The Martins Of Cro' Martin, Vol. I (of II)

by Charles James Lever

  CHAPTER XII. A VERY "CROSS EXAMINATION"

  The morning was bright and sunny, the air sharp, crisp, and bracing,as the heavy travelling-carriage which conveyed Mr. Martin and LadyDorothea rolled smoothly along the trimly kept approach to Cro' Martin.Many a beautiful glade, many a lovely vista opened on them as theypassed along deep-bosomed woods and gently swelling slopes, dotted overwith cattle, stretched away on either side; while far in the distancecould be seen the battlemented towers of the princely residence.

  The lover of nature might have felt intense pleasure at a scene soabounding in objects of beauty. A painter would have lingered withdelight over effects of light and shade, glorious displays of color, andgraceful groupings of rocks and trees and gnarled stumps. A proud manmight have exulted in the selfish enjoyment of feeling that these wereall his own; while a benevolent one would have revelled in the thoughtof all the channels through which such wealth might carry the blessingsof aid and charity.

  Which of these feelings predominated now in the minds of those who,snugly encased in furs, occupied the respective corners of theample coach? Shall we own it? Not any of them. A dreamy, unremarkingindifference was the sentiment of each; and they sat silently gazingon a prospect which suggested nothing, nor awoke one passing emotion intheir hearts. Had any one been there to express his admiration of thelandscape,--praised the trees, the cattle, or the grassy slopes,--Martinmight have heard him with pleasure, and listened even with interest tohis description. My Lady, too, might not unwillingly have lent an earto some flattery of the splendid demesne of which she was mistress,and accepted as half homage the eulogy of what was hers. None such was,however, there; and so they journeyed along, as seemingly unconscious asthough the scene were wrapped in midnight darkness.

  Martin had known the spot, and every detail of it, from his boyhood. Thetimber, indeed, had greatly grown,--graceful saplings had become statelytrees, and feathery foliage deepened into leafy shade; but he himselfhad grown older, too, and his sense of enjoyment, dulled and deadenedwith years, saw nothing in the scene to awaken pleasure. As for LadyDorothea, she had reasoned herself into the notion that the walls of herown grounds were the boundaries of a prison, and had long convincedherself that she was a suffering martyr to some mysterious sense ofduty. From the drowsy languor in which they reclined they were botharoused, as the pace of the carriage gradually diminished from a smoothbrisk trot to an uneven jolting motion, the very reverse of agreeable.

  "What have they done? Where are they going?" said Lady Dorothea,peevishly.

  And Martin called out from the window, in tones even less gentle. "Oh,it's the new approach; the road is not quite completed," said he, halfsulkily, as he resumed his place.

  "Another of Miss Martin's clever devices, which, I must say, I neverconcurred in."

  "Why, you always professed to hate the old road by the stables."

  "So I did; but I never agreed to passing round the back of the house,and thus destroying the privacy of the flower-garden,--the only spot Imay dare to call my own. Oh, dear! I shall be shaken to death. Havethey broken the carriage? I 'm certain they 've smashed the spring at myside!"

  Martin gave a cold, supercilious smile, the only reply to these words.

  "They 've only broken a trace, I perceive," said he, casting a hurriedglance through the window, as the carriage came to a dead stop.

  "You are equanimity itself, sir, this morning," said her Ladyship, ina voice almost tremulous with anger. "I wonder if this admirable temperwill befriend you when you shall see the cost of this precious piece ofroad-making?"

  "It employs the people," said he, coolly.

  "Employs the people! How I hate that cant phrase! Can't they employthemselves on their own farms? Have n't they digging and draining, andwhatever it is, to do of their own? Must they of necessity depend onus for support, and require that we should institute useless works toemploy them?"

  As if to offer a living commentary on her speech, a number of half-fedand less than half-clad men now drew near, and in accents of a mostservile entreaty begged to offer their services. Some, indeed, hadalready busied themselves to repair the broken harness, and otherswere levelling the road, carrying stones to fill up holes, and inevery possible manner endeavoring to render assistance; but all werevociferous in asserting that the delay would not be above a minute ortwo; that the road was an elegant one, or would be soon, and that it wasa "raal blessing" to see her Ladyship and the master looking so well. Infact, they were thankful and hopeful together; and, notwithstanding theevidences of the deepest destitution in their appearance, they wore anair of easy, jaunty politeness, such as many a professional diner-outmight have envied. Lady Dorothea was in no mood to appreciate suchtraits; indeed, if the truth must be told, they rather ruffled thansoothed her. Martin saw nothing in them; he was too much accustomed tothe people to be struck with any of their peculiarities, and so he layback in silent apathy, and took no notice of them.

