CHAPTER XI. YOUNG NELLIGAN, AS INTERPRETED IN TWO WAYS.
"I rather like that young Nelligan," said Martin, the day after Josephhad made his first appearance at dinner. "He talks pleasantly, andnothing of a pedant, as I half dreaded he might be."
"I thought his manner respectful, and very proper for his station," saidLady Dorothea, with an air of dignity.
"He spoke of politics, too, with less of prejudice, less of classbitterness, than I could have expected."
"Some policy, perhaps, in that," remarked her Ladyship.
"Possibly!" said Martin, with a careless shrug of the shoulders.
"He was in a measure on his trial amongst us, and felt the importance ofmaking a favorable first impression."
"It was more trouble than his father would have taken, then," saidMartin, smiling. "Old Dan, as they call him, is not a very conciliatingpersonage."
"I cannot imagine that the disposition of such a person is a matter ofmuch moment. Does n't the man deal in tea, candles, and such like?"
"That he does, and in loans, and in mortgages, too; not to add thathe exercises a very considerable share of influence in his town ofOughterard."
"A very shocking feature of the time we live in!" exclaimed LadyDorothea.
"So it may be; but there it is,--just like the wet weather, and thetyphus, and the sheep-rot, and fifty other disagreeable things one can'thelp."
"But at least they can avoid recurring to them in conversation, sir.There is no necessity to open the window when the look-out is a drearyone."
Martin made no reply, and a pause of some moments ensued.
"What arrangement did you come to with him about his party in theborough?" said she at last.
"I didn't even allude to the topic," replied he, half testily."These things are not to be done in that hasty fashion; they requiremanagement, discretion, and a fitting opportunity, too."
"Why, you talk of your grocer's boy as if he were a Cabinet Minister,Mr. Martin; you treat him like a great diplomatist!"
"It was not exactly on the first occasion of his being in my house thatI could have broached the matter."
"Which implies that you mean to invite him again."
"Possibly!" was the abrupt rejoinder.
"And must the odious attorney always be of the party?"
"No, madam, the odious attorney has set out for Dublin; but I shortlyexpect here one whom your Ladyship will, doubtless, call an odiouslawyer,--though he happens to be one of the foremost men of the Irishbar."
"A class I detest," said her Ladyship.
"He has one consolation, at least, madam," said Martin; "he figures in apretty long category."
"And why should he not, sir? What have I ever met in the drearyeighteen years and seven months I have passed here, except unmitigatedself-conceit, vulgarity, and presumption,--the very type of all threebeing your Dublin barrister."
"Their countrymen certainly entertain another estimate of them," saidMartin, laughing, for he had a lazy man's enjoyment of any passionateexcitement of another's temper.
"And it was," resumed she, "in some sort the contrast presented to suchwhich pleased me in that young man's manner yesterday. Not but I feelassured that erelong you and Miss Martin will spoil him."
"I! aunt?" said Mary, looking up from her work; "how am I to exercisethe evil influence you speak of?"
"By the notice--the interest you vouchsafe him, Miss Martin,--the mostflattering compliment to one in his station."
"If he bears collegiate honors so meekly, aunt," said Mary, quietly,"don't you think his head might sustain itself under _my_ attentions?"
"Possibly so, young lady, if not accompanied by the accessories ofyour rank in life," said Lady Dorothea, haughtily; "and as to collegehonors," added she, after a pause, "they are like school distinctions,of no earthly value out of the class-room."
"Faith, I don't know that," said Martin. "At least, in my ownexperience, I can say, every fellow that has made a figure in life gaveindications of high ability in his college years. I could go over thenames of at least a dozen."
"Pray don't, sir,--spare your memory, and spare us. Miss Martin andI will take it for granted that this young man is destined to be LordChancellor,--Ambassador at St. Petersburg,--or anything else you please.I have no doubt that the time is approaching when such things are verypossible."
"It has come already, my Lady," said Martin; and in the manner heuttered the words there was no saying whether the sentiment waspleasurable or the reverse.
"And yet I trust that there is a little interval still left to us erethat consummation," said she, with pretentious dignity. "Birth and bloodhave not lost all their _prestige!_"
"But they soon would," said Mary, "if they feared to enter the listsagainst those less well-born than themselves."
"Miss Martin!" exclaimed her Ladyship, "what words are these?"
"I hope they are void of offence, aunt. Assuredly I never conceived thatI could wound any susceptibilities here by saying that the well-born areready to meet the plebeian on any ground."
