CHAPTER XX. SOMETHING NOT EXACTLY FLIRTATION.
Most travelled reader, have you ever stood upon the plateau at the footof the Alten-Schloss in Baden, just before sunset, and seen the goldenglory spread out like a sheen over the vast plain beneath you, withwaving forests, the meandering Rhine, and the blue Vosges mountainsbeyond all? It is a noble landscape, where every feature is bold, andthroughout which light and shade alternate in broad, effective masses,showing that you are gazing on a scene of great extent, and taking inmiles of country with your eye. It is essentially German, too, in itscharacteristics. The swelling undulations of the soil, the deep, darkforests, the picturesque homesteads, with shadowy eaves and carvedquaint balconies, the great gigantic wagons slowly toiling through thenarrow lanes, over which the "Lindens" spread a leafy canopy,--all areof the Vaterland.
Some fancied resemblance--it was in reality no more--to a view from awindow at Cro' Martin had especially endeared this spot to Martin, whoregularly was carried up each evening to pass an hour or so, dreamingaway in that half-unconsciousness to which his malady had reduced him.There he sat, scarcely a remnant of his former self, a leaden dulnessin his eye, and a massive immobility in the features which once wereplastic with every passing mood that stirred him. The clasped hands andslightly bent-down head gave a character of patient, unresisting meaningto his figure, which the few words he dropped from time to time seemedto confirm.
At a little distance off, and on the very verge of the cliff, KateHenderson was seated sketching; and behind her, occasionally turning towalk up and down the terraced space, was Massingbred, once more in fullhealth, and bearing in appearance the signs of his old, impatient humor.Throwing away his half-smoked cigar, and with a face whose expressionbetokened the very opposite of all calm and ease of mind, he drew nighto where she sat, and watched her over her shoulder. For a while sheworked away without noticing his presence. At last she turned slightlyabout, and looking up at him, said, "You see, it's very nearlyfinished."
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"Well, and what then?" asked he, bluntly.
"Do you forget that I gave you until that time to change your opinion?that when I was shadowing in this foreground I said, 'Wait 'till I havedone this sketch, and see if you be of the same mind,' and you agreed?"
"This might be very pleasant trifling if nothing were at stake, MissHenderson," said he; "but remember that I cannot hold all my worldlychances as cheaply as _you_ seem to do them."
"Light another cigar, and sit down here beside me,--I don't dislikesmoke, and it may, perchance, be a peace calumet between us; and let ustalk, if possible, reasonably and calmly."
He obeyed like one who seemed to feel that her word was a command, andsat down on the cliff at her side.
"There, now," said she, "be useful; hold that color-case for me, andgive me your most critical counsel. Do you like my sketch?"
"Very much indeed."
"Where do you find fault with it? There must be a fault, or yourcriticism is worth nothing."
"Its greatest blemish in my eyes is the time it has occupied you. Sinceyou began it you have very rarely condescended to speak of anythingelse."
"A most unjust speech, and an ungrateful one. It was when throwing inthose trees yonder, I persuaded you to recall your farewell address toyour borough friends; it was the same day that I sketched that figurethere, that I showed you the great mistake of your present life. Thereis no greater error, believe me, than supposing that a Parliamentarysuccess, like a social one, can be achieved by mere brilliancy. Partyis an army, and you must serve in the ranks before you can wear yourepaulets."
"I have told you already,--I tell you again,--I 'm tired of the themethat has myself alone for its object."
"Of whom would you speak, then?" said she, still intently busied withher drawing.
"You ask me when you know well of whom," said he, hurriedly. "Nay, nomenaces; I could not if I would be silent. It is impossible for me anylonger to continue this struggle with myself. Here now, before I leavethis spot, you shall answer me--" He stopped suddenly, as though he hadsaid more than he intended, or more than he well knew how to continue.
"Go on," said she, calmly. And her fingers never trembled as they heldthe brush.
"I confess I do envy that tranquil spirit of yours," said he, bitterly."It is such a triumph to be calm, cold, and impassive at a moment whenothers feel their reason tottering and their brain a chaos."
"There is nothing so easy, sir," said she, proudly. "All that I canboast of is not to have indulged in illusions which seem to have a charmfor _you_. You say you want explicit-ness. You shall have it. There wasone condition on which I offered you my friendship and my advice. Youaccepted the bargain, and we were friends. After a while you came andsaid that you rued your compact; that you discovered your feelings forme went further; that mere friendship, as you phrased it, would notsuffice--"
"I told you, rather," broke he in, "that I wished to put that feeling tothe last test, by linking your fortune with my own forever."