  With all their alacrity and all their good-will--and there was no lackof either--there was yet such a total absence of all system and order,that their efforts were utterly useless. Some tugged away manfullyto raise stones too heavy to lift; others came rudely in contact withfellows heavily laden, and upset them. The sturdy arms that spoked thehind wheels were resolutely antagonized by as vigorous struggles to movethe fore ones. Every one shouted, cried, cursed, and laughed, by turns;and a more hopeless scene of confusion and uproar need not be conceived.Nor was Lady Dorothea herself an inactive spectator; for, with her headfrom the carriage-window, she directed a hundred impossible measures,and sat down at last, overcome with rage and mortification at theirblunders.

  The tumult was now at the highest, and the horses, terrified by thenoise around them, had commenced plunging and rearing fearfully, whenMary Martin came galloping up to the spot at full speed.

  "Let go that bridle, Hogan," cried she, aloud; "you are driving thathorse mad. Loose the leaders' traces; unbuckle the reins, Patsey; thewheelers will stand quietly. There, lead them away. Speak to that mare;she 's trembling with fear. I told you not to come by this road, Barney;and it was only by accident that I saw the wheel-tracks. A thousandpardons, Aunt Dora, for this mishap. Barney misunderstood my orders. Itwill be all right in a moment. Once over this bad spot, the road is hardand level."

  "Having no taste, nor any genius for adventures, Miss Martin," beganher Ladyship--But Mary did not await the remainder of the speech; for,turning her horse sharply round, and beckoning to some of the peopleto follow her, she was away across the lawn at a smart canter. Havingarrived at a small wooden bridge over a river, she ordered the men tolift some of the planking, by the aid of which they soon constructeda firm and safe passage for the carriage; and as her presence was thesignal for quiet obedience and prompt action, in less than ten minutesthe difficulty was surmounted, the horses reharnessed, and all inreadiness to proceed on their way.

  Martin looked on in silent satisfaction, not offering a singlesuggestion, or even seeming to feel interested in the events, butenjoying, with all a lazy man's pleasure, the activity displayed aroundhim. Not so Lady Dorothea. If she did not like "an adventure," sheloved "a grievance." Whatever ministered to her selfishness, even in theremotest degree, was grateful to her. Mary's opportune arrival had nowconverted what might have passed for a calamity into a mere momentaryinconvenience; and she could not conceal her discontent. "Your heroinesare a perfect torment; at least, to us souls of commoner clay. They liveonly for disasters."

  "I must say that Mary extricated us from what might have become one,"said Martin, dryly.

  "We are indebted to her, however, for the possibility. This detestableroad, which I promise you I 'll never come again, is entirely her owninvention. I hope, Miss Martin," added she, from the window, "that theother approach is to be kept in repair,--at least, for me." But Marydid not hear the appeal, for she was bandaging the arm of a poor countryfellow, who had been sorely cut.

  "There, drive on, Barney," cried Lady Dorothea. "I shal
l be taken illif I stay here. Really, Mr. Martin, your niece's accomplishments arethe least feminine one can conceive." And improving this theme, shecontinued the entire way till the carriage drew up at the door of thecastle.

  "Yes, sir," said she, as she descended, "that heavy sigh shows you areindeed greatly to be pitied. No martyrdom ever exceeded yours. I amquite aware of all my imperfections, and can at least fancy everythingyou could say of me and my temper. What did you say, Collins?" said she,addressing the obsequious-looking servant, who, with an air of gloomyjoy, very respectful,--but meant to mean more,--had whispered somethingin her ear.

  "A young lady, did you say, Collins?"

  "Yes, my Lady."

  "Then you were very wrong, Collins. You meant to say a young person."

  "Yes, my Lady,--a young person, like a lady."

  "Not in the least, except to such appreciation as yours. Where is she?"

  "In your Ladyship's library."

  "Did she come alone?"

  "No, my Lady. Mr. Henderson drove her over in his car, and said he 'dpass this way again in the evening."

  And now her Ladyship swept proudly by, scarcely noticing the bowingservants who had formed into a line along the hall, and who endeavoredto throw into their sorrowful faces as much of joy as might consist withthe very deepest humility. Nor was she more condescending to old Catty,who stood courtesying at the top of the stairs, with a basket of keys onher arm that might have served to lock up all Newgate.

