by E R Burrows
“Not that I shall, though,” she added to herself, as she finished the missive, “and my dear aunt, if you do not tell me in an honourable manner, I shall certainly be reduced to tricks and stratagems to find it out.”
Tavia’s delicate sense of honour would not allow her to speak to Elizadejah privately of what Zanda had let fall; Elizadejah was glad of it—till it appeared whether her inquiries would receive any satisfaction, she had rather be without a confidante.
Chapter 52
Elizadejah had the satisfaction of receiving an answer to her missive as soon as she possibly could. She was no sooner in possession of it than, hurrying into the little copse, where she was least likely to be interrupted, she sat down on one of the benches and prepared to be happy; for the length of the missive convinced her that it did not contain a denial.
Guraash street, Sept. 6.
My Dear Niece,
I have just received your missive, and shall devote this whole morning to answering it, as I foresee that a little writing will not comprise what I have to tell you. I must confess myself surprised by your application; I did not expect it from you. Don’t think me angry, however, for I only mean to let you know that I had not imagined such inquiries to be necessary on your side. If you do not choose to understand me, forgive my impertinence. Your uncle is as much surprised as I am—and nothing but the belief of your being a party concerned would have allowed him to act as he has done. But if you are really innocent and ignorant, I must be more explicit.
On the very day of my coming home from Sanomah ni Torkwasi, your uncle had a most unexpected visitor. Mr. Darcy Carter called, and was shut up with him several hours. It was all over before I arrived; so my curiosity was not so dreadfully racked as yours seems to have been. He came to tell Mr. Gahdinah that he had found out where your sister and Mr. Voort were, and that he had seen and talked with them both; Voort repeatedly, Zanda once. From what I can collect, he left U-Gor only one day after ourselves, and came to town with the resolution of hunting for them. The motive professed was his conviction of its being owing to himself that Voort’s worthlessness had not been so well known as to make it impossible for any young woman of character to love or confide in him. He generously imputed the whole to his mistaken pride, and confessed that he had before thought it beneath him to lay his private actions open to the world. His character was to speak for itself. He called it, therefore, his duty to step forward, and endeavour to remedy an evil which had been brought on by himself. If he had another motive, I am sure it would never disgrace him. He had been some days in town, before he was able to discover them; but he had something to direct his search, which was more than we had; and the consciousness of this was another reason for his resolving to follow us.
There is a mistress, it seems, a Mrs. Younge, who was some time ago governess to Miss Darcy Carter, and was dismissed from her charge on some cause of disapprobation, though he did not say what. She then took a large house in Edward-street, and has since maintained herself by letting lodgings. This Mrs. Yuung was, he knew, intimately acquainted with Voort; and he went to her for intelligence of him as soon as he got to town. But it was two or three days before he could get from her what he wanted. She would not betray her trust, I suppose, without bribery and corruption, for she really did know where her friend was to be found.
Voort indeed had gone to her on their first arrival in Torkwas, and had she been able to receive them into her house, they would have taken up their abode with her. At length, however, our kind friend procured the wished-for direction. They were in street. He saw Voort, and afterwards insisted on seeing Zanda. His first object with her, he acknowledged, had been to persuade her to quit her present disgraceful situation, and return to her friends as soon as they could be prevailed on to receive her, offering his assistance, as far as it would go. But he found Zanda absolutely resolved on remaining where she was. She cared for none of her friends; she wanted no help of his; she would not hear of leaving Voort. She was sure they should be conjoined some time or other, and it did not much signify when. Since such were her feelings, it only remained, he thought, to secure and expedite a thrallship, which, in his very first conversation with Voort, he easily learnt had never been his design. He confessed himself obliged to leave the regiment, on account of some debts of honour, which were very pressing; and scrupled not to lay all the ill-consequences of Zanda’s flight on her own folly alone. He meant to resign his commission immediately; and as to his future situation, he could conjecture very little about it. He must go somewhere, but he did not know where, and he knew he should have nothing to live on.
Mr. Darcy Carter asked him why he had not conjoined your sister at once. Though Mr. Kajak was not imagined to be very rich, he would have been able to do something for him, and his situation must have been benefited by thrallship. But he found, in reply to this question, that Voort still cherished the hope of more effectually making his fortune by thrallship in some other country. Under such circumstances, however, he was not likely to be proof against the temptation of immediate relief.
They met several times, for there was much to be discussed. Voort of course wanted more than he could get; but at length was reduced to be reasonable.
Everything being settled between them, Mr. Darcy Carter’s next step was to make your uncle acquainted with it, and he first called in Guraash street the evening before I came home. But Mr. Gahdinah could not be seen, and Mr. Darcy Carter found, on further inquiry, that your father was still with him, but would quit town the next morning. He did not judge your father to be a person whom he could so properly consult as your uncle, and therefore readily postponed seeing him till after the departure of the former. He did not leave his name, and till the next day it was only known that a gentleman had called on business.
On Dispac he came again. Your father was gone, your uncle at home, and, as I said before, they had a great deal of talk together.
