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Anthony Trollope - "The Small House at Allington"

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Evan Harrington, Complete

G >> George Meredith >> Evan Harrington, Complete




Susan's half-controlled spasms here got the better of her.

While Evan was awaiting the return of her calmer senses, the latch was
lifted, and Polly appeared.

'At it again!' was her sneering comment, after a short survey of her
apron-screened sister; and then she bobbed to Evan.

'It's whimper, whimper, and squeak, squeak, half their lives with some
girls. After that they go wondering they can't see to thread a needle!
The neighbours, I suppose. I should like to lift the top off some o'
their houses. I hope I haven't kept you, sir.'

'No, Polly,' said Evan; 'but you must be charitable, or I shall think you
want a lesson yourself. Mr. Raikes tells me you want to see me. What is
it? You seem to be correspondents.'

Polly replied: 'Oh, no, Mr. Harrington: only accidental ones--when
something particular's to be said. And he dances-like on the paper, so
that you can't help laughing. Isn't he a very eccentric gentleman, sir?'

'Very,' said Evan. 'I 've no time to lose, Polly.'

'Here, you must go,' the latter called to her sister. 'Now pack at once,
Sue. Do rout out, and do leave off thinking you've got a candle at your
eyes, for Goodness' sake!'

Susan was too well accustomed to Polly's usage to complain. She murmured
a gentle 'Good night, sir,' and retired. Whereupon Polly exclaimed:
'Bless her poor dear soft heart! It 's us hard ones that get on best in
the world. I'm treated better than her, Mr. Harrington, and I know I
ain't worth half of her. It goes nigh to make one religious, only to see
how exactly like Scripture is the way Beckley treats her, whose only sin
is her being so soft as to believe in a man! Oh, dear! Mr. Harrington! I
wish I had good news for you.'

In spite of all his self-control, Evan breathed quickly and looked
eagerly.

'Speak it out, Polly.'

'Oh, dear! I must, I suppose,' Polly answered. 'Mr. Laxley's become a
lord now, Mr. Harrington.'

Evan tasted in his soul the sweets of contrast. 'Well?'

'And my Miss Rose--she--'

'What?'

Moved by the keen hunger of his eyes, Polly hesitated. Her face betrayed
a sudden change of mind.

'Wants to see you, sir,' she said, resolutely.

'To see me?'

Evan stood up, so pale that Polly was frightened.

'Where is she? Where can I meet her?'

'Please don't take it so, Mr. Harrington.'

Evan commanded her to tell him what her mistress had said.

Now up to this point Polly had spoken truth. She was positive her
mistress did want to see him. Polly, also, with a maiden's tender guile,
desired to bring them together for once, though it were for the last
time, and for no good on earth. She had been about to confide to him her
young mistress's position toward Lord Laxley, when his sharp
interrogation stopped her. Shrinking from absolute invention, she
remarked that of course she could not exactly remember Miss Rose's words;
which seemed indeed too much to expect of her.

'She will see me to-night?' said Evan.

'I don't know about to-night,' Polly replied.

'Go to her instantly. Tell her I am ready. I will be at the West
park-gates. This is why you wrote, Polly? Why did you lose time? Don't
delay, my good girl! Come!'

Evan had opened the door. He would not allow Polly an instant for
expostulation; but drew her out, saying, 'You will attend to the gates
yourself. Or come and tell me the day, if she appoints another.'

Polly made a final effort to escape from the pit she was being pushed
into.

'Mr. Harrington! it wasn't to tell you this I wrote.

Miss Rose is engaged, sir.'

'I understand,' said Evan, hoarsely, scarcely feeling it, as is the case
with men who are shot through the heart.

