Inchbracken: The Story of a Fama Clamosa

by Robert Cleland

  CHAPTER XXI.

  _CIRCE_.

  On Monday morning Mr. Wallowby was the first to appear in thebreakfast-room,--an unusual circumstance. There was meditation in thenoiseless tread of his slippered feet, and he rubbed his handsthoughtfully, one over the other. So, a reflective cat will softlymove her paws and undulate her tail, while she is planning her nextraid on a neighbouring mouse hole. His enquiries after Peter's healthwere solicitous and tender, and the regret and disappointment at hisbeing still confined to his room, perhaps excessive, considering hisstrong recommendations over-night, that the patient should keep hisbed altogether next day, and, by making a regular lay up of it, getwell the sooner. He asked Mr. Sangster to lend him a horse and trap todrive over to Inchbracken, still lamenting Peter's indisposition anddeploring the necessity of having to go alone, but persistently deafto the suggestion that he should wait a day or two till Peter gotbetter.

  The trap was ordered round as desired, the old gentleman beingthankful that in default of Peter's help the guest should take hisamusement into his own hands, and not fall back on him, JamesSangster, who had been resignedly counting on a day of self-sacrificeand boredom in the young man's company. He would have yielded the dayfreely enough, and submitted to the boredom with a fair grace, but hefeared the young man would be as much bored as himself; and that,somehow, he did not relish. We are all of us so accustomed to beingbored by our fellows, that none but the very young think ofcomplaining, but that our fellows might be bored with us, is asuggestion our self-love would rather not entertain. Mrs. Sangster didnot approve the idea; she would have had Peter go to consolidate hisintimacy with the county magnates, and what could it possibly matterto Wallowby? she thought. She proposed a postponement, but Wallowbywas already deep in a discussion of the relative merits of Hungarianrye-grass and timothy with her spouse, and so continued not to hear.

  The hour arrived, so likewise did the trap, and Mr. Wallowby issuedfrom his chamber glorious as a sunbeam. He had dressed himself withthe greatest care, and he really looked very well, if only he couldhave run against somebody or something, so as to derange the get-up insome slight degree, and make the whole more human. He was ofsufficient stature, and his face was well enough, if a trifle vacant;so that in this faultless array, without crease or plait or pucker, heresembled one of the figures in a tailor's fashion plate considerablymore than a gentleman of the period. Mrs. Sangster met him on thestairs and was vastly impressed. She would have liked Sophia to seehim; but, alas! that could be managed only by peeping from behind ablind, for Sophia herself was still the victim of catarrh, and forcedto remain invisible.

  Reaching Inchbracken, Mr. Wallowby was received by Julia. LadyCaroline had not yet left her room, but sent word that she hoped tosee him at luncheon, and the gentlemen were from home. It was Julia'sacquaintance, however, which he had already made; and as the otherlady was to appear later, he resigned himself with perfectsatisfaction to be entertained by that agreeable person. They walkedabout the grounds admiring the broad sweep of the lake, which, lappinground Inchbracken on three sides, swept far away into the shadow ofthe overhanging hills. Mr. Wallowby was charmed to discover in himselfa remarkably just appreciation of scenery, which he had never beforebeen conscious of possessing; but then he was not sure that it hadever before fallen to his lot to have it so well called forth, or tohave met so appreciative a companion. It was quite remarkable and verypleasant to find on how many subjects their opinion exactly agreed,not on scenery only, for that was not a theme to last long, butin general views of life and society, even politics and religion,though these, as heavy matters, were only glanced at in passing; 'butit is so pleasant to meet with a woman capable of understanding one onsuch higher and more masculine subjects,' at least so thought Mr.Wallowby.