"There is no necessity for such trials, Miss Martin; the position ofeach has been so accurately defined by--by--by Providence," said she, atlast, blushing slightly as she uttered the word, "that the contest isalmost impossible."
"The French Revolution reveals another story, aunt, and tells us,besides, how inferior were the nobles of that country in the day ofstruggle."
"Upon my word, these are very pretty notions, young lady. Have they beenderived from the intelligent columns of the "Galway Monitor," or arethey the teachings of the gifted Mr. Scanlan? Assuredly, Mr. Martin,"said she, turning to him, "papa was right, when he said that the Irishnature was essentially rebellious."
"Complimentary, certainly," said Martin, laughing.
"He founded the remark on history. Papa was uncommonly well read,and used to observe that there seemed something in the Celtic natureincompatible with that high-souled, chivalrous loyalty Englishmenexhibit."
"But how much of the Celt have Mary and myself got in us, if yourobservation is meant for us? Why, my Lady, what with intermarriagecenturies ago, and change of blood ever since, the distinctive elementhas been utterly lost."
"And yet we are not English, uncle," said Mary, with something thatsmacked of pride. "Confess it: we have our nationality, and that ourpeople have traits of their own."
"That they have; but I never heard them made matter of boastfulnessbefore," said Lady Dorothea, sneeringly.
"Well, aunt, it is not too late to hear it now; and I, for one, am proudof my country,--not of its political station, for it is dependent,--notof its wealth, for it is poor,--but of its genial courtesy, itsfree-hearted hospitality, its manly patience under many a crushingcalamity, and not least of all, its gallantry on every field whereEngland has won honor."
"I have read of all these things; but my own experiences are limited tothe rags and restlessness of a semi-barbarous people. Nay, Miss Martin,I'm not going to discuss the matter. I have lived elsewhere,--you havenot. I have acquired habits--prejudices, perhaps you 'd call them--inbehalf of twenty things that Irish civilization sees no need of."
"Would it not be kind, aunt, were you to aid us by the light of thesesame experiences?" said Mary, with an air of well-assumed humility.
"Certainly not, at the price of intercourse with the natives!" exclaimedher Ladyship, haughtily. "I detest, on principle, the Lady Bountifulcharacter. The whole of the hymn-book, castor-oil, and patent-barleysympathy is shockingly vulgar. Like many things, well done at first, itfell into low hands, and got spoiled."
The tone of sarcasm in which this was spoken made Mary's cheeks crimson,and the flush spread itself over her neck. Still she made no reply, butbending down her head, continued to work more assiduously.
"When are we to leave this place, Mr. Martin?" asked her Ladyship,abruptly.
"I believe we are only waiting here till it be your pleasure to quit."
"And I dying to get away this fortnight past
! Some one certainly told methat Cro' Martin was not ready for us. Was it _you_, Miss Martin?"
"No, aunt."
"It ran in my head it was you, then. Well, can we go atonce--to-day--this afternoon?"
"To-morrow we might, perhaps," said Mary.
"Scarcely so," said Martin, interposing, "seeing that I have askedRepton to come down here and see the place."
"But you can drive him over from Cro' Martin. It would be intolerable,the idea of remaining here just for him. So we shall go to-morrow, MissMartin." And with this, uttered in the tone of an order, her Ladyshipswept proudly out of the room, from which Martin, not overanxious for a_tete-a-tete_ with his niece, stepped noiselessly at the same moment byanother door.
Scarcely had the door closed behind Lady Dorothea, when it was reopenedto admit Joe Nelligan, who had met her Ladyship in the corridor and beenreceived with such palpable coldness of manner that he entered the roombashful and awkward, and hardly knowing whether to advance or retire.
"I fear I have made my visit at an untimely hour, Miss Martin," said he,blushing; "but the truth is, I know next to nothing of society and itshabits, and if you would only be kind enough to tell me when I am atransgressor--"
"The notion of learning from _me_ is perfect," said Mary, interruptinghim with a pleasant laugh. "Why, Mr. Nelli-gan, I never could be taughtanything, even of the most ordinary rules of ceremonial life! though,"added she, slyly, "I have lived certainly in the midst of greatopportunities."
"But then, I have not," said Nelligan, gravely, and accepting the speechin all seriousness. "Well, it comes pretty much to the same thing," saidshe, smiling, "since I have profited so little by them."
"I came thus early, however," said he, earnestly, "because I wasimpatient to correct an impression which might have remained fromsomething that fell from me last night. You smile, I perceive," said he,"that I should attach so much importance to my own words!"
"It was not at that I smiled," said Mary, archly.
