_Chapter LI_
When Miss Marjoribanks had time to consider the prospect which had thusso suddenly opened before her, it also had its difficulties, likeeverything else in the world. Her marriage now could not be thestraightforward business it might have been had it been Mr Ashburtoninstead of Tom. In that case she would have gone to an established houseand life--to take her place in the one and her share in the other, andto find the greater part of her surroundings and duties already fixedfor her, which was a thing that would have very greatly simplified thematter. But Tom, who had dashed home from India at full speed as soon ashe heard of his uncle's death, had left his profession behind him atCalcutta, and had nothing to do in England, and was probably too old toresume his (non) practice at the bar, even if he had been in the leastdisposed to do so; while, at the same time, an idle man--a man to befound everlastingly at home--would have been insupportable to Lucilla.Miss Marjoribanks might feel disposed (for everybody's good) to assumethe sovereign authority in her own house, but to marry anybody thatwould be merely an appendage to her was a thing not to be thought of;and as soon as the first preliminaries were arranged her active mindsprang up with redoubled vigour from the maze in which it had been. Herintelligence had suspended, so to speak, all its ordinary operations fortwenty-four hours at least, while it was busy investigating the purelypersonal question: from the moment when the Member for Carlingford wasfinally elected until Tom Marjoribanks rang the night-bell at the oldDoctor's door, Lucilla's thoughts had been in that state ofover-stimulation and absorption which is almost as bad as having nopower of thought at all. But as soon as the pressure was removed--assoon as it was all over, and the decision made, and no further questionwas possible--then Miss Marjoribanks's active mind sprang up withrenewed energy. For it was not only a new beginning, but everything hadto be settled and arranged.
Her mind was full of it while her hands were busy putting away all theIndian presents which Tom had brought--presents which were chronologicalin their character, and which he had begun to accumulate from the verybeginning of his exile. It could not but be touching to Lucilla to seehow he had thought of her for all these years; but her mind being, aseverybody is aware, of a nobly practical kind, her thoughts, instead ofdallying with these tokens of the past, went forward with serioussolicitude into the future. The marriage could not take place until theyear was out; and there was, accordingly, time to arrange everything,and to settle all the necessary preliminaries to a point as nearperfection as is possible to merely human details. Tom, no doubt, wasvery urgent and pressing, and would have precipitated everything, andhad the whole business concluded to-morrow, if he could have had hisway. But the fact was that, having once given in to him in the memorableway which we have already recorded, Lucilla did not now, so far as thefinal arrangements were concerned, make much account of Tom's wishes.Heaven be praised, there was one of the two who knew what was right andproper, and was not to be moved from the correct path by any absurdrepresentations. Miss Marjoribanks was revolving all these importantquestions when she laid her hand by chance, as people say, upon the_Carlingford Gazette_, all damp and inky, which had just been laid uponthe library table. It contained, of course, all the news of theelection, but Lucilla was too well acquainted with that beforehand tothink of condescending to derive her information from a newspaper. Shelooked at the advertisements with an eye which saw all that was therewithout pausing upon anything in particular. She saw the usual noticeabout marmalade oranges, and the announcement that young Mr Vincent, whoafter that made himself so well known in Carlingford, was to preach thenext Sunday in Salem Chapel, and all the other important novelties inthe place; but naturally she took but a moderate amount of interest insuch details as these.
Suddenly, however, Lucilla's eye, which, if it could ever be said to bevacant, had been regarding vacantly the list of advertisements, kindledup, and all its usual energy and intelligence came back to it. Herthoughtful face woke up as from a dream. Her head, which had beendrooping in pensive meditation, grew erect--her whole figure expanded.She clasped her hands together, as if in the fervour of the moment,nobody else being present, she could not refrain from shaking hands withherself, and giving vent to a self-congratulation. "It is a specialprovidence," said Lucilla to herself, with her usual piety; and then shefolded up the paper in a little square, with the announcement in themiddle which had struck her so much, and placed it where Tom could notfail to see it when he came in, and went upstairs with a new anddefinite direction given to her thoughts. That was how it must be!Lucilla, for her part, felt no difficulty in discerning the leadings ofProvidence, and she could not but appreciate the readiness with whichher desires were attended to, and the prompt clearing-up of herdifficulties. There are people whose inclinations Providence does notseem to superintend with such painstaking watchfulness; but then, nodoubt, that must be their own fault.
