Collected Works of Frances Trollope

by Frances Milton Trollope

  Mrs. Major Allen listened to this with the greatest satisfaction; it was the first time she had ever heard her husband distinctly declare an intention of returning to England; and though, at the very bottom of her heart, she had determined to do so herself one day or other, even if she found herself obliged to leave him behind, the discovering that his wishes accorded with her own was highly gratifying, and she immediately determined upon opening her mind to him concerning a scheme that had for some time past occupied her head.

  “My darling Major!” she exclaimed, “how delighted I am to hear you talk so! Remember the saying, ‘Where there’s a will there’s a way; and do you only give me your promise that when you can go, you will, and I will give mine to push on in every way possible to the same delightful end. I will spend just next to nothing, dearest, in any way; — I will buy no feathers either for baby or myself, and almost no flowers neither; I’ll promise not to think of any more satin dresses, if it is for — almost a dozen years to come; and I will trust, for making a decent appearance, altogether to turning, trimming, and satin-stitch. In short, my dearest Major, there is nothing in the whole world that I would not do to get back.”

  “I am glad to hear all this, my love, very glad. There is nothing like having a few rouleaux beforehand, my dear, depend upon it — stick to the saving plan about clothes and all your own little expenses, and it is quite impossible to say what may be the fruits of it one of these days.”

  “Oh! but you don’t know, Major, what else I have got in my head,” replied his wife, with a gay glance that reminded him of Clifton; “when we DO go back, it shall not be my fault if we do not find somebody worth introducing our child to.”

  “Who will that he, my dear?” said he, with a glance almost as gay as her own; “to my Lord Mucklebury?” — for, with a degree of generous confidence which really did honour to her heart, Mrs. Major Allen had confessed to her husband how very near marriage she had been with that nobleman, and how completely it was owing to a mere accidental misunderstanding between them that the match had been broken off.

  “It is by no means impossible that I may do that good service both to you and to her, my love,” answered the lady; “for I have every reason to flatter myself that what was love, very fervent love certainly, has now mellowed into friendship, and I have little doubt that by the time we return he may be able to see me, and even my child, without pain — though he may perhaps heave a guiltless sigh that he is not the father of it. But it was not of him, Major Allen — I do assure you that it was not of him I was thinking.”

  “Of whom, then, Mrs. Allen, — of those Clifton people? Pray do not let us talk about them. For, in the first instance, I hate them all particularly; and in the next, they are not in a station of life that can do me, or any man of fashion, service.”

  Mrs. Allen was not at all displeased at hearing her husband thus class himself; but her change of colour would have been visible had she not worn rouge, when he named Clifton. The emotion passed, however, and she resumed without any trace of embarrassment.

  “No, no, no, no, Major Allen, I am not so humble-minded as you imagine. It is not my brother and sister Peters, nor any of my nephews and nieces in that very commercial district that I am thinking about, but of persons in a very different station, I assure you. Be patient for a moment, and I will explain myself.”

  The Major was at that moment smoking a cigar, and continued the operation with as much composure as she could have desired, while she rose from her chair and opened the drawer of a work-table at the further extremity of the apartment. From this drawer she took what might be recognised at the first glance as an English newspaper, and which, though of no very recent date, was the last that had been received in the colony.

  “I have promised never to be extravagant again, my dear,” said the lady, advancing up the room, and searching the precious columns as she walked, for the article she wished to show him, “and therefore you must not scold me for having bought this newspaper, I really could not resist it when I found this paragraph concerning the very nearest relations I have in the world. Let me read it to you, shall I?”

  The Major smoked on, but graciously nodded his head.

  “It is the account of a drawing-room held at St. James’s Palace, Major Alien — I was always fond of reading those sort of articles even in England, for nothing keeps up our acquaintance with the fashionable world so well — besides the insight it gives one into dress; and here of course it is ten thousand times more valuable still, to prevent one’s forgetting the very names of one’s relations, and all other persons of rank.”

