CHAPTER VII.
MRS. DEMIJOHN'S PARTY.
Mrs. Demijohn presents her compliments to Mr. Crocker, and begs the honour of his company to tea at nine o'clock on Wednesday, 31st of December, to see the New Year in.
R.I.V.P. (Do come, C. D.)
10, Paradise Row, Holloway. 29th December, 18--.
This note was delivered to Crocker on his arrival at his office onthe morning of Saturday, the 27th.
It must be explained that Crocker had lately made the acquaintanceof Miss Clara Demijohn without any very formal introduction. Crocker,with that determination which marked his character, in pursuit of theone present purport of his mind to effect a friendly reconciliationwith George Roden, had taken himself down to Holloway, and had calledat No. 11, thinking that he might induce his friend's mother to acton his behalf in a matter appertaining to peace and charity. Mrs.Roden had unhappily been from home, but he had had the good fortuneto encounter Miss Demijohn. Perhaps it was that she had seen himgoing in and out of the house, and had associated him with thegreat mystery of the young nobleman; perhaps she had been simplyattracted by the easy air with which he cocked his hat and swung hisgloves;--or, perhaps it was simply chance. But so it was that in thegloom of the evening she met him just round the corner opposite tothe "Duchess of Edinburgh," and the happy acquaintance was commenced.No doubt, as in all such cases, it was the gentleman who spoke first.Let us, at any rate, hope so for the sake of Paradise Row generally.Be that as it may, before many minutes were over she had explainedto him that Mrs. Roden had gone out in a cab soon after dinner, andthat probably something was up at Wimbledon, as Mrs. Roden neverwent anywhere else, and this was not the day of the week on whichher visits to Mrs. Vincent were generally made. Crocker, who wassimplicity itself, soon gave her various details as to his owncharacter and position in life. He, too, was a clerk in the PostOffice, and was George Roden's particular friend. "Oh, yes; heknew all about Lord Hampstead, and was, he might say, intimatelyacquainted with his lordship. He had been in the habit of meeting hislordship at Castle Hautboy, the seat of his friend, Lord Persiflage,and had often ridden with his lordship in the hunting-field. He knewall about Lady Frances and the engagement, and had had the pleasureof making the acquaintance of her ladyship. He had been correspondinglately with Lord Hampstead on the subject. No;--he had not as yetheard anything of Marion Fay, the Quaker's daughter. Then Clarahad something to say on her side. She quite understood that if sheexpected to be communicated with, she also must communicate; andmoreover, young Mr. Crocker was by his age, appearance, and sex,just such a one as prompted her to be communicative without loss ofself-respect. What was the good of telling things to Mrs. Duffer, whowas only an old widow without any friends, and with very small meansof existence? She had communicated her secrets to Mrs. Duffer simplyfrom want of a better pair of ears into which she could pour them.But here was one in telling secrets to whom she could take delight,and who had secrets of his own to give in return. It is not to besupposed that the friendship which arose grew from the incidents ofone meeting only. On that first evening Crocker could not leave thefair one without making arrangements for a further interview, and sothe matter grew. The intimacy between them was already of three days'standing when the letter of invitation above given reached Crocker'shands. To tell the very truth, the proposed party was made up chieflyfor Crocker's sake. What is the good of having a young man if youcannot show him to your friends?
"Crocker!" said Mrs. Demijohn to her niece; "where did you pick upCrocker?"
"What questions you do ask, aunt! Pick him up, indeed!"
"So you have--; picked him up, as you're always a doing with youngmen. Only you never know how to keep 'em when you've got 'em."
"I declare, aunt, your vulgarity is unbearable."
"I'm not going to have any Crocker in my house," said the old woman,"unless I know where he comes from. Perhaps he's a counter-skipper.He may be a ticket-of-leave man for all you know."
"Aunt Jemima, you're so provoking that I sometimes think I shall haveto leave you."
"Where will you go to, my dear?"
