Phineas Redux

by Anthony Trollope

  CHAPTER LXXIV.

  AT MATCHING.

  For about a week in the August heat of a hot summer, Phineas attendedParliament with fair average punctuality, and then prepared for hisjourney down to Matching Priory. During that week he spoke no wordto any one as to his past tribulation, and answered all allusions toit simply by a smile. He had determined to live exactly as thoughthere had been no such episode in his life as that trial at the OldBailey, and in most respects he did so. During this week he dined atthe club, and called at Madame Goesler's house in Park Lane,--not,however, finding the lady at home. Once, and once only, did he breakdown. On the Wednesday evening he met Barrington Erle, and was askedby him to go to The Universe. At the moment he became very pale, buthe at once said that he would go. Had Erle carried him off in a cabthe adventure might have been successful; but as they walked, andas they went together through Clarges Street and Bolton Row andCurzon Street, and as the scenes which had been so frequently and sographically described in Court appeared before him one after another,his heart gave way, and he couldn't do it. "I know I'm a fool,Barrington; but if you don't mind I'll go home. Don't mind me, butjust go on." Then he turned and walked home, passing through thepassage in which the murder had been committed.

  "I brought him as far as the next street," Barrington Erle said toone of their friends at the club, "but I couldn't get him in. I doubtif he'll ever be here again."

  It was past six o'clock in the evening when he reached MatchingPriory. The Duchess had especially assured him that a brougham shouldbe waiting for him at the nearest station, and on arriving there hefound that he had the brougham to himself. He had thought a greatdeal about it, and had endeavoured to make his calculations. He knewthat Madame Goesler would be at Matching, and it would be necessarythat he should say something of his thankfulness at their firstmeeting. But how should he meet her,--and in what way should hegreet her when they met? Would any arrangement be made, or would allbe left to chance? Should he go at once to his own chamber,--so asto show himself first when dressed for dinner, or should he allowhimself to be taken into any of the morning rooms in which the otherguests would be congregated? He had certainly not sufficientlyconsidered the character of the Duchess when he imagined that shewould allow these things to arrange themselves. She was one of thosewomen whose minds were always engaged on such matters, and who areable to see how things will go. It must not be asserted of herthat her delicacy was untainted, or her taste perfect; but she wasclever,--discreet in the midst of indiscretions,--thoughtful, andgood-natured. She had considered it all, arranged it all, and givenher orders with accuracy. When Phineas entered the hall,--thebrougham with the luggage having been taken round to some backdoor,--he was at once ushered by a silent man in black into thelittle sitting-room on the ground floor in which the old Dukeused to take delight. Here he found two ladies,--but only twoladies,--waiting to receive him. The Duchess came forward to welcomehim, while Madame Goesler remained in the background, with composedface,--as though she by no means expected his arrival and he hadchanced to come upon them as she was standing by the window. He wasthinking of her much more than of her companion, though he knewalso how much he owed to the kindness of the Duchess. But what shehad done for him had come from caprice, whereas the other had beeninstigated and guided by affection. He understood all that, and musthave shown his feeling on his countenance. "Yes, there she is," saidthe Duchess, laughing. She had already told him that he was welcometo Matching, and had spoken some short word of congratulation at hissafe deliverance from his troubles. "If ever one friend was gratefulto another, you should be grateful to her, Mr. Finn." He did notspeak, but walking across the room to the window by which MarieGoesler stood, took her right hand in his, and passing his left armround her waist, kissed her first on one cheek and then on the other.The blood flew to her face and suffused her forehead, but she did notspeak, or resist him or make any effort to escape from his embrace.As for him, he had no thought of it at all. He had made no plan. Noidea of kissing her when they should meet had occurred to him tillthe moment came. "Excellently well done," said the Duchess, stilllaughing with silent pleasant laughter. "And now tell us how you are,after all your troubles."

  "Yes, there she is."]