Ten minutes later he was on horseback by the Fallow field gates, with the
tidings shrieking through his frame. The night was still, and stiller in
the pauses of the nightingales. He sat there, neither thinking of them
nor reproached in his manhood for the tears that rolled down his cheeks.
Presently his horse's ears pricked, and the animal gave a low neigh.
Evan's eyes fixed harder on the length of gravel leading to the house.
There was no sign, no figure. Out from the smooth grass of the lane a
couple of horsemen issued, and came straight to the gates. He heard
nothing till one spoke. It was a familiar voice.

'By Jove, Ferdy, here is the fellow, and we've been all the way to
Lymport!'

Evan started from his trance.

'It 's you, Harrington?'

'Yes, Harry.'

'Sir!' exclaimed that youth, evidently flushed with wine, 'what the devil
do you mean by addressing me by my Christian name?'

Laxley pushed his horse's head in front of Harry. In a manner apparently
somewhat improved by his new dignity, he said: 'We have ridden to Lymport
to speak to you, sir. Favour me by moving a little ahead of the lodge.'

Evan bowed, and moved beside him a short way down the lane, Harry
following.

'The purport of my visit, sir,' Laxley began, 'was to make known to you
that Miss Jocelyn has done me the honour to accept me as her husband. I
learn from her that during the term of your residence in the house, you
contrived to extract from her a promise to which she attaches certain
scruples. She pleases to consider herself bound to you till you release
her. My object is to demand that you will do so immediately.'

There was no reply.

'Should you refuse to make this reparation for the harm you have done to
her and her family,' Laxley pursued, 'I must let you know that there are
means of compelling you to it, and that those means will be employed.'

Harry, fuming at these postured sentences, burst out:

'What do you talk to the fellow in that way for? A fellow who makes a
fool of my cousin, and then wants to get us to buy off my sister! What's
he spying after here? The place is ours till we troop. I tell you there's
only one way of dealing with him, and if you don't do it, I will.'

Laxley pulled his reins with a jerk that brought him to the rear.

'Miss Jocelyn has commissioned you to make this demand on me in her
name?' said Evan.

'I make it in my own right,' returned--Laxley. 'I demand a prompt reply.'

'My lord, you shall have it. Miss Jocelyn is not bound to me by any
engagement. Should she entertain scruples which I may have it in my power
to obliterate, I shall not hesitate to do so--but only to her. What has
passed between us I hold sacred.'

'Hark at that!' shouted Harry. 'The damned tradesman means money! You
ass, Ferdinand! What did we go to Lymport for? Not to bandy words. Here!
I've got my own quarrel with you, Harrington. You've been setting that
girl's father on me. Can you deny that?'

It was enough for Harry that Evan did not deny it. The calm disdain which
he read on Evan's face acted on his fury, and digging his heels into his
horse's flanks he rushed full at him and dealt him a sharp flick with his
whip. Evan's beast reared.

'Accept my conditions, sir, or afford me satisfaction,' cried Laxley.

'You do me great honour, my lord; but I have told you I cannot,' said
Evan, curbing his horse.

At that moment Rose came among them. Evan raised his hat, as did Laxley.
Harry, a little behind the others, performed a laborious mock salute, and
then ordered her back to the house. A quick altercation ensued; the end
being that Harry managed to give his sister the context of the previous
conversation.

'Now go back, Rose,' said Laxley. 'I have particular business with Mr.
Harrington.'

'I came to see him,' said Rose, in a clear voice.

Laxley reddened angrily.

'Then tell him at once you want to be rid of him,' her brother called to
her.

Rose looked at Evan. Could he not see that she had no word in her soul
for him of that kind? Yes: but love is not always to be touched to
tenderness even at the sight of love.

'Rose,' he said, 'I hear from Lord Laxley, that you fancy yourself not at
liberty; and that you require me to disengage you.'

He paused. Did he expect her to say there that she wished nothing of the
sort? Her stedfast eyes spoke as much: but misery is wanton, and will
pull all down to it. Even Harry was checked by his tone, and Laxley sat
silent. The fact that something more than a tailor was speaking seemed to
impress them.

