CHAPTER XXXV.
THE OLD SQUIRE AND THE NEW.
'I remember, I remember, The house where I was born, The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn.' _T. Hood._
So it was that the Reverend Edward Clement Underwood became Vicar ofVale Leston Abbas; and as Geraldine observed, when she saw his wholeworldly possessions waiting for the omnibus, he probably carried withhim less personal property than any entering incumbent on the rolls offame. All was contained in one box, one portmanteau, and one black bag,and chiefly consisted in the more clerical of his father's books, hispocket-communion plate in the well-worn case, and a few gifts from StMatthew's, not unaccompanied with cautions on their use.
He spent a few days at home; and Mr. Bevan, who after his five years'holiday had just come home, not only called on him, but asked him topreach and to dine, including Felix in the latter invitation; but bothwere impossible, as Clement was due at Vale Leston on the Saturday.Thenceforth his family heard little of him. He had never been much ofa letter-writer, except when he sent a sort of essay on Church affairsto direct the Pursuivant, and even these nearly ceased, so that, asLance said, there was no guessing whether he viewed the squire as thewicked world or as a sick old sinner. And with Lance, Clement had hada sort of passage-at-arms. He wanted much to have sent him to theUniversity, and was much vexed when Lance for many reasons declined;but the offer and refusal were unknown--by the wish of both parties--tothe rest of the family. Clement said it was all indolence, and passionfor that organ of Ferdinand Travis's, which, now it had come at last,had proved transcendently well worth waiting for. Clement viewed itwith some jealousy, and predicted that Lance would rue his decision;and Lance could not help resenting what was unjust in the accusationand prognostic, the more for what was just in it. To be sure, hisdispleasure went no further than the resumption of the impudent oldname of Tina, but from Lance that implied much.
Clement as a beneficed clergyman was something tangible; otherwisepeople were rather disappointed to find Mr. Underwood in his naturalplace, looking just as usual, and though to one or two close inquirershe allowed that some property might come to him some day, he declaredthat it made no difference. And when people found no blunders intheir accounts, no failures in their serials, and no neglect of theirparcels, they left off thinking he must necessarily be demoralised; andthough the Tribune sneered more than ever at the organ of a bloatedaristocracy, the world in general soon forgot, and then disbelieved,that their attentive bookseller had any 'expectations.'
Indeed, Felix himself had made up his mind, as he told his home sisterand brother, that the Squire had still many years to live, and thatthe inheritance was only to be viewed as a dispensation from laying byfor old age, a point on the duty of which he had never decided, havingin truth nothing to lay by. The interests he now had in the place, andthe security of a welcome, satisfied his affection for it; and he wastoo much at home in his present occupation to feel impatient to have itended.
Geraldine found the waiting a greater trial. Longings for the greengrass, the purple moorland, the sparkling river, and broad sea wouldcome over her; and she would wonder whether the best years of theirlives were to be spent in the Bexley streets, where she could nothelp fancying the smoke of the potteries more apparent than ever;and whether Felix were condemned to stand behind a counter till hehad grown too old to begin a new life. Then she blamed herself, andtried to struggle the thought away; but there was to her an absoluteoppression in Bexley summer air, and an uncongeniality in the dull uglysurroundings, that made content an almost impossible achievement; andthe anticipation assuredly did not make her happier for the present.
She declared however that Angela was wholesome to her, as a tipsy Helotwas to the Spartans. The girl was intoxicated with the prospect whenshe suddenly plunged into it on coming home for the summer holidays. Itseemed nearly as good as her intended Duke, and she talked continuallyof the horses she would ride, the tours she would take, the balls shewould frequent, while Felix would drily build up her castles to somesuch manifestly outrageous height as to make them topple down headlongwith her.
She was not the only Helot. Madame Tanneguy's sympathetic excitementknew no bounds, and she clasped her hands with a gesture learnt inFrance, as she rejoiced in Mr. Underwood being reinstated, and neverwould hear or understand that there was no _re_ in the case. She wouldbe enthusiastic; she would drop in on Sundays, and question Felix pointby point about that magnificent place; and it must be owned that heliked sympathy well enough not to answer her as ungraciously as Cherrywould have approved. She even tried to bring little Gustave, that heand Theodore might grow accustomed to one another; but in this shenever succeeded, for Theodore having learnt that he must neither screamat nor attack the little Frenchman, never saw him approach withoutretreating to Sibby in the kitchen, or his brothers in the office.
But Lady Price's demonstrations were much more amusing. She had comehome a good deal subdued and more on her guard, and she could takeadvantage of the former Miss Underwood having been so fully occupiedto excuse her past neglect. She asked Felix to dinner, and hissisters to croquet parties indefatigably, and tried to get up musicalentertainments which must lead to his singing with Miss Caroline.What to do was a perplexity. Felix did not like to refuse altogetherovertures from the Rectory, for he had a warm feeling for poor Mr.Bevan himself; but the horrible penance of singing with Miss Price hebacked out of pitilessly on the score of want of time; and as to thegarden parties, Geraldine hated them, and would have declined themaltogether if Angela had not been wild to go; and Felix and Wilmetboth decreed that it would be better for the child to accustom her to alittle society than to leave her pining and raving for amusement withinher reach. So as long as Angela was at home, Cherry consented to go tothe Rectory croquet, and horribly dull she found it. Lady Price useddemonstratively to inquire after her sister Lady Vanderkist, and howMr. Clement was getting on, and would introduce her to two or three ofthe lookers on; but they were not apt to be of the mould who broughtout Cherry's powers of conversation; and she never got on well withany one but the old Miss Crabbe who had once brought Stella home, andwho knew the Vale Leston neighbourhood, and could tell her a good dealabout it.
Wilmet had never come home to institute her reformation. John'soccupation did not give him much leisure, and his mother's kindred senthim so urgent an invitation, that he felt the more obliged to carry hiswife among them, because it was an act of forgiveness for his marryingher. One of his mother's sisters had died, leaving him her portion,and the survivor yearned after poor Lucy's son and his little boy. SoWilmet was taken amongst the Oglandby clan, and took all the gentlemenby storm by her beauty, and all the ladies by her domesticity and goodsense; and John found himself so taken up with business connectedwith the bequest, that no time could be made for either of the homes.Besides, it was greatly suspected that as a mother Wilmet was afraid ofTheodore and his jealousy, for she never offered to run down withouther husband. Indeed, he was carrying on a hard struggle to keep up tohis work through the inveterate remains of neuralgic suffering left byhis accident, and only those who stayed any time in the house knew howbrave an effort were his industry and cheerfulness.
Robina had a capital situation as second governess in a largehousehold, where she seemed very happy; while William Harewoodcontinued to win prosperity and honour at Oxford, ending by obtaininga first class, and becoming a student of Christchurch. Who would haveaugured the like of Bill?
The most visible effects of the heirship were big hampers of game,which appeared at intervals all through the autumn and winter; andFelix did thoroughly enjoy the carrying over the choicest spoilstherefrom to Marshlands, where they gave a great deal of pleasure anda certain kind of pride. Now that Mr. Froggatt had seen no symptoms ofthe turning of Felix's head, he began to believe in his prospects, andto be a good deal divided between regard for him and for the business.
Bernard was the one who profited most by the presen
t state of things.Not only did he go over twice, for a day, from Stoneborough to ValeLeston, but he spent a week there at the beginning of the Christmasholidays, chiefly in the society of the gamekeeper. So supremely happywas he, and so brilliant were his descriptions to Madame Tanneguy,that by the time they had gone through a Russian scandal process amongher confidantes Vale Leston had swelled to the dimensions of WindsorCastle; and Lance and Angel were incited to prepare for her especialbenefit a parody of 'Bolton Abbey in the Olden Time,' with Clementin the character and costume of the Abbot, presiding over the likeprofusion of game.
