +Forey's box when you like. We are staying with the Foreys close by here. +I think it's a little too far out, you know; but they like the +neighbourhood. This is what I have always said: Give him more liberty! +Austin has seen it at last. How do you think Clare looking?" + +The question had to be repeated. Richard surveyed his cousin hastily, +and praised her looks. + +"Pale!" Mrs. Doria sighed. + +"Rather pale, aunt." + +"Grown very much--don't you think, Richard?" + +"Very tall girl indeed, aunt." + +"If she had but a little more colour, my dear Richard! I'm sure I give +her all the iron she can swallow, but that pallor still continues. I +think she does not prosper away from her old companion. She was +accustomed to look up to you, Richard"-- + +"Did you get Ralph's letter, aunt?" Richard interrupted her. + +"Absurd!" Mrs. Doria pressed his arm. "The nonsense of a boy! Why did +you undertake to forward such stuff?" + +"I'm certain he loves her," said Richard, in a serious way. + +The maternal eyes narrowed on him. "Life, my dear Richard, is a game of +cross-purposes," she observed, dropping her fluency, and was rather +angered to hear him laugh. He excused himself by saying that she spoke +so like his father. + +"You breakfast with us," she freshened off again. "The Foreys wish to +see you; the girls are dying to know you. Do you know, you have a +reputation on account of that"--she crushed an intruding adjective-- +"System you were brought up on. You mustn't mind it. For my part, I +think you look a credit to it. Don't be bashful with young women, mind! +As much as you please with the old ones. You know how to behave among +men. There you have your Drawing-room Guide! I'm sure I shall be proud +of you. Am I not?" + +Mrs. Doria addressed his eyes coaxingly. + +A benevolent idea struck Richard, that he might employ the minutes to +spare, in pleading the case of poor Ralph; and, as he was drawn along, he +pulled out his watch to note the precise number of minutes he could +dedicate to this charitable office. + +"Pardon me," said Mrs. Doria. "You want manners, my dear boy. I think +it never happened to me before that a man consulted his watch in my +presence." + +Richard mildly replied that he had an engagement at a particular hour, up +to which he was her servant. + +"Fiddlededee!" the vivacious lady sang. "Now I've got you, I mean to +keep you. Oh! I've heard all about you. This ridiculous indifference +that your father makes so much of! Why, of course, you wanted to see the +world! A strong healthy young man shut up all his life in a lonely +house--no friends, no society, no amusements but those of rustics! Of +course you were indifferent! Your intelligence and superior mind alone +saved you from becoming a dissipated country boor.--Where are the +others?" + +Clare and Adrian came up at a quick pace. + +"My damozel dropped something," Adrian explained. + +Her mother asked what it was. + +"Nothing, mama," said Clare, demurely, and they proceeded as before. + +Overborne by his aunt's fluency of tongue, and occupied in acute +calculation of the flying minutes, Richard let many pass before he edged +in a word for Ralph. When he did, Mrs. Doria stopped him immediately. + +"I must tell you, child, that I refuse to listen to such rank idiotcy." + +"It's nothing of the kind, aunt." + +"The fancy of a boy." + +"He's not a boy. He's half-a-year older than I am!" + +"You silly child! The moment you fall in love, you all think yourselves +men." + +"On my honour, aunt! I believe he loves her thoroughly." + +"Did he tell you so, child?" + +"Men don't speak openly of those things," said Richard. + +"Boys do," said Mrs. Doria. + +"But listen to me in earnest, aunt. I want you to be kind to Ralph. +Don't drive him to--You maybe sorry for it. Let him--do let him write to +her, and see her. I believe women are as cruel as men in these things." + +"I never encourage absurdity, Richard." + +"What objection have you to Ralph, aunt?" + +"Oh, they're both good families. It's not that absurdity, Richard. It +will be to his credit to remember that his first fancy wasn't a +dairymaid." Mrs. Doria pitched her accent tellingly. It did not touch +her nephew. + +"Don't you want Clare ever to marry?" He put the last point of reason to +her. + +Mrs. Doria laughed. "I hope so, child. We must find some comfortable +old gentleman for her." + +"What infamy!" mutters Richard. + +"And I engage Ralph shall be ready to dance at her wedding, or eat a +hearty breakfast--We don't dance at weddings now, and very properly. +It's a horrid sad business, not to be treated with levity.--Is that his +regiment?" she said, as they passed out of the hussar-sentinelled +gardens. "Tush, tush, child! Master Ralph will recover, as--hem! others +have done. A little headache--you call it heartache--and up you rise +again, looking better than ever. No doubt, to have a grain of sense +forced into your brains, you poor dear children! must be painful.. Girls +suffer as much as boys, I assure you. More, for their heads are weaker, +and their appetites less constant. Do I talk like your father now? +Whatever makes the boy fidget at his watch so?" + +Richard stopped short. Time spoke urgently. + +"I must go," he said. + +His face did not seem good for trifling. Mrs. Doria would trifle in +spite. + +"Listen, Clare! Richard is going. He says he has an engagement. What +possible engagement can a young man have at eleven o'clock in the +morning?--unless it's to be married!" Mrs. Doria laughed at the +ingenuity of her suggestion. + +"Is the church handy, Ricky?" said Adrian. "You can still give us half- +an-hour if it is. The celibate hours strike at Twelve." And he also +laughed in his fashion. + +"Won't you stay with us, Richard?" Clare asked. She blushed timidly, and +her voice shook. + +Something indefinite--a sharp-edged thrill in the tones made the burning +bridegroom speak gently to her. + +"Indeed, I would, Clare; I should like to please you, but I have a most +imperative appointment--that is, I promised--I must go. I shall see you +again"-- + +Mrs. Doria, took forcible possession of him. "Now, do come, and don't +waste words. I insist upon your having some breakfast first, and then, +if you really must go, you shall. Look! there's the house. At least you +will accompany your aunt to the door." + +Richard conceded this. She little imagined what she required of him. +Two of his golden minutes melted into nothingness. They were growing to +be jewels of price, one by one more and more precious as they ran, and +now so costly-rare--rich as his blood! not to kindest relations, dearest +friends, could he give another. The die is cast! Ferryman! push off. + +"Good-bye!" he cried, nodding bluffly at the three as one, and fled. + +They watched his abrupt muscular stride through the grounds of the house. +He looked like resolution on the march. Mrs. Doria, as usual with her +out of her brother's hearing, began rating the System. + +"See what becomes of that nonsensical education! The boy really does not +know how to behave like a common mortal. He has some paltry appointment, +or is mad after some ridiculous idea of his own, and everything must be +sacrificed to it! That's what Austin calls concentration of the +faculties. I think it's more likely to lead to downright insanity than +to greatness of any kind. And so I shall tell Austin. It's time he +should be spoken to seriously about him." + +"He's an engine, my dear aunt," said Adrian. "He isn't a boy, or a man, +but an engine. And he appears to have been at high pressure since he +came to town--out all day and half the night." + +"He's mad!" Mrs. Doria interjected. + +"Not at all. Extremely shrewd is Master Ricky, and carries as open an +eye ahead of him as the ships before Troy. He's more than a match for +any of us. He is for me, I confess." + +"Then," said Mrs. Doria, "he does astonish me!" + +Adrian begged her to retain her astonishment till the right season, which +would not be long arriving. + +Their common wisdom counselled them not to tell the Foreys of their +hopeful relative's ungracious behaviour. Clare had left them. When Mrs. +Doria went to her room her daughter was there, gazing down at something +in her hand, which she guiltily closed. + +In answer to an inquiry why she had not gone to take off her things, +Clare said she was not hungry. Mrs. Doria lamented the obstinacy of a +constitution that no quantity of iron could affect, and eclipsed the +looking-glass, saying: "Take them off here, child, and learn to assist +yourself." + +She disentangled her bonnet from the array of her spreading hair, talking +of Richard, and his handsome appearance, and extraordinary conduct. +Clare kept opening and shutting her hand, in an attitude half-pensive, +half-listless. She did not stir to undress. A joyless dimple hung in +one pale cheek, and she drew long even breaths. + +Mrs. Doria, assured by the glass that she was ready to show, came to her +daughter. + +"Now, really," she said, "you are too helpless, my dear. You cannot do a +thing without a dozen women at your elbow. What will become of you? You +will have to marry a millionaire.--What's the matter with you, child?" + +Clare undid her tight-shut fingers, as if to some attraction of her eyes, +and displayed a small gold hoop on the palm of a green glove. + +"A wedding-ring!" exclaimed Mrs. Doria, inspecting the curiosity most +daintily. + +There on Clare's pale green glove lay a wedding-ring! + +Rapid questions as to where, when, how, it was found, beset Clare, who +replied: "In the Gardens, mama. This morning. When I was walking behind +Richard." + +"Are you sure he did not give it you, Clare?" + +"Oh no, mama! he did not give it me." + +"Of course not! only he does such absurd things!" Ithought, perhaps-- +these boys are so exceedingly ridiculous!" Mrs. Doria had an idea that +it might have been concerted between the two young gentlemen, Richard and +Ralph, that the former should present this token of hymeneal devotion +from the latter to the young lady of his love; but a moment's reflection +exonerated boys even from such preposterous behaviour. + +"Now, I wonder," she speculated on Clare's cold face, "I do wonder +whether it's lucky to find a wedding-ring. What very quick eyes you +have, my darling!" Mrs. Doria kissed her. She thought it must be lucky, +and the circumstance made her feel tender to her child. Her child did +not move to the kiss. + +"Let's see whether it fits," said Mrs. Doria, almost infantine with +surprise and pleasure. + +Clare suffered her glove to be drawn off. The ring slid down her long +thin finger, and settled comfortably. + +"It does!" Mrs. Doria whispered. To find a wedding ring is open to any +woman; but to find a wedding-ring that fits may well cause a +superstitious emotion. Moreover, that it should be found while walking +in the neighbourhood of the identical youth whom a mother has destined +for her daughter, gives significance to the gentle perturbation of ideas +consequent on such a hint from Fortune. + +"It really fits!" she pursued. "Now I never pay any attention to the +nonsense of omens and that kind of thing" (had the ring been a horseshoe +Mrs. Doria would have pinked it up and dragged it obediently home), "but +this, I must say, is odd--to find a ring that fits!--singular! It never +happened to me. Sixpence is the most I ever discovered, and I have it +now. Mind you keep it, Clare--this ring: And," she laughed, "offer it to +Richard when he comes; say, you think he must have dropped it." + +The dimple in Clare's cheek quivered. + +Mother and daughter had never spoken explicitly of Richard. Mrs. Doria, +by exquisite management, had contrived to be sure that on one side there +would be no obstacle to her project of general happiness, without, as she +thought, compromising her daughter's feelings unnecessarily. It could do +no harm to an obedient young girl to hear that there was no youth in the +world like a certain youth. He the prince of his generation, she might +softly consent, when requested, to be his princess; and if never +requested (for Mrs. Doria envisaged failure), she might easily transfer +her softness to squires of lower degree. Clare had always been blindly +obedient to her mother (Adrian called them Mrs. Doria Battledoria and the +fair Shuttlecockiana), and her mother accepted in this blind obedience +the text of her entire character. It is difficult for those who think +very earnestly for their children to know when their children are +thinking on their own account. The exercise of their volition we +construe as revolt. Our love does not like to be invalided and deposed +from its command, and here I think yonder old thrush on the lawn who has +just kicked the last of her lank offspring out of the nest to go shift +for itself, much the kinder of the two, though sentimental people do +shrug their shoulders at these unsentimental acts of the creatures who +never wander from nature. Now, excess of obedience is, to one who +manages most exquisitely, as bad as insurrection. Happily Mrs. Doria saw +nothing in her daughter's manner save a want of iron. Her pallor, her +lassitude, the tremulous nerves in her face, exhibited an imperious +requirement of the mineral. + +"The reason why men and women are mysterious to us, and prove +disappointing," we learn from The Pilgrim's Scrip, "is, that we will read +them from our own book; just as we are perplexed by reading ourselves +from theirs." + +Mrs. Doria read her daughter from her own book, and she was gay; she +laughed with Adrian at the breakfast-table, and mock-seriously joined in +his jocose assertion that Clare was positively and by all hymeneal +auspices betrothed to the owner of that ring, be he who he may, and must, +whenever he should choose to come and claim her, give her hand to him +(for everybody agreed the owner must be masculine, as no woman would drop +a wedding-ring), and follow him whither he listed all the world over. +Amiable giggling Forey girls called Clare, The Betrothed. Dark man, or +fair? was mooted. Adrian threw off the first strophe of Clare's fortune +in burlesque rhymes, with an insinuating gipsy twang. Her aunt Forey +warned her to have her dresses in readiness. Her grandpapa Forey +pretended to grumble at bridal presents being expected from grandpapas. + +This one smelt orange-flower, another spoke solemnly of an old shoe. The +finding of a wedding-ring was celebrated through all the palpitating +accessories and rosy ceremonies involved by that famous instrument. In +the midst of the general hilarity, Clare showed her deplorable want of +iron by bursting into tears. + +Did the poor mocked-at heart divine what might be then enacting? +Perhaps, dimly, as we say: that is, without eyes. + +At an altar stand two fair young creatures, ready with their oaths. They +are asked to fix all time to the moment, and they do so. If there is +hesitation at the immense undertaking, it is but maidenly. She conceives +as little mental doubt of the sanity of the act as he. Over them hangs a +cool young curate in his raiment of office. Behind are two apparently +lucid people, distinguished from each other by sex and age: the foremost +a bunch of simmering black satin; under her shadow a cock-robin in the +dress of a gentleman, big joy swelling out his chest, and pert +satisfaction cocking his head. These be they who stand here in place of +parents to the young couple. All is well. The service proceeds. + +Firmly the bridegroom tells forth his words. This hour of the complacent +giant at least is his, and that he means to hold him bound through the +eternities, men may hear. Clearly, and with brave modesty, speaks she: +no less firmly, though her body trembles: her voice just vibrating while +the tone travels on, like a smitten vase. + +Time hears sentence pronounced on him: the frail hands bind his huge +limbs and lock the chains. He is used to it: he lets them do as they +will. + +Then comes that period when they are to give their troth to each other. +The Man with his right hand takes the Woman by her right hand: the Woman +with her right hand takes the Man by his right hand.--Devils dare not +laugh at whom Angels crowd to contemplate. + +Their hands are joined; their blood flows as one stream. Adam and fair +Eve front the generations. Are they not lovely? Purer fountains of life +were never in two bosoms. + +And then they loose their hands, and the cool curate doth bid the Man to +put a ring on the Woman's fourth finger, counting thumb. And the Man +thrusts his hand into one pocket, and into another, forward and back many +times into all his pockets. He remembers that he felt for it, and felt +it in his waistcoat pocket, when in the Gardens. And his hand comes +forth empty. And the Man is ghastly to look at! + +Yet, though Angels smile, shall not Devils laugh! The curate +deliberates. The black satin bunch ceases to simmer. He in her shadow +changes from a beaming cock-robin to an inquisitive sparrow. Eyes +multiply questions: lips have no reply. Time ominously shakes his chain, +and in the pause a sound of mockery stings their ears. + +Think ye a hero is one to be defeated in his first battle? Look at the +clock! there are but seven minutes to the stroke of the celibate hours: +the veteran is surely lifting his two hands to deliver fire, and his shot +will sunder them in twain so nearly united. All the jewellers of London +speeding down with sacks full of the nuptial circlet cannot save them! + +The battle must be won on the field, and what does the hero now? It is +an inspiration! For who else would dream of such a reserve in the rear? +None see what he does; only that the black-satin bunch is remonstratingly +agitated, stormily shaken, and subdued: and as though the menacing cloud +had opened, and dropped the dear token from the skies at his demand, he +produces the symbol of their consent, and the service proceeds: "With +this ring I thee wed." + +They are prayed over and blest. For good, or for ill, this deed is done. +The names are registered; fees fly right and left: they thank, and +salute, the curate, whose official coolness melts into a smile of +monastic gallantry: the beadle on the steps waves off a gaping world as +they issue forth bridegroom and bridesman recklessly scatter gold on him: +carriage doors are banged to: the coachmen drive off, and the scene +closes, everybody happy. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +And the next moment the bride is weeping as if she would dissolve to one +of Dian's Virgin Fountains from the clasp of the Sun-God. She has nobly +preserved the mask imposed by comedies, till the curtain has fallen, and +now she weeps, streams with tears. Have patience, O impetuous young man! +It is your profession to be a hero. This poor heart is new to it, and +her duties involve such wild acts, such brigandage, such terrors and +tasks, she is quite unnerved. She did you honour till now. Bear with +her now. She does not cry the cry of ordinary maidens in like cases. +While the struggle went on her tender face was brave; but, alas! Omens +are against her: she holds an ever-present dreadful one on that fatal +fourth finger of hers, which has coiled itself round her dream of +delight, and takes her in its clutch like a horrid serpent. And yet she +must love it. She dares not part from it. She must love and hug it, and +feed on its strange honey, and all the bliss it gives her casts all the +deeper shadow on what is to come. + +Say: Is it not enough to cause feminine apprehension, for a woman to be +married in another woman's ring? + +You are amazons, ladies, at Saragossa, and a thousand citadels--wherever +there is strife, and Time is to be taken by the throat. Then shall few +men match your sublime fury. But what if you see a vulture, visible only +to yourselves, hovering over the house you are gaily led by the torch to +inhabit? Will you not crouch and be cowards? + +As for the hero, in the hour of victory he pays no heed to omens. He +does his best to win his darling to confidence by caresses. Is she not +his? Is he not hers? And why, when the battle is won, does she weep? +Does she regret what she has done? + +Oh, never! never! her soft blue eyes assure him, steadfast love seen +swimming on clear depths of faith in them, through the shower. + +He is silenced by her exceeding beauty, and sits perplexed waiting for +the shower to pass. + +Alone with Mrs. Berry, in her bedroom, Lucy gave tongue to her distress, +and a second character in the comedy changed her face. + +"O Mrs. Berry! Mrs. Berry! what has happened! what has happened!" + +"My darlin' child!" The bridal Berry gazed at the finger of doleful joy. +"I'd forgot all about it! And that's what've made me feel so queer ever +since, then! I've been seemin' as if I wasn't myself somehow, without my +ring. Dear! dear! what a wilful young gentleman! We ain't a match for +men in that state--Lord help us!" + +Mrs. Berry sat on the edge of a chair: Lucy on the edge of the bed. + +"What do you think of it, Mrs. Berry? Is it not terrible?" + +"I can't say I should 'a liked it myself, my dear," Mrs. Berry candidly +responded. + +"Oh! why, why, why did it happen!" the young bride bent to a flood of +fresh tears, murmuring that she felt already old--forsaken. + +"Haven't you got a comfort in your religion for all accidents?" Mrs. +Berry inquired. + +"None for this. I know it's wrong to cry when I am so happy. I hope he +will forgive me." + +Mrs. Berry vowed her bride was the sweetest, softest, beautifulest thing +in life. + +"I'll cry no more," said Lucy. "Leave me, Mrs. Berry, and come back when +I ring." + +She drew forth a little silver cross, and fell upon her knees to the bed. +Mrs. Berry left the room tiptoe. + +When she was called to return, Lucy was calm and tearless, and smiled +kindly to her. + +"It's over now," she said. + +Mrs. Berry sedately looked for her ring to follow. + +"He does not wish me to go in to the breakfast you have prepared, Mrs. +Berry. I begged to be excused. I cannot eat." + +Mrs. Berry very much deplored it, as she had laid out a superior nuptial +breakfast, but with her mind on her ring she nodded assentingly. + +"We shall not have much packing to do, Mrs. Berry." + +"No, my dear. It's pretty well all done." + +"We are going to the Isle of Wight, Mrs. Berry." + +"And a very suitable spot ye've chose, my dear!" + +"He loves the sea. He wishes to be near it." + +"Don't ye cross to-night, if it's anyways rough, my dear. It isn't +advisable." Mrs. Berry sank her voice to say, "Don't ye be soft and give +way to him there, or you'll both be repenting it." + +Lucy had only been staving off the unpleasantness she had to speak. She +saw Mrs. Berry's eyes pursuing her ring, and screwed up her courage at +last. + +"Mrs. Berry." + +"Yes, my dear." + +"Mrs. Berry, you shall have another ring." + +"Another, my dear?" Berry did not comprehend. "One's quite enough for +the objeck," she remarked. + +"I mean," Lucy touched her fourth finger, "I cannot part with this." She +looked straight at Mrs. Berry. + +That bewildered creature gazed at her, and at the ring, till she had +thoroughly exhausted the meaning of the words, and then exclaimed, +horror-struck: "Deary me, now! you don't say that? You're to be married +again in your own religion." + +The young wife repeated: "I can never part with it." + +"But, my dear!" the wretched Berry wrung her hands, divided between +compassion and a sense of injury. "My dear!" she kept expostulating like +a mute. + +"I know all that you would say, Mrs. Berry. I am very grieved to pain +you. It is mine now, and must be mine. I cannot give it back." + +There she sat, suddenly developed to the most inflexible little heroine +in the three Kingdoms. + +From her first perception of the meaning of the young bride's words, Mrs. +Berry, a shrewd physiognomist, knew that her case was hopeless, unless +she treated her as she herself had been treated, and seized the ring by +force of arms; and that she had not heart for. + +"What!" she gasped faintly, "one's own lawful wedding-ring you wouldn't +give back to a body?" + +"Because it is mine, Mrs. Berry. It was yours, but it is mine now. You +shall have whatever you ask for but that. Pray, forgive me! It must be +so." + +Mrs. Berry rocked on her chair, and sounded her hands together. It +amazed her that this soft little creature could be thus firm. She tried +argument. + +"Don't ye know, my dear, it's the fatalest thing you're inflictin' upon +me, reelly! Don't ye know that bein' bereft of one's own lawful wedding- +ring's the fatalest thing in life, and there's no prosperity after it! +For what stands in place o' that, when that's gone, my dear? And what +could ye give me to compensate a body for the loss o' that? Don't ye +know--Oh, deary me!" The little bride's face was so set that poor Berry +wailed off in despair. + +"I know it," said Lucy. "I know it all. I know what I do to you. Dear, +dear Mrs. Berry! forgive me! If I parted with my ring I know it would be +fatal." + +So this fair young freebooter took possession of her argument as well as +her ring. + +Berry racked her distracted wits for a further appeal. + +"But, my child," she counter-argued, "you don't understand. It ain't as +you think. It ain't a hurt to you now. Not a bit, it ain't. It makes +no difference now! Any ring does while the wearer's a maid. And your +Mr. Richard will find the very ring he intended for ye. And, of course, +that's the one you'll wear as his wife. It's all the same now, my dear. +It's no shame to a maid. Now do--now do--there's a darlin'!" + +Wheedling availed as little as argument. + +"Mrs. Berry," said Lucy, "you know what my--he spoke: 'With this ring I +thee wed.' It was with this ring. Then how could it be with another?" + +Berry was constrained despondently to acknowledge that was logic. + +She hit upon an artful conjecture: + +"Won't it be unlucky your wearin' of the ring which served me so? Think +o' that!" + +"It may! it may! it may!" cried Lucy. + +"And arn't you rushin' into it, my dear?" + +"Mrs. Berry," Lucy said again, "it was this ring. It cannot--it never +can be another. It was this. What it brings me I must bear. I shall +wear it till I die!" + +"Then what am I to do?" the ill-used woman groaned. "What shall I tell +my husband when he come back to me, and see I've got a new ring waitin' +for him? Won't that be a welcome?" + +Quoth Lucy: "How can he know it is not the same; in a plain gold ring?" + +"You never see so keen a eyed man in joolry as my Berry!" returned his +solitary spouse. "Not know, my dear? Why, any one would know that've +got eyes in his head. There's as much difference in wedding-rings as +there's in wedding people! Now, do pray be reasonable, my own sweet!" + +"Pray, do not ask me," pleads Lucy. + +"Pray, do think better of it," urges Berry. + +"Pray, pray, Mrs. Berry!" pleads Lucy. + +"--And not leave your old Berry all forlorn just when you're so happy!" + +"Indeed I would not, you dear, kind old creature!" Lucy faltered. + +Mrs. Berry thought she had her. + +"Just when you're going to be the happiest wife on earth--all you want +yours!" she pursued the tender strain. "A handsome young gentleman! +Love and Fortune smilin' on ye!"-- + +Lucy rose up. + +"Mrs. Berry," she said, "I think we must not lose time in getting ready, +or he will be impatient." + +Poor Berry surveyed her in abject wonder from the edge of her chair. +Dignity and resolve were in the ductile form she had hitherto folded +under her wing. In an hour the heroine had risen to the measure of the +hero. Without being exactly aware what creature she was dealing with, +Berry acknowledged to herself it was not one of the common run, and +sighed, and submitted. + +"It's like a divorce, that it is!" she sobbed. + +After putting the corners of her apron to her eyes, Berry bustled humbly +about the packing. Then Lucy, whose heart was full to her, came and +kissed her, and Berry bumped down and regularly cried. This over, she +had recourse to fatalism. + +"I suppose it was to be, my dear! It's my punishment for meddlin' wi' +such matters. No, I'm not sorry. Bless ye both. Who'd 'a thought you +was so wilful?--you that any one might have taken for one of the silly- +softs! You're a pair, my dear! indeed you are! You was made to meet! +But we mustn't show him we've been crying.--Men don't like it when +they're happy. Let's wash our faces and try to bear our lot." + +So saying the black-satin bunch careened to a renewed deluge. She +deserved some sympathy, for if it is sad to be married in another +person's ring, how much sadder to have one's own old accustomed lawful +ring violently torn off one's finger and eternally severed from one! But +where you have heroes and heroines, these terrible complications ensue. + +They had now both fought their battle of the ring, and with equal honour +and success. + +In the chamber of banquet Richard was giving Ripton his last directions. +Though it was a private wedding, Mrs. Berry had prepared a sumptuous +breakfast. Chickens offered their breasts: pies hinted savoury secrets: +things mystic, in a mash, with Gallic appellatives, jellies, creams, +fruits, strewed the table: as a tower in the midst, the cake colossal: +the priestly vesture of its nuptial white relieved by hymeneal +splendours. + +Many hours, much labour and anxiety of mind, Mrs. Berry had expended upon +this breakfast, and why? There is one who comes to all feasts that have +their basis in Folly, whom criminals of trained instinct are careful to +provide against: who will speak, and whose hateful voice must somehow be +silenced while the feast is going on. This personage is The Philosopher. +Mrs. Berry knew him. She knew that he would come. She provided against +him in the manner she thought most efficacious: that is, by cheating her +eyes and intoxicating her conscience with the due and proper glories +incident to weddings where fathers dilate, mothers collapse, and marriage +settlements are flourished on high by the family lawyer: and had there +been no show of the kind to greet her on her return from the church, she +would, and she foresaw she would, have stared at squalor and emptiness, +and repented her work. The Philosopher would have laid hold of her by +the ear, and called her bad names. Entrenched behind a breakfast-table +so legitimately adorned, Mrs. Berry defied him. In the presence of that +cake he dared not speak above a whisper. And there were wines to drown +him in, should he still think of protesting; fiery wines, and cool: +claret sent purposely by the bridegroom for the delectation of his +friend. + +For one good hour, therefore, the labour of many hours kept him dumb. +Ripton was fortifying himself so as to forget him altogether, and the +world as well, till the next morning. Ripton was excited, overdone with +delight. He had already finished one bottle, and listened, pleasantly +flushed, to his emphatic and more abstemious chief. He had nothing to do +but to listen, and to drink. The hero would not allow him to shout +Victory! or hear a word of toasts; and as, from the quantity of oil +poured on it, his eloquence was becoming a natural force in his bosom, +the poor fellow was afflicted with a sort of elephantiasis of suppressed +emotion. At times he half-rose from his chair, and fell vacuously into +it again; or he chuckled in the face of weighty, severely-worded +instructions; tapped his chest, stretched his arms, yawned, and in short +behaved so singularly that Richard observed it, and said: "On my soul, I +don't think you know a word I'm saying." + +"Every word, Ricky!" Ripton spirted through the opening. "I'm going down +to your governor, and tell him: Sir Austin! Here's your only chance of +being a happy father--no, no!--Oh! don't you fear me, Ricky! I shall +talk the old gentleman over." + +His chief said: + +"Look here. You had better not go down to-night. Go down the first +thing to-morrow, by the six o'clock train. Give him my letter. Listen +to me--give him my letter, and don't speak a word till he speaks. His +eyebrows will go up and down, he won't say much. I know him. If he asks +you about her, don't be a fool, but say what you think of her sensibly"-- + +No cork could hold in Ripton when she was alluded to. He shouted: "She's +an angel!" + +Richard checked him: "Speak sensibly, I say--quietly. You can say how +gentle and good she is--my fleur-de-luce! And say, this was not her +doing. If any one's to blame, it's I. I made her marry me. Then go to +Lady Blandish, if you don't find her at the house. You may say whatever +you please to her. Give her my letter, and tell her I want to hear from +her immediately. She has seen Lucy, and I know what she thinks of her. +You will then go to Farmer Blaize. I told you Lucy happens to be his +niece--she has not lived long there. She lived with her aunt Desborough +in France while she was a child, and can hardly be called a relative to +the farmer--there's not a point of likeness between them. Poor darling! +she never knew her mother. Go to Mr. Blaize, and tell him. You will +treat him just as you would treat any other gentleman. If you are civil, +he is sure to be. And if he abuses me, for my sake and hers you will +still treat him with respect. You hear? And then write me a full +account of all that has been said and done. You will have my address the +day after to-morrow. By the way, Tom will be here this afternoon. Write +out for him where to call on you the day after to-morrow, in case you +have heard anything in the morning you think I ought to know at once, as +Tom will join me that night. Don't mention to anybody about my losing +the ring, Ripton. I wouldn't have Adrian get hold of that for a thousand +pounds. How on earth I came to lose it! How well she bore it, Rip! How +beautifully she behaved!" + +Ripton again shouted: "An angel!" Throwing up the heels of his second +bottle, he said: + +"You may trust your friend, Richard. Aha! when you pulled at old Mrs. +Berry I didn't know what was up. I do wish you'd let me drink her +health?" + +"Here's to Penelope!" said Richard, just wetting his mouth. The carriage +was at the door: a couple of dire organs, each grinding the same tune, +and a vulture-scented itinerant band (from which not the secretest veiled +wedding can escape) worked harmoniously without in the production of +discord, and the noise acting on his nervous state made him begin to fume +and send in messages for his bride by the maid. + +By and by the lovely young bride presented herself dressed for her +journey, and smiling from stained eyes. + +Mrs. Berry was requested to drink some wine, which Ripton poured out for +her, enabling Mrs. Berry thereby to measure his condition. + +The bride now kissed Mrs. Berry, and Mrs. Berry kissed the bridegroom, on +the plea of her softness. Lucy gave Ripton her hand, with a musical +"Good-bye, Mr. Thompson," and her extreme graciousness made him just +sensible enough to sit down before he murmured his fervent hopes for her +happiness. + +"I shall take good care of him," said Mrs. Berry, focussing her eyes to +the comprehension of the company. + +"Farewell, Penelope!" cried Richard. "I shall tell the police everywhere +to look out for your lord." + +"Oh my dears! good-bye, and Heaven bless ye both!" + +Berry quavered, touched with compunction at the thoughts of approaching +loneliness. Ripton, his mouth drawn like a bow to his ears, brought up +the rear to the carriage, receiving a fair slap on the cheek from an old +shoe precipitated by Mrs. Berry's enthusiastic female domestic. + +White handkerchiefs were waved, the adieux had fallen to signs: they were +off. Then did a thought of such urgency illumine Mrs. Berry, that she +telegraphed, hand in air; awakening Ripton's lungs, for the coachman to +stop, and ran back to the house. Richard chafed to be gone, but at his +bride's intercession he consented to wait. Presently they beheld the old +black-satin bunch stream through the street-door, down the bit of garden, +and up the astonished street; halting, panting, capless at the carriage +door, a book in her hand,--a much-used, dog-leaved, steamy, greasy book, +which; at the same time calling out in breathless jerks, "There! never ye +mind looks! I ain't got a new one. Read it, and don't ye forget it!" +she discharged into Lucy's lap, and retreated to the railings, a signal +for the coachman to drive away for good. + +How Richard laughed at the Berry's bridal gift! Lucy, too, lost the omen +at her heart as she glanced at the title of the volume. It was Dr. +Kitchener on Domestic Cookery! + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +General withdrawing of heads from street-windows, emigration of organs +and bands, and a relaxed atmosphere in the circle of Mrs. Berry's abode, +proved that Dan Cupid had veritably flown to suck the life of fresh +regions. With a pensive mind she grasped Ripton's arm to regulate his +steps, and returned to the room where her creditor awaited her. In the +interval he had stormed her undefended fortress, the cake, from which +altitude he shook a dolorous head at the guilty woman. She smoothed her +excited apron, sighing. Let no one imagine that she regretted her +complicity. She was ready to cry torrents, but there must be absolute +castigation before this criminal shall conceive the sense of regret; and +probably then she will cling to her wickedness the more--such is the born +Pagan's tenacity! Mrs. Berry sighed, and gave him back his shake of the +head. O you wanton, improvident creature! said he. O you very wise old +gentleman! said she. He asked her the thing she had been doing. She +enlightened him with the fatalist's reply. He sounded a bogey's alarm of +contingent grave results. She retreated to the entrenched camp of the +fact she had helped to make. + +"It's done!" she exclaimed. How could she regret what she felt comfort +to know was done? Convinced that events alone could stamp a mark on such +stubborn flesh, he determined to wait for them, and crouched silent on +the cake, with one finger downwards at Ripton's incision there, showing a +crumbling chasm and gloomy rich recess. + +The eloquent indication was understood. "Dear! dear!" cried Mrs. Berry, +"what a heap o' cake, and no one to send it to!" + +Ripton had resumed his seat by the table and his embrace of the claret. +Clear ideas of satisfaction had left him and resolved to a boiling geysir +of indistinguishable transports. He bubbled, and waggled, and nodded +amicably to nothing, and successfully, though not without effort, +preserved his uppermost member from the seductions of the nymph, +Gravitation, who was on the look-out for his whole length shortly. + +"Ha! ha!" he shouted, about a minute after Mrs. Berry had spoken, and +almost abandoned himself to the nymph on the spot. Mrs. Berry's words +had just reached his wits. + +"Why do you laugh, young man?" she inquired, familiar and motherly on +account of his condition. + +Ripton laughed louder, and caught his chest on the edge of the table and +his nose on a chicken. "That's goo'!" he said, recovering, and rocking +under Mrs. Berry's eyes. "No friend!" + +"I did not say, no friend," she remarked. "I said, no one; meanin', I +know not where for to send it to." + +Ripton's response to this was: You put a Griffin on that cake. +Wheatsheaves each side." + +"His crest?" Mrs. Berry said sweetly. + +"Oldest baronetcy 'n England!" waved Ripton. + +"Yes?" Mrs. Berry encouraged him on. + +"You think he's Richards. We're oblige' be very close. And she's the +most lovely!--If I hear man say thing 'gainst her." + +"You needn't for to cry over her, young man," said Mrs. Berry. "I wanted +for to drink their right healths by their right names, and then go about +my day's work, and I do hope you won't keep me." + +Ripton stood bolt upright at her words. + +"You do?" he said, and filling a bumper he with cheerfully vinous +articulation and glibness of tongue proposed the health of Richard and +Lucy Feverel, of Raynham Abbey! and that mankind should not require an +expeditious example of the way to accept the inspiring toast, he drained +his bumper at a gulp. It finished him. The farthing rushlight of his +reason leapt and expired. He tumbled to the sofa and there stretched. + +Some minutes subsequent to Ripton's signalization of his devotion to the +bridal pair, Mrs. Berry's maid entered the room to say that a gentleman +was inquiring below after the young gentleman who had departed, and found +her mistress with a tottering wineglass in her hand, exhibiting every +symptom of unconsoled hysterics. Her mouth gaped, as if the fell +creditor had her by the swallow. She ejaculated with horrible exultation +that she had been and done it, as her disastrous aspect seemed to +testify, and her evident, but inexplicable, access of misery induced the +sympathetic maid to tender those caressing words that were all Mrs. Berry +wanted to go off into the self-caressing fit without delay; and she had +already given the preluding demoniac ironic outburst, when the maid +called heaven to witness that the gentleman would hear her; upon which +Mrs. Berry violently controlled her bosom, and ordered that he should be +shown upstairs instantly to see her the wretch she was. She repeated the +injunction. + +The maid did as she was told, and Mrs. Berry, wishing first to see +herself as she was, mutely accosted the looking-glass, and tried to look +a very little better. She dropped a shawl on Ripton and was settled, +smoothing her agitation when her visitor was announced. + +The gentleman was Adrian Harley. An interview with Tom Bakewell had put +him on the track, and now a momentary survey of the table, and its white- +vestured cake, made him whistle. + +Mrs. Berry plaintively begged him to do her the favour to be seated. + +"A fine morning, ma'am," said Adrian. + +"It have been!" Mrs. Berry answered, glancing over her shoulder at the +window, and gulping as if to get her heart down from her mouth. + +"A very fine Spring," pursued Adrian, calmly anatomizing her countenance. + +Mrs. Berry smothered an adjective to "weather" on a deep sigh. Her +wretchedness was palpable. In proportion to it, Adrian waned cheerful +and brisk. He divined enough of the business to see that there was some +strange intelligence to be fished out of the culprit who sat compressing +hysterics before him; and as he was never more in his element than when +he had a sinner, and a repentant prostrate abject sinner in hand, his +affable countenance might well deceive poor Berry. + +"I presume these are Mr. Thompson's lodgings?" he remarked, with a look +at the table. + +Mrs. Berry's head and the whites of her eyes informed him that they were +not Mr. Thompson's lodgings. + +"No?" said Adrian, and threw a carelessly inquisitive eye about him. +"Mr. Feverel is out, I suppose?" + +A convulsive start at the name, and two corroborating hands dropped on +her knees, formed Mrs. Berry's reply. + +"Mr. Feverel's man," continued Adrian, "told me I should be certain to +find him here. I thought he would be with his friend, Mr. Thompson. I'm +too late, I perceive. Their entertainment is over. I fancy you have +been having a party of them here, ma'am?--a bachelors' breakfast!" + +In the presence of that cake this observation seemed to mask an irony so +shrewd that Mrs. Berry could barely contain herself. She felt she must +speak. Making her face as deplorably propitiating as she could, she +began: + +"Sir, may I beg for to know your name?" + +Mr. Harley accorded her request. + +Groaning in the clutch of a pitiless truth, she continued: + +"And you are Mr. Harley, that was--oh! and you've come for +Mr.?"-- + +Mr. Richard Feverel was the gentleman Mr. Harley had come for. + +"Oh! and it's no mistake, and he's of Raynham Abbey?" Mrs. Berry +inquired. + +Adrian, very much amused, assured her that he was born and bred there. + +"His father's Sir Austin?" wailed the black-satin bunch from behind her +handkerchief. + +Adrian verified Richard's descent. + +"Oh, then, what have I been and done!" she cried, and stared blankly at +her visitor. "I been and married my baby! I been and married the bread +out of my own mouth. O Mr. Harley! Mr. Harley! I knew you when you was +a boy that big, and wore jackets; and all of you. And it's my softness +that's my ruin, for I never can resist a man's asking. Look at that +cake, Mr. Harley!" + +Adrian followed her directions quite coolly. "Wedding-cake, ma'am!" he +said. + +"Bride-cake it is, Mr. Harley!" + +"Did you make it yourself, ma'am?" + +The quiet ease of the question overwhelmed Mrs. Berry and upset that +train of symbolic representations by which she was seeking to make him +guess the catastrophe and spare her the furnace of confession. + +"I did not make it myself, Mr. Harley," she replied. "It's a bought +cake, and I'm a lost woman. Little I dreamed when I had him in my arms a +baby that I should some day be marrying him out of my own house! I +little dreamed that! Oh, why did he come to me! Don't you remember his +old nurse, when he was a baby in arms, that went away so sudden, and no +fault of hers, Mr. Harley! The very mornin' after the night you got into +Mr. Benson's cellar, and got so tipsy on his Madeary--I remember it as +clear as yesterday!--and Mr. Benson was that angry he threatened to use +the whip to you, and I helped put you to bed. I'm that very woman." + +Adrian smiled placidly at these reminiscences of his guileless youthful +life. + +"Well, ma'am! well?" he said. He would bring her to the furnace. + +"Won't you see it all, kind sir?" Mrs. Berry appealed to him in pathetic +dumb show. + +Doubtless by this time Adrian did see it all, and was mentally cursing at +Folly, and reckoning the immediate consequences, but he looked +uninstructed, his peculiar dimple-smile was undisturbed, his comfortable +full-bodied posture was the same. "Well, ma'am?" he spurred her on. + +Mrs. Berry burst forth: "It were done this mornin', Mr. Harley, in the +church, at half-past eleven of the clock, or twenty to, by licence." + +Adrian was now obliged to comprehend a case of matrimony. "Oh!" he +said, like one who is as hard as facts, and as little to be moved: +"Somebody was married this morning; was it Mr. Thompson, or Mr. Feverel?" + +Mrs. Berry shuffled up to Ripton, and removed the shawl from him, saying: +"Do he look like a new married bridegroom, Mr. Harley?" + +Adrian inspected the oblivious Ripton with philosophic gravity. + +"This young gentleman was at church this morning?" he asked. + +"Oh! quite reasonable and proper then," Mrs. Berry begged him to +understand. + +"Of course, ma'am." Adrian lifted and let fall the stupid inanimate +limbs of the gone wretch, puckering his mouth queerly. "You were all +reasonable and proper, ma'am. The principal male performer, then, is my +cousin, Mr. Feverel? He was married by you, this morning, by licence at +your parish church, and came here, and ate a hearty breakfast, and left +intoxicated." + +Mrs. Berry flew out. "He never drink a drop, sir. A more moderate young +gentleman you never see. Oh! don't ye think that now, Mr. Harley. He +was as upright and master of his mind as you be." + +"Ay!" the wise youth nodded thanks to her for the comparison, "I mean the +other form of intoxication." + +Mrs. Berry sighed. She could say nothing on that score. + +Adrian desired her to sit down, and compose herself, and tell him +circumstantially what had been done. + +She obeyed, in utter perplexity at his perfectly composed demeanour. + +Mrs. Berry, as her recital declared, was no other than that identical +woman who once in old days had dared to behold the baronet behind his +mask, and had ever since lived in exile from the Raynham world on a +little pension regularly paid to her as an indemnity. She was that +woman, and the thought of it made her almost accuse Providence for the +betraying excess of softness it had endowed her with. How was she to +recognize her baby grown a man? He came in a feigned name; not a word of +the family was mentioned. He came like an ordinary mortal, though she +felt something more than ordinary to him--she knew she did. He came +bringing a beautiful young lady, and on what grounds could she turn her +back on them? Why, seeing that all was chaste and legal, why should she +interfere to make them unhappy--so few the chances of happiness in this +world! Mrs. Berry related the seizure of her ring. + +"One wrench," said the sobbing culprit, "one, and my ring was off!" + +She had no suspicions, and the task of writing her name in the vestry- +book had been too enacting for a thought upon the other signatures. + +"I daresay you were exceedingly sorry for what you had done," said +Adrian. + +"Indeed, sir," moaned Berry, "I were, and am." + +"And would do your best to rectify the mischief--eh, ma'am?" + +"Indeed, and indeed, sir, I would," she protested solemnly. + +"--As, of course, you should--knowing the family. Where may these +lunatics have gone to spend the Moon?" + +Mrs. Berry swimmingly replied: "To the Isle--I don't quite know, sir!" +she snapped the indication short, and jumped out of the pit she had +fallen into. Repentant as she might be, those dears should not be +pursued and cruelly balked of their young bliss! "To-morrow, if you +please, Mr. Harley: not to-day!" + +"A pleasant spot," Adrian observed, smiling at his easy prey. + +By a measurement of dates he discovered that the bridegroom had brought +his bride to the house on the day he had quitted Raynham, and this was +enough to satisfy Adrian's mind that there had been concoction and +chicanery. Chance, probably, had brought him to the old woman: chance +certainly had not brought him to the young one. + +"Very well, ma'am," he said, in answer to her petitions for his +favourable offices with Sir Austin in behalf of her little pension and +the bridal pair, "I will tell him you were only a blind agent in the +affair, being naturally soft, and that you trust he will bless the +consummation. He will be in town +to-morrow morning; but one of you two must see him to-night. An emetic +kindly administered will set our friend here on his legs. A bath and a +clean shirt, and he might go. I don't see why your name should appear at +all. Brush him up, and send him to Bellingham by the seven o'clock +train. He will find his way to Raynham; he knows the neighbourhood best +in the dark. Let him go and state the case. Remember, one of you must +go." + +With this fair prospect of leaving a choice of a perdition between the +couple of unfortunates, for them to fight and lose all their virtues +over, Adrian said, "Good morning." + +Mrs. Berry touchingly arrested him. "You won't refuse a piece of his +cake, Mr. Harley?" + +"Oh, dear, no, ma'am," Adrian turned to the cake with alacrity. "I shall +claim a very large piece. Richard has a great many friends who will +rejoice to eat his wedding-cake. Cut me a fair quarter, Mrs. Berry. Put +it in paper, if you please. I shall be delighted to carry it to them, +and apportion it equitably according to their several degrees of +relationship." + +Mrs. Berry cut the cake. Somehow, as she sliced through it, the +sweetness and hapless innocence of the bride was presented to her, and +she launched into eulogies of Lucy, and clearly showed how little she +regretted her conduct. She vowed that they seemed made for each other; +that both, were beautiful; both had spirit; both were innocent; and to +part them, or make them unhappy, would be, Mrs. Berry wrought herself to +cry aloud, oh, such a pity! + +Adrian listened to it as the expression of a matter-of-fact opinion. He +took the huge quarter of cake, nodded multitudinous promises, and left +Mrs. Berry to bless his good heart. + +"So dies the System!" was Adrian's comment in the street. "And now let +prophets roar! He dies respectably in a marriage-bed, which is more than +I should have foretold of the monster. Meantime," he gave the cake a +dramatic tap, "I'll go sow nightmares." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +Adrian really bore the news he had heard with creditable +disinterestedness, and admirable repression of anything beneath the +dignity of a philosopher. When one has attained that felicitous point of +wisdom from which one sees all mankind to be fools, the diminutive +objects may make what new moves they please, one does not marvel at them: +their sedateness is as comical as their frolic, and their frenzies more +comical still. On this intellectual eminence the wise youth had built +his castle, and he had lived in it from an early period. Astonishment +never shook the foundations, nor did envy of greater heights tempt him to +relinquish the security of his stronghold, for he saw none. Jugglers he +saw running up ladders that overtopped him, and air-balloons scaling the +empyrean; but the former came precipitately down again, and the latter +were at the mercy of the winds; while he remained tranquil on his solid +unambitious ground, fitting his morality to the laws, his conscience to +his morality, his comfort to his conscience. Not that voluntarily he cut +himself off from his fellows: on the contrary, his sole amusement was +their society. Alone he was rather dull, as a man who beholds but one +thing must naturally be. Study of the animated varieties of that one +thing excited him sufficiently to think life a pleasant play; and the +faculties he had forfeited to hold his elevated position he could +serenely enjoy by contemplation of them in others. Thus:--wonder at +Master Richard's madness: though he himself did not experience it, he was +eager to mark the effect on his beloved relatives. As he carried along +his vindictive hunch of cake, he shaped out their different attitudes of +amaze, bewilderment, horror; passing by some personal chagrin in the +prospect. For his patron had projected a journey, commencing with Paris, +culminating on the Alps, and lapsing in Rome: a delightful journey to +show Richard the highways of History and tear him from the risk of +further ignoble fascinations, that his spirit might be altogether bathed +in freshness and revived. This had been planned during Richard's absence +to surprise him. + +Now the dream of travel was to Adrian what the love of woman is to the +race of young men. It supplanted that foolishness. It was his Romance, +as we say; that buoyant anticipation on which in youth we ride the airs, +and which, as we wax older and too heavy for our atmosphere, hardens to +the Hobby, which, if an obstinate animal, is a safer horse, and conducts +man at a slower pace to the sexton. Adrian had never travelled. He was +aware that his romance was earthly and had discomforts only to be evaded +by the one potent talisman possessed by his patron. His Alp would hardly +be grand to him without an obsequious landlord in the foreground: he must +recline on Mammon's imperial cushions in order to moralize becomingly on +the ancient world. The search for pleasure at the expense of discomfort, +as frantic lovers woo their mistresses to partake the shelter of a but +and batten on a crust, Adrian deemed the bitterness of beggarliness. Let +his sweet mistress be given him in the pomp and splendour due to his +superior emotions, or not at all. Consequently the wise youth had long +nursed an ineffectual passion, and it argued a great nature in him, that +at the moment when his wishes were to be crowned, he should look with +such slight touches of spleen at the gorgeous composite fabric of +Parisian cookery and Roman antiquities crumbling into unsubstantial +mockery. Assuredly very few even of the philosophers would have turned +away uncomplainingly to meaner delights the moment after. + +Hippias received the first portion of the cake. + +He was sitting by the window in his hotel, reading. He had fought down +his breakfast with more than usual success, and was looking forward to +his dinner at the Foreys' with less than usual timidity. + +"Ah! glad you've come, Adrian," he said, and expanded his chest. "I was +afraid I should have to ride down. This is kind of you. We'll walk down +together through the park. It's absolutely dangerous to walk alone in +these streets. My opinion is, that orange-peel lasts all through the +year now, and will till legislation puts a stop to it. I give you my +word I slipped on a piece of orange-peel yesterday afternoon in +Piccadilly, and I thought I was down! I saved myself by a miracle." + +"You have an appetite, I hope?" asked Adrian. + +"I think I shall get one, after a bit of a walk," chirped Hippias. "Yes. +I think I feel hungry now." + +"Charmed to hear it," said Adrian, and began unpinning his parcel on his +knees. "How should you define Folly?" he checked the process to inquire. + +"Hm!" Hippias meditated; he prided himself on being oracular when such +questions were addressed to him. "I think I should define it to be a +slide." + +"Very good definition. In other words, a piece of orange-peel; once on +it, your life and limbs are in danger, and you are saved by a miracle. +You must present that to the Pilgrim. And the monument of folly, what +would that be?" + +Hippias meditated anew. "All the human race on one another's shoulders." +He chuckled at the sweeping sourness of the instance. + +"Very good," Adrian applauded, "or in default of that, some symbol of the +thing, say; such as this of which I have here brought you a chip." + +Adrian displayed the quarter of the cake. + +"This is the monument made portable--eh?" + +"Cake!" cried Hippias, retreating to his chair to dramatize his intense +disgust. "You're right of them that eat it. If I--if I don't mistake," +he peered at it, "the noxious composition bedizened in that way is what +they call wedding-cake. It's arrant poison! Who is it you want to kill? +What are you carrying such stuff about for?" + +Adrian rang the bell for a knife. "To present you with your due and +proper portion. You will have friends and relatives, and can't be saved +from them, not even by miracle. It is a habit which exhibits, perhaps, +the unconscious inherent cynicism of the human mind, for people who +consider that they have reached the acme of mundane felicity, to +distribute this token of esteem to their friends, with the object +probably" (he took the knife from a waiter and went to the table to slice +the cake) "of enabling those friends (these edifices require very +delicate incision--each particular currant and subtle condiment hangs to +its neighbour--a wedding-cake is evidently the most highly civilized of +cakes, and partakes of the evils as well as the advantages of +civilization!)