SHEWING WHAT NORA ROWLEY THOUGHT ABOUT CARRIAGES.
Sir Marmaduke, on his return home from Dr. Turbury's house, found
that he had other domestic troubles on hand over and above those
arising from his elder daughter's position. Mr. Hugh Stanbury had
been in Manchester Street during his absence, and had asked for him,
and, finding that he was away from home, had told his story to Lady
Rowley. When he had been shown up-stairs all the four daughters had
been with their mother; but he had said a word or two signifying his
desire to speak to Lady Rowley, and the three girls had left the
room. In this way it came to pass that he had to plead his cause
before Nora's mother and her elder sister. He had pleaded it well,
and Lady Rowley's heart had been well disposed towards him; but when
she asked of his house and his home, his answer had been hardly more
satisfactory than that of Alan-a-Dale. There was little that he
could call his own beyond "The blue vault of heaven." Had he saved
any money? No,--not a shilling;--that was to say,--as he himself
expressed it,--nothing that could be called money. He had a few
pounds by him, just to go on with. What was his income? Well--last
year he had made four hundred pounds, and this year he hoped to make
something more. He thought he could see his way plainly to five
hundred a year. Was it permanent; and if not, on what did it depend?
He believed it to be as permanent as most other professional incomes,
but was obliged to confess that, as regarded the source from whence
it was drawn at the present moment, it might be brought to an abrupt
end any day by a disagreement between himself and the editor of the
D. R. Did he think that this was a fixed income? He did think that if
he and the editor of the D. R. were to fall out, he could come across
other editors who would gladly employ him. Would he himself feel safe
in giving his own sister to a man with such an income? In answer to
this question, he started some rather bold doctrines on the subject
of matrimony in general, asserting that safety was not desirable,
that energy, patience, and mutual confidence would be increased by
the excitement of risk, and that in his opinion it behoved young men
and young women to come together and get themselves married, even
though there might be some not remote danger of distress before them.
He admitted that starvation would be disagreeable,--especially for
children, in the eyes of their parents,--but alleged that children
as a rule were not starved, and quoted the Scripture to prove that
honest laborious men were not to be seen begging their bread in
the streets. He was very eloquent, but his eloquence itself was
against him. Both Lady Rowley and Mrs. Trevelyan were afraid of such
advanced opinions; and, although everything was of course to be left,
nominally, to the decision of Sir Marmaduke, they both declared that
they could not recommend Sir Marmaduke to consent. Lady Rowley said
a word as to the expediency of taking Nora back with her to the
Mandarins, pointing out what appeared to her then to be the necessity
of taking Mrs. Trevelyan with them also; and in saying this she
hinted that if Nora were disposed to stand by her engagement, and
Mr. Stanbury equally so disposed, there might be some possibility
of a marriage at a future period. Only in such case, there must be
no correspondence. In answer to this Hugh declared that he regarded
such a scheme as being altogether bad. The Mandarins were so very far
distant that he might as well be engaged to an angel in heaven. Nora,
if she were to go away now, would perhaps never come back again; and
if she did come back, would be an old woman, with hollow cheeks. In
replying to this proposition, he let fall an opinion that Nora was
old enough to judge for herself. He said nothing about her actual
age, and did not venture to plead that the young lady had a legal
right to do as she liked with herself; but he made it manifest that
such an idea was in his mind. In answer to this, Lady Rowley asserted
that Nora was a good girl, and would do as her father told her; but
she did not venture to assert that Nora would give up her engagement.
Lady Rowley at last undertook to speak to Sir Rowley, and to speak
also to her daughter. Hugh was asked for his address, and gave that
of the office of the D. R. He was always to be found there between
three and five; and after that, four times a week, in the reporters'
gallery of the House of Commons. Then he was at some pains to explain
to Lady Rowley that though he attended the reporters' gallery, he
did not report himself. It was his duty to write leading political
articles, and, to enable him to do so, he attended the debates.
Before he went Mrs. Trevelyan thanked him most cordially for the
trouble he had taken in procuring for her the address at Willesden,
and gave him some account of the journey which she and her mother
had made to River's Cottage. He argued with both of them that the
unfortunate man must now be regarded as being altogether out of his
mind, and something was said as to the great wisdom and experience of
Dr. Trite Turbury. Then Hugh Stanbury took his leave; and even Lady
Rowley bade him adieu with kind cordiality. "I don't wonder, mamma,
that Nora should like him," said Mrs. Trevelyan.
