CHAPTER XII. THE TWO SIDES OF A MEDAL
Although the Knight lost not an hour in writing to Lady Eleanor,informing her of his appointment, the letter, hastily written, andintrusted to a waiter to be posted, was never forwarded, and the firstintelligence of the event reached her in a letter from her courtlyrelative, Lord Netherby.
So much depends upon the peculiar tact and skill of the writer, andso much upon our own frame of mind at the time of reading, that it isdifficult to say whether we do not bear up better under the announcementof any sudden and sorrowful event from the hand of one less cared forthan from those nearest and dearest to our hearts. The consolations thatlook like the special pleadings of affection become, as it were,the mere expressions of impartiality. The points of view, being sodifferent, give a different aspect to the picture, and gleams of lightfall where, seen from another quarter, all was shadow and gloom. Soit was here. What, if the tidings had come from her husband, had beenregarded in the one painful light of separation and long absence,assumed, under Lord Netherby's style, the semblance of a most gratifyingevent, with, of course, that alloy of discomfort from which no humanfelicity is altogether free: so very artfully was this done, that LadyEleanor half felt as if, in indulging in her own sorrow, she were merelygiving way to a selfish regret; and as Helen, the better to sustain hermother's courage, affected a degree of pleasure she was really far fromfeeling, this added to the conviction that she ought, if she could, toregard her husband's appointment as a happy event.
"Truly, mamma," said Helen, as she sat with the letter before her, "Mestyle c'est l'homme.' His Lordship is quite heroic when describing allthe fetes and dinners of London; all the honors showered on papa invisiting-cards and invitations; how excellencies called, and royalhighnesses shook hands: he even chronicles the distinguishing favor ofthe gracious Prince, who took wine with him. But listen to him when thetheme is really one that might evoke some trait, if not of enthusiasm,at least of national pride: 'As for the expedition, my dear cousin,though nobody knows exactly for what place it is destined, everybody isaware that it is not intended to be a fighting one. Demonstrations arenow the vogue, and it is become just as bad taste for our army toshed blood as it would be for a well-bred man to mention a certainill-conducted individual before ears polite. Modern war is like a gameat whist between first-rate players; when either party has four byhonors, he shows his hand, and saves the trouble of a contest. TheNaval Service is, I grieve to say, rooted to its ancient prejudices, andcontinues its abominable pastime of broadsides and boardings; hence itsmob popularity at this moment! The army will, however, always be thegentlemanlike cloth, and I thank my stars I don't believe we have asingle relative afloat. Guy Herries was the last; he was shot or piked,I forget which, in boarding a Spanish galliot off Cape Verde. "Quediable allait-il faire dans cette galere?" Rest satisfied, therefore,if the gallant Knight has little glory, he will have no dangers; ourexpeditions never land. Jekyll says they are only intended to give theservice an appetite for fresh meat and soft bread, after four months'biscuit and salt beef. At all events, my dear cousin, reckon onseeing my friend the Knight gazetted as major-general on the very nextpromotions. The Prince is delighted with him; and I carried a messagefrom his Royal Highness yesterday to the War Office in his behalf. Youwould not come to see me, despite all the seductions I threw out, andnow the season is nigh over. May I hope better things for the next year,when perhaps I can promise an inducement the more, and make your welcomemore graceful by dividing its cares with one far more competent thanmyself to fulfil them.'--What does he mean, mamma?"
"Read on, my dear; I believe I can guess the riddle."
"'The person I allude to was, in former days, if not actually a friend,a favored intimate of yours; indeed, I say that this fact is but anotherclaim to my regard.'--Is it possible, mamma, his Lordship thinks ofmarrying?"
"Even so, Helen," said Lady Eleanor, sighing, for she remembered how,in his very last interview with her at Gwynne Abbey, he spoke of hisresolve on making Lionel his heir; but then, those were the days oftheir prosperous fortune, the time when, to all seeming, they needed noincrease of wealth.
If Helen was disposed to laugh at the notion of Lord Netherby'smarrying, a glance at the troubled expression of her mother's featureswould have checked the emotion. The heritage was a last hope, which wasnot the less cherished that she had never imparted it to another.
