Sybil, Or, The Two Nations

by Earl of Beaconsfield Benjamin Disraeli

  "I understand, then," said Lord Marney to his brother, as on the eveningof the same day they were seated together in the drawing-room, in closeconverse "I understand then, that you have in fact paid nothing, andthat my mother will give you a thousand pounds. That won't go very far."

  "It will hardly pay for the chairing," said Egremont; "the restorationof the family influence was celebrated on so great a scale."

  "The family influence must be supported," said Lord Marney, "and mymother will give you a thousand pounds; as I said, that will not do muchfor you, but I like her spirit. Contests are very expensive things, yetI quite approve of what you have done, especially as you won. It is agreat thing in these ten pound days to win your first contest, andshows powers of calculation which I respect. Everything in this world iscalculation there is no such thing as luck, depend upon it; and if yougo on calculating with equal exactness, you must succeed in life. Nowthe question is, what is to be done with your election bills?"

  "Exactly."

  "You want to know what I will do for you, or rather what I can do foryou; that is the point. My inclination of course is to do everythingfor you; but when I calculate my resources, I may find that they are notequal to my inclination."

  "I am sure, George, you will do everything, and more than everything youought."

  "I am extremely pleased about this thousand pounds of my mother,Charles."

  "Most admirable of her! But she always is so generous!"

  "Her jointure has been most regularly paid," continued Lord Marney."Always be exact in your payments, Charles. There is no end to the goodit produces. Now if I had not been so regular in paying my mother herjointure, she would not in all probability have been able to have givenyou this thousand pounds; and, therefore, to a certain extent, you areindebted for this thousand pounds to me."

  Egremont drew up a little, but said nothing.

  "I am obliged to pay my mother her jointure, whether ricks are burnt ornot," said Lord Marney. "It's very hard, don't you think so?"

  "But these ricks were Bingley's?"

  "But he was not insured, and he will want some reduction in his rent,and if I do not see fit to allow it him, which I probably shall not, forhe ought to have calculated on these things, I have ricks of my own, andthey may be burnt any night."

  "But you, of course, are insured?"

  "No, I am not; I calculate 'tis better to run the risk."

  "I wonder why ricks are burnt now, and were not in old days," saidEgremont.

  "Because there is a surplus population in the kingdom," said LordMarney, "and no rural police in the county."

  "You were speaking of the election, George," said Egremont, not withoutreluctance, yet anxious, as the ice had been broken, to bring the matterto a result. Lord Marney, before the election, had written, in replyto his mother consulting him on the step a letter with which she wasdelighted, but which Egremont at the time could have wished to have beenmore explicit. However in the excitement attendant on a first contest,and influenced by the person whose judgment always swayed, and, inthe present case, was peculiarly entitled to sway him, he stifled hisscruples, and persuaded himself that he was a candidate not only withthe sanction, but at the instance, of his brother. "You were speaking ofthe election, George," said Egremont.

  "About the election, Charles. Well, the long and short of it is this:that I wish to see you comfortable. To be harassed about money is one ofthe most disagreeable incidents of life. It ruffles the temper, lowersthe spirits, disturbs the rest, and finally breaks up one's health.Always, if you possibly can, keep square. And if by any chance you dofind yourself in a scrape, come to me. There is nothing under thosecircumstances like the advice of a cool-headed friend."

  "As valuable as the assistance of a cold-hearted one," thought Egremont,who did not fancy too much the tone of this conversation.

  "But there is one thing of which you must particularly beware,"continued Lord Marney, "there is one thing worse even than getting intodifficulties--patching them up. The patching-up system is fatal; it issure to break down; you never get clear. Now, what I want to do for you,Charles, is to put you right altogether. I want to see you square andmore than square, in a position which will for ever guarantee you fromany annoyance of this kind."

  "He is a good fellow after all," thought Egremont.

  "That thousand pounds of my mother was very a propos," said Lord Marney;"I suppose it was a sop that will keep them all right till we have madeour arrangements."

  "Oh! there is no pressure of that kind," said Egremont; "if I see myway, and write to them, of course they will be quite satisfied."

  "Excellent," said Lord Marney; "and nothing could be more convenient tome, for, between ourselves, my balances are very low at this moment.The awful expenditure of keeping up this place! And then such terribleincumbrances as I came to!"

  "Incumbrances, George! Why, I thought you had not any. There was not asingle mortgage."

  "No mortgages; they are nothing; you find them, you get used to them,and you calculate accordingly. You quite forget the portions for youngerchildren."

  "Yes; but you had plenty of ready money for them."

  "I had to pay them though," said Lord Marney. "Had I not, I might havebought Grimblethorpe with the money; such an opportunity will neveroccur again."

  "But you talked of incumbrances," said Egremont.

  "Ah! my dear fellow," said Lord Marney, "you don't know what it is tohave to keep up an estate like this; and very lucky for you. It isnot the easy life you dream of. There's buildings--I am ruined inbuildings--our poor dear father thought he left me Marney without anincumbrance; why, there was not a barn on the whole estate that wasweather-proof; not a farm-house that was not half in ruins. What I havespent in buildings! And draining! Though I make my own tiles, draining,my dear fellow, is a something of which you have not the least idea!"