Not much more could be got out of the boy. He would talk indeedplentifully, but it was all of rabbits and ferrets, pheasants andducks, horses and dogs. He evidently viewed himself as the Underwoodwho alone could do his duty by the _ferae naturae_ of the estate; andthough his magniloquence was not perfectly trustworthy, the eldersgathered from it that the old Squire had really been pleased to findin one of the brothers the sportsman tastes he could appreciate, andhad encouraged the boy by telling him all manner of hunting anecdotes,and letting him have the run of the woods. Bernard was small enough tohave no dignity to lose, and had galloped on the ponies turned out tograss; but Felix had a curiosity to learn how Clement got on with thechestnut, a question which set the school-boy into fits of laughing.'Oh! I believe he sticks on somehow now, but just like a pair ofcompasses, you know. Joe says if he has been spilt once he has beenspilt forty times. He knows by the mud on his clothes, you see; butMr. Eddard, as every one calls him, never says one word about it, butstalks in just as upright as ever, and only once or twice they thoughthe was a little stiff.'
'But does he go on all the same?' asked Cherry, rather alarmed.
'Oh yes, 'tis dogged as does it; and one can't get about there withoutriding; such roads, and mud, and water-courses up to your knees. Yes,and Joe doesn't think he's been off for more than a month now.'
'Hurrah!' said Lance, 'I always knew Clem had lots of pluck in his ownway! And does he drive?'
'He drives out the Squire whenever it is fine enough.'
Much more could not be made out. The boy had, as Cherry said, a finesingleness of eye. The game was in full focus, all the rest very dimand obscure. Yes, Clem had a jolly room enough. What he did, or whetherhe went out much, this deponent knew not, only that he believed thechurch bell rang at eight--he thought Clem rang it himself. Dinner wasat seven, uncommon jolly--a capital cellar--and he was with difficultycalled back from an imposing enumeration of wines, to say that Mrs.Fulbert was certainly not in the house. Mr. Underwood seldom left hisroom till the middle of the day, and then, if he were well and theweather fine, Clement attended his airing, then left him to sleep,and after dinner played piquet or cribbage with him. When once Mr.Staples dined there, Bernard had taken a hand at whist, of which he wasinordinately proud.
That was all that could be gathered with any certainty, though Bernarddid nothing but groan for Vale Leston whenever he was not skating. Theyhad learnt that the Vicar of Vale Leston could ride and play at cards,and they might make the most of that.
Nor did they hear more till the next April, when Felix received thefollowing note:--
Vale Leston Priory, April 29th.
MY DEAR FELIX,
If you can get away I wish you would come down without loss of time. Just after Bernard left us, Mr. Underwood got a chill, and has had a good deal of suppressed gout. The doctor thinks ill of him. I find he never has been a Communicant. Latterly, the sense of wrong done to my father has held him back. It is not satisfactory now, and I long for a priest of experience, but I must do my best, and time and faculty seem failing. Your presence and participation would be a comfort. Can you run down? I will have the 4.40 train met on Monday.
Your affectionate Brother, E.C.U.
At 4.40 accordingly, Felix beheld a sporting-looking dog-cart ofvarnished wood, containing a long black figure holding a very bigchestnut horse, and stretching out an eager hand to grasp hisbrother's. 'That's right, Felix! I'm glad you are come!'
'Is he worse?'
'He has been changing rapidly since I wrote to you. Page does not knowwhat to think of him. I've been writing to ask Dr. May to come overto-morrow.'
'You look fagged, Clem. Does the nursing fall on you?'
'We have a nurse now; and he seemed disposed to sleep, so I thought Imight come and meet you,' said Clement, who not only had the heavy eyesof broken rest, but altogether had lost the childish contour of face,and acquired the stamp of thought and reality.
'The daughter-in-law is no help, I suppose?'
Clement laughed, but rather sadly. 'They had had a great row over poorFulbert's properties before I came on the scene at all. She never wasanything but a grievance to him. He meant his son to have had Marilda;and when that failed, consented to pay his debts and let him marry thisperson, on his yielding to take Holy Orders--a miserable business,and he feels it so now. I have tried to bring about a better state offeeling, but I can't feel my way. I think there is more good in herthan he gives her credit for; and he fancies she blinds me, and has asgood as ordered me never to speak of her again.'
'Then he has quite adopted you?'
'Oh, yes, he is very kind to me,' said Clement warmly, and from whathe went on to say, it was clear that he had grown fond of his charge,and found it far less of a burthen than he had expected, though he musthave been often crossed, and could have met with little congeniality.
He had been left quite unfettered in action as a clergyman; indeed, theSquire had supported him under the growls of a few malcontents, andthough this was chiefly on the ground that State must stand by Church,Underwood by Underwood, and that tenants had no business to think,still it was effective. The only quarrels had been caused by the youngVicar's peacemaking endeavours towards the widow, his proclivitiestowards the pariahs of Blackstone Gulley, and his backwardness toenter into county gaieties.
'Young men were hardly to be trusted if they were not like young men,'argued the Squire; and he was vexed if he found Clement avoiding aparty or refusing a dinner on the score of parish engagements. Indeed,an invitation from a sporting nobleman of a questionable repute wasdeclined at the cost of such offence, that Clement had thought heshould have to reconstruct the Vicarage, if not repair at once tosleep in the hay-loft thereof; but after one evening's storm, thesubject had never been renewed. To have had more of the animal andless of the spiritual in his young inmate would have been pleasanterand more comprehensible to the old gentleman; and he had begun by acertain distrust of what the military comrades of his youth and thehunting associates of his later years would have declared sanctimonioushypocrisy in so young a man. The first offer--as a mere matter ofcourse--to read prayers to him had been received with a snarl, and adry 'Thank you, I'll let you know when I require your services.'
Clement had desisted, and strengthened by the Vicar's counsel, hadwaited to feel his way and win his ground, by many a reading of thenewspaper, many a game at piquet, many a prose on the Shaw misdeedsand on county politics, and by what the poor old man had never knownbefore--the genuine filial kindness of reverence for age and infirmity,without interested adulation.
After all, it was the attacks on the young parson's new-fanglednessthat first led to discussions that died away only to be renewed again,revealing queer prejudices and conclusions based on nearly totalignorance--the ignorance of a careless son of a careless householdsixty years back, and since alienated from all religious teachingby the consciousness of one act of injustice in requital of unusualforbearance and generosity.
Clement felt as though he had done nothing, and that the opportunitywas fast fleeting. Where he had but stirred the waters, he thought thata man like Mr. Fulmort might have produced real effect; and he wasdowncast and humble at his own inefficiency, though he allowed thatno stranger would prob
ably have been permitted to go so far as he, ayouth, an Underwood, and a son of the injured cousin's.
This, Felix's third arrival, was unlike the former ones. He had noneed to watch his brother's countenance for tokens of interest;Clement was the one at home, and with his heart in the place, thoughstill he looked as if he thought there was irrelevance in the cry ofloving joy that broke from Felix at first sight of the valley in itsbeauty. The moor, the wood, the river, and the sea, did not go for muchwith the Vicar--it was the people he thought of, and the damages anddeficiencies of the Church struck him infinitely more than the grandeurof the tower and picturesque beauty of the building.
He had no power to make changes in the fabric; and indeed, it hadbeen Mr. Fulmort's advice that in all the alterations which he shouldintroduce, he should carefully distinguish between essentials andnon-essentials, including in the former that spiritual support forhimself, which was needful to prevent the salt from losing savour, andhimself from becoming lowered to his people's level while waiting toraise them, but omitting what would be viewed as mere outward ornamenttill minds were trained to enter into it.