  He remained with them for half an hour, till the ladies went todress, when he was handed over to some groom of the chambers to showhim his room. "The Duke ought to be here to welcome you, of course,"said the Duchess; "but you know official matters too well to expecta President of the Board of Trade to do his domestic duties. We dineat eight; five minutes before that time he will begin adding up hislast row of figures for the day. You never added up rows of figures,I think. You only managed colonies." So they parted till dinner, andPhineas remembered how very little had been spoken by Madame Goesler,and how few of the words which he had spoken had been addressed toher. She had sat silent, smiling, radiant, very beautiful as he hadthought, but contented to listen to her friend the Duchess. She, theDuchess, had asked questions of all sorts, and made many statements;and he had found that with those two women he could speak withoutdiscomfort, almost with pleasure, on subjects which he could not bearto have touched by men. "Of course you knew all along who killed thepoor man," the Duchess had said. "We did;--did we not, Marie?--justas well as if we had seen it. She was quite sure that he had got outof the house and back into it, and that he must have had a key. Soshe started off to Prague to find the key; and she found it. And wewere quite sure too about the coat;--weren't we. That poor blunderingLord Fawn couldn't explain himself, but we knew that the coat he sawwas quite different from any coat you would wear in such weather.We discussed it all over so often;--every point of it. Poor LordFawn! They say it has made quite an old man of him. And as for thosepolicemen who didn't find the life-preserver; I only think thatsomething ought to be done to them."

  "I hope that nothing will ever be done to anybody, Duchess."

  "Not to the Reverend Mr. Emilius;--poor dear Lady Eustace's Mr.Emilius? I do think that you ought to desire that an end shouldbe put to his enterprising career! I'm sure I do." This was saidwhile the attempt was still being made to trace the purchase of thebludgeon in Paris. "We've got Sir Gregory Grogram here on purpose tomeet you, and you must fraternise with him immediately, to show thatyou bear no grudge."

  "He only did his duty."

  "Exactly;--though I think he was an addle-pated old ass not to seethe thing more clearly. As you'll be coming into the Governmentbefore long, we thought that things had better be made straightbetween you and Sir Gregory. I wonder how it was that nobody butwomen did see it clearly? Look at that delightful woman, Mrs. Bunce.You must bring Mrs. Bunce to me some day,--or take me to her."

  "Lord Chiltern saw it clearly enough," said Phineas.

  "My dear Mr. Finn, Lord Chiltern is the best fellow in the world, buthe has only one idea. He was quite sure of your innocence becauseyou ride to hounds. If it had been found possible to accuse poorMr. Fothergill, he would have been as certain that Mr. Fothergillcommitted the murder, because Mr. Fothergill thinks more of hisshooting. However, Lord Chiltern is to be here in a day or two, andI mean to go absolutely down on my knees to him,--and all for yoursake. If foxes can be had, he shall have foxes. We must go and dressnow, Mr. Finn, and I'll ring for somebody to show you your room."

  Phineas, as soon as he was alone, thought, not of what the Duchesshad said, but of the manner in which he had greeted his friend,Madame Goesler. As he remembered what he had done, he also blushed.Had she been angry with him, and intended to show her anger by hersilence? And why had he done it? What had he meant? He was quite surethat he would not have given those kisses had he and Madame Goeslerbeen alone in the room together. The Duchess had applauded him,--butyet he thought that he regretted it. There had been matters betweenhim and Marie Goesler of which he was quite sure that the Duchessknew nothing.

  When he went downstairs he found a crowd in the drawing-room, fromamong whom the Duke came forward to welcome him. "I am particularlyhappy to see you
at Matching," said the Duke. "I wish we had shootingto offer you, but we are too far south for the grouse. That wasa bitter passage of arms the other day, wasn't it? I am fond ofbitterness in debate myself, but I do regret the roughness of theHouse of Commons. I must confess that I do." The Duke did not say aword about the trial, and the Duke's guests followed their host'sexample.

  The house was full of people, most of whom had before been knownto Phineas, and many of whom had been asked specially to meet him.Lord and Lady Cantrip were there, and Mr. Monk, and Sir Gregory hisaccuser, and the Home Secretary, Sir Harry Coldfoot, with his wife.Sir Harry had at one time been very keen about hanging our hero,and was now of course hot with reactionary zeal. To all those whohad been in any way concerned in the prosecution, the accidents bywhich Phineas had been enabled to escape had been almost as fortunateas to Phineas himself. Sir Gregory himself quite felt that had heprosecuted an innocent and very popular young Member of Parliament tothe death, he could never afterwards have hoped to wear his ermine incomfort. Barrington Erle was there, of course, intending, however,to return to the duties of his office on the following day,--and ourold friend Laurence Fitzgibbon with a newly-married wife, a ladypossessing a reputed fifty thousand pounds, by which it was hopedthat the member for Mayo might be placed steadily upon his legsfor ever. And Adelaide Palliser was there also,--the Duke's firstcousin,--on whose behalf the Duchess was anxious to be more thanordinarily good-natured. Mr. Maule, Adelaide's rejected lover, haddined on one occasion with the Duke and Duchess in London. Therehad been nothing remarkable at the dinner, and he had not at allunderstood why he had been asked. But when he took his leave theDuchess had told him that she would hope to see him at Matching. "Weexpect a friend of yours to be with us," the Duchess had said. He hadafterwards received a written invitation and had accepted it; but hewas not to reach Matching till the day after that on which Phineasarrived. Adelaide had been told of his coming only on this morning,and had been much flurried by the news.

