The Way We Live Now

by Anthony Trollope

  CHAPTER XLIII.

  THE CITY ROAD.

  The statement made by Ruby as to her connection with Mrs. Pipkin wasquite true. Ruby's father had married a Pipkin whose brother had diedleaving a widow behind him at Islington. The old man at Sheep's Acrefarm had greatly resented this marriage, had never spoken to hisdaughter-in-law,--or to his son after the marriage, and had steeledhimself against the whole Pipkin race. When he undertook the chargeof Ruby he had made it matter of agreement that she should haveno intercourse with the Pipkins. This agreement Ruby had broken,corresponding on the sly with her uncle's widow at Islington. Whentherefore she ran away from Suffolk she did the best she couldwith herself in going to her aunt's house. Mrs. Pipkin was a poorwoman, and could not offer a permanent home to Ruby; but she wasgood-natured, and came to terms. Ruby was to be allowed to stay atany rate for a month, and was to work in the house for her bread. Butshe made it a part of her bargain that she should be allowed to goout occasionally. Mrs. Pipkin immediately asked after a lover. "I'mall right," said Ruby. If the lover was what he ought to be, had henot better come and see her? This was Mrs. Pipkin's suggestion. Mrs.Pipkin thought that scandal might in this way be avoided. "That's asit may be, by-and-by," said Ruby. Then she told all the story of JohnCrumb:--how she hated John Crumb; how resolved she was that nothingshould make her marry John Crumb. And she gave her own account ofthat night on which John Crumb and Mr. Mixet ate their supper at thefarm, and of the manner in which her grandfather had treated herbecause she would not have John Crumb. Mrs. Pipkin was a respectablewoman in her way, always preferring respectable lodgers if she couldget them;--but bound to live. She gave Ruby very good advice. Ofcourse if she was "dead-set" against John Crumb, that was one thing!But then there was nothing a young woman should look to so much asa decent house over her head,--and victuals. "What's all the lovein the world, Ruby, if a man can't do for you?" Ruby declared thatshe knew somebody who could do for her, and could do very well forher. She knew what she was about, and wasn't going to be put offit. Mrs. Pipkin's morals were good wearing morals, but she was notstrait-laced. If Ruby chose to manage in her own way about her lovershe must. Mrs. Pipkin had an idea that young women in these days didhave, and would have, and must have more liberty than was allowedwhen she was young. The world was being changed very fast. Mrs.Pipkin knew that as well as others. And therefore when Ruby went tothe theatre once and again,--by herself as far as Mrs. Pipkin knew,but probably in company with her lover,--and did not get home tillpast midnight, Mrs. Pipkin said very little about it, attributingsuch novel circumstances to the altered condition of her country.She had not been allowed to go to the theatre with a young man whenshe had been a girl,--but that had been in the earlier days of QueenVictoria, fifteen years ago, before the new dispensation had come.Ruby had never yet told the name of her lover to Mrs. Pipkin, havinganswered all inquiries by saying that she was all right. Sir Felix'sname had never even been mentioned in Islington till Paul Montaguehad mentioned it. She had been managing her own affairs after herown fashion,--not altogether with satisfaction, but still withoutinterruption; but now she knew that interference would come. Mr.Montague had found her out, and had told her grandfather's landlord.The Squire would be after her, and then John Crumb would come,accompanied of course by Mr. Mixet,--and after that, as she said toherself on retiring to the couch which she shared with two littlePipkins, "the fat would be in the fire."

  "Who do you think was at our place yesterday?" said Ruby one eveningto her lover. They were sitting together at a music-hall,--halfmusic-hall, half theatre, which pleasantly combined the allurementsof the gin-palace, the theatre, and the ball-room, trenching hard onthose of other places. Sir Felix was smoking, dressed, as he himselfcalled it, "incognito," with a Tom-and-Jerry hat, and a blue silkcravat, and a green coat. Ruby thought it was charming. Felixentertained an idea that were his West End friends to see him in thisattire they would not know him. He was smoking, and had before him aglass of hot brandy and water, which was common to himself and Ruby.He was enjoying life. Poor Ruby! She was half-ashamed of herself,half-frightened, and yet supported by a feeling that it was a grandthing to have got rid of restraints, and be able to be with her youngman. Why not? The Miss Longestaffes were allowed to sit and dance andwalk about with their young men,--when they had any. Why was she tobe given up to a great mass of stupid dust like John Crumb, withoutseeing anything of the world? But yet as she sat sipping her lover'sbrandy and water between eleven and twelve at the music-hall inthe City Road, she was not altogether comfortable. She saw thingswhich she did not like to see. And she heard things which she didnot like to hear. And her lover, though he was beautiful,--oh, sobeautiful!--was not all that a lover should be. She was still alittle afraid of him, and did not dare as yet to ask him for thepromise which she expected him to make to her. Her mind was setupon--marriage, but the word had hardly passed between them. To havehis arm round her waist was heaven to her! Could it be possible thathe and John Crumb were of the same order of human beings? But how wasthis to go on? Even Mrs. Pipkin made disagreeable allusions, and shecould not live always with Mrs. Pipkin, coming out at nights to drinkbrandy and water and hear music with Sir Felix Carbury. She was gladtherefore to take the first opportunity of telling her lover thatsomething was going to happen. "Who do you suppose was at our placeyesterday?"