"No matter," continued he. "It is better, at the cost of a littlewounded vanity, that I should escape a misconception. When youruncle spoke to me, last night, about the division of parties in theborough--You are smiling again, Miss Martin!"
"Don't you perceive, sir, that what amuses me is the mistaken estimateyou have formed of me, by addressing me on such topics?"
"But I came here expressly to speak to you," said he, with increasedeagerness; "for I have always heard--always understood--that none evertook a deeper interest in all that regarded the country than yourself."
"If you mean, by the country, the lives and fortunes of those who livein it,--the people by whose toil it is fertilized, by whose traits it isa nation,--I tell you frankly that I yield to none for interest in allthat touches them; but if you come to talk of privileges and legislativebenefits, I know nothing of them: they form a land of whose verygeography I am ignorant."
"But the subject is the same, and the mind which comprehends one couldembrace the other."
"In the one, however, I can labor usefully and fittingly, without muchrisk of mistake,--never, indeed, of any mistake that might prove ofserious moment. The other involves great questions, and has greathazards, perils, to affright stronger heads than mine!"
"There is much in what you say," said he, reflectingly.
"There is far more than I am able to express," said she, warmly. "Justremember, for a moment, that of all the laws you great and wise menare making, over which you rant and wrangle, and assail each otherso vindictively, how few ever touch the interests or descend to thefortunes of those for whom you assume to make them,--that the craftiestdevices of your legislation never uproot ah old prejudice nor disturban antiquated superstition; while I, and such as I,--and there need benothing more humble,--can by a little timely help in trouble--a littlecare, or even a little counsel--comfort many a failing heart, cheer upmany a sinking spirit, and, better still, do good service by teachingthe poor man that he is of one family with those better off thanhimself, and that he is not an outcast because he is lowly!"
As Mary went on, her eyes shone more brilliantly, and her cheeks glowed,till Nelligan forgot even the words she spoke in admiration of thespeaker.
"But here comes my uncle," cried she, hastily, "to rescue you fromfurther amplification of the theme. Come in, uncle,"--for Martin wasalready about to retire,--"it is Mr. Nelligan, who wants to speak toyou."
"Oh, I was in terror of a regular morning visitor!" said Martin, shakingthe young man's hand cordially. "They didn't tell me you were here."
"I came, sir," said Joseph, hesitatingly, "to rectify what might,perhaps, require correction in an observation I made last night. We weretalking about the proper basis of a representation--"
"My dear boy," broke in Martin, laughingly, "there's nothing kills melike asking me to go over the past, either in reading an old letteror recalling an old conversation. And as to calling on me to justifysomething I once defended in argument, I 'd give up the cause at once,and say I was all wrong, in preference."
"Then I need not fear you will hold me responsible--"
"Not for anything, except your pledge to dine here tomorrow at seven."
Notwithstanding all the ease and frankness of Martin's manner--and asmanner it was perfect--the young man felt far from satisfied. His wantof breeding--that cruel want strong enough to mar the promise of highability, and even impair the excellence of many a noble nature--seemedto hold him fast bound to the object of his visit. He had come foran explanation, and he couldn't go away without it. Mary read hisdifficulty at once, and as she passed him to leave the room, said in alow voice, "To-morrow evening."
Nelligan started at the words, and his face became scarlet. Whatcould she have meant? Was it that she wished him to come, and had thuscondescended to remind him of his promise? or was it to suggest a morefitting moment to return to the late discussion?
"Are you coming to luncheon, Nelligan?" said Martin, rising.
"No, sir; not to-day. I have a call--a visit--some miles off." And whilehe was yet stammering out his excuses, Martin waved a familiar good-byewith his hand, and passed into the adjoining room.
"And what can this mean?" said Nelligan to himself. "Is this the cordialtreatment of an intimate, or is it contemptuous indifference for aninferior?" And, far more puzzled than he should have been with theknottiest problem of the "Principia," he quitted the house and strolledhomewards.
His way led along the shore, and consequently in front of thatstraggling row of cottages which formed the village. It chanced to bethe last day of the month, and, by the decree of the almanac, the closeof the bathing-season. The scene then going forward was one of unusualand not unpicturesque confusion. It was a general break-up of theencampment, and all were preparing to depart to their homes, inland. Hadyoung Nelligan been--what he was not--anything of a humorist, he mighthave been amused at the variety of equipage and costume around him.Conveyances the most cumbrous and most rickety, drawn by farm horses,or even donkeys, stopped the way before each door, all in process ofloading by a strangely attired assemblage, whose Welsh wigs, flanneldressing-gowns, and woollen nightcaps showed how, by a common consent,all had agreed to merge personal vanity in the emergency of the moment.The innumerable little concealments which had sheltered many a narrowhousehold, the various little stratagems that had eked out many a scantywardrobe, were now abandoned with a noble sincerity; and had there beena cork leg or a glass eye in the company, it would not have shrunk fromthe gaze of that open-hearted community.