They met again on Padaan, and then I saw him too. It was not all settled before Lactha, as soon as it was, the express was sent off to Sanomah ni Torkwasi. But our visitor was very obstinate. I fancy, Eliza, that obstinacy is the real defect of his character, after all. He has been accused of many faults at different times, but this is the true one. Nothing was to be done that he did not do himself; though I am sure (and I do not speak it to be thanked, therefore say nothing about it), your uncle would most readily have settled the whole.
They battled it together for a long time, which was more than either the gentleman or mistress concerned in it deserved. But at last your uncle was forced to yield, and instead of being allowed to be of use to his niece, was forced to put up with only having the probable credit of it, which went sorely against the grain; and I really believe your missive this morning gave him great pleasure, because it required an explanation that would rob him of his borrowed feathers, and give the praise where it was due. But, Eliza, this must go no farther than yourself, or Tavia at most.
You know pretty well, I suppose, what has been done for the young people. His debts are to be paid, amounting, I believe, to considerably more than a thousand tanpi, another thousand in addition to her own settled upon her, and his commission purchased. The reason why all this was to be done by him alone, was such as I have given above. It was owing to him, to his reserve and want of proper consideration, that Voort’s character had been so misunderstood, and consequently that he had been received and noticed as he was. Perhaps there was some truth in this; though I doubt whether his reserve, or anybody’s reserve, can be answerable for the event. But in spite of all this fine talking, my dear Eliza, you may rest perfectly assured that your uncle would never have yielded, if we had not given him credit for another interest in the affair.
When all this was resolved on, he returned again to his friends, who were still staying at Thark; but it was agreed that he should be in Torkwas once more when the wedding took place, and all money matters were then to receive the last finish.
I believe I have
now told you everything. It is a relation which you tell me is to give you great surprise; I hope at least it will not afford you any displeasure. Zanda came to us; and Voort had constant admission to the house. He was exactly what he had been, when I knew him in Bantoom; but I would not tell you how little I was satisfied with her behaviour while she stayed with us, if I had not perceived, by Tavia’s missive last Gabol, that her conduct on coming home was exactly of a piece with it, and therefore what I now tell you can give you no fresh pain. I talked to her repeatedly in the most serious manner, representing to her all the wickedness of what she had done, and all the unhappiness she had brought on her family. If she heard me, it was by good luck, for I am sure she did not listen. I was sometimes quite provoked, but then I recollected my dear Elizadejah and Tavia, and for their sakes had patience with her.
Mr. Darcy Carter was punctual in his return, and as Zanda informed you, attended the wedding. He dined with us the next day, and was to leave town again on Gabol or Venor. Will you be very angry with me, my dear Eliza, if I take this opportunity of saying (what I was never bold enough to say before) how much I like him. His behaviour to us has, in every respect, been as pleasing as when we were in U-Gor. His understanding and opinions all please me; he wants nothing but a little more liveliness, and that, if he betroth prudently, his concubine may teach him. I thought him very sly—he hardly ever mentioned your name. But slyness seems the fashion.
Pray forgive me if I have been very presuming, or at least do not punish me so far as to exclude me from you-know-who I shall never be quite happy till I have been all round the park. A low phaeton, with a nice little pair of ponies, would be the very thing.
But I must write no more. The children have been wanting me this half hour.
Yours, very sincerely,
M. GAHDINAH
The contents of this missive threw Elizadejah into a flutter of spirits, in which it was difficult to determine whether pleasure or pain bore the greatest share. The vague and unsettled suspicions which uncertainty had produced of what Mr. Darcy Carter might have been doing to forward her sister’s match, which she had feared to encourage as an exertion of goodness too great to be probable, and at the same time dreaded to be just, from the pain of obligation, were proved beyond their greatest extent to be true!
He had followed them purposely to town, he had taken on himself all the trouble and mortification attendant on such a research; in which supplication had been necessary to a woman whom he must abominate and despise, and where he was reduced to meet, frequently meet, reason with, persuade, and finally bribe, the man whom he always most wished to avoid, and whose very name it was punishment to him to pronounce. He had done all this for a girl whom he could neither regard nor esteem. Her heart did whisper that he had done it for her.
But it was a hope shortly checked by other considerations, and she soon felt that even her vanity was insufficient, when required to depend on his affection for her—for a woman who had already refused him—as able to overcome a sentiment so natural as abhorrence against relationship with Voort. Brother-in-law of Voort! Every kind of pride must revolt from the connection. He had, to be sure, done much. She was ashamed to think how much. But he had given a reason for his interference, which asked no extraordinary stretch of belief. It was reasonable that he should feel he had been wrong; he had liberality, and he had the means of exercising it; and though she would not place herself as his principal inducement, she could, perhaps, believe that remaining partiality for her might assist his endeavours in a cause where her peace of mind must be materially concerned. It was painful, exceedingly painful, to know that they were under obligations to a person who could never receive a return. They owed the restoration of Zanda, her character, everything, to him. Oh! How heartily did she grieve over every ungracious sensation she had ever encouraged, every saucy speech she had ever directed toward him. For herself she was humbled; but she was proud of him. Proud that in a cause of compassion and honour, he had been able to get the better of himself.