And when Tom came in, they had what Aunt Jemima called "one of theirdiscussions" about their future life, although the only thing in itworthy consideration, so far as Tom was concerned, seemed to be the timewhen they should be married, which occupied at present all that hero'sfaculties. "Everything else will arrange itself after, you know," hesaid, with calm confidence. "Time enough for all the rest. The thing is,Lucilla, to decide when you will leave off those formalities, and let Itbe. Why shouldn't it be now? Do you think my uncle would wish to keep usunhappy all for an idea?"
"My dear Tom, I am not in the least unhappy," said Lucilla, interruptinghim sweetly, "nor you either, unless you tell dreadful stories; and asfor poor dear papa," Miss Marjoribanks added, with a sigh, "if we wereto do exactly as _he_ wished, I don't think It would ever be. If youwere not so foolish, you would not oblige me to say such things. Tom,let us leave off talking nonsense--the thing that we both want issomething to do."
"That is what _I_ want," said Tom quickly, "but as for you, Lucilla, youshall do nothing but enjoy yourself and take care of yourself. The ideaof _you_ wanting something to do!"
Miss Marjoribanks regarded her betrothed with mild and affectionatecontempt as he thus delivered himself of his foolish sentiments. "It isof no use trying to make him understand," she said, with an air ofresignation. "Do you know that I have always been doing something, andresponsible for something, all my life?"
"Yes, my poor darling," said Tom, "I know; but now you are in my hands Imean to take care of you, Lucilla; you shall have no more anxiety ortrouble. What is the good of a man if he can't save the woman he is fondof from all that?" cried the honest fellow--and Lucilla could not butcast a despairing glance round her, as if appealing to heaven and earth.What was to be done with a man who had so little understanding of her,and of himself, and of the eternal fitness of things?
"My dear Tom," she said once more, mildly, "we may have lost some money,but we are very well off, and Providence has been very kind to us. Andthere are a great many poor people in the world who are not so well off.I have always tried to be of some use to my fellow-creatures," saidLucilla, "and I don't mean, whatever you may say, to give it up now."
"My dearest Lucilla, if it was the poor you were thinking of----! Imight have known it was something different from my stupid notions,"cried Tom. This kind of adoration was new to Lucilla, notwithstandingher many experiences. And he thought it so good of her to condescend tobe good, that she could not help thinking a little better of herselfthan ordinary, though that, perhaps, was not absolutely needful; andthen she proceeded with the elucidation of her views.
"I have been of some use to my fellow-creatures in my way," said MissMarjoribanks modestly, "but it has been hard work, and people are notalways grateful, you know. And then things are a good deal changed inCarlingford. A woman may devote herself to putting some life intosociety, and give up years of her time, and--and even her opportunitiesand all that, and do a great deal of good; but yet if she is put asidefor a moment, there is an end of it. I have been doing the best I couldfor Carlingford for ten years," said Lucilla, with a little naturalsadness, "and if
any one were to examine into it, where is it all now?They have only got into the way of looking to me; and I do believe ifyou were to go up and down from Elsworthy's to St Roque's, though youmight find people at dinner here and there, you would not find a shadowof what could really be called society in all Grange Lane!"
Lucilla paused, for naturally her feelings were moved, and while Tombent over her with tender and respectful devotion, it was not to bewondered at if Miss Marjoribanks, in the emotion of her heart, shouldwipe away a tear.
"After working at it for ten years!" said Lucilla; "and now, since poorpapa died, who was always full of discrimination----This is what willcome of it, Tom," she added solemnly--"they will go back to their oldridiculous parties, as if they had never seen anything better; and theywill all break up into little cliques, and make their awful morningcalls and freeze one another to death. That will be the end of it all,after one has slaved like a--like a woman in a mill," said thedisappointed reformer, "and given up ten years."
"My poor darling!" cried Tom, who would have liked to go and challengeCarlingford for being so insensible to his Lucilla's devotion andcherishing maternal care.
"But if it had been the poor," said Miss Marjoribanks, recovering herspirits a little, "they could not help being the better for what one didfor them. They might continue to be as stupid as ever, and ungrateful,and all that; but if they were warm and comfortable, instead of cold andhungry, it would always make a difference. Tom, I will tell you what youwill do if you want to please me. You will take all our money andrealise it, you know, whatever that means, and go off directly, as fastas the train can carry you, and buy an Estate."
"An estate!" cried Tom, in consternation; and the magnitude of the wordwas such, and Lucilla was so entirely in earnest, that he jumped fromhis chair and gazed at her as if constrained, notwithstanding hisamazement, to rush off instantly and obey.