Such of the travellers as had taken their places were already surroundedwith the strangest medley of household gods it is possible to conceive.Like trophies, bird-cages, candlesticks, spits, cullenders, fenders, andbread-baskets bristled around them, making one marvel how they ever gotin, or, still more, how they were ever to get out again; the croaking ofinvalids, with crying children, barking terriers, and scolding owners,making a suitable chorus to the confusion.
Still, amidst all the discomforts of the m
oment, amidst the lastwranglings with landlords, and the last squabbles over broken furnitureand missing movables, it must be owned that the prevailing temper of thescene was good-humor and jollity. The Irish temperament seems ever todiscover something congenial in those incidents of confusion and bustlewhich to other people are seasons of unmitigated misery, and even out ofits own sources of discomfiture can derive matter for that quaint humorwith which it can always regard life. In this wise was it that few nowdwelt much upon their own inconveniences, so long as they were free tolaugh at those of their neighbors.
Before he was well aware of it, young Nelligan found himself in the verymidst of this gathering, whose mirthful accents suddenly subsided athis approach, and an air of constraint and reserve seemed to take theirplace. Never very quick to appreciate such indications, he drew nighto a very lofty "conveniency" in which, with an air of statelydignity, Mrs. Cronan sat enthroned on a backgammon-table, with aportentous-looking cap-case in her lap.
"My mother will be sorry not to have seen you before you went away, Mrs.Cronan," said he to that lady, whose demure and frigid demeanor made thespeech sound like a bold one.
"I 'd have left my card and my compliments, sir, if I wasn't so pressedfor time," responded she, with a haughty gravity.
"With P. P. C. on the corner," said the Captain from his pony-gigalongside; "which means, pour prendre 'congo,' or 'congee,' I neverknew which."
"She 'll be very lonely now, for the few days we remain," resumed Joe,conscious of some awkwardness, without knowing where or how.
"Not with the society of your distinguished acquaintances at 'The Nest,'sir!" the sarcastic import of which reply was more in the manner thanthe mere words; while the old Captain murmured,--
"Begad, she gave it to him there,--a regular double-headed shot!"
"We hope to follow you by the end of the week," said Nelligan, trying toseem at ease.
"If you can tear yourselves away, I suppose," said Miss Busk, througha double veil of blue gauze; for that lady's auburn ringlets reposed atthe moment in the small mahogany casket beside her.
"There is not much attraction in the spot just now," said Joseph,smiling.
"Not for the like of us, perhaps, sir," retorted Mrs. Cronan,--"not forpersons in our station; but your fashionable people, I believe, alwaysprefer a place when the vulgar company have left it."
"Good again,--grape and canister!" chuckled out the Captain, who seemedto derive a high enjoyment from the scene.
"Would you move a little to one side, Mr. Nelligan?" said the doctor;"my pony won't stand."
"Oh, he's mettlesome," said Joe, good-humoredly, as he stepped out ofthe way.
"That he is, sir, though he never was leader in a four-in-hand; but, yousee, poor creatures of quadrupeds forget themselves down here, just liketheir betters!"
And the success of this sally was acknowledged by a general laugh fromthe company. The tone of the speakers, even more than their words,convinced Joseph that, from some cause or other, he was the object oftheir sarcasms; and although slow to take offence,--even to the verge ofwhat many might have called an unfeeling indifference,--he felt theirtreatment most acutely. It was, then, in something like a haughtydefiance that he wished them a careless good-bye, and continued his way.
"The world seems bent on puzzling me this morning," muttered he, as hesauntered slowly on. "People treat me as though I were playing some deepgame to their detriment,--I, who have no game, almost no future!" addedhe, despondingly. "For what avails it to attain eminence amidst such asthese; and, as for the others, I was not born for them."
To these moody thoughts succeeded others still gloomier. It had onlybeen within a short time back that the young man had begun to appreciatethe difficulties of a position to which his early successes impartedincreasing embarrassment; and darkly brooding over these things, he drewnear his mother's cottage. She was already at the door to meet him, witha letter in her hand.