  Julia was a wily sportswoman. She had often heard Captain Johndescribe the method of tickling a trout, and here was a gudgeon whomshe was minded to try her hand on, and capture, if possible, by thatdelicate process. Wallowby opened out and spread himself in the blandwarmth of her approving smiles, like a very sunflower. He had trulynever before realised what a remarkably fine fellow he was, and therevelation was delightful; and so, too, in consequence, was the fairprophetess who had disclosed it. Loch Gorton was fine, no doubt, andso too were the purple shadows slumbering among the hills beyond; butwhat were these in comparison to the heights and depths, longconcealed under mists of modest diffidence, in the wondrous soul ofAugustus Wallowby? The man fairly shimmered like a moonlit fountain,with coruscations of self-surprising wit and gratified vanity, whileCirce cooed genially in response, still leading him onward into deeperquagmires of idiocy. Through gardens and shrubberies she led the way,and he followed closely behind, with ears laid luxuriatingly back; asthe donkey whose poll has been deftly scratched will rub himself upagainst his new found friend, and court a continuance of thetitillating process. Julia was actually discomposed by the rapidity ofher success. Had she been in fun it would have been amusing, but shewas a practical woman who meant business and a settlement for herself,so she feared to proceed too fast. Too speedy an inflation applied toso little solid substance might burst it, like a glass blower's freak,in a shower of spangles, to the mere idle glorification of the manhimself; whereas if there was to be glass blowing, it was a usefulgoblet for _her_ that was wanted. To change the tune, therefore, shenow led the way to the old square tower overtopping the shrubbery,which was all that remained of the ancient family residence. Here alarger share of the conversation devolved on herself, Scotchantiquities and history being altogether unfamiliar to her Southernfriend. He listened, however, with respectful interest to her accountof the early Drysdales. When a man is uncertain who may have been hisown grandfather, or whether such a person ever existed, there issomething impressive in the long line of progenitors claimed by otherpeople, and their certainty as to the possession. Here among thecrumbling walls they once inhabited, it was impossible to doubt aboutthem,--a very legion of haughty shadows who had once ruled thesurrounding country,--or not to feel a positive reverence for theirsurviving representative. This train of thought naturally led to LadyCaroline, and as Julia phrased it, 'my Cousin, Lord Pitthevlis.' Inthe presence of that noble house the pretensions of the Drysdalesdwindled considerably,--came down almost within reach, as it were, ofMr. Wallowby's unhistoric self; and yet this magnificent family werecousins of the engaging maiden who stood before him and discoursed sograciously of their grandeur. It was a delightful idea to realize, andhe endeavoured to bring it well within his grasp, by desiring to knowthe precise degree of cousinship. She replied that the relationshipwas through George, the thirteenth Earl. It appeared to be difficultto particularize very exactly. An honourable Cornelius somebody, and aLady Mary somebody else, besides other important people, had all beenimplicated some generations back in Miss Finlayson's introduction onthis sublunary scene; 'but Lord Pitthevlis always calls me cousin, andso do the rest of the family, so of course it is so,' she concluded,and Wallowby was satisfied. There was apparently no prospect of herever being a countess in her own right, but she was evidently veryhighly connected, so that when she died, her husband would be able toput up a hatchment with eight quarterings in front of his house; andMr. Wallowby actually called up in his mind's eye a momentary visionof his own residence in the outskirts of Manchester so adorned, justto see how it would look. Poor man! I fear he was far gone.

  "Through gardens and shrubberies she led the way." Page162.]

  During those few minutes when the lady left him in the morning room,while she went to remove her bonnet before luncheon, he drew a longbreath and asked himself, 'could it be that at last he really was inlove?' A long train of captives passed through his memory, thesupposed victims of his fascinations--or his fortune, was it? But whatwere any of them to this incomparable person? So elegant, soaccomplished, and so appreciative! It seemed very sudden; but then,was not love at first sight the truest, the best, the highest form ofthat del
ightful emotion? And was not the attraction mutual? With hislong and intimate knowledge of the sex, _he_ knew all the signs. Hewas sure of that, and could not be mistaken in this case. He wasindeed a sad rogue, so he told himself. He could not help that, but hefelt for the poor girl in a serene and benevolent sort of way, andresolved that she should not sigh in vain. Yet he must be circumspectand do nothing precipitate! Although he was to return to England inthree days' time, and could not without making explanations to aninquisitive world come again to see her; that was a matter he mustbreak to her gently, and he would ask leave to correspond with her.Meanwhile he must practise reserve--veil his radiance somewhat,lest the poor child should be reduced to a heap of ashes--anotherSemele--before the fitting time for a proposal had arrived. So far hisreflections had got, as he stood looking from the windows, and pullingout the corners of his whiskers to their extremest length, when he wasinterrupted by a summons to luncheon.