'Since I have to say it, Rose, I hold you in no way bound to me. The
presumption is forced upon me. May you have all the happiness I pray God
to give you.

Gentlemen, good night!'

He bowed and was gone. How keenly she could have retorted on that false
prayer for her happiness! Her limbs were nerveless, her tongue
speechless. He had thrown her off--there was no barrier now between
herself and Ferdinand. Why did Ferdinand speak to her with that air of
gentle authority, bidding her return to the house? She was incapable of
seeing, what the young lord acutely felt, that he had stooped very much
in helping to bring about such a scene. She had no idea of having trifled
with him and her own heart, when she talked feebly of her bondage to
another, as one who would be warmer to him were she free. Swiftly she
compared the two that loved her, and shivered as if she had been tossed
to the embrace of a block of ice.

'You are cold, Rose,' said Laxley, bending to lay his hand on her
shoulder.

'Pray, never touch me,' she answered, and walked on hastily to the house.

Entering it, she remembered that Evan had dwelt there. A sense of
desolation came over her. She turned to Ferdinand remorsefully, saying:
'Dear Ferdinand!' and allowed herself to be touched and taken close to
him. When she reached her bed-room, she had time to reflect that he had
kissed her on the lips, and then she fell down and shed such tears as had
never been drawn from her before.

Next day she rose with an undivided mind. Belonging henceforth to
Ferdinand, it was necessary that she should invest him immediately with
transcendent qualities. The absence of character in him rendered this
easy. What she had done for Evan, she did for him. But now, as if the
Fates had been lying in watch to entrap her and chain her, that they
might have her at their mercy, her dreams of Evan's high nature--hitherto
dreams only--were to be realized. With the purposeless waywardness of her
sex, Pony Wheedle, while dressing her young mistress, and though quite
aware that the parting had been spoken, must needs relate her sister's
story and Evan's share in it. Rose praised him like one forever aloof
from him. Nay, she could secretly congratulate herself on not being
deceived. Upon that came a letter from Caroline:

'Do not misjudge my brother. He knew Juliana's love for him and rejected
it. You will soon have proofs of his disinterestedness. Then do not
forget that he works to support us all. I write this with no hope save to
make you just to him. That is the utmost he will ever anticipate.'

It gave no beating of the heart to Rose to hear good of Evan now: but an
increased serenity of confidence in the accuracy of her judgement of
persons.

The arrival of Lawyer Perkins supplied the key to Caroline's
communication. No one was less astonished than Rose at the news that Evan
renounced the estate. She smiled at Harry's contrite stupefaction, and
her father's incapacity of belief in conduct so singular, caused her to
lift her head and look down on her parent.

'Shows he knows nothing of the world, poor young fellow!' said Sir
Franks.

'Nothing more clearly,' observed Lady Jocelyn. 'I presume I shall cease
to be blamed for having had him here?'

'Upon my honour, he must have the soul of a gentleman!' said the baronet.
'There's nothing he can expect in return, you know!'

'One would think, Papa, you had always been dealing with tradesmen!'
remarked Rose, to whom her father now accorded the treatment due to a
sensible girl.

Laxley was present at the family consultation. What was his opinion? Rose
manifested a slight anxiety to hear it.

'What those sort of fellows do never surprises me,' he said, with a
semi-yawn.

Rose felt fire on her cheeks.

'It's only what the young man is bound to do,' said Mrs. Shorne.

'His duty, aunt? I hope we may all do it!' Rose interjected.

'Championing him again?'

Rose quietly turned her face, too sure of her cold appreciation of him to
retort. But yesterday night a word from him might have made her his; and
here she sat advocating the nobility of his nature with the zeal of a
barrister in full swing of practice. Remember, however, that a kiss
separates them: and how many millions of leagues that counts for in love,
in a pure girl's thought, I leave you to guess.

Now, in what way was Evan to be thanked? how was he to be treated? Sir
Franks proposed to go down to him in person, accompanied by Harry. Lady
Jocelyn acquiesced. But Rose said to her mother:

'Will not you wound his sensitiveness by going to him there?'

