by Walter Scott
CHAPTER XII.
DISCUSSION.
I will converse with iron-witted fools And unrespective boys--none are for me That look into me with suspicious eyes.
_Richard III._
"How now, Jekyl!" said Lord Etherington, eagerly; "what news from theenemy?--Have you seen him?"
"I have," replied Jekyl.
"And in what humour did you find him?--in none that was very favourable,I dare say, for you have a baffled and perplexed look, that confesses alosing game--I have often warned you how your hang-dog look betrays youat brag--And then, when you would fain brush up your courage, and put agood face on a bad game, your bold looks always remind me of a standardhoisted only half-mast high, and betraying melancholy and dejection,instead of triumph and defiance."
"I am only holding the cards for your lordship at present," answeredJekyl; "and I wish to Heaven there may be no one looking over the hand."
"How do you mean by that?"
"Why, I was beset, on returning through the wood, by an old bore, aNabob, as they call him, and Touchwood by name."
"I have seen such a quiz about," said Lord Etherington--"What of him?"
"Nothing," answered Jekyl, "except that he seemed to know much more ofyour affairs than you would wish or are aware of. He smoked the truth ofthe rencontre betwixt Tyrrel and you, and what is worse--I must needsconfess the truth--he contrived to wring out of me a sort ofconfirmation of his suspicions."
"'Slife! wert thou mad?" said Lord Etherington, turning pale; "His isthe very tongue to send the story through the whole country--Hal, youhave undone me."
"I hope not," said Jekyl; "I trust in Heaven I have not!--His knowledgeis quite general--only that there was some scuffle between you--Do notlook so dismayed about it, or I will e'en go back and cut his throat, tosecure his secrecy."
"Cursed indiscretion!" answered the Earl--"how could you let him fix onyou at all?"
"I cannot tell," said Jekyl--"he has powers of boring beyond ten of thedullest of all possible doctors--stuck like a limpet to a rock--aperfect double of the Old Man of the Sea, who I take to have been thegreatest bore on record."
"Could you not have turned him on his back like a turtle, and left himthere?" said Lord Etherington.
"And had an ounce of lead in my body for my pains? No--no--we havealready had footpad work enough--I promise you the old buck was armed,as if he meant to bing folks on the low toby."[II-8]
"Well--well--But Martigny, or Tyrrel, as you call him--what says he?"
"Why, Tyrrel, or Martigny, as your lordship calls him," answered Jekyl,"will by no means listen to your lordship's proposition. He will notconsent that Miss Mowbray's happiness shall be placed in your lordship'skeeping; nay, it did not meet his approbation a bit the more, when Ihinted at the acknowledgment of the marriage, or the repetition of theceremony, attended by an immediate separation, which I thought I mightventure to propose."
"And on what grounds does he refuse so reasonable an accommodation?"said Lord Etherington--"Does he still seek to marry the girl himself?"
"I believe he thinks the circumstances of the case render thatimpossible," replied his confidant.
"What? then he would play the dog in the manger--neither eat nor leteat?--He shall find himself mistaken. She has used me like a dog, Jekyl,since I saw you; and, by Jove! I will have her, that I may break herpride, and cut him to the liver with the agony of seeing it."
"Nay, but hold--hold!" said Jekyl; "perhaps I have something to say onhis part, that may be a better compromise than all you could have byteasing him. He is willing to purchase what he calls Miss Mowbray'stranquillity, at the expense of his resignation of his claims to yourfather's honours and estate; and he surprised me very much, my lord, byshowing me this list of documents, which, I am afraid, makes his successmore than probable, if there really are such proofs in existence." LordEtherington took the paper, and seemed to read with much attention,while Jekyl proceeded,--"He has written to procure these evidences fromthe person with whom they are deposited."
"We shall see what like they are when they arrive," said LordEtherington.--"They come by post, I suppose?"
"Yes; and may be immediately expected," answered Jekyl.
"Well--he is my brother on one side of the house, at least," said LordEtherington; "and I should not much like to have him lagged for forgery,which I suppose will be the end of his bolstering up an unsubstantialplea by fabricated documents--I should like to see these same papers hetalks of."
"But, my lord," replied Jekyl, "Tyrrel's allegation is, that you _have_seen them; and that copies, at least, were made out for you, and are inyour possession--such is his averment."