  Here Mrs. Major Allen began reading a very long list of persons present at the drawing-room, and at length came to the names of “General and Mrs. Hubert,” as being among them.

  “I suppose you know who she is, Major Allen, if you do not remember him.”

  “Not I,” said the Major.

  “What, my dear! — don’t you remember my darling niece, Agnes? The girl that I devoted myself to so completely, before she married?”

  “What, the little Willoughby, who was so skittish that she would never let one speak to her. Oh! dear yes, I remember her perfectly.”

  “Well, Major, it is she who is now Mrs. General Hubert, and who has been, as you perceive, presented at Court.”

  “Oh! she married the stiff-backed Colonel did she? I forgot all about it, my dear. And is it to the General’s lady that you are going to introduce me?”

  There was a comic sort of leer in the eye of the Major as he said this, which his wife did not altogether understand; but after looking at him for a moment, she replied, “To be sure it is, my dear. My darling Agnes, Mrs. General Hubert, as of course I must now call her, will be beyond all question the most fitting and proper person to introduce our daughter into society. Nor is there the slightest reason why she should not be presented at court when she is old enough; and it is just because she is not old enough yet, that I am content to wait so patiently till it may suit you, my dear Major, to accompany us back to Europe. But though there might be no particular use in our going, as yet, it will, as I have lately thought, be extremely proper for me to write to my niece, and I certainly shall do so immediately.”

  “Depend upon it, my dear, I shall make no sort of objection,” replied the amiable Major; “but don’t you think it just possible that she may not answer you?”

  “No, Major Allen, I do not. I know better than any one else can, except herself, dear child! how devoted was the attachment I showed her — and it is not in nature to believe that whenever I choose to recall myself to her remembrance, she should be otherwise than delighted at hearing from me. I will not deny that some trifling circumstances occurred previous to her marriage, and to mine, which displeased me. However, everything was made up, most affectionately, before I left England, and a very touching scene it was, I assure you, with poor dear Willoughby, her father, who suddenly returned from some place like this, I don’t know where, abroad, and brought another daughter with him. A charming creature she is — not quite so lovely and elegant-looking as my niece, but very pretty, and married to an extremely rich young son of a baronet. So you see, Major, the connection throughout is most extremely desirable for our Martha, and when the time comes for our return, will unquestionably be of the greatest importance to her. So write I shall most decidedly.”

  The indifference with which the Major at first appeared to listen to her, relaxed by degrees as she went on, and when at length she paused, he said, without any sneer at all, “Very well, my dear; you are perfectly a woman of the world, which is exactly what I would wish you to be; and nothing could be more desirable than that our little girl should in due time be introduced to such very near relations. But, I believe, I have hinted to you before, that there are two or three reasons which should render my immediate return to England inconvenient. I have, hitherto, never entered upon any explanation of them; because, in fact, they possessed little interest in themselves, and were of no conseq
uence whatever to us in our present situation. But if it should prove that there really is any chance of our getting among the set you mention, when we get back, it may be as well to make you understand the affair sufficiently to prevent any awkward blunders on your part, which might be inconvenient. Not that the thing, in point of fact, is of any great consequence; but nevertheless, as it involves some trifling etiquette, that, some sort of people think a great deal about, it may be as well to put you au fait of the business; and I shall have great pleasure, I am sure, in giving you this proof of my confidence.

  “But here comes our friend Belmaine. Remember, love, all our established hints and tokens; and remember, also, that whatever I do chance to win will be added to the fund, which I trust we shall be able to lay up for our dear girl’s benefit. There! he is obliged to knock again! Why does not that stupid girl open the door? We will finish our talk to-morrow, dear. Only remember that you are not to write to England till I have explained myself.”