--I was saying, they send us these love-tokens, no doubt +(we shall have to weigh out the crumbs, if each is to have his fair +share) that we may the better estimate their state of bliss by passing +some hours in purgatory. This, as far as I can apportion it without +weights and scales, is your share, my uncle!" + +He pushed the corner of the table bearing the cake towards Hippias. + +"Get away!" Hippias vehemently motioned, and started from his chair. +"I'll have none of it, I tell you! It's death! It's fifty times worse +than that beastly compound Christmas pudding! What fool has been doing +this, then? Who dares send me cake? Me! It's an insult." + +"You are not compelled to eat any before dinner," said Adrian, pointing +the corner of the table after him, "but your share you must take, and +appear to consume. One who has done so much to bring about the marriage +cannot in conscience refuse his allotment of the fruits. Maidens, I +hear, first cook it under their pillows, and extract nuptial dreams +therefrom--said to be of a lighter class, taken that way. It's a capital +cake, and, upon my honour, you have helped to make it--you have indeed! +So here it is." + +The table again went at Hippias. He ran nimbly round it, and flung +himself on a sofa exhausted, crying: "There!... My appetite's gone for +to-day!" + +"Then shall I tell Richard that you won't touch a morsel of his cake?" +said Adrian, leaning on his two hands over the table and looking at his +uncle. + +"Richard?" + +"Yes, your nephew: my cousin: Richard! Your companion since you've been +in town. He's married, you know. Married this morning at Kensington +parish church, by licence, at half-past eleven of the clock, or twenty +to. Married, and gone to spend his honeymoon in the Isle of Wight, a +very delectable place for a month's residence. I have to announce to you +that, thanks to your assistance, the experiment is launched, sir!" + +"Richard married!" + +There was something to think and to say in objection to it, but the wits +of poor Hippias were softened by the shock. His hand travelled half-way +to his forehead, spread out to smooth the surface of that seat of reason, +and then fell. + +"Surely you knew all about it? you were so anxious to have him in town +under your charge...." + +"Married?" Hippias jumped up--he had it. "Why, he's under age! he's an +infant." + +"So he is. But the infant is not the less married. Fib like a man and +pay your fee--what does it matter? Any one who is breeched can obtain a +licence in our noble country. And the interests of morality demand that +it should not be difficult. Is it true--can you persuade anybody that +you have known nothing about it?" + +"Ha! infamous joke! I wish, sir, you would play your pranks on somebody +else," said Hippias, sternly, as he sank back on the sofa. "You've done +me up for the day, I can assure you." + +Adrian sat down to instil belief by gentle degrees, and put an artistic +finish to the work. He had the gratification of passing his uncle +through varied contortions, and at last Hippias perspired in conviction, +and exclaimed, "This accounts for his conduct to me. That boy must have +a cunning nothing short of infernal! I feel...I feel it just here, he +drew a hand along his midriff. + +"I'm not equal to this world of fools," he added faintly, and shut his +eyes. "No, I can't dine. Eat? ha!...no. Go without me!" + +Shortly after, Hippias went to bed, saying to himself, as he undressed, +"See what comes of our fine schemes! Poor Austin!" and as the pillow +swelled over his ears, "I'm not sure that a day's fast won't do me good." +The Dyspepsy had bought his philosophy at a heavy price; he had a right +to use it. + +Adrian resumed the procession of the cake. + +He sighted his melancholy uncle Algernon hunting an appetite in the Row, +and looking as if the hope ahead of him were also one-legged. The +Captain did not pass with out querying the ungainly parcel. + +"I hope I carry it ostentatiously enough?" said Adrian. + +"Enclosed is wherewithal to quiet the alarm of the land. Now may the +maids and wives of Merry England sleep secure. I had half a mind to fix +it on a pole, and engage a band to parade it. This is our dear Richard's +wedding-cake. Married at half-past eleven this morning, by licence, at +the Kensington parish church; his own ring being lost he employed the +ring of his beautiful bride's lachrymose land-lady, she standing adjacent +by the altar. His farewell to you as a bachelor, and hers as a maid, you +can claim on the spot if you think proper, and digest according to your +powers." + +Algernon let off steam in a whistle. "Thompson, the solicitor's +daughter!" he said. "I met them the other day, somewhere about here. He +introduced me to her. A pretty little baggage. + +"No." Adrian set him right. "'Tis a Miss Desborough, a Roman Catholic +dairymaid. Reminds one of pastoral England in the time of the +Plantagenets! He's quite equal to introducing her as Thompson's +daughter, and himself as Beelzebub's son. However, the wild animal is in +Hymen's chains, and the cake is cut. Will you have your morsel?" + +"Oh, by all means!--not now." Algernon had an unwonted air of +reflection.--" Father know it?" + +"Not yet. He will to-night by nine o'clock." + +"Then I must see him by seven. Don't say you met me." He nodded, and +pricked his horse. + +"Wants money!" said Adrian, putting the combustible he carried once more +in motion. + +The women were the crowning joy of his contemplative mind. He had +reserved them for his final discharge. Dear demonstrative creatures! +Dyspepsia would not weaken their poignant outcries, or self-interest +check their fainting fits. On the generic woman one could calculate. +Well might The Pilgrim's Scrip say of her that, "She is always at +Nature's breast"; not intending it as a compliment. Each woman is Eve +throughout the ages; whereas the Pilgrim would have us believe that the +Adam in men has become warier, if not wiser; and weak as he is, has +learnt a lesson from time. Probably the Pilgrim's meaning may be taken +to be, that Man grows, and Woman does not. + +At any rate, Adrian hoped for such natural choruses as you hear in the +nursery when a bauble is lost. He was awake to Mrs. Doria's maternal +predestinations, and guessed that Clare stood ready with the best form of +filial obedience. They were only a poor couple to gratify his +Mephistophelian humour, to be sure, but Mrs. Doria was equal to twenty, +and they would proclaim the diverse ways with which maidenhood and +womanhood took disappointment, while the surrounding Forey girls and +other females of the family assembly were expected to develop the finer +shades and tapering edges of an agitation to which no woman could be +cold. + +All went well. He managed cleverly to leave the cake unchallenged in a +conspicuous part of the drawing-room, and stepped gaily down to dinner. +Much of the conversation adverted to Richard. Mrs. Doria asked him if he +had seen the youth, or heard of him. + +"Seen him? no! Heard of him? yes!" said Adrian. "I have heard of him. +I heard that he was sublimely happy, and had eaten such a breakfast that +dinner was impossible; claret and cold chicken, cake and"-- + +"Cake at breakfast!" they all interjected., + +"That seems to be his fancy just now." + +"What an extraordinary taste!" + +"You know, he is educated on a System." + +One fast young male Forey allied the System and the cake in a miserable +pun. Adrian, a hater of puns, looked at him, and held the table silent, +as if he were going to speak; but he said nothing, and the young +gentleman vanished from the conversation in a blush, extinguished by his +own spark. + +Mrs. Doria peevishly exclaimed, "Oh! fish-cake, I suppose! I wish he +understood a little better the obligations of relationship." + +"Whether he understands them, I can't say," observed Adrian, "but I +assure you he is very energetic in extending them." + +The wise youth talked innuendoes whenever he had an opportunity, that his +dear relative might be rendered sufficiently inflammable by and by at the +aspect of the cake; but he was not thought more than commonly mysterious +and deep. + +"Was his appointment at the house of those Grandison people?" Mrs. Doria +asked, with a hostile upper-lip. + +Adrian warmed the blindfolded parties by replying, "Do they keep a beadle +at the door?" + +Mrs. Doria's animosity to Mrs. Grandison made her treat this as a piece +of satirical ingenuousness. "I daresay they do," she said. + +"And a curate on hand?" + +"Oh, I should think a dozen!" + +Old Mr. Forey advised his punning grandson Clarence to give that house a +wide berth, where he might be disposed of and dished-up at a moment's +notice, and the scent ran off at a jest. + +The Foreys gave good dinners, and with the old gentleman the excellent +old fashion remained in permanence of trooping off the ladies as soon as +they had taken their sustenance and just exchanged a smile with the +flowers and the dessert, when they rose to fade with a beautiful accord, +and the gallant males breathed under easier waistcoats, and settled to +the business of the table, sure that an hour for unbosoming and imbibing +was their own. Adrian took a chair by Brandon Forey, a barrister of +standing. + +"I want to ask you," he said, "whether an infant in law can legally bind +himself." + +"If he's old enough to affix his signature to an instrument, I suppose he +can," yawned Brandon. + +"Is he responsible for his acts?" + +"I've no doubt we could hang him." + +"Then what he could do for himself, you could do for him?" + +"Not quite so much; pretty near." + +"For instance, he can marry?" + +"That's not a criminal case, you know." + +"And the marriage is valid?" + +"You can dispute it." + +"Yes, and the Greeks and the Trojans can fight. It holds then?" + +"Both water and fire!" + +The patriarch of the table sang out to Adrian that he stopped the +vigorous circulation of the claret. + +"Dear me, sir!" said Adrian, "I beg pardon. The circumstances must +excuse me. The fact is, my cousin Richard got married to a dairymaid +this morning, and I wanted to know whether it held in law." + +It was amusing to watch the manly coolness with which the announcement +was taken. Nothing was heard more energetic than, "Deuce he has!" and, +"A dairymaid!" + +"I thought it better to let the ladies dine in peace," Adrian continued. +"I wanted to be able to console my aunt"-- + +"Well, but--well, but," the old gentleman, much the most excited, puffed- +-"eh, Brandon? He's a boy, this young ass! Do you mean to tell me a boy +can go and marry when he pleases, and any troll he pleases, and the +marriage is good? If I thought that I'd turn every woman off my +premises. I would! from the housekeeper to the scullery-maid. I'd have +no woman near him till--till"-- + +"Till the young greenhorn was grey, sir?" suggested Brandon. + +"Till he knew what women are made of, sir!" the old gentleman finished +his sentence vehemently. "What, d'ye think, will Feverel say to it, Mr. +Adrian?" + +"He has been trying the very System you have proposed sir--one that does +not reckon on the powerful action of curiosity on the juvenile +intelligence. I'm afraid it's the very worst way of solving the +problem." + +"Of course it is," said Clarence. "None but a fool!"-- + +"At your age," Adrian relieved his embarrassment, "it is natural, my dear +Clarence, that you should consider the idea of an isolated or imprisoned +manhood something monstrous, and we do not expect you to see what amount +of wisdom it contains. You follow one extreme, and we the other. I +don't say that a middle course exists. The history of mankind shows our +painful efforts to find one, but they have invariably resolved themselves +into asceticism, or laxity, acting and reacting. The moral question is, +if a naughty little man, by reason of his naughtiness, releases himself +from foolishness, does a foolish little man, by reason of his +foolishness, save himself from naughtiness?" + +A discussion, peculiar to men of the world, succeeded the laugh at Mr. +Clarence. Then coffee was handed round and the footman informed Adrian, +in a low voice, that Mrs. Doria Forey particularly wished to speak with +him. Adrian preferred not to go in alone. "Very well," he said, and +sipped his coffee. They talked on, sounding the depths of law in Brandon +Forey, and receiving nought but hollow echoes from that profound cavity. +He would not affirm that the marriage was invalid: he would not affirm +that it could not be annulled. He thought not: still he thought it would +be worth trying. A consummated and a non-consummated union were two +different things.... + +"Dear me!" said Adrian, "does the Law recognize that? Why, that's almost +human!" + +Another message was brought to Adrian that Mrs. Doria Forey very +particularly wished to speak with him. + +"What can be the matter?" he exclaimed, pleased to have his faith in +woman strengthened. The cake had exploded, no doubt. + +So it proved, when the gentlemen joined the fair society. All the +younger ladies stood about the table, whereon the cake stood displayed, +gaps being left for those sitting to feast their vision, and intrude the +comments and speculations continually arising from fresh shocks of wonder +at the unaccountable apparition. Entering with the half-guilty air of +men who know they have come from a grosser atmosphere, the gallant males +also ranged themselves round the common object of curiosity. + +"Here! Adrian!" Mrs. Doria cried. "Where is Adrian? Pray, come here. +Tell me! Where did this cake come from? Whose is it? What does it do +here? You know all about it, for you brought it. Clare saw you bring it +into the room. What does it mean? I insist upon a direct answer. Now +do not make me impatient, Adrian." + +Certainly Mrs. Doria was equal to twenty. By her concentrated rapidity +and volcanic complexion it was evident that suspicion had kindled. + +"I was really bound to bring it," Adrian protested. + +"Answer me!" + +The wise youth bowed: "Categorically. This cake came from the house of a +person, a female, of the name of Berry. It belongs to you partly, partly +to me, partly to Clare, and to the rest of our family, on the principle +of equal division for which purpose it is present...." + +"Yes! Speak!" + +"It means, my dear aunt, what that kind of cake usually does mean." + +"This, then, is the Breakfast! And the ring! Adrian! where is Richard?" + +Mrs. Doria still clung to unbelief in the monstrous horror. + +But when Adrian told her that Richard had left town, her struggling hope +sank. "The wretched boy has ruined himself!" she said, and sat down +trembling. + +Oh! that System! The delicate vituperations gentle ladies use instead of +oaths, Mrs. Doria showered on that System. She hesitated not to say that +her brother had got what he deserved. Opinionated, morbid, weak, justice +had overtaken him. Now he would see! but at what a price! at what a +sacrifice! + +Mrs. Doria, commanded Adrian to confirm her fears. + +Sadly the wise youth recapitulated Berry's words. "He was married this +morning at half-past eleven of the clock, or twenty to twelve, by +licence, at the Kensington parish church." + +"Then that was his appointment!" Mrs. Doria murmured. + +"That was the cake for breakfast!" breathed a second of her sex. + +"And it was his ring!" exclaimed a third. + +The men were silent, and made long faces. + +Clare stood cold and sedate. She and her mother avoided each other's +eyes. + +"Is it that abominable country person, Adrian?" + +"The happy damsel is, I regret to say, the Papist dairymaid," said +Adrian, in sorrowful but deliberate accents. + +Then arose a feminine hum, in the midst of which Mrs. Doria cried, +"Brandon!" She was a woman of energy. Her thoughts resolved to action +spontaneously. + +"Brandon," she drew the barrister a little aside, "can they not be +followed, and separated? I want your advice. Cannot we separate them? +A boy! it is really shameful if he should be allowed to fall into the +toils of a designing creature to ruin himself irrevocably. Can we not, +Brandon?" + +The worthy barrister felt inclined to laugh, but he answered her +entreaties: "From what I hear of the young groom I should imagine the +office perilous." + +"I'm speaking of law, Brandon. Can we not obtain an order from one of +your Courts to pursue them and separate them instantly?" + +"This evening?" + +"Yes!" + +Brandon was sorry to say she decidedly could not. + +"You might call on one of your Judges, Brandon." + +Brandon assured her that the Judges were a hard-worked race, and to a man +slept heavily after dinner. + +"Will you do so to-morrow, the first thing in the morning? Will you +promise me to do so, Brandon?--Or a magistrate! A magistrate would send +a policeman after them. My dear Brandon! I beg--I beg you to assist us +in this dreadful extremity. It will be the death of my poor brother. I +believe he would forgive anything but this. You have no idea what his +notions are of blood." + +Brandon tipped Adrian a significant nod to step in and aid. + +"What is it, aunt?" asked the wise youth. "You want them followed and +torn asunder by wild policemen?" + +"To-morrow!" Brandon queerly interposed. + +"Won't that be--just too late?" Adrian suggested. + +Mrs. Doria, sighed out her last spark of hope. + +"You see," said Adrian.... + +"Yes! yes!" Mrs. Doria did not require any of his elucidations. "Pray be +quiet, Adrian, and let me speak. Brandon! it cannot be! it's quite +impossible! Can you stand there and tell me that boy is legally married? +I never will believe it! The law cannot be so shamefully bad as to +permit a boy--a mere child--to do such absurd things. Grandpapa!" she +beckoned to the old gentleman. "Grandpapa! pray do make Brandon speak. +These lawyers never will. He might stop it, if he would. If I were a +man, do you think I would stand here?" + +"Well, my dear," the old gentleman toddled to compose her, "I'm quite of +your opinion. I believe he knows no more than you or I. My belief is +they none of them know anything till they join issue and go into Court. +I want to see a few female lawyers." + +"To encourage the bankrupt perruquier, sir?" said Adrian. "They would +have to keep a large supply of wigs on hand." + +"And you can jest, Adrian!" his aunt reproached him. "But I will not be +beaten. I know--I am firmly convinced that no law would ever allow a boy +to disgrace his family and ruin himself like that, and nothing shall +persuade me that it is so. Now, tell me, Brandon, and pray do speak in +answer to my questions, and please to forget you are dealing with a +woman. Can my nephew be rescued from the consequences of his folly? Is +what he has done legitimate? Is he bound for life by what he has done +while a boy? + +"Well--a," Brandon breathed through his teeth. "A--hm! the matter's so +very delicate, you see, Helen." + +"You're to forget that," Adrian remarked. + +"A--hm! well!" pursued Brandon. "Perhaps if you could arrest and divide +them before nightfall, and make affidavit of certain facts"... + +"Yes?" the eager woman hastened his lagging mouth. + +"Well...hm! a...in that case...a... Or if a lunatic, you could prove him +to have been of unsound mind."... + +"Oh! there's no doubt of his madness on my mind, Brandon." + +"Yes! well! in that case... Or if of different religious persuasions"... + +"She is a Catholic!" Mrs. Doria joyfully interjected. + +"Yes! well! in that case...objections might be taken to the form of the +marriage... Might be proved fictitious... Or if he's under, say, +eighteen years"... + +"He can't be much more," cried Mrs. Doria. "I think," she appeared to +reflect, and then faltered imploringly to Adrian, "What is Richard's +age?" + +The kind wise youth could not find it in his heart to strike away the +phantom straw she caught at. + +"Oh! about that, I should fancy," he muttered; and found it necessary at +the same time to duck and turn his head for concealment. Mrs. Doria +surpassed his expectations. + +"Yes I well, then..." Brandon was resuming with a shrug, which was meant +to say he still pledged himself to nothing, when Clare's voice was heard +from out the buzzing circle of her cousins: "Richard is nineteen years +and six months old to-day, mama." + +"Nonsense, child." + +"He is, mama." Clare's voice was very steadfast. + +"Nonsense, I tell you. How can you know?" + +"Richard is one year and nine months older than me, mama." + +Mrs. Doria fought the fact by years and finally by months. Clare was too +strong for her. + +"Singular child!" she mentally apostrophized the girl who scornfully +rejected straws while drowning. + +"But there's the religion still!" she comforted herself, and sat down to +cogitate. + +The men smiled and looked vacuous. + +Music was proposed. There are times when soft music hath not charms; +when it is put to as base uses as Imperial Caesar's dust and is taken to +fill horrid pauses. Angelica Forey thumped the piano, and sang: "I'm a +laughing Gitana, ha-ha! ha-ha!" Matilda Forey and her cousin Mary +Branksburne wedded their voices, and songfully incited all young people +to Haste to the bower that love has built, and defy the wise ones of the +world; but the wise ones of the world were in a majority there, and very +few places of assembly will be found where they are not; so the glowing +appeal of the British ballad-monger passed into the bosom of the +emptiness he addressed. Clare was asked to entertain the company. The +singular child calmly marched to the instrument, and turned over the +appropriate illustrations to the ballad-monger's repertory. + +Clare sang a little Irish air. Her duty done, she marched from the +piano. Mothers are rarely deceived by their daughters in these matters; +but Clare deceived her mother; and Mrs. Doria only persisted in feeling +an agony of pity for her child, that she might the more warrantably pity +herself--a not uncommon form of the emotion, for there is no juggler like +that heart the ballad-monger puts into our mouths so boldly. Remember +that she saw years of self-denial, years of a ripening scheme, rendered +fruitless in a minute, and by the System which had almost reduced her to +the condition of constitutional hypocrite. She had enough of bitterness +to brood over, and some excuse for self-pity. + +Still, even when she was cooler, Mrs. Doria's energetic nature prevented +her from giving up. Straws were straws, and the frailer they were the +harder she clutched them. + +She rose from her chair, and left the room, calling to Adrian to follow +her. + +"Adrian," she said, turning upon him in the passage, "you mentioned a +house where this horrible cake...where he was this morning. I desire you +to take me to that woman immediately." + +The wise youth had not bargained for personal servitude. He had hoped he +should be in time for the last act of the opera that night, after +enjoying the comedy of real life. + +"My dear aunt"...he was beginning to insinuate. + +"Order a cab to be sent for, and get your hat," said Mrs. Doria. + +There was nothing for it but to obey. He stamped his assent to the +Pilgrim's dictum, that Women are practical creatures, and now reflected +on his own account, that relationship to a young fool may be a vexation +and a nuisance. However, Mrs. Doria compensated him. + +What Mrs. Doria intended to do, the practical creature did not plainly +know; but her energy positively demanded to be used in some way or other, +and her instinct directed her to the offender on whom she could use it in +wrath. She wanted somebody to be angry with, somebody to abuse. She +dared not abuse her brother to his face: him she would have to console. +Adrian was a fellow-hypocrite to the System, and would, she was aware, +bring her into painfully delicate, albeit highly philosophic, ground by a +discussion of the case. So she drove to Bessy Berry simply to inquire +whither her nephew had flown. + +When a soft woman, and that soft woman a sinner, is matched with a woman +of energy, she does not show much fight, and she meets no mercy. Bessy +Berry's creditor came to her in female form that night. She then beheld +it in all its terrors. Hitherto it had appeared to her as a male, a +disembodied spirit of her imagination possessing male attributes, and the +peculiar male characteristic of being moved, and ultimately silenced, by +tears. As female, her creditor was terrible indeed. Still, had it not +been a late hour, Bessy Berry would have died rather than speak openly +that her babes had sped to make their nest in the Isle of Wight. They +had a long start, they were out of the reach of pursuers, they were safe, +and she told what she had to tell. She told more than was wise of her to +tell. She made mention of her early service in the family, and of her +little pension. Alas! her little pension! Her creditor had come +expecting no payment--come; as creditors are wont in such moods, just to +take it out of her--to employ the familiar term. At once Mrs. Doria +pounced upon the pension. + +"That, of course, you know is at an end," she said in the calmest manner, +and Berry did not plead for the little bit of bread to her. She only +asked a little consideration for her feelings. + +True admirers of women had better stand aside from the scene. +Undoubtedly it was very sad for Adrian to be compelled to witness it. +Mrs. Doria was not generous. The Pilgrim may be wrong about the sex not +growing; but its fashion of conducting warfare we must allow to be +barbarous, and according to what is deemed the pristine, or wild cat, +method. Ruin, nothing short of it, accompanied poor Berry to her bed +that night, and her character bled till morning on her pillow. + +The scene over, Adrian reconducted Mrs. Doria to her home. Mice had been +at the cake during her absence apparently. The ladies and gentlemen +present put it on the greedy mice, who were accused of having gorged and +gone to bed. + +"I'm sure they're quite welcome," said Mrs. Doria. "It's a farce, this +marriage, and Adrian has quite come to my way of thinking. I would not +touch an atom of it. Why, they were married in a married woman's ring! +Can that be legal, as you call it? Oh, I'm convinced! Don't tell me. +Austin will be in town to-morrow, and if he is true to his principles, he +will instantly adopt measures to rescue his son from infamy. I want no +legal advice. I go upon common sense, common decency. This marriage is +false." + +Mrs. Doria's fine scheme had become so much a part of her life, that she +could not give it up. She took Clare to her bed, and caressed and wept +over her, as she would not have done had she known the singular child, +saying, "Poor Richard! my dear poor boy! we must save him, Clare! we must +save him!" Of the two the mother showed the greater want of iron on this +occasion. Clare lay in her arms rigid and emotionless, with one of her +hands tight-locked. All she said was: "I knew it in the morning, mama." +She slept clasping Richard's nuptial ring. + +By this time all specially concerned in the System knew it. The +honeymoon was shoring placidly above them. Is not happiness like another +circulating medium? When we have a very great deal of it, some poor +hearts are aching for what is taken away from them. When we have gone +out and seized it on the highways, certain inscrutable laws are sure to +be at work to bring us to the criminal bar, sooner or later. Who knows +the honeymoon that did not steal somebody's sweetness? Richard Turpin +went forth, singing "Money or life" to the world: Richard Feverel has +done the same, substituting "Happiness" for "Money," frequently synonyms. +The coin he wanted he would have, and was just as much a highway robber +as his fellow Dick, so that those who have failed to recognize him as a +hero before, may now regard him in that light. Meanwhile the world he +has squeezed looks exceedingly patient and beautiful. His coin chinks +delicious music to him. Nature and the order of things on earth have no +warmer admirer than a jolly brigand or a young man made happy by the +Jews. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +And now the author of the System was on trial under the eyes of the lady +who loved him. What so kind as they? Yet are they very rigorous, those +soft watchful woman's eyes. If you are below the measure they have made +of you, you will feel it in the fulness of time. She cannot but show you +that she took you for a giant, and has had to come down a bit. You feel +yourself strangely diminishing in those sweet mirrors, till at last they +drop on you complacently level. But, oh beware, vain man, of ever waxing +enamoured of that wonderful elongation of a male creature you saw +reflected in her adoring upcast orbs! Beware of assisting to delude her! +A woman who is not quite a fool will forgive your being but a man, if you +are surely that: she will haply learn to acknowledge that no mortal +tailor could have fitted that figure she made of you respectably, and +that practically (though she sighs to think it) her ideal of you was on +the pattern of an overgrown charity-boy in the regulation jacket and +breech. For this she first scorns the narrow capacities of the tailor, +and then smiles at herself. But shouldst thou, when the hour says +plainly, Be thyself, and the woman is willing to take thee as thou art, +shouldst thou still aspire to be that thing of shanks and wrests, wilt +thou not seem contemptible as well as ridiculous? And when the fall +comes, will it not be flat on thy face, instead of to the common height +of men? You may fall miles below her measure of you, and be safe: +nothing is damaged save an overgrown charity-boy; but if you fall below +the common height of men, you must make up your mind to see her rustle +her gown, spy at the looking-glass, and transfer her allegiance. The +moral of which is, that if we pretend to be what we are not, woman, for +whose amusement the farce is performed, will find us out and punish us +for it. And it is usually the end of a sentimental dalliance. + +Had Sir Austin given vent to the pain and wrath it was natural he should +feel, he might have gone to unphilosophic excesses, and, however much he +lowered his reputation as a sage, Lady Blandish would have excused him: +she would not have loved him less for seeing him closer. But the poor +gentleman tasked his soul and stretched his muscles to act up to her +conception of him. He, a man of science in life, who was bound to be +surprised by nothing in nature, it was not for him to do more than lift +his eyebrows and draw in his lips at the news delivered by Ripton +Thompson, that ill bird at Raynham. + +All he said, after Ripton had handed the letters and carried his +penitential headache to bed, was: "You see, Emmeline, it is useless to +base any system on a human being." + +A very philosophical remark for one who has been busily at work building +for nearly twenty years. Too philosophical to seem genuine. It revealed +where the blow struck sharpest. Richard was no longer the Richard of his +creation--his pride and his joy--but simply a human being with the rest. +The bright star had sunk among the mass. + +And yet, what had the young man done? And in what had the System failed? + +The lady could not but ask herself this, while she condoled with the +offended father. + +"My friend," she said, tenderly taking his hand before she retired, "I +know how deeply you must be grieved. I know what your disappointment +must be. I do not beg of you to forgive him now. You cannot doubt his +love for this young person, and according to his light, has he not +behaved honourably, and as you would have wished, rather than bring her +to shame? You will think of that. It has been an accident--a +misfortune--a terrible misfortune"... + +"The God of this world is in the machine--not out of it," Sir Austin +interrupted her, and pressed her hand to get the good-night over. + +At any other time her mind would have been arrested to admire the phrase; +now it seemed perverse, vain, false, and she was tempted to turn the +meaning that was in it against himself, much as she pitied him. + +"You know, Emmeline," he added, "I believe very little in the fortune, or +misfortune, to which men attribute their successes and reverses. They +are useful impersonations to novelists; but my opinion is sufficiently +high of flesh and blood to believe that we make our own history without +intervention. Accidents?--Terrible misfortunes?--What are they?--Good- +night." + +"Good-night," she said, looking sad and troubled. "When I said, +'misfortune,' I meant, of course, that he is to blame; but--shall I leave +you his letter to me?" + +"I think I have enough to meditate upon," he replied, coldly bowing. + +"God bless you," she whispered. "And--may I say it? do not shut your +heart." + +He assured her that he hoped not to do so and the moment she was gone he +set about shutting it as tight as he could. + +If, instead of saying, Base no system on a human being, he had said, +Never experimentalize with one, he would have been nearer the truth of +his own case. He had experimented on humanity in the person of the son +he loved as his life, and at once, when the experiment appeared to have +failed, all humanity's failings fell on the shoulders of his son. +Richard's parting laugh in the train--it was explicable now: it sounded +in his ears like the mockery of this base nature of ours at every +endeavour to exalt and chasten it. The young man had plotted this. From +step to step Sir Austin traced the plot. The curious mask he had worn +since his illness; the selection of his incapable uncle Hippias for a +companion in preference to Adrian; it was an evident, well-perfected +plot. That hideous laugh would not be silenced: Base, like the rest, +treacherous, a creature of passions using his abilities solely to gratify +them--never surely had humanity such chances as in him! A Manichaean +tendency, from which the sententious eulogist of nature had been +struggling for years (and which was partly at the bottom of the System), +now began to cloud and usurp dominion of his mind. As he sat alone in +the forlorn dead-hush of his library, he saw the devil. + +How are we to know when we are at the head and fountain of the fates of +them we love? + +There by the springs of Richard's future, his father sat: and the devil +said to him: "Only be quiet: do nothing: resolutely do nothing: your +object now is to keep a brave face to the world, so that all may know you +superior to this human nature that has deceived you. For it is the +shameless deception, not the marriage, that has wounded you." + +"Ay!" answered the baronet, "the shameless deception, not the marriage: +wicked and ruinous as it must be; a destroyer of my tenderest hopes! my +dearest schemes! Not the marriage--the shameless deception!" and he +crumpled up his son's letter to him, and tossed it into the fire. + +How are we to distinguish the dark chief of the Manichaeans when he talks +our own thoughts to us? + +Further he whispered, "And your System:--if you would be brave to the +world, have courage to cast the dream of it out of you: relinquish an +impossible project; see it as it is--dead: too good for men!" + +"Ay!" muttered the baronet: "all who would save them perish on the +Cross!" + +And so he sat nursing the devil. + +By and by he took his lamp, and put on the old cloak and cap, and went to +gaze at Ripton. That exhausted debauchee and youth without a destiny +slept a dead sleep. A handkerchief was bound about his forehead, and his +helpless sunken chin and snoring nose projected up the pillow, made him +look absurdly piteous. The baronet remembered how often he had compared +his boy with this one: his own bright boy! And where was the difference +between them? + +"Mere outward gilding!" said his familiar. + +"Yes," he responded, "I daresay this one never positively plotted to +deceive his father: he followed his appetites unchecked, and is +internally the sounder of the two." + +Ripton, with his sunken chin and snoring nose under the light of the +lamp, stood for human nature, honest, however abject. + +"Miss Random, I fear very much, is a necessary establishment!" whispered +the monitor. + +"Does the evil in us demand its natural food, or it corrupts the whole?" +ejaculated Sir Austin. "And is no angel of avail till that is drawn off? +And is that our conflict--to see whether we can escape the contagion of +its embrace, and come uncorrupted out of that?" + +"The world is wise in its way," said the voice. + +"Though it look on itself through Port wine?" he suggested, remembering +his lawyer Thompson. + +"Wise in not seeking to be too wise," said the voice. + +"And getting intoxicated on its drug of comfort!" + +"Human nature is weak." + +"And Miss Random is an establishment, and Wild Oats an institution!" + +"It always has been so." + +"And always will be?" + +"So I fear! in spite of your very noble efforts." + +"And leads--whither? And ends--where?" + +Richard's laugh, taken up by horrid reverberations, as it were through +the lengths of the Lower Halls, replied. + +This colloquy of two voices in a brain was concluded by Sir Austin asking +again if there were no actual difference between the flower of his hopes +and yonder drunken weed, and receiving for answer that there was a +decided dissimilarity in the smell of the couple; becoming cognizant of +which he retreated. + +Sir Austin did not battle with the tempter. He took him into his bosom +at once, as if he had been ripe for him, and received his suggestions and +bowed to his dictates. Because he suffered, and decreed that he would +suffer silently, and be the only sufferer, it seemed to him that he was +great-minded in his calamity. He had stood against the world. The world +had beaten him. What then? He must shut his heart and mask his face; +that was all. To be far in advance of the mass, is as fruitless to +mankind, he reflected, as straggling in the rear. For how do we know +that they move behind us at all, or move in our track? What we win for +them is lost; and where we are overthrown we lie! + +It was thus that a fine mind and a fine heart at the bounds of a nature +not great, chose to colour his retrogression and countenance his +shortcoming; and it was thus that he set about ruining the work he had +done. He might well say, as he once did, that there are hours when the +clearest soul becomes a cunning fox. For a grief that was private and +peculiar, he unhesitatingly cast the blame upon humanity; just as he had +accused it in the period of what he termed his own ordeal. How had he +borne that? By masking his face. And he prepared the ordeal for his son +by doing the same. This was by no means his idea of a man's duty in +tribulation, about which he could be strenuously eloquent. + +But it was his instinct so to act, and in times of trial great natures +alone are not at the mercy of their instincts. Moreover it would cost +him pain to mask his face; pain worse than that he endured when there +still remained an object for him to open his heart to in proportion; and +he always reposed upon the Spartan comfort of bearing pain and being +passive. "Do nothing," said the devil he nursed; which meant in his +case, "Take me into you and don't cast me out." Excellent and sane is +the outburst of wrath to men, when it stops short of slaughter. For who +that locks it up to eat in solitary, can say that it is consumed? Sir +Austin had as weak a digestion for wrath, as poor Hippias for a green +duckling. Instead of eating it, it ate him. The wild beast in him was +not the less deadly because it did not roar, and the devil in him not the +less active because he resolved to do nothing. + +He sat at the springs of Richard's future, in the forlorn dead-hush of +his library there, hearing the cinders click in the extinguished fire, +and that humming stillness in which one may fancy one hears the midnight +Fates busily stirring their embryos. The lamp glowed mildly on the bust +of Chatham. + +Toward morning a gentle knock fell at his door. Lady Blandish glided in. +With hasty step she came straight to him, and took both his hands. + +"My friend," she said, speaking tearfully, and trembling, "I feared I +should find you here. I could not sleep. How is it with you?" + +"Well! Emmeline, well!" he replied, torturing his brows to fix the mask. + +He wished it had been Adrian who had come to him. He had an +extraordinary longing for Adrian's society. He knew that the wise youth +would divine how to treat him, and he mentally confessed to just enough +weakness to demand a certain kind of management. Besides, Adrian, he had +not a doubt, would accept him entirely as he seemed, and not pester him +in any way by trying to unlock his heart; whereas a woman, he feared, +would be waxing too womanly, and swelling from tears and supplications to +a scene, of all things abhorred by him the most. So he rapped the floor +with his foot, and gave the lady no very welcome face when he said it was +well with him. + +She sat down by his side, still holding one hand firmly, and softly +detaining the other. + +"Oh, my friend! may I believe you? May I speak to you?" She leaned +close to him. "You know my heart. I have no better ambition than to be +your friend. Surely I divide your grief, and may I not claim your +confidence? Who has wept more over your great and dreadful sorrows? I +would not have come to you, but I do believe that sorrow shared relieves +the burden, and it is now that you may feel a woman's aid, and something +of what a woman could be to you...." + +"Be assured," he gravely said, "I thank you, Emmeline, for your +intentions." + +"No, no! not for my intentions! And do not thank me. Think of +him...think of your dear boy... Our Richard, as we have called him.--Oh! +do not think it a foolish superstition of mine, but I have had a thought +this night that has kept me in torment till I rose to speak to you... +Tell me first you have forgiven him." + +"A father bears no malice to his son, Emmeline." + +"Your heart has forgiven him?" + +My heart has taken what he gave." + +"And quite forgiven him?" + +"You will hear no complaints of mine." + +The lady paused despondingly, and looked at him in a wistful manner, +saying with a sigh, "Yes! I know how noble you are, and different from +others!" + +He drew one of his hands from her relaxed hold. + +"You ought to be in bed, Emmeline." + +"I cannot sleep." + +"Go, and talk to me another time." + +"No, it must be now. You have helped me when I struggled to rise into a +clearer world, and I think, humble as I am, I can help you now. I have +had a thought this night that if you do not pray for him and bless +him...it will end miserably. My friend, have you done so?" + +He was stung and offended, and could hardly help showing it in spite of +his mask. + +"Have you done so, Austin?" + +"This is assuredly a new way of committing fathers to the follies of +their sons, Emmeline!" + +"No, not that. But will you pray for your boy, and bless him, before the +day comes?" + +He restrained himself to pronounce his words calmly:--"And I must do +this, or it will end in misery? How else can it end? Can I save him +from the seed he has sown? Consider, Emmeline, what you say. He has +repeated his cousin's sin. You see the end of that." + +"Oh, so different! This young person is not, is not of the class poor +Austin Wentworth allied himself to. Indeed it is different. And he--be +just and admit his nobleness. I fancied you did. This young person has +great beauty, she has the elements of good breeding, she--indeed I think, +had she been in another position, you would not have looked upon her +unfavourably." + +"She may be too good for my son!" The baronet spoke with sublime +bitterness. + +"No woman is too good for Richard, and you know it." + +"Pass her." + +"Yes, I will speak only of him. He met her by a fatal accident. We +thought his love dead, and so did he till he saw her again. He met her, +he thought we were plotting against him, he thought he should lose her +for ever, and is the madness of an hour he did this...." + +"My Emmeline pleads bravely for clandestine matches." + +"Ah! do not trifle, my friend. Say: would you have had him act as young +men in his position generally do to young women beneath them?" + +Sir Austin did not like the question. It probed him very severely. + +"You mean," he said, "that fathers must fold their arms, and either +submit to infamous marriages, or have these creatures ruined." + +"I do not mean that," exclaimed the lady, striving for what she did mean, +and how to express it. "I mean that he loved her. Is it not a madness +at his age? But what I chiefly mean is--save him from the consequences. +No, you shall not withdraw your hand. Think of his pride, his +sensitiveness, his great wild nature--wild when he is set wrong: think +how intense it is, set upon love; think, my friend, do not forget his +love for you." + +Sir Austin smiled an admirable smile of pity. + +"That I should save him, or any one, from consequences, is asking more +than the order of things will allow to you, Emmeline, and is not in the +disposition of this world. I cannot. Consequences are the natural +offspring of acts. My child, you are talking sentiment, which is the +distraction of our modern age in everything--a phantasmal vapour +distorting the image of the life we live. You ask me to give him a +golden age in spite of himself. All that could be done, by keeping him +in the paths of virtue and truth, I did. He is become a man, and as a +man he must reap his own sowing." + +The baffled lady sighed. He sat so rigid: he spoke so securely, as if +wisdom were to him more than the love of his son. And yet he did love +his son. Feeling sure that he loved his son while he spoke so loftily, +she reverenced him still, baffled as she was, and sensible that she had +been quibbled with. + +"All I ask of you is to open your heart to him," she said. + +He kept silent. + +"Call him a man,--he is, and must ever be the child of your education, my +friend." + +"You would console me, Emmeline, with the prospect that, if he ruins +himself, he spares the world of young women. Yes, that is something!" + +Closely she scanned the mask. It was impenetrable. He could meet her +eyes, and respond to the pressure of her hand, and smile, and not show +what he felt. Nor did he deem it hypocritical to seek to maintain his +elevation in her soft soul, by simulating supreme philosophy over +offended love. Nor did he know that he had an angel with him then: a +blind angel, and a weak one, but one who struck upon his chance. + +"Am I pardoned for coming to you?" she said, after a pause. + +"Surely I can read my Emmeline's intentions," he gently replied. + +"Very poor ones. I feel my weakness. I cannot utter half I have been +thinking. Oh, if I could!" + +"You speak very well, Emmeline." + +"At least, I am pardoned!" + +"Surely so." + +"And before I leave you, dear friend, shall I be forgiven?--may I beg +it?--will you bless him?" + +He was again silent. + +"Pray for him, Austin! pray for him ere the night is over." + +As she spoke she slid down to his feet and pressed his hand to her bosom. + +The baronet was startled. In very dread of the soft fit that wooed him, +he pushed back his chair, and rose, and went to the window. + +"It's day already!" he said with assumed vivacity, throwing open the +shutters, and displaying the young light on the lawn. + +Lady Blandish dried her tears as she knelt, and then joined him, and +glanced up silently at Richard's moon standing in wane toward the West. +She hoped it was because of her having been premature in pleading so +earnestly, that she had failed to move him, and she accused herself more +than the baronet. But in acting as she had done, she had treated him as +no common man, and she was compelled to perceive that his heart was at +present hardly superior to the hearts of ordinary men, however composed +his face might be, and apparently serene his wisdom. From that moment +she grew critical of him, and began to study her idol--a process +dangerous to idols. He, now that she seemed to have relinquished the +painful subject, drew to her, and as one who wished to smooth a foregone +roughness, murmured: "God's rarest blessing is, after all, a good woman! +My Emmeline bears her sleepless night well. She does not shame the day." +He gazed down on her with a fondling tenderness. + +"I could bear many, many!" she replied, meeting his eyes, "and you would +see me look better and better, if...if only..." but she had no +encouragement to end the sentence. + +Perhaps he wanted some mute form of consolation; perhaps the handsome +placid features of the dark-eyed dame touched him: at any rate their +Platonism was advanced by his putting an arm about her. She felt the arm +and talked of the morning. + +Thus proximate, they by and by both heard something very like a groan +behind them, and looking round, beheld the Saurian eye. Lady Blandish +smiled, but the baronet's discomposure was not to be concealed. By a +strange fatality every stage of their innocent loves was certain to have +a human beholder. + +"Oh, I'm sure I beg pardon," Benson mumbled, arresting his head in a +melancholy pendulosity. He was ordered out of the room. + +"And I think I shall follow him, and try to get forty winks," said Lady +Blandish. They parted with a quiet squeeze of hands. + +The baronet then called in Benson. + +"Get me my breakfast as soon as you can," he said, regardless of the +aspect of injured conscience Benson sombrely presented to him. "I am +going to town early. And, Benson," he added, "you will also go to town +this afternoon, or to-morrow, if it suits you, and take your book with +you to Mr. Thompson. You will not return here. A provision will be made +for you. You can go." + +The heavy butler essayed to speak, but the tremendous blow and the +baronet's gesture choked him. At the door he made another effort which +shook the rolls of his loose skin pitiably. An impatient signal sent him +out dumb,--and Raynham was quit of the one believer in the Great Shaddock +dogma. + + + + +ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: + +Although it blew hard when Caesar crossed the Rubicon +As when nations are secretly preparing for war +The world is wise in its way +The danger of a little knowledge of things is disputable +Wise in not seeking to be too wise +Yet, though Angels smile, shall not Devils laugh + + + + +End of this Project Gutenberg Etext of Ordeal Richard Feverel, v4 +by George Meredith + + + + + + +THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL + +By GEORGE MEREDITH + +1905 + + + +BOOK 5. + +XXXIV. CONQUEST OF AN EPICURE +XXXV. CLARE'S MARRIAGE +XXXVI. A DINNER-PARTY AT RICHMOND +XXXVII. MRS. BERRY ON MATRIMONY +XXXVIII. AN ENCHANTRESS + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +It was the month of July. The Solent ran up green waves before a full- +blowing South-wester. Gay little yachts bounded out like foam, and +flashed their sails, light as sea-nymphs. A crown of deep Summer blue +topped the flying mountains of cloud. + +By an open window that looked on the brine through nodding roses, our +young bridal pair were at breakfast, regaling worthily, both of them. +Had the Scientific Humanist observed them, he could not have contested +the fact, that as a couple who had set up to be father and mother of +Britons, they were doing their duty. Files of egg-cups with +disintegrated shells bore witness to it, and they were still at work, +hardly talking from rapidity of exercise. Both were dressed for an +expedition. She had her bonnet on, and he his yachting-hat. His sleeves +were turned over at the wrists, and her gown showed its lining on her +lap. At times a chance word might spring a laugh, but eating was the +business of the hour, as I would have you to know it always will be where +Cupid is in earnest. Tribute flowed in to them from the subject land. +Neglected lies Love's penny-whistle on which they played so prettily and +charmed the spheres to hear them. What do they care for the spheres, who +have one another? Come, eggs! come, bread and butter! come, tea with +sugar in it and milk! and welcome, the jolly hours. That is a fair +interpretation of the music in them just now. Yonder instrument was good +only for the overture. After all, what finer aspiration can lovers have, +than to be free man and woman in the heart of plenty? And is it not a +glorious level to have attained? Ah, wretched Scientific Humanist! not +to be by and mark the admirable sight of these young creatures feeding. +It would have been a spell to exorcise the Manichee, methinks. + +The mighty performance came to an end, and then, with a flourish of his +table-napkin, husband stood over wife, who met him on the confident +budding of her mouth. The poetry of mortals is their daily prose. Is it +not a glorious level to have attained? A short, quick-blooded kiss, +radiant, fresh, and honest as Aurora, and then Richard says without lack +of cheer, "No letter to-day, my Lucy!" whereat her sweet eyes dwell on +him a little seriously, but he cries, "Never mind! he'll be coming down +himself some morning. He has only to know her, and all's well! eh?" and +so saying he puts a hand beneath her chin, and seems to frame her fair +face in fancy, she smiling up to be looked at. + +"But one thing I do want to ask my darling," says Lucy, and dropped into +his bosom with hands of petition. "Take me on board his yacht with him +to-day--not leave me with those people! Will he? I'm a good sailor, he +knows!" + +"The best afloat!" laughs Richard, hugging her, "but, you know, you +darling bit of a sailor, they don't allow more than a certain number on +board for the race, and if they hear you've been with me, there'll be +cries of foul play! Besides, there's Lady Judith to talk to you about +Austin, and Lord Mountfalcon's compliments for you to listen to, and Mr. +Morton to take care of you." + +Lucy's eyes fixed sideways an instant. + +"I hope I don't frown and blush as I did?" she said, screwing her pliable +brows up to him winningly, and he bent his cheek against hers, and +murmured something delicious. + +"And we shall be separated for--how many hours? one, two, three hours!" +she pouted to his flatteries. + +"And then I shall come on board to receive my bride's congratulations." + +"And then my husband will talk all the time to Lady Judith." + +"And then I shall see my wife frowning and blushing at Lord Mountfalcon." + +"Am I so foolish, Richard?" she forgot her trifling to ask in an earnest +way, and had another Aurorean kiss, just brushing the dew on her lips, +for answer. + +After hiding a month in shyest shade, the pair of happy sinners had +wandered forth one day to look on men and marvel at them, and had chanced +to meet Mr. Morton of Poer Hall, Austin Wentworth's friend, and Ralph's +uncle. Mr. Morton had once been intimate with the baronet, but had given +him up for many years as impracticable and hopeless, for which reason he +was the more inclined to regard Richard's misdemeanour charitably, and to +lay the faults of the son on the father; and thinking society to be the +one thing requisite to the young man, he had introduced him to the people +he knew in the island; among others to the Lady Judith Felle, a fair +young dame, who introduced him to Lord Mountfalcon, a puissant nobleman; +who introduced him to the yachtsmen beginning to congregate; so that in a +few weeks he found himself in the centre of a brilliant company, and for +the first time in his life tasted what it was to have free intercourse +with his fellow-creatures of both sews. The son of a System was, +therefore, launched; not only through the surf, but in deep waters. + +Now the baronet had so far compromised between the recurrence of his +softer feelings and the suggestions of his new familiar, that he had +determined to act toward Richard with justness. The world called it +magnanimity, and even Lady Blandish had some thoughts of the same kind +when she heard that he had decreed to Richard a handsome allowance, and +had scouted Mrs. Doria's proposal for him to contest the legality of the +marriage; but Sir Austin knew well he was simply just in not withholding +money from a youth so situated. And here again the world deceived him by +embellishing his conduct. For what is it to be just to whom we love! He +knew it was not magnanimous, but the cry of the world somehow fortified +him in the conceit that in dealing perfect justice to his son he was +doing all that was possible, because so much more than common fathers +would have done. He had shut his heart. + +Consequently Richard did not want money. What he wanted more, and did +not get, was a word from his father, and though he said nothing to sadden +his young bride, she felt how much it preyed upon him to be at variance +with the man whom, now that he had offended him and gone against him, he +would have fallen on his knees to; the man who was as no other man to +him. She heard him of nights when she lay by his side, and the darkness, +and the broken mutterings, of those nights clothed the figure of the +strange stern man in her mind. Not that it affected the appetites of the +pretty pair. We must not expect that of Cupid enthroned and in +condition; under the influence of sea-air, too. The files of egg-cups +laugh at such an idea. Still the worm did gnaw them. Judge, then, of +their delight when, on this pleasant morning, as they were issuing from +the garden of their cottage to go down to the sea, they caught sight of +Tom Bakewell rushing up the road with a portmanteau on his shoulders, +and, some distance behind him, discerned Adrian. + +"It's all right!" shouted Richard, and ran off to meet him, and never +left his hand till he had hauled him up, firing questions at him all the +way, to where Lucy stood. + +"Lucy! this is Adrian, my cousin."