'Possibly,' said her ladyship. 'Shall we write and ask him to come to
us?'

'No, Mama. Could we ask him to make a journey to receive our thanks?'

'Not till we have solid ones to offer, perhaps.'

'He will not let us help him, Mama, unless we have all given him our
hands.'

'Probably not. There's always a fund of nonsense in those who are capable
of great things, I observe. It shall be a family expedition, if you
like.'

'What!' exclaimed Mrs. Shorne. 'Do you mean that you intend to allow Rose
to make one of the party? Franks! is that your idea?'

Sir Franks looked at his wife.

'What harm?' Lady Jocelyn asked; for Rose's absence of conscious guile in
appealing to her reason had subjugated that great faculty.

'Simply a sense of propriety, Emily,' said Mrs. Shorne, with a glance at
Ferdinand.

'You have no objection, I suppose!' Lady Jocelyn addressed him.

'Ferdinand will join us,' said Rose.

'Thank you, Rose, I'd rather not,' he replied. 'I thought we had done
with the fellow for good last night.'

'Last night?' quoth Lady Jocelyn.

No one spoke. The interrogation was renewed. Was it Rose's swift instinct
which directed her the shortest way to gain her point? or that she was
glad to announce that her degrading engagement was at an end? She said:

'Ferdinand and Mr. Harrington came to an understanding last night, in my
presence.'

That, strange as it struck on their ears, appeared to be quite sufficient
to all, albeit the necessity for it was not so very clear. The carriage
was ordered forthwith; Lady Jocelyn went to dress; Rose drew Ferdinand
away into the garden. Then, with all her powers, she entreated him to
join her.

'Thank you, Rose,' he said; 'I have no taste for the genus.'

'For my sake, I beg it, Ferdinand.'

'It's really too much to ask of me, Rose.'

'If you care for me, you will.'

''Pon my honour, quite impossible!'

'You refuse, Ferdinand?'

'My London tailor 'd find me out, and never forgive me.'

This pleasantry stopped her soft looks. Why she wished him to be with
her, she could not have said. For a thousand reasons: which implies no
distinct one something prophetically pressing in her blood.




CHAPTER XLVI

A LOVERS' PARTING

Now, to suppose oneself the fashioner of such a chain of events as this
which brought the whole of the Harrington family in tender unity together
once more, would have elated an ordinary mind. But to the Countess de
Saldar, it was simply an occasion for reflecting that she had
misunderstood--and could most sincerely forgive--Providence. She admitted
to herself that it was not entirely her work; for she never would have
had their place of meeting to be the Shop. Seeing, however, that her end
was gained, she was entitled to the credit of it, and could pardon the
means adopted. Her brother lord of Beckley Court, and all of them
assembled in the old 193, Main Street, Lymport! What matter for proud
humility! Providence had answered her numerous petitions, but in its own
way. Stipulating that she must swallow this pill, Providence consented to
serve her. She swallowed it with her wonted courage. In half an hour
subsequent to her arrival at Lymport, she laid siege to the heart of Old
Tom Cogglesby, whom she found installed in the parlour, comfortably
sipping at a tumbler of rum-and-water. Old Tom was astonished to meet
such an agreeable unpretentious woman, who talked of tailors and lords
with equal ease, appeared to comprehend a man's habits instinctively, and
could amuse him while she ministered to them.

'Can you cook, ma'am?' asked Old Tom.

'All but that,' said the Countess, with a smile of sweet meaning.

'Ha! then you won't suit me as well as your mother.'

'Take care you do not excite my emulation,' she returned, graciously,
albeit disgusted at his tone.

To Harriet, Old Tom had merely nodded. There he sat, in the arm-chair,
sucking the liquor, with the glimpse of a sour chuckle on his cheeks. Now
and then, during the evening, he rubbed his hands sharply, but spoke
little. The unbending Harriet did not conceal her disdain of him. When he
ventured to allude to the bankruptcy, she cut him short.