To this question, which had often been asked before, Clara thought itunnecessary to make any answer; but returned at once to the inquirieswhich were not unnaturally made by the lady who stood to her in theplace of a mother. "Mr. Crocker, Aunt Jemima, is a clerk in thePost Office, who sits at the same desk with George Roden, and isintimately acquainted both with Lord Hampstead and with Lady FrancesTrafford. He used to be George Roden's bosom friend; but there haslately been some little tiff between the young men, which wouldbe so pleasant if we could make it up. You have got to a speakingacquaintance with Mrs. Roden, and perhaps if you will ask themthey'll come. I am sure Marion Fay will come, because you always getyour money from Pogson and Littlebird. I wish I had the cheek to askLord Hampstead." Having heard all this, the old lady consented toreceive our sporting friend from the Post Office, and also assentedto the other invitations, which were given.
Crocker, of course, sent his compliments, and expressed the greatpleasure he would have in "seeing the New Year in" in company withMrs. Demijohn. As the old lady was much afflicted with rheumatism,the proposition as coming from her would have been indiscreet had shenot known that her niece on such occasions was well able to act asher deputy. Mrs. Roden also promised to come, and with difficultypersuaded her son that it would be gracious on his part to be so farcivil to his neighbours. Had he known that Crocker also would bethere he certainly would not have yielded; but Crocker, when at theoffice, kept the secret of his engagement to himself. The Quaker alsoand Marion Fay were to be there. Mr. Fay and Mrs. Demijohn had longknown each other in regard to matters of business, and he, for thesake of Messrs. Pogson and Littlebird's firm, could not refuse todrink a cup of tea at their client's house. A junior clerk from thesame counting-house, one Daniel Tribbledale by name, with whom Clarahad made acquaintance at King's Court some two years since, wasalso to be of the party. Mr. Tribbledale had at one time, among allClara's young men, been the favourite. But circumstances had occurredwhich had somewhat lessened her goodwill towards him. Mr. Littlebirdhad quarrelled with him, and he had been refused promotion. It wasgenerally supposed at the present time in the neighbourhood of OldBroad Street that Daniel Tribbledale was languishing for the love ofClara Demijohn. Mrs. Duffer, of course, was to be there, and so thelist of friends for the festive occasion was completed.
Mrs. Duffer was the first to come. Her aid, indeed, was required forthe cutting up of the cakes and arrangements of the cups and saucers.The Quaker and his daughter were next, appearing exactly at nineo'clock,--to do which he protested to be the best sign of goodmanners that could be shown. "If they want me at ten, why do theyask me at nine?" demanded the Quaker. Marion was forced to give way,though she was by no means anxious to spend a long evening in companywith Mrs. Demijohn. As to that seeing of the New Year in, it wasquite out of the question for the Quaker or for his daughter. Thecompany altogether came early. The only touch of fashion evincedon this occasion was shown by Mr. Crocker. The Rodens, with Mr.Tribbledale at their heels, appeared not long after Mr. Fay, andthen the demolition of the Sally Lunns was commenced. "I declare Ithink he means to deceive us," whispered Clara to her friend, Mrs.Duffer, when all the good tea had been consumed before the young manappeared. "I don't suppose he cares much for tea," said Mrs. Duffer;"they don't now-a-days." "It isn't just for the tea that a manis expected to come," said Clara, indignantly. It was now nearlyten, and she could not but feel that the evening was going heavily.Tribbledale had said one tender word to her; but she had snubbed him,expecting Crocker to be there almost at once, and he had retiredsilent into a corner. George Roden had altogether declined to makehimself agreeable--to her; but as he was an engaged man, and engagedto a lady of rank, much could not be expected of him. Mrs. Rodenand the Quaker and Mrs. Demijohn did manage to keep up somethingof conversation. Roden from time to time said a few words toMarion. Clara, who was repenting herself of her hardness
to youngTribbledale, was forced to put up with Mrs. Duffer. When suddenlythere came a thundering knock at the door, and Mr. Crocker wasannounced by the maid, who had been duly instructed beforehand as toall peculiarities in the names of the guests.
