The Bertrams

by Anthony Trollope

  CHAPTER II.

  HE TRIES HIS HAND AGAIN.

  Miss Todd shook hands with him as he went, and then, putting on herbonnet and cloak, got into her fly.

  She felt some little triumph at her heart in thinking that Sir Lionelhad wished to marry her. Had she not, she would hardly have been awoman. But by far her strongest feeling was one of dislike to him fornot having wished to marry Miss Baker. She had watched the gallantsoldier closely for the last year, and well knew how tenderly he hadbeen used to squeeze Miss Baker's hand. He had squeezed her own handtoo; but what was that? She made others the subject of jokes, andwas prepared to be joked upon herself. Whatever Oliver Sir Lionel,or other person, might give her, she would give back to him or toher--always excepting Mrs. Leake--a Rowland that should be quite asgood. But Miss Baker was no subject for a joke, and Sir Lionel was induty bound to have proposed to her.

  It is perhaps almost true that no one can touch pitch and not bedefiled. Miss Todd had been touching pitch for many years past, andwas undoubtedly defiled to a certain extent. But the grime with herhad never gone deep; it was not ingrained; it had not become anineradicable stain; it was dirt on which soap-and-water might yetoperate. May we not say that her truth and good-nature, and loveof her fellow-creatures, would furnish her at last with the meanswhereby she might be cleansed?

  She was of the world, worldly. It in no way disgusted her that SirLionel was an old rip, and that she knew him to be so. There were agreat many old male rips at Littlebath and elsewhere. Miss Todd'spath in life had brought her across more than one or two such. Sheencountered them without horror, welcomed them without shame, andspoke of them with a laugh rather than a shudder. Her idea was, thatsuch a rip as Sir Lionel would best mend his manners by marriage; bymarriage, but not with her. She knew better than trust herself to anySir Lionel.

  And she had encountered old female rips; that is, if dishonesty inmoney-dealings, selfishness, coarseness, vanity, absence of religion,and false pretences, when joined to age, may be held as constitutingan old female rip. Many such had been around her frequently. Shewould laugh with them, feed them, call on them, lose her money tothem, and feel herself no whit degraded. Such company brought on herno conviction of shame. But yet she was not of them. Coarse she was;but neither dishonest, nor selfish, nor vain, nor irreligious, norfalse.

  Such being the nature of the woman, she had not found it necessary todisplay any indignation when Sir Lionel made his offer; but she didfeel angry with him on Miss Baker's behalf. Why had he deceived thatwoman, and made an ass of himself? Had he had any wit, any knowledgeof character, he would have known what sort of an answer he waslikely to get if he brought his vows and offers to the Paragon. Therehe had been received with no special favour. No lures had been theredisplayed to catch him. He had not been turned out of the house whenhe came there, and that was all. So now, as she put on her bonnet,she determined to punish Sir Lionel.

  But in accusing her suitor of want of judgment, she was quite inthe dark as to his real course of action. She little knew with howprofound a judgment he was managing his affairs. Had she known, shewould hardly have interfered as she now did. As she put her foot onthe step of the fly she desired her servant to drive to MontpellierTerrace.

  She was shown into the drawing-room, and there she found Miss Bakerand Miss Gauntlet; not our friend Adela, but Miss Penelope Gauntlet,who was now again settled in Littlebath.

  "Well, ladies," said Miss Todd, walking up the room with well-assuredfoot and full comfortable presence, "I've news to tell you."

  They both of them saw at a glance that she had news. Between Miss P.Gauntlet and Miss Todd there had never been cordiality. Miss Toddwas, as we have said, of the world, worldly; whereas Miss Gauntletwas of Dr. Snort, godly. She belonged plainly to the third set ofwhich we have spoken; Miss Todd was an amalgamation of the twofirst. Miss Baker, however, was a point of union, a connecting rod.There was about her a savouring of the fragrance of Ebenezer, butaccompanied, it must be owned, by a whiff of brimstone. Thus thesethree ladies were brought together; and as it was manifest that MissTodd had news to tell, the other two were prepared to listen.