"I did not mean just this moment," said Lucilla; "sit down and we cantalk it all over, Tom. You know it would be something for you to do; youcannot just go living on like this at your age; you could improve theland, you know, and do all that sort of thing, and the people you couldleave to me."
"But Lucilla," said Tom, recovering a little from his consternation, "itis not so easy buying an estate. I mean all that I have to be settledupon you, in case of anything happening. Land may be a safe enoughinvestment; but you know, very often, Lucilla--the fact is, it doesn'tpay."
"_We_ could make it pay," said Miss Marjoribanks, with a benevolentsmile, "and besides there are estates and estates. I don't want you togo and throw away your money. It was in the _Carlingford Gazette_ thismorning, and I can't help feeling it was a special providence. Of courseyou never looked at it in the paper, though I marked it for you. Tom, itis Marchbank that I want you to buy. You know how papa used to talk ofit. He used to say it was just a nice little property that a gentlemancould manage. If he had been spared," said Lucilla, putting herhandkerchief to her eyes, "and these wicked dreadful people had notfailed, nor nothing happened, I know he would have bought it himself.Dear papa! and he would have given it to me; and most likely, so far asone can tell, it would have come to you at the last, and you would havebeen Marjoribanks of Marchbank, like our great-great-grandpapa; and thatis what I want you to do."
Lucilla's proposition, as it thus unfolded itself, took away TomMarjoribanks's breath, for notwithstanding that it came from a (young)lady, and was confused by some slightly unintelligible conditions aboutdoing good to one's fellow-creatures, it was not a trifling or romanticsuggestion. Tom, too, could remember Marchbank, and his uncle's interestin it, and the careful way in which he explained to the ignorant thatthis was the correct pronunciation of his own name. While Lucilla madeher concluding address, Tom seemed to see himself a little fellow, withhis eyes and his ears very wide open, trotting about with small stepsafter the Doctor, as he went over the red-brick house and neglectedgardens at Marchbank: it was only to be let then, and had passed throughmany hands, and was in miserable case, both lands and house. But neitherthe lands nor the house were bad of themselves, and Tom was, likeLucilla, perfectly well aware that something might be made of them.
This idea gave a new direction to his thoughts. Though he had beenbrought up to the bar, he had never been a lover of town, and was inreality, like so many young Englishmen, better qualified to be somethingin the shape of a country gentleman than for any other profession in theworld; and he had left his profession behind, and was in most urgentwant of something to do. He did not give in at once with a lover'sabject submission, but thought it over for twenty-four hours at all hisspare moments,--when he was smoking his evening cigar in the garden,and studying the light in his lady's window, and when he ought to havebeen asleep, and again in the morning when he sallied forth, before MissMarjoribanks's blinds were drawn up or the house had fairly awoke. Hewas not a man of brilliant ability, but he had that sure and steady eyefor the real secret of a position which must have been revealed to everycompetent critic by the wonderful clear-sightedness with which he saw,and the wise persistence with which he held to the necessity of animmediate choice between himself and Mr Ashburton. He had seen thatthere was but one alternative, and he had suffered no delay nordivergence from the question in hand. And it was this same quality whichhad helped him to the very pretty addition to his small patrimony whichhe had meant to settle on Lucilla, and which would now make theacquisition of Marchbank an easy thing enough. And though Tom had lookedwise on the subject of investment in land, it was a kind of investmentin every way agreeable to him. Thus Lucilla's arrow went straight to themark--straighter even than she had expected; for besides all the otherand more substantial considerations, there was to Tom's mind a sweetsense of poetic justice in the thought that, after his poor uncle'sfailure, who had never thought him good enough for Lucilla, it should behe and no other who would give this coveted possession to his cousin.Had Marchbank been in the market in Dr Marjoribanks's time, it was, asLucilla herself said, his money that would have bought it; but in such acase, so far as the Doctor was concerned, there would have been littlechance for Tom. Now all that was changed, and it was in Tom's hands thatthe wealth of the family lay. It was he who was the head, and couldalone carry out what Lucilla's more original genius suggested. If theDoctor could but have seen it, he who had formed plans so verydifferent--but perhaps by that time Dr Marjoribanks had found out thatProvidence after all had not been so ill-advised as he once thought incommitting to his care such a creative intelligence as that of Lucilla,and withholding from him "the boy."