  Sir Felix changed colour, thinking of Marie Melmotte, thinking thatperhaps some emissary from Marie Melmotte had been there; perhapsDidon herself. He was amusing himself during these last evenings ofhis in London; but the business of his life was about to take himto New York. That project was still being elaborated. He had had aninterview with Didon, and nothing was wanting but the money. Didonhad heard of the funds which had been intrusted by him to Melmotte,and had been very urgent with him to recover them. Therefore, thoughhis body was not unfrequently present, late in the night, at the CityRoad Music-Hall, his mind was ever in Grosvenor Square. "Who was it,Ruby?"

  "A friend of the Squire's, a Mr. Montague. I used to see him about inBungay and Beccles."

  "Paul Montague!"

  "Do you know him, Felix?"

  "Well;--rather. He's a member of our club, and I see him constantlyin the city--and I know him at home."

  "Is he nice?"

  "Well;--that depends on what you call nice. He's a prig of a fellow."

  "He's got a lady friend where I live."

  "The devil he has!" Sir Felix of course had heard of Roger Carbury'ssuit to his sister, and of the opposition to this suit on the part ofHetta, which was supposed to have been occasioned by her preferencefor Paul Montague. "Who is she, Ruby?"

  "Well;--she's a Mrs. Hurtle. Such a stunning woman! Aunt says she'san American. She's got lots of money."

  "Is Montague going to marry her?"

  "Oh dear yes. It's all arranged. Mr. Montague comes quite regularto see her;--not so regular as he ought, though. When gentlemen arefixed as they're to be married, they never are regular afterwards.I wonder whether it'll be the same with you?"

  "Wasn't John Crumb regular, Ruby?"

  "Bother John Crumb! That wasn't none of my doings. Oh, he'd beenregular enough, if I'd let him; he'd been like clockwork,--only theslowest clock out. But Mr. Montague has been and told the Squire ashe saw me. He told me so himself. The Squire's coming about JohnCrumb. I know that. What am I to tell him, Felix?"

  "Tell him to mind his own business. He can't do anything to you."

  "No;--he can't do nothing. I ain't done nothing wrong, and he can'tsend for the police to have me took back to Sheep's Acre. But he cantalk,--and he can look. I ain't one of those, Felix, as don't mindabout their characters,--so don't you think it. Shall I tell him asI'm with you?"

  "Gracious goodness, no! What would you say that for?"

  "I didn't know. I must say something."

  "Tell him you're nothing to him."

  "But aunt will be letting on about my being out late o'nights; I knowshe will. And who am I with? He'll be asking that."

 
"Your aunt does not know?"

  "No;--I've told nobody yet. But it won't do to go on like that, youknow,--will it? You don't want it to go on always like that;--doyou?"

  "It's very jolly, I think."

  "It ain't jolly for me. Of course, Felix, I like to be with you.That's jolly. But I have to mind them brats all the day, and to bedoing the bedrooms. And that's not the worst of it."

  "What is the worst of it?"

  "I'm pretty nigh ashamed of myself. Yes, I am." And now Ruby burstout into tears. "Because I wouldn't have John Crumb, I didn't mean tobe a bad girl. Nor yet I won't. But what'll I do, if everybody turnsagain me? Aunt won't go on for ever in this way. She said last nightthat--"

  "Bother what she says!" Felix was not at all anxious to hear whataunt Pipkin might have to say upon such an occasion.

