CHAPTER XIV.
WAYS AND MEANS.
On the following day Bertram returned to town. Now that he was asuccessful lover, and about to take upon himself at some future timethe responsible duties of a married man, he became very energeticin the chambers of Mr. Die. He could hardly spare a day during thewinter for running down to Littlebath, and whenever he did do so, hetook Coke upon Lyttleton down with him. Nor did he work in vain. Henever had worked in vain. Facility of acquiring the special knowledgewhich he sought had ever been one of his gifts. Mr. Die was alreadybeginning to prophesy great things; and his friend Harcourt, whooccasionally wanted his society, declared that he overdid hislabours.
Down at Littlebath they did not quite approve of all this industry.Caroline naturally thought that more of her lover's hours should bedevoted to her; and Miss Baker, who looked on Mr. Bertram's money ascertainly destined either for Caroline or George, considered that hewas wasting his time with his fusty books. She had not dared to saymuch to George on this subject, and he had not taken very well thelittle that she did say. She could not tell him that Caroline was Mr.Bertram's granddaughter, but she did remind him that he himself wasMr. Bertram's nephew, and hinted that though a profession might bevery eligible for a young man of such brilliant prospects, it couldhardly be necessary for him absolutely to make a slave of himself. Tothis George had answered, somewhat curtly, that he had no reason toexpect anything further from his uncle; and that as he looked forwardto maintain himself and his wife by his successful exertions as abarrister, it was absolutely necessary that he should at present workvery hard. "I have lost a whole year," he said to Miss Baker; "andnothing but very sharp work can atone for that."
He never once saw his uncle after his first visit to Littlebathtill the next year was far advanced. He felt no desire to see him,and certainly no wish to be the bearer of tidings as to his ownengagement. Miss Baker had undertaken to do this, and might do so ifshe so pleased. As far as he was concerned, he had no idea of askingpermission to marry from any one.
"Why should I ask him," he had once said to Miss Baker. "I shallmarry just the same, whether he permits it or whether he does not."
This was grievous to the ladies at Littlebath. Very little had beensaid about money between George and Miss Baker up to this time;nothing had been said between George and Caroline; but the two ladiesknew that there could be no marriage till there was an adequateincome. The income of the gentleman when stripped of his fellowshipwould be two hundred pounds a year; that of the lady was about thesame. Now Caroline Waddington had no intention whatever of marryingon four hundred pounds a year; and it must be more than three yearsat the very least before all this profound study would result ingolden fees.
Now that the matter was so far settled--settled as Bertram consideredit--he did tell Harcourt of his love. "Harcourt," said he, one day."I have a piece of news which perhaps I ought to tell you. I amengaged to be married."
"Are you?" said Harcourt, rather too coolly to satisfy his friend'sexpectation.
"I am not joking."
"Who ever accused you of joking since you took to the law and Mr.Die? I did not give you credit for a joke; not even for so bad a oneas that would be. Shall I congratulate or condole with you?"
"Either or neither. Perhaps you had better wait till you see thelady."
"And when is it to be?"
"Well; in this coming summer, I suppose. That is my wish, at least."
"And your wish of course will be law. I presume then that I may bejustified in surmising that the lady has some considerable fortune?"
"No, indeed, she has not. Something she has got; about as much,perhaps, as myself. We shall have bread to eat."
"And occasionally cheese," said Harcourt, who could not understandthat any rising man could marry early, unless in doing so he acquiredmoney.
"And occasionally cheese," repeated Bertram. "This is a state ofthings that would not suit your book, I know."
"Not exactly," said Harcourt. "But men have very different ideasabout women. I could do, and have done, and am doing with a smallincome myself; but a wife is in some respects like a horse. If agentleman does keep a horse, it should be well groomed."
"You could not endure a woman who was not always got up in satin andvelvet?"
"Not satin and velvet exactly. I do not require a curiously-mountedsaddle for my horse. But I don't think I should have much enjoymentwith a cheap wife. I like cold mutton and candle-ends myself verywell, but I do not love feminine economies. Family washing-bills keptat the lowest, a maid-of-all-work with an allowance in lieu of beer,and a dark morning gown for household work, would not, if I knowmyself, add fuel to the ardour of my conjugal affection. I love womendearly; I like them to be near me; but then I like them to be nice.When a woman is nasty, she is very nasty."