There was a little stir, as there always is when a solitary guestcomes in much after the appointed time. Of course there wasrebuke,--suppressed rebuke from Mrs. Demijohn, mild rebuke from Mrs.Duffer, a very outburst of rebuke from Clara. But Crocker was up tothe occasion. "Upon my word, ladies, I had no help for it. I wasdining with a few friends in the City, and I couldn't get awayearlier. If my own ideas of happiness had been consulted I shouldhave been here an hour ago. Ah, Roden, how are you? Though I know youlive in the same street, I didn't think of meeting you." Roden gavehim a nod, but did not vouchsafe him a word. "How's his lordship? Itold you, didn't I, that I had heard from him the other day?" Crockerhad mentioned more than once at his office the fact that he hadreceived a letter from Lord Hampstead.
"I don't often see him, and very rarely hear from him," said Roden,without turning away from Marion to whom he was at the momentspeaking.
"If all our young noblemen were like Hampstead," said Crocker, whohad told the truth in declaring that he had been dining, "Englandwould be a very different sort of place from what it is. The mostaffable young lord that ever sat in the House of Peers." Then heturned himself towards Marion Fay, at whose identity he made a guess.He was anxious at once to claim her as a mutual friend, as connectedwith himself by her connection with the lord in question. But ashe could find no immediate excuse for introducing himself, he onlywinked at her.
"Are you acquainted with Mr. Tribbledale, Mr. Crocker?" asked Clara.
"Never had the pleasure as yet," said Crocker. Then the introductionwas effected. "In the Civil Service?" asked Crocker. Tribbledaleblushed, and of necessity repudiated the honour. "I thought, perhaps,you were in the Customs. You have something of the H.M.S. cut aboutyou." Tribbledale acknowledged the compliment with a bow. "I thinkthe Service is the best thing a man can do with himself," continuedCrocker.
"It is genteel," said Mrs. Duffer.
"And the hours so pleasant," said Clara. "Bank clerks have always tobe there by nine."
"Is a young man to be afraid of that?" asked the Quaker, indignantly."Ten till four, with one hour for the newspapers and another forlunch. See the consequence. I never knew a young man yet from apublic office who understood the meaning of a day's work."
"I think that is a little hard," said Roden. "If a man really works,six hours continuously is as much as he can do with any good to hisemployers or himself."
"Well done, Roden," said Crocker. "Stick up for Her Majesty's shop."Roden turned himself more round than before, and continued to addresshimself to Marion.
"Our employers wouldn't think much of us," said the Quaker, "if wedidn't do better for them than that in private offices. I say thatthe Civil Service destroys a young man, and teaches him to think thatthe bread of idleness is sweet. As far as I can see, nothing is sodestructive of individual energy as what is called public money. IfDaniel Tribbledale would bestir himself he might do very well in theworld without envying any young man his seat either at the CustomHouse or the Post Office." Mr. Fay had spoken so seriously that theyall declined to carry that subject further. Mrs. Demijohn and Mrs.Duffer murmured their agreement, thinking it civil to do so, as theQuaker was a guest. Tribbledale sat silent in his corner, awestruckat the idea of having given rise to the conversation. Crocker winkedat Mrs. Demijohn, and thrust his hands into his pockets as much as tosay that he could get the better of the Quaker altogether if he choseto exercise his powers of wit and argument.
Soon after this Mr. Fay rose to take his daughter away. "But," saidClara, with affected indignation, "you are to see the Old Year outand the New Year in."
"I have seen enough of the one," said Mr. Fay, "and shall see enoughof the other if I live to be as near its close as I am to its birth."
"But there are refreshments coming up," said Mrs. Demijohn.
"I have refreshed myself sufficiently with thy tea, madam. I rarelytake anything stronger before retiring to my rest. Come, Marion, thourequirest to be at no form of welcoming the New Year. Thou, too, wiltbe better in thy bed, as thy duties call upon thee to be early." Sosaying, the Quaker bowed formally to each person present, and tookhis daughter out with him under his arm. Mrs. Roden and her sonescaped almost at the same moment, and Mrs. Demijohn, having waitedto take what she called just a thimbleful of hot toddy, went also toher rest.
"Here's a pretty way of seeing the New Year in," said Clara,laughing.
"We are quite enough of us for the purpose," said Crocker, "unless wealso are expected to go away." But as he spoke he mixed a tumbler ofbrandy and water, which he divided among two smaller glasses, handingthem to the two ladies present.
"I declare," said Mrs. Duffer, "I never do anything of thekind,--almost never."