"He lies," answered Lord Etherington, "so far as he pretends I know ofsuch papers. I consider the whole story as froth--foam--fudge, orwhatever is most unsubstantial. It will prove such when the papersappear, if indeed they ever will appear. The whole is a bully frombeginning to end; and I wonder at thee, Jekyl, for being so thirstyafter syllabub, that you can swallow such whipt cream as that stuffamounts to. No, no--I know my advantage, and shall use it so as to makeall their hearts bleed. As for these papers, I recollect now that myagent talked of copies of some manuscripts having been sent him, but theoriginals were not then forthcoming; and I'll bet the long odds thatthey never are--mere fabrications--if I thought otherwise, would I nottell you?"
"Certainly, I hope you would, my lord," said Jekyl; "for I see no chanceof my being useful to you, unless I have the honour to enjoy yourconfidence."
"You do--you do, my friend," said Etherington, shaking him by the hand;"and since I must consider your present negotiation as failed, I mustdevise some other mode of settling with this mad and troublesomefellow."
"No violence, my lord," said Jekyl, once more, and with much emphasis.
"None--none--none, by Heaven!--Why, thou suspicious wretch, must Iswear, to quell your scruples?--On the contrary, it shall not be myfault, if we are not on decent terms."
"It would be infinitely to the advantage of both your characters if youcould bring that to pass," answered Jekyl; "and if you are serious inwishing it, I will endeavour to prepare Tyrrel. He comes to the Well orto the ordinary to-day, and it would be highly ridiculous to make ascene."
"True, true; find him out, my dear Jekyl, and persuade him how foolishit will be to bring our family quarrels out before strangers, and fortheir amusement. They shall see the two bears can meet withoutbiting.--Go--go--I will follow you instantly--go, and remember you havemy full and exclusive confidence.--Go, half-bred, startling fool!" hecontinued, the instant Jekyl had left the room, "with just spiritsenough to ensure your own ruin, by hurrying you into what you are not upto.--But he has character in the world--is brave--and one of those whosecountenance gives a fair face to a doubtful business. He is my creature,too--I have bought and paid for him, and it would be idle extravagancenot to make use of him--But as to confidence--no confidence, honest Hal,beyond that which cannot be avoided. If I wanted a confidant, here comesa better than thou by half--Solmes has no scruples--he will always giveme money's worth of zeal and secrecy _for_ money."
His lordship's valet at this moment entered the apartment, a grave,civil-looking man, past the middle age, with a sallow complexion, a darkthoughtful eye, slow, and sparing of speech, and sedulously attentive toall the duties of his situation.
"Solmes,"--said Lord Etherington, and then stopped short.
"My lord"--There was a pause; and when Lord Etherington had again said,"Solmes!" and his valet had answered, "Your lordship," there was asecond pause; until the Earl, as if recollecting himself, "Oh! Iremember what I wished to say--it was about the course of post here. Itis not very regular, I believe?"
"Regular enough, my lord, so far as concerns this place--the people inthe Aultoun do not get their letters in course."
"And why not, Solmes?" said his lordship.
"The old woman who keeps the little inn there, my lord, is on bad termswith the post-mistress--the one will not send
for the letters, and theother will not dispatch them to the village; so, betwixt them, they aresometimes lost or mislaid, or returned to the General Post-office."
"I wish that may not be the case of a packet which I expect in a fewdays--it should have been here already, or, perhaps, it may arrive inthe beginning of the week--it is from that formal ass, Trueman theQuaker, who addresses me by my Christian and family name, FrancisTyrrel. He is like enough to mistake the inn, too, and I should be sorryit fell into Monsieur Martigny's hands--I suppose you know he is in thatneighbourhood?--Look after its safety, Solmes--quietly, you understand;because people might put odd constructions, as if I were wanting aletter which was not my own."
"I understand perfectly, my lord," said Solmes, without exhibiting theslightest change in his sallow countenance, though entirelycomprehending the nature of the service required.
"And here is a note will pay for postage," said the Earl, putting intohis valet's hand a bank-bill of considerable value; "and you may keepthe balance for occasional expenses."
This was also fully understood; and Solmes, too politic and cautiouseven to look intelligence, or acknowledge gratitude, made only a bow ofacquiescence, put the note into his pocketbook, and assured his lordshipthat his commands should be punctually attended to.