  "She's right too. Of course she knows there's somebody. She ain'tsuch a fool as to think that I'm out at these hours to sing psalmswith a lot of young women. She says that whoever it is ought to speakout his mind. There;--that's what she says. And she's right. A girlhas to mind herself, though she's ever so fond of a young man."

  Sir Felix sucked his cigar and then took a long drink of brandy andwater. Having emptied the beaker before him, he rapped for the waiterand called for another. He intended to avoid the necessity of makingany direct reply to Ruby's importunities. He was going to New Yorkvery shortly, and looked on his journey thither as an horizon in hisfuture beyond which it was unnecessary to speculate as to any fartherdistance. He had not troubled himself to think how it might be withRuby when he was gone. He had not even considered whether he would orwould not tell her that he was going, before he started. It was nothis fault that she had come up to London. She was an "awfully jollygirl," and he liked the feeling of the intrigue better perhaps thanthe girl herself. But he assured himself that he wasn't going to givehimself any "d----d trouble." The idea of John Crumb coming up toLondon in his wrath had never occurred to him,--or he would probablyhave hurried on his journey to New York instead of delaying it, as hewas doing now. "Let's go in and have a dance," he said.

  Ruby was very fond of dancing,--perhaps liked it better than anythingin the world. It was heaven to her to be spinning round the big roomwith her lover's arm tight round her waist, with one hand in his andher other hanging over his back. She loved the music, and loved themotion. Her ear was good, and her strength was great, and she neverlacked breath. She could spin along and dance a whole room down, andfeel at the time that the world could have nothing to give betterworth having than that;--and such moments were too precious to belost. She went and danced, resolving as she did so that she wouldhave some answer to her question before she left her lover on thatnight.

  "And now I must go," she said at last. "You'll see me as far as theAngel, won't you?" Of course he was ready to see her as far as theAngel. "What am I to say to the Squire?"

  "Say nothing."

  "And what am I to say to aunt?"

  "Say to her? Just say what you have said all along."

  "I've said nothing all along,--just to oblige you, Felix. I must saysomething. A girl has got herself to mind. What have you got to sayto me, Felix?"

  He was silent for about a minute, meditating his answer. "If youbother me I shall cut it, you know."

  "Cut it!"

  "Yes;--cut it. Can't you wait till I am ready to say something?"

  "Waiting will be the ruin o' me, if I wait much longer. Where am I togo, if Mrs. Pipkin won't have me no more?"

  "I'll find a place for you."

  "You find a place! No; that won't do. I've told you all that before.I'd sooner go into service, or--"

  "Go back to John Crumb."

  "John Crumb has more respect for me nor you. He'd make me his wifeto-morrow, and only be too happy."

  "I didn't tell you to come away from him," said Sir Felix.

  "Yes, you did. You told me as I was to come up to London when I sawyou at Sheepstone Beeches;--didn't you? And you told me you lovedme;--didn't you? And that if I wanted anything you'd get it done forme;--didn't you?"

  "So I will. What do you want? I can give you a couple of sovereigns,if that's what it is."

  "No it isn't;--and I won't have your money. I'd sooner work myfingers off. I want you to say whether you mean to marry me. There!"

  As to the additional lie which Sir Felix might now have told, thatwould have been nothing to him. He was going to New York, and wouldbe out of the way of any trouble; and he thought that lies of thatkind to young women never went for anything. Young women, he thought,didn't believe them, but liked to be able to believe afterwardsthat they had been deceived. It wasn't the lie that stuck in histhroat, but the fact that he was a baronet. It was in his estimation"confounded impudence" on the part of Ruby Ruggles to ask to be hiswife. He did not care for the lie, but he did not like to seem tolower himself by telling such a lie as that at her dictation. "Marry,Ruby! No, I don't ever mean to marry. It's the greatest bore out. Iknow a trick worth two of that."

  She stopped in the street and looked at him. This was a state ofthings of which she had never dreamed. She could imagine that aman should wish to put it off, but that he should have the face todeclare to his young woman that he never meant to marry at all, was athing that she could not understand. What business had such a man togo after any young woman? "And what do you mean that I'm to do, SirFelix?" she said.

  "Just go easy, and not make yourself a bother."

  "Not make myself a bother! Oh, but I will; I will. I'm to be carryingon with you, and nothing to come of it; but for you to tell me thatyou don't mean to marry, never at all! Never?"

  "Don't you see lots of old bachelors about, Ruby?"