As for Miss Marjoribanks, after she had made up her mind and stated herconviction, she gave herself no further trouble on the subject, but tookit for granted, with that true wisdom which is unfortunately so rareamong women. She did not talk about it overmuch, or display any feverishanxiety about Marchbank, but left her suggestion to work, and had faithin Tom. At the same time, the tranquillising sense of now knowing, to acertain extent, what lay before her came into Lucilla's mind. It wouldbe a new sphere, but a sphere in which she would find herself at home.Still near enough to Carlingford to keep a watchful eye upon society andgive it the benefit of her experience, and yet at the same timetranslated into a new world, where her influence might be of untoldadvantage, as Lucilla modestly said, to her fellow-creatures. There wasa village not far from the gates at Marchbank, where every kind ofvillage nuisance was to be found. There are people who are very tragicalabout village nuisances, and there are other people who assail them withloathing, as a duty forced upon their consciences; but Lucilla wasneither of the one way of thinking nor of the other. It gave her theliveliest satisfaction to think of all the disorder and disarray of theMarchbank village. Her fingers itched to be at it--to set all thecrooked things straight, and clean away the rubbish, and set everything,as she said, on a sound foundation. If it had been a model village, withprize flower-gardens and clean as Arcadia, the thought of it would nothave given Miss Marjoribanks half so much pleasure. The recollection ofall the wretched hovel
s and miserable cottages exhilarated her heart.
"They may be as stupid and ungrateful as they like," she said toherself, "but to be warm and comfortable instead of cold and hungryalways makes a difference." Perhaps it was not the highest motivepossible, and it might be more satisfactory to some people to think ofLucilla as actuated by lofty sentiments of philanthropy; but to personsacquainted with Miss Marjoribanks's character, her biographer wouldscorn to make any pretence. What would be the good of a spirit full ofboundless activity and benevolent impulses if there was nobody tohelp?--what would be the use of self-devotion if the race in generalstood in no need of charitable ministrations? Lucilla had been of use toher fellow-creatures all her life; and though she was about torelinquish one branch of usefulness, that was not to say that she shouldbe prevented from entering into another. The state of the Marchbankvillage did her good to the very bottom of her soul. It justified her toherself for her choice of Tom, which, but for this chance of doing good,might perhaps have had the air of a merely selfish personal preference.Now she could regard it in a loftier light, and the thought was sweetto Lucilla; for such a beautiful way of helping her neighbour would nodoubt have been to a certain extent impracticable amid the manyoccupations of the Member's wife.
Perhaps the most difficult thing in Miss Marjoribanks's way at thisotherwise satisfactory moment was the difficulty she found in persuadingsociety, first of the reality, and then of the justice, of the step shehad taken. Most of them, to tell the truth, had forgotten all about TomMarjoribanks. It is true that when Lucilla's intentions and prospectswere discussed in Grange Lane, as they had been so often, it was notuncommon for people to say, "There was once a cousin, you know"; butnobody had ever given very much heed to the suggestion. When Lucillawent to tell Mrs Chiley of what had happened, she was but inadequatelyprepared for the surprise with which her intelligence was received. Forit all seemed natural enough to Miss Marjoribanks. She had gone on verysteadily for a long time, without thinking particularly about anybody,and disposed to accept the most eligible and satisfactory person whohappened to present himself; but all the time there had been a warmcorner in her heart for Tom. And then the eligible person had not come,and she had been worried and wearied, and had had her losses, like mostother people. And it had always been pleasant to remember that there wasone man in the world who, if she but held out a finger to him----Butthen the people in Grange Lane were not capable of discrimination onsuch a delicate subject, and had never, as was to be expected, had thesmallest insight into Lucilla's heart.
"You have something to tell me, Lucilla?" said old Mrs Chiley. "You neednot say no, for I can see it in your eyes. And how lucky it is theColonel is out, and we can have it all to ourselves! Come here and sitby me, and tell me all--every word."
"Dear Mrs Chiley," said Lucilla, "you can always see what one meansbefore one says a word. And it has all happened so suddenly; but thevery first thing I thought of doing was to come and tell you."
Mrs Chiley gave her young friend, who was leaning over her, a hug, whichwas the only answer which could be made to so touching a speech, anddrew Lucilla down upon a low chair that had been placed by the side ofher sofa. She kept Miss Marjoribanks's hand in her own, and caressed it,and looked at her with satisfaction in every line of her face. Afterwaiting so long, and having so many disappointments, everything wasgoing to turn out so entirely as it ought to do at last.
