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The Way We Live Now

Page 67

by Anthony Trollope


  CHAPTER LXV.

  MISS LONGESTAFFE WRITES HOME.

  Lady Monogram, when she left Madame Melmotte's house after thatentertainment of Imperial Majesty which had been to her of so verylittle avail, was not in a good humour. Sir Damask, who had himselfaffected to laugh at the whole thing, but who had been in truth asanxious as his wife to see the Emperor in private society, put herladyship and Miss Longestaffe into the carriage without a word, andrushed off to his club in disgust. The affair from beginning to end,including the final failure, had been his wife's doing. He had beenmade to work like a slave, and had been taken against his will toMelmotte's house, and had seen no Emperor and shaken hands with noPrince! "They may fight it out between them now like the Kilkennycats." That was his idea as he closed the carriage-door on the twoladies,--thinking that if a larger remnant were left of one cat thanof the other that larger remnant would belong to his wife.

  "What a horrid affair!" said Lady Monogram. "Did anybody ever seeanything so vulgar?" This was at any rate unreasonable, for whatevervulgarity there may have been, Lady Monogram had seen none of it.

  "I don't know why you were so late," said Georgiana.

  "Late! Why it's not yet twelve. I don't suppose it was eleven when wegot into the Square. Anywhere else it would have been early."

  "You knew they did not mean to stay long. It was particularly saidso. I really think it was your own fault."

  "My own fault. Yes;--I don't doubt that. I know it was my own fault,my dear, to have had anything to do with it. And now I have got topay for it."

  "What do you mean by paying for it, Julia?"

  "You know what I mean very well. Is your friend going to do us thehonour of coming to us to-morrow night?" She could not have declaredin plainer language how very high she thought the price to be whichshe had consented to give for those ineffective tickets.

  "If you mean Mr. Brehgert, he is coming. You desired me to ask him,and I did so."

  "Desired you! The truth is, Georgiana, when people get into differentsets, they'd better stay where they are. It's no good trying to mixthings." Lady Monogram was so angry that she could not control hertongue.

  Miss Longestaffe was ready to tear herself with indignation. That sheshould have been brought to hear insolence such as this from JuliaTriplex,--she, the daughter of Adolphus Longestaffe of Caversham andLady Pomona; she, who was considered to have lived in quite the firstLondon circle! But she could hardly get hold of fit words for areply. She was almost in tears, and was yet anxious to fight ratherthan weep. But she was in her friend's carriage, and was being takento her friend's house, was to be entertained by her friend all thenext day, and was to see her lover among her friend's guests. "Iwonder what has made you so ill-natured," she said at last. "Youdidn't use to be like that."

  "It's no good abusing me," said Lady Monogram. "Here we are, andI suppose we had better get out,--unless you want the carriage totake you anywhere else." Then Lady Monogram got out and marched intothe house, and taking a candle went direct to her own room. MissLongestaffe followed slowly to her own chamber, and having halfundressed herself, dismissed her maid and prepared to write to hermother.

  The letter to her mother must be written. Mr. Brehgert had twiceproposed that he should, in the usual way, go to Mr. Longestaffe,who had been backwards and forwards in London, and was there at thepresent moment. Of course it was proper that Mr. Brehgert should seeher father,--but, as she had told him, she preferred that he shouldpostpone his visit for a day or two. She was now agonized by manydoubts. Those few words about "various sets" and the "mixing ofthings" had stabbed her to the very heart,--as had been intended. Mr.Brehgert was rich. That was a certainty. But she already repented ofwhat she had done. If it were necessary that she should really godown into another and a much lower world, a world composed altogetherof Brehgerts, Melmottes, and Cohenlupes, would it avail her much tobe the mistress of a gorgeous house? She had known, and understood,and had revelled in the exclusiveness of county position. Cavershamhad been dull, and there had always been there a dearth of youngmen of the proper sort; but it had been a place to talk of, and tofeel satisfied with as a home to be acknowledged before the world.Her mother was dull, and her father pompous and often cross; butthey were in the right set,--miles removed from the Brehgerts andMelmottes,--until her father himself had suggested to her that sheshould go to the house in Grosvenor Square. She would write oneletter to-night; but there was a question in her mind whether theletter should be written to her mother telling her the horridtruth,--or to Mr. Brehgert begging that the match should be brokenoff. I think she would have decided on the latter had it not beenthat so many people had already heard of the match. The Monogramsknew it, and had of course talked far and wide. The Melmottes knewit, and she was aware that Lord Nidderdale had heard it. It wasalready so far known that it was sure to be public before the end ofthe season. Each morning lately she had feared that a letter fromhome would call upon her to explain the meaning of some frightfulrumours reaching Caversham, or that her father would come to her andwith horror on his face demand to know whether it was indeed truethat she had given her sanction to so abominable a report.