So, though Abednego Tripp's voice still reigned supreme in theresponses, there was a full complement of daily prayer and weeklyfeast, though the Vicar's very heart ached over the blankness,dreariness, and scant attendance. The main body of the parishionersnever indeed openly censured an Underwood, but they viewed theseaberrations on the part of 'Mr. Eddard,' as an outcome of gentlefolks'lack of employment 'The last Passon Fulbert, _he_ were all for hosses,this here Passon Eddard, _he_ be all for churchings,' was the parishjudgment; and only now and then were deep-set grafts implanted by hisfather discovered to cheer his heart.
Indeed, the influences of school, visiting, lectures, and classes, werethe more impeded by the influence of the four Miss Hepburns.
'Ah!' said Clement, as he touched his hat to a tall grey and russetform, 'there goes one of the trials of my life! All the religion inthe parish was kept up by those good ladies, and now they think mineworse than none. They call me "Poor young man!" Yes, you may laugh,Felix; but it is they who prevent me from making way. If they were onlyDissenters, I should know what to be at; but they have deserved all thelove and reverence of the parish all these years, and now they turn itagainst me!'
'Knowingly?'
'So far as that they sigh at me, and warn people against trusting toordinances, as if I ever taught any such thing, or as if people neededto be told _not_ to go to church.'
'They don't do that?'
'Not exactly; but it amounts to an excuse for not going. And if Iobject to one tract, they ingeniously substitute another just as bad.I can't turn them out of the school. They were so much disgusted whenI got the Sunday school out of the Lady Chapel into the Vicarage, thestable you know, that I was in hopes they would cut the concern; butno, they go on like martyrs. Their object is to counteract me. Theyhave as good as told me they think it their mission.'
'Do you argue?'
'Oh yes, I did so plentifully the first six months, but they alwaysassumed I said something I never even dreamt of. They even went to Mr.Underwood, but I don't think they got much out of him,' said Clement,laughing a little. 'Of late I have had no time to go near them; and myone comfort is they don't think Blackstone Gulley a place for ladies,and fancy we have nothing to do with the East Ewmouth suburb. I don'tknow why I should rejoice, though! The place there grows every day, andinto heathenism.'
No wonder poor Clement was fagged, melancholy, and discouraged. Hislife was lonely. There were no gentry in the village but these ladies;and he--with his strong opinions and assertion of his office--wasexactly the person to be as heavy a trial to middle-aged ladiesof opposite traditions, and accustomed to a semi-pastorate in theneglected parish, as ever they could be to him. The neighbouringclergy, except one overtasked incumbent, on the farther side ofEwmouth, were of their way of thinking, pitied them, and stoodcourteously aloof from the new-comer. Stoneborough was too far off formuch intercourse, and even there his peculiarities stood in his light,and his position as the guest of his invalid kinsman prevented him frombringing a friend to stay with him, or arranging an exchange to givehimself relaxation. He had not even been able to go up to Cambridgefor his M.A. degree, and had not once slept out of the Priory. Of thishe did not complain, but no doubt this isolation had assisted in hisdepression and belief that he was failing utterly, and doing nothingbut mischief.
It seemed to be an inexpressible relief to talk to some one who couldunderstand him; and perhaps he had never so enjoyed his brother'ssociety before.
The butler met them at the door, saying that Mr. Underwood was awake,and asking for both him and 'Mr. Felix;' and Clement led the way atonce to the sitting-room, where the old man still was daily wheeled,for the restlessness of rapid failure was on him; and the sight of hiswan puffy-looking face and the sinking in of his whole figure startledFelix, even after what he had heard. He lighted up a little at thesight of 'Edward,' and held out a cold damp hand to Felix, complainingof chill; nor could he bear to lose sight of the younger cousin again.Every moment he wanted his help to change his posture or alter hispillows; and when the brothers were called away to dinner, Clementwould hardly have gone save to obtain an opportunity of telling hisbrother that he saw much change in this short time, and to despatch amessage for the medical man from Ewmouth.
He, however, said nothing definite, but administered an anodyne, andpromised to come early, advising Clement to leave the night-watch tothe nurse, as causing less excitement, and perhaps with a view likewiseto the visible effects of a long course of anxious and disturbed nights.
But in the early light of May morning, Clement was standing by hisbrother's bed-side, saying in a low agitated voice, 'Felix, I think theend is coming. His mind is clear, and he wants to see you. I think weought to have the Celebration. I hoped to have brought him to send forJane--in fact, I have sent. You must judge if we ought to wait.'
Felix had less experience of the approach of death than the youngclergyman, but the ashy sunken face and hollow breath assured him thatthere was no time to lose. The old man was sensible, and perfectly knewFelix, but was too much oppressed to speak much; only after a time hesaid, with an odd kind of smile, 'That boy Edward does more for me thanever my own, poor fellow--like his father--glad he has his place--he'snot next to you?'
'Not if poor Edgar be living, sir.'
'Don't let a scamp come between him and the property,' gasped the oldman; but Felix felt no need of answering.
'Wish my uncle had signed his will,' was the next murmur. 'Edward andMary would have done better--maybe, my poor boy, too. Is Edward there?I say--you lads--never drive a son into the Church, whatever you do.'
It was a remote temptation, but there was an echo of repentance inthe warning. No more was said till all had been made ready. Old Tripphad been sent for to make up the number; the household contained noCommunicant. The dying man made each brother give him his hand, andsaid, 'Peace with all, isn't that it? You, both of you, Felix andEdward, I did use your father and mother as I ought not, though somehowI thought at the time I had the right, but I believe I have sufferedfor it all my life; and I ask your pardon as I would ask theirs.'
'Indeed you have it, as I know you had theirs,' Felix said. 'My brotherknows as well as I, how no word like bitterness was ever allowedamongst us.'
'Did Edward forgive me at last?'
'Not at last,' said Felix; 'he had done it so much at first, that henever thought of it.'
'And,' added Clement, 'will you not send a message to yourdaughter-in-law--to Jane, sir?'
'To Jane? Much she cares! Well, if you say I must, and if Edwardforgave me, I suppose--Tell her I'll do my best to forgive--but if shehad never got hold of poor Fulbert--God forgive me--what am I gettingto? Only mind she doesn't do the same by you. Ay, I'm at peace with herand all of 'em! Only don't let her come. God have mercy on me?' The crywas, at least, half bodily.
And so the holy rite began in dark doubt and d
im trust and hope. Howunlike the bright cheeriness and the joy that no man could take awayfrom Edward Underwood's last Communion! This was the last interval ofclear consciousness. All that day he was dying, with just perceptionenough to cling to Clement's presence and voice, as almost unceasinglythe young man held him up, and prayed with and for him with theearnestness of one who held intensely full faith in the might ofintercessory prayer to aid the spirit in the doubtful strife, oftensupported by the thought of the prayers that were rising in so manychurches far away for the struggling and the dying.
Felix was with him at times, but no one could do much to aid hisphysical exertion; and it was needful to keep guard over Mrs. FulbertUnderwood, as long as there was mind enough left for her presence tocause emotion. It had been right of Clement to send for her, but shewas a trying element in the day, though not loud or coarse, but tearfuland affectionate about the dear old Squire's former kindness and thewretched misunderstanding that had come between. There was everyreason to believe her a harpy, but at this moment she could not showher talons; and Felix was divided between sense of humbug and fear ofinjustice during the long uncongenial _tete-a-tete_. The only breaks init were from the doctors. Mr. Page was backwards and forwards the wholeday, and Dr. May came in the course of the morning; but they could donothing but apply these resources of science that seem but to lengthenout the death agony. However, the greatest refreshment of that day wasa turn under the wall with Dr. May, hearing how highly he thought ofClement's whole conduct towards the old man.