--"Isn't he an angel?" his eyes seemed +to add; while Lucy's clearly answered, "That he is!" + +The full-bodied angel ceremoniously bowed to her, and acted with reserved +unction the benefactor he saw in their greetings. "I think we are not +strangers," he was good enough to remark, and very quickly let them know +he had not breakfasted; on hearing which they hurried him into the house, +and Lucy put herself in motion to have him served. + +"Dear old Rady," said Richard, tugging at his hand again, "how glad I am +you've come! I don't mind telling you we've been horridly wretched." + +"Six, seven, eight, nine eggs," was Adrian's comment on a survey of the +breakfast-table. + +"Why wouldn't he write? Why didn't he answer one of my letters? But +here you are, so I don't mind now. He wants to see us, does he? We'll +go up to-night. I've a match on at eleven; my little yacht--I've called +her the 'Blandish'--against Fred Cuirie's 'Begum.' I shall beat, but +whether I do or not, we'll go up to-night. What's the news? What are +they all doing?" + +"My dear boy!" Adrian returned, sitting comfortably down, "let me put +myself a little more on an equal footing with you before I undertake to +reply. Half that number of eggs will be sufficient for an unmarried man, +and then we'll talk. They're all very well, as well as I can recollect +after the shaking my total vacuity has had this morning. I came over by +the first boat, and the sea, the sea has made me love mother earth, and +desire of her fruits." + +Richard fretted restlessly opposite his cool relative. + +"Adrian! what did he say when he heard of it? I want to know exactly +what words he said." + +"Well says the sage, my son! 'Speech is the small change of Silence.' +He said less than I do." + +"That's how he took it!" cried Richard, and plunged in meditation. + +Soon the table was cleared, and laid out afresh, and Lucy preceded the +maid bearing eggs on the tray, and sat down unbonneted, and like a +thorough-bred housewife, to pour out the tea for him. + +"Now we'll commence," said Adrian, tapping his egg with meditative +cheerfulness; but his expression soon changed to one of pain, all the +more alarming for his benevolent efforts to conceal it. Could it be +possible the egg was bad? oh, horror! Lucy watched him, and waited in +trepidation. + +"This egg has boiled three minutes and three-quarters," he observed, +ceasing to contemplate it. + +"Dear, dear!" said Lucy, "I boiled them myself exactly that time. +Richard likes them so. And you like them hard, Mr. Harley?" + +"On the contrary, I like them soft. Two minutes and a half, or three- +quarters at the outside. An egg should never rashly verge upon hardness- +-never. Three minutes is the excess of temerity." + +"If Richard had told me! If I had only known!" the lovely little hostess +interjected ruefully, biting her lip. + +"We mustn't expect him to pay attention to such matters," said Adrian, +trying to smile. + +"Hang it! there are more eggs in the house," cried Richard, and pulled +savagely at the bell. + +Lucy jumped up, saying, "Oh, yes! I will go and boil some exactly the +time you like. Pray let me go, Mr. Harley." + +Adrian restrained her departure with a motion of his hand. "No," he +said, "I will be ruled by Richard's tastes, and heaven grant me his +digestion!" + +Lucy threw a sad look at Richard, who stretched on a sofa, and left the +burden of the entertainment entirely to her. The eggs were a melancholy +beginning, but her ardour to please Adrian would not be damped, and she +deeply admired his resignation. If she failed in pleasing this glorious +herald of peace, no matter by what small misadventure, she apprehended +calamity; so there sat this fair dove with brows at work above her +serious smiling blue eyes, covertly studying every aspect of the plump- +faced epicure, that she might learn to propitiate him. "He shall not +think me timid and stupid," thought this brave girl, and indeed Adrian +was astonished to find that she could both chat and be useful, as well as +look ornamental. When he had finished one egg, behold, two fresh ones +came in, boiled according to his prescription. She had quietly given her +orders to the maid, and he had them without fuss. Possibly his look of +dismay at the offending eggs had not been altogether involuntary, and her +woman's instinct, inexperienced as she was, may have told her that he had +come prepared to be not very well satisfied with anything in Love's +cottage. There was mental faculty in those pliable brows to see through, +and combat, an unwitting wise youth. + +How much she had achieved already she partly divined when Adrian said: "I +think now I'm in case to answer your questions, my dear boy--thanks to +Mrs. Richard," and he bowed to her his first direct acknowledgment of her +position. Lucy thrilled with pleasure. + +"Ah!" cried Richard, and settled easily on his back. + +"To begin, the Pilgrim has lost his Note-book, and has been persuaded to +offer a reward which shall maintain the happy finder thereof in an asylum +for life. Benson--superlative Benson--has turned his shoulders upon +Raynham. None know whither he has departed. It is believed that the +sole surviving member of the sect of the Shaddock-Dogmatists is under a +total eclipse of Woman." + +"Benson gone?" Richard exclaimed. "What a tremendous time it seems since +I left Raynham!" + +"So it is, my dear boy. The honeymoon is Mahomet's minute; or say, the +Persian King's water-pail that you read of in the story: You dip your +head in it, and when you draw it out, you discover that you have lived a +life. To resume your uncle Algernon still roams in pursuit of the lost +one--I should say, hops. Your uncle Hippias has a new and most +perplexing symptom; a determination of bride-cake to the nose. Ever +since your generous present to him, though he declares he never consumed +a morsel of it, he has been under the distressing illusion that his nose +is enormous, and I assure you he exhibits quite a maidenly timidity in +following it--through a doorway, for instance. He complains of its +terrible weight. I have conceived that Benson invisible might be sitting +on it. His hand, and the doctor's, are in hourly consultation with it, +but I fear it will not grow smaller. The Pilgrim has begotten upon it a +new Aphorism: that Size is a matter of opinion." + +"Poor uncle Hippy!" said Richard, "I wonder he doesn't believe in magic. +There's nothing supernatural to rival the wonderful sensations he does +believe in. Good God! fancy coming to that!" + +"I'm sure I'm very sorry," Lucy protested, "but I can't help laughing." + +Charming to the wise youth her pretty laughter sounded. + +"The Pilgrim has your notion, Richard. Whom does he not forestall? +'Confirmed dyspepsia is the apparatus of illusions,' and he accuses the +Ages that put faith in sorcery, of universal indigestion, which may have +been the case, owing to their infamous cookery. He says again, if you +remember, that our own Age is travelling back to darkness and ignorance +through dyspepsia. He lays the seat of wisdom in the centre of our +system, Mrs. Richard: for which reason you will understand how sensible I +am of the vast obligation I am under to you at the present moment, for +your especial care of mine." + +Richard looked on at Lucy's little triumph, attributing Adrian's +subjugation to her beauty and sweetness. She had latterly received a +great many compliments on that score, which she did not care to hear, and +Adrian's homage to a practical quality was far pleasanter to the young +wife, who shrewdly guessed that her beauty would not help her much in the +struggle she had now to maintain. Adrian continuing to lecture on the +excelling virtues of wise cookery, a thought struck her: Where, where had +she tossed Mrs. Berry's book? + +"So that's all about the home-people?" said Richard. + +"All!" replied Adrian. "Or stay: you know Clare's going to be married? +Not? Your Aunt Helen"-- + +"Oh, bother my Aunt Helen! What do you think she had the impertinence to +write--but never mind! Is it to Ralph?" + +"Your Aunt Helen, I was going to say, my dear boy, is an extraordinary +woman. It was from her originally that the Pilgrim first learnt to call +the female the practical animal. He studies us all, you know. The +Pilgrim's Scrip is the abstract portraiture of his surrounding relatives. +Well, your Aunt Helen"-- + +"Mrs. Doria Battledoria!" laughed Richard. + +"--being foiled in a little pet scheme of her own--call it a System if +you like--of some ten or fifteen years' standing, with regard to Miss +Clare!"-- + +The fair Shuttlecockiana!" + +"--instead of fretting like a man, and questioning +Providence, and turning herself and everybody else inside out, and seeing +the world upside down, what does the practical animal do? She wanted to +marry her to somebody she couldn't marry her to, so she resolved +instantly to marry her to somebody she could marry her to: and as old +gentlemen enter into these transactions with the practical animal the +most readily, she fixed upon an old gentleman; an unmarried old +gentleman, a rich old gentleman, and now a captive old gentleman. The +ceremony takes place in about a week from the present time. No doubt you +will receive your invitation in a day or two." + +"And that cold, icy, wretched Clare has consented to marry an old man!" +groaned Richard. "I'll put a stop to that when I go to town." + +Richard got up and strode about the room. Then he bethought him it was +time to go on board and make preparations. + +"I'm off," he said. "Adrian, you'll take her. She goes in the Empress, +Mountfalcon's vessel. He starts us. A little schooner-yacht--such a +beauty! I'll have one like her some day. Good-bye, darling!" he +whispered to Lucy, and his hand and eyes lingered on her, and hers on +him, seeking to make up for the priceless kiss they were debarred from. +But she quickly looked away from him as he held her:--Adrian stood +silent: his brows were up, and his mouth dubiously contracted. He spoke +at last. + +"Go on the water?" + +"Yes. It's only to St. Helen's. Short and sharp." + +"Do you grudge me the nourishment my poor system has just received, my +son?" + +"Oh, bother your system! Put on your hat, and come along. I'll put you +on board in my boat." + +"Richard! I have already paid the penalty of them who are condemned to +come to an island. I will go with you to the edge of the sea, and I will +meet you there when you return, and take up the Tale of the Tritons: but, +though I forfeit the pleasure of Mrs. Richard's company, I refuse to quit +the land." + +"Yes, oh, Mr. Harley!" Lucy broke from her husband, "and I will stay with +you, if you please. I don't want to go among those people, and we can +see it all from the shore. + +"Dearest! I don't want to go. You don't mind? Of course, I will go if +you wish, but I would so much rather stay;" and she lengthened her plea +in her attitude and look to melt the discontent she saw gathering. + +Adrian protested that she had much better go; that he could amuse himself +very well till their return, and so forth; but she had schemes in her +pretty head, and held to it to be allowed to stay in spite of Lord +Mountfalcon's disappointment, cited by Richard, and at the great risk of +vexing her darling, as she saw. Richard pished, and glanced +contemptuously at Adrian. He gave way ungraciously. + +"There, do as you like. Get your things ready to leave this evening. +No, I'm not angry."--Who could be? he seemed as he looked up from her +modest fondling to ask Adrian, and seized the indemnity of a kiss on her +forehead, which, however, did not immediately disperse the shade of +annoyance he felt. + +"Good heavens!" he exclaimed. "Such a day as this, and a fellow refuses +to come on the water! Well, come along to the edge of the sea." +Adrian's angelic quality had quite worn off to him. He never thought of +devoting himself to make the most of the material there was: but somebody +else did, and that fair somebody succeeded wonderfully in a few short +hours. She induced Adrian to reflect that the baronet had only to see +her, and the family muddle would be smoothed at once. He came to it by +degrees; still the gradations were rapid. Her manner he liked; she was +certainly a nice picture: best of all, she was sensible. He forgot the +farmer's niece in her, she was so very sensible. She appeared really to +understand that it was a woman's duty to know how to cook. + +But the difficulty was, by what means the baronet could be brought to +consent to see her. He had not yet consented to see his son, and Adrian, +spurred by Lady Blandish, had ventured something in coming down. He was +not inclined to venture more. The small debate in his mind ended by his +throwing the burden on time. Time would bring the matter about. +Christians as well as Pagans are in the habit of phrasing this excuse for +folding their arms; "forgetful," says The Pilgrim's Scrip, "that the +devil's imps enter into no such armistice." + +As she loitered along the shore with her amusing companion, Lucy had many +things to think of. There was her darling's match. The yachts were +started by pistol-shot by Lord Mountfalcon on board the Empress, and her +little heart beat after Richard's straining sails. Then there was the +strangeness of walking with a relative of Richard's, one who had lived by +his side so long. And the thought that perhaps this night she would have +to appear before the dreaded father of her husband. + +"O Mr. Harley!" she said, "is it true--are we to go tonight? And me," +she faltered, "will he see me?" + +"Ah! that is what I wanted to talk to you about," said Adrian. "I made +some reply to our dear boy which he has slightly misinterpreted. Our +second person plural is liable to misconstruction by an ardent mind. I +said 'see you,' and he supposed--now, Mrs. Richard, I am sure you will +understand me. Just at present perhaps it would be advisable--when the +father and son have settled their accounts, the daughter-in-law can't be +a debtor."... + +Lucy threw up her blue eyes. A half-cowardly delight at the chance of a +respite from the awful interview made her quickly apprehensive. + +"O Mr. Harley! you think he should go alone first?" + +"Well, that is my notion. But the fact is, he is such an excellent +husband that I fancy it will require more than a man's power of +persuasion to get him to go." + +"But I will persuade him, Mr. Harley." +"Perhaps, if you would..." + +"There is nothing I would not do for his happiness," murmured Lucy. + +The wise youth pressed her hand with lymphatic approbation. They walked +on till the yachts had rounded the point. + +"Is it to-night, Mr. Harley?" she asked with some trouble in her voice +now that her darling was out of sight. + +"I don't imagine your eloquence even will get him to leave you to-night," +Adrian replied gallantly. "Besides, I must speak for myself. To achieve +the passage to an island is enough for one day. No necessity exists for +any hurry, except in the brain of that impetuous boy. You must correct +it, Mrs. Richard. Men are made to be managed, and women are born +managers. Now, if you were to let him know that you don't want to go to- +night, and let him guess, after a day or two, that you would very much +rather... you might affect a peculiar repugnance. By taking it on +yourself, you see, this wild young man will not require such frightful +efforts of persuasion. Both his father and he are exceedingly delicate +subjects, and his father unfortunately is not in a position to be managed +directly. It's a strange office to propose to you, but it appears to +devolve upon you to manage the father through the son. Prodigal having +made his peace, you, who have done all the work from a distance, +naturally come into the circle of the paternal smile, knowing it due to +you. I see no other way. If Richard suspects that his father objects +for the present to welcome his daughter-in-law, hostilities will be +continued, the breach will be widened, bad will grow to worse, and I see +no end to it." + +Adrian looked in her face, as much as to say: Now are you capable of this +piece of heroism? And it did seem hard to her that she should have to +tell Richard she shrank from any trial. But the proposition chimed in +with her fears and her wishes: she thought the wise youth very wise: the +poor child was not insensible to his flattery, and the subtler flattery +of making herself in some measure a sacrifice to the home she had +disturbed. She agreed to simulate as Adrian had suggested. + +Victory is the commonest heritage of the hero, and when Richard came on +shore proclaiming that the Blandish had beaten the Begum by seven minutes +and three-quarters, he was hastily kissed and congratulated by his bride +with her fingers among the leaves of Dr. Kitchener, and anxiously +questioned about wine. + +"Dearest! Mr. Harley wants to stay with us a little, and he thinks we +ought not to go immediately--that is, before he has had some letters, and +I feel... I would so much rather..." + +"Ah! that's it, you coward!" said Richard. "Well, then, to-morrow. We +had a splendid race. Did you see us?" + +"Oh, yes! I saw you and was sure my darling would win." And again she +threw on him the cold water of that solicitude about wine. "Mr. Harley +must have the best, you know, and we never drink it, and I'm so silly, I +don't know good wine, and if you would send Tom where he can get good +wine. I have seen to the dinner." + +"So that's why you didn't come to meet me?" + +"Pardon me, darling." + +Well, I do, but Mountfalcon doesn't, and Lady Judith thinks you ought to +have been there." + +"Ah, but my heart was with you!" + +Richard put his hand to feel for the little heart: her eyelids softened, +and she ran away. + +It is to say much of the dinner that Adrian found no fault with it, and +was in perfect good-humour at the conclusion of the service. He did not +abuse the wine they were able to procure for him, which was also much. +The coffee, too, had the honour of passing without comment. These were +sound first steps toward the conquest of an epicure, and as yet Cupid did +not grumble. + +After coffee they strolled out to see the sun set from Lady Judith's +grounds. The wind had dropped. The clouds had rolled from the zenith, +and ranged in amphitheatre with distant flushed bodies over sea and land: +Titanic crimson head and chest rising from the wave faced Hyperion +falling. There hung Briareus with deep-indented trunk and ravined brows, +stretching all his hands up to unattainable blue summits. North-west the +range had a rich white glow, as if shining to the moon, and westward, +streams of amber, melting into upper rose, shot out from the dipping +disk. + +"What Sandoe calls the passion-flower of heaven," said Richard under his +breath to Adrian, who was serenely chanting Greek hexameters, and +answered, in the swing of the caesura, "He might as well have said +cauliflower." + +Lady Judith, with a black lace veil tied over her head, met them in the +walk. She was tall and dark; dark-haired, dark-eyed, sweet and +persuasive in her accent and manner. "A second edition of the Blandish," +thinks Adrian. She welcomed him as one who had claims on her affability. +She kissed Lucy protectingly, and remarking on the wonders of the +evening, appropriated her husband. Adrian and Lucy found themselves +walking behind them. + +The sun was under. All the spaces of the sky were alight, and Richard's +fancy flamed. + +"So you're not intoxicated with your immense triumph this morning?" said +Lady Judith + +"Don't laugh at me. When it's over I feel ashamed of the trouble I've +taken. Look at that glory!--I'm sure you despise me for it." + +"Was I not there to applaud you? I only think such energies should be +turned into some definitely useful channel. But you must not go into the +Army." + +"What else can I do?" + +"You are fit for so much that is better." + +"I never can be anything like Austin." + +"But I think you can do more." + +"Well, I thank you for thinking it, Lady Judith. Something I will do. +A man must deserve to live, as you say. + +"Sauces," Adrian was heard to articulate distinctly in the rear, "Sauces +are the top tree of this science. A woman who has mastered sauces sits +on the apex of civilization." + +Briareus reddened duskily seaward. The West was all a burning rose. + +"How can men see such sights as those, and live idle?" Richard resumed. +"I feel ashamed of asking my men to work for me.--Or I feel so now." + +"Not when you're racing the Begum, I think. There's no necessity for you +to turn democrat like Austin. Do you write now?" + +"No. What is writing like mine? It doesn't deceive me. I know it's +only the excuse I'm making to myself for remaining idle. I haven't +written a line since--lately." + +"Because you are so happy." + +"No, not because of that. Of course I'm very happy..." He did not +finish. + +Vague, shapeless ambition had replaced love in yonder skies. No +Scientific Humanist was by to study the natural development, and guide +him. This lady would hardly be deemed a very proper guide to the +undirected energies of the youth, yet they had established relations of +that nature. She was five years older than he, and a woman, which may +explain her serene presumption. + +The cloud-giants had broken up: a brawny shoulder smouldered over the +sea. + +"We'll work together in town, at all events," said Richard, + +"Why can't we go about together at night and find out people who want +help?" + +Lady Judith smiled, and only corrected his nonsense by saying, "I think +we mustn't be too romantic. You will become a knight-errant, I suppose. +You have the characteristics of one." + +"Especially at breakfast," Adrian's unnecessarily emphatic gastronomical +lessons to the young wife here came in. + +"You must be our champion," continued Lady Judith: "the rescuer and +succourer of distressed dames and damsels. We want one badly." + +"You do," said Richard, earnestly: "from what I hear: from what I know!" +His thoughts flew off with him as knight-errant hailed shrilly at +exceeding critical moment by distressed dames and damsels. Images of +airy towers hung around. His fancy performed miraculous feats. The +towers crumbled. The stars grew larger, seemed to throb with lustre. +His fancy crumbled with the towers of the air, his heart gave a leap, he +turned to Lucy. + +"My darling! what have you been doing?" And as if to compensate her for +his little knight-errant infidelity, he pressed very tenderly to her. + +"We have been engaged in a charming conversation on domestic cookery," +interposed Adrian. + +"Cookery! such an evening as this?" His face was a handsome likeness of +Hippias at the presentation of bridecake. + +"Dearest! you know it's very useful," Lucy mirthfully pleaded. + +"Indeed I quite agree with you, child," said Lady Judith, and I think you +have the laugh of us. I certainly will learn to cook some day." + +"Woman's mission, in so many words," ejaculated Adrian. + +"And pray, what is man's?" + +"To taste thereof, and pronounce thereupon." + +"Let us give it up to them," said Lady Judith to Richard. "You and I +never will make so delightful and beautifully balanced a world of it." + +Richard appeared to have grown perfectly willing to give everything up to +the fair face, his bridal Hesper. + +Neat day Lucy had to act the coward anew, and, as she did so, her heart +sank to see how painfully it affected him that she should hesitate to go +with him to his father. He was patient, gentle; he sat down by her side +to appeal to her reason, and used all the arguments he could think of to +persuade her. + +"If we go together and make him see us both: if he sees he has nothing to +be ashamed of in you--rather everything to be proud of; if you are only +near him, you will not have to speak a word, and I'm certain--as certain +as that I live--that in a week we shall be settled happily at Raynham. I +know my father so well, Lucy. Nobody knows him but I." + +Lucy asked whether Mr. Harley did not. + +"Adrian? Not a bit. Adrian only knows a part of people, Lucy; and not +the best part." + +Lucy was disposed to think more highly of the object of her conquest. + +"Is it he that has been frightening you, Lucy?" + +"No, no, Richard; oh, dear no!" she cried, and looked at him more +tenderly because she was not quite truthful. + +"He doesn't know my father at all," said Richard. But Lucy had another +opinion of the wise youth, and secretly maintained it. She could not be +won to imagine the baronet a man of human mould, generous, forgiving, +full of passionate love at heart, as Richard tried to picture him, and +thought him, now that he beheld him again through Adrian's embassy. To +her he was that awful figure, shrouded by the midnight. "Why are you so +harsh?" she had heard Richard cry more than once. She was sure that +Adrian must be right. + +"Well, I tell you I won't go without you," said Richard, and Lucy begged +for a little more time. + +Cupid now began to grumble, and with cause. Adrian positively refused to +go on the water unless that element were smooth as a plate. The South- +west still joked boisterously at any comparison of the sort; the days +were magnificent; Richard had yachting engagements; and Lucy always +petitioned to stay to keep Adrian company, concerning it her duty as +hostess. Arguing with Adrian was an absurd idea. If Richard hinted at +his retaining Lucy, the wise youth would remark: "It's a wholesome +interlude to your extremely Cupidinous behaviour, my dear boy." + +Richard asked his wife what they could possibly find to talk about. + +"All manner of things," said Lucy; "not only cookery. He is so amusing, +though he does make fun of The Pilgrim's Scrip, and I think he ought not. +And then, do you know, darling--you won't think me vain?--I think he is +beginning to like me a little." + +Richard laughed at the humble mind of his Beauty. + +"Doesn't everybody like you, admire you? Doesn't Lord Mountfalcon, and +Mr. Morton, and Lady Judith?" + +"But he is one of your family, Richard." + +"And they all will, if she isn't a coward." + +"Ah, no!" she sighs, and is chidden. + +The conquest of an epicure, or any young wife's conquest beyond her +husband, however loyally devised for their mutual happiness, may be +costly to her. Richard in his hours of excitement was thrown very much +with Lady Judith. He consulted her regarding what he termed Lucy's +cowardice. Lady Judith said: "I think she's wrong, but you must learn to +humour little women." + +"Then would you advise me to go up alone?" he asked, with a cloudy +forehead. + +"What else can you do? Be reconciled yourself as quickly as you can. +You can't drag her like a captive, you know?" + +It is not pleasant for a young husband, fancying his bride the peerless +flower of Creation, to learn that he must humour a little woman in her. +It was revolting to Richard. + +"What I fear," he said, "is, that my father will make it smooth with me, +and not acknowledge her: so that whenever I go to him, I shall have to +leave her, and tit for tat--an abominable existence, like a ball on a +billiard-table. I won't bear that ignominy. And this I know, I know! +she might prevent it at once, if she would only be brave, and face it. +You, you, Lady Judith, you wouldn't be a coward?" + +"Where my old lord tells me to go, I go," the lady coldly replied. +"There's not much merit in that. Pray, don't cite me. Women are born +cowards, you know." + +"But I love the women who are not cowards." + +"The little thing--your wife has not refused to go?" + +"No--but tears! Who can stand tears?" + +Lucy had come to drop them. Unaccustomed to have his will thwarted, and +urgent where he saw the thing to do so clearly, the young husband had +spoken strong words: and she, who knew that she would have given her life +by inches for him; who knew that she was playing a part for his +happiness, and hiding for his sake the nature that was worthy his esteem; +the poor little martyr had been weak a moment. + +She had Adrian's support. The wise youth was very comfortable. He liked +the air of the Island, and he liked being petted. "A nice little woman! +a very nice little woman!" Tom Bakewell heard him murmur to himself +according to a habit he had; and his air of rather succulent patronage as +he walked or sat beside the innocent Beauty, with his head thrown back +and a smile that seemed always to be in secret communion with his marked +abdominal prominence, showed that she was gaining part of what she played +for. Wise youths who buy their loves, are not unwilling, when +opportunity offers, to try and obtain the commodity for nothing. +Examinations of her hand, as for some occult purpose, and unctuous +pattings of the same, were not infrequent. Adrian waxed now and then +Anacreontic in his compliments. Lucy would say: "That's worse than Lord +Mountfalcon." + +"Better English than the noble lord deigns to employ--allow that?" quoth +Adrian. + +"He is very kind," said Lucy. + +"To all, save to our noble vernacular," added Adrian. "He seems to scent +a rival to his dignity there." + +It may be that Adrian scented a rival to his lymphatic emotions. + +"We are at our ease here in excellent society," he wrote to Lady +Blandish. "I am bound to confess that the Huron has a happy fortune, or +a superlative instinct. Blindfold he has seized upon a suitable mate. +She can look at a lord, and cook for an epicure. Besides Dr. Kitchener, +she reads and comments on The Pilgrim's Scrip. The `Love' chapter, of +course, takes her fancy. That picture of Woman, `Drawn by Reverence and +coloured by Love,' she thinks beautiful, and repeats it, tossing up +pretty eyes. Also the lover's petition: 'Give me purity to be worthy the +good in her, and grant her patience to reach the good in me.' 'Tis quite +taking to hear her lisp it. Be sure that I am repeating the petition! I +make her read me her choice passages. She has not a bad voice. + +"The Lady Judith I spoke of is Austin's Miss Menteith, married to the +incapable old Lord Felle, or Fellow, as the wits here call him. Lord +Mountfalcon is his cousin, and her--what? She has been trying to find +out, but they have both got over their perplexity, and act respectively +the bad man reproved and the chaste counsellor; a position in which our +young couple found them, and haply diverted its perils. They had quite +taken them in hand. Lady Judith undertakes to cure the fair Papist of a +pretty, modest trick of frowning and blushing when addressed, and his +lordship directs the exuberant energies of the original man. 'Tis thus +we fulfil our destinies, and are content. Sometimes they change pupils; +my lord educates the little dame, and my lady the hope of Raynham. Joy +and blessings unto all! as the German poet sings. Lady Judith accepted +the hand of her decrepit lord that she might be of potent service to her +fellow-creatures. Austin, you know, had great hopes of her. + +"I have for the first time in my career a field of lords to study. I +think it is not without meaning that I am introduced to it by a yeoman's +niece. The language of the two social extremes is similar. I find it to +consist in an instinctively lavish use of vowels and adjectives. My lord +and Farmer Blaize speak the same tongue, only my lord's has lost its +backbone, and is limp, though fluent. Their pursuits are identical; but +that one has money, or, as the Pilgrim terms it, vantage, and the other +has not. Their ideas seem to have a special relationship in the +peculiarity of stopping where they have begun. Young Tom Blaize with +vantage would be Lord Mountfalcon. Even in the character of their +parasites I see a resemblance, though I am bound to confess that the Hon. +Peter Brayder, who is my lord's parasite, is by no means noxious. + +"This sounds dreadfully democrat. Pray, don't be alarmed. The discovery +of the affinity between the two extremes of the Royal British Oak has +made me thrice conservative. I see now that the national love of a lord +is less subservience than a form of self-love; putting a gold-lace hat on +one's image, as it were, to bow to it. I see, too, the admirable wisdom +of our system:--could there be a finer balance of power than in a +community where men intellectually nil, have lawful vantage and a gold- +lace hat on? How soothing it is to intellect--that noble rebel, as the +Pilgrim has it--to stand, and bow, and know itself superior! This +exquisite compensation maintains the balance: whereas that period +anticipated by the Pilgrim, when science shall have produced an +intellectual aristocracy, is indeed horrible to contemplate. For what +despotism is so black as one the mind cannot challenge? 'Twill be an +iron Age. Wherefore, madam, I cry, and shall continue to cry, 'Vive Lord +Mountfalcon! long may he sip his Burgundy! long may the bacon-fed carry +him on their shoulders!' + +"Mr. Morton (who does me the honour to call me Young Mephisto, and +Socrates missed) leaves to-morrow to get Master Ralph out of a scrape. +Our Richard has just been elected member of a Club for the promotion of +nausea. Is he happy? you ask. As much so as one who has had the +misfortune to obtain what he wanted can be. Speed is his passion. He +races from point to point. In emulation of Leander and Don Juan, he +swam, I hear, to the opposite shores the other day, or some world-shaking +feat of the sort: himself the Hero whom he went to meet: or, as they who +pun say, his Hero was a Bet. A pretty little domestic episode occurred +this morning. He finds her abstracted in the fire of his caresses: she +turns shy and seeks solitude: green jealousy takes hold of him: he lies +in wait, and discovers her with his new rival--a veteran edition of the +culinary Doctor! Blind to the Doctor's great national services, deaf to +her wild music, he grasps the intruder, dismembers him, and performs upon +him the treatment he has recommended for dressed cucumber. Tears and +shrieks accompany the descent of the gastronome. Down she rushes to +secure the cherished fragments: he follows: they find him, true to his +character, alighted and straggling over a bed of blooming flowers. Yet +ere a fairer flower can gather him, a heel black as Pluto stamps him into +earth, flowers and all:--happy burial! Pathetic tribute to his merit is +watering his grave, when by saunters my Lord Mountfalcon. 'What's the +mattah?' says his lordship, soothing his moustache. They break apart, +and 'tis left to me to explain from the window. My lord looks shocked, +Richard is angry with her for having to be ashamed of himself, Beauty +dries her eyes, and after a pause of general foolishness, the business of +life is resumed. I may add that the Doctor has just been dug up, and we +are busy, in the enemy's absence, renewing old Aeson with enchanted +threads. By the way, a Papist priest has blest them." + +A month had passed when Adrian wrote this letter. He was very +comfortable; so of course he thought Time was doing his duty. Not a word +did he say of Richard's return, and for some reason or other neither +Richard nor Lucy spoke of it now. + +Lady Blandish wrote back: "His father thinks he has refused to come to +him. By your utter silence on the subject, I fear that it must be so. +Make him come. Bring him by force. Insist on his coming. Is he mad? +He must come at once." + +To this Adrian replied, after a contemplative comfortable lapse of a day +or two, which might be laid to his efforts to adopt the lady's advice, +"The point is that the half man declines to come without the whole man. +The terrible question of sex is our obstruction." + +Lady Blandish was in despair. She had no positive assurance that the +baronet would see his son; the mask put them all in the dark; but she +thought she saw in Sir Austin irritation that the offender, at least when +the opening to come and make his peace seemed to be before him, should +let days and weeks go by. She saw through the mask sufficiently not to +have any hope of his consenting to receive the couple at present; she was +sure that his equanimity was fictitious; but she pierced no farther, or +she might have started and asked herself, Is this the heart of a woman? + +The lady at last wrote to Richard. She said: "Come instantly, and come +alone." Then Richard, against his judgment, gave way. "My father is not +the man I thought him!" he exclaimed sadly, and Lucy felt his eyes saying +to her: "And you, too, are not the woman I thought you." Nothing could +the poor little heart reply but strain to his bosom and sleeplessly pray +in his arms all the night. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + + +Three weeks after Richard arrived in town, his cousin Clare was married, +under the blessings of her energetic mother, and with the approbation of +her kinsfolk, to the husband that had been expeditiously chosen for her. +The gentleman, though something more than twice the age of his bride, had +no idea of approaching senility for many long connubial years to come. +Backed by his tailor and his hairdresser, he presented no such bad figure +at the altar, and none would have thought that he was an ancient admirer +of his bride's mama, as certainly none knew he had lately proposed for +Mrs. Doria before there was any question of her daughter. These things +were secrets; and the elastic and happy appearance of Mr. John Todhunter +did not betray them at the altar. Perhaps he would rather have married +the mother. He was a man of property, well born, tolerably well +educated, and had, when Mrs. Doria rejected him for the first time, the +reputation of being a fool--which a wealthy man may have in his youth; +but as he lived on, and did not squander his money--amassed it, on the +contrary, and did not seek to go into Parliament, and did other negative +wise things, the world's opinion, as usual, veered completely round, and +John Todhunter was esteemed a shrewd, sensible man--only not brilliant; +that he was brilliant could not be said of him. In fact, the man could +hardly talk, and it was a fortunate provision that no impromptu +deliveries were required of him in the marriage-service. + +Mrs. Doria had her own reasons for being in a hurry. She had discovered +something of the strange impassive nature of her child; not from any +confession of Clare's, but from signs a mother can read when, her eyes +are not resolutely shut. She saw with alarm and anguish that Clare had +fallen into the pit she had been digging for her so laboriously. In vain +she entreated the baronet to break the disgraceful, and, as she said, +illegal alliance his son had contracted. Sir Austin would not even stop +the little pension to poor Berry. "At least you will do that, Austin," +she begged pathetically. "You will show your sense of that horrid +woman's conduct?" He refused to offer up any victim to console her. +Then Mrs. Doria told him her thoughts,--and when an outraged energetic +lady is finally brought to exhibit these painfully hoarded treasures, she +does not use half words as a medium. His System, and his conduct +generally were denounced to him, without analysis. She let him +understand that the world laughed at him; and he heard this from her at a +time when his mask was still soft and liable to be acted on by his +nerves. "You are weak, Austin! weak, I tell you!" she said, and, like +all angry and self-interested people, prophecy came easy to her. In her +heart she accused him of her own fault, in imputing to him the wreck of +her project. The baronet allowed her to revel in the proclamation of a +dire future, and quietly counselled her to keep apart from him, which his +sister assured him she would do. + +But to be passive in calamity is the province of no woman. Mark the race +at any hour. "What revolution and hubbub does not that little +instrument, the needle, avert from us!" says The Pilgrim's Scrip. Alas, +that in calamity women cannot stitch! Now that she saw Clare wanted +other than iron, it struck her she must have a husband, and be made +secure as a woman and a wife. This seemed the thing to do: and, as she +had forced the iron down Clare's throat, so she forced the husband, and +Clare gulped at the latter as she had at the former. On the very day +that Mrs. Doria had this new track shaped out before her, John Todhunter +called at the Foreys'. "Old John!" sang out Mrs. Doria, "show him up to +me. I want to see him particularly." He sat with her alone. He was a +man multitudes of women would have married--whom will they not?--and who +would have married any presentable woman: but women do want asking, and +John never had the word. The rape of such men is left to the practical +animal. So John sat alone with his old flame. He had become resigned to +her perpetual lamentation and living Suttee for his defunct rival. But, +ha! what meant those soft glances now--addressed to him? His tailor and +his hairdresser gave youth to John, but they had not the art to bestow +upon him distinction, and an undistinguished man what woman looks at? +John was an indistinguishable man. For that reason he was dry wood to a +soft glance. + +And now she said: "It is time you should marry; and you are the man to be +the guide and helper of a young woman, John. You are well preserved-- +younger than most of the young men of our day. You are eminently +domestic, a good son, and will be a good husband and good father. Some +one you must marry.--What do you think of Clare for a wife for you?" + +At first John Todhunter thought it would be very much like his marrying a +baby. However, he listened to it, and that was enough for Mrs. Doria. + +She went down to John's mother, and consulted with her on the propriety +of the scheme of wedding her daughter to John in accordance with his +proposition. Mrs. Todhunter's jealousy of any disturbing force in the +influence she held over her son Mrs. Doria knew to be one of the causes +of John's remaining constant to the impression she had afore-time +produced on him. She spoke so kindly of John, and laid so much stress on +the ingrained obedience and passive disposition of her daughter, that +Mrs. Todhunter was led to admit she did think it almost time John should +be seeking a mate, and that he--all things considered--would hardly find +a fitter one. And this, John Todhunter--old John no more--heard to his +amazement when, a day or two subsequently, he instanced the probable +disapproval of his mother. + +The match was arranged. Mrs. Doria did the wooing. It consisted in +telling Clare that she had come to years when marriage was desirable, and +that she had fallen into habits of moping which might have the worse +effect on her future life, as it had on her present health and +appearance, and which a husband would cure. Richard was told by Mrs. +Doria that Clare had instantaneously consented to accept Mr. John +Todhunter as lord of her days, and with more than obedience--with +alacrity. At all events, when Richard spoke to Clare, the strange +passive creature did not admit constraint on her inclinations. Mrs. +Doria allowed Richard to speak to her. She laughed at his futile +endeavours to undo her work, and the boyish sentiments he uttered on the +subject. "Let us see, child," she said, "let us see which turns out the +best; a marriage of passion, or a marriage of common sense." + +Heroic efforts were not wanting to arrest the union. Richard made +repeated journeys to Hounslow, where Ralph was quartered, and if Ralph +could have been persuaded to carry off a young lady who did not love him, +from the bridegroom her mother averred she did love, Mrs. Doria might +have been defeated. But Ralph in his cavalry quarters was cooler than +Ralph in the Bursley meadows. "Women are oddities, Dick," he remarked, +running a finger right and left along his upper lip. "Best leave them to +their own freaks. She's a dear girl, though she doesn't talk: I like her +for that. If she cared for me I'd go the race. She never did. It's no +use asking a girl twice. She knows whether she cares a fig for a +fellow." + +The hero quitted him with some contempt, As Ralph Morton was a young man, +and he had determined that John Todhunter was an old man, he sought +another private interview with Clare, and getting her alone, said: +"Clare, I've come to you for the last time. Will you marry Ralph +Morton?" + +To which Clare replied, "I cannot marry two husbands, Richard." + +"Will you refuse to marry this old man?" + +"I must do as mama wishes." + +"Then you're going to marry an old man--a man you don't love, and can't +love! Oh, good God! do you know what you're doing?" He flung about in a +fury. "Do you know what it is? Clare!" he caught her two hands +violently, "have you any idea of the horror you're going to commit?" + +She shrank a little at his vehemence, but neither blushed nor stammered: +answering: "I see nothing wrong in doing what mama thinks right, +Richard." + +"Your mother! I tell you it's an infamy, Clare! It's a miserable sin! +I tell you, if I had done such a thing I would not live an hour after it. +And coldly to prepare for it! to be busy about your dresses! They told +me when I came in that you were with the milliner. To be smiling over +the horrible outrage! decorating yourself!"... + +"Dear Richard," said Clare, "you will make me very unhappy." + +"That one of my blood should be so debased!" he cried, brushing angrily +at his face. "Unhappy! I beg you to feel for yourself, Clare. But I +suppose," and he said it scornfully, "girls don't feel this sort of +shame." + +She grew a trifle paler. + +"Next to mama, I would wish to please you, dear Richard." + +"Have you no will of your own?" he exclaimed. + +She looked at him softly; a look he interpreted for the meekness he +detested in her. + +"No, I believe you have none!" he added. "And what can I do? I can't +step forward and stop this accursed marriage. If you would but say a +word I would save you; but you tie my hands. And they expect me to stand +by and see it done!" + +"Will you not be there, Richard?" said Clare, following the question with +her soft eyes. It was the same voice that had so thrilled him on his +marriage morn. + +"Oh, my darling Clare!" he cried in the kindest way he had ever used to +her, "if you knew how I feel this!" and now as he wept she wept, and came +insensibly into his arms. + +"My darling Clare!" he repeated. + +She said nothing, but seemed to shudder, weeping. + +"You will do it, Clare? You will be sacrificed? So lovely as you are, +too!... Clare! you cannot be quite blind. If I dared speak to you, and +tell you all.... Look up. Can you still consent?" + +"I must not disobey mama," Clare murmured, without looking up from the +nest her cheek had made on his bosom. + +"Then kiss me for the last time," said Richard. "I'll never kiss you +after it, Clare." + +He bent his head to meet her mouth, and she threw her arms wildly round +him, and kissed him convulsively, and clung to his lips, shutting her +eyes, her face suffused with a burning red. + +Then he left her, unaware of the meaning of those passionate kisses. + +Argument with Mrs. Doria was like firing paper-pellets against a stone +wall. To her indeed the young married hero spoke almost indecorously, +and that which his delicacy withheld him from speaking to Clare. He +could provoke nothing more responsive from the practical animal than +"Pooh-pooh! Tush, tush! and Fiddlededee!" + +"Really," Mrs. Doria said to her intimates, "that boy's education acts +like a disease on him. He cannot regard anything sensibly. He is for +ever in some mad excess of his fancy, and what he will come to at last +heaven only knows! I sincerely pray that Austin will be able to bear +it." + +Threats of prayer, however, that harp upon their sincerity, are not very +well worth having. Mrs. Doria had embarked in a practical controversy, +as it were, with her brother. Doubtless she did trust he would be able +to bear his sorrows to come, but one who has uttered prophecy can barely +help hoping to see it fulfilled: she had prophecied much grief to the +baronet. + +Poor John Todhunter, who would rather have married the mother, and had +none of your heroic notions about the sacred necessity for love in +marriage, moved as one guiltless of offence, and deserving his happiness. +Mrs. Doria shielded him from the hero. To see him smile at Clare's +obedient figure, and try not to look paternal, was touching. + +Meantime Clare's marriage served one purpose. It completely occupied +Richard's mind, and prevented him from chafing at the vexation of not +finding his father ready to meet him when he came to town. A letter had +awaited Adrian at the hotel, which said, "Detain him till you hear +further from me. Take him about with you into every form of society." +No more than that. Adrian had to extemporize, that the baronet had gone +down to Wales on pressing business, and would be back in a week or so. +For ulterior inventions and devices wherewith to keep the young gentleman +in town, he applied to Mrs. Doria. "Leave him to me," said Mrs. Doria, +"I'll manage him." And she did. + +"Who can say," asks The Pilgrim's Scrip, "when he is not walking a puppet +to some woman?" + +Mrs. Doria would hear no good of Lucy. "I believe," she observed, as +Adrian ventured a shrugging protest in her behalf,--"it is my firm +opinion, that a scullery-maid would turn any of you men round her little +finger--only give her time and opportunity." By dwelling on the arts of +women, she reconciled it to her conscience to do her best to divide the +young husband from his wife till it pleased his father they should live +their unhallowed union again. Without compunction, or a sense of +incongruity, she abused her brother and assisted the fulfilment of his +behests. + +So the puppets were marshalled by Mrs. Doria, happy, or sad, or +indifferent. Quite against his set resolve and the tide of his feelings, +Richard found himself standing behind Clare in the church--the very +edifice that had witnessed his own marriage, and heard, "I, Clare Doria, +take thee John Pemberton," clearly pronounced. He stood with black brows +dissecting the arts of the tailor and hairdresser on unconscious John. +The back, and much of the middle, of Mr. Todhunter's head was bald; the +back shone like an egg-shell, but across the middle the artist had drawn +two long dabs of hair from the sides, and plastered them cunningly, so +that all save wilful eyes would have acknowledged the head to be covered. +The man's only pretension was to a respectable juvenility. He had a good +chest, stout limbs, a face inclined to be jolly. Mrs. Doria had no cause +to be put out of countenance at all by the exterior of her son-in-law: +nor was she. Her splendid hair and gratified smile made a light in the +church. Playing puppets must be an immense pleasure to the practical +animal. The Forey bridesmaids, five in number, and one Miss Doria, their +cousin, stood as girls do stand at these sacrifices, whether happy, sad, +or indifferent; a smile on their lips and tears in attendance. Old Mrs. +Todhunter, an exceedingly small ancient woman, was also there. "I can't +have my boy John married without seeing it done," she said, and +throughout the ceremony she was muttering audible encomiums on her John's +manly behaviour. + +The ring was affixed to Clare's finger; there was no ring lost in this +common-sense marriage. The instant the clergyman bade him employ it, +John drew the ring out, and dropped it on the finger of the cold passive +hand in a businesslike way, as one who had studied the matter. Mrs. +Doria glanced aside at Richard. Richard observed Clare spread out her +fingers that the operation might be the more easily effected. + +He did duty in the vestry a few minutes, and then said to his aunt: + +"Now I'll go." + +"You'll come to the breakfast, child? The Foreys"-- + +He cut her short. "I've stood for the family, and I'll do no more. I +won't pretend to eat and make merry over it." + +"Richard!" + +"Good-bye." + +She had attained her object and she wisely gave way. + +"Well. Go and kiss Clare, and shake his hand. Pray, pray be civil." + +She turned to Adrian, and said: "He is going. You must go with him, and +find some means of keeping him, or he'll be running off to that woman. +Now, no words--go!" + +Richard bade Clare farewell. She put up her mouth to him humbly, but he +kissed her on the forehead. + +"Do not cease to love me," she said in a quavering whisper in his ear. + +Mr. Todhunter stood beaming and endangering the art of the hairdresser +with his pocket-handkerchief. Now he positively was married, he thought +he would rather have the daughter than the mother, which is a reverse of +the order of human thankfulness at a gift of the Gods. + +"Richard, my boy!" he said heartily, "congratulate me." + +"I should be happy to, if I could," sedately replied the hero, to the +consternation of those around. Nodding to the bridesmaids and bowing to +the old lady, he passed out. + +Adrian, who had been behind him, deputed to watch for a possible +unpleasantness, just hinted to John: "You know, poor fellow, he has got +into a mess with his marriage." + +"Oh! ah! yes!" kindly said John, "poor fellow!" + +All the puppets then rolled off to the breakfast. + +Adrian hurried after Richard in an extremely discontented state of mind. +Not to be at the breakfast and see the best of the fun, disgusted him. +However, he remembered that he was a philosopher, and the strong disgust +he felt was only expressed in concentrated cynicism on every earthly +matter engendered by the conversation. They walked side by side into +Kensington Gardens. The hero was mouthing away to himself, talking by +fits. + +Presently he faced Adrian, crying: "And I might have stopped it! I see +it now! I might have stopped it by going straight to him, and asking him +if he dared marry a girl who did not love him. And I never thought of +it. Good heaven! I feel this miserable affair on my conscience." + +"Ah!" groaned Adrian. "An unpleasant cargo for the conscience, that! I +would rather carry anything on mine than a married couple. Do you +purpose going to him now?" + +The hero soliloquized: "He's not a bad sort of man."... + +"Well, he's not a Cavalier," said Adrian, "and that's why you wonder your +aunt selected him, no doubt? He's decidedly of the Roundhead type, with +the Puritan extracted, or inoffensive, if latent." + +"There's the double infamy!" cried Richard, "that a man you can't call +bad, should do this damned thing!" + +"Well, it's hard we can't find a villain." + +"He would have listened to me, I'm sure." + +"Go to him now, Richard, my son. Go to him now. It's not yet too late. +Who knows? If he really has a noble elevated superior mind--though not a +Cavalier in person, he may be one at heart--he might, to please you, and +since you put such stress upon it, abstain...perhaps with some loss of +dignity, but never mind. And the request might be singular, or seem so, +but everything has happened before in this world, you know, my dear boy. +And what an infinite consolation it is for the eccentric, that +reflection!" + +The hero was impervious to the wise youth. He stared at him as if he +were but a speck in the universe he visioned. + +It was provoking that Richard should be Adrian's best subject for cynical +pastime, in the extraordinary heterodoxies he started, and his worst in +the way he took it; and the wise youth, against his will, had to feel as +conscious of the young man's imaginative mental armour, as he was of his +muscular physical. + +"The same sort of day!" mused Richard, looking up. "I suppose my +father's right. We make our own fates, and nature has nothing to do with +it." + +Adrian yawned. + +"Some difference in the trees, though," Richard continued abstractedly. + +"Growing bald at the top," said Adrian. + +"Will you believe that my aunt Helen compared the conduct of that +wretched slave Clare to Lucy's, who, she had the cruel insolence to say, +entangled me into marriage?" the hero broke out loudly and rapidly. "You +know--I told you, Adrian--how I had to threaten and insist, and how she +pleaded, and implored me to wait." + +"Ah! hum!" mumbled Adrian. + +"You remember my telling you?" Richard was earnest to hear her +exonerated. + +"Pleaded and implored, my dear boy? Oh, no doubt she did. Where's the +lass that doesn't." + +"Call my wife by another name, if you please." + +"The generic title can't be cancelled because of your having married one +of the body, my son." + +"She did all she could to persuade me to wait!" emphasized Richard. + +Adrian shook his head with a deplorable smile. + +"Come, come, my good Ricky; not all! not all!" + +Richard bellowed: "What more could she have done?" + +"She could have shaved her head, for instance." + +This happy shaft did stick. With a furious exclamation Richard shot in +front, Adrian following him; and asking him (merely to have his +assumption verified), whether he did not think she might have shaved her +head? and, presuming her to have done so, whether, in candour, he did not +think he would have waited--at least till she looked less of a rank +lunatic? + +After a minute or so, the wise youth was but a fly buzzing about +Richard's head. Three weeks of separation from Lucy, and an excitement +deceased, caused him to have soft yearnings for the dear lovely home- +face. He told Adrian it was his intention to go down that night. Adrian +immediately became serious. He was at a loss what to invent to detain +him, beyond the stale fiction that his father was coming to-morrow. He +rendered homage to the genius of woman in these straits. "My aunt," he +thought, "would have the lie ready; and not only that, but she would take +care it did its work." + +At this juncture the voice of a cavalier in the Row hailed them, proving +to be the Honourable Peter Brayder, Lord Mountfalcon's parasite. He +greeted them very cordially; and Richard, remembering some fun they had +in the Island, asked him to dine with them; postponing his return till +the next day. Lucy was his. It was even sweet to dally with the delight +of seeing her. + +The Hon. Peter was one who did honour to the body he belonged to. Though +not so tall as a west of London footman, he was as shapely; and he had a +power of making his voice insinuating, or arrogant, as it suited the +exigencies of his profession. He had not a rap of money in the world; +yet he rode a horse, lived high, expended largely. The world said that +the Hon. Peter was salaried by his Lordship, and that, in common with +that of Parasite, he exercised the ancient companion profession. This +the world said, and still smiled at the Hon. Peter; for he was an +engaging fellow, and where he went not Lord Mountfalcon would not go. + +They had a quiet little hotel dinner, ordered by Adrian, and made a +square at the table, Ripton Thompson being the fourth. Richard sent down +to his office to fetch him, and the two friends shook hands for the first +time since the great deed had been executed. Deep was the Old Dog's +delight to hear the praises of his Beauty sounded by such aristocratic +lips as the Hon. Peter Brayder's. All through the dinner he was throwing +out hints and small queries to get a fuller account of her; and when the +claret had circulated, he spoke a word or two himself, and heard the Hon. +Peter eulogize his taste, and wish him a bride as beautiful; at which +Ripton blushed, and said, he had no hope of that, and the Hon. Peter +assured him marriage did not break the mould. + +After the wine this gentleman took his cigar on the balcony, and found +occasion to get some conversation with Adrian alone. + +"Our young friend here--made it all right with the governor?" he asked +carelessly. + +"Oh yes!" said Adrian. But it struck him that Brayder might be of +assistance in showing Richard a little of the `society in every form' +required by his chief's prescript. "That is," he continued, "we are not +yet permitted an interview with the august author of our being, and I +have rather a difficult post. 