A>>B >>C >> D >>E
F>> G >>H>> I>> J
K >>L>> M>> N>> O
P>> R >>S >> T
U >> V>> W

The Belton Estate

A >> Anthony Trollope >> The Belton Estate

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33



At last there came an absolute necessity for some plain speaking.
Captain Aylmer declared his intention of returning to London that he
might resume his parliamentary duties. He had purposed to remain till
after Easter, but it was found to be impossible. 'I find I must go up
tomorrow,' he said at breakfast. 'They are going to make a stand about
the poor-rates, and I must be in the House in the evening.' Clara felt
herself to be very cold and uncomfortable. As things were at present
arranged, she was to be left at Aylmer Park without a friend. And how
long was she to remain there? No definite ending had been proposed for
her visit. Something must be said and something settled before Captain
Aylmer went away.

'You will come down for Easter, of course,' said his mother.

'Yes; I shall come down for Easter, I think or at any rate at
Whitsuntide.'

'You must come at Easter, Frederic,' said his mother.

'I don't doubt but I shall,' said he.

'Miss Amedroz should lay her commands upon him,' said Sir Anthony
gallantly.

'Nonsense, said Lady Aylmer.

'I have commands to lay upon him all the same,' said Clara; 'and if he
will give me half an hour this morning he shall have them.' To this
Captain Aylmer, of course, assented as how could he escape from such
assent and a regular appointment was made, Captain Aylmer and Miss
Amedroz were to be closeted together in the little back drawing-room
immediately after breakfast. Clara would willingly have avoided any
such formality could she have done so compatibly with the exigencies of
the occasion. She had been obliged to assert herself when Lady Aylmer
had rebuked Sir Anthony, and then Lady Aylmer had determined that an
air of business should be assumed. Clara, as she was marched off into
the back drawing-room followed by her lover with more sheep-like gait
even than her own, felt strongly the absurdity and the wretchedness of
her position. But she was determined to go through with her purpose.

'I am very sorry that I have to leave you so soon,' said Captain
Aylmer, as soon as the door was shut and they were alone together.

'Perhaps it may be better as it is, Frederic; as in this way we shall
all come to understand each other, and something will be settled.'

'Well, yes; perhaps that will be best.'

'Your mother has told me that she disapproves of our marriage.'

'No; not that, I think, I don't think she can have quite said that.'

'She says that you cannot marry while she is alive that is, that you
cannot marry me because your income would not be sufficient.'

'I certainly was speaking to her about my income.'

'Of course I have got nothing.' Here she paused. 'Not a penny-piece in
the world that I can call my own.'

'Oh yes, you have.'

'Nothing. Nothing!'

'You have your aunt's legacy?'

'No; I have not. She left me no legacy. But as that is between you and
me, if we think of marrying each other, that would make no difference.'

'None at all, of course.'

'But in truth I have got nothing. Your mother said something to me
about the Belton estate; as though there was some idea that possibly it
might come to me.'

'Your cousin himself seemed to think so.'

'Frederic, do not let us deceive ourselves. There can be nothing of the
kind. I could not accept any portion of the property from my cousin
even though our marriage were to depend upon it.'

'Of course it does not.'

'But if your means are not sufficient for your wants I am quite ready
to accept that reason as being sufficient for breaking our engagement.'

'There need be nothing of the kind.'

'As for waiting for the death of another person for your mother's
death, I should think it very wrong. Of course, if our engagement
stands there need be no hurry; but some time should be fixed.' Clara as
she said this felt that her face and forehead were suffused with a
blush; but she was determined that it should be said, and the words
were pronounced.

'I quite think so too,' said he.

'I am glad that we agree. Of course, I will leave it to you to fix the
time.'

'You do not mean at this very moment?' said Captain Aylmer, almost
aghast.

'No; I did not mean that.'

'I'll tell you what. I'll make a point of coming down at Easter. I
wasn't sure about it before, but now I will be. And then it shall be
settled.'

Such was the interview; and on the next morning Captain Aylmer started
for London. Clara felt, aware that she had not done or said all that
should have been done and said; but, nevertheless, a step in the right
direction had been taken.