  "How cold every place feels! Collins, are you sure the rooms areproperly aired?" cried she, shuddering. "But I suppose it's the climate.Have another stove put there," said she, pointing to an impossiblelocality.

  "Yes, my Lady," replied Collins.

  "And warmer carpets on these passages."

  "Yes, my Lady; it shall be done to-morrow."

  "No, sir; to-day."

  "Yes, my Lady; this afternoon."

  "I don't remember if the windows are double along here."

  "Yes, my Lady, they are all double towards the north."

  "Then they fit badly, for I feel the draught acutely here. It's like thekeen air of a mountain;" and Collins gave a slight sympathetic shudder,and really looked cold. A somewhat haughty glance from her Ladyship,however, as quickly reproved him, for Collins ought to have knownthat it was not by such as himself changes of temperature could beappreciable. And now she passed on and entered that part of themansion peculiarly her own, and where, it must be owned, her spirit offault-finding would have been at a loss what to condemn.

  Lady Dorothea's library occupied an angle of the building; and from thiscircumstance, included within its precincts an octagonal tower, the viewfrom which comprised every varied character of landscape. This favoredspot was fitted up in the most luxurious taste,--with rarest gems ofart, and cabinet pictures of almost fabulous value,--to supplywhich foreign dealers and connoisseurs had been for years back incorrespondence with her Ladyship. Now it was some rare treasure ofcarved ivory, or some sculptured cup of Benvenuto, that had beendiscovered accidentally, and which, despite the emulous zeal of princesand cardinals to obtain, was destined for herself. Now it was somechoice mosaic of which but one other specimen existed, and that in thePope's private collection at the Quirinal. Such was her ardor in thispursuit of excellence, that more than once had every object of thisprecious chamber been changed, to give place to something more costly,more precious, and rarer. For about two years back, however, theresources of the old world seemed to offer nothing worthy of attention,and the vases, the "statuettes," the bronzes, the pictures, andmedallions had held their ground undisturbed.

  Such was the sanctity of this spot, that in showing the house tostrangers it was never opened, nor, without a special order from LadyDorothea,--a favor somewhat more difficult to obtain than a firman fromthe Sultan,--could any one be admitted within its walls. The trustyservant in whose charge it was, was actually invested with a species ofsacred character in the household, as one whose feet had passed thethreshold of the tabernacle. Our reader may then picture to himselfsomething of Lady Dorothea's varied sensations--for, indeed, they weremost mingled--as she heard a slight cough from within the chamber, and,drawing nearer, perceived a female figure seated in front of one of thewindows, calmly regarding the landscape.

  With a degree of noise and bustle sufficient to announce her approach,Lady Dorothea entered the tower; while the stranger, rising, retired onestep, and courtesied very deeply. There was in all the humility of theobeisance a certain degree of graceful dignity that certainly struckher Ladyship; and her haughty look and haughtier tone were some littlemodified as she asked by what accident she found her there.

  "My intrusion was a pure accident, my Lady," replied the other, in alow, soft voice; "mistaking the door by which I had entered a room, Iwandered on through one after another until I found myself here. I begyour Ladyship to believe that nothing was further from my thoughts thanto obtrude upon your privacy."

  "Your name?" began her Ladyship; and then, as suddenly correctingherself, she said, "You are Miss Henderson, I suppose?"

  "Yes, my Lady," she replied, with a slight bend of the head.

  "I sent for you," said Lady Dorothea, in a half-careless tone, while sheturned over some books on the table, as if in search of something,--"Isent for you, partly at the request of your mother--"

  "My stepmother, my Lady," interposed the girl, calmly.

  Lady Dorothea stared at her for a second or two, as though to say, howhad she dared to correct her; but either that the reproof had not metits full success, or that she did not care to pursue it, she added, "Atthe request of your friends, and partly out of curiosity." And hereLady Dorothea raised her glass to her eye, and quietly surveyed her,--anexamination which, it must be owned, none could have borne with moreunshaken fortitude; not the slightest tremor of a limb, not the faintestchange of color betokening that the ordeal was a painful one.

  "I do see that you have been educated in France," said her Ladyship,with a smile of most supercilious import, while a courtesy from theyoung girl admitted the fact.

  "Were you brought up in Paris?" asked she, after a pause.

  "For four years, my Lady."

  "And the remainder of the time, where was it passed?"

  "We travelled a great deal, my Lady, in Germany and Italy."

  "'We,'--who were the 'we' you speak of? Please to bear in mind that Iknow nothing of your history."