'Tis mine both to keep him here, and also +to find him the opportunity to measure himself with his fellow-man. In +other words, his father wants him to see something of life before he +enters upon housekeeping. Now I am proud to confess that I'm hardly +equal to the task. The demi, or damnedmonde--if it's that lie wants him +to observe--is one that I leave not got the walk to." + +"Ha! ha!" laughed Brayder. "You do the keeping, I offer to parade the +demi. I must say, though, it's a queer notion of the old gentleman." + +"It's the continuation of a philosophic plan," said Adrian. + +Brayder followed the curvings of the whiff of his cigar with his eyes, +and ejaculated, "Infernally philosophic!" + +"Has Lord Mountfalcon left the island?" Adrian inquired. + +"Mount? to tell the truth I don't know where he is. Chasing some light +craft, I suppose. That's poor Mount's weakness. It's his ruin, poor +fellow! He's so confoundedly in earnest at the game." + +"He ought to know it by this time, if fame speaks true," remarked Adrian. + +"He's a baby about women, and always will be," said Brayder. "He's been +once or twice wanting to marry them. Now there's a woman--you've heard +of Mrs. Mount? All the world knows her.--If that woman hadn't +scandalized."--The young man joined them, and checked the communication. +Brayder winked to Adrian, and pitifully indicated the presence of an +innocent. + +"A married man, you know," said Adrian. + +"Yes, yes!--we won't shock him," Brayder observed. He appeared to study +the young man while they talked. + +Next morning Richard was surprised by a visit from his aunt. Mrs. Doria +took a seat by his side and spoke as follows: + +"My dear nephew. Now you know I have always loved you, and thought of +your welfare as if you had been my own child. More than that, I fear. +Well, now, you are thinking of returning to--to that place--are you not? +Yes. It is as I thought. Very well now, let me speak to you. You are +in a much more dangerous position than you imagine. I don't deny your +father's affection for you. It would be absurd to deny it. But you are +of an age now to appreciate his character. Whatever you may do he will +always give you money. That you are sure of; that you know. Very well. +But you are one to want more than money: you want his love. Richard, I +am convinced you will never be happy, whatever base pleasures you may be +led into, if he should withhold his love from you. Now, child, you know +you have grievously offended him. I wish not to animadvert on your +conduct.--You fancied yourself in love, and so on, and you were rash. +The less said of it the better now. But you must now--it is your duty +now to do something--to do everything that lies in your power to show him +you repent. No interruptions! Listen to me. You must consider him. +Austin is not like other men. Austin requires the most delicate +management. You must--whether you feel it or no--present an appearance +of contrition. I counsel it for the good of all. He is just like a +woman, and where his feelings are offended he wants utter subservience. +He has you in town, and he does not see you:--now you know that he and I +are not in communication: we have likewise our differences:--Well, he has +you in town, and he holds aloof:--he is trying you, my dear Richard. No: +he is not at Raynham: I do not know where he is. He is trying you, +child, and you must be patient. You must convince him that you do not +care utterly for your own gratification. If this person--I wish to speak +of her with respect, for your sake--well, if she loves you at all--if, I +say, she loves you one atom, she will repeat my solicitations for you to +stay and patiently wait here till he consents to see you. I tell you +candidly, it's your only chance of ever getting him to receive her. That +you should know. And now, Richard, I may add that there is something +else you should know. You should know that it depends entirely upon your +conduct now, whether you are to see your father's heart for ever divided +from you, and a new family at Raynham. You do not understand? I will +explain. Brothers and sisters are excellent things for young people, but +a new brood of them can hardly be acceptable to a young man. In fact, +they are, and must be, aliens. I only tell you what I have heard on good +authority. Don't you understand now? Foolish boy! if you do not humour +him, he will marry her. Oh! I am sure of it. I know it. And this you +will drive him to. I do not warn you on the score of your prospects, but +of your feelings. I should regard such a contingency, Richard, as a +final division between you. Think of the scandal! but alas, that is the +least of the evils." + +It was Mrs. Doria's object to produce an impression, and avoid an +argument. She therefore left him as soon as she had, as she supposed, +made her mark on the young man. Richard was very silent during the +speech, and save for an exclamation or so, had listened attentively. He +pondered on what his aunt said. He loved Lady Blandish, and yet he did +not wish to see her Lady Feverel. Mrs. Doria laid painful stress on the +scandal, and though he did not give his mind to this, he thought of it. +He thought of his mother. Where was she? But most his thoughts recurred +to his father, and something akin to jealousy slowly awakened his heart +to him. He had given him up, and had not latterly felt extremely filial; +but he could not bear the idea of a division in the love of which he had +ever been the idol and sole object. And such a man, too! so good! so +generous! If it was jealousy that roused the young man's heart to his +father, the better part of love was also revived in it. He thought of +old days: of his father's forbearance, his own wilfulness. He looked on +himself, and what he had done, with the eyes of such a man. He +determined to do all he could to regain his favour. + +Mrs. Doria learnt from Adrian in the evening that her nephew intended +waiting in town another week. + +"That will do," smiled Mrs. Doria. "He will be more patient at the end +of a week." + +"Oh! does patience beget patience?" said Adrian. "I was not aware it was +a propagating virtue. I surrender him to you. I shan't be able to hold +him in after one week more. I assure you, my dear aunt, he's already"... + +"Thank you, no explanation," Mrs. Doria begged. + +When Richard saw her nest, he was informed that she had received a most +satisfactory letter from Mrs. John Todhunter: quite a glowing account of +John's behaviour: but on Richard's desiring to know the words Clare had +written, Mrs. Doria objected to be explicit, and shot into worldly +gossip. + +"Clare seldom glows," said Richard. + +"No, I mean for her," his aunt remarked. "Don't look like your father, +child." + +"I should like to have seen the letter," said Richard. + +Mrs. Doria did not propose to show it. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI + +A Lady driving a pair of greys was noticed by Richard in his rides and +walks. She passed him rather obviously and often. She was very +handsome; a bold beauty, with shining black hair, red lips, and eyes not +afraid of men. The hair was brushed from her temples, leaving one of +those fine reckless outlines which the action of driving, and the pace, +admirably set off. She took his fancy. He liked the air of petulant +gallantry about her, and mused upon the picture, rare to him, of a +glorious dashing woman. He thought, too, she looked at him. He was not +at the time inclined to be vain, or he might have been sure she did. +Once it struck him she nodded slightly. + +He asked Adrian one day in the park--who she was. + +"I don't know her," said Adrian. "Probably a superior priestess of +Paphos." + +"Now that's my idea of Bellona," Richard exclaimed. "Not the fury they +paint, but a spirited, dauntless, eager-looking creature like that." + +"Bellona?" returned the wise youth. "I don't think her hair was black. +Red, wasn't it? I shouldn't compare her to Bellona; though, no doubt, +she's as ready to spill blood. Look at her! She does seem to scent +carnage. I see your idea. No; I should liken her to Diana emerged from +the tutorship of Master Endymion, and at nice play among the gods. +Depend upon it--they tell us nothing of the matter--Olympus shrouds the +story--but you may be certain that when she left the pretty shepherd she +had greater vogue than Venus up aloft." + +Brayder joined them. + +"See Mrs. Mount go by?" he said. + +"Oh, that's Mrs. Mount!" cried Adrian. + +"Who's Mrs. Mount?" Richard inquired. + +"A sister to Miss Random, my dear boy." + +"Like to know her?" drawled the Hon. Peter. + +Richard replied indifferently, "No," and Mrs. Mount passed out of sight +and out of the conversation. + +The young man wrote submissive letters to his father. "I have remained +here waiting to see you now five weeks," he wrote. "I have written to +you three letters, and you do not reply to them. Let me tell you again +how sincerely I desire and pray that you will come, or permit me to come +to you and throw myself at your feet, and beg my forgiveness, and hers. +She as earnestly implores it. Indeed, I am very wretched, sir. Believe +me, there is nothing I would not do to regain your esteem and the love I +fear I have unhappily forfeited. I will remain another week in the hope +of hearing from you, or seeing you. I beg of you, sir, not to drive me +mad. Whatever you ask of me I will consent to." + +"Nothing he would not do!" the baronet commented as he read. "There is +nothing he would not do! He will remain another week and give me that +final chance! And it is I who drive him mad! Already he is beginning to +cast his retribution on my shoulders." + +Sir Austin had really gone down to Wales to be out of the way. A +Shaddock-Dogmatist does not meet misfortune without hearing of it, and +the author of The Pilgrim'S Scrip in trouble found London too hot for +him. He quitted London to take refuge among the mountains; living there +in solitary commune with a virgin Note-book. + +Some indefinite scheme was in his head in this treatment of his son. Had +he construed it, it would have looked ugly; and it settled to a vague +principle that the young man should be tried and tested. + +"Let him learn to deny himself something. Let him live with his equals +for a term. If he loves me he will read my wishes." Thus he explained +his principle to Lady Blandish. + +The lady wrote: "You speak of a term. Till when? May I name one to him? +It is the dreadful uncertainty that reduces him to despair. That, and +nothing else. Pray be explicit." + +In return, he distantly indicated Richard's majority. + +How could Lady Blandish go and ask the young man to wait a year away from +his wife? Her instinct began to open a wide eye on the idol she +worshipped. + +When people do not themselves know what they mean, they succeed in +deceiving and imposing upon others. Not only was Lady Blandish +mystified; Mrs. Doria, who pierced into the recesses of everybody's mind, +and had always been in the habit of reading off her brother from infancy, +and had never known herself to be once wrong about him, she confessed she +was quite at a loss to comprehend Austin's principle. "For principle he +has," said Mrs. Doria; "he never acts without one. But what it is, I +cannot at present perceive. If he would write, and command the boy to +await his return, all would be clear. He allows us to go and fetch him, +and then leaves us all in a quandary. It must be some woman's influence. +That is the only way to account for it." + +"Singular!" interjected Adrian, "what pride women have in their sex! +Well, I have to tell you, my dear aunt, that the day after to-morrow I +hand my charge over to your keeping. I can't hold him in an hour longer. +I've had to leash him with lies till my invention's exhausted. I +petition to have them put down to the chief's account, but when the +stream runs dry I can do no more. The last was, that I had heard from +him desiring me to have the South-west bedroom ready for him on Tuesday +proximate. 'So!' says my son, 'I'll wait till then,' and from the +gigantic effort he exhibited in coming to it, I doubt any human power's +getting him to wait longer." + +"We must, we must detain him," said Mrs. Doria. "If we do not, I am +convinced Austin will do something rash that he will for ever repent. He +will marry that woman, Adrian. Mark my words. Now with any other young +man!... But Richard's education! that ridiculous System!... Has he no +distraction? nothing to amuse him?" + +"Poor boy! I suppose he wants his own particular playfellow." + +The wise youth had to bow to a reproof. + +"I tell you, Adrian, he will marry that woman." + +"My dear aunt! Can a chaste man do aught more commendable?" + +"Has the boy no object we can induce him to follow?--If he had but a +profession!" + +"What say you to the regeneration of the streets of London, and the +profession of moral-scavenger, aunt? I assure you I have served a +month's apprenticeship with him. We sally forth on the tenth hour of the +night. A female passes. I hear him groan. 'Is she one of them, +Adrian?' I am compelled to admit she is not the saint he deems it the +portion of every creature wearing petticoats to be. Another groan; an +evident internal, 'It cannot be--and yet!'...that we hear on the stage. +Rollings of eyes: impious questionings of the Creator of the universe; +savage mutterings against brutal males; and then we meet a second young +person, and repeat the performance--of which I am rather tired. It would +be all very well, but he turns upon me, and lectures me because I don't +hire a house, and furnish it for all the women one meets to live in in +purity. Now that's too much to ask of a quiet man. Master Thompson has +latterly relieved me, I'm happy to say." + +Mrs. Doria thought her thoughts. + +"Has Austin written to you since you were in town?" + +"Not an Aphorism!" returned Adrian. + +"I must see Richard to-morrow morning," Mrs. Doria ended the colloquy by +saying. + +The result of her interview with her nephew was, that Richard made no +allusion to a departure on the Tuesday; and for many days afterward he +appeared to have an absorbing business on his hands: but what it was +Adrian did not then learn, and his admiration of Mrs. Doria's genius for +management rose to a very high pitch. + +On a morning in October they had an early visitor in the person of the +Hon. Peter, whom they had not seen for a week or more. + +"Gentlemen," he said, flourishing his cane in his most affable manner, +"I've come to propose to you to join us in a little dinner-party at +Richmond. Nobody's in town, you know. London's as dead as a stock-fish. +Nothing but the scrapings to offer you. But the weather's fine: I +flatter myself you'll find the company agreeable, What says my friend +Feverel?" + +Richard begged to be excused. + +"No, no: positively you must come," said the Hon. Peter. "I've had some +trouble to get them together to relieve the dulness of your +incarceration. Richmond's within the rules of your prison. You can be +back by night. Moonlight on the water--lovely woman. We've engaged a +city-barge to pull us back. Eight oars--I'm not sure it isn't sixteen. +Come--the word!" + +Adrian was for going. Richard said he had an appointment with Ripton. + +"You're in for another rick, you two," said Adrian. "Arrange that we go. +You haven't seen the cockney's Paradise. Abjure Blazes, and taste of +peace, my son." + +After some persuasion, Richard yawned wearily, and got up, and threw +aside the care that was on him, saying, "Very well. Just as you like. +We'll take old Rip with us." + +Adrian consulted Brayder's eye at this. The Hon. Peter briskly declared +he should be delighted to have Feverel's friend, and offered to take them +all down in his drag. + +"If you don't get a match on to swim there with the tide--eh, Feverel, my +boy?" + +Richard replied that he had given up that sort of thing, at which Brayder +communicated a queer glance to Adrian, and applauded the youth. + +Richmond was under a still October sun. The pleasant landscape, bathed +in Autumn, stretched from the foot of the hill to a red horizon haze. +The day was like none that Richard vividly remembered. It touched no +link in the chain of his recollection. It was quiet, and belonged to the +spirit of the season. + +Adrian had divined the character of the scrapings they were to meet. +Brayder introduced them to one or two of the men, hastily and in rather +an undervoice, as a thing to get over. They made their bow to the first +knot of ladies they encountered. Propriety was observed strictly, even +to severity. The general talk was of the weather. Here and there a lady +would seize a button-hole or any little bit of the habiliments, of the +man she was addressing; and if it came to her to chide him, she did it +with more than a forefinger. This, however, was only here and there, and +a privilege of intimacy. + +Where ladies are gathered together, the Queen of the assemblage may be +known by her Court of males. The Queen of the present gathering leaned +against a corner of the open window, surrounded by a stalwart Court, in +whom a practised eye would have discerned guardsmen, and Ripton, with a +sinking of the heart, apprehended lords. They were fine men, offering +inanimate homage. The trim of their whiskerage, the cut of their coats, +the high-bred indolence in their aspect, eclipsed Ripton's sense of self- +esteem. But they kindly looked over him. Occasionally one committed a +momentary outrage on him with an eye-glass, seeming to cry out in a voice +of scathing scorn, "Who's this?" and Ripton got closer to his hero to +justify his humble pretensions to existence and an identity in the shadow +of him. Richard gazed about. Heroes do not always know what to say or +do; and the cold bath before dinner in strange company is one of the +instances. He had recognized his superb Bellona in the lady by the +garden window. For Brayder the men had nods and yokes, the ladies a +pretty playfulness. He was very busy, passing between the groups, +chatting, laughing, taking the feminine taps he received, and sometimes +returning them in sly whispers. Adrian sat down and crossed his legs, +looking amused and benignant. + +"Whose dinner is it?" Ripton heard a mignonne beauty ask of a cavalier. + +"Mount's, I suppose," was the answer. + +"Where is he? Why don't he come?" + +"An affaire, I fancy." + +"There he is again! How shamefully he treats Mrs. Mount!" + +"She don't seem to cry over it." + +Mrs. Mount was flashing her teeth and eyes with laughter at one of her +Court, who appeared to be Fool. + +Dinner was announced. The ladies proclaimed extravagant appetites. +Brayder posted his three friends. Ripton found himself under the lee of +a dame with a bosom. On the other aide of him was the mignonne. Adrian +was at the lower end of the table. Ladies were in profusion, and he had +his share. Brayder drew Richard from seat to seat. A happy man had +established himself next to Mrs. Mount. Him Brayder hailed to take the +head of the table. The happy man objected, Brayder continued urgent, the +lady tenderly insisted, the happy man grimaced, dropped into the post of +honour, strove to look placable. Richard usurped his chair, and was not +badly welcomed by his neighbour. + +Then the dinner commenced, and had all the attention of the company, till +the flying of the first champagne-cork gave the signal, and a hum began +to spread. Sparkling wine, that looseneth the tongue, and displayeth the +verity, hath also the quality of colouring it. The ladies laughed high; +Richard only thought them gay and natural. They flung back in their chairs +and laughed to tears; Ripton thought only of the pleasure he had in their +society. The champagne-corks continued a regular file-firing. + +"Where have you been lately? I haven't seen you in the park," said Mrs. +Mount to Richard. + +"No," he replied, "I've not been there." The question seemed odd: she +spoke so simply that it did not impress him. He emptied his glass, and +had it filled again. + +The Hon. Peter did most of the open talking, which related to horses, +yachting, opera, and sport generally: who was ruined; by what horse, or +by what woman. He told one or two of Richard's feats. Fair smiles +rewarded the hero. + +"Do you bet?" said Mrs. Mount. + +"Only on myself," returned Richard. + +"Bravo!" cried his Bellona, and her eye sent a lingering delirious +sparkle across her brimming glass at him. + +"I'm sure you're a safe one to back," she added, and seemed to scan his +points approvingly. + +Richard's cheeks mounted bloom. + +"Don't you adore champagne?" quoth the dame with a bosom to Ripton. + +"Oh, yes!" answered Ripton, with more candour than accuracy, "I always +drink it." + +"Do you indeed?" said the enraptured bosom, ogling him. "You would be a +friend, now! I hope you don't object to a lady joining you now and then. +Champagne's my folly." + +A laugh was circling among the ladies of whom Adrian was the centre; +first low, and as he continued some narration, peals resounded, till +those excluded from the fun demanded the cue, and ladies leaned behind +gentlemen to take it up, and formed an electric chain of laughter. Each +one, as her ear received it, caught up her handkerchief, and laughed, and +looked shocked afterwards, or looked shocked and then spouted laughter. +The anecdote might have been communicated to the bewildered cavaliers, +but coming to a lady of a demurer cast, she looked shocked without +laughing, and reproved the female table, in whose breasts it was +consigned to burial: but here and there a man's head was seen bent, and a +lady's mouth moved, though her face was not turned toward him, and a +man's broad laugh was presently heard, while the lady gazed unconsciously +before her, and preserved her gravity if she could escape any other +lady's eyes; failing in which, handkerchiefs were simultaneously seized, +and a second chime arose, till the tickling force subsided to a few +chance bursts. + +What nonsense it is that my father writes about women! thought Richard. +He says they can't laugh, and don't understand humour. It comes, he +reflected, of his shutting himself from the world. And the idea that he +was seeing the world, and feeling wiser, flattered him. He talked +fluently to his dangerous Bellona. He gave her some reminiscences of +Adrian's whimsies. + +"Oh!" said she, "that's your tutor, is it!" She eyed the young man as if +she thought he must go far and fast. + +Ripton felt a push. "Look at that," said the bosom, fuming utter +disgust. He was directed to see a manly arm round the waist of the +mignonne. "Now that's what I don't like in company," the bosom inflated +to observe with sufficient emphasis. "She always will allow it with +everybody. Give her a nudge." + +Ripton protested that he dared not; upon which she said, "Then I will"; +and inclined her sumptuous bust across his lap, breathing wine in his +face, and gave the nudge. The mignonne turned an inquiring eye on +Ripton; a mischievous spark shot from it. She laughed, and said; "Aren't +you satisfied with the old girl?" + +"Impudence!" muttered the bosom, growing grander and redder. + +"Do, do fill her glass, and keep her quiet--she drinks port when there's +no more champagne," said the mignonne. + +The bosom revenged herself by whispering to Ripton scandal of the +mignonne, and between them he was enabled to form a correcter estimate of +the company, and quite recovered from his original awe: so much so as to +feel a touch of jealousy at seeing his lively little neighbour still held +in absolute possession. + +Mrs. Mount did not come out much; but there was a deferential manner in +the bearing of the men toward her, which those haughty creatures accord +not save to clever women; and she contrived to hold the talk with three +or four at the head of the table while she still had passages aside with +Richard. + +The port and claret went very well after the champagne. The ladies here +did not ignominiously surrender the field to the gentlemen; they +maintained their position with honour. Silver was seen far out on +Thames. The wine ebbed, and the laughter. Sentiment and cigars took up +the wondrous tale. + +"Oh, what a lovely night!" said the ladies, looking above. + +"Charming," said the gentlemen, looking below. + +The faint-smelling cool Autumn air was pleasant after the feast. +Fragrant weeds burned bright about the garden. + +"We are split into couples," said Adrian to Richard, who was standing +alone, eying the landscape. "Tis the influence of the moon! Apparently +we are in Cyprus. How has my son enjoyed himself? How likes he the +society of Aspasia? I feel like a wise Greek to-night." + +Adrian was jolly, and rolled comfortably as he talked. Ripton had been +carried off by the sentimental bosom. He came up to them and whispered: +"By Jove, Ricky! do you know what sort of women these are?" + +Richard said he thought them a nice sort. + +"Puritan!" exclaimed Adrian, slapping Ripton on the back. "Why didn't +you get tipsy, sir? Don't you ever intoxicate yourself except at lawful +marriages? Reveal to us what you have done with the portly dame?" + +Ripton endured his bantering that he might hang about Richard, and watch +over him. He was jealous of his innocent Beauty's husband being in +proximity with such women. Murmuring couples passed them to and fro. + +"By Jove, Ricky!" Ripton favoured his friend with another hard whisper, +"there's a woman smoking!" + +"And why not, O Riptonus?" said Adrian. "Art unaware that woman +cosmopolitan is woman consummate? and dost grumble to pay the small price +for the splendid gem?" + +"Well, I don't like women to smoke," said plain Ripton. + +"Why mayn't they do what men do?" the hero cried impetuously. "I hate +that contemptible narrow-mindedness. It's that makes the ruin and +horrors I see. Why mayn't they do what men do? I like the women who are +brave enough not to be hypocrites. By heaven! if these women are bad, I +like them better than a set of hypocritical creatures who are all show, +and deceive you in the end." + +"Bravo!" shouted Adrian. "There speaks the regenerator." + +Ripton, as usual, was crushed by his leader. He had no argument. He +still thought women ought not to smoke; and he thought of one far away, +lonely by the sea, who was perfect without being cosmopolitan. + +The Pilgrim's Scrip remarks that: "Young men take joy in nothing so much +as the thinking women Angels: and nothing sours men of experience more +than knowing that all are not quite so." + +The Aphorist would have pardoned Ripton Thompson his first Random +extravagance, had he perceived the simple warm-hearted worship of +feminine goodness Richard's young bride had inspired in the breast of the +youth. It might possibly have taught him to put deeper trust in our +nature. + +Ripton thought of her, and had a feeling of sadness. He wandered about +the grounds by himself, went through an open postern, and threw himself +down among some bushes on the slope of the hill. Lying there, and +meditating, he became aware of voices conversing. + +"What does he want?" said a woman's voice. "It's another of his +villanies, I know. Upon my honour, Brayder, when I think of what I have +to reproach him for, I think I must go mad, or kill him." + +"Tragic!" said the Hon. Peter. "Haven't you revenged yourself, Bella, +pretty often? Best deal openly. This is a commercial transaction. You +ask for money, and you are to have it--on the conditions: double the sum, +and debts paid." + +"He applies to me!" + +"You know, my dear Bella, it has long been all up between you. I think +Mount has behaved very well, considering all he knows. He's not easily +hoodwinked, you know. He resigns himself to his fate and follows other +game." + +"Then the condition is, that I am to seduce this young man?" + +"My dear Bella! you strike your bird like a hawk. I didn't say seduce. +Hold him in--play with him. Amuse him." + +"I don't understand half-measures." + +"Women seldom do." + +"How I hate you, Brayder!" + +"I thank your ladyship." + +The two walked farther. Ripton had heard some little of the colloquy. +He left the spot in a serious mood, apprehensive of something dark to the +people he loved, though he had no idea of what the Hon. Peter's +stipulation involved. + +On the voyage back to town, Richard was again selected to sit by Mrs. +Mount. Brayder and Adrian started the jokes. The pair of parasites got +on extremely well together. Soft fell the plash of the oars; softly the +moonlight curled around them; softly the banks glided by. The ladies +were in a state of high sentiment. They sang without request. All +deemed the British ballad-monger an appropriate interpreter of their +emotions. After good wine, and plenty thereof, fair throats will make +men of taste swallow that remarkable composer. Eyes, lips, hearts; darts +and smarts and sighs; beauty, duty; bosom, blossom; false one, farewell! +To this pathetic strain they melted. Mrs. Mount, though strongly +requested, declined to sing. She preserved her state. Under the tall +aspens of Brentford-ait, and on they swept, the white moon in their wake. +Richard's hand lay open by his side. Mrs. Mount's little white hand by +misadventure fell into it. It was not pressed, or soothed for its fall, +or made intimate with eloquent fingers. It lay there like a bit of snow +on the cold ground. A yellow leaf wavering down from the aspens struck +Richard's cheek, and he drew away the very hand to throw back his hair +and smooth his face, and then folded his arms, unconscious of offence. +He was thinking ambitiously of his life: his blood was untroubled, his +brain calmly working. + +"Which is the more perilous?" is a problem put by the Pilgrim: "To meet +the temptings of Eve, or to pique her?" + +Mrs. Mount stared at the young man as at a curiosity, and turned to flirt +with one of her Court. The Guardsmen were mostly sentimental. One or +two rattled, and one was such a good-humoured fellow that Adrian could +not make him ridiculous. The others seemed to give themselves up to a +silent waxing in length of limb. However far they sat removed, everybody +was entangled in their legs. Pursuing his studies, Adrian came to the +conclusion, that the same close intellectual and moral affinity which he +had discovered to exist between our nobility and our yeomanry, is to be +observed between the Guardsman class, and that of the corps de ballet: +they both live by the strength of their legs, where also their wits, if +they do not altogether reside there, are principally developed: both are +volage; wine, tobacco, and the moon, influence both alike; and admitting +the one marked difference that does exist, it is, after all, pretty +nearly the same thing to be coquetting and sinning on two legs as on the +point of a toe. + +A long Guardsman with a deep bass voice sang a doleful song about the +twining tendrils of the heart ruthlessly torn, but required urgent +persuasions and heavy trumpeting of his lungs to get to the end: before +he had accomplished it, Adrian had contrived to raise a laugh in his +neighbourhood, so that the company was divided, and the camp split: +jollity returned to one-half, while sentiment held the other. Ripton, +blotted behind the bosom, was only lucky in securing a higher degree of +heat than was possible for the rest. "Are you cold?" she would ask, +smiling charitably. + +"I am," said the mignonne, as if to excuse her conduct. + +"You always appear to be," the fat one sniffed and snapped. + +"Won't you warm two, Mrs. Mortimer?" said the naughty little woman. + +Disdain prevented any further notice of her. Those familiar with the +ladies enjoyed their sparring, which was frequent. The mignonne was +heard to whisper: "That poor fellow will certainly be stewed." + +Very prettily the ladies took and gave warmth, for the air on the water +was chill and misty. Adrian had beside him the demure one who had +stopped the circulation of his anecdote. She in nowise objected to the +fair exchange, but said "Hush!" betweenwhiles. + +Past Kew and Hammersmith, on the cool smooth water; across Putney reach; +through Battersea bridge; and the City grew around them, and the shadows +of great mill-factories slept athwart the moonlight. + +All the ladies prattled sweetly of a charming day when they alighted on +land. Several cavaliers crushed for the honour of conducting Mrs. Mount +to her home. + +"My brougham's here; I shall go alone," said Mrs. Mount. "Some one +arrange my shawl." + +She turned her back to Richard, who had a view of a delicate neck as he +manipulated with the bearing of a mailed knight. + +"Which way are you going?" she asked carelessly, and, to his reply as to +the direction, said: "Then I can give you a lift," and she took his arm +with a matter-of-course air, and walked up the stairs with him. + +Ripton saw what had happened. He was going to follow: the portly dame +retained him, and desired him to get her a cab. + +"Oh, you happy fellow!" said the bright-eyed mignonne, passing by. + +Ripton procured the cab, and stuffed it full without having to get into +it himself. + +"Try and let him come in too?" said the persecuting creature, again +passing. + +"Take liberties with pour men--you shan't with me," retorted the angry +bosom, and drove off. + +"So she's been and gone and run away and left him after all his trouble!" +cried the pert little thing, peering into Ripton's eyes. "Now you'll +never be so foolish as to pin your faith to fat women again. There! he +shall be made happy another time." She gave his nose a comical tap, and +tripped away with her possessor. + +Ripton rather forgot his friend for some minutes: Random thoughts laid +hold of him. Cabs and carriages rattled past. He was sure he had been +among members of the nobility that day, though when they went by him now +they only recognized him with an effort of the eyelids. He began to +think of the day with exultation, as an event. Recollections of the +mignonne were captivating. "Blue eyes--just what I like! And such a +little impudent nose, and red lips, pouting--the very thing I like! And +her hair? darkish, I think--say brown. And so saucy, and light on her +feet. And kind she is, or she wouldn't have talked to me like that." +Thus, with a groaning soul, he pictured her. His reason voluntarily +consigned her to the aristocracy as a natural appanage: but he did +amorously wish that Fortune had made a lord of him. + +Then his mind reverted to Mrs. Mount, and the strange bits of the +conversation he had heard on the hill. He was not one to suspect anybody +positively. He was timid of fixing a suspicion. It hovered +indefinitely, and clouded people, without stirring him to any resolve. +Still the attentions of the lady toward Richard were queer. He +endeavoured to imagine they were in the nature of things, because Richard +was so handsome that any woman must take to him. "But he's married," +said Ripton, "and he mustn't go near these people if he's married." Not +a high morality, perhaps better than none at all: better for the world +were it practised more. He thought of Richard along with that sparkling +dame, alone with her. The adorable beauty of his dear bride, her pure +heavenly face, swam before him. Thinking of her, he lost sight of the +mignonne who had made him giddy. + +He walked to Richard's hotel, and up and down the street there, hoping +every minute to hear his step; sometimes fancying he might have returned +and gone to bed. Two o'clock struck. Ripton could not go away. He was +sure he should not sleep if he did. At last the cold sent him homeward, +and leaving the street, on the moonlight side of Piccadilly he met his +friend patrolling with his head up and that swing of the feet proper to +men who are chanting verses. + +"Old Rip!" cried Richard, cheerily. "What on earth are you doing here at +this hour of the morning?" + +Ripton muttered of his pleasure at meeting him. "I wanted to shake your +hand before I went home." + +Richard smiled on him in an amused kindly way. "That all? You may shake +my hand any day, like a true man as you are, old Rip! I've been speaking +about you. Do you know, that--Mrs. Mount--never saw you all the time at +Richmond, or in the boat!" + +"Oh!" Ripton said, well assured that he was a dwarf "you saw her safe +home?" + +"Yes. I've been there for the last couple of hours--talking. She talks +capitally: she's wonderfully clever. She's very like a man, only much +nicer. I like her." + +"But, Richard, excuse me--I'm sure I don't mean to offend you--but now +you're married...perhaps you couldn't help seeing her home, but I think +you really indeed oughtn't to have gone upstairs." + +Ripton delivered this opinion with a modest impressiveness. + +"What do you mean?" said Richard. "You don't suppose I care for any +woman but my little darling down there." He laughed. + +"No; of course not. That's absurd. What I mean is, that people perhaps +will--you know, they do--they say all manner of things, and that makes +unhappiness; and I do wish you were going home to-morrow, Ricky. I mean, +to your dear wife." Ripton blushed and looked away as he spoke. + +The hero gave one of his scornful glances. "So you're anxious about my +reputation. I hate that way of looking on women. Because they have been +once misled--look how much weaker they are!--because the world has given +them an ill fame, you would treat them as contagious and keep away from +them for the sake of your character! + +"It would be different with me," quoth Ripton. + +"How?" asked the hero. + +"Because I'm worse than you," was all the logical explanation Ripton was +capable of. + +"I do hope you will go home soon," he added. + +"Yes," said Richard, "and I, so do I hope so. But I've work to do now. +I dare not, I cannot, leave it. Lucy would be the last to ask me;--you +saw her letter yesterday. Now listen to me, Rip. I want to make you be +just to women." + +Then he read Ripton a lecture on erring women, speaking of them as if he +had known them and studied them for years. Clever, beautiful, but +betrayed by love, it was the first duty of all true men to cherish and +redeem them. "We turn them into curses, Rip; these divine creatures." +And the world suffered for it. That--that was the root of all the evil +in the world! + +"I don't feel anger or horror at these poor women, Rip! It's strange. I +knew what they were when we came home in the boat. But I do--it tears my +heart to see a young girl given over to an old man--a man she doesn't +love. That's shame!--Don't speak of it." + +Forgetting to contest the premiss, that all betrayed women are betrayed +by love, Ripton was quite silenced. He, like most young men, had +pondered somewhat on this matter, and was inclined to be sentimental when +be was not hungry. They walked in the moonlight by the railings of the +park. Richard harangued at leisure, while Ripton's teeth chattered. +Chivalry might be dead, but still there was something to do, went the +strain. The lady of the day had not been thrown in the hero's path +without an object, he said; and he was sadly right there. He did not +express the thing clearly; nevertheless Ripton understood him to mean, he +intended to rescue that lady from further transgressions, and show a +certain scorn of the world. That lady, and then other ladies unknown, +were to be rescued. Ripton was to help. He and Ripton were to be the +knights of this enterprise. When appealed to, Ripton acquiesced, and +shivered. Not only were they to be knights, they would have to be +Titans, for the powers of the world, the spurious ruling Social Gods, +would have to be defied and overthrown. And Titan number one flung up +his handsome bold face as if to challenge base Jove on the spot; and +Titan number two strained the upper button of his coat to meet across his +pocket-handkerchief on his chest, and warmed his fingers under his coat- +tails. The moon had fallen from her high seat and was in the mists of +the West, when he was allowed to seek his blankets, and the cold acting +on his friend's eloquence made Ripton's flesh very contrite. The poor +fellow had thinner blood than the hero; but his heart was good. By the +time he had got a little warmth about him, his heart gratefully strove to +encourage him in the conception of becoming a knight and a Titan; and so +striving Ripton fell asleep and dreamed. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII + + +Behold the hero embarked in the redemption of an erring beautiful woman. + +"Alas!" writes the Pilgrim at this very time to Lady Blandish, "I cannot +get that legend of the Serpent from me, the more I think. Has he not +caught you, and ranked you foremost in his legions? For see: till you +were fashioned, the fruits hung immobile on the boughs. They swayed +before us, glistening and cold. The hand must be eager that plucked +them. They did not come down to us, and smile, and speak our language, +and read our thoughts, and know when to fly, when to follow! how surely +to have us! + +"Do but mark one of you standing openly in the track of the Serpent. +What shall be done with her? I fear the world is wiser than its judges! +Turn from her, says the world. By day the sons of the world do. It +darkens, and they dance together downward. Then comes there one of the +world's elect who deems old counsel devilish; indifference to the end of +evil worse than its pursuit. He comes to reclaim her. From deepest bane +will he bring her back to highest blessing. Is not that a bait already? +Poor fish! 'tis wondrous flattering. The Serpent has slimed her so to +secure him! With slow weary steps he draws her into light: she clings to +him; she is human; part of his work, and he loves it. As they mount +upward, he looks on her more, while she, it may be, looks above. What +has touched him? What has passed out of her, and into him? The Serpent +laughs below. At the gateways of the Sun they fall together!" + +This alliterative production was written without any sense of the peril +that makes prophecy. + +It suited Sir Austin to write thus. It was a channel to his acrimony +moderated through his philosophy. The letter was a reply to a vehement +entreaty from Lady Blandish for him to come up to Richard and forgive him +thoroughly: Richard's name was not mentioned in it. + +"He tries to be more than he is," thought the lady: and she began +insensibly to conceive him less than he was. + +The baronet was conscious of a certain false gratification in his son's +apparent obedience to his wishes and complete submission; a gratification +he chose to accept as his due, without dissecting or accounting for it. +The intelligence reiterating that Richard waited, and still waited; +Richard's letters, and more his dumb abiding and practical penitence; +vindicated humanity sufficiently to stop the course of virulent +aphorisms. He could speak, we have seen, in sorrow for this frail nature +of ours, that he had once stood forth to champion. "But how long will +this last?" he demanded, with the air of Hippias. He did not reflect how +long it had lasted. Indeed, his indigestion of wrath had made of him a +moral Dyspepsy. + +It was not mere obedience that held Richard from the aims of his young +wife: nor was it this new knightly enterprise he had presumed to +undertake. Hero as he was, a youth, open to the insane promptings of hot +blood, he was not a fool. There had been talk between him and Mrs. Doria +of his mother. Now that he had broken from his father, his heart spoke +for her. She lived, he knew: he knew no more. Words painfully hovering +along the borders of plain speech had been communicated to him, filling +him with moody imaginings. If he thought of her, the red was on his +face, though he could not have said why. But now, after canvassing the +conduct of his father, and throwing him aside as a terrible riddle, he +asked Mrs. Doria to tell him of his other parent. As softly as she could +she told the story. To her the shame was past: she could weep for the +poor lady. Richard dropped no tears. Disgrace of this kind is always +present to a son, and, educated as he had been, these tidings were a +vivid fire in his brain. He resolved to hunt her out, and take her from +the man. Here was work set to his hand. All her dear husband did was +right to Lucy. She encouraged him to stay for that purpose, thinking it +also served another. There was Tom Bakewell to watch over Lucy: there +was work for him to do. Whether it would please his father he did not +stop to consider. As to the justice of the act, let us say nothing. + +On Ripton devolved the humbler task of grubbing for Sandoe's place of +residence; and as he was unacquainted with the name by which the poet now +went in private, his endeavours were not immediately successful. The +friends met in the evening at Lady Blandish's town-house, or at the +Foreys', where Mrs. Doria procured the reverer of the Royal Martyr, and +staunch conservative, a favourable reception. Pity, deep pity for +Richard's conduct Ripton saw breathing out of Mrs. Doria. Algernon +Feverel treated his nephew with a sort of rough commiseration, as a young +fellow who had run off the road. + +Pity was in Lady Blandish's eyes, though for a different cause. She +doubted if she did well in seconding his father's unwise scheme-- +supposing him to have a scheme. She saw the young husband encompassed by +dangers at a critical time. Not a word of Mrs. Mount had been breathed +to her, but the lady had some knowledge of life. She touched on delicate +verges to the baronet in her letters, and he understood her well enough. +"If he loves this person to whom he has bound himself, what fear for him? +Or are you coming to think it something that bears the name of love +because we have to veil the rightful appellation?" So he responded, +remote among the mountains. She tried very hard to speak plainly. +Finally he came to say that he denied himself the pleasure of seeing his +son specially, that he for a time might be put to the test the lady +seemed to dread. This was almost too much for Lady Blandish. Love's +charity boy so loftily serene now that she saw him half denuded--a thing +of shanks and wrists--was a trial for her true heart. + +Going home at night Richard would laugh at the faces made about his +marriage. "We'll carry the day, Rip, my Lucy and I! or I'll do it alone- +-what there is to do." He slightly adverted to a natural want of courage +in women, which Ripton took to indicate that his Beauty was deficient in +that quality. Up leapt the Old Dog; "I'm sure there never was a braver +creature upon earth, Richard! She's as brave as she's lovely, I'll swear +she is! Look how she behaved that day! How her voice sounded! She was +trembling... Brave? She'd follow you into battle, Richard!" + +And Richard rejoined: "Talk on, dear old Rip! She's my darling love, +whatever she is! And she is gloriously lovely. No eyes are like hers. +I'll go down to-morrow morning the first thing." + +Ripton only wondered the husband of such a treasure could remain apart +from it. So thought Richard for a space. + +"But if I go, Rip," he said despondently, "if I go for a day even I shall +have undone all my work with my father. She says it herself--you saw it +in her last letter." + +"Yes," Ripton assented, and the words "Please remember me to dear Mr. +Thompson," fluttered about the Old Dog's heart. + +It came to pass that Mrs. Berry, having certain business that led her +through Kensington Gardens, spied a figure that she had once dandled in +long clothes, and helped make a man of, if ever woman did. He was +walking under the trees beside a lady, talking to her, not indifferently. +The gentleman was her bridegroom and her babe. "I know his back," said +Mrs. Berry, as if she had branded a mark on it in infancy. But the lady +was not her bride. Mrs. Berry diverged from the path, and got before +them on the left flank; she stared, retreated, and came round upon the +right. There was that in the lady's face which Mrs. Berry did not like. +Her innermost question was, why he was not walking with his own wife? +She stopped in front of them. They broke, and passed about her. The +lady made a laughing remark to him, whereat he turned to look, and Mrs. +Berry bobbed. She had to bob a second time, and then he remembered the +worthy creature, and hailed her Penelope, shaking her hand so that he put +her in countenance again. Mrs. Berry was extremely agitated. He +dismissed her, promising to call upon her in the evening. She heard the +lady slip out something from a side of her lip, and they both laughed as +she toddled off to a sheltering tree to wipe a corner of each eye. "I +don't like the looks of that woman," she said, and repeated it +resolutely. + +"Why doesn't he walk arm-in-arm with her?" was her neat inquiry. +"Where's his wife?" succeeded it. After many interrogations of the sort, +she arrived at naming the lady a bold-faced thing; adding subsequently, +brazen. The lady had apparently shown Mrs. Berry that she wished to get +rid of her, and had checked the outpouring of her emotions on the breast +of her babe. "I know a lady when I see one," said Mrs. Berry. "I +haven't lived with 'em for nothing; and if she's a lady bred and born, I +wasn't married in the church alive." + +Then, if not a lady, what was she? Mrs. Berry desired to know: "She's +imitation lady, I'm sure she is!" Berry vowed. "I say she don't look +proper." + +Establishing the lady to be a spurious article, however, what was one to +think of a married man in company with such? "Oh no! it ain't that!" +Mrs. Berry returned immediately on the charitable tack. "Belike it's +some one of his acquaintance 've married her for her looks, and he've +just met her.... Why it'd be as bad as my Berry!" the relinquished +spouse of Berry ejaculated, in horror at the idea of a second man being +so monstrous in wickedness. "Just coupled, too!" Mrs. Berry groaned on +the suspicious side of the debate. "And such a sweet young thing for his +wife! But no, I'll never believe it. Not if he tell me so himself! And +men don't do that," she whimpered. + +Women are swift at coming to conclusions in these matters; soft women +exceedingly swift: and soft women who have been betrayed are rapid beyond +measure. Mrs. Berry had not cogitated long ere she pronounced distinctly +and without a shadow of dubiosity: "My opinion is--married or not +married, and wheresomever he pick her up--she's nothin' more nor less +than a Bella Donna!" as which poisonous plant she forthwith registered +the lady in the botanical note-book of her brain. It would have +astonished Mrs. Mount to have heard her person so accurately hit off at a +glance. + +In the evening Richard made good his promise, accompanied by Ripton. +Mrs. Berry opened the door to them. She could not wait to get him into +the parlour. "You're my own blessed babe; and I'm as good as your +mother, though I didn't suck ye, bein' a maid!" she cried, falling into +his arms, while Richard did his best to support the unexpected burden. +Then reproaching him tenderly for his guile--at mention of which Ripton +chuckled, deeming it his own most honourable portion of the plot--Mrs. +Berry led them into the parlour, and revealed to Richard who she was, and +how she had tossed him, and hugged him, and kissed him all over, when he +was only that big--showing him her stumpy fat arm. "I kissed ye from +head to tail, I did," said Mrs. Berry, "and you needn't be ashamed of it. +It's be hoped you'll never have nothin' worse come t'ye, my dear!" + +Richard assured her he was not a bit ashamed, but warned her that she +must not do it now, Mrs. Berry admitting it was out of the question now, +and now that he had a wife, moreover. The young men laughed, and Ripton +laughing over-loudly drew on himself Mrs. Berry's attention: "But that +Mr. Thompson there--however he can look me in the face after his +inn'cence! helping blindfold an old woman! though I ain't sorry for what +I did--that I'm free for to say, and its' over, and blessed be all! +Amen! So now where is she and how is she, Mr. Richard, my dear--it's +only cuttin' off the 's' and you are as you was.--Why didn't ye bring her +with ye to see her old Berry?" + +Richard hurriedly explained that Lucy was still in the Isle of Wight. + +"Oh! and you've left her for a day or two?" said Mrs. Berry. + +"Good God! I wish it had been a day or two," cried Richard. + +"Ah! and how long have it been?" asked Mrs. Berry, her heart beginning to +beat at his manner of speaking. + +"Don't talk about it," said Richard. + +"Oh! you never been dudgeonin' already? Oh! you haven't been peckin' at +one another yet?" Mrs. Berry exclaimed. + +Ripton interposed to tell her such fears were unfounded. + +"Then how long ha' you been divided?" + +In a guilty voice Ripton stammered "since September." + +"September!" breathed Mrs. Berry, counting on her fingers, "September, +October, Nov--two months and more! nigh three! A young married husband +away from the wife of his bosom nigh three months! Oh my! Oh my! what +do that mean?" + +"My father sent for me--I'm waiting to see him," said Richard. A few +more words helped Mrs. Berry to comprehend the condition of affairs. +Then Mrs. Berry spread her lap, flattened out her hands, fixed her eyes, +and spoke. + +"My dear young gentleman!--I'd like to call ye my darlin' babe! I'm +going to speak as a mother to ye, whether ye likes it or no; and what old +Berry says, you won't mind, for she's had ye when there was no +conventionals about ye, and she has the feelin's of a mother to you, +though humble her state. If there's one that know matrimony it's me, my +dear, though Berry did give me no more but nine months of it and I've +known the worst of matrimony, which, if you wants to be woeful wise, +there it is for ye. For what have been my gain? That man gave me +nothin' but his name; and Bessy Andrews was as good as Bessy Berry, +though both is 'Bs,' and says he, you was 'A,' and now you's 'B,' so +you're my A B, he says, write yourself down that, he says, the bad man, +with his jokes!--Berry went to service." Mrs. Berry's softness came upon +her. "So I tell ye, Berry went to service. He left the wife of his +bosom forlorn and he went to service; because he were allays an ambitious +man, and wasn't, so to speak, happy out of his uniform--which was his +livery--not even in my arms: and he let me know it. He got among them +kitchen sluts, which was my mournin' ready made, and worse than a widow's +cap to me, which is no shame to wear, and some say becoming. There's no +man as ever lived known better than my Berry how to show his legs to +advantage, and gals look at 'em. I don't wonder now that Berry was +prostrated. His temptations was strong, and his flesh was weak. Then +what I say is, that for a young married man--be he whomsoever he may be-- +to be separated from the wife of his bosom--a young sweet thing, and he +an innocent young gentleman!