  "But we have quarrelled," she said. "Then the best thing you can dois to make it up again, my dear," said the Duchess. Miss Palliser wasundoubtedly of that opinion herself, but she hardly believed that soterrible an evil as a quarrel with her lover could be composed by sorough a remedy as this. The Duchess, who had become used to all thedisturbing excitements of life, and who didn't pay so much respect assome do to the niceties of a young lady's feelings, thought that itwould be only necessary to bring the young people together again. Ifshe could do that, and provide them with an income, of course theywould marry. On the present occasion Phineas was told off to takeMiss Palliser down to dinner. "You saw the Chilterns before they lefttown, I know," she said.

  "Oh, yes. I am constantly in Portman Square."

  "Of course. Lady Laura has gone down to Scotland;--has she not;--andall alone?"

  "She is alone now, I believe."

  "How dreadful! I do not know any one that I pity so much as I do her.I was in the house with her some time, and she gave me the idea ofbeing the most unhappy woman I had ever met with. Don't you thinkthat she is very unhappy?"

  "She has had very much to make her so," said Phineas. "She wasobliged to leave her husband because of the gloom of hisinsanity;--and now she is a widow."

  "I don't suppose she ever really--cared for him; did she?" Thequestion was no sooner asked than the poor girl remembered thewhole story which she had heard some time back,--the rumour of thehusband's jealousy and of the wife's love, and she became as red asfire, and unable to help herself. She could think of no word to say,and confessed her confusion by her sudden silence.

  Phineas saw it all, and did his best for her. "I am sure she caredfor him," he said, "though I do not think it was a well-assortedmarriage. They had different ideas about religion, I fancy. So yousaw the hunting in the Brake country to the end? How is our oldfriend, Mr. Spooner?"

  "Don't talk of him, Mr. Finn."

  "I rather like Mr. Spooner;--and as for hunting the country, I don'tthink Chiltern could get on without him. What a capital fellow yourcousin the Duke is."

  "I hardly know him."

  "He is such a gentleman;--and, at the same time, the most abstractand the most concrete man that I know."

  "Abstract and concrete!"

  "You are bound to use adjectives of that sort now, Miss Palliser, ifyou mean to be anybody in conversation."

  "But how is my cousin concrete? He is always abstracted when I speakto him, I know."

  "No Englishman whom I have met is so broadly and intuitively andunceremoniously imbued with the simplicity of the character of agentleman. He could no more lie than he could eat grass."

  "Is that abstract or concrete?"

  "That's abstract. And I know no one who is so capable of throwinghimself into one matter for the sake of accomplishing that one thingat a time. That's concrete." And so the red colour faded away frompoor Adelaide's face, and the unpleasantness was removed.

  "What do you think of Laurence's wife?" Erle said to him late in theevening.

  "I have only just seen her. The money is there, I suppose."

  "The money is there, I believe; but then it will have to remainthere. He can't touch it. There's about L2,000 a-year, which willhave to go back to her family unless they have children."

  "I suppose she's--forty?"

  "Well; yes, or perhaps forty-five. You were locked up at the time,poor fellow,--and had other things to think of; but all the interestwe had for anything beyond you through May and June was devoted toLaurence and his prospects. It was off and on, and on and off, and hewas in a most wretched condition. At last she wouldn't consent unlessshe was to be asked here."

  "And who managed it?"

  "Laurence came and told it all to the Duchess, and she gave him theinvitation at once."

  "Who told you?"