  In the dining-room the ladies were already seated, one being LadyCaroline whom he had not yet seen; and whether it was merely thepresence of a third person, or the silent claim of superiority on thepart of that lady, the atmosphere appeared to have undergone a change.Life was no longer a river at high tide rolling to a triumphal marchfrom 'the Caliph of Bagdad,' but a very ordinary stream indeed, oozingalong between monotonous banks, over a flat and muddy bottom. Insteadof a prized and congenial friend, he was now reduced to the part ofstranger, and rather an unknown stranger too. Lady Caroline led theconversation as was her wont, but more interrogatively, and less as anexclusive monologue than when addressing persons with whom she wasbetter acquainted. Having been called on to express his admiration forScotland and the Scotch, on this his first visit to the country, hewas next asked if he had been induced to attend any of the open-airconventicles which his friends so much affected, and how he likedthem. He said he had been at one, and that it was a picturesquegathering in a stagy sort of way, and something very different fromanything he had ever seen before.

  'I should think so,' said Lady Caroline; 'it seems to me a species ofmadness which has fallen upon the people. I wonder the authorities donot put it down, for it is utterly subversive of order, and all goodgovernment. I feel quite ashamed whenever I hear of it coming underthe notice of people from another country. They must form so strangean opinion of us. If you spend another Sunday in the neighbourhood youmust persuade your friends to send you over to the parish church. Itis not far from here.'

  Mr. Wallowby replied that he would be returning to England beforeanother Sunday came round. 'But I was not aware,' he added, 'thatthere were any but Presbyterian chapels for many miles round here. Ifelt compunction about attending the ministrations of an unordainedperson, it seemed to me so much a burlesque on the offices ofreligion, but I was told that except in towns and a very few countryplaces far north, there are no clergymen in Scotland at all. And yetthe Scotch claim to be very religious. I did not know before thatpeople could be religious without church or parson, and now I haveseen it I do not like it.'

  'Yes! English people are all alike! They insist upon choosing forthemselves, and having done so, they would impose their choice uponeverybody else. That is not so bad perhaps when they stick to theold-fashioned ways--in my young days we all got on most comfortablytogether; but now when they have adopted so many new notions,apostolical succession for instance, which we never used to hear of,it seems a trifle unreasonable that people who have so much difficultyin knowing their own views should expect others to accept them too.For myself, I find the Act of Parliament and the law of the land thebest religious director, and wherever I live I mean to conform to theEstablished Church of the country--always excepting France, and Inever will live there. I have not forgot yet how we used to bethreatened with Popery and wooden shoes if ever the French should landupon our shores. Now, the English Church people are dissenters inScotland, just as Presbyterians are in England. But I hate the veryname of dissenter, as of all disloyalty, and therefore I attend theEnglish Church when in England, just as I do the Scotch in Scotland.'

  'But if the ministers of the Scotch form of worship are not priests,how can they constitute a Church? That is my difficulty.'

  'The Act of Settlement says that they do, and there is no going behindthe law of the land. The Archbishop of Paris probably does notconsider the Archbishop of Canterbury a priest, or able to constitutea Church; but no Englishman would be worth his salt who cared for whata Frenchman said. As for the clergy in different countries, they areall most excellent people, but they require a Queen Elizabeth or somesuch person to keep them in their own place. They are all, priests andpresbyters alike, inclined to be meddlesome and tyrannical; and if wewould only let them, they would rule us with a rod of iron. I am quitefamiliar with your prejudices, and even respect them, so far; mybrother Pitthevlis is a Scotch Episcopalian, and I was so brought upmyself, but I fear I must say they are a little narrow, and too likeyour own new disturbers (Puseyites, you call them, I think), ever tobe possible as a national Church.'

  Mr. Wallowby bridled slightly. He thought he was a Puseyitehimself, and had great scorn for the Low Church party; but in thosepre-ritualistic days his High Churchism was, like most other laymen's,little more than a taste for illuminated windows, surpliced choirs,intoned prayers, and a musical service; and that rather on account ofits 'swellness,' than as a means of edification; and he would havebeen as prompt as any Low Churchman to cry out 'Popery' against themodern developments. Thirty years have passed since then, and manythings have changed. Mr. Wallowby had raised his head to do battle forhis faith, but meanwhile Lady Caroline had meandered on to otherthemes, so what he might have said can never be known.