Bertram said in his heart that Harcourt was a beast, an animalwithout a soul, a creature capable of no other joys than those of amaterial nature; but he kept this opinion at the present moment tohimself. Not, however, that he was averse to express himself openlybefore his friend. He often gave Harcourt to understand that hesuspected him of being deficient in the article of a soul; andHarcourt would take the reproach with perfect good-humour, remarking,perhaps, that he might probably find it possible to get on decentlywithout one.
"Is the lady's name a secret?" he asked.
"No; not to you, at least. I believe it is generally consideredadvisable that these sort of things should not be talked about quiteopenly till the consummation of them is nigh at hand. I have no wishfor any mystery in the matter. Her name is Caroline Waddington."
"What! a daughter of Sir Augustus?"
"No; nothing to Sir Augustus, that I have heard."
"She must, then, be one of the General's family?"
"Not that either. Her only relative, that I know, is a Miss Baker."
"Miss Baker!" said Harcourt; and the tone of his voice was notencouraging.
"Yes, Miss Baker," said Bertram; and the tone of his voice was hardlyconciliatory.
"Oh--ah--yes. I don't exactly think I know her. Miss Baker!"
"It would be odd if you did, for she lives at Littlebath, and hardlyever comes to town. When she does, she stays down at Hadley with myuncle."
"Oh--h! That's a horse of another colour. I beg your pardon entirely,my dear fellow. Why did you not tell me at first that this is a matchof your uncle's making?"
"My uncle's making! It is not a match of my uncle's making."
"Well, well; one that he approves. I hardly gave you credit for somuch prudence. That will be as good as having everything settledexactly as you could wish it."
"You are giving me a great deal too much credit," said Bertram,laughing. "My uncle knows nothing about my marriage, and I have notthe slightest idea of consulting him. I should think it mean to doso, considering everything."
"Mean to consult the only relative you have who can do anything foryou?"
"Yes. He has told me over and over again that I have no claim on him;and, therefore, I will make none."
Bertram had said to himself frequently that he cared nothing forthis man's judgment in such matters; but, nevertheless, after whathad passed, he did desire that Harcourt should see Caroline. Hewas aware, judging rather from Harcourt's tone than from his words,that that keen-sighted friend of his had but a low opinion of MissWaddington; that he thought that she was some ordinary, intriguinggirl, who had been baiting a hook for a husband, after the mannerwhich scandal states to be so common among the Littlebathians; andBertram longed, therefore, to surprise his eyes and astound hisintellect with a view of her charms and a near knowledge of herattributes. Nothing should be said of her beauty, and the blaze of itshould fall upon him altogether unprepared.
George was right in his feelings in this respect. Harcourt had formeda very false idea of Miss Waddington;--had led himself to imaginethat she was second-rate and unattractive. In the first place, he hadhis own ideas about Littlebath, and conceived that it was not theplace
in which the highest beauty of England should be looked for;and in the next place, he knew George Bertram, and regarded him as aman peculiarly liable to such dangers as these.
"You must come down with me to Littlebath. When will you give me aday?"
Harcourt demurred, as he did not wish to be called on imperiously topraise a woman of whom he knew he should disapprove, and endeavouredto excuse himself from the journey. But Bertram persisted, and atlast it was settled that he would go down.
This did not happen till towards the end of winter. Miss Baker had,as she promised, seen Mr. Bertram in the meantime, and the answerreturned from the Hadley oracle had, like most oracle-answers, beenneither favourable nor unfavourable. Mr. Bertram had expressed nogreat anger at the tale of love that was told him; but neither hadhe expressed any gratification. "Well," he had said, "it is odd thatthey should have come together; very odd. He is a clever young man,and I dare say may do well." Miss Baker had then ventured, but in avery modest way, to ask him his opinion as to the sufficiency of theyoung people's income. "They must judge of that themselves," he hadsaid, rather sharply. "But I suppose they have no idea of marrying asyet. They mean to wait, don't they, till he begins his profession?"To this Miss Baker had made no answer, and nothing further had beensaid at that meeting.
Early in March, Miss Baker had again seen the great man. She had thenventured to explain to him that George was working very hard.
"Ah! you have his word for that, I suppose," said the uncle; "but ifso, believe me he will get on at such work as that quicker without awife than he will with one."
But at this interview Miss Baker did ask him plainly, as had beenagreed beforehand between her and her niece that she should do,whether he would on their marriage make any increase to hisgranddaughter's fortune.
"She has a liberal, ladylike provision," said he.
"But they will not have enough to live on," said Miss Baker.