  "I forgot that, my Lady. I thought my stepmother had, perhaps, informedyour Ladyship."

  "Of nothing whatever, child," said she, haughtily, "save of your havinga foreign education, and wishing, or hoping, to find some engagementas a governess or a teacher;" and the last words were drawled outlanguidly, as though they were suggestive of all that was wearisome anda bore. "So you must be good enough to explain who 'we' were."

  "The Duchesse de Luygnes and her family, my Lady."

  "You travelled with them; and in what capacity, pray?"

  "I was called companion to the Princesse de Courcelles, the eldestdaughter of the Duchess, my Lady."

  "Companion!--why, you must have been a mere child at the time?"

  "A mere child, my Lady; but they took me from the Pensionnat, to speakEnglish with the young Princess."

  "And then they took the charge of your education, I conclude?"

  "Yes, my Lady."

  "And to what extent--or rather, in what direction; I mean, what objecthad they in view in choosing your studies?"

  "They gave me the same masters as to the young Princess, my Lady; and Iwas instructed in all respects as she was."

  "And treated like her also, I conclude?" said Lady Dorothea, with asneering smile.

  "Madame la Duchesse was ever most kind to me," said the girl, halfproudly.

  "Kind--yes, of course--kind, if you conducted yourself properly and toher satisfaction. A person of her condition would be kind; but I trustthis did not proceed so far as to spoil you? I hope it never made youforget your station?"


  "I trust it did not, my Lady."

  "With what part of the establishment did you live? Where did you dine?"

  "With the Princess, my Lady; except on _fete_ days, when we were invitedto the table of the Duchess."

  "I never heard of anything more absurd,--outrageously absurd. Why, areyou aware, young woman, that these same friends of yours have done youirreparable mischief? They have, so to say, ruined your entire future;for how can I, and others in my station, avail myself of your services,with such habits and expectations as these?"

  "Certainly not expectations, my Lady. I never did or can expect suchcondescension from another."

  "No matter; your head is filled with ideas unbefitting your condition,usages, habits, associations, all foreign to a menial station. Youhave been admitted to privileges the want of which would be felt ashardships. In fact, as I said before, they have done you irreparableinjury. You must feel it yourself."

  A very faint smile, half in deprecation of the appeal, was the onlyreply of the young girl.

  "You are certain to feel it later on in life, if you are not sensible ofit at present, that I can vouch for, young woman," said Lady Dorothea,with all the firmness with which she could utter an unpleasant speech."Nothing but unhappiness ever resulted from such ill-judged indulgence.Indeed, if your mother had mentioned the circumstances, I scarcely thinkI should have sent for you"--she paused to see if any strong signs ofcontrite sorrow displayed themselves in the young girl's features; nonesuch were there, and Lady Dorothea more sternly added,--"I may safelysay, I never should have asked to see you."

  When a speech meant to be severe has failed to inflict the pain it wasintended to produce, it invariably recoils with redoubled power upon himwho uttered it; and so Lady Dorothea now felt all the pang of herown ungenerous sentiment. With an effort to shake off this unpleasantsensation, she resumed,--

  "I might go further, and observe that unless you yourself becamethoroughly penetrated with the fact, you must always prove veryunsuitable to the station you are destined to occupy in life. Do youunderstand me?"

  "I believe I do, my Lady," was the calm reply.

  "And also," resumed she, still more dictatorially--"and also, thatacquiring this knowledge by yourself will be less painful to yourfeelings than if impressed upon you by others. Do you fully apprehendme?"

  "I think so, my Lady."

  Now, although the tone and manner of the young girl were unexceptionablein all that regards deference and respect, Lady Dorothea was not alittle provoked at her unbroken composure. There was no confusion, noteven a semblance of constraint about her. She replied to even sarcasticquestions without the faintest shadow of irritation, and exhibitedthroughout the most perfect quietude and good breeding. Had the "youngperson" been overwhelmed with shame, or betrayed into any access oftemper, her Ladyship's manner would have presented a pattern of haughtydignity and gracefulness, and her rebukes would have been delivered ina tone of queen-like superiority; but Miss Henderson afforded noopportunity for these great qualities. She was deference itself; butdeference so self-possessed, so assured of its own safeguard, as to bepositively provoking.

  "Under all these circumstances, therefore," resumed Lady Dorothea, as ifhaving revolved mighty thoughts within her mind, "it appears to me youwould not suit me."

  But even this speech failed to call up one trait of disappointment, andthe young girl received it with only a deep courtesy.