"This is from your father, Joe," said she. "He wants you in all hasteup at the town; and I've packed your clothes, and sent off Patsey forMooney's car; so come in and eat something at once."
Joseph took the note from her hand and perused it in silence. It wasbrief, and ran thus:--
"Dear Joe,--I want you up here as soon as possible, to meet a friend whom you 'll be surprised to see. I say no more, but that I expect you by dinner-time.--Yours ever,
"D.N."
"What does that mean, Joe?" asked his mother.
He only shrugged his shoulders in reply.
"And who can it be?" said she again.
"Some of the townspeople, of course," said he, carelessly.
"No, no, Joe; it must be a stranger. Maybe it's Morgan Drake; his auntexpected him back from Jamaica before Christmas. Or it 's Corny Dwyer 'scome home from Africa; you know he went on the deploring expedition--""Exploring, mother,--exploring."
"Well, exploring or deploring, it's all the same. He went four yearsago, and all the tidings they 've had of him was an elephant's tooth hesent home to his stepfather. I know it's Corny, for your father alwaysliked him and the funny stories he told."
"Perhaps so!" replied Joe.
"I wonder, is he grown any bigger? He was little better than a dwarfwhen he went away, and the same age as yourself. No, indeed, he wasolder,--fourteen months older. It was Catty Henderson was running in myhead. Is n't she a fine young woman, Joe?"
"Remarkably so," said he, with more animation in his tone.
"A little bit too haughty-looking and proud, maybe, considering herstation in life, and that she has to go to service--"
"Go to service, mother?"
"To be sure she has. If they can't get her a place as a governess or acompanion, she 'll have to take what she can get. Her father's marriedagain, my dear Joe; and when men do that!" And here Mrs. Nelliganuplifted her hands and eyes most expressively. "Ay, indeed," continuedshe, with a heavy sigh, "and if it was once it was fifty times, Catty'spoor mother said to me, 'Sarah,' says she,--she never called me Sally,but always Sarah,--'Sarah,' says she, 'I 've but one comfort, and thatis that Catty will never want a mother while you live. You 'll be thesame to her as myself,--just as fond, and just as forgiving;' them washer very words!"
"And I hope you have never forgotten them, mother?" said Joe, withemotion.
"Don't you see I have n't; an't I repeating them to you this minute?"
"Yes; but I mean the spirit and the meaning of them," rejoined he, "andthat you feel the obligation they 've laid upon you."
"To be sure I feel it; don't I fret over it every time I 'm alone? for Ican't get it out of my head that maybe she 'd appear to me--"
"No, but her mother. Oh, it 's nothing to laugh at, Joe. There was ElizaKeane came back every Easter Monday for two-and-twenty years to searchfor a gravy-spoon. Well, if it's laughing you are, I won't say any more;but here 's the car now, and it's late enough we 'll be on the road!"
"I'm not thinking of going, mother. I never meant to go," said Joe,resolutely.
"Never meant to go, after your father's note to you, Joe?" cried she, inhalf horror. "Surely it's all as one as ordering you up there."
"I know all that," said he, calmly; "but I see no reason why I shouldforego the pleasure of a party at the Martins' for the sake of meetingthe convivial celebrities of Oughterard."
"But what will you say?"
"Say I'm engaged; have accepted another invitation; or, better still,leave you to make my excuses, mother. Come, come, don't look soterribly shocked and terrified. You know well enough that my father'sfour-year-old mutton and his crusted port will compensate the companyfor heavier inflictions than my absence."
"They were always fond of you, Joe," said Mrs. Nelligan, halfreproachfully.
"Nothing of the kind, mother; they never cared for me, nor was there anyreason why they should. I 'm sure I never cared for them. We endured oneanother; that was all."
"Oh, dear; but I 'm glad your father is not listening to you," saidshe, with a
stealthy glance around, as though not perfectly assuredof secrecy. "So, then, I suppose, there 's nothing for it but to go upmyself and make the best of it; and sure it's all a lottery what temperhe 's in, and how he 'll take it. I remember when they put the new dutyon--what was it, Joe? I think it was hides--"
"Not the least matter, mother; you 've only to say that Mr. Martinhas been kind enough to show me some attentions, and that I am sillyenough--if you like to say so--to prefer them to the festive pleasuresof Oughterard. In another week or so I shall have to go back to college.Let me, at least, enjoy the few days of my vacation in my own fashion."
Mrs. Nelligan shook her head mournfully over these signs of rebellion,and muttering many a gloomy foreboding, she went off to her room to makeher preparations for the journey.
The Martins Of Cro' Martin, Vol. I (of II) Page 13