  "Of course I does. There's the Squire. But he don't come asking girlsto keep him company."

  "That's more than you know, Ruby."

  "If he did he'd marry her out of hand,--because he's a gentleman.That's what he is, every inch of him. He never said a word to agirl,--not to do her any harm, I'm sure," and Ruby began to cry. "Youmustn't come no further now, and I'll never see you again--never!I think you're the falsest young man, and the basest, and thelowest-minded that I ever heard tell of. I know there are them asdon't keep their words. Things turn up, and they can't. Or they getsto like others better; or there ain't nothing to live on. But for ayoung man to come after a young woman, and then say, right out, as henever means to marry at all, is the lowest-spirited fellow that everwas. I never read of such a one in none of the books. No, I won't.You go your way, and I'll go mine." In her passion she was as goodas her word, and escaped from him, running all the way to her aunt'sdoor. There was in her mind a feeling of anger against the man, whichshe did not herself understand, in that he would incur no risk on herbehalf. He would not even make a lover's easy promise, in order thatthe present hour might be made pleasant. Ruby let herself into heraunt's house, and cried herself to sleep with a child on each side ofher.

  On the next day Roger called. She had begged Mrs. Pipkin to attendthe door, and had asked her to declare, should any gentleman ask forRuby Ruggles, that Ruby Ruggles was out. Mrs. Pipkin had not refusedto do so; but, having heard sufficient of Roger Carbury to imaginethe cause which might possibly bring him to the house, and havingmade up her mind that Ruby's present condition of independence wasequally unfavourable to the lodging-house and to Ruby herself, shedetermined that the Squire, if he did come, should see the younglady. When therefore Ruby was called into the little back parlour andfound Roger Carbury there, she thought that she had been caught in atrap. She had been very cross all the morning. Though in her rage shehad been able on the previous evening to dismiss her titled lover,and to imply that she never meant to see him again, now, when theremembrance of the loss came upon her amidst her daily work,--whenshe could no longer console herself in her drudgery by thinking ofthe beautiful things that were in store for her, and by flatteringherself that though at this moment she was little better than a maidof all work in a lodging-house, the time was soon coming in whichs
he would bloom forth as a baronet's bride,--now in her solitude shealmost regretted the precipitancy of her own conduct. Could it bethat she would never see him again;--that she would dance no morein that gilded bright saloon? And might it not be possible that shehad pressed him too hard? A baronet of course would not like to bebrought to book, as she could bring to book such a one as John Crumb.But yet,--that he should have said never;--that he would never marry!Looking at it in any light, she was very unhappy, and this coming ofthe Squire did not serve to cure her misery.

  Roger was very kind to her, taking her by the hand, and biddingher sit down, and telling her how glad he was to find that she wascomfortably settled with her aunt. "We were all alarmed, of course,when you went away without telling anybody where you were going."

  "Grandfather 'd been that cruel to me that I couldn't tell him."

  "He wanted you to keep your word to an old friend of yours."

  "To pull me all about by the hairs of my head wasn't the way tomake a girl keep her word;--was it, Mr. Carbury? That's what he did,then;--and Sally Hockett, who is there, heard it. I've been good tograndfather, whatever I may have been to John Crumb; and he shouldn'thave treated me like that. No girl 'd like to be pulled about theroom by the hairs of her head, and she with her things all off, justgetting into bed."

  The Squire had no answer to make to this. That old Ruggles should bea violent brute under the influence of gin and water did not surprisehim. And the girl, when driven away from her home by such usage, hadnot done amiss in coming to her aunt. But Roger had already hearda few words from Mrs. Pipkin as to Ruby's late hours, had heardalso that there was a lover, and knew very well who that lover was.He also was quite familiar with John Crumb's state of mind. JohnCrumb was a gallant, loving fellow who might be induced to forgiveeverything, if Ruby would only go back to him; but would certainlypersevere, after some slow fashion of his own, and "see the matterout," as he would say himself, if she did not go back. "As you foundyourself obliged to run away," said Roger, "I'm glad that you shouldbe here; but you don't mean to stay here always?"

  "I don't know," said Ruby.

  "You must think of your future life. You don't want to be always youraunt's maid."

  "Oh dear, no."

  "It would be very odd if you did, when you may be the wife of such aman as Mr. Crumb."

  "Oh, Mr. Crumb! Everybody is going on about Mr. Crumb. I don't likeMr. Crumb, and I never will like him."

