CHAPTER XXIV. A CONSULTATION
Jack Massingbred was one of those who, in questions of difficulty,resort to the pen in preference to personal interference. It was a fancyof his that he wrote better than he talked. Very probably he thoughtso because the contrary was the fact. On the present occasion anothermotive had also its influence. It was Lady Dorothea that he addressed,and he had no especial desire to commit himself to a direct interview.
His object was to convey Mr. Scanlan's propositions,--to place themfully and intelligibly before her Ladyship without a syllable of commenton his own part, or one word which could be construed into advocacy orreprobation of them. In truth, had he been called upon for an opinion,it would have sorely puzzled him what to say. To rescue a large estatefrom ruin was, to be sure, a very considerable service, but to acceptMaurice Scanlan as a near member of one's family seemed a very heavyprice even for that. Still, if the young lady liked him, singular as thechoice might appear, other objections need not be insurmountable. TheMartins were very unlikely ever to make Ireland their residence again,they would see little or nothing of this same Scanlan connection, "and,after all," thought Jack, "if we can only keep the disagreeables ofthis life away from daily intercourse, only knowing them through thepost-office and at rare intervals, the compact is not a bad one."
Massingbred would have liked much to consult Miss Henderson upon thequestion itself, and also upon his manner of treating it; but to touchupon the point of a marriage of inequality with her, would have beendangerous ground. It was scarcely possible he could introduce the topicwithout dropping a word, or letting fall a remark she could not seizehold of. It was the theme, of all others, in which her sensitivenesswas extreme; nor could he exactly say whether she sneered at a_mesalliance,_ or at the insolent tone of society regarding it.
Again he bethought him of the ungraciousness of the task he had assumed,if, as was most probable, Lady Dorothea should feel Mr. Scanlan'spretensions an actual outrage. "She'll never forgive me for statingthem, that's certain," said he; "but will she do so if I decline todeclare them, or worse still, leave them to the vulgar interpretationScanlan himself is sure to impart to them?" While he thus hesitated anddebated with himself, now altering a phrase here, now changing a wordthere, Captain Martin entered the room, and threw himself into a chairwith a more than ordinary amount of weariness and exhaustion.
"The governor's worse to-day, Massingbred," said he, with a sigh.
"No serious change, I hope?" said Jack.
"I suspect there is, though," replied the other. "They sent for me fromLescour's last night, where I was winning smartly. Just like _my_ luckalways, to be called away when I was 'in vein,' and when I got here,I found Schubart, and a French fellow whom I don't know, had just bledhim. It must have been touch and go, for when I saw him he was veryill--very ill indeed--and they call him better."
"It was a distinct attack, then,--a seizure of some sort?" askedMassingbred.
"Yes, I think they said so," said he, lighting his cigar.
"But he has rallied, has n't he?"
"Well, I don't fancy he has. He lifts his eyes at times, and seems tolook about for some one, and moves his lips a little, but you couldscarcely say that he was conscious, though my mother insists he is."
"What does Schubart think?"
"Who minds these fellows?" said he, impatiently. "They're onlyspeculating on what will be said of themselves, and so they go on: 'Ifthis does not occur, and the other does not happen, we shall see himbetter this evening.'"
"This is all very bad," said Massingbred, gloomily--"It's a deuced dealworse than you know of, old fellow," said Martin, bitterly.
"Perhaps not worse than I suspect," said Massingbred.
"What do you mean by that?"
Massingbred did not reply, but sat deep in thought for some time. "Come,Martin," said he, at last, "let us be frank; in a few hours it may be,perhaps, too late for frankness. Is this true?" And he handed to himMerl's pocket-book, open at a particular page.
Martin took it, and as his eyes traced the lines a sickly palenesscovered his features, and in a voice scarcely stronger than an infant's,he said, "It is so."
"The whole reversionary right?"
"Every acre--every stick and stone of it--except," added he, with asickly attempt at a smile, "a beggarly tract, near Kiltimmon, Mary has acharge upon."
"Read that, now," said Jack, handing him his recently written letter."I was about to send it without showing it to you; but it is as well yousaw it."
While Martin was reading, Massingbred never took his eyes from him. Hewatched with all his own practised keenness the varying emotions theletter cost; but he saw that, as he finished, selfishness had triumphed,and that the prospect of safety had blunted every sentiment as to theprice.
"Well," said Jack, "what say you to that?"
"I say it's a right good offer, and on no account to be refused. Thereis some hitch or other--I can't say what, but it exists, I know--whichties us up against selling. Old Repton and the governor, and I thinkmy mother, too, are in the secret; but I never was, so that Scanlan'sproposal is exactly what meets the difficulty."
"But do you like his conditions?" asked Jack.
"I can't say I do. But what 's that to the purpose? One must play thehand that is dealt to them; there 's no choice! I know that, as agentover the property, he 'll make a deuced good thing of it for himself. Itwill not be five nor ten per cent will satisfy Master Maurice."
"Yes; but there is another condition, also," said Jack, quietly.
"About Mary? Well, of course it's not the kind of thing one likes.The fellow is the lowest of the low; but even that's better, in somerespects, than a species of half gentility, for he actually has n'tone in the world belonging to him. No one ever heard of his father ormother, and he's not the fellow to go in search of them."
"I confess that _is_ a consideration," said Massingbred, with a tonethat might mean equally raillery or the reverse, "so that you see nogreat objection on that score?"