"There goes the agent for my money, and for my purpose," said LordEtherington, exultingly; "no extorting of confidence, no demanding ofexplanations, no tearing off the veil with which a delicate manoeuvre is_gaze_--all excuses are received as _argent comptant_, provided only,that the best excuse of all, the _argent comptant_ itself, come torecommend them.--Yet I will trust no one--I will out, like a skilfulgeneral, and reconnoitre in person."
With this resolution, Lord Etherington put on his surtout and cap, andsallying from his apartments, took the way to the bookseller's shop,which also served as post-office and circulating library; and being inthe very centre of the parade, (for so is termed the broad terrace walkwhich leads from the inn to the Well,) it formed a convenientlounging-place for newsmongers and idlers of every description.
The Earl's appearance created, as usual, a sensation upon the publicpromenade; but whether it was the suggestion of his own alarmedconscience, or that there was some real cause for the remark, he couldnot help thinking his reception was of a more doubtful character thanusual. His fine figure and easy manners produced their usual effect, andall whom he spoke to received his attention as an honour; but noneoffered, as usual, to unite themselves to him, or to induce him to jointheir party. He seemed to be looked on rather as an object ofobservation and attention, than as making one of the company; and toescape from a distant gaze, which became rather embarrassing, he turnedinto the little emporium of news and literature.
He entered unobserved, just as Lady Penelope had finished reading someverses, and was commenting upon them with all the alacrity of a _femmesavante_, in possession of something which no one is to hear repeatedoftener than once.
"Copy--no indeed!" these were the snatches which reached LordEtherington's ear, from the group of which her ladyship formed thecentre--"honour bright--I must not betray poor Chatterly--besides, hislordship is my friend, and a person of rank, you know--so one wouldnot--You have not got the book, Mr. Pott?--you have not gotStatius?--you never have any thing one longs to see."
"Very sorry, my lady--quite out of copies at present--I expect some inmy next monthly parcel."
"Good lack, Mr. Pott, that is your never-failing answer," said LadyPenelope; "I believe if I were to ask you for the last new edition ofthe Alkoran, you would tell me it was coming down in your next monthlyparcel."
"Can't say, my lady, really," answered Mr. Pott; "have not seen the workadvertised yet; but I have no doubt, if it is likely to take, there willbe copies in my next monthly parcel."
"Mr. Pott's supplies are always in the _paullo post futurum_ tense,"said Mr. Chatterly, who was just entering the shop.
"Ah! Mr. Chatterly, are you there?" said Lady Penelope; "I lay my deathat your door--I cannot find this Thebaid, where Polynices and hisbrother"----
"Hush, my lady!--hush, for Heaven's sake!" said the poetical divine, andlooked towards Lord Etherington. Lady Penelope took the hint, and wassilent; but she had said enough to call up the traveller Touchwood, whoraised his head from the newspaper which he was studying, and, withoutaddressing his discourse to any one in particular, ejaculated, as if inscorn of Lady Penelope's geography--
"Polynices?--Polly Peachum.--There is no such place in the Thebais--theThebais is in Egypt--the mummies come from the Thebais--I have been inthe catacombs--caves very curious indeed--we were lapidated by thenatives--pebbled to some purpose, I give you my word. My janizarythrashed a whole village by way of retaliation."
While he was thus proceeding, Lord Etherington, as if in a listlessmood, was looking at the letters which stood ranged on thechimney-piece, and carrying on a languid dialogue with Mrs. Pott, whoseperson and manners were not ill adapted to her situation, for she wasgood-looking, and vastly fine and affected.
"Number of letters here which don't seem to find owners, Mrs. Pott?"
"Great number, indeed, my lord--it is a great vexation, for we areobliged to return them to the post-office, and the postage is chargedagainst us if they are lost; and how can one keep sight of them all?"
"Any love-letters among them, Mrs. Pott?" said his lordship, loweringhis tone.
"Oh, fie! my lord, how should I know?" answered Mrs. Pott, dropping hervoice to the same cadence.
"Oh! every one can tell a love-letter--that has ever received one, thatis--one knows them without opening--they are always folded hurriedly andsealed carefully--and the direction manifests a kind of tremulousagitation, that marks the state of the writer's nerves--thatnow,"--pointing with his switch to a letter upon the chimney-piece,"that _must_ be a love-letter."