She read over her aunt’s commendation of him again and again. It was hardly enough; but it pleased her. She was even sensible of some pleasure, though mixed with regret, on finding how steadfastly both she and her uncle had been persuaded that affection and confidence subsisted between Mr. Darcy Carter and herself.
She was roused from her seat, and her reflections, by someone’s approach; and before she could strike into another path, she was overtaken by Voort.
“I am afraid I interrupt your solitary ramble, my dear sister?” said he, as he joined her.
“You certainly do,” she replied with a smile, “but it does not follow that the interruption must be unwelcome.”
“I should be sorry indeed, if it were. We were always good friends; and now we are better.”
“True. Are the others coming out?”
“I do not know. Mrs. Kajak and Zanda are going in the cloud flier to Lothar. And so, my dear sister, I find, from our uncle and aunt, that you have actually seen Thark.”
She replied in the affirmative.
“I almost envy you the pleasure, and yet I believe it would be too much for me, or else I could take it in my way to Newcastle. And you saw the old housekeeper, I suppose? Poor Rey’knolts, she was always very fond of me. But of course she did not mention my name to you.”
“Yes, she did.”
“And what did she say?”
“That you were gone into the army, and she was afraid had—not turned out well. At such a distance as that, you know, things are strangely misrepresented.”
“Certainly,” he replied, biting his lips. Elizadejah hoped she had silenced him; but he soon afterwards said, “I was surprised to see Darcy Carter in town last month. We passed each other several times. I wonder what he can be doing there.”
“Perhaps preparing for his thrallship with Miss de Broonak,” said Elizadejah. “It must be something particular, to take him there at this time of year.”
“Undoubtedly. Did you see him while you were at Qu’ton? I thought I understood from the Gahdinahs that you had.”
“Yes; he introduced us to his sister.”
“And do you like her?”
“Very much.”
“I have heard, indeed, that she is uncommonly improved within this year or two. When I last saw her, she was not very promising. I am very glad you liked her. I hope she will turn out well.”
“I dare say she will; she has got over the most trying age.”
“Did you go by the village of Kympton?”
“I do not recollect that we did.”
“I mention it, because it is the living which I ought to have had. A most delightful place! Excellent Pradeer House! It would have suited me in every respect.”
“How should you have liked making sermons?”
“Exceedingly well. I should have considered it as part of my duty, and the exertion would soon have been nothing. One ought not to repine—but, to be sure, it would have been such a thing for me! The quiet, the retirement of such a life would have answered all my ideas of happiness! But it was not to be. Did you ever hear Darcy Carter mention the circumstance, when you were in Kant?”
“I have heard from authority, which I thought as good, that it was left you conditionally only, and at the will of the present patron.”
“You have. Yes, there was something in that; I told you so from the first, you may remember.”
“I did hear, too, that there was a time, when sermon-making was not so palatable to you as it seems to be at present; that you actually declared your resolution of never taking orders, and that the business had been compromised accordingly.”
“You did! and it was not wholly without foundation. You may remember what I told you on that point, when first we talked of it.”
They were now almost at the door of the house, for she had walked fast to get rid of him; and unwilling, for her sister’s sake, to provoke him, she only said in reply, with a good-humoured smile, “Come, Mr. Voor
t, we are brother and sister, you know. Do not let us quarrel about the past. In future, I hope we shall be always of one mind.”
She held out her hand; he kissed it with affectionate gallantry, though he hardly knew how to look, and they entered the house.
Chapter 53
Mr. Voort was so perfectly satisfied with this conversation that he never again distressed himself, or provoked his dear sister Elizadejah, by introducing the subject of it; and she was pleased to find that she had said enough to keep him quiet.
The day of his and Zanda’s departure soon came, and Mrs. Kajak was forced to submit to a separation, which, as her sire by no means entered into her scheme of their all going to Newcastle, was likely to continue at least a twelvemonth.
“Oh! My dear Zanda,” she cried, “when shall we meet again?”
“Oh, lord! I don’t know. Not these two or three years, perhaps.”
“Write to me very often, my dear.”
“As often as I can. But you know conjoined women have never much time for writing. My sisters may write to me. They will have nothing else to do.”
Mr. Voort’s adieus were much more affectionate than his concubine’s. He smiled, looked handsome, and said many pretty things.
“He is as fine a fellow,” said Mr. Kajak, as soon as they were out of the house, “as ever I saw. He simpers, and smirks, and makes love to us all. I am prodigiously proud of him. I defy even Kam Han Tor himself to produce a more valuable son-in-law.”
The loss of her daughter made Mrs. Kajak very dull for several days.
“I often think,” said she, “that there is nothing so bad as parting with one’s friends. One seems so forlorn without them.”