CHAPTER XXVI

THE AYLMER PARK HASHED CHICKEN COMES TO AN END

Easter in this year fell about the middle of April, and it still
wanted three weeks of that time when Captain Aylmer started for London.
Clara was quite alive to the fact that the next three weeks would not
be a happy time for her. She looked forward, indeed, to so much
wretchedness during this period, that the days as they came were not
quite so bad as she had expected them to be. At first Lady Aylmer said
little or nothing to her. It seemed to be agreed between them that
there was to be war, but that there was no necessity for any of the
actual operations of war during the absence of Captain Aylmer. Clara
had become Miss Amedroz again; and though an offer to be driven out in
the carriage was made to her every day, she was in general able to
escape the infliction so that at last it came to be understood that
Miss Amedroz did not like carriage exercise. She has never been used to
it,' said Lady Aylmer to her daughter. 'I suppose not,' said Belinda;
'but if she wasn't so very cross she'd enjoy it just for that reason.'
Clara sometimes walked about the grounds with Belinda, but on such
occasions there was hardly anything that could be called conversation
between them, and Frederic Aylmer's name was never mentioned.

Captain Aylmer had not been gone many days before she received a letter
from her cousin, in which he spoke with absolute certainty of his
intention of giving up the estate. He had, he said, consulted Mr Green,
and the thing was to be done. 'But it will be better, I think,' he went
on to say, 'that I should manage it for you till after your marriage. I
simply mean what I say. You are not to suppose that I shall interfere
in any way afterwards. Of course there will be a settlement, as to
which I hope you will allow me to see Mr Green on your behalf.' In the
first draught of his letter he had inserted a sentence in which he
expressed a wish that the property should be so settled that it might
at last all come to some one bearing the name of Belton. But as he read
this over, the condition for coming from him it would be a condition
seemed to him to be ungenerous, and he expunged it. 'What does it
matter who has it,' he said to himself bitterly, 'or what he is called?
I will never set eyes upon his children, nor yet upon the place when he
has become the master of it.' Clara wrote both to her cousin and to the
lawyer, repeating her assurance with great violence, as Lady Aylmer
would have said that she would have nothing to with the Belton estate.
She told Mr Green that it would be useless for him to draw up any
deeds. 'It can't be made mine unless I choose to have it,' she said,
'and I don't choose to have it.' Then there came upon her a terrible
fear. What if she should marry Captain Aylmer after all; and what if
he, when he should be her husband, should take the property on her
behalf! Something must be done before her marriage to prevent the
possibility of such results something as to the efficacy of which for
such prevention she could feel altogether certain.

But could she marry Captain Aylmer at all in her present mood? During
these three weeks she was unconsciously teaching herself to hope that
she might be relieved from her engagement. She did not love him. She
was becoming aware that she did not love him. She was beginning to
doubt whether, in truth, she had ever loved him. But yet she felt that
she could not, escape from her engagement if he should show himself to.
be really actuated by any fixed purpose to carry it out; nor could she
bring herself to be so weak before Lady Aylmer as to seem to yield. The
necessity of not striking her colours was forced upon her by the
warfare to which she was subjected. She was unhappy, feeling that her
present position in life was bad, and unworthy of her. She could have
brought herself almost to run away from Aylmer Park, as a boy runs away
from school, were it not that she had no place to which to run. She
could not very well make her appearance at Plaistow Hall, and say that
she had come there for shelter and succour. She could, indeed, go to
Mrs Askerton's cottage for awhile; and the more she thought of the
state of her affairs, the more did she feel sure that that would,
before long, be her destiny. It must be her destiny unless Captain
Aylmer should return at Easter with purposes so firmly fixed that even
his mother should not be able to prevail against them.

And now, in these days, circumstances gave her a new friend or perhaps,
rather, a new acquaintance, where she certainly had looked neither for
the one or for the other. Lady Aylmer and Belinda and the carriage and
the horses used, as I have said, to go off without her. This would take
place soon after luncheon. Most of us know how the events of the day
drag themselves on tediously in such a country house as Aylmer Park -a
country house in which people neither read, nor flirt, nor gamble, nor
smoke, nor have resort to the excitement of any special amusement.
Lunch was on the table at half-past one, and the carriage was at the
door at three. Eating and drinking and the putting on of bonnets
occupied the hour and a half. From breakfast to lunch Lady Aylmer, with
her old 'front', would occupy herself with her household accounts. For
some days after Clara's arrival she put on her new 'front' before
lunch; but of late since the long conversation in the carriage the new
'front' did not appear till she came down for the carriage. According
to the theory of her life, she was never to be seen by any but her own
family in her old 'front'. At breakfast she would appear with head so
mysteriously enveloped with such a bewilderment of morning caps that
old 'front' or new 'front' was all the same. When Sir Anthony perceived
this change when he saw that Clara was treated as though she belonged
to Aylmer Park then he told himself that his son's marriage with Miss
Amedroz was to be; and, as Miss Amedroz seemed to him to be a very
pleasant young woman, he would creep out of his own quarters when the
carriage was gone and have a little chat with her being careful to
creep away again before her ladyship's return. This was Clara's new
friend.