"I think I know what you are going to tell me, my dear," said MrsChiley; "and I am so pleased, Lucilla. I only wonder you did not give mea hint from the very first. You remember I asked you when you came herethat snowy evening. I was a hard-hearted old woman, and I dare say youwere very vexed; but I am so glad to think that the Colonel never stoodout against him, but gave his consent that very day."
This was the moment, if there ever was such a moment, when Lucilla lostcourage. Mrs Chiley was so entirely confident as to what was coming, andit was something so different that was really coming; and it was hardupon Miss Marjoribanks to feel that she was about to disappointeverybody's expectations. She had to clear her throat before shespoke--she who was generally so ready for every emergency; and she couldnot help feeling for the moment as if she was a young girl who had runaway with somebody, and deceived all her anxious friends.
"Dear Mrs Chiley, I am afraid I am not going to say what you expected,"said Lucilla. "I am very comfortable and happy, and I think it's for thebest; and I am so anxious that you should like him; but it is not theperson you are thinking of. It is----"
Here the old lady, to Lucilla's surprise, rose up upon her pillows andthrew her arms round her, and kissed her over again, and fell a-crying."I always said how generous you were, Lucilla," cried Mrs Chiley. "Iknew it from the first. I was always fond of him, you know; and now thathe has been beaten, poor dear, and disappointed, you've gone and made itup to him! Lucilla, other people may say what they like, but it is justwhat I always expected of you!"
This unlooked-for burst of enthusiasm took Lucilla entirely by surprise.She could not say in reply that Mr Cavendish did not want her to make itup to him; but the fact that this was the only alternative whichoccurred to Mrs Chiley filled Miss Marjoribanks with a sense ofsomething like positive guilt. She had deceived everybody, and raisedfalse expectations, and how was she to explain herself? It was withhumility and embarrassment that she spoke.
"I don't know what you will say when you hear who it really is," shesaid. "He has been fond of me all this time, though he has been so faraway. He went to India because I sent him, and he came back as soon asever he heard about--what had happened. And what could I do? I could notbe so ungrateful or so hard-hearted _again_, as to send him away?"
"Lucilla, who is it?" said Mrs Chiley, growing pale--for she generallyhad a little wintry bloom on her cheek like the China roses she was sofond of. "Don't keep me like this in suspense."
"Dear Mrs Chiley," said Lucilla, with the brevity of excitement, "Idon't see what other person in the world it could be but my cousin Tom."
Poor Mrs Chiley started, so that the sofa and Lucilla's chair and thevery room shook. She said herself afterwards that she felt as ifsomebody had discharged a pistol into her breast. She was so shocked andstartled that she threw off all her coverings and the Afghanistanblanket Mrs Beverley had sent, and put her tottering old feet to thefloor; and then she took her young friend solemnly by both her hands.
"Oh, Lucilla, my poor dear!" she cried, "you have gone and done itwithout thinking what you were doing. You have taken it into your headthat it was all over, and that there was nothing more to look for. Andyou are only nine-and-twenty, Lucilla; and many a girl marries verywell--better than common--long after she's nine-and-twenty; and I knowfor a fact--oh! my poor dear child, I know for a _certain_ fact!--thatMr Ashburton was coming forward. He as good as said it to Lady Richmond,Lucilla. He as good as said, as soon as the election was over--and nowyou have gone and got impatient, and thrown yourself away!"
Miss Marjoribanks was quite carried away for the moment by this flood ofsorrowful eloquence. She was silenced, and had nothing to answer, andaccepted it as in some respect the just penalty for the disappointmentshe was causing everybody. She let Mrs Chiley say out her say, and thenshe restored the old lady to her sofa, and made her comfortable, andcovered her up with all her wraps and blankets. Though she ran on in afeeble strain all the time weeping and lamenting, Lucilla took nonotice. She wrapped her old friend up, and put her pillows just as sheliked them, and sat down again on the low chair; and by that time thepoor old lady had sunk into a faint sob of vexation and disappointment,and had given her remonstrances up.
"Now, I will tell you all about it," said Miss Marjoribanks. "I knew youwould be surprised; and if it would be any comfort to you, dear MrsChiley, to know that Mr Ashburton _did_----"
"And you refused him, Lucilla?" Mrs Chiley asked, with horror in herface.
"Ought I to have accepted him when there was somebody I liked better?"said Lucilla, with the force of conscious virtue, "and yo
u used alwaysto say just the contrary. One great thing that supported me was, that_you_ would be sure to understand. I did not know it at the time," saidMiss Marjoribanks, with sweet confidence and simplicity, "but I see itall now. Why it never came to anything before, you know, was that Inever could in my heart have accepted anybody but Tom."