'I don't say the lad is altogether after my cut,' said the Doctor.'We old folks used to think ourselves up in the steeple, and now wefind these young ones think us down in the crypts. I'm afraid he maybe bringing a hornet's nest about his ears, but that's all outside;and for the rest, nobody could have had such an effect on poor old FulUnderwood without something very genuine in him.'
'That is quite true,' said Felix; 'Clement has startled us sometimes,but we have never done otherwise than respect his thorough sincerity;and he always shows to the very best in any trouble or trial.'
'Ay,' said Dr. May; 'and I'll tell you another thing I've been slowto find out. It's not one youth in a hundred that if he is moderateenough to stop with what satisfied our--my--generation, has anything inhim. Why, as I saw it well put the other day--Ethel was delighted withthe notion--King Arthur tried to work up the Round Table, and becauseChristian chivalry had raised that generation, comes the Quest of theSancgreal to lead them higher. 'Tis one of the tests of life whether wewill take to our Quest and let others take to it. Tying them down toour Round Table does no good at all. But what am I talking of? You areone of these boys yourself.'
'I suppose I am,' said Felix; 'but I own I should be happier to seethings as my father would have had them.'
'Somehow I saw it in you. Veneration has fixed your standard, I takeit; and you've had all the cares in the world to sober you. Butdepend upon it--I've seen it many a time, in my own boys as well asothers--enthusiasm carries on the work, and where that is, you may beonly too thankful to give a loose rein. A young man must have it outone way or another; and we may well be thankful if he gives it to theChurch, even though he may run into what seems queer to us.'
Felix laid up the conversation for himself and Geraldine, and thoughtit over many times that long day.
Not till late in the evening was the unconsciousness such that Mrs.Underwood could be admitted, and it was not till two in the morningthat the struggle was over. Clement had scarcely tasted anything sincethe hurried, interrupted dinner the previous day, except what hisbrother had almost forced on him at the bed-side; and he was so stiff,spent, and worn out, that Felix could think of nothing till he had seenhim safe in bed.
Nor was it till the clash of the knell had sounded several times,that at eight next morning, Felix gradually awoke; and only slowlydid the strokes, as he mechanically counted them, recall to him thatthe event had happened--that he was in his own house--his mother'srightful inheritance--and that his years of toil and effort were over!To say that his first thought was not exultation would not be true. Therecovery of his natural position, and the possession of such a home forhis sisters, could not but rejoice him, though with it came the senseof responsibility, and of a perplexing knot to be untied, a knot ofwrong to be undone at _any_--yes, at _any_ cost. 'Even if it leave usas poor as heretofore,' he spoke to himself, 'God grant me to prove myfaith in His word as to poverty.'
Ere the tolls had ceased all the multiplied honours they could payto sixty-five years and Squire-rector, Felix saw Clement, instead ofsleeping, on his way to the church. Felix followed thither ere long,and the brothers met at the churchyard gate.
'Well, Clement,' said Felix, as their hands met, 'you have led this toend better than one durst hope.'
'It had all been working long before,' said Clement in a tremblingvoice.
'It has been a terrible time for you. Are you rested?'
'A little stiff and achy--but that will work off, thank you.'
'And now, Clem, you must stand by me, and help me in what is to bedone.'
The two brothers stood looking at the fine old house, the cloisterconnecting it with the church, the spring beauty blossoming round;Clement put his hand on his brother's shoulder, and said, in a halfapologetic tone, 'After all, I can't help being glad it has come to youat last.'
It may be doubted whether any congratulation pleased Felix so much. 'Iam glad to have known it so long beforehand,' he answered. 'I hope weshall be enabled to see the right and do it.'
Clement looked at the church and at the village; and again, with warmimpulse and tears in his eyes, exclaimed, 'I cannot help being glad.Now I have some hope for my poor people.'
'We will do our best,' said Felix; 'and you will bear with me if Idisappoint you.'
'Nay,' said Clement, the tears nearly choking him, 'the really bestthing for the place would be, if you would let me give up, and appointold Flowerdew.'
'What! be driven away by the clan Hepburn?'
'Not that, exactly, except that an older man, who had not made such awretchedly bad beginning, might make all the difference. Till you aresettled in here, you will not conceive the mess I have made of it all.'
'I see you have had a great strain on you; you will look on itdifferently when you have rested.'
'I don't know,' said Clement. 'It is not that I don't care for theplace, Felix,' he added, pleadingly; 'I do now, with all my heart andsoul--it _is_ my charge, and must be--only if I could learn a littlemore, and get rid of a little of my youth and priggishness before Icome back, it would be so much better for the people.'
'Of that last article I think you have got rid considerably.'
'I'm sure there's been enough to take the conceit out of me;' andperhaps he proved it by adding, 'But I leave it to you, Felix; I knowyou think it may be essential to your plans that a brother should holdthe vicarage, and if so, of course I would go on, knowing too whatan immense difference the influence of this house will make, and thehaving you to turn to for advice.'
'If we can live here at all,' said Felix. 'I do not in the least knowthe rights of the property.'
Nor could he tell till after a good deal of talk with the lawyers andlooking over of papers. The funeral was to be on the Saturday, andconducted exactly like that of last year. Felix thought the presentno time for a protest against the seventy-five yards of black cloth.'Though this is the last of it,' he said to Clement, 'I'll have nochurch put in mourning for me.'
He saw very little of his brother, for the house was a good deal besetwith Shaws; and besides, Clement, who was to go up to London on theMonday, had a good deal of parish visiting and business in arrear tomake up, and so far from resting, scarcely sat down or ate. He wouldaccept no assistance at the funeral, but every one remarked how ill helooked. Afterwards there was a public reading of the will, which namedFelix as sole executor as well as heir; and added to the provision forthe daughter-in-law by the settlements a charge of three hundred a yearon the estat
e so long as she should remain a widow. A few very unkindthings were said by the Shaws, which Clement was young enough to mind agood deal, after all his peacemaking efforts, and which made Bernard'seyes flash.
Bernard was to stay with his brothers over the Sunday; but he must havefound it a dull evening, for Clement had a sermon to write, and Felixwas deep in calculations till long after the boy had yawned himself offto bed.
At last Felix knocked at Clement's study-door. 'Up still! Clem, youwant rest.'
'Not I. But I have just finished. How do things turn out?'
'Fairly,' said Felix, showing him a paper where he had drawn up astatement. 'The property altogether, you see, has been counted at fourthousand five hundred a year. Well, out of that Mrs. Underwood haseight hundred a year, and the involvements of Fulbert's debts reduceit a good deal more, so that Mr. Wilder says I must not reckon on morethan two thousand three hundred at present, and of that nine hundredand fifty is the great tithe, and the rent of the Glebe farm is threehundred and seventy. Blackstone Gulley belongs to the estate, and couldnot be sold; but the speculator gave a round sum for a twenty-oneyears' lease, which will not be run out these four years, so we can donothing about that at present. Now, Clem, this nine hundred and fifty ayear--I'm not going to make it over to you bodily. I think that, withthe Glebe Farm, your income as Vicar will be quite as much as is goodfor a parson.'
'I suppose so,' said Clement, laughing; 'I never felt poor in my lifetill I had four hundred a year, and I should be poorer still if I hadfourteen hundred.'
'No wonder, if you subscribe to everything, and pay for whatever iswanted in the parish instead of asking those who ought! I believefour thousand would not make much difference to you, or four hundredthousand either,' said Felix, who had come to some appallingdiscoveries as to Clement's ways of dealing with money.