'Pray, excuse me--I am unacquainted with affairs of business--I cannot
even understand my husband.'

'Lord bless my soul!' Old Tom exclaimed, rolling his eyes.

Caroline had informed her sisters up-stairs that their mother was
ignorant of Evan's change of fortune, and that Evan desired her to
continue so for the present. Caroline appeared to be pained by the
subject, and was glad when Louisa sounded his mysterious behaviour by
saying:

'Evan has a native love of concealment--he must be humoured.'

At the supper, Mr. Raikes made his bow. He was modest and reserved. It
was known that this young gentleman acted as shopman there. With a
tenderness for his position worthy of all respect, the Countess spared
his feelings by totally ignoring his presence; whereat he, unaccustomed
to such great-minded treatment, retired to bed, a hater of his kind.
Harriet and Caroline went next. The Countess said she would wait up for
Evan, but hearing that his hours of return were about the chimes of
matins, she cried exultingly: 'Darling Papa all over!' and departed
likewise. Mrs. Mel, when she had mixed Old Tom's third glass, wished the
brothers good night, and they were left to exchange what sentiments they
thought proper for the occasion. The Countess had certainly, disappointed
Old Tom's farce, in a measure; and he expressed himself puzzled by her.
'You ain't the only one,' said his brother. Andrew, with some effort,
held his tongue concerning the news of Evan--his fortune and his folly,
till he could talk to the youth in person.

All took their seats at the early breakfast next morning.

'Has Evan not come--home yet?' was the Countess's first question.

Mrs. Mel replied, 'No.'

'Do you know where he has gone, dear Mama?'

'He chooses his own way.'

'And you fear that it leads somewhere?' added the Countess.

'I fear that it leads to knocking up the horse he rides.'

'The horse, Mama! He is out on a horse all night! But don't you see, dear
old pet! his morals, at least, are safe on horseback.'

'The horse has to be paid for, Louisa,' said her mother, sternly; and
then, for she had a lesson to read to the guests of her son, 'Ready money
doesn't come by joking. What will the creditors think? If he intends to
be honest in earnest, he must give up four-feet mouths.'

'Fourteen-feet, ma'am, you mean,' said Old Tom, counting the heads at
table.

'Bravo, Mama!' cried the Countess, and as she was sitting near her
mother, she must show how prettily she kissed, by pouting out her playful
lips to her parent. 'Do be economical always! And mind! for the sake of
the wretched animals, I will intercede for you to be his inspector of
stables.'

This, with a glance of intelligence at her sisters.

'Well, Mr. Raikes,' said Andrew, 'you keep good hours, at all
events--eh?'

'Up with the lark,' said Old Tom. 'Ha! 'fraid he won't be so early when
he gets rid of his present habits--eh?'

'Nec dierum numerum, ut nos, sed noctium computant,' said Mr. Raikes, and
both the brothers sniffed like dogs that have put their noses to a hot
coal, and the Countess, who was less insensible to the aristocracy of the
dead languages than are women generally, gave him the recognition that is
occasionally afforded the family tutor.

About the hour of ten Evan arrived. He was subjected to the hottest
embrace he had ever yet received from his sister Louisa.

'Darling!' she called him before them all. 'Oh! how I suffer for this
ignominy I see you compelled for a moment to endure. But it is but for a
moment. They must vacate; and you will soon be out of this horrid hole.'

'Where he just said he was glad to give us a welcome,' muttered Old Tom.

Evan heard him, and laughed. The Countess laughed too.

'No, we will not be impatient. We are poor insignificant people!' she
said; and turning to her mother, added: 'And yet I doubt not you think
the smallest of our landed gentry equal to great continental seigneurs. I
do not say the contrary.'

'You will fill Evan's head with nonsense till you make him knock up a
horse a week, and never go to his natural bed,' said Mrs. Mel, angrily.
'Look at him! Is a face like that fit for business?'