Mrs Chiley turned round with unaffected surprise, which was notunmingled with awe. Up to this moment she had been under the impressionthat it was the blindness, and folly, and stupidity of the gentlemenwhich had kept it from ever coming to anything. It was altogether a newlight that broke upon her now, confusing, though on the wholesatisfactory; but for the moment she was struck dumb, and had no answerto make.
"I never knew it myself until--quite lately," said Miss Marjoribanks,with confidential tenderness, "and I don't think I could tell it to anyone but you. Dear Mrs Chiley, you have always taken such an interest inme! I sent him away, you know, and thought I was only fond of himbecause he was my cousin. And then there were all the others, and someof them were very nice; but always when it came to the point--And itnever came into my head that Tom was at the bottom of it all--never tillthe other day."
Mrs Chiley was still so much confounded by this unexpected revelationthat it was some time before she could find her voice; and even now thelight penetrated slowly into her mind, and it was only by degrees thatshe accepted the new fact thus presented to her faith--that it was notthe gentlemen who were to blame--that it was all Lucilla's or rather TomMarjoribanks's fault.
"And Mr Ashburton, Lucilla?" she asked faintly.
"I am very sorry," said Miss Marjoribanks, "very, very sorry; but Idon't think I can blame myself that I gave him encouragement, you know.I may have been foolish at other times, but I am sure I was very carefulwith him. It was all the election that was to blame. I spoke veryfrankly to him," Lucilla added, "for I knew he was a man to do mejustice; and it will always be a comfort to me to think that we hadour--our explanation, you know, before I knew it was Tom."
"Well, Lucilla, it is a great change," said Mrs Chiley, who could notreconcile herself to the new condition of affairs. "I don't mean topretend that I can make up my mind to it all at once. It seems sostrange that you should have been setting your heart on some one allthese ten years, and never saying a word; I wonder how you could do it.And when people were always in the hopes that you would marry at home,as it were, and settle in Carlingford. I am sure your poor dear papawould be as much astonished as anybody. And I suppose now he will takeyou away to Devonshire, where his mother lives, and we shall never seeyou any more." And once more Mrs Chiley gave a little sob. "The Firswould almost have been as good as Grange Lane," she said, "and theMember for Carlingford, Lucilla!"
As for Miss Marjoribanks, she knelt down by the side of the sofa andtook her old friend, as well as the blankets and pillows would permit,into her arms.
"Dear Mrs Chiley, we are going to buy Marchbank and settle," saidLucilla, weeping a little for company. "You could not think I would evergo far away from you. And as for being Member for Carlingford, there areMembers for counties too," Miss Marjoribanks said in her excitement. Itwas a revelation which came out unawares, and which she never intendedto utter; but it threw a gleam of light over the new world of ambitionand progress which was opened to Lucilla's far-seeing vision; and MrsChiley could not but yield to the spell of mingled awe and sympathywhich thrilled through her as she listened. It was not to be supposedthat what Lucilla did was done upon mere unthinking impulse; and whenshe thought of Marchbank, there arose in Mrs Chiley's mind "the slowbeginnings of content."
"But, Lucilla," the old lady said with solemnity, as she gave her a lastkiss of reconciliation and peace, "if all Grange Lane had taken theiroaths to it, I never could have believed, had you not told me, that,after all, it was to be Tom!"
_Chapter the Last_
This was the hardest personal encounter which Miss Marjoribanks wassubjected to; but when the news circulated in Grange Lane there wasfirst a dead pause of incredulity and amazement, and then such acommotion as could be compared to nothing except a sudden squall at sea.People who had been going peaceably on their way at one moment, thinkingof nothing, were to be seen the next buffeted by the wind of Rumour andtossed about on the waves of Astonishment. To speak less metaphorically(but there are moments of emotion so overwhelming and unprecedented thatthey can be dealt with only in the language of metaphor), everyhousehold in Grange Lane, and at least half of the humbler houses inGrove Street, and a large proportion of the other dwellings inCarlingford, were nearly as much agitated about Lucilla's marriage as ifit had been a daughter of their own. Now that he was recalled to theirminds in such a startling way, people began to recollect with greaterand greater distinctness that "there was once a cousin, you know," andto remember him in his youth, and even in his boyhood, when he had beenmuch in Carlingford. And by degrees the Grange Lane people came to seethat they knew a great deal about Tom, and to remind each other of theabrupt end of his last visit, and of his going to India immediatelyafter, and of many a little circumstance in Lucilla's looks and generaldemeanour which this _denouement_ seemed to make plain.