  "What do you think, ladies?" and she sat herself down, filling anarm-chair with her goodly person. "What do you think has happened tome to-day?"

  "Perhaps the doctor has been with you," said Miss P. Gauntlet, notalluding to the Littlebath Galen, but meaning to insinuate that MissTodd might have come thither to tell them of her conversion from theworld.

  "Better than ten doctors, my dear"--Miss Penelope drew herself upvery stiffly--"or twenty! I've had an offer of marriage. What do youthink of that?"

  Miss P. Gauntlet looked as though she thought a great deal of it. Shecertainly did think that had such an accident happened to her, shewould not have spoken of it with such a voice, or before such anaudience. But now her face, which was always long and thin, becamelonger and thinner, and she sat with her mouth open, expectingfurther news.

  Miss Baker became rather red, then rather pale, and then red again.She put out her hand, and took hold of the side of the chair in whichshe sat; but she said nothing. Her heart told her that that offer hadbeen made by Sir Lionel.

  "You don't wish me joy, ladies," said Miss Todd.

  "But you have not told us whether you accepted it," said MissPenelope.

  "Ha! ha! ha! No, that's the worst of it. No, I didn't accept it. But,upon my word, it was made."

  Then it was not Sir Lionel, thought Miss Baker, releasing her holdof the chair, and feeling that the blood about her heart was againcirculating.

  "And is that all that we are to know?" asked Miss Penelope.

  "Oh, my dears, you shall know it all. I told my lover that I shouldkeep no secrets. But, come, you shall guess. Who was it, Miss Baker?"

  "I couldn't say at all," said Miss Baker, in a faint voice.

  "Perhaps Mr. O'Callaghan," suggested Miss Penelope, conscious,probably, that an ardent young evangelical clergyman is generally inwant of an income.

  "Mr. O'Callaghan!" shouted Miss Todd, throwing up her head withscorn. "Pho! The gentleman I speak of would have made me a lady.Lady--! Now who do you think it was, Miss Baker?"

  "Oh, I couldn't guess at all," said poor Miss Baker. But she now knewthat it was Sir Lionel. It might have been worse, however, and thatshe felt--much worse!

  "Was it Sir Lionel Bertram?" asked the other.

  "Ah! Miss Gauntlet, you know all about the gentlemen of Littlebath. Ican see that. It was Sir Lionel. Wasn't that a triumph?"

  "And you refused him?" asked Miss Penelope.

  "Of course I did. You don't mean to say that you think I would haveaccepted him?"

  To this Miss Penelope made no answer. Her opinions were of a mixedsort. She partly misbelieved Miss Todd--partly wondered at her.Unmarried ladies of a certain age, whatever may be their own feelingsin regard to matrimony on their own behalf, seem always impressedwith a conviction that other ladies in the same condition wouldcertainly marry if they got an opportunity. Miss Penelope could notbelieve that Miss Todd had rejected Sir Lionel; but at the sametime she could not but be startled also by the great fact of such arejection. At any rate her course of duty was open. Littlebath shouldbe enlightened on the subject before the drawing-room candles werelit that evening; or at any rate that set in Littlebath to which shebelonged. So she rose from her chair, and, declaring that she had satan unconscionable time with Miss Baker, departed, diligent, about herwork.

  "Well, what do you think of that, my dear?" said Miss Todd, as soonas the two of them were left alone.

  It was strange that Miss Todd, who was ordinarily so good-natured,who was so especially intent on being good-natured to Miss Baker,should have thus roughly communicated to her friend tidings whichwere sure to wound. But she had omitted to look at it in this light.Her intention had been to punish Sir Lionel for having been sogrossly false and grossly foolish. She had seen through him--atleast, hardly through him; had seen at least that he must have beendoubting between th
e two ladies, and that he had given up the onewhom he believed to be the poorer. She did not imagine it possiblethat, after having offered to her, he should then go with a similaroffer to Miss Baker. Had such an idea arisen in her mind, she wouldcertainly have allowed Miss Baker to take her chance of promotionunmolested.