  The worthy Mr. Belmaine here made his appearance, and was received in the most friendly manner, both by the Major and his lady. He was not an old acquaintance, but appeared to be a very valued one, for nothing was omitted that could make their substantial tea-drinking agreeable; and the little Martha, who with almost precocious strength of limb already waddled fearlessly over the floor, was induced to add her note of welcome, by a wonderfully articulated “ta, ta.”

  Soon after the meal was concluded, Mrs. Major Allen retired for a few moments to superintend the coucher of her beautiful child, and, ere she returned, the two gentlemen had very rationally sought and found consolation for her absence in a pack of cards.

  Whenever Major Allen indulged himself in the presence of his wife with a game at piquet, whist, or écarté, the only amusements of the kind he ever ventured upon, his lady had the appearance of being in, what is vulgarly called, a fidget; for she walked about the room, looked at the different hands, and, in short, seemed in search of amusement for herself which she could not find. On such occasions, it was usual for the Major to say “Pray, my dear love, do sit down; you have no idea how you worry me by moving about so.” And she replied, “Well, then, my dear, I will take my work, and amuse myself now and then by looking at your hand.” And then she did take her work, and sat down behind him, very close indeed, sometimes twitching his hair in a lively manner, and sometimes playfully running her needle into his shoulder, always permitting her animated eyes to invite his partner to take part in the jest. After enduring this for about five minutes, it was usual for the Major to lose his patience, and to exclaim, —

  “Upon my word, my love, I cannot play if you go on so. You are as frolicsome as a kitten, dearest, and I give you my honour I can’t bear to check you; but, upon my soul, I am such a nervous player, that I don’t know what I’m about for two minutes together, while you are playing your monkey tricks. Could you not take your work a little further away, love?” Mrs. Major Allen could never stand this reproof, but constantly replied, rather in a plaintive tone —

  “And pretty dull sort of work I shall find it! I dare say, Mr. This, or Mr. That (whoever the Major’s partner might be), will not be so cross as you are, dear, so I will go and sit by him.”

  And she did go and sit by him, or rather behind him, but so quietly, that it was next to impossible that he should be churlish enough to make any objection to her remaining there.

  This little domestic scene was repeated on the present occasion, with just sufficient variation, as to the phrase and frolic, as might suffice to prevent its appearing stupidly repetitive; but when it had been gone through, and Mrs. Major Allen had established herself exactly in the place she wished to occupy, her attention involuntary wandered from the game she overlooked at the present moment, to the greater one, in which she flattered herself she should be engaged at a future time. The mysterious words of her husband, too, haunted her rather painfully. The spelling and putting together which her active intellect rendered inevitable, produced a result, which, if not quite new to her imagination, appeared at this moment more than usually important; and, in short, it was with the greatest difficulty that she conducted herself throughout the very long evening according to her husband’s wishes.

  She really exerted herself, however, to do the best she could; and when at length the beef-steak, sweet potatoes, and whisky-toddy were called for, she performed all the duties of a careful hostess perfectly. So that at last, at about two o’clock in the morning, the snug little party broke up, under circumstances perfectly satisfactory to the Major, who gave his weary wife the reward she well merited, by saying, as he drew up the strings of his inflated purse —

  “Thank you, my dear — everything was very nice, and very well managed. Now let us get to bed, and to-morrow morning we will have a talk about the best way for you to write home to your relations. It would be a fine thing for our little missy, to be sure! and I think it may be done if we manage well. People talk of good fortune, and bad fortune, but depend upon it, my dear Barnaby” (it was thus he ever addressed her when in particularly high spirits), “depend upon it that it is human skill which regulates human affairs, and that when some great misfortune befalls us, it is because we have committed some great blunder; while, on the contrary, if some striking blessing, as it is called, rewards our endeavours, it proves, beyond the possibility of any reasonable doubt, that we have known how to set about what we had to do, and performed the task skilfully and well. There — don’t let us talk any more to-night, because that last glass of toddy has made me very sleepy. Good night, dear, good night!”

  CHAPTER III.