--so to sunder, in their state, and be kep' +from each other, I say it's as bad as bad can be! For what is matrimony, +my dears? We're told it's a holy Ordnance. And why are ye so +comfortable in matrimony? For that ye are not a sinnin'! And they that +severs ye they tempts ye to stray: and you learn too late the meanin' o' +them blessin's of the priest--as it was ordained. Separate--what comes? +Fust it's like the circulation of your blood a-stoppin'--all goes wrong. +Then there's misunderstandings--ye've both lost the key. Then, behold +ye, there's birds o' prey hoverin' over each on ye, and it's which'll be +snapped up fust. Then--Oh, dear! Oh, dear! it be like the devil come +into the world again." Mrs. Berry struck her hands and moaned. "A day +I'll give ye: I'll go so far as a week: but there's the outside. Three +months dwellin' apart! That's not matrimony, it's divorcin'! what can it +be to her but widowhood? widowhood with no cap to show for it! And what +can it be to you, my dear? Think! you been a bachelor three months! and +a bachelor man," Mrs. Berry shook her head most dolefully, "he ain't +widow woman. I don't go to compare you to Berry, my dear young +gentleman. Some men's hearts is vagabonds born--they must go astray-- +it's their natur' to. But all men are men, and I know the foundation of +'em, by reason of my woe." + +Mrs. Berry paused. Richard was humorously respectful to the sermon. The +truth in the good creature's address was not to be disputed, or despised, +notwithstanding the inclination to laugh provoked by her quaint way of +putting it. Ripton nodded encouragingly at every sentence, for he saw +her drift, and wished to second it. + +Seeking for an illustration of her meaning, Mrs. Berry solemnly +continued: "We all know what checked prespiration is." But neither of +the young gentlemen could resist this. Out they burst in a roar of +laughter. + +"Laugh away," said Mrs. Berry. "I don't mind ye. I say again, we all do +know what checked prespiration is. It fly to the lungs, it gives ye +mortal inflammation, and it carries ye off. Then I say checked matrimony +is as bad. It fly to the heart, and it carries off the virtue that's in +ye, and you might as well be dead! Them that is joined it's their +salvation not to separate! It don't so much matter before it. That Mr. +Thompson there--if he go astray, it ain't from the blessed fold. He hurt +himself alone--not double, and belike treble, for who can say now what +may be? There's time for it. I'm for holding back young people so that +they knows their minds, howsomever they rattles about their hearts. I +ain't a speeder of matrimony, and good's my reason! but where it's been +done--where they're lawfully joined, and their bodies made one, I do say +this, that to put division between 'em then, it's to make wanderin' +comets of 'em--creatures without a objeck, and no soul can say what +they's good for but to rush about!" + +Mrs. Berry here took a heavy breath, as one who has said her utmost for +the time being. + +"My dear old girl," Richard went up to her and, applauding her on the +shoulder, "you're a very wise old woman. But you mustn't speak to me as +if I wanted to stop here. I'm compelled to. I do it for her good +chiefly." + +"It's your father that's doin' it, my dear?" + +"Well, I'm waiting his pleasure." + +"A pretty pleasure! puttin' a snake in the nest of young turtle-doves! +And why don't she come up to you?" + +"Well, that you must ask her. The fact is, she's a little timid girl-- +she wants me to see him first, and when I've made all right, then she'll +come." + +"A little timid girl!" cried Mrs. Berry. "Oh, lor', how she must ha' +deceived ye to make ye think that! Look at that ring," she held out her +finger, "he's a stranger: he's not my lawful! You know what ye did to +me, my dear. Could I get my own wedding-ring back from her? "No!" says +she, firm as a rock, 'he said, with this ring I thee wed'--I think I +see her now, with her pretty eyes and lovesome locks--a darlin'!--And +that ring she'd keep to, come life, came death. And she must ha' been a +rock for me to give in to her in that. For what's the consequence? Here +am I," Mrs. Berry smoothed down the back of her hand mournfully, "here am +I in a strange ring, that's like a strange man holdin' of me, and me a- +wearin' of it just to seem decent, and feelin' all over no better than a +b--a big--that nasty came I can't abide!--I tell you, my dear, she ain't +soft, no!--except to the man of her heart; and the best of women's too +soft there--mores our sorrow!" + +"Well, well!" said Richard, who thought he knew. + +"I agree with you, Mrs. Berry," Ripton struck in, "Mrs. Richard would do +anything in the world her husband asked her, I'm quite sure." + +"Bless you for your good opinion, Mr. Thompson! Why, see her! she ain't +frail on her feet; she looks ye straight in the eyes; she ain't one of +your hang-down misses. Look how she behaved at the ceremony!" + +"Ah!" sighed Ripton. + +"And if you'd ha' seen her when she spoke to me about my ring! Depend +upon it, my dear Mr. Richard, if she blinded you about the nerve she've +got, it was somethin' she thought she ought to do for your sake, and I +wish I'd been by to counsel her, poor blessed babe!--And how much longer, +now, can ye stay divided from that darlin'?" + +Richard paced up and down. + +"A father's will," urged Mrs. Berry, "that's a son's law; but he mustn't +go again' the laws of his nature to do it." + +"Just be quiet at present--talk of other things, there's a good woman," +said Richard. + +Mrs. Berry meekly folded her arms. + +"How strange, now, our meetin' like this! meetin' at all, too!" she +remarked contemplatively. "It's them advertisements! They brings people +together from the ends of the earth, for good or for bad. I often say, +there's more lucky accidents, or unlucky ones, since advertisements was +the rule, than ever there was before. They make a number of romances, +depend upon it! Do you walk much in the Gardens, my dear?" + +"Now and then," said Richard. + +"Very pleasant it is there with the fine folks and flowers and titled +people," continued Mrs. Berry. "That was a handsome woman you was a- +walkin' beside, this mornin'." + +Very," said Richard. + +"She was a handsome woman! or I should say, is, for her day ain't past, +and she know it. I thought at first--by her back--it might ha' been your +aunt, Mrs. Forey; for she do step out well and hold up her shoulders: +straight as a dart she be! But when I come to see her face--Oh, dear me! +says I, this ain't one of the family. They none of 'em got such bold +faces--nor no lady as I know have. But she's a fine woman--that nobody +can gainsay." + +Mrs. Berry talked further of the fine woman. It was a liberty she took +to speak in this disrespectful tone of her, and Mrs. Berry was quite +aware that she was laying herself open to rebuke. She had her end in +view. No rebuke was uttered, and during her talk she observed +intercourse passing between the eyes of the young men. + +"Look here, Penelope," Richard stopped her at last. "Will it make you +comfortable if I tell you I'll obey the laws of my nature and go down at +the end of the week?" + +"I'll thank the Lord of heaven if you do!" she exclaimed. + +"Very well, then--be happy--I will. Now listen. I want you to keep your +rooms for me--those she had. I expect, in a day or two, to bring a lady +here"-- + +"A lady?" faltered Mrs. Berry. + +"Yes. A lady." + +"May I make so bold as to ask what lady?" + +"You may not. Not now. Of course you will know." + +Mrs. Berry's short neck made the best imitation it could of an offended +swan's action. She was very angry. She said she did not like so many +ladies, which natural objection Richard met by saying that there was only +one lady. + +"And Mrs. Berry," he added, dropping his voice. "You will treat her as +you did my dear girl, for she will require not only shelter but kindness. +I would rather leave her with you than with any one. She has been very +unfortunate." + +His serious air and habitual tone of command fascinated the softness of +Berry, and it was not until he had gone that she spoke out. +"Unfort'nate! He's going to bring me an unfort'nate female! Oh! not +from my babe can I bear that! Never will I have her here! I see it. +It's that bold-faced woman he's got mixed up in, and she've been and made +the young man think he'll go for to reform her. It's one o' their arts-- +that is; and he's too innocent a young man to mean anythin' else. But I +ain't a house of Magdalens no! and sooner than have her here I'd have the +roof fall over me, I would." + +She sat down to eat her supper on the sublime resolve. + +In love, Mrs. Berry's charity was all on the side of the law, and this is +the case with many of her sisters. The Pilgrim sneers at them for it, +and would have us credit that it is their admirable instinct which, at +the expense of every virtue save one, preserves the artificial barrier +simply to impose upon us. Men, I presume, are hardly fair judges, and +should stand aside and mark. + +Early next day Mrs. Berry bundled off to Richard's hotel to let him know +her determination. She did not find him there. Returning homeward +through the park, she beheld him on horseback riding by the side of the +identical lady. + +The sight of this public exposure shocked her more than the secret walk +under the trees... "You don't look near your reform yet," Mrs. Berry +apostrophized her. "You don't look to me one that'd come the Fair +Penitent till you've left off bein' fair--if then you do, which some of +ye don't. Laugh away and show yet airs! Spite o' your hat and feather, +and your ridin' habit, you're a Belle Donna." Setting her down again +absolutely for such, whatever it might signify, Mrs. Berry had a virtuous +glow. + +In the evening she heard the noise of wheels stopping at the door. +"Never!" she rose from her chair to exclaim. "He ain't rided her out in +the mornin', and been and made a Magdalen of her afore dark?" + +A lady veiled was brought into the house by Richard. Mrs. Berry feebly +tried to bar his progress in the passage. He pushed past her, and +conducted the lady into the parlour without speaking. Mrs. Berry did not +follow. She heard him murmur a few sentences within. Then he came out. +All her crest stood up, as she whispered vigorously, "Mr. Richard! if +that woman stay here, I go forth. My house ain't a penitentiary for +unfort'nate females, sir"-- + +He frowned at her curiously; but as she was on the point of renewing her +indignant protest, he clapped his hand across her mouth, and spoke words +in her ear that had awful import to her. She trembled, breathing low: +"My God, forgive, me! + +"Richard?" And her virtue was humbled. "Lady Feverel is it? Your +mother, Mr. Richard?" And her virtue was humbled. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII + +One may suppose that a prematurely aged, oily little man; a poet in bad +circumstances; a decrepit butterfly chained to a disappointed inkstand, +will not put out strenuous energies to retain his ancient paramour when a +robust young man comes imperatively to demand his mother of him in her +person. The colloquy was short between Diaper Sandoe and Richard. The +question was referred to the poor spiritless lady, who, seeing that her +son made no question of it, cast herself on his hands. Small loss to her +was Diaper; but he was the loss of habit, and that is something to a +woman who has lived. The blood of her son had been running so long alien +from her that the sense of her motherhood smote he now with strangeness, +and Richard's stern gentleness seemed like dreadful justice come upon +her. Her heart had almost forgotten its maternal functions. She called +him Sir, till he bade her remember he was her son. Her voice sounded to +him like that of a broken-throated lamb, so painful and weak it was, with +the plaintive stop in the utterance. When he kissed her, her skin was +cold. Her thin hand fell out of his when his grasp related. "Can sin +hunt one like this?" he asked, bitterly reproaching himself for the shame +she had caused him to endure, and a deep compassion filled his breast. + +Poetic justice had been dealt to Diaper the poet. He thought of all he +had sacrificed for this woman--the comfortable quarters, the friend, the +happy flights. He could not but accuse her of unfaithfulness in leaving +him in his old age. Habit had legalized his union with her. He wrote as +pathetically of the break of habit as men feel at the death of love, and +when we are old and have no fair hope tossing golden locks before us, a +wound to this our second nature is quite as sad. I know not even if it +be not actually sadder. + +Day by day Richard visited his mother. Lady Blandish and Ripton alone +were in the secret. Adrian let him do as he pleased. He thought proper +to tell him that the public recognition he accorded to a particular lady +was, in the present state of the world, scarcely prudent. + +"'Tis a proof to me of your moral rectitude, my son, but the world will +not think so. No one character is sufficient to cover two--in a +Protestant country especially. The divinity that doth hedge a Bishop +would have no chance, in contact with your Madam Danae. Drop the woman, +my son. Or permit me to speak what you would have her hear." + +Richard listened to him with disgust. "Well, you've had my doctorial +warning," said Adrian; and plunged back into his book. + +When Lady Feverel had revived to take part in the consultations Mrs. +Berry perpetually opened on the subject of Richard's matrimonial duty, +another chain was cast about him. "Do not, oh, do not offend your +father!" was her one repeated supplication. Sir Austin had grown to be a +vindictive phantom in her mind. She never wept but when she said this. + +So Mrs. Berry, to whom Richard had once made mention of Lady Blandish as +the only friend he had among women, bundled off in her black-satin dress +to obtain an interview with her, and an ally. After coming to an +understanding on the matter of the visit, and reiterating many of her +views concerning young married people, Mrs. Berry said: "My lady, if I +may speak so bold, I'd say the sin that's bein' done is the sin o' the +lookers-on. And when everybody appear frightened by that young +gentleman's father, I'll say--hopin' your pardon--they no cause be +frighted at all. For though it's nigh twenty year since I knew him, and +I knew him then just sixteen months--no more--I'll say his heart's as +soft as a woman's, which I've cause for to know. And that's it. That's +where everybody's deceived by him, and I was. It's because he keeps his +face, and makes ye think you're dealin' with a man of iron, and all the +while there's a woman underneath. And a man that's like a woman he's the +puzzle o' life! We can see through ourselves, my lady, and we can see +through men, but one o' that sort--he's like somethin' out of nature. +Then I say--hopin' be excused--what's to do is for to treat him like a +woman, and not for to let him have his own way--which he don't know +himself, and is why nobody else do. Let that sweet young couple come +together, and be wholesome in spite of him, I say; and then give him time +to come round, just like a woman; and round he'll come, and give 'em his +blessin', and we shall know we've made him comfortable. He's angry +because matrimony have come between him and his son, and he, woman-like, +he's wantin' to treat what is as if it isn't. But matrimony's a holier +than him. It began long long before him, and it's be hoped will endoor +longs the time after, if the world's not coming to rack--wishin' him no +harm." + +Now Mrs. Berry only put Lady Blandish's thoughts in bad English. The +lady took upon herself seriously to advise Richard to send for his wife. +He wrote, bidding her come. Lucy, however, had wits, and inexperienced +wits are as a little knowledge. In pursuance of her sage plan to make +the family feel her worth, and to conquer the members of it one by one, +she had got up a correspondence with Adrian, whom it tickled. Adrian +constantly assured her all was going well: time would heal the wound if +both the offenders had the fortitude to be patient: he fancied he saw +signs of the baronet's relenting: they must do nothing to arrest those +favourable symptoms. Indeed the wise youth was languidly seeking to +produce them. He wrote, and felt, as Lucy's benefactor. So Lucy replied +to her husband a cheerful rigmarole he could make nothing of, save that +she was happy in hope, and still had fears. Then Mrs. Berry trained her +fist to indite a letter to her bride. Her bride answered it by saying +she trusted to time. "You poor marter" Mrs. Berry wrote back, "I know +what your sufferin's be. They is the only kind a wife should never hide +from her husband. He thinks all sorts of things if she can abide being +away. And you trusting to time, why it's like trusting not to catch cold +out of your natural clothes." There was no shaking Lucy's firmness. + +Richard gave it up. He began to think that the life lying behind him was +the life of a fool. What had he done in it? He had burnt a rick and got +married! He associated the two acts of his existence. Where was the +hero he was to have carved out of Tom Bakewell!--a wretch he had taught +to lie and chicane: and for what? Great heavens! how ignoble did a flash +from the light of his aspirations make his marriage appear! The young +man sought amusement. He allowed his aunt to drag him into society, and +sick of that he made late evening calls on Mrs. Mount, oblivious of the +purpose he had in visiting her at all. Her man-like conversation, which +he took for honesty, was a refreshing change on fair lips. + +"Call me Bella: I'll call you Dick," said she. And it came to be Bella +and Dick between them. No mention of Bella occurred in Richard's letters +to Lucy. + +Mrs. Mount spoke quite openly of herself. "I pretend to be no better +than I am," she said, "and I know I'm no worse than many a woman who +holds her head high." To back this she told him stories of blooming +dames of good repute, and poured a little social sewerage into his ears. + +Also she understood him. "What you want, my dear Dick, is something to +do. You went and got married like a--hum!--friends must be respectful. +Go into the Army. Try the turf. I can put you up to a trick or two-- +friends should make themselves useful." + +She told him what she liked in him. "You're the only man I was ever +alone with who don't talk to me of love and make me feel sick. I hate +men who can't speak to a woman sensibly.--Just wait a minute." She left +him and presently returned with, "Ah, Dick! old fellow! how are you?"-- +arrayed like a cavalier, one arm stuck in her side, her hat jauntily +cocked, and a pretty oath on her lips to give reality to the costume. +"What do you think of me? Wasn't it a shame to make a woman of me when I +was born to be a man?" + +"I don't know that," said Richard, for the contrast in her attire to +those shooting eyes and lips, aired her sex bewitchingly. + +"What! you think I don't do it well?" + +"Charming! but I can't forget..." + +"Now that is too bad!" she pouted. + +Then she proposed that they should go out into the midnight streets arm- +in-arm, and out they went and had great fits of laughter at her +impertinent manner of using her eyeglass, and outrageous affectation of +the supreme dandy. + +"They take up men, Dick, for going about in women's clothes, and vice +versaw, I suppose. You'll bail me, old fellaa, if I have to make my bow +to the beak, won't you? Say it's becas I'm an honest woman and don't +care to hide the--a--unmentionables when I wear them--as the t'others +do," sprinkled with the dandy's famous invocations. + +He began to conceive romance in that sort of fun. + +"You're a wopper, my brave Dick! won't let any peeler take me? by Jove!" + +And he with many assurances guaranteed to stand by her, while she bent +her thin fingers trying the muscle of his arm; and reposed upon it more. +There was delicacy in her dandyism. She was a graceful cavalier. + +"Sir Julius," as they named the dandy's attire, was frequently called for +on his evening visits to Mrs. Mount. When he beheld Sir Julius he +thought of the lady, and "vice versaw," as Sir Julius was fond of +exclaiming. + +Was ever hero in this fashion wooed? + +The woman now and then would peep through Sir Julius. Or she would sit, +and talk, and altogether forget she was impersonating that worthy fop. + +She never uttered an idea or a reflection, but Richard thought her the +cleverest woman he had ever met. + +All kinds of problematic notions beset him. She was cold as ice, she +hated talk about love, and she was branded by the world. + +A rumour spread that reached Mrs. Doria's ears. She rushed to Adrian +first. The wise youth believed there was nothing in it. She sailed down +upon Richard. "Is this true? that you have been seen going publicly +about with an infamous woman, Richard? Tell me! pray, relieve me!" + +Richard knew of no person answering to his aunt's description in whose +company he could have been seen. + +"Tell me, I say! Don't quibble. Do you know any woman of bad +character?" + +The acquaintance of a lady very much misjudged and ill-used by the world, +Richard admitted to. + +Urgent grave advice Mrs. Doria tendered her nephew, both from the moral +and the worldly point of view, mentally ejaculating all the while: "That +ridiculous System! That disgraceful marriage!" Sir Austin in his +mountain solitude was furnished with serious stuff to brood over. + +The rumour came to Lady Blandish. She likewise lectured Richard, and +with her he condescended to argue. But he found himself obliged to +instance something he had quite neglected. "Instead of her doing me +harm, it's I that will do her good." + +Lady Blandish shook her head and held up her finger. "This person must +be very clever to have given you that delusion, dear." + +"She is clever. And the world treats her shamefully." + +"She complains of her position to you?" + +"Not a word. But I will stand by her. She has no friend but me." + +"My poor boy! has she made you think that?" + +"How unjust you all are!" cried Richard. + +"How mad and wicked is the man who can let him be tempted so!" thought +Lady Blandish. + +He would pronounce no promise not to visit her, not to address her +publicly. The world that condemned her and cast her out was no better-- +worse for its miserable hypocrisy. He knew the world now, the young man +said. + +"My child! the world may be very bad. I am not going to defend it. But +you have some one else to think of. Have you forgotten you have a wife, +Richard?" + +"Ay! you all speak of her now. There's my aunt: 'Remember you have a +wife!' "Do you think I love any one but Lucy? poor little thing! +Because I am married am I to give up the society of women?" + +"Of women!" + +"Isn't she a woman?" + +"Too much so!" sighed the defender of her sex. + +Adrian became more emphatic in his warnings. Richard laughed at him. +The wise youth sneered at Mrs. Mount. The hero then favoured him with a +warning equal to his own in emphasis, and surpassing it in sincerity. + +"We won't quarrel, my dear boy," said Adrian. "I'm a man of peace. +Besides, we are not fairly proportioned for a combat. Ride your steed to +virtue's goal! All I say is, that I think he'll upset you, and it's +better to go at a slow pace and in companionship with the children of the +sun. You have a very nice little woman for a wife--well, good-bye!" + +To have his wife and the world thrown at his face, was unendurable to +Richard; he associated them somewhat after the manner of the rick and the +marriage. Charming Sir Julius, always gay, always honest, dispersed his +black moods. + +"Why, you're taller," Richard made the discovery. + +"Of course I am. Don't you remember you said I was such a little thing +when I came out of my woman's shell?" + +"And how have you done it?" + +"Grown to please you." + +"Now, if you can do that, you can do anything." + +"And so I would do anything." + +"You would?" + +"Honour!" + +"Then"...his project recurred to him. But the incongruity of speaking +seriously to Sir Julius struck him dumb. + +"Then what?" asked she. + +"Then you're a gallant fellow." + +"That all?" + +"Isn't it enough?" + +"Not quite. You were going to say something. I saw it in your eyes." + +"You saw that I admired you." + +"Yes, but a man mustn't admire a man." + +"I suppose I had an idea you were a woman." + +"What! when I had the heels of my boots raised half an inch," Sir Julius +turned one heel, and volleyed out silver laughter. + +"I don't come much above your shoulder even now," she said, and proceeded +to measure her height beside him with arch up-glances. + +"You must grow more." + +"'Fraid I can't, Dick! Bootmakers can't do it." + +"I'll show you how," and he lifted Sir Julius lightly, and bore the fair +gentleman to the looking-glass, holding him there exactly on a level with +his head. "Will that do?" + +"Yes! Oh but I can't stay here." + +"Why can't you?" + +"Why can't I?" + +He should have known then--it was thundered at a closed door in him, that +he played with fire. But the door being closed, he thought himself +internally secure. + +Their eyes met. He put her down instantly. + +Sir Julius, charming as he was, lost his vogue. Seeing that, the wily +woman resumed her shell. The memory, of Sir Julius breathing about her +still, doubled the feminine attraction. + +"I ought to have been an actress," she said. + +Richard told her he found all natural women had a similar wish. + +"Yes! Ah! then! if I had been!" sighed Mrs. Mount, gazing on the pattern +of the carpet. + +He took her hand, and pressed it. + +"You are not happy as you are?" + +"No." + +"May I speak to you?" + +"Yes." + +Her nearest eye, setting a dimple of her cheek in motion, slid to the +corner toward her ear, as she sat with her head sideways to him, +listening. When he had gone, she said to herself: "Old hypocrites talk +in that way; but I never heard of a young man doing it, and not making +love at the same time." + +Their next meeting displayed her quieter: subdued as one who had been set +thinking. He lauded her fair looks. + +"Don't make me thrice ashamed," she petitioned. + +But it was not only that mood with her. Dauntless defiance, that +splendidly befitted her gallant outline and gave a wildness to her bright +bold eyes, when she would call out: "Happy? who dares say I'm not happy? +D'you think if the world whips me I'll wince? D'you think I care for +what they say or do? Let them kill me! they shall never get one cry out +of me!" and flashing on the young man as if he were the congregated +enemy, add: "There! now you know me!"--that was a mood that well became +her, and helped the work. She ought to have been an actress. + +"This must not go on," said Lady Blandish and Mrs. Doria in unison. A +common object brought them together. They confined their talk to it, and +did not disagree. Mrs. Doria engaged to go down to the baronet. Both +ladies knew it was a dangerous, likely to turn out a disastrous, +expedition. They agreed to it because it was something to do, and doing +anything is better than doing nothing. "Do it," said the wise youth, +when they made him a third, "do it, if you want him to be a hermit for +life. You will bring back nothing but his dead body, ladies--a Hellenic, +rather than a Roman, triumph. He will listen to you--he will accompany +you to the station--he will hand you into the carriage--and when you +point to his seat he will bow profoundly, and retire into his congenial +mists." + +Adrian spoke their thoughts. They fretted; they relapsed. + +"Speak to him, you, Adrian," said Mrs. Doria. "Speak to the boy +solemnly. It would be almost better he should go back to that little +thing he has married." + +"Almost?" Lady Blandish opened her eyes. "I have been advising it for +the last month and more." + +"A choice of evils," said Mrs. Doria's sour-sweet face and shake of the +head. + +Each lady saw a point of dissension, and mutually agreed, with heroic +effort, to avoid it by shutting their mouths. What was more, they +preserved the peace in spite of Adrian's artifices. + +"Well, I'll talk to him again," he said. "I'll try to get the Engine on +the conventional line." + +"Command him!" exclaimed Mrs. Doria. + +"Gentle means are, I think, the only means with Richard," said Lady +Blandish. + +Throwing banter aside, as much as he could, Adrian spoke to Richard. +"You want to reform this woman. Her manner is open--fair and free--the +traditional characteristic. We won't stop to canvass how that particular +honesty of deportment that wins your approbation has been gained. In her +college it is not uncommon. Girls, you know, are not like boys. At a +certain age they can't be quite natural. It's a bad sign if they don't +blush, and fib, and affect this and that. It wears off when they're +women. But a woman who speaks like a man, and has all those excellent +virtues you admire--where has she learned the trick? She tells you. You +don't surely approve of the school? Well, what is there in it, then? +Reform her, of course. The task is worthy of your energies. But, if you +are appointed to do it, don't do it publicly, and don't attempt it just +now. May I ask you whether your wife participates in this undertaking?" + +Richard walked away from the interrogation. The wise youth, who hated +long unrelieved speeches and had healed his conscience, said no more. + +Dear tender Lucy! Poor darling! Richard's eyes moistened. Her letters +seemed sadder latterly. Yet she never called to him to come, or he would +have gone. His heart leapt up to her. He announced to Adrian that he +should wait no longer for his father. Adrian placidly nodded. + +The enchantress observed that her knight had a clouded brow and an absent +voice. + +"Richard--I can't call you Dick now, I really don't know why"--she said, +"I want to beg a favour of you." + +"Name it. I can still call you Bella, I suppose?" + +"If you care to. What I want to say is this: when you meet me out--to +cut it short--please not to recognize me." + +"And why?" + +"Do you ask to be told that?" + +"Certainly I do." + +"Then look: I won't compromise you." + +"I see no harm, Bella." + +"No," she caressed his hand, "and there is none. I know that. But," +modest eyelids were drooped, "other people do," struggling eyes were +raised. + +"What do we care for other people?" + +"Nothing. I don't. Not that!" snapping her finger, "I care for you, +though." A prolonged look followed the declaration. + +"You're foolish, Bella." + +"Not quite so giddy--that's all." + +He did not combat it with his usual impetuosity. Adrian's abrupt inquiry +had sunk in his mind, as the wise youth intended it should. He had +instinctively refrained from speaking to Lucy of this lady. But what a +noble creature the woman was! + +So they met in the park; Mrs. Mount whipped past him; and secresy added a +new sense to their intimacy. + +Adrian was gratified at the result produced by his eloquence. + +Though this lady never expressed an idea, Richard was not mistaken in her +cleverness. She could make evenings pass gaily, and one was not the +fellow to the other. She could make you forget she was a woman, and then +bring the fact startlingly home to you. She could read men with one +quiver of her half-closed eye-lashes. She could catch the coming mood in +a man, and fit herself to it. What does a woman want with ideas, who can +do thus much? Keenness of perception, conformity, delicacy of handling, +these be all the qualities necessary to parasites. + +Love would have scared the youth: she banished it from her tongue. It +may also have been true that it sickened her. She played on his higher +nature. She understood spontaneously what would be most strange and +taking to him in a woman. Various as the Serpent of old Nile, she acted +fallen beauty, humorous indifference, reckless daring, arrogance in ruin. +And acting thus, what think you?--She did it so well because she was +growing half in earnest. + +"Richard! I am not what I was since I knew you. You will not give me up +quite?" + +"Never, Bella." + +"I am not so bad as I'm painted!" + +"You are only unfortunate." + +"Now that I know you I think so, and yet I am happier." + +She told him her history when this soft horizon of repentance seemed to +throw heaven's twilight across it. A woman's history, you know: certain +chapters expunged. It was dark enough to Richard. + +"Did you love the man?" he asked. "You say you love no one now." + +"Did I love him? He was a nobleman and I a tradesman's daughter. No. I +did not love him. I have lived to learn it. And now I should hate him, +if I did not despise him." + +"Can you be deceived in love?" said Richard, more to himself than to her. + +"Yes. When we're young we can be very easily deceived. If there is such +a thing as love, we discover it after we have tossed about and roughed +it. Then we find the man, or the woman, that suits us:--and then it's +too late! we can't have him." + +"Singular!" murmured Richard, "she says just what my father said." + +He spoke aloud: "I could forgive you if you had loved him." + +"Don't be harsh, grave judge! How is a girl to distinguish?" + +"You had some affection for him? He was the first?" + +She chose to admit that. "Yes. And the first who talks of love to a +girl must be a fool if he doesn't blind her." + +"That makes what is called first love nonsense." + +"Isn't it?" + +He repelled the insinuation. "Because I know it is not, Bella." + +Nevertheless she had opened a wider view of the world to him, and a +colder. He thought poorly of girls. A woman a sensible, brave, +beautiful woman seemed, on comparison, infinitely nobler than those weak +creatures. + +She was best in her character of lovely rebel accusing foul injustice. +"What am I to do? You tell me to be different. How can I? What am I to +do? Will virtuous people let me earn my bread? I could not get a +housemaid's place! They wouldn't have me--I see their noses smelling! +Yes I can go to the hospital and sing behind a screen! Do you expect me +to bury myself alive? Why, man, I have blood: I can't become a stone. +You say I am honest, and I will be. Then let me till you that I have +been used to luxuries, and I can't do without them. I might have married +men--lots would have had me. But who marries one like me but a fool? and +I could not marry a fool. The man I marry I must respect. He could not +respect me--I should know him to be a fools and I should be worse off +than I am now. As I am now, they may look as pious as they like--I laugh +at them!" + +And so forth: direr things. Imputations upon wives: horrible exultation +at the universal peccancy of husbands. This lovely outcast almost made +him think she had the right on her side, so keenly her Parthian arrows +pierced the holy centres of society, and exposed its rottenness. + +Mrs. Mount's house was discreetly conducted: nothing ever occurred to +shock him there. The young man would ask himself where the difference +was between her and the Women of society? How base, too, was the army of +banded hypocrites! He was ready to declare war against them on her +behalf. His casus beli, accurately worded, would have read curiously. +Because the world refused to lure the lady to virtue with the offer of a +housemaid's place, our knight threw down his challenge. But the lady had +scornfully rebutted this prospect of a return to chastity. Then the form +of the challenge must be: Because the world declined to support the lady +in luxury for nothing! But what did that mean? In other words: she was +to receive the devil's wages without rendering him her services. Such an +arrangement appears hardly fair on the world or on the devil. Heroes +will have to conquer both before they will get them to subscribe to it. + +Heroes, however, are not in the habit of wording their declarations of +war at all. Lance in rest they challenge and they charge. Like women +they trust to instinct, and graft on it the muscle of men. Wide fly the +leisurely-remonstrating hosts: institutions are scattered, they know not +wherefore, heads are broken that have not the balm of a reason why. 'Tis +instinct strikes! Surely there is something divine in instinct. + +Still, war declared, where were these hosts? The hero could not charge +down on the ladies and gentlemen in a ballroom, and spoil the quadrille. +He had sufficient reticence to avoid sounding his challenge in the Law +Courts; nor could he well go into the Houses of Parliament with a +trumpet, though to come to a tussle with the nation's direct +representatives did seem the likelier method. It was likewise out of the +question that he should enter every house and shop, and battle with its +master in the cause of Mrs. Mount. Where, then, was his enemy? +Everybody was his enemy, and everybody was nowhere! Shall he convoke +multitudes on Wimbledon Common? Blue Policemen, and a distant dread of +ridicule, bar all his projects. Alas for the hero in our day! + +Nothing teaches a strong arm its impotence so much as knocking at empty +air. + +"What can I do for this poor woman?" cried Richard, after fighting his +phantom enemy till he was worn out. + +"O Rip! old Rip!" he addressed his friend, "I'm distracted. I wish I was +dead! What good am I for? Miserable! selfish! What have I done but +make every soul I know wretched about me? I follow my own inclinations-- +I make people help me by lying as hard as they can--and I'm a liar. And +when I've got it I'm ashamed of myself. And now when I do see something +unselfish for me to do, I come upon grins--I don't know where to turn-- +how to act--and I laugh at myself like a devil!" + +It was only friend Ripton's ear that was required, so his words went for +little: but Ripton did say he thought there was small matter to be +ashamed of in winning and wearing the Beauty of Earth. Richard added his +customary comment of "Poor little thing!" + +He fought his duello with empty air till he was exhausted. A last letter +written to his father procured him no reply. Then, said he, I have tried +my utmost. I have tried to be dutiful--my father won't listen to me. +One thing I can do--I can go down to my dear girl, and make her happy, +and save her at least from some of the consequences of my rashness. + +"There's nothing better for me!" he groaned. His great ambition must be +covered by a house-top: he and the cat must warm themselves on the +domestic hearth! The hero was not aware that his heart moved him to +this. His heart was not now in open communion with his mind. + +Mrs. Mount heard that her friend was going--would go. She knew he was +going to his wife. Far from discouraging him, she said nobly: "Go--I +believe I have kept you. Let us have an evening together, and then go: +for good, if you like. If not, then to meet again another time. Forget +me. I shan't forget you. You're the best fellow I ever knew, Richard. +You are, on my honour! I swear I would not step in between you and your +wife to cause either of you a moment's unhappiness. When I can be +another woman I will, and I shall think of you then." + +Lady Blandish heard from Adrian that Richard was positively going to his +wife. The wise youth modestly veiled his own merit in bringing it about +by saying: "I couldn't see that poor little woman left alone down there +any longer." + +"Well! Yes!" said Mrs. Doria, to whom the modest speech was repeated, "I +suppose, poor boy, it's the best he can do now." + +Richard bade them adieu, and went to spend his last evening with Mrs. +Mount. + +The enchantress received him in state. + +"Do you know this dress? No? It's the dress I wore when I first met +you--not when I first saw you. I think I remarked you, sir, before you +deigned to cast an eye upon humble me. When we first met we drank +champagne together, and I intend to celebrate our parting in the same +liquor. Will you liquor with me, old boy?" + +She was gay. She revived Sir Julius occasionally. He, dispirited, left +the talking all to her. + +Mrs. Mount kept a footman. At a late hour the man of calves dressed the +table for supper. It was a point of honour for Richard to sit down to it +and try to eat. Drinking, thanks to the kindly mother nature, who loves +to see her children made fools of, is always an easier matter. The +footman was diligent; the champagne corks feebly recalled the file-firing +at Richmond. + +"We'll drink to what we might have been, Dick," said the enchantress. + +Oh, the glorious wreck she looked. + +His heart choked as he gulped the buzzing wine. + +"What! down, my boy?" she cried. "They shall never see me hoist signals +of distress. We must all die, and the secret of the thing is to die +game, by Jove! Did you ever hear of Laura Fern? a superb girl! +handsomer than your humble servant--if you'll believe it--a 'Miss' in the +bargain, and as a consequence, I suppose, a much greater rake. She was +in the hunting-field. Her horse threw her, and she fell plump on a +stake. It went into her left breast. All the fellows crowded round her, +and one young man, who was in love with her--he sits in the House of +Peers now--we used to call him `Duck' because he was such a dear--he +dropped from his horse to his knees: 'Laura! Laura! my darling! speak a +word to me!--the last!' She turned over all white and bloody! 'I--I +shan't be in at the death!' and gave up the ghost! Wasn't that dying +game? Here's to the example of Laura Fenn! Why, what's the matter? +See! it makes a man turn pale to hear how a woman can die. Fill the +glasses, John. Why, you're as bad!" + +"It's give me a turn, my lady," pleaded John, and the man's hand was +unsteady as he poured out the wine. + +"You ought not to listen. Go, and, drink some brandy." + +John footman went from the room. + +"My brave Dick! Richard! what a face you've got!" + +He showed a deep frown on a colourless face. + +"Can't you bear to hear of blood? You know, it was only one naughty +woman out of the world. The clergyman of the parish didn't refuse to +give her decent burial. We Christians! Hurrah!" + +She cheered, and laughed. A lurid splendour glanced about her like +lights from the pit. + +"Pledge me, Dick! Drink, and recover yourself. Who minds? We must all +die--the good and the bad. Ashes to ashes--dust to dust--and wine for +living lips! That's poetry--almost. Sentiment: `May we never say die +till we've drunk our fill! Not bad--eh? A little vulgar, perhaps, by +Jove! Do you think me horrid?" + +"Where's the wine?" Richard shouted. He drank a couple of glasses in +succession, and stared about. Was he in hell, with a lost soul raving to +him? + +"Nobly spoken! and nobly acted upon, my brave Dick! Now we'll be +companions." She wished that heaven had made her such a man. "Ah! Dick! +Dick! too late! too late!" + +Softly fell her voice. Her eyes threw slanting beams. + +"Do you see this?" + +She pointed to a symbolic golden anchor studded with gems and coiled with +a rope of hair in her bosom. It was a gift of his. + +"Do you know when I stole the lock? Foolish Dick! you gave me an anchor +without a rope. Come and see." + +She rose from the table, and threw herself on the sofa. + +"Don't you recognize your own hair! I should know a thread of mine among +a million." + +Something of the strength of Samson went out of him as he inspected his +hair on the bosom of Delilah. + +"And you knew nothing of it! You hardly know it now you see it! What +couldn't a woman steal from you? But you're not vain, and that's a +protection. You're a miracle, Dick: a man that's not vain! Sit here." +She curled up her feet to give him place on the sofa. "Now let us talk +like friends that part to meet no more. You found a ship with fever on +board, and you weren't afraid to come alongside and keep her company. +The fever isn't catching, you see. Let us mingle our tears together. +Ha! ha! a man said that once to me. The hypocrite wanted to catch the +fever, but he was too old. How old are you, Dick?" + +Richard pushed a few months forward. + +"Twenty-one? You just look it, you blooming boy. Now tell me my age, +Adonis!--Twenty--what?" + +Richard had given the lady twenty-five years. + +She laughed violently. "You don't pay compliments, Dick. Best to be +honest; guess again. You don't like to? Not twenty-five, or twenty- +four, or twenty-three, or see how he begins to stare!---twenty-two. Just +twenty-one, my dear. I think my birthday's somewhere in next month. +Why, look at me, close--closer. Have I a wrinkle?" + +"And when, in heaven's name!"...he stopped short. + +"I understand you. When did I commence for to live? At the ripe age of +sixteen I saw a nobleman in despair because of my beauty. He vowed he'd +die. I didn't want him to do that. So to save the poor man for his +family, I ran away with him, and I dare say they didn't appreciate the +sacrifice, and he soon forgot to, if he ever did. It's the way of the +world!" + +Richard seized some dead champagne, emptied the bottle into a tumbler, +and drank it off. + +John footman entered to clear the table, and they were left without +further interruption. + +"Bella! Bella!" Richard uttered in a deep sad voice, as he walked the +room. + +She leaned on her arm, her hair crushed against a reddened cheek, her +eyes half-shut and dreamy. + +"Bella!" he dropped beside her. "You are unhappy." + +She blinked and yawned, as one who is awakened suddenly. "I think you +spoke," said she. + +"You are unhappy, Bella. You can't conceal it. Your laugh sounds like +madness. You must be unhappy. So young, too! Only twenty-one!" + +"What does it matter? Who cares for me?" + +The mighty pity falling from his eyes took in her whole shape. She did +not mistake it for tenderness, as another would have done. + +"Who cares for you, Bella? I do. What makes my misery now, but to see +you there, and know of no way of helping you? Father of mercy! it seems +too much to have to stand by powerless while such ruin is going on!" + +Her hand was shaken in his by the passion of torment with which his frame +quaked. + +Involuntarily a tear started between her eyelids. She glanced up at him +quickly, then looked down, drew her hand from his, and smoothed it, eying +it. + +"Bella! you have a father alive!" + +"A linendraper, dear. He wears a white neck-cloth." + +This article of apparel instantaneously changed the tone of the +conversation, for he, rising abruptly, nearly squashed the lady's lap- +dog, whose squeaks and howls were piteous, and demanded the most fervent +caresses of its mistress. It was: "Oh, my poor pet Mumpsy, and he didn't +like a nasty great big ugly heavy foot an his poor soft silky--mum--mum-- +back, he didn't, and he soodn't that he--mum--mum--soodn't; and he cried +out and knew the place to come to, and was oh so sorry for what had +happened to him--mum--mum--mum--and now he was going to be made happy, +his mistress make him happy--mum--mum--mum--moo-o-o-o." + +"Yes!" said Richard, savagely, from the other end of the room, "you care +for the happiness of your dog." + +"A course se does," Mumpsy was simperingly assured in the thick of his +silky flanks. + +Richard looked for his hat. Mumpsy was deposited on the sofa in a +twinkling. + +"Now," said the lady, "you must come and beg Mumpsy's pardon, whether you +meant to do it or no, because little doggies can't tell that--how should +they? And there's poor Mumpsy thinking you're a great terrible rival +that tries to squash him all flat to nothing, on purpose, pretending you +didn't see; and he's trembling, poor dear wee pet! And I may love my +dog, sir, if I like; and I do; and I won't have him ill-treated, for he's +never been jealous of you, and he is a darling, ten times truer than men, +and I love him fifty times better. So come to him with me." + +First a smile changed Richard's face; then laughing a melancholy laugh, +he surrendered to her humour, and went through the form of begging +Mumpsy's pardon. + +"The dear dog! I do believe he saw we were getting dull," said she. + +"And immolated himself intentionally? Noble animal!" + +"Well, we'll act as if we thought so. Let us be gay, Richard, and not +part like ancient fogies. Where's your fun? You can rattle; why don't +you? You haven't seen me in one of my characters--not Sir Julius: wait a +couple of minutes." She ran out. + +A white visage reappeared behind a spring of flame. Her black hair was +scattered over her shoulders and fell half across her brows. She moved +slowly, and came up to him, fastening weird eyes on him, pointing a +finger at the region of witches. Sepulchral cadences accompanied the +representation. He did not listen, for he was thinking what a deadly +charming and exquisitely horrid witch she was. Something in the way her +underlids worked seemed to remind him of a forgotten picture; but a veil +hung on the picture. There could be no analogy, for this was beautiful +and devilish, and that, if he remembered rightly, had the beauty of +seraphs. + +His reflections and her performance were stayed by a shriek. The spirits +of wine had run over the plate she held to the floor. She had the +coolness to put the plate down on the table, while he stamped out the +flame on the carpet. Again she shrieked: she thought she was on fire. +He fell on his knees and clasped her skirts all round, drawing his arms +down them several times. + +Still kneeling, he looked up, and asked, "Do you feel safe now?" + +She bent her face glaring down till the ends of her hair touched his +cheek. + +Said she, "Do you?" + +Was she a witch verily? There was sorcery in her breath; sorcery in her +hair: the ends of it stung him like little snakes. + +"How do I do it, Dick?" she flung back, laughing. + +"Like you do everything, Bella," he said, and took breath. + +"There! I won't be a witch; I won't be a witch: they may burn me to a +cinder, but I won't be a witch!" + +She sang, throwing her hair about, and stamping her feet. + +"I suppose I look a figure. I must go and tidy myself." + +"No, don't change. I like to see you so." He gazed at her with a +mixture of wonder and admiration. "I can't think you the same person-- +not even when you laugh." + +"Richard," her tone was serious, "you were going to speak to me of my +parents." + +"How wild and awful you looked, Bella!" + +"My father, Richard, was a very respectable man." + +"Bella, you'll haunt me like a ghost." + +"My mother died in my infancy, Richard." + +"Don't put up your hair, Bella." + +"I was an only child!" + +Her head shook sorrowfully at the glistening fire-irons. He followed the +abstracted intentness of her look, and came upon her words. + +"Ah, yes! speak of your father, Bella. Speak of him." + +"Shall I haunt you, and come to your bedside, and cry, '`Tis time'?" + +"Dear Bella! if you will tell me where he lives, I will go to him. He +shall receive you. He shall not refuse--he shall forgive you." + +"If I haunt you, you can't forget me, Richard." + +"Let me go to your father, Bella let me go to him to-morrow. I'll give +you my time. It's all I can give. O Bella! let me save you." + +"So you like me best dishevelled, do you, you naughty boy! Ha! ha!" and +away she burst from him, and up flew her hair, as she danced across the +room, and fell at full length on the sofa. + +He felt giddy: bewitched. + +"We'll talk of everyday things, Dick," she called to him from the sofa. +"It's our last evening. Our last? Heigho! It makes me sentimental. +How's that Mr. Ripson, Pipson, Nipson?--it's not complimentary, but I +can't remember names of that sort. Why do you have friends of that sort? +He's not a gentleman. Better is he? Well, he's rather too insignificant +for me. Why do you sit off there? Come to me instantly. There--I'll +sit up, and be proper, and you'll have plenty of room. Talk, Dick!" + +He was reflecting on the fact that her eyes were brown. They had a +haughty sparkle when she pleased, and when she pleased a soft languor +circled them. Excitement had dyed her cheeks deep red. He was a youth, +and she an enchantress. He a hero; she a female will-o'-the-wisp. + +The eyes were languid now, set in rosy colour. + +"You will not leave me yet, Richard? not yet?" + +He had no thought of departing: + +"It's our last night--I suppose it's our last hour together in this +world--and I don't want to meet you in the next, for poor Dick will have +to come to such a very, very disagreeable place to make the visit." + +He grasped her hand at this. + +"Yes, he will! too true! can't be helped: they say I'm handsome." + +"You're lovely, Bella." + +She drank in his homage. + +"Well, we'll admit it. His Highness below likes lovely women, I hear +say. A gentleman of taste! You don't know all my accomplishments yet, +Richard." + +"I shan't be astonished at anything new, Bella." + +"Then hear, and wonder." Her voice trolled out some lively roulades. +"Don't you think he'll make me his prima donna below? It's nonsense to +tell me there's no singing there. And the atmosphere will be favourable +to the voice. No damp, you know. You saw the piano--why didn't you ask +me to sing before? I can sing Italian. I had a master--who made love to +me. I forgave him because of the music-stool--men can't help it on a +music-stool, poor dears!" + +She went to the piano, struck the notes, and sang-- + + "'My heart, my heart--I think 'twill break.' + +"Because I'm such a rake. I don't know any other reason. No; I hate +sentimental songs. Won't sing that. Ta-tiddy-tiddy-iddy--a...e! How +ridiculous those women were, coming home from Richmond! + + 'Once the sweet romance of story + Clad thy moving form with grace; + Once the world and all its glory + Was but framework to thy face. + Ah, too fair!--what I remember + Might my soul recall--but no! + To the winds this wretched ember + Of a fire that falls so low!' + +"Hum! don't much like that. Tum-te-tum-tum--accanto al fuoco--heigho! I +don't want to show off, Dick--or to break down--so I won't try that. + + 'Oh! but for thee, oh! but for thee, + I might have been a happy wife, + And nursed a baby on my knee, + And never blushed to give it life.' + +"I used to sing that when I was a girl, sweet Richard, and didn't know at +all, at all, what it meant. Mustn't sing that sort of song in company. +We're oh! so proper--even we! + + 'If I had a husband, what think you I'd do? + I'd make it my business to keep him a lover; + For when a young gentleman ceases to woo, + Some other amusement he'll quickly discover.' + +"For such are young gentlemen made of--made of: such are young gentlemen +made of!" + +After this trifling she sang a Spanish ballad sweetly. He was in the +mood when imagination intensely vivifies everything. Mere suggestions of +music sufficed. The lady in the ballad had been wronged. Lo! it was the +lady before him; and soft horns blew; he smelt the languid night-flowers; +he saw the stars crowd large and close above the arid plain this lady +leaning at her window desolate, pouring out her abandoned heart. + +Heroes know little what they owe to champagne. + +The lady wandered to Venice. Thither he followed her at a leap. In +Venice she was not happy. He was prepared for the misery of any woman +anywhere. But, oh! to be with her! To glide with phantom-motion through +throbbing street; past houses muffled in shadow and gloomy legends; under +storied bridges; past palaces charged with full life in dead quietness; +past grand old towers, colossal squares, gleaming quays, and out, and on +with her, on into the silver infinity shaking over seas! + +Was it the champagne? the music? or the poetry? Something of the two +former, perhaps: but most the enchantress playing upon him. How many +instruments cannot clever women play upon at the same moment! And this +enchantress was not too clever, or he might have felt her touch. She was +no longer absolutely bent on winning him, or he might have seen a +manoeuvre. She liked him--liked none better. She wished him well. Her +pique was satisfied. Still he was handsome, and he was going. What she +liked him for, she rather--very slightly--wished to do away with, or see +if it could be done away with: just as one wishes to catch a pretty +butterfly, without hurting its patterned wings. No harm intended to the +innocent insect, only one wants to inspect it thoroughly, and enjoy the +marvel of it, in one's tender possession, and have the felicity of +thinking one could crush it, if one would. + +He knew her what she was, this lady. In Seville, or in Venice, the spot +was on her. Sailing the pathways of the moon it was not celestial light +that illumined her beauty. Her sin was there: but in dreaming to save, +he was soft to her sin--drowned it in deep mournfulness. + +Silence, and the rustle of her dress, awoke him from his musing. She +swam wave-like to the sofa. She was at his feet. + +"I have been light and careless to-night, Richard. Of course I meant it. +I must be happy with my best friend going to leave me." + +Those witch underlids were working brightly. + +"You will not forget me? and I shall try...try..." + +Her lips twitched. She thought him such a very handsome fellow. + +"If I change--if I can change... Oh! if you could know what a net I'm +in, Richard!" + +Now at those words, as he looked down on her haggard loveliness, not +divine sorrow but a devouring jealousy sprang like fire in his breast, +and set him rocking with horrid pain. He bent closer to her pale +beseeching face. Her eyes still drew him down. + +"Bella! No! no! promise me! swear it!" + +"Lost, Richard! lost for ever! give me up!" + +He cried: "I never will!" and strained her in his arms, and kissed her +passionately on the lips. + +She was not acting now as she sidled and slunk her half-averted head with +a kind of maiden shame under his arm, sighing heavily, weeping, clinging +to him. It was wicked truth. + +Not a word of love between them! + +Was ever hero in this fashion won? + + + + +ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: + +A woman who has mastered sauces sits on the apex of civilization +Behold the hero embarked in the redemption of an erring beauty +Come prepared to be not very well satisfied with anything +Habit had legalized his union with her +Hero embarked in the redemption of an erring beautiful woman +His equanimity was fictitious +His fancy performed miraculous feats +How many instruments cannot clever women play upon +I ain't a speeder of matrimony +Opened a wider view of the world to him, and a colder +Serene presumption +The Pilgrim's Scrip remarks that: Young men take joy in nothing +Threats of prayer, however, that harp upon their sincerity +To be passive in calamity is the province of no woman +Unaccustomed to have his will thwarted +Women are swift at coming to conclusions in these matters + + + + +End of this Project Gutenberg Etext of Ordeal Richard Feverel, v5 +by George Meredith + + + + + + +THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL + +By GEORGE MEREDITH + +1905 + + + +BOOK 6. + +XXXIX. THE LITTLE BIRD AND THE FALCON: A BERRY + TO THE RESCUE! +XL. CLARE'S DIARY +XLI. AUSTIN RETURNS +XLII. NATURE SPEAKS +XLIII. AGAIN THE MAGIAN CONFLICT +XLIV. THE LAST SCENE +XLV. LADY BLANDISH TO AUSTIN WENTWORTH + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX + +At a season when the pleasant South-western Island has few attractions to +other than invalids and hermits enamoured of wind and rain, the potent +nobleman, Lord Mountfalcon, still lingered there to the disgust of his +friends and special parasite. "Mount's in for it again," they said among +themselves. "Hang the women!" was a natural sequence. For, don't you +see, what a shame it was of the women to be always kindling such a very +inflammable subject! All understood that Cupid had twanged his bow, and +transfixed a peer of Britain for the fiftieth time: but none would +perceive, though he vouched for it with his most eloquent oaths, that +this was a totally different case from the antecedent ones. So it had +been sworn to them too frequently before. He was as a man with mighty +tidings, and no language: intensely communicative, but inarticulate. +Good round oaths had formerly compassed and expounded his noble emotions. +They were now quite beyond the comprehension of blasphemy, even when +emphasized, and by this the poor lord divinely felt the case was +different. There is something impressive in a great human hulk writhing +under the unutterable torments of a mastery he cannot contend with, or +account for, or explain by means of intelligible words. At first he took +refuge in the depths of his contempt for women. Cupid gave him line. +When he had come to vent his worst of them, the fair face now stamped on +his brain beamed the more triumphantly: so the harpooned whale rose to +the surface, and after a few convulsions, surrendered his huge length. +My lord was in love with Richard's young wife. He gave proofs of it by +burying himself beside her. To her, could she have seen it, he gave +further proofs of a real devotion, in affecting, and in her presence +feeling, nothing beyond a lively interest in her well-being. This +wonder, that when near her he should be cool and composed, and when away +from her wrapped in a tempest of desires, was matter for what powers of +cogitation the heavy nobleman possessed. + +The Hon. Peter, tired of his journeys to and fro, urged him to press the +business. Lord Mountfalcon was wiser, or more scrupulous, than his +parasite. Almost every evening he saw Lucy. The inexperienced little +wife apprehended no harm in his visits. Moreover, Richard had commended +her to the care of Lord Mountfalcon, and Lady Judith. Lady Judith had +left the Island for London: Lord Mountfalcon remained. There could be no +harm. If she had ever thought so, she no longer did. Secretly, perhaps, +she was flattered. Lord Mountfalcon was as well educated as it is the +fortune of the run of titled elder sons to be: he could talk and +instruct: he was a lord: and he let her understand that he was wicked, +very wicked, and that she improved him. The heroine, in common with the +hero, has her ambition to be of use in the world--to do some good: and +the task of reclaiming a bad man is extremely seductive to good women. +Dear to their tender bosoms as old china is a bad man they are mending! +Lord Mountfalcon had none of the arts of a libertine: his gold, his +title, and his person had hitherto preserved him from having long to sigh +in vain, or sigh at all, possibly: the Hon. Peter did his villanies for +him. No alarm was given to Lucy's pure instinct, as might have been the +case had my lord been over-adept. It was nice in her martyrdom to have a +true friend to support her, and really to be able to do something for +that friend. Too simple-minded to think much of his lordship's position, +she was yet a woman. "He, a great nobleman, does not scorn to +acknowledge me, and think something of me," may have been one of the +half-thoughts passing through her now and then, as she reflected in self- +defence on the proud family she had married into. + +January was watering and freezing old earth by turns, when the Hon. Peter +travelled down to the sun of his purse with great news. He had no sooner +broached his lordship's immediate weakness, than Mountfalcon began to +plunge like a heavy dragoon in difficulties. He swore by this and that +he had come across an angel for his sins, and would do her no hurt. The +next moment he swore she must be his, though she cursed like a cat. His +lordship's illustrations were not choice. "I haven't advanced an inch," +he groaned. "Brayder! upon my soul, that little woman could do anything +with me. By heaven! I'd marry her to-morrow. Here I am, seeing her +every day in the week out or in, and what do you think she gets me to +talk about?