'Have you heard from Fred since he has been gone?' the old man asked
one day, when he had come upon Clara still seated in the parlour in
which they had lunched. He had been out, at the front of the house,
scolding the under-gardener; but the man had taken away his barrow and
left him, and Sir Anthony had found himself without employment.

'Only a line to say that he is to be here on the sixteenth.'

'I don't think people write so many love-letters as they did when I was
young,' said Sir Anthony.

'To judge from the novels, I should think not. The old novels used to
be full of love-letters.'

'Fred was never good at writing, I think.'

'Members of Parliament have too much to do, I suppose,' said Clara.

'But he always writes when there is any business. He's a capital man of
business. I wish I could say as much for his brother or for myself.'

'Lady Aylmer seems to like work of that sort.'

'So she does. She's fond of it I am not. I sometimes think that Fred
takes after her. Where was it you first knew him?'

'At Perivale. We used, both of us, to be staying with Mrs Winterfield.'

'Yes, yes; of course. The most natural thing in life. Well, my dear, I
can assure you that I am quite satisfied.'

'Thank you, Sir Anthony. I'm glad to hear you say even as much as that.'

'Of course money is very desirable for a man situated like Fred; but
he'll have enough, and if he is pleased, I am. Personally, as regards
yourself, I am more than pleased. I am indeed.'

'It's very good of you to say so.'

Sir Anthony looked at Clara, and his heart was softened towards her as
he saw that there was a tear in her eye. A man's heart must be very
hard when it does not become softened by the trouble of a woman with
whom he finds himself alone. 'I don't know how you and Lady Aylmer get
on together,' he said; 'but it will not be my fault if we are not
friends.'

'I am afraid that Lady Aylmer does not like me,' said Clara.

'Indeed. I was afraid there was something of that. But you must
remember she is hard to please. You'll find she'll come round in time.'

'She thinks that Captain Aylmer should not marry a woman without money.'

'That's all very well; but I don't see why Fred shouldn't please
himself, He's old enough to know what he wants.'

'Is he, Sir Anthony? That's just the question. I'm not quite sure that
he does know what he wants.'

'Fred doesn't know, do you mean?'

'I don't quite think he does, sir. And the worst of it is, I am in
doubt as well as he.'

'In doubt about marrying him?'

'In doubt whether it will be good for him or for any of us. I don't
like to come into a family that does not desire to have me.'

'You shouldn't think so much of Lady Aylmer as all that, my dear.'

'But I do think a great deal of her.'

'I shall be very glad to have you as a daughter-in-law. And as for Lady
Aylmer between you and me, my dear, you shouldn't take every word she
says so much to heart. She's the best woman in the world, and I'm sure
I'm bound to say so. But she has her temper, you know; and I don't
think you ought to give way to her altogether. There's the carriage. It
won't do you any good if we're found together talking over it all; will
it?' Then the baronet hobbled off, and Lady Aylmer, when she entered
the room, found Clara sitting alone.

Whether it was that the wife was clever enough to extract from her
husband something of the conversation that had passed between him and
Clara, or whether she had some other source of information or whether
her conduct might proceed from other grounds, we need not inquire; but
from that afternoon Lady Aylmer's manner and words to Clara became much
less courteous than they had been before. She would always speak as
though some great iniquity was being committed, and went about the
house with a portentous frown, as though some terrible measure must
soon be taken with the object of putting an end to the present
extremely improper state of things. All this was so manifest to Clara,
that she said to Sir Anthony one day that she could no longer bear the
look of Lady Aylmer's displeasure and that she would be forced to leave
Aylmer Park before Frederic's return, unless the evil were mitigated.
She had by this time told Sir Anthony that she much doubted whether the
marriage would be possible, and that she really believed that it would
be best for all parties that the idea should be abandoned. Sir Anthony,
when he heard this, could only shake his head and hobble away. The
trouble was too deep for him to cure.

But Clara still held on; and now there wanted but two days to Captain
Aylmer's return, when, all suddenly, there arose a terrible storm at
Aylmer Park, and then came a direct and positive quarrel between Lady
Aylmer and Clara a quarrel direct and positive and, on the part of both
ladies, very violent.

