This brutish speech being answered only by the sighs and tears of the dejected auditor, her consequential brother stopped a moment for breath, and then proceeded:
‘However, don’t be cast down: you know that though my opinion has always gone for nothing, I am always willing to serve you, sister; and so I wish you would, before ’tis too late, and before your youngest son goes the way of your eldest, think a little of making him do something to get himself on in the world: – for my part, and I’m sure every body as knows any thing of life and human nature, will agree with me, that the boy will be undone if he goes on as he does at present; and I give you warning, that in a little time there won’t be a pin to choose between him and that hopeful youth, ‘squire Philip.’
This was almost too much for poor Mrs Somerive, who however commanded her tears and sobs so far as to ask her brother what reason he had to think so.
He then communicated to her, as he assured her in perfect friendship, that there was great reason to suppose Orlando kept a mistress, and was lavishing on her the small remains of the money his commission had sold for; and upon her beseeching him to tell her what reason he had to believe so, he informed her that not only it was false that Orlando had taken a lodging near the inns of court in order to be near Carr, but that he actually lived within two streets of his mother’s house, with a young woman who had of late been frequently met with him of an evening, leaning on his arm, and whom, on enquiry, he was found to have brought with him from the country.
Thunderstruck with intelligence which Orlando’s general air of absence and impatience when he was with his family gave her too much reason to believe was true, and dreading lest she had lost the sole stay on which she depended for the protection of her two girls in case of her death, the unhappy mother gave herself up to tears, nor could the rough hand of her cruel brother succeed in drying them. Distressed so cruelly, she caught eagerly at whatever had the appearance of relieving her, and therefore promised to adhere to the advice Mr Woodford gave her. He recommended it to her to press Orlando’s return to her house; ‘by which,’ said he, ‘you will soon find out, if you don’t believe it yet, that your pious good boy is not a whit better than t’other. And let me also desire you’ll not let him go on helter skelter in this law-suit, with no better advice than a whiffled-headed fellow such as Carr can give him or get for him; but send him to Mr Darby, my son-in-law, a man I can tell you that knows what he’s about, and is a thriving man in the law. He shall not charge any thing upon your account for his advice; so you’ll save five or ten guineas at once. I’ll speak to Mr Darby; and in the mean time, d’ye see, do you have some serious conversation with your son. Let him find out that we are not so easily to be gull’d; and that ‘twon’t do to take old birds with chaff.’
Mrs Somerive then promised to do as he dictated; and he left her, after this conversation, one of the most miserable beings on earth.
Orlando, the next time he saw his mother, found the effects of his uncle’s ungenerous interference. She received him with an air of constraint to which he was little accustomed, and which seemed to be attended with extreme pain to herself: she questioned him in a tone she had never taken up before; seemed dissatisfied with his answers, which certainly were embarrassed and contradictory; and ended the conversation with telling him that, unless he would extremely disoblige her, he must lay the whole state of the question as to the Rayland estate before Mr Darby, his cousin’s husband. This Orlando promised to do, being very desirous of obliging his mother wherever he could do it without betraying a secret which he thought it would distress her to know; and, desirous to end as soon as he could a conversation so painful, he agreed to go directly to Carr, and procure a proper state of the affair for the opinion of counsel; and to wait on Mr Darby the next morning, against which time Mrs Somerive was to give him notice, by Mr Woodford, of the application of this client.
Orlando owed too much to the good nature, integrity, and industry of his friend Carr, not to use the greatest precaution against offending him; but the moment he opened his business, and told him what his mother had insisted upon, Carr very candidly offered to promote this application without prejudice to those he had already made; and the case, and steps already taken in the business, having been prepared, Orlando waited the next day on Mr Darby according to his own appointment, and for the first time was introduced to him at once as his cousin and client. The lady, formerly Miss Eliza Woodford, ‘kept her state;’ and Orlando, instead of being shewn into her dressing-room to wait till Mr Darby should be at liberty to speak to him, as he would naturally have been if he had fortunately been a rich relation, was shewn into a back room, surrounded by books that seemed more for shew than use, and desired to wait.
Here he remained more than half an hour, before his relation learned in the law appeared. He was a tall, awkward, raw-boned man, with a pale face, two small wild grey eyes, and a squirrel-coloured riding-wig; who, having coldly saluted his new acquaintance, took his case, and, looking slightly over it as Orlando explained his situation, he said (drawing in his breath at every word, and doubling in his lips so that they disappeared) – ‘Hum, hah; hum – I see . . . Hum, hum, hum; I observe a! – Hum a! – I perceive a! – Yes a – Hum! – dean and chapter – hum; so a – Doctor Hollybourn a, hum – I know him – hum a – know him a little . . .’ Then rubbing his forehead, added, ‘a respectable – hum! a – man, a – a Doctor Hollybourn – man of very considerable, hum, a – property, a – hum, a –’
Orlando, marvelling how this man, with his inverted lips, and the hum – a’s that broke every second word, could be reckoned to make a respectable figure at the bar, now began, as the eloquent counsel was silent, another explanatory speech; which, however, he was not allowed to finish, for Mr Darby, again assuring him that Doctor Hollybourn was very rich, and of course very respectable, said, he could not think that – hum, a – the doctor, so worthy a man as he was, would be accessary in – hum a, injuring any one, or keeping the right heir out of his estate; but, hum a – hum a – there must be some misrepresentation: but that, however, he was engaged that morning with two briefs, of the utmost importance; therefore, he would consider the thing at his leisure, and let him know in a few days – hum a – . – Orlando, then leaving his compliments to Mrs Darby, hastened away, rather repenting of his visit, and having gained, he thought, nothing by it, but what was likely to end in a hum a!