"He, he, he!" giggled Mrs. Pott, "I beg pardon for laughing, mylord--but--he, he, he!--that is a letter from one Bindloose, the bankerbody, to the old woman Luckie Dods, as they call her, at thechange-house in the Aultoun."
"Depend upon it then, Mrs. Pott, that your neighbour, Mrs. Dods, has gota lover in Mr. Bindloose--unless the banker has been shaking hands withthe palsy. Why do you not forward her letter?--you are very cruel tokeep it in durance here."
"Me forward!" answered Mrs. Pott; "the cappernoity, old, girningalewife, may wait long enough or I forward it--She'll not loose theletters that come to her by the King's post, and she must go on trokingwi' the old carrier, as if there was no post-house in the neighbourhood.But the solicitor will be about wi' her one of these days."
"Oh! you are too cruel--you really should send the love-letter;consider, the older she is, the poor soul has the less time to lose."
But this was a topic on which Mrs. Pott understood no jesting. She waswell aware of our matron's inveteracy against her and her establishment,and she resented it as a placeman resents the efforts of a radical. Sheanswered something sulkily, "That they that loosed letters should haveletters; and neither Luckie Dods, nor any of her lodgers, should eversee the scrape of a pen from the St. Ronan's office, that they did notcall for and pay for."
It is probable that this declaration contained the essence of theinformation which Lord Etherington had designed to extract by hismomentary flirtation with Mrs. Pott; for when, retreating as it werefrom this sore subject, she asked him, in a pretty mincing tone, to tryhis skill in pointing out another love-letter, he only answeredcarelessly, "that in order to do that he must write her one;" andleaving his confidential station by her little throne, he loungedthrough the narrow shop, bowed slightly to Lady Penelope as he passed,and issued forth upon the parade, where he saw a spectacle which mightwell have appalled a man of less self-possession than himself.
Just as he left the shop, little Miss Digges entered almost breathless,with the emotion of impatience and of curiosity. "Oh la! my lady, whatdo you stay here for?--Mr. Tyrrel has just entered the other end of theparade this moment, and Lord Etherington is walking th
at way--they mustmeet each other.--O lord! come, come away, and see them meet!--I wonderif they'll speak--I hope they won't fight--Oh la! do come, my lady!"
"I must go with you, I find," said Lady Penelope; "it is the strangestthing, my love, that curiosity of yours about other folk's matters--Iwonder what your mamma will say to it."
"Oh! never mind mamma--nobody minds her--papa, nor nobody--Do come,dearest Lady Pen, or I will run away by myself.--Mr. Chatterly, do makeher come!"
"I must come, it seems," said Lady Penelope, "or I shall have a prettyaccount of you."
But, notwithstanding this rebuke, and forgetting, at the same time, thatpeople of quality ought never to seem in a hurry, Lady Penelope, withsuch of her satellites as she could hastily collect around her, trippedalong the parade with unusual haste, in sympathy, doubtless, with MissDigges's curiosity, as her ladyship declared she had none of her own.
Our friend, the traveller, had also caught up Miss Digges's information;and, breaking off abruptly an account of the Great Pyramid, which hadbeen naturally introduced by the mention of the Thebais, and echoing thefair alarmist's words, "hope they won't fight," he rushed upon theparade, and bustled along as hard as his sturdy supporters could carryhim. If the gravity of the traveller, and the delicacy of Lady Penelope,were surprised into unwonted haste from their eagerness to witness themeeting of Tyrrel and Lord Etherington, it may be well supposed thatthe decorum of the rest of the company was a slender restraint on theircuriosity, and that they hurried to be present at the expected scene,with the alacrity of gentlemen of the fancy hastening to a set-to.
In truth, though the meeting afforded little sport to those who expecteddire conclusions, it was, nevertheless, sufficiently interesting tothose spectators who are accustomed to read the language of suppressedpassion betraying itself at the moment when the parties are mostdesirous to conceal it.
Tyrrel had been followed by several loiterers so soon as he entered thepublic walk; and their number was now so much reinforced, that he sawhimself with pain and displeasure the centre of a sort of crowd whowatched his motions. Sir Bingo and Captain MacTurk were the first tobustle through it, and to address him with as much politeness as theycould command.