'Perhaps not,' he answered, good humouredly; 'but what do you mean todo? To be your own ecclesiastical commissioner?'
'Something like it; at any rate, not to put it out of my own handstill I see the best way, and that there will be time to do while itis putting the church and the Glebe cottages into a proper state, andsetting the Vicarage to rights. Perhaps first of all should come aschool-chapel for Blackstone Gully; and as I reckon that all this willtake six or seven years, by that time we shall be able to judge whatis most wanted--a church and endowment for Blackstone, or for thatEwmouth suburb, or both; and when that is done, I would make over therectorial rights to the living.'
'O Felix! I never durst think of anything--so like a dream!' saidClement, looking up at him.
'And you will stay here, Clem? I think you must; for you see I can handover the rent of the glebe, and settle these things with you, taking mytime about them in a way I could not do if the incumbent were not mybrother and my next heir.'
'But I am not your next heir.'
'I have made you so. I thought it right to draw up a very short will,leaving everything to you, with John Harewood as executor, to save thedead lock there would be in case of my coming to some sudden end. I canperfectly trust to you to do right by the sisters and Theodore; andif Edgar, poor fellow! should come home, I know you would hand overto him what is really secular, and you would feel to be his right.But, Clement, you need have the less scruple at my doing this, that Ihave come to think there is little likelihood of the dear fellow beingalive.'
'Indeed!'
'More than a year ago, Fulbert sent me a scrap of newspaper withan account of a man being found murdered by the bush-rangers. Hehad been robbed, and there was nothing about him to lead to hisidentification; but the diggers he had last been with called him NedWood. Fulbert went to the place and made all possible inquiries, butcould find out nothing, but that he had been noted for singing, and waslight-complexioned. Fulbert himself believes it; and I think nothingelse would have led Fernan to give up his search. I thought it soentirely vague and improbable, that I let no one but Lance see theletter; indeed, I so utterly disbelieved it, that it did not dwell onme at the time; but the longer we are without hearing, the more I amdriven to believe it.'
'You have not told Cherry?'
'If it were a certainty, I could not tell her half what Fulbert heard.I have never spoken to her about it. I will not take away her hope onsuch grounds.'
'I think you are right. I do not think anything of this story myself.'
'Nor I, at times when I think of "the child of so many prayers,"' saidFelix. 'But with such a dreadful possibility, never to be cleared up,you see it would never do to leave things unsettled; so I just did thisfor the present.'
'Yes, it can be altered at need,' said Clement, with a long breath.
'This house,' said Felix, returning to business, 'is clearly our own;and you will go on with us of course for the present, if we can livehere. It has certainly been a priory, but I do not therefore feel boundto restore that; I have read and thought much about those religioushouses, and I think that there is no call to give them up as things nowstand.'
'If?'
'I must talk it over with some of the financial heads. Of course I wishit for the girls, and my own duty seems to lie here; but if it will notdo, I must let the place till the entanglements clear themselves.'
'Let the place? What! and go on with the business?' cried Clement, inconsternation.
'I must keep on the business any way.'
'Felix! Impossible! In your position--'
'I cannot have the position if I cannot have the business. Look at it:here is Bernard to be educated, and Lance to go to the University, andfour girls without any provision worth naming, besides Theodore; andhow is all to be done out of less than a thousand pounds a year, withthis house and grounds to be kept up, and where people are used to seefive thousand spent?'
'Could you not sell the business?'
'Of course I could; but judging by what I have gathered during thisyear, the capital I should receive would not bring me in anything inproportion to what I make now; and I cannot afford to lose so much.'
'I don't see that you are a bit better off than you were before!'
'Rather worse, as far as money goes.--But this place! You don't feelthe charm of it half enough. What will it not be to Cherry, and littleStella? I do think Cherry will get along here; though Wilmet will saywe ought not to try. But I shall pay off all the servants on Monday,and we'll start on a new tack.'
'Yes; I believe they have preyed awfully on the old Squire. There's notone I should wish to keep, in-door or out-door.'
'Then we would begin on a smaller scale, and harden ourselves againsttraditions. I would get a real good assistant for Lamb, go backwardsand forwards, and keep on the Pursuivant myself as before.'
'The Pursuivant is all very well. It is a valuable influence: but can'tyou keep that, and drop the retail affair?'
'I can't give up three hundred a year for the honour of the thing.'
'But if I live with you, could you not keep the rent of the Glebe farmas my board?'
'You certainly have been sumptuously maintained here, but hardly at thecost of three hundred and seventy pounds! No; I think it would be onlyfair that you should give a hundred towards the housekeeping, as Mr.Audley used to do, and something more for your horse; but to take anymore would only be robbing the Church under another form.'
'I don't like it! It will do you harm in the neighbourhood. You willnever take your proper place;' then, as Felix half smiled, 'you wonderat these arguments from me? Yes, but I know the neighbourhood betterthan you do, and I do not like to see your influence and usefulnesscrippled.'
'That may be; but the choice lies between being looked down on forbeing in trade and continuing in this wrong to the Church.'
'Surely we could live at small expense here! We have all been used tofrugality.'
'Yes, and I have seen that stinting has not a happy effect. In sucha house as this, we cannot live as we have done at home. We can dowithout display, but plain hospitality we must have, and debt would beworse than trade. Ah, Clem! the old home
has made you the exclusivearistocrat again! Recollect, such a restitution must involve sacrificeof some sort. We must have the Underwood "rood" some way or other. Youare ready enough to let it be in money and luxury, but can't you let itbe in--what shall I call it--consideration? That is, if it does makeany difference, or if we find it out.'
'You'll find it out fast enough from the Miss Hepburns,' mutteredClement.
Felix laughed 'Poor Clem! Hepburns first and last! I'm sorry todisgrace you!'
But during that laugh Clement had bethought himself. 'I beg yourpardon, Felix; you are a lesson to me. I did not know that it was theworld that was arguing in me. To go on working in trade in order tomake restitution to the Church is heroism I did not grasp at first.'
'Perhaps,' said Felix more lightly, 'it is all reluctance to give upbeing somebody at Bexley for the sake of being nobody in Ewshire. Don'tlook so unhappy, old fellow; University men and beneficed clergy,like you, think much of what I was inured to long ago. Come, put outyour lamp, and come up to bed; I am sure you can't finish that sermonto-night.'
'If I did,' said Clement, shutting it up, 'it would be to say I was notworth ever to preach again!'
Perhaps Felix, who had entirely disbelieved the report of Edgar'sfate till his mind had in a manner become accustomed to the idea, hadunderrated the amount of shock that it would give Clement, who hadnever been half so much attached to poor Edgar as himself; nor perhapsmight it have done so, but for the unnerved overstrained condition towhich the year's solitude and responsibility, the months of nursing,and the days of severe fatigue, had brought him.
Felix was wakened from his first sleep by the strangled scream ofnightmare in the next room, and hastening in, broke the spell, andfound that poor Clement had been dreaming out what he had told him, andhad deemed himself bound, gagged, struggling to come to Edgar's aid,and ask his pardon for having done him some horrible injury, the loadof which did not at first pass with awakening.
'No,' he said, when he had entirely resumed his waking powers, 'it istoo true! Things never were as they ought to have been between us! Whoknows what difference it might have made!'