On his return to Carr’s chambers, his friend accosted him with an enquiry how he liked the special pleader? – ‘A special pleader d’ye call him?’ cried Orlando; ‘for Heaven’s sake, wherefore?’
‘Because it is our name,’ replied Carr, ‘for a particular branch of our profession.’
‘Curse the fellow!’ cried Orlando – ‘A special pleader! why he cannot speak at all – with his hum a, and hum a.’
‘That would not signify so much,’ said Carr, ‘if the man was honest; but I may say to you, that, under the most specious professions of honesty, I don’t believe there is a more crafty or mercenary head in Westminster Hall, than that orange tawny caxon his covers. The hesitation and embarrassment of his oratory was at first the effect of stupidity; but by degrees, as acquired chicane supplies the place of natural talent, he has continued it, because it is a sort of excuse for never giving an immediate or positive answer; and while he is hum a-ing and haw a-ing, he is often considering how he may best make his advantage of the affairs confided to him.’
‘Good God!’ exclaimed Orlando; ‘and why, then, would you let me apply to such a man?’
‘Nay,’ replied Carr, ‘how could I pretend to engage you to decline a reference recommended by your mother? Besides, you know, my friend, that in our profession we make it a rule never to speak as we think. What? would you have an apothecary declaim against a physician in whose practice it is to occasion the greatest demand for drugs?’
‘Hang your simile!’ said Orlando: ‘I am afraid you are all rogues together.’
‘More or less, my
good friend – some of more sense than others, and some a little, little more conscience – but, for the rest, I am afraid we are all of us a little too much professional rogues; though some of us, as individuals, would not starve the orphan, or break the heart of the widow – but in our vocation, Hal! labouring in our vocation, we give all remorse of that sort to the winds.’
‘Would your profession were annihilated, then!’ cried Orlando.
‘Why, I do not believe,’ answered Carr, ‘that the world would be much the worse if it were; but, my friend, not to be too hard upon us, do reflect on the practices of other professions. The little, smirking fellow, with so smiling an aspect, and so well-powdered a head, whom you see pass in his chariot, administers to his patient the medicines a physician orders, though he knows they are more likely to kill than cure; and, in his account at night, thinks not of the tears of a family whom he has seen in the greatest distress, but of the bill he shall have for medicines and attendance. The merchant, who sits down in his compting-house, and writes to his correspondent at Jamaica, that his ship, the Good Intent of Liverpool, is consigned to him at Port-Royal with a cargo of slaves from the coast of Guinea, calculates the profits of a fortunate adventure, but never considers the tears and blood with which this money is to be raised. He hears not the groans of an hundred human creatures confined together in the hold of a small merchantman – he . . .’
‘Do,’ cried Orlando, ‘dear Carr, finish your catalogue of human crimes, unless you have a mind to make me go home and hang myself.’
‘No man would do that,’ answered Carr, ‘who had such a lovely wife as you have – she would reconcile me to a much worse world than this is.’
The friends then parted; Orlando very far from being satisfied with his visit to his cousin learned in the law – and very uneasy, on his arrival at his mother’s, to observe, in her behaviour to him, increased symptoms of that discontent he had observed the day before.
CHAPTER XI
NEARLY six weeks more now passed; another Term was almost wasted in those contrived delays which destroy all the boasted energy and simplicity of the British laws; when Mr Carr advised Orlando to see Dr Hollybourn himself; which, however disagreeable it was to him, he at length consented to do, at the earnest and repeated request of one who he believed had his real interest much at heart. Orlando had lately suffered so much uneasiness at the deception he had been and was still guilty of towards his mother, that he found it almost impossible for him to continue it; but he was continually withheld from the avowal he wished to make, by the tears of Selina, and by his fears for the effect that a reluctant, or even an affectionate reception might have on the timid spirits of his wife, whose situation increased his tenderness and anxiety; while his reduced finances filled him with the most painful solicitude, as he reflected that, when they were quite exhausted, he should have nothing to support his Monimia and the infant he expected she would give him.
Sacrificing to the remotest hope of benefiting objects, so precious to him, his own reluctance to make a very disagreeable visit, he repaired to the residence of Dr Hollybourn, at an hour when he was told the reverend Divine was most likely to be at home.