  THAT nothing might interrupt the conversation which Mrs. Major Allen was quite determined should not be delayed, she would not even suffer her daughter to appear at the breakfast-table the following morning; but, though the young lady was crying pretty lustily at the other end of the house, ventured to assure her papa, when he kindly inquired for her, that she was fast asleep.

  Having set all things in such order that no further assistance from without could he required, Mrs. Allen thus began:—” Well, Major Allen, I have made up my mind not to let this blessed day pass over my head, without writing to my dear niece, Mrs. General Hubert. I have been looking over the paper again — there is the whole account of her dress at full length, which I quite forgot to show you, my dear. Such taste! — such splendour! Don’t you think, my dear Allen, that it is our bounden duty to leave not a stone unturned, that might help to place our dear child among such cousins as these?”

  “We will leave neither sticks nor stones unturned, as you call it, my dear. But the matter must be managed very judiciously. There is no doubt in the world that the relationship is quite near enough to render our entering their circle perfectly natural and proper; and considering all you did for that girl Agnes, it can hardly be doubted that she will welcome you with open arms. She must be a monster, indeed, if she did not! Nevertheless, strange as it may seem to you, my dear creature, there will be a good deal of caution necessary in the manner in which you introduce me to them.”

  Mrs. Major Alien put down the portion of buttered roll which she was in the act of raising to her lips, and turned rather faint. However, as she by no means wished the Major to guess what was passing in her-mind, she made an effort to recover herself, which was as successful as such efforts always are; and then she replied with great apparent composure, “Well, deary, you said I should know all about it to-day — so get on, there’s a good man, — I am afraid of nothing, not I, so speak out, and you shall never see me flinch.”

  “You are a charming creature, my love, and deserve all the devoted attachment I have shown you. Now listen to me, then, and join your excellent judgment to mine, as to the best mode of conquering the difficulties which lie in our way. But first, I must ask you if you have written at all to England since the death of O’Donagough, or since your marriage with me?”

  “Why, no, my dear — to say the truth, I have not,” replied the lady; “for, to speak
honestly, I felt half afraid of being laughed at, for the facility with which I suffered my former passion to regain its hold upon me.”

  “You were right, perfectly right. I am exceedingly glad of this, for reasons which I can easily explain to you. Then in fact, dear, you have never sent any letter to Europe, signed with my name? Nor any announcing your last husband’s death?”

  “No, I never have.”

  “And you never shall, my darling!” returned the Major, in an accent of very ardent tenderness.

  Mrs. Major Allen looked very much as if she wished to say, “Why?” But she conquered the wish, if she felt it, deeming it best to let her husband tell his story his own way. After a pause, sufficiently long to permit his finishing his first cup of tea, the Major continued.

  “No, my love, never! This declaration must, I am sure, astonish you, though your sweet reliance on me will not permit you to say so. Believe me, darling, this noble confidence is not misplaced; and the time will come, doubt it not, when you will thank me for the prudence which thus anxiously seeks to spare you all alarm. The fact is, my love, that an affair of honour, which ended fatally, was the cause of my leaving England.” Mrs. Major Allen did not believe one word of this — but she was an admirable wife; and instead of contumaciously expressing any doubt, meekly replied, “Really!”

  “Yes, my love! My unerring hand sent the leaden messenger of death too truly! and nothing but the conscientious conviction, that the wretch who thus fell deserved his fate, could console me for being the author of it!”

  As the Major said this, he concealed his agitation, or at any rate, his face, by his extended hand, leaving room, however, between his third and fourth finger, to peep at the face of his wife, and see how she bore it. Fortunately, that excellent and intelligent lady perceived that he did so, and immediately checked an inclination to smile, which might have been disagreeably interpreted. So instead of this, she blew her nose, and then said, very gravely, “Oh! my dear, there is no good in fretting and vexing about those kind of things. They must happen, you know, occasionally; and to say the truth, I did not think that any gentleman of your profession, any military gentleman, I mean, would have thought much about it.”