'Of course,' said Felix, thinking that to talk it all out would conduceto Clement's quieter rest. 'We can all look back to much that we wouldhave had otherwise; but I trace the original mischief to those dayswhen Mr. Ryder, young and eager, talked out all his crudities to thecleverest boy in his school, just as he had done to his Oxford friends.He feels it himself, I think. He gave unintentionally a sort ofresource against whatever was distasteful, and made all the scepticismthat the poor dear fellow was exposed to abroad not seem a mere foreignaberration. Somehow he was afraid of what religion might do to him, andso took refuge not so much in doubt, as in knowing it was doubted. Theonly thing that I ever knew touch him, was something Lance said to himabout refusing to go and live with him in London.'
'Yes; his brightness did good, where my assumptions only added to thegeneral contempt.'
'Still, the more I think, the more I do believe that whether we everknow it or not, so sweet and loving a nature must come right at last.'
And there in the dark those two brothers knelt down together and indeep undertones uttered a few clauses of intense prayer. Then Clementsaid in a broken voice, 'Felix, _do_ keep your present room, and let ussay this together every night.'
And the elder brother's only answer was such a fatherly kiss as he gavethe younger ones. They remembered that night long after!
On the Sunday Clement was not only exhausted and unwell, but couldnot help allowing it, for he fainted after his first service, and wasforced to allow himself to lie by whenever he was not actually needed,letting Felix spare him whatever was possible. Thus it was that the newSquire astonished the natives by taking the Vicar's Sunday class in thestable that served for the school. By-the-by, instead of receiving sucha lecture as used to be the penalty of intrusting his own Bexley boysto Clement, he was now dejectedly forewarned that the Vale Lestonitesdid not know half as much, and had the more reason to think it truebecause such an extraordinary proceeding on a Squire's part filled themwith blank speechless amazement.
The congregation were equally full of wonder, approaching toincredulity, when their new Mr. Underwood stood forth surpliced, andread the Lessons. He had done the like often for Mr. Flowerdew; buthe would not have thus amazed the villagers on this first Sunday ifhe had not been really uneasy as to their Vicar's powers of gettingthrough the services. And it really was a memorable thing, to Clementat least, to hear his full clear beautiful voice setting forth thedelights of the Land of Promise, the goodly houses and fields, and thewarnings that he was verily taking to himself against the heart beinglifted up, and forgetting, or turning to serve the gods the formernations had served--the gods may be of family pride, and pleasure, andease, and comfort. To Clement it seemed as though he read the wholemagnificent chapter of Deuteronomy like a manifesto of his own futurecourse, declaring all against which he meant to beware. It was justas, when he had to seal up a bundle of papers that evening, he tookup a big old white cornelian seal with the family shield, and said,squeezing it down into a deep well-prepared bed of red sealing-wax,'There, I never did that before; I couldn't be liable for armorialbearings!' And as Bernard exclaimed, 'Yes, now you are a gentlemanout and out!' he answered gravely, 'Not forgetting the motto, Bear.Remember what we take up.'
'There's no sense in those old sing-song saws,' boldly averred Bernard.
'Perhaps you'll know better some day.'
Felix went himself to St Matthew's with Clement, and had a privateconference with Mr. Fulmort, the result of which was, that the seniorcurate, very glad of a breath of May loveliness, went down for threeweeks to Vale Leston, while the Vicar thereof refreshed his spirit atSt Matthew's, and that when he went back again he was to take with himthe Reverend Frederick Somers, to stay till the family move shouldbring him other companions.
The only sister within reasonable distance was Robina; and Felix couldnot deny himself a call on her, especially as there were no furtherconsiderations about incommoding the family with her relations. Hewas shown into a big drawing-room, not at the moment inhabited, butwith the air of being used by easy-going happy people; and almostimmediately in flew the neat trim black-silken personage with the sunnyround face he had come in search of.
'Felix! dear Felix! how nice and good to come in all your glory! Ladyde la Poer was in the school-room, and she told me to ask you tostay to luncheon. Do, pray! I want you to see her and Grace, and mychildren.'
'Very well. If I do, can you come out with me afterwards? I want yourhelp.'
'Oh yes! I am sure I shall be able. I'll ask at luncheon, if Lady de laPoer does not offer.'
'Have you spoken to her?'
'Told her? Of course. We had quite a festival in the schoolroom, andall drank your health in cowslip wine. We had had a whole lot ofcowslips sent up from the Towers; and their papa came in, and wanted toknow if Mr. Underwood were not worthy of a more generous beverage. Oh,I wish he were at home; I want you to see him!' ('And him to see you,'she had on the tip of her tongue, but she thought he would not like it.)
'And when are you coming home?'
'When you all go to take possession. I would not lose that foranything. I am to have my holiday then.'
'Holiday! You are coming for good.'
'Don't you think,' she said, looking up in his face, 'that after allthis education on purpose for a teacher, it would be a shame to throwit all up and come to live on you?'
'That was just one of the things I value this inheritance for, Robin.There's no fear but that you would find plenty to do.'
'You have three to do it,' she said; 'and the more Angela has on herhands the better she will get on. I have been thinking it over eversince you wrote, Felix, and I cannot see that your having an estatemakes it right in me to live dependent when I can maintain myself. Itwould not if I were your brother.'
'You are not going in for women's rights, Bob?' he said, smiling.
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bsp; 'Not out-and-out. But listen. What you have for us is just the run ofthe house, isn't it?'
'Well, yes,' he hesitated. 'It will take some time and prudence to makea provision for you, you horribly wise bird!'
'Then would it not be foolish to come and eat up your provision at homewhen I can do something towards making one myself; and I am really veryhappy?' and there was colour enough in her cheek slightly to startleher brother.
'Oh, if you are too happy here to come away--'
'Don't say that! she cried. 'I like it, for they are all kind andbright; and I never had such a friend as Lady Grace--and I feel as if Iwere doing a duty; but--oh no!--'
'Don't be so horribly discomfited, my dear. Only when young ladies areso happy away from home, and want to make a provision--My dear littlesister, I beg your pardon--'
'Stay, Felix; I must tell you now, that you may not fancy anything sodreadful as that it is any one here.'
'Then there's an "it is," after all!'
'No! oh, I don't know! I tried to speak to Wilmet, and she would notlet me; but when we were both ridiculous children, a little foolishnonsense passed between him and me.'
'Whom?'
'Willie!'
'Will Harewood? I thought that was all the Bailey nonsense.'
'I can't tell,' said Robina, leaning against him and looking down. 'Doall I can, I can't forget the sort of--of promise; and I've never beensure whether he meant it, but--but I think he did. O Fee! is it bad ofme?'
'My sweet Bob,' he said, and kissed her, 'I am glad you have told me. Inever thought of such an affair being on your little mind. I must say Iwish it had not happened.'
'No, don't say that,' said Robina. 'It does not worry me;' and shelaughed at the very sound of the words. 'Why, can't you see how happyI am? and I _mean_ to be. I know how good and nice he is; and if hedoesn't remember, or can't do it, there's no harm done. (This was ina tone brave because it was incredulous.) But if ever it did come toanything, I should like to have something to help on with.'
'Very practical and business-like, my bird! And I am afraid it is asign it goes deep!' he said musingly.
'Deep!' she said, looking up to him, 'of course it does! It would bevery odd if it did not! But that will only make me glad of whatever isgood for Will; and I think the waiting is all right. I do want to havedone something for him! The only question is whether it will be bad foryou at Vale Leston to have a governess sister.'
'There's worse than that, Robin,' said Felix, gravely, 'for the Squirehimself remains a bookseller!'
'You don't mean that!'
He briefly explained.
'That quite settles it,' she said. 'I could not go home and live inidleness while you were working on.'
'I believe you are right, Robin; but I am disappointed. I did reckon onmy sisters living like ladies!'
'Isn't three enough for you,' laughed Robin, 'to set up in a row andwait upon, as Stella does on her dolls?'