  Miss Baker gave a long sigh. Now that Miss Gauntlet was gone she feltherself better able to speak; but, nevertheless, any speech on thesubject was difficult to her. Her kind heart at once forgave MissTodd. There could now be no marriage between that false one and herfriend; and therefore, if the ice would only get itself broken, shewould not be unwilling to converse upon the subject. But how to breakthe ice!

  "I always thought he would," at last she said.

  "Did you?" said Miss Todd. "Well, he certainly used to come there,but I never knew why. Sometimes I thought it was to talk about you."

  "Oh, no!" said Miss Baker, plaintively.

  "I gave him no encouragement--none whatever;--used to send him hereand there--anything to get rid of him. Sometimes I thought--" andthen Miss Todd hesitated.

  "Thought what?" asked Miss Baker.

  "Well, I don't want to be ill-natured; but sometimes I thought thathe wanted to borrow money, and didn't exactly know how to begin."

  "To borrow money!" He had once borrowed money from Miss Baker.

  "Well, I don't know; I only say I thought so. He never did."

  Miss Baker sighed again, and then there was a slight pause in theconversation.

  "But, Miss Todd--"

  "Well, my dear!"

  "Do you think that--"

  "Think what? Speak out, my dear; you may before me. If you've got anysecret, I'll keep it."

  "Oh! I've got no secret; only this. Do you think that Sir Lionelis--is poor--that he should want to borrow money?"

  "Well; poor! I hardly know what you call poor. But we all know thathe is a distressed man. I suppose he has a good income, and a littleready money would, perhaps, set him up; but there's no doubt abouthis being over head and ears in debt, I suppose."

  This seemed to throw a new and unexpected light on Miss Baker's mind."I thought he was always so very respectable," said she.

  "Hum-m-m!" said Miss Todd, who knew the world.

  "Eh?" said Miss Baker, who did not.

  "It depends on what one means by respectable," said Miss Todd.

  "I really thought he was so very--"

  "Hum-m-m-m," repeated Miss Todd, shaking her head.

  And then there was a little conversation carried on between theseladies so entirely _sotto voce_ that the reporter of this scene wasunable to hear a word of it. But this he could see, that Miss Toddbore by far the greater part in it.

  At the end of it, Miss Baker gave another, and a longer, and adeeper sigh. "But you know, my dear," said Miss Todd, in her mostconsolatory voice, and these words were distinctly audible, "nothingdoes a man of that sort so much good as marrying."

  "Does it?" asked Miss Baker.

  "Certainly; if his wife knows how to manage him."

  And then Miss Todd departed, leaving Miss Baker with much work forher thoughts. Her female friend Miss Baker had quite forgiven; butshe felt that she could never quite forgive him. "To have deceivedme so!" she said to herself, recurring to her old idea of his greatrespectability. But, nevertheless, it was probably his other sin thatrankled deepest in her mind.

  Of Miss Baker it may be said that she had hardly touched the pitch;at any rate, that it had not defiled her.

  Sir Lionel was somewhat ill at ease as he walked from the Paragon tohis livery stables. He had certainly looked upon success with MissTodd as by no means sure; but, nevertheless, he was disappointed. Letany of us, in any attempt that we may make, convince ourselves withever so much firmness that we shall fail, yet we are hardly the lessdown-hearted when the failure comes. We assure ourselves that we arenot sanguine, but we assure ourselves falsely. It is man's nature tobe sanguine; his nature, and perhaps his greatest privilege.