"Very well, I accept that version. You offered to make me your wife, andin return, I asked you to retract your words,--to suffer our relationsto continue on their old footing, nor subject me to the necessity of anexplanation painful to both of us. For a while you consented; now youseem impatient at your concession, and ask me to resume the subject. Beit so, but for the last time."
Massingbred's cheeks grew deadly pale, but he never uttered a word.
After a second's pause, she resumed: "Your affections are less engagedin this case than you think. You would make me your wife just as youwould do anything else that gave a bold defiance to the world, to showa consciousness of your own power, to break down any obstacle, and makethe prejudices or opinions of society give way before you. You haveenergy and self-esteem enough to make this succeed. Your wife--albeitthe steward's daughter--the governess! would be received, invited,visited, and the rest of it; and so far as _you_ were concerned thetriumph would be complete. Now, however, turn a little attention to theother side of the medal. What is to requite _me_ for all this courtesyon sufferance, all this mockery of consideration? Where am I to find myfriendships, where even discover my duties? You only know of one kindof pride, that of station and social eminence. I can tell you there isanother, loftier far,--the consciousness that no inequality of positioncan obliterate, what I feel and know in myself of superiority to thosefine ladies whose favorable notice you would entreat for me. Smile atthe vanity of this declaration if you like, sir, but, at least, ownthat I am consistent; for I am prouder in the independence of my presentdependence than I should be in all the state of Mr. Massingbred's wife.You can see, therefore, that I could not accept this change as the greatelevation you would deem it. You would be stooping to raise one whocould never persuade herself that she was exalted. I am well aware thatinequality of one sort or another is the condition of most marriages.The rank of one compensates for the wealth of the other. Here it isaffluence and age, there it is beauty and poverty. People treat thequestion in a good commercial spirit, and balance the profit and losslike tradesfolk; but even in this sense our compact would be impossible,since _you_ would endow me with what has no value in my eyes, and _I_,worse off still, have absolutely nothing to give in return."
"Give me your love, dearest Kate," cried he, "and, supported by that,you shall see that I deserve it. Believe me, it is your own proud spiritthat exaggerates the difficulties that would await us in society."
"I should scorn myself if I thought of them," broke she in, haughtily;"and remember, sir, these are not the words of one who speaks inignorance. I, too, have seen that great world, on which your affectionsare so fixed. I have mixed with it, and know it. Notwithstanding allthe cant of moralists, I do not believe it to be more hollow ormore heartless than other classes. Its great besetting sin is not ofself-growth, for it comes of the slavish adulation offered by thosebeneath it,--the grovelling worship of the would-be fine folk, whowould leave friends and home and hearth to be admitted even to
theantechambers of the great. They who offer up this incense are in my eyesfar more despicable than they who accept the sacrifice; but I would notcast my lot with either. Do not smile, sir, as if these were high-flownsentiments; they are the veriest commonplaces of one who lovescommonplace, who neither seeks affections with coronets nor friendshipsin gold coaches, but who would still less be of that herd--mute,astonished, and awe-struck--who worship them!"
"You deem me, then, deficient in this same independence of spirit?"cried Massingbred, half indignantly.
"I certainly do not accept your intention of marrying beneath you as aproof of it. Must I again tell you, sir, that in such cases it is thepoor, weak, patient, forgotten woman pays all the penalty, and that, inthe very conflict with the world the man has his reward?"
"If you loved me, Kate," said he, in a tone of deep sorrow, "it is notthus you would discuss this question."
She made no reply, but bending down lower over her drawing, worked awaywith increased rapidity.
"Still," cried he, passionately, "I am not to be deterred by a defeat.Tell me, at least, how I can win that love, which is to me the greatprize of life. You read my faults, you see my shortcomings clearlyenough; be equally just, then, to anything there is of good or hopefulabout me. Do this, Kate, and I will put my fate upon the issue."
"In plain words," said she, calmly, "you ask me what manner of man Iwould consent to marry. I 'll tell you. One who with ability enoughto attain any station, and talents to gain any eminence, has livedsatisfied with that in which he was born; one who has made theindependence of his character so felt by the world that his actions havebeen regarded as standards, a man of honor and of his word; employinghis knowledge of life, not for the purposes of overreaching, but forself-correction and improvement; well bred enough to be a peer, simpleas a peasant; such a man, in fact, as could afford to marry a governess,and, while elevating her to his station, never compromise his own withhis equals. I don't flatter myself," said she, smiling, "that I 'mlikely to draw this prize; but I console myself by thinking that I couldnot accept aught beneath it as great fortune. I see, sir, the humilityof my pretensions amuses you, and it is all the better for both of us ifwe can treat these things jestingly."