  And there were other troubles. She had just spoken to Madame Melmottethis evening, having met her late hostess as she entered thedrawing-room, and had felt from the manner of her reception thatshe was not wanted back again. She had told her father that she wasgoing to transfer herself to the Monograms for a time, not mentioningthe proposed duration of her visit, and Mr. Longestaffe, in hisambiguous way, had expressed himself glad that she was leaving theMelmottes. She did not think that she could go back to GrosvenorSquare, although Mr. Brehgert desired it. Since the expression ofMr. Brehgert's wishes she had perceived that ill-will had grown upbetween her father and Mr. Melmotte. She must return to Caversham.They could not refuse to take her in, though she had betrothedherself to a Jew!

  If she decided that the story should be told to her mother it wouldbe easier to tell it by letter than by spoken words, face to face.But then if she wrote the letter there would be no retreat,--and howshould she face her family after such a declaration? She had alwaysgiven herself credit for courage, and now she wondered at her owncowardice. Even Lady Monogram, her old friend Julia Triplex, hadtrampled upon her. Was it not the business of her life, in thesedays, to do the best she could for herself, and would she allowpaltry considerations as to the feelings of others to stand in herway and become bugbears to affright her? Who sent her to Melmotte'shouse? Was it not her own father? Then she sat herself square at thetable, and wrote to her mother,--as follows,--dating her letter forthe following morning:--

  Hill Street, 9th July, 187--.

  MY DEAR MAMMA,

  I am afraid you will be very much astonished by this letter, and perhaps disappointed. I have engaged myself to Mr. Brehgert, a member of a very wealthy firm in the City, called Todd, Brehgert, and Goldsheiner. I may as well tell you the worst at once. Mr. Brehgert is a Jew.

  This last word she wrote very rapidly, but largely, determined thatthere should be no lack of courage apparent in the letter.

  He is a very wealthy man, and his business is about banking and what he calls finance. I understand they are among the most leading people in the City. He lives at present at a very handsome house at Fulham. I don't know that I ever saw a place more beautifully fitted up. I have said nothing to papa, nor has he; but he says he will be willing to satisfy papa perfectly as to settlements. He has offered to have a house in London if I like,--and also to keep the villa at Fulham or else to have a place somewhere in the country. Or I may have the villa at Fulham and a house in the country. No man can be more generous than he is. He has been married before, and has a family, and now I think I have told you all.

  I suppose you and papa will be very much dissatisfied. I hope papa won't refuse his consent. It can do no good. I am not going to remain as I am now all my life, and there is no use waiting any longer. It was papa who
made me go to the Melmottes, who are not nearly so well placed as Mr. Brehgert. Everybody knows that Madame Melmotte is a Jewess, and nobody knows what Mr. Melmotte is. It is no good going on with the old thing when everything seems to be upset and at sixes and sevens. If papa has got to be so poor that he is obliged to let the house in town, one must of course expect to be different from what we were.

  I hope you won't mind having me back the day after to-morrow,--that is to-morrow, Wednesday. There is a party here to-night, and Mr. Brehgert is coming. But I can't stay longer with Julia, who doesn't make herself nice, and I do not at all want to go back to the Melmottes. I fancy that there is something wrong between papa and Mr. Melmotte.

  Send the carriage to meet me by the 2.30 train from London,--and pray, mamma, don't scold when you see me, or have hysterics, or anything of that sort. Of course it isn't all nice, but things have got so that they never will be nice again. I shall tell Mr. Brehgert to go to papa on Wednesday.

  Your affectionate daughter,

  G.

  When the morning came she desired the servant to take the letter awayand have it posted, so that the temptation to stop it might no longerbe in her way.

  About one o'clock on that day Mr. Longestaffe called at LadyMonogram's. The two ladies had breakfasted up-stairs, and had onlyjust met in the drawing-room when he came in. Georgiana trembled atfirst, but soon perceived that her father had as yet heard nothing ofMr. Brehgert. She immediately told him that she proposed returninghome on the following day. "I am sick of the Melmottes," she said.

  "And so am I," said Mr. Longestaffe, with a serious countenance.

  "We should have been delighted to have had Georgiana to stay withus a little longer," said Lady Monogram; "but we have but the onespare bedroom, and another friend is coming." Georgiana, who knewboth these statements to be false, declared that she wouldn'tthink of such a thing. "We have a few friends coming to-night, Mr.Longestaffe, and I hope you'll come in and see Georgiana." Mr.Longestaffe hummed and hawed and muttered something, as old gentlemenalways do when they are asked to go out to parties after dinner."Mr. Brehgert will be here," continued Lady Monogram with a peculiarsmile.

  "Mr. who?" The name was not at first familiar to Mr. Longestaffe.

  "Mr. Brehgert." Lady Monogram looked at her friend. "I hope I'm notrevealing any secret."