"On such an occasion as this everybody does it," said Crocker.
"I hope Mr. Tribbledale will join us," said Clara. Then the bashfulclerk came out of his corner, and seating himself at the tableprepared to do as he was bid. He made his toddy very weak, notbecause he disliked brandy, but guided by an innate spirit of modestywhich prevented him always from going more than halfway when he wasin company.
Then the evening became very pleasant. "You are quite sure that he isreally engaged to her ladyship?" asked Clara.
"I wish I were as certainly engaged to you," replied the politeCrocker.
"What nonsense you do talk, Mr. Crocker;--and before other peopletoo. But you think he is?"
"I am sure of it. Both Hampstead and she have told me so muchthemselves out of their own mouths."
"My!" exclaimed Mrs. Duffer.
"And here's her brother engaged to Marion Fay," said Clara. Crockerdeclared that as to this he was by no means so well assured. LordHampstead in spite of their intimacy had told him nothing about it."But it is so, Mr. Crocker, as sure as ever you are sitting there. Hehas been coming here after her over and over again, and was closetedwith her only last Friday for hours. It was a holiday, but that slyold Quaker went out of the way, so as to leave them together. ThatMrs. Roden, though she's as stiff as buckram, knows all about it. Tothe best of my belief she got it all up. Marion Fay is with her everyday. It's my belief there's something we don't understand yet. She'sgot a hold of them young people, and means to do just what she likeswith 'em." Crocker, however, could not agree to this. He had heard ofLord Hampstead's peculiar politics, and was assured that the younglord was only carrying out his peculiar principles in selectingMarion Fay for himself and devoting his sister to George Roden.
"Not that I like that kind of thing, if you ask me," said Crocker."I'm very fond of Hampstead, and I've always found Lady Frances to bea pleasant and affable lady. I've no cause to speak other than civilof both of them. But when a man has been born a lord, and a lady alady--. A lady of that kind, Miss Demijohn."
"Oh, exactly;--titled you mean, Mr. Crocker?"
"Quite high among the nobs, you know. Hampstead will be a Marquissome of these days, which is next to a Duke."
"And do you know him,--yourself?" asked Tribbledale with a voice ofawe.
"Oh, yes," said Crocker.
"To speak to him when you see him?"
"I had a long correspondence with him about a week ago about a matterwhich interested both of us very much."
"And how does he address you?" asked Clara,--also with something ofawe.
"'Dear Crocker;'--just that. I always say 'My dear Lord Hampstead,'in return. I look upon 'Dear Hampstead,' as a little vulgar, youknow, and I always think that one ought to be particular in thesematters. But, as I was saying, when it comes to marriage, peopleought to be true to themselves. Now if I was a Marquis,--I don't knowwhat I mightn't do if I saw you, you know, Clara." "Clara" pouted,but did not appear to have been offended either by the compliment orby the familiarity. "But under any other circumstances less forcibleI would sti
ck to my order."
"So would I," said Mrs. Duffer. "Marquises ought to marry marquises,and dukes dukes."
"There it is!" said Clara, "and now we must drink its health, and Ihope we may be all married to them we like best before it comes roundagain." This had reference to the little clock on the mantelpiece,the hands of which had just crept round to twelve o'clock.
"I wish we might," said Crocker, "and have a baby in the cradle too."
"Go away," said Clara.
"That would be quick," said Mrs. Duffer. "What do you say, Mr.Tribbledale?"
"Where my heart's fixed," said Tribbledale, who was just becomingwarm with the brandy-and-water, "there ain't no hope for this year,nor yet for the one after." Whereupon Crocker remarked that "carekilled a cat."
"You just put on your coat and hat, and take me across to mylodgings. See if I don't give you a chance," said Mrs. Duffer, whowas also becoming somewhat merry under the influences of the moment.But she knew that it was her duty to do something for her younghostess, and, true woman as she was, thought that this was the bestway of doing it. Tribbledale did as he was bid, though he was obligedthus to leave his lady-love and her new admirer together. "Do youreally mean it?" said Clara, when she and Crocker were alone.
"Of course I do,--honest," said Crocker.
"Then you may," said Clara, turning her face to him.
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