'Certainly, certainly not!' said the Countess.

'Well, Mother, the horse is dismissed,--you won't have to complain any
more,' said Evan, touching her hand. 'Another history commences from
to-day.'

The Countess watched him admiringly. Such powers of acting she could not
have ascribed to him.

'Another history, indeed!' she said. 'By the way, Van, love! was it out
of Glamorganshire--were we Tudors, according to Papa? or only Powys
chieftains? It's of no moment, but it helps one in conversation.'

'Not half so much as good ale, though!' was Old Tom's comment.

The Countess did not perceive its fitness, till Evan burst into a laugh,
and then she said:

'Oh! we shall never be ashamed of the Brewery. Do not fear that, Mr.
Cogglesby.'

Old Tom saw his farce reviving, and encouraged the Countess to patronize
him. She did so to an extent that called on her Mrs. Mel's reprobation,
which was so cutting and pertinent, that Harriet was compelled to defend
her sister, remarking that perhaps her mother would soon learn that
Louisa was justified in not permitting herself and family to be classed
too low. At this Andrew, coming from a private interview with Evan, threw
up his hands and eyes as one who foretold astonishment but counselled
humility. What with the effort of those who knew a little to imply a
great deal; of those who knew all to betray nothing; and of those who
were kept in ignorance to strain a fact out of the conflicting innuendos
the general mystification waxed apace, and was at its height, when a name
struck on Evan's ear that went through his blood like a touch of the
torpedo.

He had been called into the parlour to assist at a consultation over the
Brewery affairs. Raikes opened the door, and announced, 'Sir Franks and
Lady Jocelyn.'

Them he could meet, though it was hard for his pride to pardon their
visit to him there. But when his eyes discerned Rose behind them, the
passions of his lower nature stood up armed. What could she have come for
but to humiliate, or play with him?

A very few words enabled the Countess to guess the cause for this visit.
Of course, it was to beg time! But they thanked Evan. For something
generous, no doubt.

Sir Franks took him aside, and returning remarked to his wife that she
perhaps would have greater influence with him. All this while Rose sat
talking to Mrs. Andrew Cogglesby, Mrs. Strike, and Evan's mother. She saw
by his face the offence she had committed, and acted on by one of her
impulses, said: 'Mama, I think if I were to speak to Mr. Harrington--'

Ere her mother could make light of the suggestion, Old Tom had jumped up,
and bowed out his arm.

'Allow me to conduct ye to the drawing room, upstairs, young lady. He'll
follow, safe enough!'

Rose had not stipulated for that. Nevertheless, seeing no cloud on her
mother's face, or her father's, she gave Old Tom her hand, and awaited a
movement from Evan. It was too late to object to it on either side. Old
Tom had caught the tide at the right instant. Much as if a grim old genie
had planted them together, the lovers found themselves alone.

'Evan, you forgive me?' she began, looking up at him timidly.

'With all my heart, Rose,' he answered, with great cheerfulness.

'No. I know your heart better. Oh, Evan! you must be sure that we respect
you too much to wound you. We came to thank you for your generosity. Do
you refuse to accept anything from us? How can we take this that you
thrust on us, unless in some way--'

'Say no more,' he interposed. 'You see me here. You know me as I am,
now.'

'Yes, yes!' the tears stood in her eyes. 'Why did I come, you would ask?
That is what you cannot forgive! I see now how useless it was. Evan! why
did you betray me?'

'Betray you, Rose?'

'You said that you loved me once.'

She was weeping, and all his spirit melted, and his love cried out: 'I
said "till death," and till death it will be, Rose.'

'Then why, why did you betray me, Evan? I know it all. But if you
blackened yourself to me, was it not because you loved something better
than me? And now you think me false! Which of us two has been false? It
's silly to talk of these things now too late! But be just. I wish that
we may be friends. Can we, unless you bend a little?'

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