"Shall I read on?" said Helen, timidly; and at a signal from LadyEleanor she resumed: "'I know how much "badinage" a man at my timeof life must expect from his acquaintances, and how much of kindremonstrance from his friends, when he announces his determination tomarry. A good deal of this must be set down to the score of envy, someof it proceeds from mere habit on these occasions, and lastly, one'sbachelor friends very naturally are averse to the closure against themof a house "ou on dine." I have thought of all this, and, _per contra_,I have set down the isolation of one, if not deserted, at least somewhatneglected by his relatives, and fancied that if not exactly of that agewhen people marry for love, I am not yet quite so old but I may becomethe object of true and disinterested affection.
"'Lady------(I have pledged my honor not to write her name, even toyou) is, in rank and fortune, fully my equal, in every other quality mysuperior. The idlers at "Boodle's" can neither sneer at a "mesalliance,"nor hint at the "faiblesse" of an "elderly gentleman." It is a marriagefounded on mutual esteem, and, so far as station is concerned, onequality; and when I say that his Royal Highness has expressed hisunqualified approval of the step, I believe I can add no more. I oweyou, my dear cousin, this early and full explanation of my motiveson many accounts: if the result should change the dispositions I oncebelieved unalterable, I beg it may be understood as proceeding far morefrom necessity than the sincere wish of your very affectionate relative,
"'Netherby.
"'My regret at not seeing Helen here this season is, in a measure,alleviated by Lady--------- telling me that brunettes were more therage; her Ladyship, who is no common arbiter, says that no "blonde"attracted any notice: even Lady Georgiana Maydew drew no admiration.My fair cousin is, happily, very young, _et les beaux jours viendront_,even before hers have lost their brilliancy.
"'I am sorry Lionel left the Coldstreams; with economy he could verywell have managed to hold his ground, and we might have obtainedsomething for him in the Household. As for India, the only influentialperson I know is my wine-merchant; he is, I am told, a Director ofthe Honorable Company, but he 'd certainly adulterate my Madeira if Icondescended to ask him a favor.'"
"Well, Helen, I think you will agree with me, selfishness is themost candid of all the vices; how delightfully unembarrassed is hisLordship's style, how frank, honest, and straightforward!"
"After his verdict upon 'blondes', mamma," said Helen, laughing, "I darenot record my opinion of him,--I cannot come into court an impartialevidence. This, however, I will say, that if his Lordship be not anunhappy instance of the school, I am sincerely rejoiced that Lionel isnot being trained up a courtier; better a soldier's life with all itshazards and its dangers, than a career so certain to kill every manlysentiment."
"I agree with you fully, Helen; life cannot be circumscribed withinpetty limits and occupied by petty cares without reducing the mind tothe same miniature dimensions; until at last so immeasurably greater areour own passions and feelings than the miserable interests around us, weend by self-worship and egotism, and fancy ourselves leviathans becausewe swim in a fish-pond. But who can that be crossing the grass-plotyonder? I thought our neighbors of Port Ballintray had all left thecoast?"
"It is the gentleman who dined here, mamma, the man that never spoke--Iforget his name--"
Helen had not time to finish, when a modest tap was heard at the door,and the next moment Mr. Leonard presented himself. He was dressed withmore than his wonted care, but the effort to make poverty respectablewas everywhere apparent; the blue frock was brushed to the very vergeof its frail existence, the gloves were drawn on at the hazard
of theirintegrity, and his hat, long inured to every vicissitude of weather,had been cocked into a strange counterfeit of modish smartness. With allthese signs of unusual attention to appearances, his manner was modesteven to humility, and he took a chair with the diffidence of one whoseemed to doubt the propriety of being seated in such a presence.
Notwithstanding Lady Eleanor's efforts at conversation, aided by Helen,who tried in many ways to relieve the embarrassment of their visitor,this difficulty seemed every moment greater, and he seemed, as he reallyfelt, to have summoned up all his courage for an undertaking, and inthe very nick of the enterprise, to have left himself beggared of hisenergy. A vague assent, a look of doubt and uncertainty, a half-mutteredexpression of acquiescence in whatever was said, was all that couldbe obtained from him; but still, while his embarrassment appeared eachinstant greater, he evinced no disposition to take his leave. LadyEleanor, who, like many persons whose ordinary manner is deemed cold andhaughty, could exert at will considerable powers of pleasing, did herutmost to put her visitor at his ease, and by changing her topics fromtime to time, detect, if possible, some clew to his coming. It was allin vain: he followed her, it is true, as well as he was able, and with abewildered look of constrained attention, seemed endeavoring to interesthimself in what she said, but it was perfectly apparent, all the while,that his mind was preoccupied, and by very different thoughts.