  The chicken, the salad, and the toast were at length consumed. Allrose from table, and Augustus felt that it was time for him towithdraw. Julia accompanied him to the door, there was some low-tonedconversation, and he was gone.

  'Well! my dear Julia,' said Lady Caroline, 'I do not know what Ishould do without your kind good-nature, to take the bores off myhands. It must be between three and four hours since that misguidedman arrived, and you have been with him all the time! Does your headache?'

  'Oh no, dear Lady Caroline, I have got through the visit verypleasantly. He does not talk so much as to weary one, and yet he hasplenty to say.'

  'Ah? Then I may save my condolences. So much the better! He strikes meas being almost good-looking, if he were only a gentleman, and notquite so tightly buttoned into his clothes. Men laugh at women'stightlacing, but how they endure all these wisps of muslin round theirthroats I cannot think. And I am sure they are quite as ridiculous.'

  'I thought Mr. Wallowby dressed rather nicely; and as to hismanners--of course he has never gone into society, and he is not theleast like a guardsman; but then he has never had the chance to seeone. And, who knows? he may have a son in the army at least, perhapseven a field-marshal, or a Lord-Chancellor, for I hear he is veryrich, and even the greatest families must have a first man, orperhaps, as you would say, the man before that.'

  'Julia, my dear, you are a philosopher! The gentleman must have merit,or he would not have won over my critical young cousin so soon. He isrich you say?'

  'Yes, Lady Caroline. Miss Brown, who was living with the Sangsterssays he is very rich; and it would be too absurd in a penniless girllike me to be critical and fastidious in judging a man of hissubstantial fortune.'

  'Fastidious! my dear? Then there is a chance of his being submitted toyour approval?'

  Julia coloured. 'Indeed Lady Caroline, it is so hard for a girl tosay. But if you will not think me absurd, I almost fancy there mightperhaps be a possibility of something like that.'

  'Ah, then, my dear, that alters the question altogether. I have nodaughter of my own, and there is no one whose settlement in life Ihave more nearly at heart than yours. Confide in me, child! I haveevery wish to be a mother to you.'

  Julia kissed her hand very sweetly. 'I shall find out all about him,'continued the old lady, through old MacSiccar, and you ma
y trust menot to compromise you in any way. If his circumstances aresatisfactory, it might probably be a very judicious step on your part;One cannot have everything you know; but enough to live upon is athing it is impossible to do without. And as to the rest, under yourguidance, I see no reason why he should not make a perfectlypresentable figure in society. I am sure you will make an admirableand attached wife, whoever you marry; but marrying for love, insteadof with it, as every good girl of course will, often turns out to be amistake. You know, my dear, I was not very young myself when Imarried, and a few years earlier I was very nearly doing somethingfoolish of that kind. The gentleman had high rank and was really verycharming; but my dear papa discovered the unsuitableness of theconnection in time, and though I was really infatuated, he carried usall down to Pitthevlis, and kept us there for two years. In themeantime, what papa expected occurred, the gentleman ruined himself.His property was put under trustees, and he himself has been living atBoulogne and such places ever since, on the few hundreds a yearallowed by his creditors. I shudder sometimes when I think hownarrowly I escaped----. Shortly after that my dear General cameforward, and I need not say how thankful I am that I was saved from myearlier folly. Rank and position are most desirable things, but asolid income is indispensable. There are so many girls now, too, andthe men have grown so mercenary, that a girl without fortune or atitle cannot look for more than a younger son, which is merely a sortof decent dependence on the family, and often a most painful position.So my dear,' added the old lady, who had been gradually warming underher own eloquence, 'I wish you every success, always provided the_parti_ should prove worthy your acceptance,' and thereupon she rose,and bending over Julia, kissed her on the forehead, like a fairygodmother, or some other superior spirit, animated by the mostbeneficent intentions. She was thinking that if Kenneth should marryand settle down at Inchbracken, as his father desired, a third lady inthe household would be one too many.