  And Sir Lionel, as he walked along, began to fear that his ownscruples would now stand in the way of that other marriage--ofthat second string to his bow. When, in making his little privatearrangements within his own mind, he had decided that if Miss Toddrejected him he would forthwith walk off to Miss Baker, it neveroccurred to him that his own feelings would militate against sucha proceeding. But such was now absolutely the fact. Having talkedabout "dear Sarah," he found that even he would have a difficulty inbringing himself to the utterance of "dear Mary."

  He went to bed, however, that night with the comfortable reflectionthat any such nonsense would be dissipated by the morning. But whenthe morning came--his morning, one P.M.--his feeling he found wasthe same. He could not see Miss Baker that day.

  He was disgusted and disappointed with himself. He had flatteredhimself that he was gifted with greater firmness; and now that hefound himself so wanting in strength of character, he fretted andfumed, as men will do, even at their own faults. He swore to himselfthat he would go to-morrow, and that evening went to bed early,trying to persuade himself that indigestion had weakened him. He didgreat injustice, however, to as fine a set of internal organs as everblessed a man of sixty.

  At two o'clock next day he dressed himself for the campaign inMontpellier Terrace; but when dressed he was again disorganised. Hefound that he could not do it. He told himself over and over againthat with Miss Baker there need be no doubt; she, at least, wouldaccept him. He had only to smile there, and she would smile again. Hehad only to say "dear Mary," and those soft eyes would be turned tothe ground and the battle would be won.

  But still he could not do it. He was sick; he was ill; he could noteat his breakfast. He looked in the glass, and found himself to beyellow, and wrinkled, and wizened. He was not half himself. Therewere yet three weeks before Miss Baker would leave Littlebath. Itwas on the whole better that his little arrangement should be madeimmediately previous to her departure. He would leave Littlebath forten days, and return a new man. So he went up to London, and bestowedhis time upon his son.

  At the end of the ten days much of his repugnance had worn off. Butstill the sound of that word "Sarah," and the peal of laughter whichfollowed, rang in his ears. That utterance of the verbiage of loveis a disagreeable task for a gentleman of his years. He had tried it,and found it very disagreeable. He would save himself a repetition ofthe nuisance and write to her.

  He did so. His letter was not very long. He said nothing about "Mary"in it, but contented himself with calling her his dearest friend. Afew words were sufficient to make her understand what he meant, andthose few words were there. He merely added a caution, that for boththeir sakes, the matter had better not at present be mentioned toanybody.

  Miss Baker, when she received this letter, had almost recovered herequanimity. Hers had been a soft and gentle sorrow. She had hadno fits of bursting grief; her wailings had been neither loud norhysterical. A gentle, soft, faint tinge of melancholy had come uponher; so that she had sighed much as she sat at her solitary tea, andhad allowed her novel to fall uncared for to the ground. "Would itnot be well for her," she said to herself more than once, "to go toHadley? Would not any change be well for her?" She felt now thatCaroline's absence was a heavy blow to her, and that it would be wellthat she should leave Littlebath. It was astonishing how this affairof Miss Todd's reconciled her to her future home.

  And then, when she was thus tranquil, thus resigned, thus all buthappy, came this tremendous letter, upsetting her peace of mind, andthrowing her into a new maze of difficulties.

  She had never said to herself at any time that if Sir Lionel didpropose she would accept him. She had never questioned herself as tothe probability of such an event. That she would have accepted him afortnight ago, there can be no doubt; but what was she to do now?

  It was not only that Sir Lionel had made another tender of his handto another lady ten or twelve days since, but to this must be addedthe fact that all Littlebath knew that he had done so. Miss Todd,after the first
ebullition of her comic spleen, had not said muchabout it; but Miss P. Gauntlet's tongue had not been idle. She,perhaps, had told it only to the godly; but the godly, let them beever so exclusive, must have some intercourse with the wicked world;and thus every lady in Littlebath now knew all about it. And thenthere were other difficulties. That whispered conversation still rangin her ears. She was not quite sure how far it might be her missionto reclaim such a man as Sir Lionel--this new Sir Lionel whom MissTodd had described. And then, too, he was in want of money. Why, shewas in want of money herself!