"I won't say I 'd choose the connection; but 'with a bad book it's atleast a hedge,'--eh, Massy, is n't it?"
"Perhaps so," said the other, dryly.
"It does n't strike me," said Martin, as he glanced his eye again overthe letter, "that you have advocated Scanlan's plan. You have left itwithout, apparently, one word of comment. Does that mean that you don'tapprove of it?"
"I never promised him I would advocate it," said Jack.
"I have no doubt, Massingbred, you think me a deuced selfish fellow fortreating the question in this fashion; but just reflect a little,and see how innocently, as I may say, I was led into all theseembarrassments. I never suspected how deep I was getting. Merl used tolaugh at me if I asked him how we stood; he always induced me to regardour dealings as trifles, to be arranged to-day, to-morrow, or ten yearshence."
"I am not unversed in that sort of thing, unluckily," said Massingbred,interrupting him. "There is another consideration, however, in thepresent case, to which I do not think you have given sufficient weight."
"As to Mary, my dear fellow, the matter is simple enough. Our consentis a mere form. If she liked Scanlan, she 'd marry him against all theMartins that ever were born; and if she did n't, she 'd not swerve aninch if the whole family were to go to the stake for it. She 's not onefor half measures, I promise you; and then, remember, that though sheis one 'of us,' and well born, she has never mingled with the societyof her equals; she has always lived that kind of life you sawyourself,--taking a cast with the hounds one day, nursing some old hagwith the rheumatism the next. I 've seen her hearing a class in thevillage school, and half an hour after, breaking in a young horse toharness. And what between her habits and her tastes, she is really notfit for what you and I would call the world." As Massingbred made noreply, Martin ascribed his silence to a part conviction, and went on:"Mind, I 'm not going to say that she is not a deuced deal too good forMaurice Scanlan, who is as vulgar a hound as walks on two legs; but, asI said before, Mas
sy, we haven't much choice."
"Will Lady Dorothea be likely to view the matter in this light?" askedJack, calmly.
"That is a mere matter of chance. She 's equally likely to embrace theproposal with ardor, or tell a footman to kick Scanlan out of the housefor his impertinence; and I own the latter is the more probable of thetwo,--not, mark you, from any exaggerated regard for Mary, but out ofconsideration to the insult offered to herself."
"Will she not weigh well all the perils that menace the estate?"
"She'll take a short method with them,--she'll not believe them."
"Egad! I must say the whole negotiation is in a very promising state!"exclaimed Jack, as he arose and walked the room. "There is only oneamongst us has much head for a case of difficulty."
"You mean Kate Henderson?" broke in Martin.
"Yes."
"Well, we 've lost _her_ just when we most needed her."
"Lost her! How--what do you mean?"
"Why, that she is gone--gone home. She started this morning beforedaybreak. She had a tiff with my mother last night. I will say the girlwas shamefully treated,--shamefully! My Lady completely forgot herself.She was in one of those blessed paroxysms in which, had she been born aPasha, heads would have been rolling about like shot in a dockyard, andshe consequently said all manner of atrocities; and instead of givingher time to make the _amende_, Kate beat a retreat at once, and by thistime she is some twenty miles on her journey."
Massingbred walked to the window to hide the emotion these tidingsproduced; for, with all his self-command, the suddenness of theintelligence had unmanned him, and a cold and sickly feeling came overhim. There was far more of outraged and insulted pride than love in theemotions which then moved him. The bitter thought of the moment was,how indifferent she felt about _him_,--how little _he_ weighed inany resolve she determined to follow. She had gone without a word offarewell,--perhaps without a thought of him. "Be it so," said he tohimself; "there has been more than enough of humiliation to me in ourintercourse. It is time to end it! The whole was a dream, from which theawaking was sure to be painful. Better meet it at once, and have donewith it." There was that much of passion in this resolve that proved howfar more it came from wounded pride than calm conviction; and so deeplywas his mind engrossed with this feeling, that Martin had twice spokento him ere he noticed his question.
"Do you mean, then, to show that letter to my mother?"
"Ay; I have written it with that object Scanlan asked me to behis interpreter, and I have kept my pledge.--And did she goalone,--unaccompanied?"
"I fancy so; but, in truth, I never asked. The doctors were here, andall that fuss and confusion going on, so that I had really little headfor anything. After all, I suspect she's a girl might be able to takecare of herself,--should n't you say so?"
Massingbred was silent for a while, and then said: "You 'll have to beon the alert about this business of yours, Martin; and if I can be ofservice to you, command me. I mean to start for London immediately."
"I 'll see my mother at once, then," said he, taking up Massingbred'sletter.
"Shall I meet you in about an hour, in the Lichtenthal Avenue?"
"Agreed," said he; and they parted.
We have no need, nor have we any right, to follow Massingbred as hestrolled out to walk alone in an alley of the wood. Irresolution is anintense suffering to men of action; and such was the present conditionof his mind. Week after week, month after month, had he lingered onin companionship with the Martins, till such had become the intimacybetween them that they scrupled not to discuss before him the mostconfidential circumstances, and ask his counsel on the most privateconcerns. He fancied that he was "of them;" he grew to think that hewas, somehow, part and parcel of the family, little suspecting thewhile that Kate Henderson was the link that bound him to them, and thatwithout her presence they resolved themselves into three individuals forwhom he felt wonderfully little of interest or affection. "She is gone,and what have I to stay for?" was the question he put to himself; andfor answer he could only repeat it.
The Martins Of Cro' Martin, Vol. II (of II) Page 24