'Precisely so. I don't think I could have let you turn Effective Femaleon my hands, if you hadn't a pretty little feminine aim of your own.'
'For shame, Felix! Don't ever think about that again! Only tell me whento ask for my holiday.'
'There are a few repairs that must be done at once; besides I've made aclean sweep of the servants, and turned in old Tripp's daughter to dofor Clement. I don't think we can possibly be ready for a month or sixweeks.'
By this time the gong was sounding; and Lady de la Poer came in with akind and friendly greeting. Felix soon found himself in the midst of alarge family party of all ages, full of bright mirth, among whom Robinaspoke and moved with home-like ease, and he himself took his place asnaturally as it was given to him. Lady de la Poer knew a little ofEwshire, and talked to him about it in the pleasantest manner, givingthe sense of congratulation without obtruding it; and she, withoutwaiting to be requested--proposed Miss Underwood's going out with him,proclaiming that she would herself take the children into KensingtonGardens.
Then, while Robina was gone to prepare, she said, 'Your sister told meshe does not wish to leave us. I said I could not consider the answeras final till she had seen you. Perhaps I ought not till she has seenyour new home.'
'Thank you,' said Felix. 'I confess it seemed to me startlingly prudentand independent; but when I came to think it over, I could hardly saythat the child is wrong.'
'We were very glad, as you may believe, to find that she was happyenough to be willing to stay on. Indeed, we both feel the benefit notonly to the little ones, but of the companionship to the elder girls.Grace is especially fond of her, and I hope it will be a lastingfriendship.'
Felix coloured as one very much pleased, and made some acknowledgment.
'There's a sturdy fearless good sense, and yet liveliness, about her,'continued the lady, 'which has already been of great use to Grace, whois naturally all ups and downs. However, if she changes her mind amongthe attractions of home, we promise not to feel ill-used.'
'What is Mamma saying?' exclaimed Lady Grace in person, entering theroom with Robina as her mother was speaking. 'Is she pretending that weshall not feel ill-used if Miss Underwood deserts us? No such thing! Ishall never forgive her--never! If you try to persuade her, mind, it isat peril of being haunted by the ghost of a forlorn maiden, pined todeath for a faithless friend!'
'You don't half like to trust her with Mr. Underwood,' said her mother,laughing.
'I told you how good he was, Gracie,' interposed Robina.
'He is pretending to consent, and he means to undermine me! It will bejust like Beauty and the Beast. Your sisters will do their eyes withonions, to work on your feelings; and then you'll stay on, and find thepoor Beast--that's me--at the last gasp!'
'That will be when she goes home,' said Felix, laughing. 'I promise tobring her safe back now, Lady Grace; but surely you have enough sistersof your own to spare me mine!'
'Now listen, Mr. Underwood. It is true, as a matter of history andgenealogy, that I've got five sisters; but Number Two--that's Mary--ismarried, and no good to anybody; and Number One--that's Fanny--isalways looking after her when she is not looking after Mamma. ThenAdelaide, whom nature designed for my own proper sister, is altogetherdevoted to Kate Caergwent, and cares for nobody else; and as to thelittle ones--why, they are only nine and ten, and good for nothing butan excuse for having Miss Underwood in the house! Now is not it truethat you have three sisters already at your beck and call?'
'Two, I allow; but the third is hardly at any one's beck.'
'What, that most entertaining person, Angela? I don't think we have hadsuch fun in the school-room since Kate's maddest days.'
'My dear, I think you have a remnant of them,' said Lady de la Poer.'Let Miss Underwood go; I am sure her brother has no time to spare.'
'I hope,' said Felix, when they were in the street, 'that Angel has notbeen exposing herself there.'
'No, no, not much,' said Robina, hesitating. 'The first time or two shewas asked to tea in the school-room she kept me sitting on thorns, andliked it--the wicked child; but after all, there is something abouttheir manners that keeps her in check; they are so merry, and yetso refined. I think nothing improves her so much as an evening withthem--except, indeed, when there's any external element.'
'External element?'
'Anything that--that excites her,' hastily said Robina. 'But is notLady Grace delightful?'
'She seems passionately fond of you--or was it a young lady's stronglanguage?'
'Oh, she means it, dear Gracie! She is lonely, you see. Lady Adelaideis rather a wise one, and she and Lady Caergwent read and study deep,and have plans together, and leave poor Grace out; and they all teaseher for being so excitable.'
'Well, I thought she was almost crying while she talked her nonsense.'
'Just so I think her the sweetest of them all, because she feels soeasily; but her sisters do snub her a little. And my Lady herself--isnot she exactly one's imagination of a real great lady?'
'_Creme de la Creme?_'
<
br /> 'Yes, perfect dignity and simplicity, and as tender and careful amother all the time as a cottage woman. I never felt any one somother-like, even to me.'
'I can quite believe that. Yes, if you _are_ to work, you could hardlydo so more comfortably.'
It was a concession, and Robina had to put up with it; for as theyturned into Piccadilly he changed the subject by demanding, 'Now,Robin, what shall it be? Seal-skins?'
'Seal-skins in the height of summer?'
'I thought all ladies pined for seal-skins. We have half a column ofadvertisements of them at a time.'
'You don't want to extend the business to them?'
'No, but to give one to each of my sisters.'
'They are a monstrous price, you know. You should have heard Lord de laPoer grumble when Addie and Grace had theirs!'
'Fifty pound will do the five, I suppose?'
'I thought there were heavy expenses, and not much ready money.'
'There's enough for that, and I mean it. I shall not know that I havecome into my fortune till I have taken home something to show for it.'
'I wonder what Wilmet would say.'
'Wilmet is not my master, and a chit like you had best not try herline. It won't do, with your face and figure.'
Robina could only laugh, and feel that she was still Felix's child, andif he chose to be extravagant she could not stop him.
'Which shall it be?' he continued; 'seal-skins, or silk gowns, oranything of jewellery?'
'Jewellery would last longest, and none of us have got any,' saidRobin; 'but I believe you like the seals best.'
'I want to stroke Cherry in one. And wouldn't Wilmet look grand? Shehasn't got one, has she?'
'No. I was out with her and John last winter, when she dragged him pastthe shop.'
'I thought you were aping her! Well, I've broken loose, and she willhave no choice now.'
'You don't mean to include Alda?'
'Poor Alda! Seal-skins have ceased to be an object to her; but I havehad a very warm letter from her.'
So Robina was only allowed the privilege of assisting in the selectionof the smooth brown coats and muffs. Felix insisted on despatching Mrs.John Harewood's to her at once; and he wanted to send Angela's, butyielded, on Robin's representation of the impossibility of her puttingit away in any security from the moth. His exultation in his purchaseswas very amusing, as he stroked them like so many cats, as if hewere taking seisin of his inheritance. And when, some hours later, hesprang out of the train, and was met by the station-master with, 'Mr.Underwood! allow me to offer my most sincere congratulations,' andeverybody ran for his luggage as never before, he still clung close tohis precious parcel, like a child with a new toy, even to his own door,which was suddenly opened at his bell, Sibby crying aloud, 'No, no,Martha, not a sowl shall open the door, barring meself, to me own boythat's come to his own again, an' got the better of all the nagurs thatkep' him out. Blessings on you, Masther Felix, me jewel, an' long lifeto you to reign over it!' And she really had her arms round his neck,kissing him.
'Well done, Sibby, and thank you! Your heart warms to the old place,does it?' and he held out a hand to the less demonstrative Martha, whostood curtseying, and observing, 'I wish you joy, Sir.'
By that time Stella had flown upon him, Theodore was clinging to hisleg, Lance half way downstairs, and Cherry hanging over the balusters.