  But was there not something also to be said on the other side? It isreported that unmarried ladies such as Miss Baker generally regretthe forlornness of their own condition. If so, the fault is nottheir own, but must be attributed to the social system to which theybelong. The English world is pleased to say that an unmarried ladypast forty has missed her hit in life--has omitted to take her tideat the ebb; and what can unmarried ladies do but yield to the world'sdictum? That the English world may become better informed, and learnas speedily as may be to speak with more sense on the subject, let usall pray.

  But, in the meantime, the world's dictum was strong at Littlebath,and did influence this dear lady. She would prefer the name of LadyBertram to that of Miss Baker for the remainder of the term of yearsallotted to her. It would please her to walk into a room as a marriedwoman, and to quit herself of that disgrace, which injustice andprejudice, and the folly of her own sex rather than of the other, hadso cruelly attached to her present position. And then, to be _Lady_Bertram! There were but few angels at this time in Littlebath, andMiss Baker was not one of them: she had a taint of vanity in hercomposition; but we doubt if such female vanity could exist in anyhuman breast in a more pardonable form than it did in hers.

  And then, perhaps, this plan of marrying might have the wished-foreffect on Sir Lionel's way of living;--and how desirable was this!Would it not be a splendid work for her to reclaim a lost colonel?Might it not be her duty to marry him with this special object?

  There certainly did appear to be some difficulty as to money. If, asMiss Todd assured her, Sir Lionel were really in difficulties, herown present annuity--all that she could absolutely call her own--herone hundred and eighty-nine pounds, seventeen shillings andthreepence per annum--would not help them much. Sir Lionel was at anyrate disinterested in his offer; that at least was clear to her.

  And then a sudden light broke in upon her meditations. Sir Lionel andthe old gentleman were at variance. We allude to the old gentlemanat Hadley: with the other old gentleman, of whom we wot, it may bepresumed that Sir Lionel was on tolerably favourable terms. Might notshe be the means of bringing the two brothers together? If she wereLady Bertram, would not the old gentleman receive Sir Lionel backto his bosom for her sake--to his bosom, and also to his purse? Butbefore she took any step in the dark, she resolved to ask the oldgentleman the question.

  It is true that Sir Lionel had desired her to speak to no person onthe subject; but that injunction of course referred to strangers. Itcould not but be expected that on such a matter she should consulther best friends. Sir Lionel had also enjoined a speedy answer;and in order that she might not disappoint him in this matter,she resolved to put the question at once to Mr. Bertram. Greatmeasures require great means. She would herself go to Hadley on themorrow--and so she wrote a letter that night, to beg that her unclewould expect her.

  "So; you got tired of Littlebath before the month was out?" said he.

  "Oh! but I am going back again."

  "Going back again! Then why the d---- have you come up now?" Alas!it was too clear that the old gentleman was not in one of his morepacific moods.

  As these words were spoken, Miss Baker was still standing in thepassage, that she might see her box brought in from the fly. She ofcourse had on her bonnet, and thickest shawl, and cloak. She hadthick boots on also, and an umbrella in her hand. The maid was in thepassage, and so was the man who had driven her. She was very cold,and her nose was blue, and her teeth chattered. She could not tellher tale of love in such guise, or to such audience.

  "What the d---- has brought you up?" repeated the old gentleman,standing with his two sticks at the sitting-room door. He did notcare who heard him, or how cold it was, or of what nature might beher present mission. He knew that an extra journey from Littlebath toLondon and back, flys and porters included, would cost two pounds tenshillings. He knew, or thought that he knew, that this might havebeen avoided. He also knew that his rheumatism plagued him, that hisold bones were sore, that he could not sleep at night, that he couldnot get into the city to see how things went, and that the game wascoming to an end with him, and that the grave was claiming him. Itwas not surprising that the old gentleman should be cross.