"Servant, sir," mumbled Sir Bingo, extending the right hand offellowship and reconciliation, ungloved. "Servant--sorry that anythingshould have happened between us--very sorry, on my word."
"No more need be said, sir," replied Tyrrel; "the whole is forgotten."
"Very handsome, indeed--quite the civil thing--hope to meet you often,sir."--And here the knight was silent.
Meanwhile, the more verbose Captain proceeded, "Och, py Cot, and it wasan awfu' mistake, and I could draw the penknife across my finger forhaving written the word.--By my sowl, and I scratched it till Iscratched a hole in the paper.--Och! that I should live to do an uncivilthing by a gentleman that had got himself hit in an honourable affair!But you should have written, my dear; for how the devil could we guessthat you were so well provided in quarrels, that you had to settle twoin one day!"
"I was hurt in an unexpected--an accidental manner, Captain MacTurk. Idid not write, because there was something, in my circumstances at themoment which required secrecy; but I was resolved, the instant Irecovered, to put myself to rights in your good opinion."
"Och! and you have done that," said the Captain, nodding sagaciously;"for Captain Jekyl, who is a fine child, has put us all up to yourhonourable conduct. They are pretty boys, these guardsmen, though theymay play a little fine sometimes, and think more of themselves thanperadventure they need for to do, in comparison with us of theline.--But he let us know all about it--and, though he said not a wordof a certain fine lord, with his footpad, and his hurt, and what not,yet we all knew how to lay that and that together.--And if the law wouldnot right you, and there were bad words between you, why should not twogentlemen right themselves? And as to your being kinsmen, why should notkinsmen behave to each other like men of honour? Only, some say you arefather's sons, and that _is_ something too near.--I had once thoughts ofcalling out my uncle Dougal myself, for there is no saying where theline should be drawn; but I thought, on the whole, there should be nofighting, as there is no marriage, within the forbidden degrees. As forfirst cousins--Wheugh!--that's all fair--fire away, Flanigan!--But hereis my lord, just upon us, like a stag of the first head, and the wholeherd behind him."
Tyrrel stepped forward a little before his officious companions, hiscomplexion rapidly changing into various shades, like that of one whoforces himself to approach and touch some animal or reptile for which heentertains that deep disgust and abhorrence which was anciently ascribedto constitutional antipathy. This appearance of constraint put uponhimself, with the changes which it produced on his face, was calculatedto prejudice him somewhat in the opinion of the spectators, whencompared with the steady, stately, yet, at the same time, easy demeanourof the Earl of Etherington, who was equal to any man in England in thedifficult art of putting a good countenance on a bad cause. He metTyrrel with an air as unembarrassed, as it was cold; and, while he paidthe courtesy of a formal and distant salutation, he said aloud, "Ipresume, Mr. Tyrrel de Martigny, that, since you have not thought fit toavoid this awkward meeting, you are disposed to remember our familyconnexion so far as to avoid making sport for the good company?"
"You have nothing to apprehend from my passion, Mr. Bulmer," repliedTyrrel, "if you can assure yourself against the consequences of yourown."
"I am glad of that," said the Earl, with the same composure, but sinkinghis voice so as only to be heard by Tyrrel; "and as we may not again ina hurry hold any communication together, I take the freedom to remindyou, that I sent you a proposal of accommodation by my friend, Mr.Jekyl."
"It was inadmissible," said Tyrrel--"altogether inadmissible--both fromreasons which you may guess, and others which it is needless todetail.--I sent you a proposition, think of it well."
"I will," replied Lord Etherington, "when I shall see it supported bythose alleged proofs, which I do not believe ever had existence."
"Your conscience holds another language from your tongue," said Tyrrel;"but I disclaim reproaches, and decline altercation. I will let CaptainJekyl know when I have received the papers, which, you say, areessential to your forming an opinion on my proposal.--In the meanwhile,do not think to deceive me. I am here for the very purpose of watchingand defeating your machinations; and, while I live, be assured theyshall never succeed.--And now, sir--or my lord--for the titles are inyour choice--fare you well."