--history! Isn't it enough to make a fellow mad? and there am +I lecturing like a prig, and by heaven! while I'm at it I feel a pleasure +in it; and when I leave the house I should feel an immense gratification +in shooting somebody. What do they say in town?" + +"Not much," said Brayder, significantly. + +"When's that fellow--her husband--coming down?" + +"I rather hope we've settled him for life, Mount." + +Nobleman and parasite exchanged looks. + +"How d'ye mean?" + +Brayder hummed an air, and broke it to say, "He's in for Don Juan at a +gallop, that's all." + +"The deuce! Has Bella got him?" Mountfalcon asked with eagerness. + +Brayder handed my lord a letter. It was dated from the Sussex coast, +signed "Richard," and was worded thus: + +"My beautiful Devil!-- + +"Since we're both devils together, and have found each other out, come to +me at once, or I shall be going somewhere in a hurry. Come, my bright +hell-star! I ran away from you, and now I ask you to come to me! You +have taught me how devils love, and I can't do without you. Come an hour +after you receive this." + +Mountfalcon turned over the letter to see if there was any more. +"Complimentary love-epistle!" he remarked, and rising from his chair and +striding about, muttered, "The dog! how infamously he treats his wife!" + +"Very bad," said Brayder. + +"How did you get hold of this?" + +"Strolled into Belle's dressing-room, waiting for her turned over her +pincushion hap-hazard. You know her trick." + +"By Jove! I think that girl does it on purpose. Thank heaven, I haven't +written her any letters for an age. Is she going to him?" + +"Not she! But it's odd, Mount!--did you ever know her refuse money +before? She tore up the cheque in style, and presented me the fragments +with two or three of the delicacies of language she learnt at your +Academy. I rather like to hear a woman swear. It embellishes her!" + +Mountfalcon took counsel of his parasite as to the end the letter could +be made to serve. Both conscientiously agreed that Richard's behaviour +to his wife was infamous, and that he at least deserved no mercy. "But," +said his lordship, "it won't do to show the letter. At first she'll be +swearing it's false, and then she'll stick to him closer. I know the +sluts." + +"The rule of contrary," said Brayder, carelessly. "She must see the +trahison with her eyes. "They believe their eyes. There's your chance, +Mount. You step in: you give her revenge and consolation--two birds at +one shot. That's what they like." + +"You're an ass, Brayder," the nobleman exclaimed. "You're an infernal +blackguard. You talk of this little woman as if she and other women were +all of a piece. I don't see anything I gain by this confounded letter. +Her husband's a brute--that's clear." + +"Will you leave it to me, Mount?" + +"Be damned before I do!" muttered my lord. + +"Thank you. Now see how this will end: You're too soft, Mount. You'll +be made a fool of." + +"I tell you, Brayder, there's nothing to be done. If I carry her off-- +I've been on the point of doing it every day--what'll come of that? +She'll look--I can't stand her eyes--I shall be a fool--worse off with +her than I am now." + +Mountfalcon yawned despondently. "And what do you think?" he pursued. +"Isn't it enough to make a fellow gnash his teeth? She's"...he mentioned +something in an underbreath, and turned red as he said it. + +"Hm!" Brayder put up his mouth and rapped the handle of his cane on his +chin. "That's disagreeable, Mount. You don't exactly want to act in +that character. You haven't got a diploma. Bother!" + +"Do you think I love her a bit less?" broke out my lord in a frenzy. "By +heaven! I'd read to her by her bedside, and talk that infernal history +to her, if it pleased her, all day and all night." + +"You're evidently graduating for a midwife, Mount." + +The nobleman appeared silently to accept the imputation. + +"What do they say in town?" he asked again. + +Brayder said the sole question was, whether it was maid, wife, or widow. + +"I'll go to her this evening," Mountfalcon resumed, after--to judge by +the cast of his face--reflecting deeply. "I'll go to her this evening. +She shall know what infernal torment she makes me suffer." + +"Do you mean to say she don't know it?" + +"Hasn't an idea--thinks me a friend. And so, by heaven! I'll be to +her." + +"A--hm!" went the Honourable Peter. "This way to the sign of the Green +Man, ladies!" + +"Do you want to be pitched out of the window, Brayder?" + +"Once was enough, Mount. The Salvage Man is strong. I may have +forgotten the trick of alighting on my feet. There--there! I'll be +sworn she's excessively innocent, and thinks you a disinterested friend." + +"I'll go to her this evening," Mountfalcon repeated. "She shall know +what damned misery it is to see her in such a position. I can't hold out +any longer. Deceit's horrible to such a girl as that. I'd rather have +her cursing me than speaking and looking as she does. Dear little girl!- +-she's only a child. You haven't an idea how sensible that little woman +is." + +"Have you?" inquired the cunning one. + +"My belief is, Brayder, that there are angels among women," said +Mountfalcon, evading his parasite's eye as he spoke. + +To the world, Lord Mountfalcon was the thoroughly wicked man; his +parasite simply ingeniously dissipated. Full many a man of God had +thought it the easier task to reclaim the Hon. Peter. + +Lucy received her noble friend by firelight that evening, and sat much in +the shade. She offered to have the candles brought in. He begged her to +allow the room to remain as it was. "I have something to say to you," he +observed with a certain solemnity. + +"Yes--to me?" said Lucy, quickly. + +Lord Mountfalcon knew he had a great deal to say, but how to say it, and +what it exactly was, he did not know.' + +"You conceal it admirably," he began, "but you must be very lonely here-- +I fear, unhappy." + +"I should have been lonely, but for your kindness, my lord," said Lucy. +"I am not unhappy." Her face was in shade and could not belie her. + +"Is there any help that one who would really be your friend might give +you, Mrs. Feverel?" + +"None indeed that I know of," Lucy replied. "Who can help us to pay for +our sins?" + +"At least you may permit me to endeavour to pay my debts, since you have +helped me to wash out some of any sins." + +"Ah, my lord!" said Lucy, not displeased. It is sweet for a woman to +believe she has drawn the serpent's teeth. + +"I tell you the truth," Lord Mountfalcon went on. "What object could I +have in deceiving you? I know you quite above flattery--so different +from other women!" + +"Oh, pray, do not say that," interposed Lucy. + +"According to my experience, then." + +"But you say you have met such--such very bad women." + +"I have. And now that I meet a good one, it is my misfortune." + +"Your misfortune, Lord Mountfalcon?" + +"Yes, and I might say more." + +His lordship held impressively mute. + +"How strange men are!" thought Lucy. "He had some unhappy secret." + +Tom Bakewell, who had a habit of coming into the room on various +pretences during the nobleman's visits, put a stop to the revelation, if +his lordship intended to make any. + +When they were alone again, Lucy said, smiling: "Do you know, I am always +ashamed to ask you to begin to read." + +Mountfalcon stared. "To read?--oh! ha! yes!" he remembered his evening +duties. "Very happy, I'm sure. Let me see. Where were we?" + +"The life of the Emperor Julian. But indeed I feel quite ashamed to ask +you to read, my lord. It's new to me; like a new world--hearing about +Emperors, and armies, and things that really have been on the earth we +walk upon. It fills my mind. But it must have ceased to interest you, +and I was thinking that I would not tease you any more." + +"Your pleasure is mine, Mrs. Feverel. 'Pon my honour, I'd read till I +was hoarse, to hear your remarks." + +"Are you laughing at me?" + +"Do I look so?" + +Lord Mountfalcon had fine full eyes, and by merely dropping the lids he +could appear to endow them with mental expression. + +"No, you are not," said Lucy. "I must thank you for your forbearance." + +The nobleman went on his honour loudly. + +Now it was an object of Lucy's to have him reading; for his sake, for her +sake, and for somebody else's sake; which somebody else was probably +considered first in the matter. When he was reading to her, he seemed to +be legitimizing his presence there; and though she had no doubts or +suspicions whatever, she was easier in her heart while she had him +employed in that office. So she rose to fetch the book, laid it open on +the table at his lordship's elbow, and quietly waited to ring for candles +when he should be willing to commence. + +That evening Lord Mountfalcon could not get himself up to the farce, and +he felt a pity for the strangely innocent unprotected child with anguish +hanging over her, that withheld the words he wanted to speak, or +insinuate. He sat silent and did nothing. + +"What I do not like him for," said Lucy, meditatively, "is his changing +his religion. He would have been such a hero, but for that. I could +have loved him." + +"Who is it you could have loved, Mrs. Feverel?" Lord Mountfalcon asked. + +"The Emperor Julian." + +"Oh! the Emperor Julian! Well, he was an apostate but then, you know, he +meant what he was about. He didn't even do it for a woman." + +"For a woman!" cried Lucy. "What man would for a woman?" + +"I would." + +"You, Lord Mountfalcon?" + +"Yes. I'd turn Catholic to-morrow." + +"You make me very unhappy if you say that, my lord." + +"Then I'll unsay it." + +Lucy slightly shuddered. She put her hand upon the bell to ring for +lights. + +"Do you reject a convert, Mrs. Feverel?" said the nobleman. + +"Oh yes! yes! I do. One who does not give his conscience I would not +have." + +"If he gives his heart and body, can he give more?" + +Lucy's hand pressed the bell. She did not like the doubtful light with +one who was so unscrupulous. Lord Mountfalcon had never spoken in this +way before. He spoke better, too. She missed the aristocratic twang in +his voice, and the hesitation for words, and the fluid lordliness with +which he rolled over difficulties in speech. + +Simultaneously with the sounding of the bell the door opened, and +presented Tom Bakewell. There was a double knock at the same instant at +the street door. Lucy delayed to give orders. + +"Can it be a letter, Tom!--so late?" she said, changing colour. "Pray +run and see." + +"That an't powst" Tom remarked, as he obeyed his mistress. + +"Are you very anxious for a letter, Mrs. Feverel?" Lord Mountfalcon +inquired. + +"Oh, no!--yes, I am, very." said Lucy. Her quick ear caught the tones of +a voice she remembered. "That dear old thing has come to see me," she +cried, starting up. + +Tom ushered a bunch of black satin into the room. + +"Mrs. Berry!" said Lucy, running up to her and kissing her. + +"Me, my darlin'!" Mrs. Berry, breathless and rosy with her journey, +returned the salute. "Me truly it is, in fault of a better, for I ain't +one to stand by and give the devil his licence--roamin'! and the salt +sure enough have spilte my bride-gown at the beginnin', which ain't the +best sign. Bless ye!--Oh, here he is." She beheld a male figure in a +chair by the half light, and swung around to address him. "You bad man!" +she held aloft one of her fat fingers, "I've come on ye like a bolt, I +have, and goin' to make ye do your duty, naughty boy! But your my +darlin' babe," she melted, as was her custom, "and I'll never meet you +and not give to ye the kiss of a mother." + +Before Lord Mountfalcon could find time to expostulate the soft woman had +him by the neck, and was down among his luxurious whiskers. + +"Ha!" She gave a smothered shriek, and fell back. "What hair's that?" + +Tom Bakewell just then illumined the transaction. + +"Oh, my gracious!" Mrs. Berry breathed with horror, "I been and kiss a +strange man!" + +Lucy, half-laughing, but in dreadful concern, begged the noble lord to +excuse the woful mistake. + +"Extremely flattered, highly favoured, I'm sure;" said his lordship, re- +arranging his disconcerted moustache; "may I beg the pleasure of an +introduction?" + +"My husband's dear old nurse--Mrs. Berry," said Lucy, taking her hand to +lend her countenance. "Lord Mountfalcon, Mrs. Berry." + +Mrs. Berry sought grace while she performed a series of apologetic bobs, +and wiped the perspiration from her forehead. + +Lucy put her into a chair: Lord Mountfalcon asked for an account of her +passage over to the Island; receiving distressingly full particulars, by +which it was revealed that the softness of her heart was only equalled by +the weakness of her stomach. The recital calmed Mrs. Berry down. + +"Well, and where's my--where's Mr. Richard? yer husband, my dear?" Mrs. +Berry turned from her tale to question. + +"Did you expect to see him here?" said Lucy, in a broken voice. + +"And where else, my love? since he haven't been seen in London a whole +fortnight." + +Lucy did not speak. + +"We will dismiss the Emperor Julian till to-morrow, I think," said Lord +Mountfalcon, rising and bowing. + +Lucy gave him her hand with mute thanks. He touched it distantly, +embraced Mrs. Berry in a farewell bow, and was shown out of the house by +Tom Bakewell. + +The moment he was gone, Mrs. Berry threw up her arms. "Did ye ever know +sich a horrid thing to go and happen to a virtuous woman!" she exclaimed. +"I could cry at it, I could! To be goin' and kissin' a strange hairy +man! Oh dear me! what's cornin' next, I wonder? Whiskers! thinks I--for +I know the touch o' whiskers--'t ain't like other hair--what! have he +growed a crop that sudden, I says to myself; and it flashed on me I been +and made a awful mistake! and the lights come in, and I see that great +hairy man--beggin' his pardon--nobleman, and if I could 'a dropped +through the floor out o' sight o' men, drat 'em! they're al'ays in the +way, that they are!"-- + +"Mrs. Berry," Lucy checked her, "did you expect to find him here?" + +"Askin' that solemn?" retorted Berry. "What him? your husband? O' +course I did! and you got him--somewheres hid." + +"I have not heard from my husband for fifteen days," said Lucy, and her +tears rolled heavily off her cheeks. + +"Not heer from him!--fifteen days!" Berry echoed. + +"O Mrs. Berry! dear kind Mrs. Berry! have you no news? nothing to tell +me! I've borne it so long. They're cruel to me, Mrs. Berry. Oh, do you +know if I have offended him--my husband? While he wrote I did not +complain. I could live on his letters for years. But not to hear from +him! To think I have ruined him, and that he repents! Do they want to +take him from me? Do they want me dead? O Mrs. Berry! I've had no one +to speak out my heart to all this time, and I cannot, cannot help crying, +Mrs. Berry!" + +Mrs. Berry was inclined to be miserable at what she heard from Lucy's +lips, and she was herself full of dire apprehension; but it was never +this excellent creature's system to be miserable in company. The sight +of a sorrow that was not positive, and could not refer to proof, set her +resolutely the other way. + +"Fiddle-faddle," she said. "I'd like to see him repent! He won't find +anywheres a beauty like his own dear little wife, and he know it. Now, +look you here, my dear--you blessed weepin' pet--the man that could see +ye with that hair of yours there in ruins, and he backed by the law, and +not rush into your arms and hold ye squeezed for life, he ain't got much +man in him, I say; and no one can say that of my babe! I was sayin', +look here, to comfort ye--oh, why, to be sure he've got some surprise for +ye. And so've I, my lamb! Hark, now! His father've come to town, like +a good reasonable man at last, to u-nite ye both, and bring your bodies +together, as your hearts is, for everlastin'. Now ain't that news?" + +"Oh!" cried Lucy, "that takes my last hope away. I thought he had gone +to his father." She burst into fresh tears. + +Mrs. Berry paused, disturbed. + +"Belike he's travellin' after him," she suggested. + +"Fifteen days, Mrs. Berry!" + +"Ah, fifteen weeks, my dear, after sieh a man as that. He's a regular +meteor, is Sir Austin Feverel, Raynham Abbey. Well, so hark you here. I +says to myself, that knows him--for I did think my babe was in his +natural nest--I says, the bar'net'll never write for you both to come up +and beg forgiveness, so down I'll go and fetch you up. For there was +your mistake, my dear, ever to leave your husband to go away from ye one +hour in a young marriage. It's dangerous, it's mad, it's wrong, and it's +only to be righted by your obeyin' of me, as I commands it: for I has my +fits, though I am a soft 'un. Obey me, and ye'll be happy tomorrow--or +the next to it." + +Lucy was willing to see comfort. She was weary of her self-inflicted +martyrdom, and glad to give herself up to somebody else's guidance +utterly. + +"But why does he not write to me, Mrs. Berry?" + +"'Cause, 'cause--who can tell the why of men, my dear? But that he love +ye faithful, I'll swear. Haven't he groaned in my arms that he couldn't +come to ye?--weak wretch! Hasn't he swore how he loved ye to me, poor +young man! But this is your fault, my sweet. Yes, it be. You should 'a +followed my 'dvice at the fust--'stead o' going into your 'eroics about +this and t'other." Here Mrs. Berry poured forth fresh sentences on +matrimony, pointed especially at young couples. "I should 'a been a fool +if I hadn't suffered myself," she confessed, "so I'll thank my Berry if I +makes you wise in season." + +Lucy smoothed her ruddy plump cheeks, and gazed up affectionately into +the soft woman's kind brown eyes. Endearing phrases passed from mouth to +mouth. And as she gazed Lucy blushed, as one who has something very +secret to tell, very sweet, very strange, but cannot quite bring herself +to speak it. + +"Well! these's three men in my life I kissed," said Mrs. Berry, too much +absorbed in her extraordinary adventure to notice the young wife's +struggling bosom, "three men, and one a nobleman! He've got more whisker +than my Berry, I wonder what the man thought. Ten to one he'll think, +now, I was glad o' my chance--they're that vain, whether they's lords or +commons. How was I to know? I nat'ral thinks none but her husband'd sit +in that chair. Ha! and in the dark? and alone with ye?" Mrs. Berry +hardened her eyes, "and your husband away? What do this mean? Tell to +me, child, what it mean his bein' here alone without ere a candle?" + +"Lord Mountfalcon is the only friend I have here," said Lucy. "He is +very kind. He comes almost every evening." + +"Lord Montfalcon--that his name!" Mrs. Berry exclaimed. "I been that +flurried by the man, I didn't mind it at first. He come every evenin', +and your husband out o' sight! My goodness me! it's gettin' worse and +worse. And what do he come for, now, ma'am? Now tell me candid what ye +do together here in the dark of an evenin'." + +Mrs. Berry glanced severely. + +"O Mrs. Berry! please not to speak in that way--I don't like it," said +Lucy, pouting. + +"What do he come for, I ask?" + +"Because he is kind, Mrs. Berry. He sees me very lonely, and wishes to +amuse me. And he tells me of things I know nothing about and"-- + +"And wants to be a-teachin' some of his things, mayhap," Mrs. Berry +interrupted with a ruffled breast. + +"You are a very ungenerous, suspicious, naughty old woman," said Lucy, +chiding her. + +"And you're a silly, unsuspectin' little bird," Mrs. Berry retorted, as +she returned her taps on the cheek. "You haven't told me what ye do +together, and what's his excuse for comin'." + +"Well, then, Mrs. Berry, almost every evening that he comes we read +History, and he explains the battles, and talks to me about the great +men. And he says I'm not silly, Mrs. Berry." + +"That's one bit o' lime on your wings, my bird. History, indeed! +History to a young married lovely woman alone in the dark! a pretty +History! Why, I know that man's name, my dear. He's a notorious living +rake, that Lord Montfalcon. No woman's safe with him." + +"Ah, but he hasn't deceived me, Mrs. Berry. He has not pretended he was +good." + +"More's his art," quoth the experienced dame. "So you read History +together in the dark; my dear!" + +"I was unwell to-night, Mrs. Berry. I wanted him not to see my face. +Look! there's the book open ready for him when the candles come in. And +now, you dear kind darling old thing, let me kiss you for coming to me. +I do love you. Talk of other things." + +"So we will," said Mrs. Berry softening to Lucy's caresses. "So let us. +A nobleman, indeed, alone with a young wife in the dark, and she sich a +beauty! I say this shall be put a stop to now and henceforth, on the +spot it shall! He won't meneuvele Bessy Berry with his arts. There! I +drop him. I'm dyin' for a cup o' tea, my dear." + +Lucy got up to ring the bell, and as Mrs. Berry, incapable of quite +dropping him, was continuing to say: "Let him go and boast I kiss him; he +ain't nothin' to be 'shamed of in a chaste woman's kiss--unawares--which +men don't get too often in their lives, I can assure 'em;"--her eye +surveyed Lucy's figure. + +Lo, when Lucy returned to her, Mrs. Berry surrounded her with her arms, +and drew her into feminine depths. "Oh, you blessed!" she cried in most +meaning tone, "you good, lovin', proper little wife, you!" + +"What is it, Mrs. Berry!" lisps Lucy, opening the most innocent blue +eyes. + +"As if I couldn't see, you pet! It was my flurry blinded me, or I'd 'a +marked ye the fast shock. Thinkin' to deceive me!" + +Mrs. Berry's eyes spoke generations. Lucy's wavered; she coloured all +over, and hid her face on the bounteous breast that mounted to her. + +"You're a sweet one," murmured the soft woman, patting her back, and +rocking her. "You're a rose, you are! and a bud on your stalk. Haven't +told a word to your husband, my dear?" she asked quickly. + +Lucy shook her head, looking sly and shy. + +"That's right. We'll give him a surprise; let it come all at once on +him, and thinks he--losin' breath 'I'm a father!' Nor a hint even you +haven't give him?" + +Lucy kissed her, to indicate it was quite a secret. + +"Oh! you are a sweet one," said Bessy Berry, and rocked her more closely +and lovingly. + +Then these two had a whispered conversation, from which let all of male +persuasion retire a space nothing under one mile. + +Returning, after a due interval, we see Mrs. Berry counting on her +fingers' ends. Concluding the sum, she cries prophetically: "Now this +right everything--a baby in the balance! Now I say this angel-infant +come from on high. It's God's messenger, my love! and it's not wrong to +say so. He thinks you worthy, or you wouldn't 'a had one--not for all +the tryin' in the world, you wouldn't, and some tries hard enough, poor +creatures! Now let us rejice and make merry! I'm for cryin' and +laughin', one and the same. This is the blessed seal of matrimony, which +Berry never stamp on me. It's be hoped it's a boy. Make that man a +grandfather, and his grandchild a son, and you got him safe. Oh! this +is what I call happiness, and I'll have my tea a little stronger in +consequence. I declare I could get tipsy to know this joyful news." + +So Mrs. Berry carolled. She had her tea a little stronger. She ate and +she drank; she rejoiced and made merry. The bliss of the chaste was +hers. + +Says Lucy demurely: "Now you know why I read History, and that sort of +books." + +"Do I?" replies Berry. "Belike I do. Since what you done's so good, my +darlin', I'm agreeable to anything. A fig for all the lords! They can't +come anigh a baby. You may read Voyages and Travels, my dear, and +Romances, and Tales of Love and War. You cut the riddle in your own dear +way, and that's all I cares for." + +"No, but you don't understand," persists Lucy. "I only read sensible +books, and talk of serious things, because I'm sure... because I have +heard say...dear Mrs. Berry! don't you understand now?" + +Mrs. Berry smacked her knees. "Only to think of her bein' that +thoughtful! and she a Catholic, too! Never tell me that people of one +religion ain't as good as another, after that. Why, you want to make him +a historian, to be sure! And that rake of a lord who've been comin' here +playin' at wolf, you been and made him--unbeknown to himself--sort o' +tutor to the unborn blessed! Ha! ha! say that little women ain't got art +ekal to the cunningest of 'em. Oh! I understand. Why, to be sure, +didn't I know a lady, a widow of a clergyman: he was a postermost child, +and afore his birth that women read nothin' but Blair's 'Grave' over and +over again, from the end to the beginnin';--that's a serious book!--very +hard readin'!--and at four years of age that child that come of it reelly +was the piousest infant!--he was like a little curate. His eyes was up; +he talked so solemn." Mrs. Berry imitated the little curate's appearance +and manner of speaking. "So she got her wish, for one!" + +But at this lady Lucy laughed. + +They chattered on happily till bedtime. Lucy arranged for Mrs. Berry to +sleep with her. "If it's not dreadful to ye, my sweet, sleepin' beside a +woman," said Mrs. Berry. "I know it were to me shortly after my Berry, +and I felt it. It don't somehow seem nat'ral after matrimony--a woman in +your bed! I was obliged to have somebody, for the cold sheets do give ye +the creeps when you've been used to that that's different." + +Upstairs they went together, Lucy not sharing these objections. Then +Lucy opened certain drawers, and exhibited pretty caps, and laced linen, +all adapted for a very small body, all the work of her own hands: and +Mrs. Berry praised them and her. "You been guessing a boy--woman-like," +she said. Then they cooed, and kissed, and undressed by the fire, and +knelt at the bedside, with their arms about each other, praying; both +praying for the unborn child; and Mrs. Berry pressed Lucy's waist the +moment she was about to breathe the petition to heaven to shield and +bless that coming life; and thereat Lucy closed to her, and felt a strong +love for her. Then Lucy got into bed first, leaving Berry to put out the +light, and before she did so, Berry leaned over her, and eyed her +roguishly, saying, "I never see ye like this, but I'm half in love with +ye myself, you blushin' beauty! Sweet's your eyes, and your hair do take +one so--lyin' back. I'd never forgive my father if he kep me away from +ye four-and-twenty hours just. Husband o' that!" Berry pointed at the +young wife's loveliness. "Ye look so ripe with kisses, and there they +are a-languishin'!--... You never look so but in your bed, ye beauty!-- +just as it ought to be." Lucy had to pretend to rise to put out the +light before Berry would give up her amorous chaste soliloquy. Then they +lay in bed, and Mrs. Berry fondled her, and arranged for their departure +to-morrow, and reviewed Richard's emotions when he came to hear he was +going to be made a father by her, and hinted at Lucy's delicious shivers +when Richard was again in his rightful place, which she, Bessy Berry, now +usurped; and all sorts of amorous sweet things; enough to make one fancy +the adage subverted, that stolen fruits are sweetest; she drew such +glowing pictures of bliss within the law and the limits of the +conscience, till at last, worn out, Lucy murmured "Peepy, dear Berry," +and the soft woman gradually ceased her chirp. + +Bessy Berry did not sleep. She lay thinking of the sweet brave heart +beside her, and listening to Lucy's breath as it came and went; squeezing +the fair sleeper's hand now and then, to ease her love as her reflections +warmed. A storm of wind came howling over the Hampshire hills, and +sprang white foam on the water, and shook the bare trees. It passed, +leaving a thin cloth of snow on the wintry land. The moon shone +brilliantly. Berry heard the house-dog bark. His bark was savage and +persistent. She was roused by the noise. By and by she fancied she +heard a movement in the house; then it seemed to her that the house-door +opened. She cocked her ears, and could almost make out voices in the +midnight stillness. She slipped from the bed, locked and bolted the door +of the room, assured herself of Lucy's unconsciousness, and went on +tiptoe to the window. The trees all stood white to the north; the ground +glittered; the cold was keen. Berry wrapped her fat arms across her +bosom, and peeped as close over into the garden as the situation of the +window permitted. Berry was a soft, not a timid, woman: and it happened +this night that her thoughts were above the fears of the dark. She was +sure of the voices; curiosity without a shade of alarm held her on the +watch; and gathering bundles of her day-apparel round her neck and +shoulders, she silenced the chattering of her teeth as well as she could, +and remained stationary. The low hum of the voices came to a break; +something was said in a louder tone; the house-door quietly shut; a man +walked out of the garden into the road. He paused opposite her window, +and Berry let the blind go back to its place, and peeped from behind an +edge of it. He was in the shadow of the house, so that it was impossible +to discern much of his figure. After some minutes he walked rapidly +away, and Berry returned to the bed an icicle, from which Lucy's limbs +sensitively shrank. + +Next morning Mrs. Berry asked Tom Bakewell if he had been disturbed in +the night. Tom, the mysterious, said he had slept like a top. Mrs. +Berry went into the garden. The snow was partially melted; all save one +spot, just under the portal, and there she saw the print of a man's foot. +By some strange guidance it occurred to her to go and find one of +Richard's boots. She did so, and, unperceived, she measured the sole of +the boot in that solitary footmark. There could be no doubt that it +fitted. She tried it from heel to toe a dozen times. + + + + +CHAPTER XL + + +Sir Austin Feverel had come to town with the serenity of a philosopher +who says, 'Tis now time; and the satisfaction of a man who has not +arrived thereat without a struggle. He had almost forgiven his son. His +deep love for him had well-nigh shaken loose from wounded pride and more +tenacious vanity. Stirrings of a remote sympathy for the creature who +had robbed him of his son and hewed at his System, were in his heart of +hearts. This he knew; and in his own mind he took credit for his +softness. But the world must not suppose him soft; the world must think +he was still acting on his System. Otherwise what would his long absence +signify?--Something highly unphilosophical. So, though love was strong, +and was moving him to a straightforward course, the last tug of vanity +drew him still aslant. + +The Aphorist read himself so well, that to juggle with himself was a +necessity. As he wished the world to see him, he beheld himself: one who +entirely put aside mere personal feelings: one in whom parental duty, +based on the science of life, was paramount: a Scientific Humanist, in +short. + +He was, therefore, rather surprised at a coldness in Lady Blandish's +manner when he did appear. "At last!" said the lady, in a sad way that +sounded reproachfully. Now the Scientific Humanist had, of course, +nothing to reproach himself with. + +But where was Richard? + +Adrian positively averred he was not with his wife. + +"If he had gone," said the baronet, "he would have anticipated me by a +few hours." + +This, when repeated to Lady Blandish, should have propitiated her, and +shown his great forgiveness. She, however, sighed, and looked at him +wistfully. + +Their converse was not happy and deeply intimate. Philosophy did not +seem to catch her mind; and fine phrases encountered a rueful assent, +more flattering to their grandeur than to their influence. + +Days went by. Richard did not present himself. Sir Austin's pitch of +self-command was to await the youth without signs of impatience. + +Seeing this, the lady told him her fears for Richard, and mentioned the +rumour of him that was about. + +"If," said the baronet, "this person, his wife, is what you paint her, I +do not share your fears for him. I think too well of him. If she is one +to inspire the sacredness of that union, I think too well of him. It is +impossible." + +The lady saw one thing to be done. + +"Call her to you," she said. "Have her with you at Raynham. Recognize +her. It is the disunion and doubt that so confuses him and drives him +wild. I confess to you I hoped he had gone to her. It seems not. If +she is with you his way will be clear. Will you do that?" + +Science is notoriously of slow movement. Lady Blandish's proposition was +far too hasty for Sir Austin. Women, rapid by nature, have no idea of +science. + +"We shall see her there in time, Emmeline. At present let it be between +me and my son." + +He spoke loftily. In truth it offended him to be asked to do anything, +when he had just brought himself to do so much. + +A month elapsed, and Richard appeared on the scene. + +The meeting between him and his father was not what his father had +expected and had crooned over in the Welsh mountains. Richard shook his +hand respectfully, and inquired after his health with the common social +solicitude. He then said: "During your absence, sir, I have taken the +liberty, without consulting you, to do something in which you are more +deeply concerned than myself. I have taken upon myself to find out my +mother and place her under my care. I trust you will not think I have +done wrong. I acted as I thought best." + +Sir Austin replied: "You are of an age, Richard, to judge for yourself in +such a case. I would have you simply beware of deceiving yourself in +imagining that you considered any one but yourself in acting as you did." + +"I have not deceived myself, sir," said Richard, and the interview was +over. Both hated an exposure of the feelings, and in that both were +satisfied: but the baronet, as one who loves, hoped and looked for tones +indicative of trouble and delight in the deep heart; and Richard gave him +none of those. The young man did not even face him as he spoke: if their +eyes met by chance, Richard's were defiantly cold. His whole bearing was +changed. + +"This rash marriage has altered him," said the very just man of science +in life: and that meant: "it has debased him." + +He pursued his reflections. "I see in him the desperate maturity of a +suddenly-ripened nature: and but for my faith that good work is never +lost, what should I think of the toil of my years? Lost, perhaps to me! +lost to him! It may show itself in his children." + +The Philosopher, we may conceive, has contentment in benefiting embryos: +but it was a somewhat bitter prospect to Sir Austin. Bitterly he felt +the injury to himself. + +One little incident spoke well of Richard. A poor woman called at the +hotel while he was missing. The baronet saw her, and she told him a tale +that threw Christian light on one part of Richard's nature. But this +might gratify the father in Sir Austin; it did not touch the man of +science. A Feverel, his son, would not do less, he thought. He sat down +deliberately to study his son. + +No definite observations enlightened him. Richard ate and drank; joked +and laughed. He was generally before Adrian in calling for a fresh +bottle. He talked easily of current topics; his gaiety did not sound +forced. In all he did, nevertheless, there was not the air of a youth +who sees a future before him. Sir Austin put that down. It might be +carelessness, and wanton blood, for no one could say he had much on his +mind. The man of science was not reckoning that Richard also might have +learned to act and wear a mask. Dead subjects--this is to say, people +not on their guard--he could penetrate and dissect. It is by a rare +chance, as scientific men well know, that one has an opportunity of +examining the structure of the living. + +However, that rare chance was granted to Sir Austin. They were engaged +to dine with Mrs. Doria at the Foreys', and walked down to her in the +afternoon, father and son arm-in-arm, Adrian beside them. Previously the +offended father had condescended to inform his son that it would shortly +be time for him to return to his wife, indicating that arrangements would +ultimately be ordered to receive her at Raynham. Richard had replied +nothing; which might mean excess of gratitude, or hypocrisy in concealing +his pleasure, or any one of the thousand shifts by which gratified human +nature expresses itself when all is made to run smooth with it. Now Mrs. +Berry had her surprise ready charged for the young husband. She had Lucy +in her own house waiting for him. Every day she expected him to call and +be overcome by the rapturous surprise, and every day, knowing his habit +of frequenting the park, she marched Lucy thither, under the plea that +Master Richard, whom she had already christened, should have an airing. + +The round of the red winter sun was behind the bare Kensington chestnuts, +when these two parties met. Happily for Lucy and the hope she bore in +her bosom, she was perversely admiring a fair horsewoman galloping by at +the moment. Mrs. Berry plucked at her gown once or twice, to prepare her +eyes for the shock, but Lucy's head was still half averted, and thinks +Mrs. Berry, "Twon't hurt her if she go into his arms head foremost." +They were close; Mrs. Berry performed the bob preliminary. Richard held +her silent with a terrible face; he grasped her arm, and put her behind +him. Other people intervened. Lucy saw nothing to account for Berry's +excessive flutter. Berry threw it on the air and some breakfast bacon, +which, she said, she knew in the morning while she ate it, was bad for +the bile, and which probably was the cause of her bursting into tears, +much to Lucy's astonishment. + +"What you ate makes you cry, Mrs. Berry?" + +"It's all--" Mrs. Berry pressed at her heart and leaned sideways, "it's +all stomach, my dear. Don't ye mind," and becoming aware of her +unfashionable behaviour, she trailed off to the shelter of the elms. + +"You have a singular manner with old ladies," said Sir Austin to his son, +after Berry had been swept aside. + +Scarcely courteous. She behaved like a mad woman, certainly."--Are you +ill, my son?" + +Richard was death-pale, his strong form smitten through with weakness. +The baronet sought Adrian's eye. Adrian had seen Lucy as they passed, +and he had a glimpse of Richard's countenance while disposing of Berry. +Had Lucy recognized them, he would have gone to her unhesitatingly. As +she did not, he thought it well, under the circumstances, to leave +matters as they were. He answered the baronet's look with a shrug. + +"Are you ill, Richard?" Sir Austin again asked his son. + +"Come on, sir! come on!" cried Richard. + +His father's further meditations, as they stepped briskly to the Foreys', +gave poor ferry a character which one who lectures on matrimony, and has +kissed but three men in her life, shrieks to hear the very title of. + +"Richard will go to his wife to-morrow," Sir Austin said to Adrian some +time before they went in to dinner. + +Adrian asked him if he had chanced to see a young fair-haired lady by the +side of the old one Richard had treated so peculiarly; and to the +baronet's acknowledgment that he remembered to have observed such a +person, Adrian said: "That was his wife, sir." + +Sir Austin could not dissect the living subject. As if a bullet had torn +open the young man's skull, and some blast of battle laid his palpitating +organization bare, he watched every motion of his brain and his heart; +and with the grief and terror of one whose mental habit was ever to +pierce to extremes. Not altogether conscious that he had hitherto played +with life, he felt that he was suddenly plunged into the stormful reality +of it. He projected to speak plainly to his son on all points that +night. + +"Richard is very gay," Mrs. Doris, whispered her brother. + +"All will be right with him to-morrow," he replied; for the game had been +in his hands so long, so long had he been the God of the machine, that +having once resolved to speak plainly and to act, he was to a certain +extent secure, bad as the thing to mend might be. + +"I notice he has rather a wild laugh--I don't exactly like his eyes," +said Mrs. Doria. + +"You will see a change in him to-morrow," the man of science remarked. + +It was reserved for Mrs. Doria herself to experience that change. In the +middle of the dinner a telegraphic message from her son-in-law, worthy +John Todhunter, reached the house, stating that Clare was alarmingly ill, +bidding her come instantly. She cast about for some one to accompany +her, and fixed on Richard. Before he would give his consent for Richard +to go, Sir Austin desired to speak with him apart, and in that interview +he said to his son: "My dear Richard! it was my intention that we should +come to an understanding together this night. But the time is short-- +poor Helen cannot spare many minutes. Let me then say that you deceived +me, and that I forgive you. We fix our seal on the past. You will bring +your wife to me when you return." And very cheerfully the baronet looked +down on the generous future he thus founded. + +"Will you have her at Raynham at once, sir?" said Richard. + +"Yes, my son, when you bring her." + +"Are you mocking me, sir?" + +"Pray, what do you mean?" + +"I ask you to receive her at once." + +"Well! the delay cannot be long. I do not apprehend that you will be +kept from your happiness many days." + +"I think it will be some time, sir!" said Richard, sighing deeply. + +"And what mental freak is this that can induce you to postpone it and +play with your first duty?" + +"What is my first duty, sir?" + +"Since you are married, to be with your wife." + +"I have heard that from an old woman called Berry!" said Richard to +himself, not intending irony. + +"Will you receive her at once?" he asked resolutely. + +The baronet was clouded by his son's reception of his graciousness. His +grateful prospect had formerly been Richard's marriage--the culmination +of his System. Richard had destroyed his participation in that. He now +looked for a pretty scene in recompense:--Richard leading up his wife to +him, and both being welcomed by him paternally, and so held one +ostentatious minute in his embrace. + +He said: "Before you return, I demur to receiving her." + +"Very well, sir," replied his son, and stood as if he had spoken all. + +"Really you tempt me to fancy you already regret your rash proceeding!" +the baronet exclaimed; and the next moment it pained him he had uttered +the words, Richard's eyes were so sorrowfully fierce. It pained him, but +he divined in that look a history, and he could not refrain from glancing +acutely and asking: "Do you?" + +"Regret it, sir?" The question aroused one of those struggles in the +young man's breast which a passionate storm of tears may still, and which +sink like leaden death into the soul when tears come not. Richard's eyes +had the light of the desert. + +"Do you?" his father repeated. "You tempt me--I almost fear you do." At +the thought--for he expressed his mind--the pity that he had for Richard +was not pure gold. + +"Ask me what I think of her, sir! Ask me what she is! Ask me what it is +to have taken one of God's precious angels and chained her to misery! +Ask me what it is to have plunged a sword into her heart, and to stand +over her and see such a creature bleeding! Do I regret that? Why, yes, +I do! Would you?" + +His eyes flew hard at his father under the ridge of his eyebrows. + +Sir Austin winced and reddened. Did he understand? There is ever in the +mind's eye a certain wilfulness. We see and understand; we see and won't +understand. + +"Tell me why you passed by her as you did this afternoon," he said +gravely: and in the same voice Richard answered: "I passed her because I +could not do otherwise." + +"Your wife, Richard?" + +"Yes! my wife!" + +"If she had seen you, Richard?" + +"God spared her that!" + +Mrs. Doria, bustling in practical haste, and bearing Richard's hat and +greatcoat in her energetic hands, came between them at this juncture. +Dimples of commiseration were in her cheeks while she kissed her +brother's perplexed forehead. She forgot her trouble about Clare, +deploring his fatuity. + +Sir Austin was forced to let his son depart. As of old, he took counsel +with Adrian, and the wise youth was soothing. "Somebody has kissed him, +sir, and the chaste boy can't get over it." This absurd suggestion did +more to appease the baronet than if Adrian had given a veritable +reasonable key to Richard's conduct. It set him thinking that it might +be a prudish strain in the young man's mind, due to the System in +difficulties. + +"I may have been wrong in one thing," he said, with an air of the utmost +doubt of it. "I, perhaps, was wrong in allowing him so much liberty +during his probation." + +Adrian pointed out to him that he had distinctly commanded it. + +"Yes, yes; that is on me." + +His was an order of mind that would accept the most burdensome charges, +and by some species of moral usury make a profit out of them. + +Clare was little talked of. Adrian attributed the employment of the +telegraph to John Todhunter's uxorious distress at a toothache, or +possibly the first symptoms of an heir to his house. + +"That child's mind has disease in it... She is not sound," said the +baronet. + +On the door-step of the hotel, when they returned, stood Mrs. Berry. Her +wish to speak a few words with the baronet reverentially communicated, +she was ushered upstairs into his room. + +Mrs. Berry compressed her person in the chair she was beckoned to occupy. + +"Well' ma'am, you have something to say," observed the baronet, for she +seemed loth to commence. + +"Wishin' I hadn't--" Mrs. Berry took him up, and mindful of the good rule +to begin at the beginning, pursued: "I dare say, Sir Austin, you don't +remember me, and I little thought when last we parted our meeting 'd be +like this. Twenty year don't go over one without showin' it, no more +than twenty ox. It's a might o' time,--twenty year! Leastways not quite +twenty, it ain't." + +"Round figures are best," Adrian remarked. + +"In them round figures a be-loved son have growed up, and got himself +married!" said Mrs. Berry, diving straight into the case. + +Sir Austin then learnt that he had before him the culprit who had +assisted his son in that venture. It was a stretch of his patience to +hear himself addressed on a family matter; but he was naturally +courteous. + +"He came to my house, Sir Austin, a stranger! If twenty year alters us +as have knowed each other on the earth, how must they alter they that we +parted with just come from heaven! And a heavenly babe he were! so +sweet! so strong! so fat!" + +Adrian laughed aloud. + +Mrs. Berry bumped a curtsey to him in her chair, continuing: "I wished +afore I spoke to say how thankful am I bound to be for my pension not cut +short, as have offended so, but that I know Sir Austin Feverel, Raynham +Abbey, ain't one o' them that likes to hear their good deeds pumlished. +And a pension to me now, it's something more than it were. For a pension +and pretty rosy cheeks in a maid, which I was--that's a bait many a +man'll bite, that won't so a forsaken wife!" + +"If you will speak to the point, ma'am, I will listen to you," the +baronet interrupted her. + +"It's the beginnin' that's the worst, and that's over, thank the Lord! +So I'll speak, Sir Austin, and say my say:--Lord speed me! Believin' our +idees o' matrimony to be sim'lar, then, I'll say, once married--married +for life! Yes! I don't even like widows. For I can't stop at the +grave. Not at the tomb I can't stop. My husband's my husband, and if +I'm a body at the Resurrection, I say, speaking humbly, my Berry is the +husband o' my body; and to think of two claimin' of me then--it makes me +hot all over. Such is my notion of that state 'tween man and woman. No +givin' in marriage, o' course I know; and if so I'm single." + +The baronet suppressed a smile. "Really, my good woman, you wander very +much." + +"Beggin' pardon, Sir Austin; but I has my point before me all the same, +and I'm comin' to it. Ac-knowledgin' our error, it'd done, and bein' +done, it's writ aloft. Oh! if you ony knew what a sweet young creature +she be! Indeed; 'taint all of humble birth that's unworthy, Sir Austin. +And she got her idees, too: She reads History! She talk that sensible as +would surprise ye. But for all that she's a prey to the artful o' men-- +unpertected. And it's a young marriage--but there's no fear for her, as +far as she go. The fear's t'other way. There's that in a man--at the +commencement--which make of him Lord knows what if you any way +interferes: whereas a woman bides quiet! It's consolation catch her, +which is what we mean by seduein'. Whereas a man--he's a savage!" + +Sir Austin turned his face to Adrian, who was listening with huge +delight. + +"Well, ma'am, I see you have something in your mind, if you would only +come to it quickly." + +"Then here's my point, Sir Austin. I say you bred him so as there ain't +another young gentleman like him in England, and proud he make me. And +as for her, I'll risk sayin'--it's done, and no harm--you might search +England through, and nowhere will ye find a maid that's his match like +his own wife. Then there they be. Are they together as should be? O +Lord no! Months they been divided. Then she all lonely and exposed, I +went, and fetched her out of seducers' ways--which they may say what they +like, but the inn'cent is most open to when they're healthy and +confidin'--I fetch her, and--the liberty--boxed her safe in my own house. +So much for that sweet! That you may do with women. But it's him--Mr. +Richard--I am bold, I know, but there--I'm in for it, and the Lord'll +help me! It's him, Sir Austin, in this great metropolis, warm from a +young marriage. It's him, and--I say nothin' of her, and how sweet she +bears it, and it's eating her at a time when Natur' should have no other +trouble but the one that's goin' on it's him, and I ask--so bold--shall +there--and a Christian gentlemen his father--shall there be a tug 'tween +him as a son and him as a husband--soon to be somethin' else? I speak +bold out--I'd have sons obey their fathers, but a priest's words spoke +over them, which they're now in my ears, I say I ain't a doubt on earth-- +I'm sure there ain't one in heaven--which dooty's the holier of the two." + +Sir Austin heard her to an end. Their views on the junction of the sexes +were undoubtedly akin. To be lectured on his prime subject, however, was +slightly disagreeable, and to be obliged mentally to assent to this old +lady's doctrine was rather humiliating, when it could not be averred that +he had latterly followed it out. He sat cross-legged and silent, a +finger to his temple. + +"One gets so addle-gated thinkin' many things," said Mrs. Berry, simply. +"That's why we see wonder clever people goin' wrong--to my mind. I think +it's al'ays the plan in a dielemmer to pray God and walk forward." + +The keen-witted soft woman was tracking the baronet's thoughts, and she +had absolutely run him down and taken an explanation out of his mouth, by +which Mrs. Berry was to have been informed that he had acted from a +principle of his own, and devolved a wisdom she could not be expected to +comprehend. + +Of course he became advised immediately that it would be waste of time to +direct such an explanation to her inferior capacity. + +He gave her his hand, saying, "My son has gone out of town to see his +cousin, who is ill. He will return in two or three days, and then they +will both come to me at Raynham." + +Mrs. Berry took the tips of his fingers, and went half-way to the floor +perpendicularly. "He pass her like a stranger in the park this evenin'," +she faltered. + +"Ah?" said the baronet. "Yes, well! they will be at Raynham before the +week is over." + +Mrs. Berry was not quite satisfied. "Not of his own accord he pass that +sweet young wife of his like a stranger this day, Sir Austin!" + +"I must beg you not to intrude further, ma'am." + +Mrs. Berry bobbed her bunch of a body out of the room. + +"All's well that ends well," she said to herself. "It's just bad +inquirin' too close among men. We must take 'em somethin' like +Providence--as they come. Thank heaven! I kep' back the baby." + +In Mrs. Berry's eyes the baby was the victorious reserve. + +Adrian asked his chief what he thought of that specimen of woman. + +"I think I have not met a better in my life," said the baronet, mingling +praise and sarcasm. + +Clare lies in her bed as placid as in the days when she breathed; her +white hands stretched their length along the sheets, at peace from head +to feet. She needs iron no more. Richard is face to face with death for +the first time. He sees the sculpture of clay--the spark gone. + +Clare gave her mother the welcome of the dead. This child would have +spoken nothing but kind commonplaces had she been alive. She was dead, +and none knew her malady. On her fourth finger were two wedding-rings. + +When hours of weeping had silenced the mother's anguish, she, for some +comfort she saw in it, pointed out that strange thing to Richard, +speaking low in the chamber of the dead; and then he learnt that it was +his own lost ring Clare wore in the two worlds. He learnt from her +husband that Clare's last request had been that neither of the rings +should be removed. She had written it; she would not speak it. + +"I beg of my husband, and all kind people who may have the care of me +between this and the grave, to bury me with my hands untouched." + +The tracing of the words showed the bodily torment she was suffering, as +she wrote them on a scrap of paper found beside her pillow. + +In wonder, as the dim idea grew from the waving of Clare's dead hand, +Richard paced the house, and hung about the awful room; dreading to enter +it, reluctant to quit it. The secret Clare had buried while she lived, +arose with her death. He saw it play like flame across her marble +features. The memory of her voice was like a knife at his nerves. His +coldness to her started up accusingly: her meekness was bitter blame. + +On the evening of the fourth day, her mother came to him in his bedroom, +with a face so white that he asked himself if aught worse could happen to +a mother than the loss of her child. Choking she said to him, "Read +this," and thrust a leather-bound pocket-book trembling in his hand. She +would not breathe to him what it