Lady Richmond, though she was a little annoyed about Mr Ashburton'sdisappointment, decided at once that it was best to ignore thataltogether, and was quite glad to think that she had always said theremust be somebody. "She bore up a great deal too well against all herlittle disappointments," she said, when discussing the matter. "When agirl does that one may be always sure there is somebody behind--and youknow I always said, when she was not just talking or busy, that therewas a preoccupation in Lucilla's eye." This was a speech which MrsWoodburn, as might have been expected, made a great deal of--but,notwithstanding, it had its effect in Grange Lane. Going back upon theirrecollections, most people were able to verify the fact that MissMarjoribanks had borne her little disappointments very well, and thatthere was sometimes a preoccupation in her eye. The first was beyonddispute; and as for the second, it was a thing which did not require avery great stretch of imagination to suppose--and the unexpectedsensation of finding at last a distinct bit of romance to round offLucilla's history, was pleasant to most people. If she had married MrAshburton, it would have been (so far as anything connected with MissMarjoribanks could be) a commonplace conclusion. But now she had upseteverybody's theories, and made an altogether original and unlooked-forending for herself, which was a thing to have been expected fromLucilla, though nobody could have foreseen the special turn which heroriginality would take.
And nothing could have come in more appropriately after the election,when people felt the blank of ordinary existence just beginning tosettle down upon them again. It kept all Carlingford in conversation fora longer time than might be supposed in these busy days; for there wasnot only the fact itself, but what _they_ were to do, and where theywere to go, to be discussed. And then Tom himself began to be visibleabout Grange Lane; and he had heaps of Indian things among his baggage,and recollected so affectionately the people he used to know, anddispensed his curiosities with such a liberal hand, that the heart ofCarlingford was touched. He had a way of miscalculating distances, ashas been said, and exercised some kind of magnetic influence upon allthe little tables and unsteady articles of furniture, which somehowseemed to fall if he but looked at them. But, on the other hand, JohnBrown, who had in hand the sale of Marchbank, found him the moststraightforward and clear-headed of clients. The two had all thepreliminaries arranged before any other intending purchaser had time toturn the matter over in his mind. And Tom had the old brick house fullof workmen before anybody knew it was his. When the summer had fairlycommenced he went over and lived there, and saw to everything, and wentso far as to fit up the drawing-room with the same well-remembered tintof pale green which had been found ten years ago to suit so well withLucilla's complexion. It was perhaps a little hazardous to repeat theexperiment, for green, as everybody knows, is a very trying colour; butit was a most touching and triumphant proof that to Tom, at least,Lucilla was as you
ng as ever, and had not even begun to go off. It wasMr Holden who supplied everything, and he was naturally proud of thetrust thus reposed in him, and formed the very highest opinion of hiscustomer; and it was probably from his enthusiasm on this subject thatmight be traced the commencement of that singular revolution ofsentiment in Grange Lane, which suddenly woke up all in an instantwithout knowing how, to recognise the existence of Mr Marjoribanks, andto forget the undue familiarity which had ventured upon the name of Tom.
When Lucilla went over in the most proper and decorous way, under thecharge of Aunt Jemima, to see her future home, the sight of the villageat Marchbank was sweet to her eyes. That it was not by any means sweetto any other sense did but enhance Miss Marjoribanks's satisfaction. "Ayear after this!" she said to herself, and her bosom swelled; for torealise clearly how much she had it in her power to do for herfellow-creatures was indeed a pleasure. It occupied her a great dealmore than the gardens did, which Tom was arranging so carefully, or eventhan the kitchen, which she inspected for the information of Nancy; forat that time the drawing-room was not fitted up. Lucilla's eyes wentover the moral wilderness with the practical glance of a statesman, and,at the same time, the sanguine enthusiasm of a philanthropist. She sawof what it was capable, and already, in imagination, the desertblossomed like a rose before her beneficent steps, and the sweet senseof well-doing rose in her breast. And then to see Tom at Marchbank wasto see his qualities. He was not a man of original mind, nor one whowould be likely to take a bold initiative. Considering all thecircumstances, that was a gift which was scarcely to be wished for; buthe had a perfect genius for carrying out a suggestion, which, it needscarcely be added, was a faculty that, considering the good fortunewhich Providence had so long reserved for him, made his character asnear perfect as humanity permits. Lucilla felt, indeed, as she droveaway, that approbation of Providence which a well-regulated mind, inpossession of most things which it desires, might be expected to feel.Other delusive fancies _had_ one time and another