  "Well," said Egremont, anxious to bring his brother back to the point,"you think, then, I had better write to them and say--"

  "Ah! now for your business," said Lord Marney. "Now, I will tell youwhat I can do for you. I was speaking to Arabella about it last night;she quite approves my idea. You remember the De Mowbrays? Well, we aregoing to stay at Mowbray Castle, and you are to go with us. It is thefirst time they have received company since their great loss. Ah! youwere abroad at the time, and so you are behind hand. Lord Mowbray'sonly son, Fitz-Warene, you remember him, a deuced clever fellow, he diedabout a year ago, in Greece, of a fever. Never was such a blow! Histwo sisters, Lady Joan and Lady Maud, are looked upon as the greatestheiresses in the kingdom; but I know Mowbray well; he will make aneldest son of his eldest daughter. She will have it all; she is one ofArabella's dearest friends; and you are to marry her."

  Egremont stared at his brother, who patted him on the back with anexpression of unusual kindness, and adding, "You have no idea whata load this has taken off my mind, my dear Charles; so great has myanxiety always been about you, particularly of late. To see you lord ofMowbray Castle will realize my fondest hopes. That is a position fit fora man, and I know none more worthy of it than yourself, though I am yourbrother who say so. Now let us come and speak to Arabella about it."

  So saying, Lord Marney, followed somewhat reluctantly by his brother,advanced to the other end of the drawing-room, where his wife wasemployed with her embroidery-frame, and seated next to her young friend,Miss Poinsett, who was playing chess with Captain Grouse, a member ofthe chess club, and one of the most capital performers extant.

  "Well, Arabella," said Lord Marney, "it is all settled; Charles agreeswith me about going to Mowbray Castle, and I think the sooner we go thebetter. What do you think of the day after to-morrow? That will suit meexactly, and therefore I think we had better fix on it. We will considerit settled."

  Lady Marney looked embarrassed, and a little distressed. Nothingcould be more unexpected by her than this proposition nothing moreinconvenient than the arrangement. It was very true that Lady JoanFitz-Warene had invited them to
Mowbray, and she had some vagueintention, some day or other, of deliberating whether they should availthemselves of this kindness; but to decide upon going, and upon goinginstantly, without the least consultation, the least inquiry as to thesuitableness of the arrangement, the visit of Miss Poinsett abruptlyand ungraciously terminated, for example--all this was vexatious,distressing: a mode of management which out of the simplest incidentsof domestic life contrived to extract some degree of perplexity andannoyance.

  "Do not you think, George," said Lady Marney, "that we had better talkit over a little?"

  "Not at all," said Lord Marney: "Charles will go, and it quite suits me,and therefore what necessity for any consultation?"

  "Oh! if you and Charles like to go, certainly." said Lady Marney in ahesitating tone; "only I shall be very sorry to lose your society."

  "How do you mean lose our society Arabella? Of course you must go withus. I particularly want you to go. You are Lady Joan's most intimatefriend; I believe there is no one she likes so much."

  "I cannot go the day after to-morrow," said Lady Marney, speaking in awhisper, and looking volumes of deprecation.

  "I cannot help it," said Lord Marney; "you should have told me thisbefore. I wrote to Mowbray to-day, that we should be with him the dayafter to-morrow, and stay a week."

  "But you never mentioned it to me," said Lady Marney, slightly blushingand speaking in a tone of gentle reproach.

  "I should like to know when I am to find time to mention the contentsof every letter I write," said Lord Marney; "particularly with all thevexatious business I have had on my hands to-day. But so it is; the moreone tries to save you trouble, the more discontented you get."

  "No, not discontented, George."

  "I do not know what you call discontented; but when a man has made everypossible arrangement to please you and every body, and all his plans areto be set aside merely because the day he has fixed on does not exactlysuit your fancy, if that be not discontent, I should like very much toknow what is, Arabella."

  Lady Marney did not reply. Always sacrificed, always yielding, themoment she attempted to express an opinion, she ever seemed to assumethe position not of the injured but the injurer.

  Arabella was a woman of abilities, which she had cultivated. She hadexcellent sense, and possessed many admirable qualities; she was farfrom being devoid of sensibility; but her sweet temper shrank fromcontroversy, and Nature had not endowed her with a spirit which coulddirect and control. She yielded without a struggle to the arbitrary willand unreasonable caprice of a husband, who was scarcely her equal inintellect, and far her inferior in all the genial qualities of ournature, but who governed her by his iron selfishness.