"Nay, Kate, you are unfair--unjust," broke in Mas-singbred.
"Mr. Martin begins to feel it chilly, Miss Henderson," said a servant atthis moment. "Shall we return to the hotel?"
"Yes, by all means," said she, rising hastily. The next instant shewas busily engaged shawling and muffling the sick man, who accepted herattentions with the submissive-ness of a child.
"That will do, Molly, thank you, darling," said he, in a feeble voice;"you are so kind, so good to me."
"The evening is fresh, sir, almost cold," said she.
"Yes, dear, the climate is not what it used to be. We have cut downtoo many of those trees, Molly, yonder." And he pointed with his thinfingers towards the Rhine. "We have thinned the wood overmuch, butthey'll grow again, dear, though I shall not be here to see them."
"He thinks I am his niece," whispered Kate, "and fancies himself at Cro'Martin."
"I suppose they'll advise my trying a warm country, Molly, a milderair," muttered he, as they slowly carried him along. "But home, afterall, is home; one likes to see the old faces and the old objects aroundthem,--all the more when about to leave them forever!" And as the lastwords came, two heavy tears stole slowly along his cheeks, and hispale lips quivered with emotion. Now speaking in a low, weak voice tohimself, now sighing heavily, as though in deep depression, he was bornealong towards the hotel. Nor did the gay and noisy groups which throngedthe thoroughfares arouse him. He saw them, but seemed not to heed them.His dreary gaze wandered over the brilliant panorama without interest orspeculation. Some painful and difficult thoughts, perhaps, did all theseunaccustomed sights and sounds bring across his mind, embarrassing himto reconcile their presence with the scene he fancied himself beholding;but even these impressions were faint and fleeting.
As they turned to cross the little rustic bridge in front of the hotel,a knot of persons moved off the path to make way for them, one of whomfixed his eyes steadily on the sick man, gazing with the keen scrutinyof intense interest; then suddenly recalling himself to recollection, hehastily retreated within the group.
"You are right," muttered he to one near him, "he _is_ 'booked;' my bondwill come due before the month ends."
"And you'll be an estated gent, Herman, eh?" said a very dark-eyed,hook-nosed man at his side.
"Well, I hope I shall act the part as well as my neighbors," said Mr.Merl, with that mingled assurance and humility that made up his manner.
"Was n't that Massingbred that followed them,--he that made the famousspeech the other day in Parliament?"
"Yes," said Merl. "I 've got a bit of 'stiff' with his endorsement in mypocket this minute for one hundred and fifty."
"What's it worth, Merl?"
"Perhaps ten shillings; but I 'd not part with it quite so cheaply.He'll not always be an M.P., and we shall see if he can afford toswagger by an old acquaintance without so much as a 'How d' ye do?'"
"There, he is coming back again," said the other. And at the same momentMassingbred walked slowly up to the spot, his easy smile upon his face,and his whole expression that of a careless, unburdened nature.
"I just caught a glimpse of you as I passed, Merl," said he, with afamiliar nod; "and you were exactly the man I wanted to see."
"Too much honor, sir," said Merl, affecting a degree of haughty distanceat the familiarity of this address.
Massingbred smiled at the mock dignity, and went on; "I have somethingto say to you. Will you give me a call this evening at the Cour de Bade,say about nine or half-past?"
"I have an engagement this evening."
"Put it off, then, that's all, Master Merl, for mine is an importantmatter, and very nearly concerns yourself."
Merl was silent. He would have liked much to display before his friendsa little of the easy dash and swagger that he had just been exhibiting,to have shown them how cavalierly he could treat a rising statesman anda young Parliamentary star of the first order; but the question crossedhim, Was it safe? what might the luxury cost him? "Am I to bring thatlittle acceptance of yours along with me?" said he, in a half whisper,while a malicious sparkle twinkled in his eye.
"Why not, man? Certainly, if it gives you the least pleasure in life;only don't be later than half-past nine." And with one of his sauciestlaughs Massingbred moved away, leaving the Jew very far from contentwith "the situation."
Merl, however, soon rallied. He had been amusing his friends, justbefore this interruption, with a narrative of his Irish journey: he nowresumed the theme. All that he found faulty, all even that he deemed newor strange or unintelligible in that unhappy country, he had dressed upin the charming colors of his cockney vocabulary, and his hearers wereworthy of him! There is but little temptation, however, to linger intheir company, and so we leave them.
The Martins Of Cro' Martin, Vol. II (of II) Page 20