was. She entreated him not to open it +before her. + +"Tell me," she said, "tell me what you think. John must not hear of it. +I have nobody to consult but you O Richard!" + +"My Diary" was written in the round hand of Clare's childhood on the +first page. The first name his eye encountered was his own. + +"Richard's fourteenth birthday. I have worked him a purse and put it +under his pillow, because he is going to have plenty of money. He does +not notice me now because he has a friend now, and he is ugly, but +Richard is not, and never will be." + +The occurrences of that day were subsequently recorded, and a childish +prayer to God for him set down. Step by step he saw her growing mind in +his history. As she advanced in years she began to look back, and made +much of little trivial remembrances, all bearing upon him. + +"We went into the fields and gathered cowslips together, and pelted each +other, and I told him he used to call them 'coals-sleeps' when he was a +baby, and he was angry at my telling him, for he does not like to be told +he was ever a baby." + +He remembered the incident, and remembered his stupid scorn of her meek +affection. Little Clare! how she lived before him in her white dress and +pink ribbons, and soft dark eyes! Upstairs she was lying dead. He read +on: + +"Mama says there is no one in the world like Richard, and I am sure there +is not, not in the whole world. He says he is going to be a great +General and going to the wars. If he does I shall dress myself as a boy +and go after him, and he will not know me till I am wounded. Oh I pray +he will never, never be wounded. I wonder what I should feel if Richard +was ever to die." + +Upstairs Clare was lying dead. + +"Lady Blandish said there was a likeness between Richard and me. Richard +said I hope I do not hang down my head as she does. He is angry with me +because I do not look people in the face and speak out, but I know I am +not looking after earthworms." + +Yes. He had told her that. A shiver seized him at the recollection. + +Then it came to a period when the words: "Richard kissed me," stood by +themselves, and marked a day in her life. + +Afterwards it was solemnly discovered that Richard wrote poetry. He read +one of his old forgotten compositions penned when he had that ambition. + + "Thy truth to me is truer + Than horse, or dog, or blade; + Thy vows to me are fewer + Than ever maiden made. + + Thou steppest from thy splendour + To make my life a song: + My bosom shall be tender + As thine has risen strong." + +All the verses were transcribed. "It is he who is the humble knight," +Clare explained at the close, "and his lady, is a Queen. Any Queen would +throw her crown away for him." + +It came to that period when Clare left Raynham with her mother. + +"Richard was not sorry to lose me. He only loves boys and men. +Something tells me I shall never see Raynham again. He was dressed in +blue. He said Good-bye, Clare, and kissed me on the cheek. Richard +never kisses me on the mouth. He did not know I went to his bed and +kissed him while he was asleep. He sleeps with one arm under his head, +and the other out on the bed. I moved away a bit of his hair that was +over his eyes. I wanted to cut it. I have one piece. I do not let +anybody see I am unhappy, not even mama. She says I want iron. I am +sure I do not. I like to write my name. Clare Doria Forey. Richard's +is Richard Doria Feverel." + +His breast rose convulsively. Clare Doria Forey! He knew the music of +that name. He had heard it somewhere. It sounded faint and mellow now +behind the hills of death. + +He could not read for tears. It was midnight. The hour seemed to belong +to her. The awful stillness and the darkness were Clare's. Clare's +voice clear and cold from the grave possessed it. + +Painfully, with blinded eyes, he looked over the breathless pages. She +spoke of his marriage, and her finding the ring. + +"I knew it was his. I knew he was going to be married that morning. I +saw him stand by the altar when they laughed at breakfast. His wife must +be so beautiful! Richard's wife! Perhaps he will love me better now he +is married. Mama says they must be separated. That is shameful. If I +can help him I will. I pray so that he may be happy. I hope God hears +poor sinners' prayers. I am very sinful. Nobody knows it as I do. They +say I am good, but I know. When I look on the ground I am not looking +after earthworms, as he said. Oh, do forgive me, God!" + +Then she spoke of her own marriage, and that it was her duty to obey her +mother. A blank in the Diary ensued. + +"I have seen Richard. Richard despises me," was the next entry. + +But now as he read his eyes were fixed, and the delicate feminine +handwriting like a black thread drew on his soul to one terrible +conclusion. + +"I cannot live. Richard despises me. I cannot bear the touch of my +fingers or the sight of my face. Oh! I understand him now. He should +not have kissed me so that last time. I wished to die while his mouth +was on mine." + +Further: "I have no escape. Richard said he would die rather than endure +it. I know he would. Why should I be afraid to do what he would do? I +think if my husband whipped me I could bear it better. He is so kind, +and tries to make me cheerful. He will soon be very unhappy. I pray to +God half the night. I seem to be losing sight of my God the more I +pray." + +Richard laid the book open on the table. Phantom surges seemed to be +mounting and travelling for his brain. Had Clare taken his wild words in +earnest? Did she lie there dead--he shrouded the thought. + +He wrapped the thoughts in shrouds, but he was again reading. + +"A quarter to one o'clock. I shall not be alive this time to-morrow. I +shall never see Richard now. I dreamed last night we were in the fields +together, and he walked with his arm round my waist. We were children, +but I thought we were married, and I showed him I wore his ring, and he +said--if you always wear it, Clare, you are as good as my wife. Then I +made a vow to wear it for ever and ever... "It is not mama's fault. She +does not think as Richard and I do of these things. He is not a coward, +nor am I. He hates cowards. + +"I have written to his father to make him happy. Perhaps when I am dead +he will hear what I say. + +"I heard just now Richard call distinctly--Clare, come out to me. Surely +he has not gone. I am going I know not where. I cannot think. I am +very cold." + +The words were written larger, and staggered towards the close, as if her +hand had lost mastery over the pen. + +"I can only remember Richard now a boy. A little boy and a big boy. I +am not sure now of his voice. I can only remember certain words. +'Clari,' and 'Don Ricardo,' and his laugh. He used to be full of fun. +Once we laughed all day together tumbling in the hay. Then he had a +friend, and began to write poetry, and be proud. If I had married a +young man he would have forgiven me, but I should not have been happier. +I must have died. God never looks on me. + +"It is past two o'clock. The sheep are bleating outside. It must be +very cold in the ground. Good-bye, Richard." + +With his name it began and ended. Even to herself Clare was not over- +communicative. The book was slender, yet her nineteen years of existence +left half the number of pages white. + +Those last words drew him irresistibly to gaze on her. There she lay, +the same impassive Clare. For a moment he wondered she had not moved--to +him she had become so different. She who had just filled his ears with +strange tidings--it was not possible to think her dead! She seemed to +have been speaking to him all through his life. His image was on that +still heart. + +He dismissed the night-watchers from the room, and remained with her +alone, till the sense of death oppressed him, and then the shock sent him +to the window to look for sky and stars. Behind a low broad pine, hung +with frosty mist, he heard a bell-wether of the flock in the silent fold. +Death in life it sounded. + +The mother found him praying at the foot of Clare's bed. She knelt by +his side, and they prayed, and their joint sobs shook their bodies, but +neither of them shed many tears. They held a dark unspoken secret in +common. They prayed God to forgive her. + +Clare was buried in the family vault of the Todhunters. Her mother +breathed no wish to have her lying at Lobourne. + +After the funeral, what they alone upon earth knew brought them together. + +"Richard," she said, "the worst is over for me. I have no one to love +but you, dear. We have all been fighting against God, and this... +Richard! you will come with me, and be united to your wife, and spare my +brother what I suffer." + +He answered the broken spirit: "I have killed one. She sees me as I am. +I cannot go with you to my wife, because I am not worthy to touch her +hand, and were I to go, I should do this to silence my self-contempt. Go +you to her, and when she asks of me, say I have a death upon my head +that--No! say that I am abroad, seeking for that which shall cleanse +me. If I find it I shall come to claim her. If not, God help us all!" + +She had no strength to contest his solemn words, or stay him, and he went +forth. + + + + +CHAPTER XLI + + +A man with a beard saluted the wise youth Adrian in the full blaze of +Piccadilly with a clap on the shoulder. Adrian glanced leisurely behind. + +"Do you want to try my nerves, my dear fellow? I'm not a man of fashion, +happily, or you would have struck the seat of them. How are you?" + +That was his welcome to Austin Wentworth after his long absence. + +Austin took his arm, and asked for news, with the hunger of one who had +been in the wilderness five years. + +"The Whigs have given up the ghost, my dear Austin. The free Briton is +to receive Liberty's pearl, the Ballot. The Aristocracy has had a +cycle's notice to quit. The Monarchy and old Madeira are going out; +Demos and Cape wines are coming in. They call it Reform. So, you see, +your absence has worked wonders. Depart for another five years, and you +will return to ruined stomachs, cracked sconces, general upset, an +equality made perfect by universal prostration." + +Austin indulged him in a laugh. "I want to hear about ourselves. How is +old Ricky?" + +"You know of his--what do they call it when greenhorns are licensed to +jump into the milkpails of dairymaids?--a very charming little woman she +makes, by the way--presentable! quite old Anacreon's rose in milk. Well! +everybody thought the System must die of it. Not a bit. It continued to +flourish in spite. It's in a consumption now, though--emaciated, lean, +raw, spectral! I've this morning escaped from Raynham to avoid the sight +of it. I have brought our genial uncle Hippias to town--a delightful +companion! I said to him: 'We've had a fine Spring.' 'Ugh!' he answers, +'there's a time when you come to think the Spring old.' You should have +heard how he trained out the 'old.' I felt something like decay in my sap +just to hear him. In the prize-fight of life, my dear Austin, our uncle +Hippias has been unfairly hit below the belt. Let's guard ourselves +there, and go and order dinner." + +"But where's Ricky now, and what is he doing?" said Austin. + +"Ask what he has done. The miraculous boy has gone and got a baby!" + +"A child? Richard has one?" Austin's clear eyes shone with pleasure. + +"I suppose it's not common among your tropical savages. He has one: one +as big as two. That has been the death-blow to the System. It bore the +marriage--the baby was too much for it. Could it swallow the baby, +'twould live. She, the wonderful woman, has produced a large boy. I +assure you it's quite amusing to see the System opening its mouth every +hour of the day, trying to gulp him down, aware that it would be a +consummate cure, or a happy release." + +By degrees Austin learnt the baronet's proceedings, and smiled sadly. + +"How has Ricky turned out?" he asked. "What sort of a character has he?" + +"The poor boy is ruined by his excessive anxiety about it. Character? he +has the character of a bullet with a treble charge of powder behind it. +Enthusiasm is the powder. That boy could get up an enthusiasm for the +maiden days of Ops! He was going to reform the world, after your +fashion, Austin,--you have something to answer for. Unfortunately he +began with the feminine side of it. Cupid proud of Phoebus newly slain, +or Pluto wishing to people his kingdom, if you like, put it into the soft +head of one of the guileless grateful creatures to kiss him for his good +work. Oh, horror! he never expected that. Conceive the System in the +flesh, and you have our Richard. The consequence is, that this male Peri +refuses to enter his Paradise, though the gates are open for him, the +trumpets blow, and the fair unspotted one awaits him fruitful within. We +heard of him last that he was trying the German waters--preparatory to +his undertaking the release of Italy from the subjugation of the Teuton. +Let's hope they'll wash him. He is in the company of Lady Judith Felle-- +your old friend, the ardent female Radical who married the decrepit to +carry out her principles. They always marry English lords, or foreign +princes: I admire their tactics." + +"Judith is bad for him in such a state. I like her, but she was always +too sentimental," said Austin. + +"Sentiment made her marry the old lord, I suppose? I like her for her +sentiment, Austin. Sentimental people are sure to live long and die fat. +Feeling, that's the slayer, coz. Sentiment! 'tis the cajolery of +existence: the soft bloom which whoso weareth, he or she is enviable. +Would that I had more!" + +"You're not much changed, Adrian." + +"I'm not a Radical, Austin." + +Further inquiries, responded to in Adrian's figurative speech, instructed +Austin that the baronet was waiting for his son, in a posture of +statuesque offended paternity, before he would receive his daughter-in- +law and grandson. That was what Adrian meant by the efforts of the +System to swallow the baby. + +"We're in a tangle," said the wise youth. "Time will extricate us, I +presume, or what is the venerable signor good for?" + +Austin mused some minutes, and asked for Lucy's place of residence. + +"We'll go to her by and by," said Adrian. + +"I shall go and see her now," said Austin. + +"Well, we'll go and order the dinner first, coz." + +"Give me her address." + +"Really, Austin, you carry matters with too long a beard," Adrian +objected. "Don't you care what you eat?" he roared hoarsely, looking +humorously hurt. "I daresay not. A slice out of him that's handy--sauce +du ciel! Go, batten on the baby, cannibal. Dinner at seven." + +Adrian gave him his own address, and Lucy's, and strolled off to do the +better thing. + +Overnight Mrs. Berry had observed a long stranger in her tea-cup. +Posting him on her fingers and starting him with a smack, he had vaulted +lightly and thereby indicated that he was positively coming the next day. +She forgot him in the bustle of her duties and the absorption of her +faculties in thoughts of the incomparable stranger Lucy had presented to +the world, till a knock at the street-door reminded her. "There he is!" +she cried, as she ran to open to him. "There's my stranger come!" Never +was a woman's faith in omens so justified. The stranger desired to see +Mrs. Richard Feverel. He said his name was Mr. Austin Wentworth. Mrs. +Berry clasped her hands, exclaiming, "Come at last!" and ran bolt out of +the house to look up and down the street. Presently she returned with +many excuses for her rudeness, saying: "I expected to see her comin' +home, Mr. Wentworth. Every day twice a day she go out to give her +blessed angel an airing. No leavin' the child with nursemaids for her! +She is a mother! and good milk, too, thank the Lord! though her heart's +so low." + +Indoors Mrs. Berry stated who she was, related the history of the young +couple and her participation in it, and admired the beard. "Although I'd +swear you don't wear it for ornament, now!" she said, having in the first +impulse designed a stroke at man's vanity. + +Ultimately Mrs. Berry spoke of the family complication, and with dejected +head and joined hands threw out dark hints about Richard. + +While Austin was giving his cheerfuller views of the case, Lucy came in +preceding the baby. + +"I am Austin Wentworth," he said, taking her hand. They read each +other's faces, these two, and smiled kinship. + +"Your name is Lucy?" + +She affirmed it softly. + +"And mine is Austin, as you know." + +Mrs. Berry allowed time for Lucy's charms to subdue him, and presented +Richard's representative, who, seeing a new face, suffered himself to be +contemplated before he commenced crying aloud and knocking at the doors +of Nature for something that was due to him. + +"Ain't he a lusty darlin'?" says Mrs. Berry. "Ain't he like his own +father? There can't be no doubt about zoo, zoo pitty pet. Look at his +fists. Ain't he got passion? Ain't he a splendid roarer? Oh!" and she +went off rapturously into baby-language. + +A fine boy, certainly. Mrs. Berry exhibited his legs for further proof, +desiring Austin's confirmation as to their being dumplings. + +Lucy murmured a word of excuse, and bore the splendid roarer out of the +room. + +"She might a done it here," said Mrs. Berry. "There's no prettier sight, +I say. If her dear husband could but see that! He's off in his heroics- +-he want to be doin' all sorts o' things: I say he'll never do anything +grander than that baby. You should 'a seen her uncle over that baby--he +came here, for I said, you shall see your own family, my dear, and so she +thinks. He come, and he laughed over that baby in the joy of his heart, +poor man! he cried, he did. You should see that Mr. Thompson, Mr. +Wentworth--a friend o' Mr. Richard's, and a very modest-minded young +gentleman--he worships her in his innocence. It's a sight to see him +with that baby. My belief is he's unhappy 'cause he can't anyways be +nurse-maid to him. O Mr. Wentworth! what do you think of her, sir?" + +Austin's reply was as satisfactory as a man's poor speech could make it. +He heard that Lady Feverel was in the house, and Mrs. Berry prepared the +way for him to pay his respects to her. Then Mrs. Berry ran to Lucy, and +the house buzzed with new life. The simple creatures felt in Austin's +presence something good among them. "He don't speak much," said Mrs. +Berry, "but I see by his eye he mean a deal. He ain't one o' yer long- +word gentry, who's all gay deceivers, every one of 'em." + +Lucy pressed the hearty suckling into her breast. "I wonder what he +thinks of me, Mrs. Berry? I could not speak to him. I loved him before +I saw him. I knew what his face was like." + +"He looks proper even with a beard, and that's a trial for a virtuous +man," said Mrs. Berry. "One sees straight through the hair with him. +Think! he'll think what any man'd think--you a-suckin spite o' all your +sorrow, my sweet,--and my Berry talkin' of his Roman matrons!--here's a +English wife'll match 'em all! that's what he thinks. And now that +leetle dark under yer eye'll clear, my darlin', now he've come." + +Mrs. Berry looked to no more than that; Lucy to no more than the peace +she had in being near Richard's best friend. When she sat down to tea it +was with a sense that the little room that held her was her home perhaps +for many a day. + +A chop procured and cooked by Mrs. Berry formed Austin's dinner. During +the meal he entertained them with anecdotes of his travels. Poor Lucy +had no temptation to try to conquer Austin. That heroic weakness of hers +was gone. + +Mrs. Berry had said: "Three cups--I goes no further," and Lucy had +rejected the proffer of more tea, when Austin, who was in the thick of a +Brazilian forest, asked her if she was a good traveller. + +"I mean, can you start at a minute's notice?" + +Lucy hesitated, and then said; "Yes," decisively, to which Mrs. Berry +added, that she was not a "luggage-woman" + +"There used to be a train at seven o'clock," Austin remarked, consulting +his watch. + +The two women were silent. + +"Could you get ready to come with me to Raynham in ten minutes?" + +Austin looked as if he had asked a commonplace question. + +Lucy's lips parted to speak. She could not answer. + +Loud rattled the teaboard to Mrs. Berry's dropping hands. + +"Joy and deliverance!" she exclaimed with a foundering voice. + +"Will you come?" Austin kindly asked again. + +Lucy tried to stop her beating heart, as she answered, "Yes." Mrs. Berry +cunningly pretended to interpret the irresolution in her tones with a +mighty whisper: "She's thinking what's to be done with baby." + +"He must learn to travel," said Austin. + +"Oh!" cried Mrs. Berry, "and I'll be his nuss, and bear him, a sweet! +Oh! and think of it! me nurse-maid once more at Raynham Abbey! but it's +nurse-woman now, you must say. Let us be goin' on the spot." + +She started up and away in hot haste, fearing delay would cool the +heaven-sent resolve. Austin smiled, eying his watch and Lucy +alternately. She was wishing to ask a multitude of questions. His face +reassured her, and saying: "I will be dressed instantly," she also left +the room. Talking, bustling, preparing, wrapping up my lord, and looking +to their neatnesses, they were nevertheless ready within the time +prescribed by Austin, and Mrs. Berry stood humming over the baby. "He'll +sleep it through," she said. "He's had enough for an alderman, and goes +to sleep sound after his dinner, he do, a duck!" Before they departed, +Lucy ran up to Lady Feverel. She returned for, the small one. + +"One moment, Mr. Wentworth?" + +"Just two," said Austin. + +Master Richard was taken up, and when Lucy came back her eyes were full +of tears. + +"She thinks she is never to see him again, Mr. Wentworth." + +"She shall," Austin said simply. + +Off they went, and with Austin near her, Lucy forgot to dwell at all upon +the great act of courage she was performing. + +"I do hope baby will not wake," was her chief solicitude. + +"He!" cries nurse-woman Berry, from the rear, "his little tum-tum's as +tight as he can hold, a pet! a lamb! a bird! a beauty! and ye may take +yer oath he never wakes till that's slack. He've got character of his +own, a blessed!" + +There are some tremendous citadels that only want to be taken by storm. +The baronet sat alone in his library, sick of resistance, and rejoicing +in the pride of no surrender; a terror to his friends and to himself. +Hearing Austin's name sonorously pronounced by the man of calves, he +looked up from his book, and held out his hand. "Glad to see you, +Austin." His appearance betokened complete security. The next minute he +found himself escaladed. + +It was a cry from Mrs. Berry that told him others were in the room +besides Austin. Lucy stood a little behind the lamp: Mrs. Berry close to +the door. The door was half open, and passing through it might be seen +the petrified figure of a fine man. The baronet glancing over the lamp +rose at Mrs. Berry's signification of a woman's personality. Austin +stepped back and led Lucy to him by the hand. "I have brought Richard's +wife, sir," he said with a pleased, perfectly uncalculating, countenance, +that was disarming. Very pale and trembling Lucy bowed. She felt her +two hands taken, and heard a kind voice. Could it be possible it +belonged to the dreadful father of her husband? She lifted her eyes +nervously: her hands were still detained. The baronet contemplated +Richard's choice. Had he ever had a rivalry with those pure eyes? He +saw the pain of her position shooting across her brows, and, uttering- +gentle inquiries as to her health, placed her in a seat. Mrs. Berry had +already fallen into a chair. + +"What aspect do you like for your bedroom?--East?" said the baronet. + +Lucy was asking herself wonderingly: "Am I to stay?" + +"Perhaps you had better take to Richard's room at once," he pursued. +"You have the Lobourne valley there and a good morning air, and will feel +more at home." + +Lucy's colour mounted. Mrs. Berry gave a short cough, as one who should +say, "The day is ours!" Undoubtedly--strange as it was to think it--the +fortress was carried. + +"Lucy is rather tired," said Austin, and to hear her Christian name thus +bravely spoken brought grateful dew to her eyes. + +The baronet was about to touch the bell. "But have you come alone?" he +asked. + +At this Mrs. Berry came forward. Not immediately: it seemed to require +effort for her to move, and when she was within the region of the lamp, +her agitation could not escape notice. The blissful bundle shook in her +arms. + +"By the way, what is he to me?" Austin inquired generally as he went and +unveiled the younger hope of Raynham. "My relationship is not so defined +as yours, sir." + +An observer might have supposed that the baronet peeped at his grandson +with the courteous indifference of one who merely wished to compliment +the mother of anybody's child. + +"I really think he's like Richard," Austin laughed. Lucy looked: I am +sure he is! + +"As like as one to one," Mrs. Berry murmured feebly; but Grandpapa not +speaking she thought it incumbent on her to pluck up. "And he's as +healthy as his father was, Sir Austin--spite o' the might 'a beens. +Reg'lar as the clock! We never want a clock since he come. We knows the +hour o' the day, and of the night." + +"You nurse him yourself, of course?" the baronet spoke to Lucy, and was +satisfied on that point. + +Mrs. Berry was going to display his prodigious legs. Lucy, fearing the +consequent effect on the prodigious lungs, begged her not to wake him. +"'T'd take a deal to do that," said Mrs. Berry, and harped on Master +Richard's health and the small wonder it was that he enjoyed it, +considering the superior quality of his diet, and the lavish attentions +of his mother, and then suddenly fell silent on a deep sigh. + +"He looks healthy," said the baronet, "but I am not a judge of babies." + +Thus, having capitulated, Raynham chose to acknowledge its new +commandant, who was now borne away, under the directions of the +housekeeper, to occupy the room Richard had slept in when an infant. + +Austin cast no thought on his success. The baronet said: "She is +extremely well-looking." He replied: "A person you take to at once." +There it ended. + +But a much more animated colloquy was taking place aloft, where Lucy and +Mrs. Berry sat alone. Lucy expected her to talk about the reception they +had met with, and the house, and the peculiarities of the rooms, and the +solid happiness that seemed in store. Mrs. Berry all the while would +persist in consulting the looking-glass. Her first distinct answer was, +"My dear! tell me candid, how do I look?" + +"Very nice indeed, Mrs. Berry; but could you have believed he would be so +kind, so considerate?" + +"I am sure I looked a frump," returned Mrs. Berry. "Oh dear! two birds +at a shot. What do you think, now?" + +"I never saw so wonderful a likeness," says Lucy. + +"Likeness! look at me." Mrs. Berry was trembling and hot in the palms. + +"You're very feverish, dear Berry. What can it be?" + +"Ain't it like the love-flutters of a young gal, my dear." + +"Go to bed, Berry, dear," says Lucy, pouting in her soft caressing way. +"I will undress you, and see to you, dear heart! You've had so much +excitement." + +"Ha! ha!" Berry laughed hysterically; "she thinks it's about this +business of hers. Why, it's child's-play, my darlin'. But I didn't look +for tragedy to-night. Sleep in this house I can't, my love!" + +Lucy was astonished. "Not sleep here, Mrs. Berry?--Oh! why, you silly +old thing? I know." + +"Do ye!" said Mrs. Berry, with a sceptical nose. + +"You're afraid of ghosts." + +"Belike I am when they're six foot two in their shoes, and bellows when +you stick a pin into their calves. I seen my Berry!" + +"Your husband?" + +"Large as life!" + +Lucy meditated on optical delusions, but Mrs. Berry described him as the +Colossus who had marched them into the library, and vowed that he had +recognized her and quaked. "Time ain't aged him," said Mrs. Berry, +"whereas me! he've got his excuse now. I know I look a frump." + +Lucy kissed her: "You look the nicest, dearest old thing." + +"You may say an old thing, my dear." + +"And your husband is really here?" + +"Berry's below!" + +Profoundly uttered as this was, it chased every vestige of incredulity. + +"What will you do, Mrs. Berry?" + +"Go, my dear. Leave him to be happy in his own way. It's over atween +us, I see that. When I entered the house I felt there was something +comin' over me, and lo and behold ye! no sooner was we in the hall- +passage--if it hadn't been for that blessed infant I should 'a dropped. +I must 'a known his step, for my heart began thumpin', and I knew I +hadn't got my hair straight--that Mr. Wentworth was in such a hurry--nor +my best gown. I knew he'd scorn me. He hates frumps." + +"Scorn you!" cried Lucy, angrily. "He who has behaved so wickedly!" + +Mrs. Berry attempted to rise. "I may as well go at once," she whimpered. +"If I see him I shall only be disgracin' of myself. I feel it all on my +side already. Did ye mark him, my dear? I know I was vexin' to him at +times, I was. Those big men are so touchy about their dignity--nat'ral. +Hark at me! I'm goin' all soft in a minute. Let me leave the house, my +dear. I daresay it was good half my fault. Young women don't understand +men sufficient--not altogether--and I was a young woman then; and then +what they goes and does they ain't quite answerable for: they, feels, I +daresay, pushed from behind. Yes. I'll go. I'm a frump. I'll go. +'Tain't in natur' for me to sleep in the same house." + +Lucy laid her hands on Mrs. Berry's shoulders, and forcibly fixed her in +her seat. "Leave baby, naughty woman? I tell you he shall come to you, +and fall on his knees to you and beg your forgiveness." + +"Berry on his knees!" + +"Yes. And he shall beg and pray you to forgive him." + +"If you get more from Martin Berry than breath-away words, great'll be my +wonder!" said Mrs. Berry. + +"We will see," said Lucy, thoroughly determined to do something for the +good creature that had befriended her. + +Mrs. Berry examined her gown. "Won't it seem we're runnin' after him?" +she murmured faintly. + +"He is your husband, Mrs. Berry. He may be wanting to come to you now." + +"Oh! Where is all I was goin' to say to that man when we met." Mrs. +Berry ejaculated. Lucy had left the room. + +On the landing outside the door Lucy met a lady dressed in black, who +stopped her and asked if she was Richard's wife, and kissed her, passing +from her immediately. Lucy despatched a message for Austin, and related +the Berry history. Austin sent for the great man and said: "Do you know +your wife is here?" Before Berry had time to draw himself up to +enunciate his longest, he was requested to step upstairs, and as his +young mistress at once led the way, Berry could not refuse to put his +legs in motion and carry the stately edifice aloft. + +Of the interview Mrs. Berry gave Lucy a slight sketch that night. "He +began in the old way, my dear, and says I, a true heart and plain words, +Martin Berry. So there he cuts himself and his Johnson short, and down +he goes--down on his knees. I never could 'a believed it. I kep my +dignity as a woman till I see that sight, but that done for me. I was a +ripe apple in his arms 'fore I knew where I was. There's something about +a fine man on his knees that's too much for us women. And it reely was +the penitent on his two knees, not the lover on his one. If he mean it! +But ah! what do you think he begs of me, my dear?.--not to make it known +in the house just yet! I can't, I can't say that look well." + +Lucy attributed it to his sense of shame at his conduct, and Mrs. Berry +did her best to look on it in that light. + +"Did the bar'net kiss ye when you wished him goodnight?" she asked. Lucy +said he had not. "Then bide awake as long as ye can," was Mrs. Berry's +rejoinder. "And now let us pray blessings on that simple-speaking +gentleman who does so much 'cause he says so little." + +Like many other natural people, Mrs. Berry was only silly where her own +soft heart was concerned. As she secretly anticipated, the baronet came +into her room when all was quiet. She saw him go and bend over Richard +the Second, and remain earnestly watching him. He then went to the half- +opened door of the room where Lucy slept, leaned his ear a moment, +knocked gently, and entered. Mrs. Berry heard low words interchanging +within. She could not catch a syllable, yet she would have sworn to the +context. "He've called her his daughter, promised her happiness, and +given a father's kiss to her." When Sir Austin passed out she was in a +deep sleep. + + + + +CHAPTER XLII + + +Briareus reddening angrily over the sea--what is that vaporous Titan? +And Hesper set in his rosy garland--why looks he so implacably sweet? It +is that one has left that bright home to go forth and do cloudy work, and +he has got a stain with which he dare not return. Far in the West fair +Lucy beckons him to come. Ah, heaven! if he might! How strong and +fierce the temptation is! how subtle the sleepless desire! it drugs his +reason, his honour. For he loves her; she is still the first and only +woman to him. Otherwise would this black spot be hell to him? otherwise +would his limbs be chained while her arms are spread open to him. And if +he loves her, why then what is one fall in the pit, or a thousand? Is +not love the password to that beckoning bliss? So may we say; but here +is one whose body has been made a temple to him, and it is desecrated. + +A temple, and desecrated! For what is it fit for but for a dance of +devils? His education has thus wrought him to think. + +He can blame nothing but his own baseness. But to feel base and accept +the bliss that beckons--he has not fallen so low as that. + +Ah, happy English home! sweet wife! what mad miserable Wisp of the Fancy +led him away from you, high in his conceit? Poor wretch! that thought to +be he of the hundred hands, and war against the absolute Gods. Jove +whispered a light commission to the Laughing Dame; she met him; and how +did he shake Olympus? with laughter? + +Sure it were better to be Orestes, the Furies howling in his ears, than +one called to by a heavenly soul from whom he is for ever outcast. He +has not the oblivion of madness. Clothed in the lights of his first +passion, robed in the splendour of old skies, she meets him everywhere; +morning, evening, night, she shines above him; waylays him suddenly in +forest depths; drops palpably on his heart. At moments he forgets; he +rushes to embrace her; calls her his beloved, and lo, her innocent kiss +brings agony of shame to his face. + +Daily the struggle endured. His father wrote to him, begging him by the +love he had for him to return. From that hour Richard burnt unread all +the letters he received. He knew too well how easily he could persuade +himself: words from without might tempt him and quite extinguish the +spark of honourable feeling that tortured him, and that he clung to in +desperate self-vindication. + +To arrest young gentlemen on the downward slope is both a dangerous and +thankless office. It is, nevertheless, one that fair women greatly +prize, and certain of them professionally follow. Lady Judith, as far as +her sex would permit, was also of the Titans in their battle against the +absolute Gods; for which purpose, mark you, she had married a lord +incapable in all save his acres. Her achievements she kept to her own +mind: she did not look happy over them. She met Richard accidentally in +Paris; she saw his state; she let him learn that she alone on earth +understood him. The consequence was that he was forthwith enrolled in +her train. It soothed him to be near a woman. Did she venture her guess +as to the cause of his conduct, she blotted it out with a facility women +have, and cast on it a melancholy hue he was taught to participate in. +She spoke of sorrows, personal sorrows, much as he might speak of his-- +vaguely, and with self-blame. And she understood him. How the dark +unfathomed wealth within us gleams to a woman's eye! We are at compound +interest immediately: so much richer than we knew!--almost as rich as we +dreamed! But then the instant we are away from her we find ourselves +bankrupt, beggared. How is that? We do not ask. We hurry to her and +bask hungrily in her orbs. The eye must be feminine to be thus creative: +I cannot say why. Lady Judith understood Richard, and he feeling +infinitely vile, somehow held to her more feverishly, as one who dreaded +the worst in missing her. The spirit must rest; he was weak with what he +suffered. + +Austin found them among the hills of Nassau in Rhineland: Titans, male +and female, who had not displaced Jove, and were now adrift, prone on +floods of sentiment. The blue-flocked peasant swinging behind his oxen +of a morning, the gaily-kerchiefed fruit-woman, the jackass-driver, even +the doctor of those regions, have done more for their fellows. Horrible +reflection! Lady Judith is serene above it, but it frets at Richard when +he is out of her shadow. Often wretchedly he watches the young men of +his own age trooping to their work. Not cloud-work theirs! Work solid, +unambitious, fruitful! + +Lady Judith had a nobler in prospect for the hero. He gaped blindfolded +for anything, and she gave him the map of Europe in tatters. He +swallowed it comfortably. It was an intoxicating cordial. Himself on +horseback overriding wrecks of Empires! Well might common sense cower +with the meaner animals at the picture. Tacitly they agreed to recast +the civilized globe. The quality of vapour is to melt and shape itself +anew; but it is never the quality of vapour to reassume the same shapes. +Briareus of the hundred unoccupied hands may turn to a monstrous donkey +with his hind legs aloft, or twenty thousand jabbering apes. The +phantasmic groupings of the young brain are very like those we see in the +skies, and equally the sport of the wind. Lady Judith blew. There was +plenty of vapour in him, and it always resolved into some shape or other. +You that mark those clouds of eventide, and know youth, will see the +similitude: it will not be strange, it will barely seem foolish to you, +that a young man of Richard's age, Richard's education and position, +should be in this wild state. Had he not been nursed to believe he was +born for great things? Did she not say she was sure of it? And to feel +base, yet born for better, is enough to make one grasp at anything +cloudy. Suppose the hero with a game leg. How intense is his faith to +quacks! with what a passion of longing is he not seized to break +somebody's head! They spoke of Italy in low voices. "The time will +come," said she. "And I shall be ready," said he. What rank was he to +take in the liberating army? Captain, colonel, general in chief, or +simple private? Here, as became him, he was much more positive and +specific than she was: Simple private, he said. Yet he save himself +caracoling on horseback. Private in the cavalry, then, of course. +Private in the cavalry over-riding wrecks of Empires. She looked forth +under her brows with mournful indistinctness at that object in the +distance. They read Petrarch to get up the necessary fires. Italia mia! +Vain indeed was this speaking to those thick and mortal wounds in her +fair body, but their sighs went with the Tiber, the Arno, and the Po, and +their hands joined. Who has not wept for Italy? I see the aspirations +of a world arise for her, thick and frequent as the puffs of smoke from +cigars of Pannonian sentries! + +So when Austin came Richard said he could not leave Lady Judith, Lady +Judith said she could not part with him. For his sake, mind! This +Richard verified. Perhaps he had reason to be grateful. The high road +of Folly may have led him from one that terminates worse. Ho is foolish, +God knows; but for my part I will not laugh at the hero because he has +not got his occasion. Meet him when he is, as it were, anointed by his +occasion, and he is no laughing matter. + +Richard felt his safety in this which, to please the world, we must term +folly. Exhalation of vapours was a wholesome process to him, and +somebody who gave them shape and hue a beneficent Iris. He told Austin +plainly he could not leave her, and did not anticipate the day when he +could. + +"Why can't you go to your wife, Richard?" + +"For a reason you would be the first to approve, Austin." + +He welcomed Austin with every show of manly tenderness, and sadness at +heart. Austin he had always associated with his Lucy in that Hesperian +palace of the West. Austin waited patiently. Lady Judith's old lord +played on all the baths in Nassau without evoking the tune of health. +Whithersoever he listed she changed her abode. So admirable a wife was +to be pardoned for espousing an old man. She was an enthusiast even in +her connubial duties. She had the brows of an enthusiast. With occasion +she might have been a Charlotte Corday. So let her also be shielded from +the ban of ridicule. Nonsense of enthusiasts is very different from +nonsense of ninnies. She was truly a high-minded person, of that order +who always do what they see to be right, and always have confidence in +their optics. She was not unworthy of a young man's admiration, if she +was unfit to be his guide. She resumed her ancient intimacy with Austin +easily, while she preserved her new footing with Richard. She and Austin +were not unlike, only Austin never dreamed, and had not married an old +lord. + +The three were walking on the bridge at Limburg on the Lahn, where the +shadow of a stone bishop is thrown by the moonlight on the water brawling +over slabs of slate. A woman passed them bearing in her arms a baby, +whose mighty size drew their attention. + +"What a wopper!" Richard laughed. + +"Well, that is a fine fellow," said Austin, "but I don't think he's much +bigger than your boy." + +"He'll do for a nineteenth-century Arminius," Richard was saying. Then +he looked at Austin. + +"What was that you said?" Lady Judith asked of Austin. + +"What have I said that deserves to be repeated?" Austin counterqueried +quite innocently. + +"Richard has a son?" + +"You didn't know it?" + +"His modesty goes very far," said Lady Judith, sweeping the shadow of a +curtsey to Richard's paternity. + +Richard's heart throbbed with violence. He looked again in Austin's +face. Austin took it so much as a matter of course that he said nothing +more on the subject. + +"Well!" murmured Lady Judith. + +When the two men were alone, Richard said in a quick voice: "Austin! you +were in earnest?" + +"You didn't know it, Richard?" + +"No." + +"Why, they all wrote to you. Lucy wrote to you: your father, your aunt. +I believe Adrian wrote too." + +"I tore up their letters," said Richard. + +"He's a noble fellow, I can tell you. You've nothing to be ashamed of. +He'll soon be coming to ask about you. I made sure you knew." + +"No, I never knew." Richard walked away, and then said: "What is he +like?" + +"Well, he really is like you, but he has his mother's eyes." + +"And she's--" + +"Yes. I think the child has kept her well." + +"They're both at Raynham?" + +"Both." + +Hence fantastic vapours! What are ye to this! Where are the dreams of +the hero when he learns he has a child? Nature is taking him to her +bosom. She will speak presently. Every domesticated boor in these hills +can boast the same, yet marvels the hero at none of his visioned +prodigies as he does when he comes to hear of this most common +performance. A father? Richard fixed his eyes as if he were trying to +make out the lineaments of his child. + +Telling Austin he would be back in a few minutes, he sallied into the +air, and walked on and on. "A father!" he kept repeating to himself: "a +child!" And though he knew it not, he was striking the keynotes of +Nature. But he did know of a singular harmony that suddenly burst over +his whole being. + +The moon was surpassingly bright: the summer air heavy and still. He +left the high road and pierced into the forest. His walk was rapid: the +leaves on the trees brushed his cheeks; the dead leaves heaped in the +dells noised to his feet. Something of a religious joy--a strange sacred +pleasure--was in him. By degrees it wore; he remembered himself: and now +he was possessed by a proportionate anguish. A father! he dared never +see his child. And he had no longer his phantasies to fall upon. He was +utterly bare to his sin. In his troubled mind it seemed to him that +Clare looked down on him--Clare who saw him as he was; and that to her +eyes it would be infamy for him to go and print his kiss upon his child. +Then came stern efforts to command his misery and make the nerves of his +face iron. + +By the log of an ancient tree half buried in dead leaves of past summers, +beside a brook, he halted as one who had reached his journey's end. +There he discovered he had a companion in Lady Judith's little dog. He +gave the friendly animal a pat of recognition, and both were silent in +the forest-silence. + +It was impossible for Richard to return; his heart was surcharged. He +must advance, and on he footed, the little dog following. + +An oppressive slumber hung about the forest-branches. In the dells and +on the heights was the same dead heat. Here where the brook tinkled it +was no cool-lipped sound, but metallic, and without the spirit of water. +Yonder in a space of moonlight on lush grass, the beams were as white +fire to sight and feeling. No haze spread around. The valleys were +clear, defined to the shadows of their verges, the distances sharply +distinct, and with the colours of day but slightly softened. Richard +beheld a roe moving across a slope of sward far out of rifle-mark. The +breathless silence was significant, yet the moon shone in a broad blue +heaven. Tongue out of mouth trotted the little dog after him; crouched +panting when he stopped an instant; rose weariedly when he started +afresh. Now and then a large white night-moth flitted through the dusk +of the forest. + +On a barren corner of the wooded highland looking inland stood grey +topless ruins set in nettles and rank grass-blades. Richard mechanically +sat down on the crumbling flints to rest, and listened to the panting of +the dog. Sprinkled at his feet were emerald lights: hundreds of glow- +worms studded the dark dry ground. + +He sat and eyed them, thinking not at all. His energies were expended in +action. He sat as a part of the ruins, and the moon turned his shadow +Westward from the South. Overhead, as she declined, long ripples of +silver cloud were imperceptibly stealing toward her. They were the van +of a tempest. He did not observe them or the leaves beginning to +chatter. When he again pursued his course with his face to the Rhine, a +huge mountain appeared to rise sheer over him, and he had it in his mind +to scale it. He got no nearer to the base of it for all his vigorous +outstepping. The ground began to dip; he lost sight of the sky. Then +heavy, thunder-drops streak his cheek, the leaves were singing, the earth +breathed, it was black before him, and behind. All at once the thunder +spoke. The mountain he had marked was bursting over him. + +Up startled the whole forest in violet fire. He saw the country at the +foot of the hills to the bounding Rhine gleam, quiver, extinguished. +Then there were pauses; and the lightning seemed as the eye of heaven, +and the thunder as the tongue of heaven, each alternately addressing him; +filling him with awful rapture. Alone there--sole human creature among +the grandeurs and mysteries of storm--he felt the representative of his +kind, and his spirit rose, and marched, and exulted, let it be glory, let +it be ruin! Lower down the lightened abysses of air rolled the wrathful +crash; then white thrusts of light were darted from the sky, and great +curving ferns, seen steadfast in pallor a second, were supernaturally +agitated, and vanished. Then a shrill song roused in the leaves and the +herbage. Prolonged and louder it sounded, as deeper and heavier the +deluge pressed. A mighty force of water satisfied the desire of the +earth. Even in this, drenched as he was by the first outpouring, Richard +had a savage pleasure. Keeping in motion, he was scarcely conscious of +the wet, and the grateful breath of the weeds was refreshing. Suddenly +he stopped short, lifting a curious nostril. He fancied he smelt meadow- +sweet. He had never seen the flower in Rhineland--never thought of it; +and it would hardly be met with in a forest. He was sure he smelt it +fresh in dews. His little companion wagged a miserable wet tail some way +in advance. He went an slowly, thinking indistinctly. After two or +three steps he stooped and stretched out his hand to feel for the flower, +having, he knew not why, a strong wish to verify its growth there. +Groping about, his hand encountered something warm that started at his +touch, and he, with the instinct we have, seized it, and lifted it to +look at it. The creature was very small, evidently quite young. +Richard's eyes, now accustomed to the darkness, were able to discern it +for what it was, a tiny leveret, and ha supposed that the dog had +probably frightened its dam just before he found it. He put the little +thing on one hand in his breast, and stepped out rapidly as before. + +The rain was now steady; from every tree a fountain poured. So cool and +easy had his mind become that he was speculating on what kind of shelter +the birds could find, and how the butterflies and moths saved their +coloured wings from washing. Folded close they might hang under a leaf, +he thought. Lovingly he looked into the dripping darkness of the coverts +on each side, as one of their children. He was next musing on a strange +sensation he experienced. It ran up one arm with an indescribable +thrill, but communicated nothing to his heart. It was purely physical, +ceased for a time, and recommenced, till he had it all through his blood, +wonderfully thrilling. He grew aware that the little thing he carried in +his breast was licking his hand there. The small rough tongue going over +and over the palm of his hand produced the strange sensation he felt. +Now that he knew the cause, the marvel ended; but now that he knew the +cause, his heart was touched and made more of it. The gentle scraping +continued without intermission as on he walked. What did it say to him? +Human tongue could not have said so much just then. + +A pale grey light on the skirts of the flying tempest displayed the dawn. +Richard was walking hurriedly. The green drenched weeds lay all about in +his path, bent thick, and the forest drooped glimmeringly. Impelled as a +man who feels a revelation mounting obscurely to his brain, Richard was +passing one of those little forest-chapels, hung with votive wreaths, +where the peasant halts to kneel and pray. Cold, still, in the twilight +it stood, rain-drops pattering round it. He looked within, and saw the +Virgin holding her Child. He moved by. But not many steps had he gone +ere his strength went out of him, and he shuddered. What was it? He +asked not. He was in other hands. Vivid as lightning the Spirit of Life +illumined him. He felt in his heart the cry of his child, his darling's +touch. With shut eyes he saw them both. They drew him from the depths; +they led him a blind and tottering man. And as they led him he had a +sense of purification so sweet he shuddered again and again. + +When he looked out from his trance on the breathing world, the small +birds hopped and chirped: warm fresh sunlight was over all the hills. He +was on the edge of the forest, entering a plain clothed with ripe corn +under a spacious morning sky. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIII + + +They heard at Raynham that Richard was coming. Lucy had the news first +in a letter from Ripton Thompson, who met him at Bonn. Ripton did not +say that he had employed his vacation holiday on purpose to use his +efforts to induce his dear friend to return to his wife; and finding +Richard already on his way, of course Ripton said nothing to him, but +affected to be travelling for his pleasure like any cockney. Richard +also wrote to her. In case she should have gone to the sea he directed +her to send word to his hotel that he might not lose an hour. His letter +was sedate in tone, very sweet to her. Assisted by the faithful female +Berry, she was conquering an Aphorist. + +"Woman's reason is in the milk of her breasts," was one of his rough +notes, due to an observation of Lucy's maternal cares. Let us remember, +therefore, we men who have drunk of it largely there, that she has it. + +Mrs. Berry zealously apprised him how early Master Richard's education +had commenced, and the great future historian he must consequently be. +This trait in Lucy was of itself sufficient to win Sir Austin. + +"Here my plan with Richard was false," he reflected: "in presuming that +anything save blind fortuity would bring him such a mate as he should +have." He came to add: "And has got!" + +He could admit now that instinct had so far beaten science; for as +Richard was coming, as all were to be happy, his wisdom embraced them all +paternally as the author of their happiness. Between him and Lucy a +tender intimacy grew. + +"I told you she could talk, sir," said Adrian. + +"She thinks!" said the baronet. + +The delicate question how she was to treat her uncle, he settled +generously. Farmer Blaize should come up to Raynham when he would: Lucy +must visit him at least three times a week. He had Farmer Blaize and +Mrs. Berry to study, and really excellent Aphorisms sprang from the plain +human bases this natural couple presented. + +"It will do us no harm," he thought, "some of the honest blood of the +soil in our veins." And he was content in musing on the parentage of the +little cradled boy. A common sight for those who had the entry to the +library was the baronet cherishing the hand of his daughter-in-law. + +So Richard was crossing the sea, and hearts at Raynham were beating +quicker measures as the minutes progressed. That night he would be with +them. Sir Austin gave Lucy a longer, warmer salute when she came down to +breakfast in the morning. Mrs. Berry waxed thrice amorous. "It's your +second bridals, ye sweet livin' widow!" she said. "Thanks be the Lord! +it's the same man too! and a baby over the bed-post," she appended +seriously. + +"Strange," Berry declared it to be, "strange I feel none o' this to my +Berry now. All my feelin's o' love seem t'ave gone into you two sweet +chicks." + +In fact, the faithless male Berry complained of being treated badly, and +affected a superb jealousy of the baby; but the good dame told him that +if he suffered at all he suffered his due. Berry's position was +decidedly uncomfortable. It could not be concealed from the lower +household that he had a wife in the establishment, and for the +complications this gave rise to, his wife would not legitimately console +him. Lucy did intercede, but Mrs. Berry, was obdurate. She averred she +would not give up the child till he was weaned. "Then, perhaps," she +said prospectively. "You see I ain't so soft as you thought for." + +"You're a very unkind, vindictive old woman," said Lucy. + +"Belike I am," Mrs. Berry was proud to agree. We like a new character, +now and then. Berry had delayed too long. + +Were it not notorious that the straightlaced prudish dare not listen to, +the natural chaste, certain things Mrs. Berry thought it advisable to +impart to the young wife with regard to Berry's infidelity, and the +charity women should have toward sinful men, might here be reproduced. +Enough that she thought proper to broach the matter, and cite her own +Christian sentiments, now that she was indifferent in some degree. + +Oily calm is on the sea. At Raynham they look up at the sky and +speculate that Richard is approaching fairly speeded. He comes to throw +himself on his darling's mercy. Lucy irradiated over forest and sea, +tempest and peace--to her the hero comes humbly. Great is that day when +we see our folly! Ripton and he were the friends of old. Richard +encouraged him to talk of the two he could be eloquent on, and Ripton, +whose secret vanity was in his powers of speech, never tired of +enumerating Lucy's virtues, and the peculiar attributes of the baby. + +"She did not say a word against me, Rip?" + +"Against you, Richard! The moment she knew she was to be a mother, she +thought of nothing but her duty to the child. She's one who can't think +of herself." + +"You've seen her at Raynham, Rip?" + +"Yes, once. They asked me down. And your father's so fond of her--I'm +sure he thinks no woman like her, and he's right. She is so lovely, and +so good." + +Richard was too full of blame of himself to blame his father: too British +to expose his emotions. Ripton divined how deep and changed they were by +his manner. He had cast aside the hero, and however Ripton had obeyed +him and looked up to him in the heroic time, he loved him tenfold now. +He told his friend how much Lucy's mere womanly sweetness and excellence +had done for him, and Richard contrasted his own profitless extravagance +with the patient beauty of his dear home angel. He was not one to take +her on the easy terms that offered. There was that to do which made his +cheek burn as he thought of it, but he was going to do it, even though it +lost her to him. Just to see her and kneel to her was joy sufficient to +sustain him, and warm his blood in the prospect. They marked the white +cliffs growing over the water. Nearer, the sun made them lustrous. +Houses and people seemed to welcome the wild youth to common sense, +simplicity, and home. + +They were in town by mid-day. Richard had a momentary idea of not +driving to his hotel for letters. After a short debate he determined to +go there. The porter said he had two letters for Mr. Richard Feverel-- +one had been waiting some time. He went to the box and fetched them. +The first Richard opened was from Lucy, and as he read it, Ripton +observed the colour deepen on his face, while a quivering smile played +about his mouth. He opened the other indifferently. It began without +any form of address. Richard's forehead darkened at the signature. This +letter was in a sloping feminine hand, and flourished with light strokes +all over, like a field of the bearded barley. Thus it ran: + +"I know you are in a rage with me because I would not consent to ruin +you, you foolish fellow. What do you call it? Going to that unpleasant +place together. Thank you, my milliner is not ready yet, and I want to +make a good appearance when I do go. I suppose I shall have to some day. +Your health, Sir Richard. Now let me speak to you seriously. Go home to +your wife at once. But I know the sort of fellow you are, and I must be +plain with you. Did I ever say I loved you? You may hate me as much as +you please, but I will save you from being a fool. + +"Now listen to me. You know my relations with Mount. That beast Brayder +offered to pay all my debts and set me afloat, if I would keep you in +town. I declare on my honour I had no idea why, and I did not agree to +it. But you were such a handsome fellow--I noticed you in the park +before I heard a word of you. But then you fought shy--you were just as +tempting as a girl. You stung me. Do you know what that is? I would +make you care for me, and we know how it ended, without any intention of +mine, I swear. I'd have cut off my hand rather than do you any harm, +upon my honour. Circumstances! Then I saw it was all up between us. +Brayder came and began to chaff about you. I dealt the animal a stroke +on the face with my riding-whip--I shut him up pretty quick. Do you +think I would let a man speak about you?