  Lady Marney absolutely had no will of her own. A hard, exact, literal,bustling, acute being environed her existence; directed, planned,settled everything. Her life was a series of petty sacrifices andbaulked enjoyments. If her carriage were at the door, she was nevercertain that she would not have to send it away; if she had asked somefriends to her house, the chances were she would have to put them off;if she were reading a novel, Lord Marney asked her to copy a letter; ifshe were going to the opera, she found that Lord Marney had got seatsfor her and some friend in the House of Lords, and seemed expecting thestrongest expressions of delight and gratitude from her for his unaskedand inconvenient kindness. Lady Marney had struggled against thistyranny in the earlier days of their union. Innocent, inexperienced LadyMarney! As if it were possible for a wife to contend against a selfishhusband, at once sharp-witted and blunt-hearted! She had appealed tohim, she had even reproached him; she had wept, once she had knelt.But Lord Marney looked upon these demonstrations as the disorderedsensibility of a girl unused to the marriage state, and ignorant of thewise authority of husbands, of which he deemed himself a model. Andso, after a due course of initiation, Lady Marney invisible for days,plunged in remorseful reveries in the mysteries of her boudoir, and herlord dining at his club and going to the minor theatres; the countesswas broken in, and became the perfect wife of a perfect husband.

  Lord Marney, who was fond of chess, turned out Captain Grouse, and verygallantly proposed to finish his game with Miss Poinsett, which MissPoinsett, who understood Lord Marney as well as he understood chess,took care speedily to lose, so that his lordship might encounter achampion worthy of him. Egremont seated by his sister-in-law, andanxious by kind words to soothe the irritation which he had observedwith pain his brother create, entered into easy talk, and after sometime, said, "I find you have been good enough to mould my destiny."

  Lady Marney looked a little surprised, and then said, "How so?"

  "You have decided on I hear the most important step of my life."

  "Indeed you perplex me."

  "Lady Joan Fitz-Warene, your friend--"

  The countess blushed; the name was a clue which she could follow, butEgremont nevertheless suspected that the idea had never previouslyoccurred to her. Lady Joan she described as not beautiful; certainly notbeautiful; nobody would consider her beautiful, many would indeed thinkher quite the reverse; and yet she had a look, one particular look whenaccording to Lady Marney, she was more than beautiful. But she was veryclever, very indeed, something quite extraordinary.

  "Accomplished?"

  "Oh! far beyond that; I have heard even men say that no one knew somuch."

  "A regular blue?"

  "Oh! no; not at all a blue; not that kind of knowledge. But languagesand learned books; Arabic, and Hebrew, and old manuscripts. And then shehas an observatory, and was the first person who discovered the comet.Dr Buckland swears by her; and she corresponds with Arago."

  "And her sister, is she the same?"

  "Lady Maud: she is very religious. I do not know her so well."

  "Is she pretty?"

  "Some people admire her very much."

  "I never was at Mowbray. What sort of a place is it?"

  "Oh! it is very grand," said Lady Marney; "but like all places in themanufacturing districts, very disagreeable. You never have a clear sky.Your toilette table is covered with blacks; the deer in the park seemas if they had bathed in a lake of Indian ink; and as for the sheep, youexpect to see chimney-sweeps for the shepherds."

  "And do you really mean to go on Thursday?" said Egremont: "I think wehad better put it off."

  "We must go," said Lady Marney, with a sort of sigh, and shaking herhead.

  "Let me speak to Marney."

  "Oh! no. We must go. I am annoyed about this dear little Poinsett: shehas been to stay with me so very often, and she has only been herethree days. When she comes in again, I wish you would ask her to sing,Charles."

  Soon the dear little Poinsett was singing, much gratified by beinginvited to the instrument by Mr Egremont, who for a few minutes hungover her, and then evidently under the influence of her tones, walked upand down the room, and only speaking to beg that she would continue hercharming performances. Lady Marney was engrossed with her embroidery;her lord and the captain with their game.

  And what was Egremont thinking of? Of Mowbray be you sure. And of LadyJoan or Lady Maud? Not exactly. Mowbray was the name of the town towhich the strangers he had met with in the Abbey were bound. It was theonly piece of information that he had been able to obtain of them; andthat casually.

  When the fair vision of the starlit arch, about to descend to her twocompanions, perceived that they were in conversation with a stranger,she hesitated, and in a moment withdrew. Then the elder of thetravellers, exchanging a glance with his friend, bid good even toEgremont.

  "Our way perhaps lies the same," said Egremont.

  "I should deem not," said the stranger, "nor are we alone."

  "And we must be stirring, for we have far to go," said he who wasdressed in black.

  "My journey is very brief," said Egremont, making a desperate effort toinvite communication "and I am on horseback!"

  "And we on foot," said the elder; "nor shall we stop till we reachMowbray;" and with a slight salute, they left Egremont a
lone. Therewas something in the manner of the elder stranger which repressed thepossibility of Egremont following him. Leaving then the cloister gardenin another direction, he speculated on meeting them outside the abbey.He passed through the Lady's chapel. The beautiful Religious was notthere. He gained the west front; no one was visible. He took a rapidsurvey of each side of the abbey; not a being to be recognized. Hefancied they must have advanced towards the Abbey Farm; yet they mighthave proceeded further on in the dale. Perplexed, he lost time. Finallyhe proceeded towards the farm, but did not overtake them; reached it,but learned nothing of them; and arrived at his brother's full of astrange yet sweet perplexity.

  Book 2 Chapter 7