Nothing had hitherto been said at Aylmer Park about Mrs Askerton
nothing, that is, since Clara's arrival. And Clara had been thankful
for this silence. The letter which Captain Aylmer had written to her
about Mrs Askerton will perhaps be remembered, and Clara's answer to
that letter. The Aylmer Park opinion as to this poor woman, and as to
Clara's future conduct towards the poor woman, had been expressed very
strongly; and Clara had as strongly resolved that she would not be
guided by Aylmer Park opinions in that matter. She had anticipated much
that was disagreeable on this subject, and had therefore congratulated
herself not a little on the absence of all allusion to it. But Lady
Aylmer had, in truth, kept Mrs Askerton in reserve, as a battery to be
used against Miss Amedroz if all other modes of attack should fail as a
weapon which would be powerful when other weapons had been powerless.
For a while she had thought it possible that Clara might be the owner
of the Belton estate, and then it had been worth the careful mother's
while to be prepared to accept a daughter-in-law so dowered. We have
seen how the question of such ownership had enabled her to put forward
the plea of poverty which she had used on her son's behalf. But since
that, Frederic had declared his intention of marrying the young woman
in spite of his poverty, and Clara seemed to be equally determined. 'He
has been fool enough to speak the word, and she is determined to keep
him to it,' said Lady Aylmer to her daughter. Therefore the Askerton
battery was brought to bear not altogether unsuccessfully.

The three ladies were sitting together in the drawing-room, and had
been as mute as fishes for half an hour. In these sittings they were
generally very silent, speaking only in short little sentences. 'Will
you drive with us today, Miss Amedroz?' 'Not today, I think, Lady
Aylmer.' 'As you are reading, perhaps you won't mind our leaving you?'
'Pray do not put yourself to inconvenience for me, Miss Aylmer,' Such
and such like was their conversation; but on a sudden, after a full
half- hour's positive silence, Lady Aylmer asked a question altogether
of another kind. 'I think, Miss Amedroz, my son wrote to you about a
certain Mrs Askerton?'

Clara put down her work and sat for a moment almost astonished. It was
not only that Lady Aylmer had asked so very disagreeable a question,
but that she had asked it with so peculiar a voice a voice as it were a
command, in a manner that was evidently intended to be taken as
serious, and with a look of authority in her eye, as though she were
resolved that this battery of hers should knock the enemy absolutely in
the dust! Belinda gave a little spring in her chair, looked intently at
her work, and went on stitching faster than before. 'Yes, he did,' said
Clara, finding that an answer was imperatively demanded from her.

'It was quite necessary that he should write. I believe it to be an
undoubted fact that Mrs Askerton is is is not at all what she ought to
be.'

'Which of us is what we ought to be?' said Clara.

'Miss Amedroz, on this subject I am not at all inclined to joke. Is it
not true that Mrs Askerton'

'You must excuse me, Lady Aylmer, but what I know of Mrs Askerton, I
know altogether in confidence; so that I cannot speak to you of her
past life.'

'But, Miss Amedroz, pray excuse me if I say that I must speak of it.
When I remember the position in which you do us the honour of being our
visitor here, how can I help speaking of it?' Belinda was stitching
very hard, and would not even raise her eyes. Clara, who still held her
needle in her hand, resumed her work, and for a moment or two made no
further answer. But Lady Aylmer had by no means completed her task.
'Miss Amedroz,' she said, 'you must allow me to judge for myself in
this matter. The subject is one on which I feel myself obliged to speak
to you.'

'But I have got nothing to say about it.'

'You have, I believe, admitted the truth of the allegations made by us
as to this woman.' Clara was becoming very angry. A red spot showed
itself on each cheek, and a frown settled upon her brow. She did not as
yet know what she would say or how she would conduct herself. She was
striving to consider how best she might assert her own independence.
But she was fully determined that in this matter she would not bend an
inch to Lady Aylmer. 'I believe we may take that as admitted?', said
her ladyship.

'I am not aware that I have admitted anything to you, Lady Aylmer, or
said anything that can justify you in questioning me on the subject.'

'Justify me in questioning a young woman who tells me that she is to be
my future daughter-in-law!'

'I have not told you so. I have never told you anything of the kind.'

'Then on what footing, Miss Amedroz, do you do us the honour of being
with us here at Aylmer Park?'

'On a very foolish footing.'

'On a foolish footing! What does that mean?'

'It means that I have been foolish in coming to a house in which I am
subjected to such questioning.'

'Belinda, did you ever hear anything like this? Miss Amedroz, I must
persevere, however much you may dislike it. The story of this woman's
life whether she be Mrs Askerton or not, I don't know'

'She is Mrs Askerton,' said Clara.