  "I'll tell you if you'll let me come into the room," said Miss Baker."Take the box upstairs, Mary. Half a crown! oh no, two shillingswill be quite enough." This economy was assumed to pacify theold gentleman; but it did not have the desired effect. "One andsixpence," he holloed out from his crutches. "Don't give him ahalfpenny more."

  "Please, sir, the luggage, sir," said the fly driver.

  "Luggage!" shouted the old man. His limbs were impotent, but hisvoice was not; and the fly-driver shook in his shoes.

  "There," said Miss Baker, insidiously giving the man two andthreepence. "I shall not give you a farthing more." It is to befeared that she intended her uncle to think that his limit had notbeen exceeded.

  And then she was alone with Mr. Bertram. Her nose was still blue, andher toes still cold; but at any rate she was alone with him. It washard for her to tell her tale; and she thoroughly wished herself backat Littlebath; but, nevertheless, she did tell it. The courage ofwomen in some conditions of life surpasses anything that man can do.

  "I want to consult you about that," said she, producing Sir Lionel'sletter.

  The old gentleman took it, and looked at it, and turned it. "What!it's from that swindler, is it?" said he.

  "It's from Sir Lionel," said Miss Baker, trembling. There were as yetno promising auspices for the fraternal reconciliation.

  "Yes; I see who it's from--and what is it all about? I shan't readit. You can tell me, I suppose, what's in it."

  "I had hoped that perhaps, sir, you and he might--"

  "Might what?"

  "Be brought together as brothers and friends."

  "Brothers and friends! One can't choose one's brother; but who wouldchoose to be the friend of a swindler? Is that what the letter isabout?"

  "Not exactly that, Mr. Bertram."

  "Then what the d---- is it?"

  "Sir Lionel, sir, has made me--"

  "Made you what? Put your name to a bill, I suppose."

  "No; indeed he has not. Nothing of that kind."

  "Then what has he made you do?"

  "He has not made me do anything; but he has sent me--an--an offerof marriage." And poor Miss Baker, with her blue nose, looked upso innocently, so imploringly, so trustingly, that any one but Mr.Bertram would have comforted her.

  "An offer of marriage from Sir Lionel!" said he.

  "Yes," said Miss Baker, timidly. "Here it is; and I have come up toconsult you about the answer." Mr. Bertram now did take the letter,and did read it through.

  "Well!" he said, closing his eyes and shaking his head gently."Well!"

  "I thought it better to do nothing without seeing you. And that iswhat has brought me to Hadley in such a hurry."

  "The audacious, impudent scoundrel!"

  "You think, then, that I should refuse him?"

  "You are a fool, an ass! a downright old soft-headed fool!" Such wasthe old gentleman's answer to her question.

  "But I didn't know what to say without consulting you," said MissBaker, with her handkerchief to her face.

  "Not know! Don't you know that he's a swindler, a reprobate, apenniless adventurer? Good heavens! And you are such a fool as that!It's well that you are not to be left at Littlebath by yourself."

  Miss Baker made no
attempt to defend herself, but, bursting intotears, assured her uncle that she would be guided by him. Under hisabsolute dictation she wrote the enclosed short answer to Sir Lionel.

  Hadley, January --, 184--.

  Dear Sir,

  Mr. Bertram says that it will be sufficient to let you know that he would not give me a penny during his life, or leave me a penny at his death if I were to become your wife.

  Yours truly,

  MARY BAKER.

  That was all that the old gentleman would allow; but as she foldedthe letter, she surreptitiously added the slightest imaginablepostscript to explain the matter--such words as occurred to her atthe spur of the moment.

  "He is so angry about it all!"

  After that Miss Baker was not allowed back to Littlebath, even topack up or pay her bills, or say good-bye to those she left behind.The servant had to do it all. Reflecting on the danger which had beensurmounted, Mr. Bertram determined that she should not again be putin the way of temptation.

  And this was the end of Sir Lionel's wooing.