'You villain!' were Lance's first words; 'why didn't you come home bydaylight? All the establishment waited till the six o'clock train wasin to give you three times three!'
'And now you are come,' added Cherry, 'stand there, right in themiddle! I want to see how a Squire looks!'
He obeyed by planting his feet like a colossus, tucking his umbrellaunder his arm like a whip, putting on his hat over his brow, andaltogether assuming the conventional jolly Squire attitude, which wasgreeted by shrieks of laughter and applause.
'Now let me see how a Squire's sister looks,' he continued, opening hisparcel, and thrusting Stella into the first coat that came to hand,which being Angela's, came down to her heels.
Cherry shouted, 'Like the brown bear!' and Scamp began to bark, andwas forcibly withheld by Lance from demolishing the little brown muffthat rolled out; while Felix turned on Cherry with the jacket meantfor Stella; and she, in convulsions of merriment, could do nothing butshriek, 'Cyrus! Cyrus! Cyrus!'
'Well, then, take the great coat, puss,' said Felix. 'Here, Stella, letme pull you out of that! That's more like it!'
'My dear Felix,' continued Cherry, in great affected gravity, 'arethese the official garments wherein we are to be installed? Nearly assevere as royal ermine.'
'Don't scold, Whiteheart. I had enough of that from the wise Robinbefore she would help me choose them. I had set my heart on them.'
'Dear old Giant!' cried Cherry, craning up to kiss him; 'he couldn'tbelieve he had a landed estate till he had seen it on our backs! But,'she added, fearing to be disappointing, 'I never knew before what itwas to be sleek and substantial. If ever I did covet a thing, it wasthe coat of a seal.'
'But how is Mr. Froggatt, Lance?'
'As well as can be expected,' was Lance's reply. 'He congratulates withtears in his eyes, says you deserve it, but bemoans poor Pur, till I amminded to tell him that I'll stick by him and the concern; for reallyI don't know what else I'm good for, and honest Lamb couldn't write aleader to save his life.'
'I'll walk over to-morrow, and set him at rest,' said Felix. 'I couldnot drop Pur if I would.'
'I'm so glad,' said Cherry. 'I felt quite sad over the proofs, likecasting off an old friend.'
'Or kicking adrift the plank that has brought one to land. I knewCherry would have broken her heart to part with Pur.'
'Besides, it is a real power and influence,' added Cherry; 'and itis so improved. We had up a whole file of it for years back. WillieHarewood had lost some of his earlier March Hare poems, and thoughtthey were there; so he and I hunted over reams of ancient Pur, andcouldn't find them after all. I believe you had declined them; and theywould have been lost to the world if Lance hadn't written to Robina,and she had copies of them all, laid up in lavender.'
'And they are the most splendid of all!' said Lance.
'Only too good for the Pursuivant,' laughed Felix.
'Well,' said Cherry, 'Will and I held up our hands to find how stupidPur used to be four or five years ago, when you were in bondage to Mr.Froggatt's fine words and his fears.'
'Yes, and had no opposition to put us on our mettle,' added Lance.'The Tribune was the making of the Pursuivant; I'm inclined to offerit a testimonial. By-the-by, Felix, are you prepared for a testimonialyourself--or at the very least, a dinner in the Town Hall, from yourfellow citizens? They're all agog about it.'
'On the principle that "as long as thou doest well unto thyself menwill speak good of thee?"' asked Felix. 'No,' correcting himself,'that's hardly fair; there's kind feeling in it, too; but perhaps theywill let me off when they find it is not a farewell.'
'Not!'
'Now, Cherry and Lance, I want you to look at this statement. Clementhas seen it, of course; but I don't want it to go any further, exceptto Jack. It is enough to say that I find the property a good dealburthened, which is only too true.'
'You don't seem to have much of a bargain!' said Lance, coming round toread over Cherry's shoulder.
'The question is whether Cherry can trample on Underwood traditions,and keep house for a thousand a year where people expect three or fourtimes the sum to be laid out.'
'I thought you reckoned things here at five hundred.'
'Hardly so much. We shall have to get our old bugbear, the superiorassistant. Besides, Lance, now's your time. You must begin to get readyfor Oxford at once.'
'I?' said Lance. 'No, thank you, Felix. Clement offered me the samelast year, but my head wouldn't stand grinding nohow. No, if you stickto the old plank, so will I. I was more than half wishing it before,and ready to break my heart at leaving the organ to some stick of myLady's cho
osing, only I didn't know what you might think due to themanes of the Underwoods.'
'The manes of the Underwoods must make up their minds to a good deal,'said Felix; 'but is it really true that you do not think yourself fitfor study?'
'No, but music I can combine with the work here,' said Lance; 'andthat would save the superior assistant, and you will be free to make agentleman of Bear.'
'Yes, that must be done,' said Felix. 'Even Stoneborough will not donow. He is such a cocky little chap, that the only chance for him isto get him to a great public school, where this promotion will seemnothing to anybody.'
'My poor little Bear! I am very glad,' said Cherry. 'And he is stillyoung enough; yet it hardly seems fair, when all his elders had to earntheir own education.'
'Such as it was!' interjected Lance.
'Yes,' said Felix; 'and when I remember the sighs my father now andthen let out about Eton or Harrow, I feel bound to give the benefit tothe one who can take it; but I don't like the spending two hundred ayear on that boy, and then leaving you, Lance, to all the drudgery, anda solitary house.'
'That matters the less,' said Lance, 'because I am busy with the choirand with practice two evenings in the week, and should be more, if itwasn't for doing the agreeable to Cherry.'
'He'll turn into a misogynist, like Mr. Miles,' laughed Cherry.
'No, he'll be consumed by an unrequited affection for all the youngladies that come in with the loveliest eyes in the world,' said Felix.
'He'll set the March Hare poetry to music, and serenade them with it,'added Cherry.
'No, I shall cultivate the Frogs,' said Lance. 'It would be too bad tohave left the poor old boy in the lurch.'
'Yes, that has weighed a good deal with me,' said Felix. 'I'mdetermined that they shall come and stay with us at the Priory as soonas we can get it in order, and before the winter. I'll bring them upmyself. You see, Lance, whenever I take a turn here you can be at home.'
'Home! he has begun already!'
'It was home to me first, and I always feel that it is whenever I comein sight of it. Lancey, boy, when I think of leaving you here, it seemsletting you sacrifice yourself too much!'
'Nonsense, Blunderbore. You can't give this back to the Church if wedon't keep off your hands; and next, that _coup d'etat_ addled mybrains so far that I'm good for no work but this that I have driftedinto.'
'Then, Cherry, you must help me make an estimate of the expenses, andsee whether we can venture to live at the Priory, or whether we mustlet it, and go on here for seven years.'
'Oh!' They both looked very blank.
'I'd rather live on bread and cheese in the country,' said Cherry.
'So had I,' said Felix, 'if the manes of the Underwoods are appeasable.One step is a riddance of all the servants; I wonder how many you cando with. Five maids and five men I paid off, only keeping on one man,to look after Clem's horse and see to the garden.'
'By-the-bye,' said Lance, 'George Lightfoot begged me to state thathis sister is at home, and always had a great wish to live with MissUnderwood.'
'Let her come and speak to me, then,' said Cherry; 'though I amafraid she must moderate her expectations. It seems to me that exceptfor the honour of the thing, this is another version of our oldfriend--"poortith cauld."'
'Our best friend, maybe, Cherry,' said Felix, 'if we can only heartilybelieve it?'
'His bride, as truly as St. Francis's,' thought she; 'and without thecredit of it.'
The Pillars of the House; Or, Under Wode, Under Rode, Vol. 2 (of 2) Page 12