  "I don't understand anything about it," said Mr. Longestaffe."Georgiana, who is Mr. Brehgert?" He had understood very much. Hehad been quite certain from Lady Monogram's manner and words, andalso from his daughter's face, that Mr. Brehgert was mentioned as anaccepted lover. Lady Monogram had meant that it should be so, andany father would have understood her tone. As she said afterwards toSir Damask, she was not going to have that Jew there at her houseas Georgiana Longestaffe's accepted lover without Mr. Longestaffe'sknowledge.

  "My dear Georgiana," she said, "I supposed your father knew all aboutit."

  "I know nothing. Georgiana, I hate a mystery. I insist upon knowing.Who is Mr. Brehgert, Lady Monogram?"

  "Mr. Brehgert is a--very wealthy gentleman. That is all I know ofhim. Perhaps, Georgiana, you will be glad to be alone with yourfather." And Lady Monogram left the room.

  Was there ever cruelty equal to this! But now the poor girl wasforced to speak,--though she could not speak as boldly as she hadwritten. "Papa, I wrote to mamma this morning, and Mr. Brehgert wasto come to you to-morrow."

  "Do you mean that you are engaged to marry him?"

  "Yes, papa."

  "What Mr. Brehgert is he?"

  "He is a merchant."

  "You can't mean the fat Jew whom I've met with Mr. Melmotte;--a manold enough to be your father!" The poor girl's condition now wascertainly lamentable. The fat Jew, old enough to be her father, wasthe very man she did mean. She thought that she would try to brazenit out with her father. But at the present moment she had been socowed by the manner in which the subject had been introduced thatshe did not know how to begin to be bold. She only looked at him asthough imploring him to spare her. "Is the man a Jew?" demanded Mr.Longestaffe, with as much thunder as he knew how to throw into hisvoice.

  "Yes, papa," she said.

  "He is that fat man?"

  "Yes, papa."

  "And nearly as old as I am?"

  "No, papa,--not nearly as old as you are. He is fifty."

  "And a Jew?" He again asked the horrid question, and again threw inthe thunder. On this occasion she condescended to make no furtherreply. "If you do, you shall do it as an alien from my house. Icertainly will never see him. Tell him not to come to me, for Icertainly will not speak to him. You are degraded and disgraced; butyou shall not degrade and disgrace me and your mother and sister."

  "It was you, papa, who told me to go to the Melmottes."

  "That is not true. I wanted you to stay at Caversham. A Jew! an oldfat Jew! Heavens and earth! that it should be possible that youshould think of it! You;--my daughter,--that used to take such pridein yourself! Have you written to your mother?"

  "I have."

  "It will kill her. It will simply kill her. And you are going hometo-morrow?"

  "I wrote to say so."

  "And there you must remain. I suppose I had better see the man andexplain to him that it is utterly impossible. Heavens on earth;--aJew! An old fat Jew! My daughter! I will take you down home myselfto-morrow. What have I done that I should be punished by my childrenin this way?" The poor man had had rather a stormy interview withDolly that morning. "You had better leave this house to-day, and cometo my hotel in Jermyn Street."

  "Oh, papa, I can't do that."

  "Why can't you do it? You can do it, and you shall do it. I will nothave you see him again. I will see him. If you do not promise me tocome, I will send for Lady Monogram and tell her that I will notpermit you to meet Mr. Brehgert at her house. I do wonder at her. AJew! An old fat Jew!" Mr. Longestaffe, putting up both his hands,walked about the room in despair.

  She did consent, knowing that her father and Lady Monogram betweenthem would be too strong for her. She had her things packed up, andin the course of the afternoon allowed herself to be carried away.She said one word to Lady Monogram before she went. "Tell him that Iwas called away suddenly."

  "I will, my dear. I thought your papa would not like it." The poorgirl had not spirit sufficient to upbraid her friend; nor did it suither now to acerbate an enemy. For the moment, at least, she mustyield to everybody and everything. She spent a lonely evening withher father in a dull sitting-room in the hotel, hardly speaking orspoken to, and the following day she was taken down to Caversham. Shebelieved that her father had seen Mr. Brehgert on the morning of thatday;--but he said no word to her, nor did she ask him any question.

  That was on the day after Lady Monogram's party. Early in theevening, just as the gentlemen were coming up from the dining-room,Mr. Brehgert, apparelled with much elegance, made his appearance.Lady Monogram received him with a sweet smile. "Miss Longestaffe,"she said, "has left me and gone to her father."

  "Oh, indeed."

  "Yes," said Lady Monogram, bowing her head, and then attending toother persons as they arrived. Nor did she condescend to speakanother word to Mr. Brehgert, or to introduce him even to herhusband. He stood for about ten minutes inside the drawing-room,leaning against the wall, and then he departed. No one had spoken aword to him. But he was an even-tempered, good-humoured man. WhenMiss Longestaffe was his wife things would no doubt be different;--orelse she would probably change her acquaintance.

 

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