"Hold a little," said Lord Etherington. "Since we are condemned to shockeach other's eyes, it is fit the good company should know what they areto think of us. You are a philosopher, and do not value the opinion ofthe public--a poor worldling like me is desirous to stand fair withit.--Gentlemen," he continued, raising his voice, "Mr. Winterblossom,Captain MacTurk, Mr.--what is his name, Jekyl?--Ay, Micklehen--You have,I believe, all some notion, that this gentleman, my near relation, andI, have some undecided claims on each other, which prevent our livingupon good terms. We do not mean, however, to disturb you with our familyquarrels; and, for my own part, while this gentleman, Mr. Tyrrel, orwhatever he may please to call himself, remains a member of thiscompany, my behaviour to him will be the same as to any stranger who mayhave that advantage.--Good morrow to you, sir--Good morning,gentlemen--we all meet at dinner, as usual.--Come, Jekyl."
So saying, he took Jekyl by the arm, and, gently extricating himselffrom the sort of crowd, walked off, leaving most of the companyprepossessed in his favour, by the ease and apparent reasonableness ofhis demeanour. Sounds of depreciation, forming themselves indistinctlyinto something like the words, "my eye, and Betty Martin," did issuefrom the neckcloth of Sir Bingo, but they were not much attended to; forit had not escaped the observation of the quicksighted gentry at theWell, that the Baronet's feelings towards the noble Earl were in theinverse ratio of those displayed by Lady Binks, and that, though ashamedto testify, or perhaps incapable of feeling, any anxious deg
ree ofjealousy, his temper had been for some time considerably upon the fret;a circumstance concerning which his fair moiety did not think itnecessary to give herself any concern.
Meanwhile, the Earl of Etherington walked onward with his confidant, inthe full triumph of successful genius.
"You see," he said, "Jekyl, that I can turn a corner with any man inEngland. It was a proper blunder of yours, that you must extricate thefellow from the mist which accident had flung around him--you might aswell have published the story of our rencontre at once, for every onecan guess it, by laying time, place, and circumstance together; butnever trouble your brains for a justification. You marked how I assumedmy natural superiority over him--towered up in the full pride oflegitimacy--silenced him even where the good company most do congregate.This will go to Mowbray through his agent, and will put him still madderon my alliance. I know he looks jealously on my flirtation with acertain lady--the dasher yonder--nothing makes a man sensible of thevalue of an opportunity, but the chance of losing it."
"I wish to Heaven you would give up thoughts of Miss Mowbray!" saidJekyl; "and take Tyrrel's offer, if he has the means of making it good."
"Ay, if--if. But I am quite sure he has no such rights as he pretendsto, and that his papers are all a deception.--Why do you put your eyeupon me as fixed as if you were searching out some wonderful secret?"
"I wish I knew what to think of your real _bona fide_ belief respectingthese documents," said Jekyl, not a little puzzled by the steady andunembarrassed air of his friend.
"Why, thou most suspicious of coxcombs," said Etherington, "what thedevil would you have me say to you?--Can I, as the lawyers say, prove anegative? or, is it not very possible, that such things may exist,though I have never seen or heard of them? All I can say is, that of allmen I am the most interested to deny the existence of such documents;and, therefore, certainly will not admit of it, unless I am compelled todo so by their being produced; nor then either, unless I am at the sametime well assured of their authenticity."
"I cannot blame you for your being hard of faith, my lord," said Jekyl;"but still I think if you can cut out with your earldom, and your noblehereditary estate, I would, in your case, pitch Nettlewood to thedevil."
"Yes, as you pitched your own patrimony, Jekyl; but you took care tohave the spending of it first.--What would _you_ give for such anopportunity of piecing your fortunes by marriage?--Confess the truth."
"I might be tempted, perhaps," said Jekyl, "in my present circumstances;but if they were what they have been, I should despise an estate thatwas to be held by petticoat tenure, especially when the lady of themanor was a sickly fantastic girl, that hated me, as this Miss Mowbrayhas the bad taste to hate you."
"Umph--sickly?--no, no, she is not sickly--she is as healthy as any onein constitution--and, on my word, I think her paleness only renders hermore interesting. The last time I saw her, I thought she might haverivalled one of Canova's finest statues."
"Yes; but she is indifferent to you--you do not love her," said Jekyl.
"She is any thing but indifferent to me," said the Earl; "she becomesdaily more interesting--for her dislike piques me; and besides, she hasthe insolence openly to defy and contemn me before her brother, and inthe eyes of all the world. I have a kind of loving hatred--a sort ofhating love for her; in short, thinking upon her is like trying to reada riddle, and makes one make quite as many blunders, and talk just asmuch nonsense. If ever I have the opportunity, I will make her pay forall her airs."