swept across herhorizon; but after all there could be no doubt that only thus could shehave been fitly mated, and full development afforded to all theresources of her spirit. As the carriage passed the Firs she sighed andput down her veil with a natural sentiment; but still she felt it wasfor the best. The Member for Carlingford must be a busy man, occupiedabout his own affairs, and with little leisure for doing good to hisfellow-creatures except in a parliamentary way. "And there are membersfor counties as well," Lucilla, in the depths of her soul, said toherself. Then there rose up before her a vision of a parish saved, avillage reformed, a county reorganised, and a triumphant election at theend, the recompense and crown of all, which should put the government ofthe country itself, to a certain extent, into competent hands. This wasthe celestial vision which floated before Miss Marjoribanks's eyes asshe drove into Carlingford, and recollected, notwithstanding occasionalmoments of discouragement, the successful work she had done, and thegood she had achieved in her native town. It was but the naturalculmination of her career that transferred her from the town to thecounty, and held out to her the glorious task of serving her generationin a twofold way, among the poor and among the rich. If a momentary sighfor Grange Lane, which was about to lose her, breathed from her lips, itwas sweetened by a smile of satisfaction for the county which was aboutto gain her. The lighter preface of life was past, and Lucilla had thecomfort of feeling that its course had been full of benefit to herfellow-creatures; and now a larger sphere opened before her feet, andMiss Marjoribanks felt that the arrangements of Providence were on thewhole full of discrimination, and that all was for the best, and she hadnot lived in vain.
This being the case, perhaps it is not necessary to go much further intodetail. Mr Ashburton never said anything about his disappointment, asmight have been expected. When he did mention that eventful day at all,he said that he had happened accidentally to be calling on MissMarjoribanks the day her cousin came home, and saw at once the state ofaffairs; and he sent her a very nice present when she was married. Afterall, it was not her fault. If Providence had ordained that it was to beTom, how could Lucilla fly in the face of such an ordinance? and, at thesame time, there was to both parties the consoling reflection, thatwhatever might happen to them as individuals, the best man had beenchosen for Carlingford, which was an abiding benefit to all concerned.
Under all the circumstances, it was to be looked for that MissMarjoribanks's spirits should improve even in her mourning, and that thetenacity with which she clung to her father's house should yield to thechanged state of affairs. This was so much the case, that Lucilla tookheart to show Mrs Rider all over it, and to point out all theconveniences to her, and even, with a sigh, to call her attention to thebell which hung over the Doctor's bedroom door. "It breaks my heart tohear it," Miss Marjoribanks said; "but still Dr Rider will find it agreat convenience." It was a very nice house; and so the new Doctor'swife, who had not been used to anything so spacious, was very willing tosay; and instead of feeling any grudge against the man who was thus inevery respect to take her father's place, so sweet are the softeninginfluences of time and personal well-being, that Lucilla, who was alwaysso good-natured, made many little arrangements for their comfort, andeven _left the carpets_, which was a thing nobody could have expected ofher, and which Aunt Jemima did not scruple to condemn. "They are allfitted," Lucilla said, "and if they were taken up they would be spoiled;and besides, we could have no use for them at Marchbank." It was a verykind thing to do, and simplified matters very much for the Riders, whowere not rich. But Aunt Jemima, in the background, could not but pullLucilla's sleeve, and mutter indistinct remarks about a valuation, whichnobody paid any particular attention to at the moment, as there were somany things much more important to think of and to do.
And the presents that came pouring in from every quarter were enough tohave made up for twenty carpets. Lucilla got testimonials, so to speak,from every side, and all Carlingford interested itself, as has beensaid, in all the details of the marriage, as if it had been a daughterof its own. "And yet it is odd to think that, after all, I shall neverbe anything but Lucilla Marjoribanks!" she said, in the midst of all hertriumphs, with a certain pensiveness. If there could be any name thatwould have suited her better, or is surrounded by more touchingassociations, we leave it to her other friends to find out; for at themoment of taking leave of her, there is something consoling to our ownmind in the thought that Lucilla can now suffer no change of name. Asshe was in the first freshness of her youthful daring, when she roselike the sun upon the chaos of society in Carlingford, so is she now asshe goes forth into the County to carry light and progress there. Andin this reflection there is surely comfort for the few remainingmalcontents, whom not even his own excellent qualities, and Lucilla'shappiness, can reconcile to the fact that after all it was Tom.
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