At length she remained silent, and resuming the work she was engagedon when he entered, sat for some time without uttering a word, or evenlooking up. Mr. Leonard coughed slightly, but, as if terrified at hisown rashness, soon became mute and still. At last, after a long pause,so long that Lady Eleanor and Helen, forgetful of their visitor, hadbecome deeply immersed in their own reflections, Mr. Leonard aroseslowly, and with a voice not free from a certain tremor, said, "Well,madam, then I suppose I may venture to say that I saw you and Miss Darcyboth well."
Lady Eleanor looked up with astonishment, for she could not conceive themeaning of the words, nor in what quarter they were to be reported.
"I mean, madam," said Leonard, "that when I present myself to theColonel, I may take the liberty to mention having seen you."
"Do you speak of my husband, sir,--Colonel Darcy?" said Lady Eleanor,with a very different degree of interest in her look and accent.
"Yes, madam," said Leonard, with a kind of forced courage in his manner."I hope to be under his command in a few days."
"Indeed, sir!" said Lady Eleanor, with animation; "I did not know thatyou had served, still less that you were about to join the army oncemore."
Leonard blushed deeply, and he suddenly grew deadly pale, while, in avoice scarcely louder than a mere whisper, he muttered, "So then, madam,Colonel Darcy has never spoken of me to you?"
Lady Eleanor, who misunderstood the meaning of the question, seemedslightly confused as she replied, "I have no recollection of it, sir,--Icannot call up at this moment having heard your name from my husband."
"I ought to have known it,--I ought to have been certain of it," saidLeonard, in a voice bursting from emotion, while the tears gushed fromhis eyes; "he could not have asked me to his house to sit down at histable as a mere object of your pity and contempt; and yet I am nothingelse."
The passionate vehemence in which he now spoke seemed so different fromhis recent manner, that both Lady Eleanor and Helen had some doubtsas to his sanity, when he quickly resumed: "I was broke forcowardice,--dismissed the service with disgrace,--degraded! Well may Icall it so, to be what I became. I would tell you that I was notguilty,--that Colonel Darcy knows,--but I dare not choose between thecharacter of a coward and--a drunkard. I had no other prospect before methan a life of poverty and repining,--maybe of worse,--of shame andignominy! when, last night, I received these letters; I scarcely thoughtthey could be for me, even when I read my name on them. Yes, madam, thisletter from the War Office permits me to serve as a volunteer with theEighth Regiment of Foot; and this, which is without signature, enclosesme fifty pounds to buy my outfit and join the regiment. It does not needa name; there is but one man living could stoop to help such as I am,and not feel dishonored by the contact; there is but one man braveenough to protect him branded as a coward."
"You are right, sir," cried Helen; "this must be my father's doing."
Leonard tried to speak, but could not; a trembling motion of his lips,and a faint sound issued, but nothing articulate. Lady Eleanor stoppedhim as he moved towards the door, and taking his hand pressed itcordially, while she said, "Be of good heart, sir; my husband is notless quick to perceive than he is ever ready to befriend. Be assured hewould not now be your ally if he had not a well-grounded hope that youwould merit it. Farewell, then; remember you have a double tie to duty,and that _his_ credit as well as _your own_ is on the issue."
Leonard muttered a faint "I will," and departed.
"How happily timed is this little incident, Helen," said Lady Eleanor,as she drew her daughter to her side; "how full of pleasant hopeit fills the heart, at a moment when the worldly selfishness of thecourtier's letter had left us low and sorrow-struck! These are indeedthe sunny spots in life, that never look so brilliant as when seen amidlowering skies and darkening storms."
The Knight Of Gwynne, Vol. 2 (of 2) Page 12