"What airs?" said Jekyl.
"Nay, the devil may describe them, for I cannot; but, for example--Sinceher brother has insisted on her receiving me, or I should rather say onher appearing when I visit Shaws-Castle, one would think her inventionhas toiled in discovering different ways of showing want of respect tome, and dislike to my presence. Instead of dressing herself as a ladyshould, especially on such occasions, she chooses some fantastic, orold-fashioned, or negligent bedizening, which makes her at least lookodd, if it cannot make her ridiculous--such triple tiaras ofvarious-coloured gauze on her head--such pieces of old tapestry, Ithink, instead of shawls and pelisses--such thick-soled shoes--suchtan-leather gloves--mercy upon us, Hal, the very sight of her equipmentwould drive mad a whole conclave of milliners! Then her postures are sostrange--she does so stoop and lollop, as the women call it, so crossher legs and square her arms--were the goddess of grace to look down onher, it would put her to flight for ever!"
"And you are willing to make this awkward, ill-dressed, unmannereddowdy, your Countess, Etherington; you, for whose critical eye half thetown dress themselves?" said Jekyl.
"It is all a trick, Hal--all an assumed character to get rid of me, todisgust me, to baffle me; but I am not to be had so easily. The brotheris driven to despair--he bites his nails, winks, coughs, makes signs,which she always takes up at cross-purpose.--I hope he beats her after Igo away; there would be a touch of consolation, were one but certain ofthat."
"A very charitable hope, truly, and your present feelings might lead thelady to judge what she may expect after wedlock. But," added Jekyl,"cannot you, so skilful in fathoming every mood of the female mind,divine some mode of engaging her in conversation?"
"Conversation!" replied the Earl; "why, ever since the shock of my firstappearance was surmounted, she has contrived to vote me a nonentity; andthat she may annihilate me completely, she has chosen, of alloccupations, that of working a stocking! From what cursed oldantediluvian, who lived before the invention of spinning-jennies, shelearned this craft, Heaven only knows; but there she sits, with her workpinned to her knee--not the pretty taper silken fabric, with whichJeannette of Amiens coquetted, while Tristram Shandy was observing herprogress; but a huge worsted bag, designed for some flat-footed oldpauper, with heels like an elephant--And there she squats, counting allthe stitches as she works, and refusing to speak, or listen, or look up,under pretence that it disturbs her calculation!"
"An elegant occupation, truly, and I wonder it does not work a cure uponher noble admirer," said Jekyl.
"Confound her--no--she shall not trick me. And then amid thisaffectation of vulgar stolidity, there break out such sparkles ofexultation, when she thinks she has succeeded in baffling her brother,and in plaguing me, that, by my faith, Hal, I could not tell, were it atmy option, whether to kiss or to cuff her."
"You are determined to go on with this strange affair, then?" saidJekyl.
"On--on--on, my boy!--Clara and Nettlewood for ever!" answered the Earl."Besides this brother of hers provokes me too--he does not do for mehalf what he might--what he ought to do. He stands on points of honour,forsooth, this broken-down horse-jockey, who swallowed my two thousandpounds as a pointer would a pat of butter.--I can see he wishes to playfast and loose--has some suspicions, like you, Hal, upon the strength ofmy right to my father's titles and estate; as if, with the tithe of theNettlewood property alone, I would not be too good a match for one ofhis beggarly family. He must scheme, forsooth, this half-baked Scotchcake!--He must hold off and on, and be cautious, and wait the result,and try conclusions with me, this lump of oatmeal dough!--I am muchtempted to make an example of him in the course of my proceedings."
"Why, this is vengeance horrible and dire," said Jekyl; "yet I give upthe brother to you; he is a conceited coxcomb, and deserves a lesson.But I would fain intercede for the sister."
"We shall see"--replied the Earl; and then suddenly, "I tell you what itis, Hal; her caprices are so diverting, that I sometimes think out ofmere contradiction, I almost love her; at least, if she would but clearold scores, and forget one unlucky prank of mine, it should be her ownfault if I did not make her a happy woman."
FOOTNOTE:
[II-8] "Rob as a footpad."