  "Now look here, Ruby; I have come to speak to you very seriously, andI expect you to hear me. Nobody can make you marry Mr. Crumb, unlessyou please."

  "Nobody can't, of course, sir."

  "But I fear you have given him up for somebody else, who certainlywon't marry you, and who can only mean to ruin you."

  "Nobody won't ruin me," said Ruby. "A girl has to look to herself,and I mean to look to myself."

  "I'm glad to hear you say so, but being out at night with such a oneas Sir Felix Carbury is not looking to yourself. That means going tothe devil head foremost."

  "I ain't a going to the devil," said Ruby, sobbing and blushing.

  "But you will, if you put yourself into the hands of that young man.He's as bad as bad can be. He's my own cousin, and yet I'm obligedto tell you so. He has no more idea of marrying you than I have; butwere he to marry you, he could not support you. He is ruined himself,and would ruin any young woman who trusted him. I'm almost old enoughto be your father, and in all my experience I never came across sovile a young man as he is. He would ruin you and cast you from himwithout a pang of remorse. He has no heart in his bosom;--none." Rubyhad now given way altogether, and was sobbing with her apron to hereyes in one corner of the room. "That's what Sir Felix Carbury is,"said the Squire, standing up so that he might speak with the moreenergy, and talk her down more thoroughly. "And if I understand itrightly," he continued, "it is for a vile thing such as he, that youhave left a man who is as much above him in character, as the sun isabove the earth. You think little of John Crumb because he does notwear a fine coat."

  "I don't care about any man's coat," said Ruby; "but John hasn't evera word to say, was it ever so."

  "I don't care about any man's coat."]

  "Words to say! what do words matter? He loves you. He loves you afterthat fashion that he wants to make you happy and respectable, not tomake you a bye-word and a disgrace." Ruby struggled hard to make someopposition to the suggestion, but found herself to be incapable ofspeech at the moment. "He thinks more of you than of himself, andwould give you all that he has. What would that other man give you?If you were once married to John Crumb, would any one then pull youby the hairs of your head? Would there be any want then, or anydisgrace?"

  "There ain't no disgrace, Mr. Carbury."

  "No disgrace in going about at midnight with such a one as FelixCarbury? You are not a fool, and you know that it is disgraceful. Ifyou are not unfit to be an honest man's wife, go back and beg thatman's pardon."

  "John Crumb's pardon! No!"

  "Oh, Ruby, if you knew how highly I respect that man, and how lowlyI think of the other; how I look on the one as a noble fellow, andregard the other as dust beneath my feet, you would perhaps changeyour mind a little."

  Her mind was being changed. His words did have their effect, thoughthe poor girl struggled against the conviction that was borne in uponher. She had never expected to hear any one call John Crumb noble.But she had never respected any one more highly than Squire Carbury,and he said that John Crumb was noble. Amidst all her misery andtrouble she still told herself that it was but a dusty, mealy,--andalso a dumb nobility.

  "I'll tell you what will take place," continued Roger. "Mr. Crumbwon't put up with this you know."

  "He can't do nothing to me, sir."

  "That's true enough. Unless it be to take you in his arms and pressyou to his heart, he wants to do nothing to you. Do you think he'dinjure you if he could? You don't know what a man's love reallymeans, Ruby. But he could do something to somebody else. How do youthink it would be with Felix Carbury, if they two were in a roomtogether and nobody else by?"

  "John's mortial strong, Mr. Carbury."

  "If two men have equal pluck, strength isn't much needed. One is abrave man, and the other--a coward. Which do you think is which?"

  "He's your own cousin, and I don't know why you should say everythingagain him."

  "You know I'm telling you the truth. You know it as well as I domyself;--and you're throwing yourself away, and throwing the man wholoves you over,--for such a fellow as that! Go back to him, Ruby, andbeg his pardon."

  "I never will;--never."

  "I've spoken to Mrs. Pipkin, and while you're here she will see thatyou don't keep such hours any longer. You tell me that you're notdisgraced, and yet you are out at midnight with a young blackguardlike that! I've said what I've got to say, and I'm going away. ButI'll let your grandfather know."

  "Grandfather don't want me no more."

  "And I'll come again. If you want money to go home, I will let youhave it. Take my advice at least in this;--do not see Sir FelixCarbury any more." Then he took his leave. If he had failed toimpress her with admiration for John Crumb, he had certainly beenefficacious in lessening that which she had entertained for SirFelix.