  "I'm sorry for it," continued my Lady, "on your mother's account; youreducation has of course cost her and your father many sacrifices, whichyour duty requires you to repay." She paused, as if asking for someassent to this speech.

  Another deep courtesy was the reply.

  "There, that will do," said Lady Dorothea, angrily; for any attempt toprovoke seemed an utter failure. "I think I have nothing more tosay. When I shall see your mother I can explain more fully to her.Good-morning."

  "I wish your Ladyship good-morning," said the girl, with a deepobeisance, and in a voice of perfect deference, while she retiredtowards the door. Before she had reached it, however, Lady Dorotheaagain addressed her.

  "You forgot, I think, to tell me why you left the Duchesse de Luygnes?"

  "I left on the marriage of the Princess, my Lady."

  "Oh, I remember; she married a Russian, I think."

  "No, my Lady; she married the Duc de Mirecourt, French Ambassador at St.Petersburg."

  "Ah, to be sure. I knew there was something Russian about it. And sothey sent you away then?"

  "The Duchess most kindly invited me to accompany her, my Lady, but myfather desired I should return to Ireland."

  "And very properly," said Lady Dorothea; "he took a most just view ofthe case; your position would only have exposed you to great perils. I'msure you are not of my opinion, for distrust of yourself does not appearone of your failings."--It is possible that this ungenerous remark wasevoked by a very slight curl of the young girl's lip, and which, faintas it was, did not escape her Ladyship's keen glances.--"Good-morning."

  Again had Miss Henderson gained the door; her hand was already on thelock, when her Ladyship called out: "In the event of anything occurringto me likely to suit you, I ought to know what you can teach; and mind,don't bore me with a mere catalogue of hard names, but say what youreally know."

  "Some modern languages, my Lady, with music."

  "No Greek or Latin?" said Lady Dorothea, half sneer-ingly.

  "Latin, perhaps; but though I can read some Greek, I could not ventureto teach it."

  "Nor Hebrew?"

  "No, my Lady."

  "And the modern tongues,--which of them do you profess to know?"

  "French, Italian, Spanish, and German."

  "And don't you draw?--they showed me what they called yours."

  "Yes, my Lady, but I cannot teach drawing."

  "And of course you are thoroughly versed in history. Have you studiedany scientific subjects?--mathematics, for instance."

  "Only a few of the French initial books, my Lady."

  "Why, you are quite an Admirable Crichton for acquirement. I feel reallyabashed to find myself in such company." But even this coarse speechfailed to irritate, and Lady Dorothea walked angrily towards the windowand looked out.

  It so chanced that, through an opening of the wood, she caught sightof a large assemblage of workpeople, who, headed by Miss Martin onhorseback, were on their way to the quarries; and as she looked, asudden thought flashed across her: "Why not retain the 'young person' asa companion for her niece? How admirably would all this girl'sknowledge contrast with Mary's ignorance! What an unceasing source ofdisparagement would their contact afford, at the very moment thatthe arrangement might seem dictated by the very best and highest ofmotives."

  It may doubtless appear to many, that the individual who could reasonthus must be animated by a most corrupt and depraved nature, butunhappily the spiteful element in the human heart is one which nevermeasures its modes of attack, but suffers itself to be led on, from actsof mere petty malice to actions of downright baseness and badness. LadyDorothea was not devoid of good traits, but once involved in a pursuit,she totally forgot the object which originally suggested it, but engagedall her zeal and all her ardor for success. She would have been shockedat the bare possibility of actually injuring her niece; she would haveresented with indignation the mere mention of such; but yet she wouldhave eagerly grasped at whatever afforded a chance of dominating overher. Mary's influence in the household--her rule over the peasantry ofthe estate--was a perpetual source of annoyance to her Ladyship, and yetshe never knew how to thwart it, till now that chance seemed to offerthis means.

  "You need not go back just yet: I 'll speak to Mr. Martin about you,"said she, turning towards Miss Henderson; and, with a respectfulcourtesy, the girl withdrew, leaving her Ladyship to her own somewhatcomplicated reflections.

  In less than half an hour after Lady Dorothea proceeded to Mr. Martin'sstudy, where a cabinet council was held, the substance of which ourreader c
an readily conceive; nor need he have any doubts as to thedecision, when we say that Lady Dorothea retired to her own room with alook of satisfaction so palpably displayed that Mademoiselle Hortense,her maid, remarked to herself, "Somebody or other was sure to pass a_mauvais quart d'heure_ when _miladi_ goes to her room with an air ofsuch triumphant meaning as that."