'As to that I do not profess to know, and I dare say that you are no
wiser than myself. But what she has been we do know.' Here Lady Aylmer
raised her voice and continued to speak with all the eloquence which
assumed indignation could give her. 'What she has been we do know, and
I ask you, as a duty which I own to my son, whether you have put an end
to your acquaintance with so very disreputable a person a person whom
even to have known is a disgrace?'

'I know her, and'

'Stop one minute, if you please. My questions are these Have you put an
end to that acquaintance? Are you ready to give a promise that it shall
never be resumed?

'I have not put an end to that acquaintance or rather that affectionate
friendship as I should call it, and I am ready to promise that it shall
be maintained with all my heart.'

'Belinda, do you hear her?'

'Yes, mamma.' And Belinda slowly shook her head, which was now bowed
lower than ever over her lap.

'And that is your resolution?'

'Yes, Lady Aylmer; that is my resolution.'

'And you think that becoming to you, as a young woman?'

'Just so; I think that becoming to me as a young woman.'

'Then let me tell you, Miss Amedroz, that I differ from you altogether
altogether.' Lady Aylmer, as she repeated the last word, raised her
folded hands as though she were calling upon heaven to witness how
thoroughly she differed from the young woman!

'I don't see how I am to help that, Lady Aylmer. I dare say we may
differ on many subjects.'

'I dare say we do. I dare say we do. And I need not point out to you
how very little that would be a matter of regret to me but for the hold
you have upon my unfortunate son.'

'Hold upon him, Lady Aylmer! How dare you insult me by such language?'
Hereupon Belinda again jumped in her chair; but Lady Aylmer looked as
though she enjoyed the storm.

'You undoubtedly have a hold upon him, Miss Amedroz, and I think that
it is a great misfortune. Of course, when he hears what your conduct is
with reference to this person, he will release himself from his
entanglement.'

'He can release himself from his entanglement whenever he chooses,'
said Clara, rising from her chair. 'Indeed, he is released. I shall let
Captain Aylmer know that our engagement must be at an end, unless he
will promise that I shall never in future be subjected to the
unwarrantable insolence of his mother.' Then she walked off to the
door, not regarding, and indeed not hearing, the parting shot that was
fired at her.

And now what was to be done! Clara went up to her own room, making
herself strong and even comfortable, with an inward assurance that
nothing should ever induce her even to sit down to table again with
Lady Aylmer. She would not willingly enter the same room with Lady
Aylmer, or have any speech with her. But what should she at once do?
She could not very well leave Aylmer Park without settling whither she
would go; nor could she in any way manage to leave the house on that
afternoon. She almost resolved that she would go to Mrs Askerton.
Everything was of course over between her and Captain Aylmer, and
therefore there was no longer any hindrance to her doing so on that
score. But what would be her Cousin Will's wish? He, now, was the only
friend to whom she could trust for good counsel. What would be his
advice? Should she write and ask him? No she could not do that. She
could not bring herself to write to him, telling him that the Aylmer
'entanglement' was at an end. Were she to do so, he, with his
temperament, would take such letter as meaning much more than it was
intended to mean. But she would write a letter to Captain Aylmer. This
she thought that she would do at once, and she began it.

She got as far as 'My dear Captain Aylmer,' and then she found that the
letter was one which could not be written very easily. And she
remembered, as the greatness of the difficulty of writing the letter
became plain to her, that it could not now be sent so as to reach
Captain Aylmer before he would leave London. If written at all, it must
be addressed to him at Aylmer Park, and the task might be done tomorrow
as well as today. So that task was given up for the present.

But she did write a letter to Mrs Askerton a letter which she would
send or not on the morrow, according to the state of her mind as it
might then be. In this she declared her purpose of leaving Aylmer Park
on the day after Captain Aylmer's arrival, and asked to be taken in at
the cottage. An answer was to be sent to her, addressed to the Great
Northern Railway Hotel.

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33

The 10 Best Books of 2008
The Book Review picks the best works from the last year.

ArtsBeat: Major Reorganization at Random House
The shakeup at the world’s largest publisher of consumer books includes the resignations of two top executives.

Books of The Times: The Days of Their Lives: Lesbians Star in Funny Pages
This anthology of Alison Bechdel’s weekly comic strip follows an articulate group of lesbians through more than 20 years of daily life, with plenty of sex and politics along the way.

Copyright (c) 2007. fullbooks.net. All rights reserved.