  "Not the Duchess,--nor yet Laurence. So it may be untrue, youknow;--but I believe it. He did ask me whether he'd have to standanother election at his marriage. He has been going in and out ofoffice so often, and always going back to the Co. Mayo at the expenseof half a year's salary, that his mind had got confused, and hedidn't quite know what did and what did not vacate his seat. Wemust all come to it sooner or later, I suppose, but the question iswhether we could do better than an annuity of L2,000 a year on thelife of the lady. Office isn't very permanent, but one has not toattend the House above six months a year, while you can't get awayfrom a wife much above a week at a time. It has crippled him inappearance very much, I think."

  "A man always looks changed when he's married."

  "I hope, Mr. Finn, that you owe me no grudge," said Sir Gregory, theAttorney-General.

  "Not in the least; why should I?"

  "It was a very painful duty that I had to perform,--the most painfulthat ever befel me. I had no alternative but to do it, of course, andto do it in the hope of reaching the truth. But a counsel for theprosecution must always appear to the accused and his friends likea hound running down his game, and anxious for blood. The habitualand almost necessary acrimony of the defence creates acrimony in theattack. If you were accustomed as I am to criminal courts you wouldobserve this constantly. A gentleman gets up and declares in perfectfaith that he is simply anxious to lay before the jury such evidenceas has been placed in his hands. And he opens his case in thatspirit. Then his witnesses are cross-examined with the affectedincredulity and assumed indignation which the defending counsel isalmost bound to use on behalf of his client, and he finds himselfgradually imbued with pugnacity. He becomes strenuous, energetic, andperhaps eager for what must after all be regarded as success, and atlast he fights for a verdict rather than for the truth."

  "The judge, I suppose, ought to put all that right?"

  "So he does;--and it comes right. Our criminal practice does not sinon the side of severity. But a barrister employed on the prosecutionshould keep himself free from that personal desire for a verdictwhich must animate those engaged on the defence."

  "Then I suppose you wanted to--hang me, Sir Gre
gory."

  "Certainly not. I wanted the truth. But you in your position musthave regarded me as a bloodhound."

  "I did not. As far as I can analyse my own feelings, I entertainedanger only against those who, though they knew me well, thought thatI was guilty."

  "You will allow me, at any rate, to shake hands with you," said SirGregory, "and to assure you that I should have lived a broken-heartedman if the truth had been known too late. As it is I tremble andshake in my shoes as I walk about and think of what might have beendone." Then Phineas gave his hand to Sir Gregory, and from that timeforth was inclined to think well of Sir Gregory.

  Throughout the whole evening he was unable to speak to MadameGoesler, but to the other people around him he found himself talkingquite at his ease, as though nothing peculiar had happened to him.Almost everybody, except the Duke, made some slight allusion to hisadventure, and he, in spite of his resolution to the contrary, foundhimself driven to talk of it. It had seemed quite natural that SirGregory,--who had in truth been eager for his condemnation, thinkinghim to have been guilty,--should come to him and make peace with himby telling him of the nature of the work that had been imposed uponhim;--and when Sir Harry Coldfoot assured him that never in his lifehad his mind been relieved of so heavy a weight as when he receivedthe information about the key,--that also was natural. A few days agohe had thought that these allusions would kill him. The prospect ofthem had kept him a prisoner in his lodgings; but now he smiled andchatted, and was quiet and at ease.

  "Good-night, Mr. Finn," the Duchess said to him, "I know the peoplehave been boring you."

  "Not in the least."

  "I saw Sir Gregory at it, and I can guess what Sir Gregory wastalking about."

  "I like Sir Gregory, Duchess."

  "That shows a very Christian disposition on your part. And then therewas Sir Harry. I understood it all, but I could not hinder it. But ithad to be done, hadn't it?--And now there will be an end of it."

  "Everybody has treated me very well," said Phineas, almost in tears."Some people have been so kind to me that I cannot understand why itshould have been so."

  "Because some people are your very excellent good friends. We,--thatis, Marie and I, you know,--thought it would be the best thing foryou to come down and get through it all here. We could see that youweren't driven too hard. By the bye, you have hardly seen her,--haveyou?"

  "Hardly, since I was upstairs with your Grace."

  "My Grace will manage better for you to-morrow. I didn't like to tellyou to take her out to dinner, because it would have looked a littleparticular after her very remarkable journey to Prague. If you ain'tgrateful you must be a wretch."

  "But I am grateful."

  "Well; we shall see. Good-night. You'll find a lot of men going tosmoke somewhere, I don't doubt."