"They will have a third more, Mary, than I had when I married youraunt. And yet I saved money on my income."
"But remember how they have been brought up, sir."
"If they will be fine ladies and gentlemen, they must take thepenalties of being so. Fine ladies and gentlemen cannot marry ata moment's notice, as do ploughboys and milkmaids. If they cannotlive on a limited income, they must wait." He did, however, on thisoccasion go so far as to say, that if they would wait for anothertwelvemonth, and that if he were then living, he would add twothousand pounds to Caroline's fortune. As to George, he had done asmuch as he intended to do--certainly for the present. "George likeshis own way," said the old man, "and as far as I am concerned, heshall have it. It will be well for him to make his own career in theworld; he will be happier so than in spending my money."
On this occasion Miss Baker was permitted to tell Caroline all thecircumstances of her parentage and grandparentage. The same storymight now be told to George. But they were both to be cautionedthat their relative's displeasure would be incurred by any uselessrepetition of it. "And, Mary," said he, "do not let them misleadthemselves. Do not let them marry with the idea that by so doing theywill inherit between them my money. I wish them both to understandthat my views are altogether different."
Miss Baker, when she returned to Littlebath, could not think that shehad been successful in her mission; and Caroline immediately declaredthat any idea of a marriage for that year, or even for the next, mustnow be altogether out of the question. She was very much startled athearing that Mr. Bertram was her mother's father, but did not pretendto any suddenly intense affection for him. "If that be so," said she,coldly, "if George and I are his only near connections, and if hedoes not disapprove of our marriage, he ought to give us an income onwhich we can live." It is astonishing how different are the views ofgrandfathers and grandchildren on such matters!
Unfortunately there was no unanimity of opinion on this matter,either between the lovers themselves or between them and their aunt.George was of opinion that they should marry immediately on theirpresent income, and trust to Providence and his exertions for afuture increase. For one year he would have the income of hisfellowship; in two years and a half he would be called; and in themeantime, he could make something by the Magazines. If Caroline wasnot afraid, he was not.
But Caroline was very much afraid. It had by no means formed part ofthe project of her life to live in London as a married woman on fourhundred pounds a year. "She knew," she said to Miss Baker, "whateffect that would have on her husband's affections." She seemed,indeed, to share some of Harcourt's opinions on the subject, and tohave a dislike to feminine economies, or at least to the use of themunder the surveillance of a man's eye. As far as she could see, themarriage must be postponed indefinitely--at any rate, till afterGeorge should have been called to the bar.
Miss Baker's voice was for a middle course. She suggested that theyshould wait for Mr. Bertram's two thousand pounds and then marry.They would then have an income increased to some extent. Theywould also show a deference to the old man's views, which wouldundoubtedly--so Miss Baker thought--have ultimate results of a mostbeneficial nature. "After all," as she remarked more than once to herniece, "who else is there?"
But the young people were quite as obstinate as the old man. Georgewould make no concession whatever to his uncle. He was ready to marryon love and a small income, and he expected Caroline to show an equalwarmth. Caroline would by no means alter her views, or risk themisery of an ill-provided nursery. It had been the one great resolveof her life, that she would not be a poor man's wife. "She was readyto wait," she said. "If she could trust and wait, surely George mightdo so. A man, with all the world around him, encountered neither themisery nor the risk in waiting that fell to a girl's lot."
The disputes incidental to these different opinions did not ever takeplace between George and Caroline. He, from a feeling of chivalry,abstained from discussing money matters with her; and she, from afeeling of prudence, was equally silent with him. Poor Miss Baker wasthe medium for it all. George of course would press with a lover'sardour for an early day; and Caroline would of course say that animmediate marriage was, she found, impracticable. And then each wouldrefer the other to Miss Baker.
Things went on in this way till the middle of May. Sometimes Georgewas almost angry, and wrote letters that were somewhat savage;sometimes Caroline would be haughty, and then she too could writeletters which would tell her mind in good plain set terms. But theywere not near enough, or sufficiently often with each other, toquarrel.
So matters went on till May; and then, on one fine May-day, Harcourtand George together took their places in the train for Littlebath.
"I wonder what you'll think of her?" said George. "Of course you'lltell the truth?"
"Oh, of course," said Harcourt, with his mind duly made up to praiseher.
"You haven't the pluck to find fault with her," said George; "youwould be afraid not to call her handsome, even if you thought her asugly as Hecate."
"Exactly," said Harcourt; "and therefore these little experimentarytrips are never of any use."
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