--I was going to swear. You see +I remember Dick's lessons. O my God! I do feel unhappy.--Brayder +offered me money. Go and think I took it, if you like. What do I care +what anybody thinks! Something that black-guard said made me suspicious. +I went down to the Isle of Wight where Mount was, and your wife was just +gone with an old lady who came and took her away. I should so have liked +to see her. You said, you remember, she would take me as a sister, and +treat me--I laughed at it then. My God! how I could cry now, if water +did any good to a devil, as you politely call poor me. I called at your +house and saw your man-servant, who said Mount had just been there. In a +minute it struck me. I was sure Mount was after a woman, but it never +struck me that woman was your wife. Then I saw why they wanted me to +keep you away. I went to Brayder. You know how I hate him. I made love +to the man to get it out of him. Richard! my word of honour, they have +planned to carry her off, if Mount finds he cannot seduce her. Talk of +devils! He's one; but he is not so bad as Brayder. I cannot forgive a +mean dog his villany. + +"Now after this, I am quite sure you are too much of a man to stop away +from her another moment. I have no more to say. I suppose we shall not +see each other again, so good-bye, Dick! I fancy I hear you cursing me. +Why can't you feel like other men on the subject? But if you were like +the rest of them I should not have cared for you a farthing. I have not +worn lilac since I saw you last. I'll be buried in your colour, Dick. +That will not offend you--will it? + +"You are not going to believe I took the money? If I thought you thought +that--it makes me feel like a devil only to fancy you think it. + +"The first time you meet Brayder, cane him publicly. + +"Adieu! Say it's because you don't like his face. I suppose devils must +not say Adieu. Here's plain old good-bye, then, between you and me. +Good-bye, dear Dick! You won't think that of me? + +"May I eat dry bread to the day of my death if I took or ever will touch +a scrap of their money. BELLA." + +Richard folded up the letter silently. + +"Jump into the cab," he said to Ripton. + +"Anything the matter, Richard?" + +"No." + +The driver received directions. Richard sat without speaking. His friend +knew that face. He asked whether there was bad news in the letter. For +answer, he had the lie circumstancial. He ventured to remark that they +were going the wrong way. + +"It'd the right way," cried Richard, and his jaws were hard and square, +and his eyes looked heavy and full. + +Ripton said no more, but thought. + +The cabman pulled up at a Club. A gentleman, in whom Ripton recognized +the Hon. Peter Brayder, was just then swinging a leg over his horse, with +one foot in the stirrup. Hearing his name called, the Hon. Peter turned +about, and stretched an affable hand. + +"Is Mountfalcon in town?" said Richard taking the horse's reins instead +of the gentlemanly hand. His voice and aspect were quite friendly. + +"Mount?" Brayder replied, curiously watching the action; "yes. He's off +this evening." + +"He is in town?" Richard released his horse. "I want to see him. Where +is he?" + +The young man looked pleasant: that which might have aroused Brayder's +suspicions was an old affair in parasitical register by this time. "Want +to see him? What about?" he said carelessly, and gave the address. + +"By the way," he sang out, "we thought of putting your name down, +Feverel." He indicated the lofty structure. "What do you say?" + +Richard nodded back at him, crying, "Hurry." Brayder returned the nod, +and those who promenaded the district soon beheld his body in elegant +motion to the stepping of his well-earned horse. + +"What do you want to see Lord Mountfalcon for, Richard?" said Ripton. + +"I just want to see him," Richard replied. + +Ripton was left in the cab at the door of my lord's residence. He had to +wait there a space of about ten minutes, when Richard returned with a +clearer visage, though somewhat heated. He stood outside the cab, and +Ripton was conscious of being examined by those strong grey eyes. As +clear as speech he understood them to say to him, "You won't do," but +which of the many things on earth he would not do for he was at a loss to +think. + +"Go down to Raynham, Ripton. Say I shall be there tonight certainly. +Don't bother me with questions. Drive off at once. Or wait. Get another +cab. I'll take this." + +Ripton was ejected, and found himself standing alone in the street. As +he was on the point of rushing after the galloping cab-horse to get a +word of elucidation, he heard some one speak behind him. + +"You are Feverel's friend?" + +Ripton had an eye for lords. An ambrosial footman, standing at the open +door of Lord Mountfalcon's house, and a gentleman standing on the +doorstep, told him that he was addressed by that nobleman. He was +requested to step into the house. When they were alone, Lord +Mountfalcon, slightly ruffled, said: "Feverel has insulted me grossly. I +must meet him, of course. It's a piece of infernal folly!--I suppose he +is not quite mad?" + +Ripton's only definite answer was, a gasping iteration of "My lord." + +My lord resumed: "I am perfectly guiltless of offending him, as far as I +know. In fact, I had a friendship for him. Is he liable to fits of this +sort of thing?" + +Not yet at conversation-point, Ripton stammered: "Fits, my lord?" + +"Ah!" went the other, eying Ripton in lordly cognizant style. "You know +nothing of this business, perhaps?" + +Ripton said he did not. + +"Have you any influence with him?" + +"Not much, my lord. Only now and then--a little." + +"You are not in the Army?" + +The question was quite unnecessary. Ripton confessed to the law, and my +lord did not look surprised. + +"I will not detain you," he said, distantly bowing. + +Ripton gave him a commoner's obeisance; but getting to the door, the +sense of the matter enlightened him. + +"It's a duel, my lord?" + +"No help for it, if his friends don't shut him up in Bedlam between this +and to-morrow morning." + +Of all horrible things a duel was the worst in Ripton's imagination. He +stood holding the handle of the door, revolving this last chapter of +calamity suddenly opened where happiness had promised. + +"A duel! but he won't, my lord,--he mustn't fight, my lord." + +"He must come on the ground," said my lord, positively. + +Ripton ejaculated unintelligible stuff. Finally Lord Mountfalcon said: +"I went out of my way, sir, in speaking to you. I saw you from the +window. Your friend is mad. Deuced methodical, I admit, but mad. I +have particular reasons to wish not to injure the young man, and if an +apology is to be got out of him when we're on the ground, I'll take it, +and we'll stop the damned scandal, if possible. You understand? I'm the +insulted party, and I shall only require of him to use formal words of +excuse to come to an amicable settlement. Let him just say he regrets +it. +Now, sir," the nobleman spoke with considerable earnestness, +"should anything happen--I have the honour to be known to Mrs. Feverel-- +and I beg you will tell her. I very particularly desire you to let her +know that I was not to blame." + +Mountfalcon rang the bell, and bowed him out. With this on his mind +Ripton hurried down to those who were waiting in joyful trust at Raynham. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIV + + +The watch consulted by Hippias alternately with his pulse, in occult +calculation hideous to mark, said half-past eleven on the midnight. +Adrian, wearing a composedly amused expression on his dimpled plump +face,--held slightly sideways, aloof from paper and pen,--sat writing at +the library table. Round the baronet's chair, in a semi-circle, were +Lucy, Lady Blandish, Mrs. Doria, and Ripton, that very ill bird at +Raynham. They were silent as those who question the flying minutes. +Ripton had said that Richard was sure to come; but the feminine eyes +reading him ever and anon, had gathered matter for disquietude, which +increased as time sped. Sir Austin persisted in his habitual air of +speculative repose. + +Remote as he appeared from vulgar anxiety, he was the first to speak and +betray his state. + +"Pray, put up that watch. Impatience serves nothing," he said, half- +turning hastily to his brother behind him. + +Hippias relinquished his pulse and mildly groaned: "It's no nightmare, +this!" + +His remark was unheard, and the bearing of it remained obscure. Adrian's +pen made a louder flourish on his manuscript; whether in commiseration or +infernal glee, none might say. + +"What are you writing?" the baronet inquired testily of Adrian, after a +pause; twitched, it may be, by a sort of jealousy of the wise youth's +coolness. + +"Do I disturb you, sir?" rejoined Adrian. "I am engaged on a portion of +a Proposal for uniting the Empires and Kingdoms of Europe under one +Paternal Head, on the model of the ever-to-be-admired and lamented Holy +Roman. This treats of the management of Youths and Maids, and of certain +magisterial functions connected therewith. 'It is decreed that these +officers be all and every men of science,' etc." And Adrian cheerily +drove his pen afresh. + +Mrs. Doria took Lucy's hand, mutely addressing encouragement to her, and +Lucy brought as much of a smile as she could command to reply with. + +"I fear we must give him up to-night," observed Lady Blandish. + +"If he said he would come, he will come," Sir Austin interjected. +Between him and the lady there was something of a contest secretly going +on. He was conscious that nothing save perfect success would now hold +this self-emancipating mind. She had seen him through. + +"He declared to me he would be certain to come," said Ripton; but he +could look at none of them as he said it, for he was growing aware that +Richard might have deceived him, and was feeling like a black conspirator +against their happiness. He determined to tell the baronet what he knew, +if Richard did not come by twelve. + +"What is the time?" he asked Hippias in a modest voice. + +"Time for me to be in bed," growled Hippias, as if everybody present had +been treating him badly. + +Mrs. Berry came in to apprise Lucy that she was wanted above. She +quietly rose. Sir Austin kissed her on the forehead, saying: "You had +better not come down again, my child." She kept her eyes on him. +"Oblige me by retiring for the night," he added. Lucy shook their hands, +and went out, accompanied by Mrs. Doria. + +"This agitation will be bad for the child," he said, speaking to himself +aloud. + +Lady Blandish remarked: "I think she might just as well have returned. +She will not sleep." + +"She will control herself for the child's sake." + +"You ask too much of her." + +"Of her, not," he emphasized. + +It was twelve o'clock when Hippies shut his watch, and said with +vehemence: "I'm convinced my circulation gradually and steadily +decreases!" + +"Going back to the pre-Harvey period!" murmured Adrian as he wrote. + +Sir Austin and Lady Blandish knew well that any comment would introduce +them to the interior of his machinery, the eternal view of which was +sufficiently harrowing; so they maintained a discreet reserve. Taking it +for acquiescence in his deplorable condition, Hippies resumed +despairingly: "It's a fact. I've brought you to see that. No one can be +more moderate than I am, and yet I get worse. My system is organically +sound--I believe: I do every possible thing, and yet I get worse. Nature +never forgives! I'll go to bed." + +The Dyspepsy departed unconsoled. + +Sir Austin took up his brother's thought: "I suppose nothing short of a +miracle helps us when we have offended her." + +"Nothing short of a quack satisfies us," said Adrian, applying wax to an +envelope of official dimensions. + +Ripton sat accusing his soul of cowardice while they talked; haunted by +Lucy's last look at him. He got up his courage presently and went round +to Adrian, who, after a few whispered words, deliberately rose and +accompanied him out of the room, shrugging. When they had gone, Lady +Blandish said to the baronet: "He is not coming." + +"To-morrow, then, if not tonight," he replied. "But I say he will come +to-night." + +"You do really wish to see him united to his wife?" + +The question made the baronet raise his brows with some displeasure. + +"Can you ask me?" + +"I mean," said, the ungenerous woman, "your System will require no +further sacrifices from either of them?" + +When he did answer, it was to say: "I think her altogether a superior +person. I confess I should scarcely have hoped to find one like her." + +"Admit that your science does not accomplish everything." + +"No: it was presumptuous--beyond a certain point," said the baronet, +meaning deep things. + +Lady Blandish eyed him. "Ah me!" she sighed, "if we would always be true +to our own wisdom!" + +"You are very singular to-night, Emmeline." Sir Austin stopped his walk +in front of her. + +In truth, was she not unjust? Here was an offending son freely forgiven. +Here was a young woman of humble birth, freely accepted into his family +and permitted to stand upon her qualities. Who would have done more--or +as much? This lady, for instance, had the case been hers, would have +fought it. All the people of position that he was acquainted with would +have fought it, and that without feeling it so peculiarly. But while the +baronet thought this, he did not think of the exceptional education his +son had received. He, took the common ground of fathers, forgetting his +System when it was absolutely on trial. False to his son it could not be +said that he had been false to his System he was. Others saw it plainly, +but he had to learn his lesson by and by. + +Lady Blandish gave him her face; then stretched her hand to the table, +saying, "Well! well!" She fingered a half-opened parcel lying there, and +drew forth a little book she recognized. "Ha! what is this?" she said. + +"Benson returned it this morning," he informed her. "The stupid fellow +took it away with him--by mischance, I am bound to believe." + +It was nothing other than the old Note-book. Lady Blandish turned over +the leaves, and came upon the later jottings. + +She read: "A maker of Proverbs--what is he but a narrow mind with the +mouthpiece of narrower?" + +"I do not agree with that," she observed. He was in no humour for +argument. + +"Was your humility feigned when you wrote it?" + +He merely said: "Consider the sort of minds influenced by set sayings. A +proverb is the half-way-house to an Idea, I conceive; and the majority +rest there content: can the keeper of such a house be flattered by his +company?" + +She felt her feminine intelligence swaying under him again. There must +be greatness in a man who could thus speak of his own special and +admirable aptitude. + +Further she read, "Which is the coward among us?--He who sneers at the +failings of Humanity!" + +"Oh! that is true! How much I admire that!" cried the dark-eyed dame as +she beamed intellectual raptures. + +Another Aphorism seemed closely to apply to him: "There is no more +grievous sight, as there is no greater perversion, than a wise man at the +mercy of his feelings." + +"He must have written it," she thought, "when he had himself for an +example--strange man that he is!" + +Lady Blandish was still inclined to submission, though decidedly +insubordinate. She had once been fairly conquered: but if what she +reverenced as a great mind could conquer her, it must be a great man that +should hold her captive. The Autumn Primrose blooms for the loftiest +manhood; is a vindictive flower in lesser hands. Nevertheless Sir Austin +had only to be successful, and this lady's allegiance was his for ever. +The trial was at hand. + +She said again: "He is not coming to-night," and the baronet, on whose +visage a contemplative pleased look had been rising for a minute past, +quietly added: "He is come." + +Richard's voice was heard in the hall. + +There was commotion all over the house at the return of the young heir. +Berry, seizing every possible occasion to approach his Bessy now that her +involuntary coldness had enhanced her value--"Such is men!" as the soft +woman reflected--Berry ascended to her and delivered the news in pompous +tones and wheedling gestures. "The best word you've spoke for many a +day," says she, and leaves him unfee'd, in an attitude, to hurry and pour +bliss into Lucy's ears. + +"Lord be praised!" she entered the adjoining room exclaiming, "we're got +to be happy at last. They men have come to their senses. I could cry to +your Virgin and kiss your Cross, you sweet!" + +"Hush!" Lucy admonished her, and crooned over the child on her knees. +The tiny open hands, full of sleep, clutched; the large blue eyes started +awake; and his mother, all trembling and palpitating, knowing, but +thirsting to hear it, covered him with her tresses, and tried to still +her frame, and rocked, and sang low, interdicting even a whisper from +bursting Mrs. Berry. + +Richard had come. He was under his father's roof, in the old home that +had so soon grown foreign to him. He stood close to his wife and child. +He might embrace them both: and now the fulness of his anguish and the +madness of the thing he had done smote the young man: now first he tasted +hard earthly misery. + +Had not God spoken to him in the tempest? Had not the finger of heaven +directed him homeward? And he had come: here he stood: congratulations +were thick in his ears: the cup of happiness was held to him, and he was +invited to drink of it. Which was the dream? his work for the morrow, or +this? But for a leaden load that he felt like a bullet in his breast, he +might have thought the morrow with death sitting on it was the dream. +Yes; he was awake. Now first the cloud of phantasms cleared away: he +beheld his real life, and the colours of true human joy: and on the +morrow perhaps he was to close his eyes on them. That leaden bullet +dispersed all unrealities. + +They stood about him in the hall, his father, Lady Blandish, Mrs. Doria, +Adrian, Ripton; people who had known him long. They shook his hand: they +gave him greetings he had never before understood the worth of or the +meaning. Now that he did they mocked him. There was Mrs. Berry in the +background bobbing, there was Martin Berry bowing, there was Tom Bakewell +grinning. Somehow he loved the sight of these better. + +"Ah, my old Penelope!" he said, breaking through the circle of his +relatives to go to her. "Tom! how are you?" + +"Bless ye, my Mr, Richard," whimpered Mrs. Berry, and whispered, rosily, +"all's agreeable now. She's waiting up in bed for ye, like a new-born." + +The person who betrayed most agitation was, Mrs. Doria. She held close +to him, and eagerly studied his face and every movement, as one +accustomed to masks. "You are pale, Richard?" He pleaded exhaustion. +"What detained you, dear?" "Business," he said. She drew him +imperiously apart from the others. "Richard! is it over?" He asked what +she meant. "The dreadful duel, Richard." He looked darkly. "Is it +over? is it done, Richard?" Getting no immediate answer, she continued-- +and such was her agitation that the words were shaken by pieces from her +mouth: "Don't pretend not to understand me, Richard! Is it over? Are +you going to die the death of my child--Clare's death? Is not one in a +family enough? Think of your dear young wife--we love her so!--your +child!--your father! Will you kill us all?" + +Mrs. Doria had chanced to overhear a trifle of Ripton's communication to +Adrian, and had built thereon with the dark forces of a stricken soul. + +Wondering how this woman could have divined it, Richard calmly said: +"It's arranged--the matter you allude to." + +"Indeed!--truly, dear?" + +"Yes." + +"Tell me"--but he broke away from her, saying: "You shall hear the +particulars to-morrow," and she, not alive to double meaning just then, +allowed him to leave her. + +He had eaten nothing for twelve hours, and called for food, but he would +take only dry bread and claret, which was served on a tray in the +library. He said, without any show of feeling, that he must eat before +he saw the young hope of Raynham: so there he sat, breaking bread, and +eating great mouthfuls, and washing them down with wine, talking of what +they would. His father's studious mind felt itself years behind him, he +was so completely altered. He had the precision of speech, the bearing +of a man of thirty. Indeed he had all that the necessity for cloaking an +infinite misery gives. But let things be as they might, he was, there. +For one night in his life Sir Austin's perspective of the future was +bounded by the night. + +"Will your go to your wife now?" he had asked and Richard had replied +with a strange indifference. The baronet thought it better that their +meeting should be private, and sent word for Lucy to wait upstairs. The +others perceived that father and son should now be left alone. Adrian +went up to him, and said: "I can no longer witness this painful sight, so +Good-night, Sir Famish! You may cheat yourself into the belief that +you've made a meal, but depend upon it your progeny--and it threatens to +be numerous--will cry aloud and rue the day. Nature never forgives! A +lost dinner can never be replaced! Good-night, my dear boy. And here-- +oblige me by taking this," he handed Richard the enormous envelope +containing what he had written that evening. "Credentials!" he exclaimed +humorously, slapping Richard on the shoulder. Ripton heard also the +words "propagator--species," but had no idea of their import. The wise +youth looked: You see we've made matters all right for you here, and +quitted the room on that unusual gleam of earnestness. + +Richard shook his hand, and Ripton's. Then Lady Blandish said her good- +night, praising Lucy, and promising to pray for their mutual happiness. +The two men who knew what was hanging over him, spoke together outside. +Ripton was for getting a positive assurance that the duel would not be +fought, but Adrian said: "Time enough tomorrow. He's safe enough while +he's here. I'll stop it to-morrow:" ending with banter of Ripton and +allusions to his adventures with Miss Random, which must, Adrian said, +have led him into many affairs of the sort. Certainly Richard was there, +and while he was there he must be safe. So thought Ripton, and went to +his bed. Mrs. Doria deliberated likewise, and likewise thought him safe +while he was there. For once in her life she thought it better not to +trust to her instinct, for fear of useless disturbance where peace should +be. So she said not a syllable of it to her brother. She only looked +more deeply into Richard's eyes, as she kissed him, praising Lucy. "I +have found a second daughter in her, dear. Oh! may you both be happy!" + +They all praised Lucy, now. His father commenced the moment they were +alone. "Poor Helen! Your wife has been a great comfort to her, Richard. +I think Helen must have sunk without her. So lovely a young person, +possessing mental faculty, and a conscience for her duties, I have never +before met." + +He wished to gratify his son by these eulogies of Lucy, and some hours +back he would have succeeded. Now it had the contrary effect. + +"You compliment me on my choice, sir?" + +Richard spoke sedately, but the irony was perceptible and he could speak +no other way, his bitterness was so intense. + +"I think you very fortunate," said his father. + +Sensitive to tone and manner as he was, his ebullition of paternal +feeling was frozen. Richard did not approach him. He leaned against the +chimney-piece, glancing at the floor, and lifting his eyes only when he +spoke. Fortunate! very fortunate! As he revolved his later history, and +remembered how clearly he had seen that his father must love Lucy if he +but knew her, and remembered his efforts to persuade her to come with +him, a sting of miserable rage blackened his brain. But could he blame +that gentle soul? Whom could he blame? Himself? Not utterly. His +father? Yes, and no. The blame was here, the blame was there: it was +everywhere and nowhere, and the young man cast it on the Fates, and +looked angrily at heaven, and grew reckless. + +"Richard," said his father, coming close to him, "it is late to-night. I +do not wish Lucy to remain in expectation longer, or I should have +explained myself to you thoroughly, and I think--or at least hope--you +would have justified me. I had cause to believe that you had not only +violated my confidence, but grossly deceived me. It was not so, I now +know. I was mistaken. Much of our misunderstanding has resulted from +that mistake. But you were married--a boy: you knew nothing of the +world, little of yourself. To save you in after-life--for there is a +period when mature men and women who have married young are more impelled +to temptation than in youth,--though not so exposed to it,--to save you, +I say, I decreed that you should experience self-denial and learn +something of your fellows of both sexes, before settling into a state +that must have been otherwise precarious, however excellent the woman who +is your mate. My System with you would have been otherwise imperfect, +and you would have felt the effects of it. It is over now. You are a +man. The dangers to which your nature was open are, I trust, at an end. +I wish you to be happy, and I give you both my blessing, and pray God to +conduct and strengthen you both." + +Sir Austin's mind was unconscious of not having spoken devoutly. True or +not, his words were idle to his son: his talk of dangers over, and +happiness, mockery. + +Richard coldly took his father's extended hand. + +"We will go to her," said the baronet. "I will leave you at her door." + +Not moving: looking fixedly at his father with a hard face on which the +colour rushed, Richard said: "A husband who has been unfaithful to his +wife may go to her there, sir?" + +It was horrible, it was cruel: Richard knew that. He wanted no advice on +such a matter, having fully resolved what to do. Yesterday he would have +listened to his father, and blamed himself alone, and done what was to be +done humbly before God and her: now in the recklessness of his misery he +had as little pity for any other soul as for his own. Sir Austin's brows +were deep drawn down. + +"What did you say, Richard?" + +Clearly his intelligence had taken it, but this--the worst he could hear- +-this that he had dreaded once and doubted, and smoothed over, and cast +aside--could it be? + +Richard said: "I told you all but the very words when we last parted. +What else do you think would have kept me from her?" + +Angered at his callous aspect, his father cried: "What brings you to her +now?" + +"That will be between us two," was the reply. + +Sir Austin fell into his chair. Meditation was impossible. He spoke +from a wrathful heart: "You will not dare to take her without"-- + +"No, sir," Richard interrupted him, "I shall not. Have no fear." + +"Then you did not love your wife?" + +"Did I not?" A smile passed faintly over Richard's face. + +"Did you care so much for this--this other person?" + +"So much? If you ask me whether I had affection for her, I can say I had +none." + +O base human nature! Then how? then why? A thousand questions rose in +the baronet's mind. Bessy Berry could have answered them every one. + +"Poor child! poor child!" he apostrophized Lucy, pacing the room. +Thinking of her, knowing her deep love for his son--her true forgiving +heart--it seemed she should be spared this misery. + +He proposed to Richard to spare her. Vast is the distinction between +women and men in this one sin, he said, and supported it with physical +and moral citations. His argument carried him so far, that to hear him +one would have imagined he thought the sin in men small indeed. His +words were idle. + +"She must know it," said Richard, sternly. "I will go to her now, sir, +if you please." + +Sir Austin detained him, expostulated, contradicted himself, confounded +his principles, made nonsense of all his theories. He could not induce +his son to waver in his resolve. Ultimately, their good-night being +interchanged, he understood that the happiness of Raynham depended on +Lucy's mercy. He had no fears of her sweet heart, but it was a strange +thing to have come to. On which should the accusation fall--on science, +or on human nature? + +He remained in the library pondering over the question, at times +breathing contempt for his son, and again seized with unwonted suspicion +of his own wisdom: troubled, much to be pitied, even if he deserved that +blow from his son which had plunged him into wretchedness. Richard went +straight to Tom Bakewell, roused the heavy sleeper, and told him to have +his mare saddled and waiting at the park gates East within an hour. +Tom's nearest approach to a hero was to be a faithful slave to his +master, and in doing this he acted to his conception of that high and +glorious character. He got up and heroically dashed his head into cold +water. "She shall be ready, sir," he nodded. + +"Tom! if you don't see me back here at Raynham, your money will go on +being paid to you." + +"Rather see you than the money, Mr. Richard," said Tom. + +"And you will always watch and see no harm comes to her, Tom." + +"Mrs. Richard, sir?" Tom stared. "God bless me, Mr. Richard"-- + +"No questions. You'll do what I say." + +"Ay, sir; that I will. Did'n Isle o' Wight." + +The very name of the Island shocked Richard's blood; and he had to walk +up and down before he could knock at Lucy's door. That infamous +conspiracy to which he owed his degradation and misery scarce left him +the feelings of a man when he thought of it. + +The soft beloved voice responded to his knock. He opened the door, and +stood before her. Lucy was half-way toward him. In the moment that +passed ere she was in his arms, he had time to observe the change in her. +He had left her a girl: he beheld a woman--a blooming woman: for pale at +first, no sooner did she see him than the colour was rich and deep on her +face and neck and bosom half shown through the loose dressing-robe, and +the sense of her exceeding beauty made his heart thump and his eyes swim. + +"My darling!" each cried, and they clung together, and her mouth was +fastened on his. + +They spoke no more. His soul was drowned in her kiss. Supporting her, +whose strength was gone, he, almost as weak as she, hung over her, and +clasped her closer, closer, till they were as one body, and in the +oblivion her lips put upon him he was free to the bliss of her embrace. +Heaven granted him that. He placed her in a chair and knelt at her feet +with both arms around her. Her bosom heaved; her eyes never quitted him: +their light as the light on a rolling wave. This young creature, +commonly so frank and straightforward, was broken with bashfulness in her +husband's arms--womanly bashfulness on the torrent of womanly love; +tenfold more seductive than the bashfulness of girlhood. Terrible +tenfold the loss of her seemed now, as distantly--far on the horizon of +memory--the fatal truth returned to him. + +Lose her? lose this? He looked up as if to ask God to confirm it. + +The same sweet blue eyes! the eyes that he had often seen in the dying +glories of evening; on him they dwelt, shifting, and fluttering, and +glittering, but constant: the light of them as the light on a rolling +wave. + +And true to him! true, good, glorious, as the angels of heaven! And his +she was! a woman--his wife! The temptation to take her, and be dumb, was +all powerful: the wish to die against her bosom so strong as to be the +prayer of his vital forces. Again he strained her to him, but this time +it was as a robber grasps priceless treasure--with exultation and +defiance. One instant of this. Lucy, whose pure tenderness had now +surmounted the first wild passion of their meeting, bent back her head +from her surrendered body, and said almost voicelessly, her underlids +wistfully quivering: "Come and see him--baby;" and then in great hope of +the happiness she was going to give her husband, and share with him, and +in tremour and doubt of what his feelings would be, she blushed, and her +brows worked: she tried to throw off the strangeness of a year of +separation, misunderstanding, and uncertainty. + +"Darling! come and see him. He is here." She spoke more clearly, though +no louder. + +Richard had released her, and she took his hand, and he suffered himself +to be led to the other side of the bed. His heart began rapidly +throbbing at the sight of a little rosy-curtained cot covered with lace +like milky summer cloud. + +It seemed to him he would lose his manhood if he looked on that child's +face. + +"Stop!" he cried suddenly. + +Lucy turned first to him, and then to her infant, fearing it should have +been disturbed. + +"Lucy, come back." + +"What is it, darling?" said she, in alarm at his voice and the grip he +had unwittingly given her hand. + +O God! what an Ordeal was this! that to-morrow he must face death, +perhaps die and be torn from his darling--his wife and his child; and +that ere he went forth, ere he could dare to see his child and lean his +head reproachfully on his young wife's breast--for the last time, it +might be--he must stab her to the heart, shatter the image she held of +him. + +"Lucy!" She saw him wrenched with agony, and her own face took the +whiteness of his--she bending forward to him, all her faculties strung to +hearing. + +He held her two hands that she might look on him and not spare the +horrible wound he was going to lay open to her eyes. + +"Lucy. Do you know why I came to you to-night?" + +She moved her lips repeating his words. + +"Lucy. Have you guessed why I did not come before?" + +Her head shook widened eyes. + +"Lucy. I did not come because I was not worthy of my wife! Do you +understand?" + +"Darling," she faltered plaintively, and hung crouching under him, "what +have I done to make you angry with me?" + +"O beloved!" cried he, the tears bursting out of his eyes. "O beloved!" +was all he could say, kissing her hands passionately. + +She waited, reassured, but in terror. + +"Lucy. I stayed away from you--I could not come to you, because... I +dared not come to you, my wife, my beloved! I could not come because I +was a coward: because--hear me--this was the reason: I have broken my +marriage oath." + +Again her lips moved. She caught at a dim fleshless meaning in them. +"But you love me? Richard! My husband! you love me?" + +"Yes. I have never loved, I never shall love, woman but you." + +"Darling! Kiss me." + +"Have you understood what I have told you?" + +"Kiss me," she said. + +He did not join lips. "I have come to you to-night to ask your +forgiveness." + +Her answer was: "Kiss me." + +"Can you forgive a man so base?" + +"But you love me, Richard?" + +"Yes: that I can say before God. I love you, and I have betrayed you, +and am unworthy of you--not worthy to touch your hand, to kneel at your +feet, to breathe the same air with you." + +Her eyes shone brilliantly. "You love me! you love me, darling!" And as +one who has sailed through dark fears into daylight, she said: "My +husband! my darling! you will never leave me? We never shall be parted +again?" + +He drew his breath painfully. To smooth her face growing rigid with +fresh fears at his silence, he met her mouth. That kiss in which she +spoke what her soul had to say, calmed her, and she smiled happily from +it, and in her manner reminded him of his first vision of her on the +summer morning in the field of the meadow-sweet. He held her to him, and +thought then of a holier picture: of Mother and Child: of the sweet +wonders of life she had made real to him. + +Had he not absolved his conscience? At least the pangs to come made him +think so. He now followed her leading hand. Lucy whispered: "You +mustn't disturb him--mustn't touch him, dear!" and with dainty fingers +drew off the covering to the little shoulder. One arm of the child was +out along the pillow; the small hand open. His baby-mouth was pouted +full; the dark lashes of his eyes seemed to lie on his plump cheeks. +Richard stooped lower down to him, hungering for some movement as a sign +that he lived. Lucy whispered. "He sleeps like you, Richard--one arm +under his head." Great wonder, and the stir of a grasping tenderness was +in Richard. He breathed quick and soft, bending lower, till Lucy's +curls, as she nestled and bent with him, rolled on the crimson quilt of +the cot. A smile went up the plump cheeks: forthwith the bud of a mouth +was in rapid motion. The young mother whispered, blushing: "He's +dreaming of me," and the simple words did more than Richard's eyes to +make him see what was. Then Lucy began to hum and buzz sweet baby- +language, and some of the tiny fingers stirred, and he made as if to +change his cosy position, but reconsidered, and deferred it, with a +peaceful little sigh. Lucy whispered: "He is such a big fellow. Oh! +when you see him awake he is so like you, Richard." + +He did not hear her immediately: it seemed a bit of heaven dropped there +in his likeness: the more human the fact of the child grew the more +heavenly it seemed. His son! his child! should he ever see him awake? +At the thought, he took the words that had been spoken, and started from +the dream he had been in. "Will he wake soon, Lucy?" + +"Oh no! not yet, dear: not for hours. I would have kept him awake for +you, but he was so sleepy." + +Richard stood back from the cot. He thought that if he saw the eyes of +his boy, and had him once on his heart, he never should have force to +leave him. Then he looked down on him, again struggled to tear himself +away. Two natures warred in his bosom, or it may have been the Magian +Conflict still going on. He had come to see his child once and to make +peace with his wife before it should be too late. Might he not stop with +them? Might he not relinquish that devilish pledge? Was not divine +happiness here offered to him?--If foolish Ripton had not delayed to tell +him of his interview with Mountfalcon all might have been well. But +pride said it was impossible. And then injury spoke. For why was he +thus base and spotted to the darling of his love? A mad pleasure in the +prospect of wreaking vengeance on the villain who had laid the trap for +him, once more blackened his brain. If he would stay he could not. So +he resolved, throwing the burden on Fate. The struggle was over, but oh, +the pain! + +Lucy beheld the tears streaming hot from his face on the child's cot. +She marvelled at such excess of emotion. But when his chest heaved, and +the extremity of mortal anguish appeared to have seized him, her heart +sank, and she tried to get him in her arms. He turned away from her and +went to the window. A half-moon was over the lake. + +"Look!" he said, "do you remember our rowing there one night, and we saw +the shadow of the cypress? I wish I could have come early to-night that +we might have had another row, and I have heard you sing there!" + +"Darling!" said she, "will it make you happier if I go with you now? I +will." + +"No, Lucy. Lucy, you are brave!" + +"Oh, no! that I'm not. I thought so once. I know I am not now." + +"Yes! to have lived--the child on your heart--and never to have uttered a +complaint!--you are brave. O my Lucy! my wife! you that have made me +man! I called you a coward. I remember it. I was the coward--I the +wretched vain fool! Darling! I am going to leave you now. You are +brave, and you will bear it. Listen: in two days, or three, I may be +back--back for good, if you will accept me. Promise me to go to bed +quietly. Kiss the child for me, and tell him his father has seen him. +He will learn to speak soon. Will he soon speak, Lucy?" + +Dreadful suspicion kept her speechless; she could only clutch one arm of +his with both her hands. + +"Going?" she presently gasped. + +"For two or three days. No more--I hope." + +"To-night?" + +"Yes. Now." + +"Going now? my husband!" her faculties abandoned her. + +"You will be brave, my Lucy!" + +"Richard! my darling husband! Going? What is it takes you from me?" +But questioning no further, she fell on her knees, and cried piteously to +him to stay--not to leave them. Then she dragged him to the little +sleeper, and urged him to pray by his side, and he did, but rose abruptly +from his prayer when he had muttered a few broken words--she praying on +with tight-strung nerves, in the faith that what she said to the +interceding Mother above would be stronger than human hands on him. Nor +could he go while she knelt there. + +And he wavered. He had not reckoned on her terrible suffering. She came +to him, quiet. "I knew you would remain." And taking his hand, +innocently fondling it: "Am I so changed from her he loved? You will not +leave me, dear?" But dread returned, and the words quavered as she spoke +them. + +He was almost vanquished by the loveliness of her womanhood. She drew +his hand to her heart, and strained it there under one breast. "Come: +lie on my heart," she murmured with a smile of holy sweetness. + +He wavered more, and drooped to her, but summoning the powers of hell, +kissed her suddenly, cried the words of parting, and hurried to the door. +It was over in an instant. She cried out his name, clinging to him +wildly, and was adjured to be brave, for he would be dishonoured if he +did not go. Then she was shaken off. + +Mrs. Berry was aroused by an unusual prolonged wailing of the child, +which showed that no one was comforting it, and failing to get any answer +to her applications for admittance, she made bold to enter. There she +saw Lucy, the child in her lap, sitting on the floor senseless:--she had +taken it from its sleep and tried to follow her husband with it as her +strongest appeal to him, and had fainted. + +"Oh my! oh my!" Mrs. Berry moaned, "and I just now thinkin' they was so +happy!" + +Warming and caressing the poor infant, she managed by degrees to revive +Lucy, and heard what had brought her to that situation. + +"Go to his father," said Mrs. Berry. "Ta-te-tiddle-te-heighty-O! Go, my +love, and every horse in Raynham shall be out after 'm. This is what men +brings us to! Heighty-oighty-iddlety-Ah! Or you take blessed baby, and +I'll go." + +The baronet himself knocked at the door. "What is this?" he said. "I +heard a noise and a step descend." + +"It's Mr. Richard have gone, Sir Austin! have gone from his wife and +babe! Rum-te-um-te-iddledy--Oh, my goodness! what sorrow's come on us!" +and Mrs. Berry wept, and sang to baby, and baby cried vehemently, and +Lucy, sobbing, took him and danced him and sang to him with drawn lips +and tears dropping over him. And if the Scientific Humanist to the day +of his death forgets the sight of those two poor true women jigging on +their wretched hearts to calm the child, he must have very little of the +human in him. + +There was no more sleep for Raynham that night. + + + + +CHAPTER XLV + + +"His ordeal is over. I have just come from his room and seen him bear +the worst that could be. Return at once--he has asked for you. I can +hardly write intelligibly, but I will tell you what we know. + +"Two days after the dreadful night when he left us, his father heard from +Ralph Morton. Richard had fought a duel in France with Lord Mountfalcon, +and was lying wounded at a hamlet on the coast. His father started +immediately with his poor wife, and I followed in company with his aunt +and his child. The wound was not dangerous. He was shot in the side +somewhere, but the ball injured no vital part. We thought all would be +well. Oh! how sick I am of theories, and Systems, and the pretensions of +men! There was his son lying all but dead, and the man was still +unconvinced of the folly he had been guilty of. I could hardly bear the +sight of his composure. I shall hate the name of Science till the day I +die. Give me nothing but commonplace unpretending people! + +"They were at a wretched French cabaret, smelling vilely, where we still +remain, and the people try as much as they can do to compensate for our +discomforts by their kindness. The French poor people are very +considerate where they see suffering. I will say that for them. The +doctors had not allowed his poor Lucy to go near him. She sat outside +his door, and none of us dared disturb her. That was a sight for +Science. His father and myself, and Mrs. Berry, were the only ones +permitted to wait on him, and whenever we came out, there she sat, not +speaking a word--for she had been told it would endanger his life--but +she looked such awful eagerness. She had the sort of eye I fancy mad +persons have. I was sure her reason was going. We did everything we +could think of to comfort her. A bed was made up for her and her meals +were brought to her there. Of course there was no getting her to eat. +What do you suppose his alarm was fixed on? He absolutely said to me-- +but I have not patience to repeat his words. He thought her to blame for +not commanding herself for the sake of her maternal duties. He had +absolutely an idea of insisting that she should make an effort to suckle +the child. I shall love that Mrs. Berry to the end of my days. I really +believe she has twice the sense of any of us--Science and all. She asked +him plainly if he wished to poison the child, and then he gave way, but +with a bad grace. + +"Poor man! perhaps I am hard on him. I remember that you said Richard +had done wrong. Yes; well, that may be. But his father eclipsed his +wrong in a greater wrong--a crime, or quite as bad; for if he deceived +himself in the belief that he was acting righteously in separating +husband and wife, and exposing his son as he did, I can only say that +there are some who are worse than people who deliberately commit crimes. +No doubt Science will benefit by it. They kill little animals for the +sake of Science. + +"We have with us Doctor Bairam, and a French physician from Dieppe, a +very skilful man. It was he who told us where the real danger lay. We +thought all would be well. A week had passed, and no fever supervened. +We told Richard that his wife was coming to him, and he could bear to +hear it. I went to her and began to circumlocute, thinking she listened +--she had the same eager look. When I told her she might go in with me +to see her dear husband, her features did not change. M. Despres, who +held her pulse at the time, told me, in a whisper, it was cerebral fever +--brain fever coming on. We have talked of her since. I noticed that +though she did not seem to understand me, her bosom heaved, and she +appeared to be trying to repress it, and choke something. I am sure now, +from what I know of her character, that she--even in the approaches of +delirium--was preventing herself from crying out. Her last hold of +reason was a thought for Richard. It was against a creature like this +that we plotted! I have the comfort of knowing that I did my share in +helping to destroy her. Had she seen her husband a day or two before-- +but no! there was a new System to interdict that! Or had she not so +violently controlled her nature as she did, I believe she might have been +saved. + +"He said once of a man, that his conscience was a coxcomb. Will you +believe that when he saw his son's wife--poor victim! lying delirious, he +could not even then see his error. You said he wished to take Providence +out of God's hands. His mad self-deceit would not leave him. I am +positive, that while he was standing over her, he was blaming her for not +having considered the child. Indeed he made a remark to me that it was +unfortunate 'disastrous,' I think he said--that the child should have to +be fed by hand. I dare say it is. All I pray is that this young child +may be saved from him. I cannot bear to see him look on it. He does not +spare himself bodily fatigue--but what is that? that is the vulgarest +form of love. I know what you will say. You will say I have lost all +charity, and I have. But I should not feel so, Austin, if I could be +quite sure that he is an altered man even now the blow has struck him. +He is reserved and simple in his speech, and his grief is evident, but I +have doubts. He heard her while she was senseless call him cruel and +harsh, and cry that she had suffered, and I saw then his mouth contract +as if he had been touched. Perhaps, when he thinks, his mind will be +clearer, but what he has done cannot be undone. I do not imagine he will +abuse women any more. The doctor called her a 'forte et belle jeune +femme:' and he said she was as noble a soul as ever God moulded clay +upon. A noble soul 'forte et belle!' She lies upstairs. If he can look +on her and not see his sin, I almost fear God will never enlighten him." + +She died five days after she had been removed. The shock had utterly +deranged her. I was with her. She died very quietly, breathing her last +breath without pain--asking for no one--a death I should like to die. + +"Her cries at one time were dreadfully loud. She screamed that she was +'drowning in fire,' and that her husband would not come to her to save +her. We deadened the sound as much as we could, but it was impossible to +prevent Richard from hearing. He knew her voice, and it produced an +effect like fever on him. Whenever she called he answered. You could +not hear them without weeping. Mrs. Berry sat with her, and I sat with +him, and his father moved from one to the other. + +"But the trial for us came when she was gone. How to communicate it to +Richard--or whether to do so at all! His father consulted with us. We +were quite decided that it would be madness to breathe it while he was in +that state. I can admit now--as things have turned out--we were wrong. +His father left us--I believe he spent the time in prayer--and then +leaning on me, he went to Richard, and said in so many words, that his +Lucy was no more. I thought it must kill him. He listened, and smiled. +I never saw a smile so sweet and so sad. He said he had seen her die, as +if he had passed through his suffering a long time ago. He shut his +eyes. I could see by the motion of his eyeballs up that he was straining +his sight to some inner heaven.--I cannot go on. + +"I think Richard is safe. Had we postponed the tidings, till he came to +his clear senses, it must have killed him. His father was right for +once, then. But if he has saved his son's body, he has given the death- +blow to his heart. Richard will never be what he promised. + +"A letter found on his clothes tells us the origin of the quarrel. I +have had an interview with Lord M. this morning. I cannot say I think +him exactly to blame: Richard forced him to fight. At least I do not +select him the foremost for blame. He was deeply and sincerely affected +by the calamity he has caused. Alas! he was only an instrument. Your +poor aunt is utterly prostrate and talks strange things of her daughter's +death. She is only happy in drudging. Dr. Bairam says we must under any +circumstances keep her employed. Whilst she is doing something, she can +chat freely, but the moment her hands are not occupied she gives me an +idea that she is going into a fit. + +"We expect the dear child's uncle to-day. Mr. Thompson is here. I have +taken him upstairs to look at her. That poor young man has a true heart. + +"Come at once. You will not be in time to see her. She will lie at +Raynham. If you could you would see an angel. He sits by her side for +hours. I can give you no description of her beauty. + +"You will not delay, I know, dear Austin, and I want you, for your +presence will make me more charitable than I find it possible to be. +Have you noticed the expression in the eyes of blind men? That is just +how Richard looks, as he lies there silent in his bed--striving to image +her on his brain." + +THE END + + +ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: + +A maker of Proverbs--what is he but a narrow mind wit +Feeling, nothing beyond a lively interest in her well-being +Further she read, "Which is the coward among us?" +Gentleman who does so much 'cause he says so little +Hermits enamoured of wind and rain +Heroine, in common with the hero, has her ambition to be of use +I rather like to hear a woman swear. It embellishes her! +I beg of my husband, and all kind people who may have the care +Intensely communicative, but inarticulate +Just bad inquirin' too close among men +January was watering and freezing old earth by turns +South-western Island has few attractions to other than invalids +Take 'em somethin' like Providence--as they come +Task of reclaiming a bad man is extremely seductive to good women +This was a totally different case from the antecedent ones + + + + +End of this Project Gutenberg Etext of Ordeal Richard Feverel, v6 +by George Meredith + + + + + + +ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS, RICHARD FEVEREL, COMPLETE: + +A woman who has mastered sauces sits on the apex of civilization +A style of affable omnipotence about the wise youth +A maker of Proverbs--what is he but a narrow mind wit +A young philosopher's an old fool! +After five years of marriage, and twelve of friendship +Although it blew hard when Caesar crossed the Rubicon +Among boys there are laws of honour and chivalrous codes +An edge to his smile that cuts much like a sneer +And so Farewell my young Ambition! and with it farewell all true +And to these instructions he gave an aim: "First be virtuous" +As when nations are secretly preparing for war +Behold the hero embarked in the redemption of an erring beauty +Cold charity to all +Come prepared to be not very well satisfied with anything +Complacent languor of the wise youth +Feeling, nothing beyond a lively interest in her well-being +Further she read, "Which is the coward among us?" +Gentleman who does so much 'cause he says so little +Habit had legalized his union with her +Hermits enamoured of wind and rain +Hero embarked in the redemption of an erring beautiful woman +Heroine, in common with the hero, has her ambition to be of use +His equanimity was fictitious +His fancy performed miraculous feats +How many instruments cannot clever women play upon +Huntress with few scruples and the game unguarded +I rather like to hear a woman swear. It embellishes her! +I beg of my husband, and all kind people who may have the care +I ain't a speeder of matrimony +I cannot get on with Gibbon +In our House, my son, there is peculiar blood. We go to wreck! +In Sir Austin's Note-book was written: "Between Simple Boyhood..." +Intensely communicative, but inarticulate +It was his ill luck to have strong appetites and a weak stomach +It is no use trying to conceal anything from him +It was now, as Sir Austin had written it down, The Magnetic Age +January was watering and freezing old earth by turns +Just bad inquirin' too close among men +Laying of ghosts is a public duty +Minutes taken up by the grey puffs from their mouths +No! Gentlemen don't fling stones; leave that to the blackguards +On the threshold of Puberty, there is one Unselfish Hour +Opened a wider view of the world to him, and a colder +Our most diligent pupil learns not so much as an earnest teacher +Rogue on the tremble of detection +Rumour for the nonce had a stronger spice of truth than usual +Seed-Time passed thus smoothly, and adolescence came on +Serene presumption +She can make puddens and pies +South-western Island has few attractions to other than invalids +Take 'em somethin' like Providence--as they come +Task of reclaiming a bad man is extremely seductive to good women +The Pilgrim's Scrip remarks that: Young men take joy in nothing +The world is wise in its way +The danger of a little knowledge of things is disputable +The born preacher we feel instinctively to be our foe +There is for the mind but one grasp of happiness +They believe that the angels have been busy about them +This was a totally different case from the antecedent ones +Those days of intellectual coxcombry +Threats of prayer, however, that harp upon their sincerity +To be passive in calamity is the province of no woman +Troublesome appendages of success +Unaccustomed to have his will thwarted +Who rises from Prayer a better man, his prayer is answered +Wise in not seeking to be too wise +Woman will be the last thing civilized by Man +Women are swift at coming to conclusions in these matters +Yet, though Angels smile, shall not Devils laugh +You've got no friend but your bed +Young as when she looked upon the lovers in Paradise + + + + +End of this Project Gutenberg Etext Ordeal Richard Feverel, complete +by George Meredith + diff --git a/old/gm18v10.zip b/old/gm18v10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9d97350 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/gm18v10.zip |