On his arrival, however, he heard the Doctor was out: but as a coach was waiting at the door, he doubted this; and, while he was yet speaking to the footman at the door, another from the top of the stairs called out, ‘Let counsellor Darby’s coach draw up!’ – Orlando then stepped forward into the hall, telling the servant that he had very particular business with Dr Hollybourn, and could not call again; therefore that he must see him: – at the same moment Mr Darby himself hurried down stairs, and Orlando met him in the hall. – The lawyer seemed in as much confusion when he met him, as such a lawyer is capable of being: slightly bowing, and muttering something of haste as he passed, he hurried into his coach; while Orlando, without waiting for the return of the footman, who was gone up to announce him to the Doctor, walked up stairs, and entered a very elegant room, where the worthy Doctor, looking more than ever like the uncle of Gil Blas, was squatted on a sopha, with some papers before him, which, on the appearance of Orlando (whom he was ordering his servant to dismiss), he huddled away in some confusion.
Orlando now approached, and in a few words opened his business, laying some stress upon the hardships he had suffered in being deprived of an estate to which his father was undoubtedly next heir, while it went to enrich a body who had no manner of occasion for such an acquisition of wealth.
The divine professor of humility and charity – he who some few months before offered his most accomplished daughter to the then fortunate Orlando, now deigned not to ask him to sit; but, cocking up his little red nose, and plumping down again on his cushion, he began to snuffle forth his wonder at this application. He said, ‘God forbid, young man, that I as executor to the late worthy lady of Rayland Hall, whose soul is now with the blessed, should defraud you or any man! But that pious woman, the last remains of an ancient, honourable, and religious family, to be sure knew best what would most contribute to the glory of the Lord, and the good of his creatures; among the poor and needy of whom she left her noble fortune to be divided, and I shall take care most sacredly to perform her worthy wish, and to sanctify her estate to the holy purposes she intended it for.’
Orlando, who could not command the indignation he felt against this canting hypocrite, now very loudly and peremptorily demanded to know, ‘Whether Doctor Hollybourn was not well apprised, that there was a will made by Mrs Rayland, after that under which his society claimed the estate? and whether two persons had not declared, at Rayland Hall, that they knew it to be so, whose evidence Roker had since been employed to stifle?’ – To this the Doctor said, ‘He understood he was to reply upon oath in putting in his answer to the bill in chancery, and therefore he should now say nothing: but if you, young man, have any thing more to say, you know where to find Mr Roker, my solicitor; to him I refer you. – Here – Richard! – Peter! – John! – shew this person down!’ – Orlando by no means disposed to submit to this cavalier treatment, though the age and profession of the Doctor protected him from the effects of the resentment he felt, began however a more severe remonstrance; which the Doctor not being disposed to listen to, rose from his sopha, and, with the grace of a terrier bitch on the point of pupping, he waddled into the next room, and shut the door. Orlando then finding his attempts to argue such a sordid and selfish being into any sense of justice totally useless, left the house, and, returning to his friend Carr, related his adventures; where he had the mortification to have his suspicions confirmed by Carr, that, so far from his application to Mr Darby being likely to produce any good, there was every appearance that he had entered the lists on the other side – ‘And this,’ said Carr, ‘has been a frequent practice with him; it being with this worthy man an invariable maxim, inherited I believe from his father, that no man is poor, but from his own faults and follies – for which, though no man has been guilty of more than he has in the former part of his life, he professes to have no pity – And as to law, he is not much out, nor was your honest friend the miller, in saying, that he who has the longest purse is in this country the most frequently successful.’
Orlando, with an heart not much lightened by the transactions of the day, returned to his lodgings to a late dinner. – Monimia was ill, a circumstance that added to the gloom that hung over him: – she made light of it however, and endeavoured to restore to him that cheerfulness, of which, she observed with great uneasiness, he had been some time deprived; but it is difficult to communicate to others sensations we do not feel ourselves. – She smiled, but tears were in her eyes – She assured him she suffered nothing; but he saw her pale and languid, and now was confirmed in what he had long fancied, that the air of London did not agree with her; and it was with inexpressible anguish he reflected, that now, when the tenderest attention to her health was necessary, he was deprived of the means of procuring her country air, which, as spring advanced, she seemed to languish for
. – London, where she had never been before, was at first unpleasant, and now disgusting to her; but she never betrayed this but by accident, and wished Orlando to believe that with him every place was to her a heaven.
He now more seldom went to his mother’s than he used to do; because, since her dialogue with Mr Woodford, all her tenderness for him did not prevent her teasing him with questions, and very earnestly pressing him to return to his usual apartment in her house. This somewhat estranged him from his family: but in absenting himself, he found no peace; for though he saw less of his mother and sisters than he used to do, he was as fondly attached to them as ever: and while he thought he saw, in the conduct of his mother, new reasons to adhere to that secrecy which it had already given him so much pain to observe, he imputed it all to the influence of the unfeeling and mercenary Mr Woodford, and, in his most gloomy moods, wished that so unhappy a being as he was had never been born. A thousand times he repented of his having ever left Rayland Hall, to which unfortunate absence all his subsequent disappointments were owing; and sometimes lamented, though he could not repent, that he had married his Monimia, without being able to shield her, as his wife, from the poverty of her former lot.
Complete Poetical Works of Charlotte Smith Page 152