"That is all very well, my dear, and no doubt he is pleasant, and
manly, and all that;--but really it would be almost like marrying a
beggar."
"For myself," said Mrs. Trevelyan, "if I could begin life again, I do
not think that any temptation would induce me to place myself in a
man's power."
Sir Marmaduke was told of all this on his return home, and he asked
many questions as to the nature of Stanbury's work. When it was
explained to him,--Lady Rowley repeating as nearly as she could all
that Hugh had himself said about it, he expressed his opinion that
writing for a penny newspaper was hardly more safe as a source of
income than betting on horse races. "I don't see that it is wrong,"
said Mrs. Trevelyan.
"I say nothing about wrong. I simply assert that it is uncertain. The
very existence of such a periodical must in itself be most insecure."
Sir Marmaduke, amidst the cares of his government at the Mandarins,
had, perhaps, had no better opportunity of watching what was going on
in the world of letters than had fallen to the lot of Miss Stanbury
at Exeter.
"I think your papa is right," said Lady Rowley.
"Of course I am right. It is out of the question; and so Nora must
be told." He had as yet heard nothing about Mr. Glascock. Had that
misfortune been communicated to him his cup would indeed have been
filled with sorrow to overflowing.
In the evening Nora was closeted with her father. "Nora, my dear,
you must understand, once and for all, that this cannot be," said
Sir Marmaduke. The Governor, when he was not disturbed by outward
circumstances, could assume a good deal of personal dignity, and
could speak, especially to his children, with an air of indisputable
authority.
"What can't be, papa?" said Nora.
Sir Marmaduke perceived at once that there was no indication of
obedience in his daughter's voice, and he prepared himself for
battle. He conceived himself to be very strong, and thought that his
objections were so well founded that no one would deny their truth
and that his daughter had not a leg to stand on. "This, that your
mamma tells me of about Mr. Stanbury. Do you know, my dear, that he
has not a shilling in the world?"
"I know that he has no fortune, papa,--if you mean that."
"And no profession either;--nothing that can be called a profession.
I do not wish to argue it, my dear, because there is no room for
argument. The whole thing is preposterous. I cannot but think ill
of him for having proposed it to you; for he must have known,--must
have known, that a young man without an income cannot be accepted as
a fitting suitor for a gentleman's daughter. As for yourself, I can
only hope that you will get the little idea out of your head very
quickly;--but mamma will speak to you about that. What I want you to
understand from me is this,--that there must be an end to it."
Nora listened to this speech in perfect silence, standing before her
father, and waiting patiently till the last word of it should be
pronounced. Even when he had finished she still paused before she
answered him. "Papa," she said at last, and hesitated again before
she went on.
"Well, my dear."
"I can not give it up."
"But you must give it up."
[Illustration: "But you must give it up," said Sir Marmaduke.]
"No, papa. I would do anything I could for you and mamma, but that is
impossible."
"Why is it impossible?"
"Because I love him so dearly."
"That is nonsense. That is what all girls say when they choose to
run against their parents. I tell you that it shall be given up. I
will not have him here. I forbid you to see him. It is quite out of
the question that you should marry such a man. I do hope, Nora, that
you are not going to add to mamma's difficulties and mine by being
obstinate and disobedient." He paused a moment, and then added, "I do
not think that there is anything more to be said."
"Papa."
"My dear, I think you had better say nothing further about it. If you
cannot bring yourself at the present moment to promise that there
shall be an end of it, you had better hold your tongue. You have
heard what I say, and you have heard what mamma says. I do not for
a moment suppose that you dream of carrying on a communication with
this gentleman in opposition to our wishes."
"But I do."
"Do what?"
"Papa, you had better listen to me." Sir Marmaduke, when he heard
this, assumed an air of increased authority, in which he intended
that paternal anger should be visible; but he seated himself, and
prepared to receive, at any rate, some of the arguments with which
Nora intended to bolster up her bad cause. "I have promised Mr.
Stanbury that I will be his wife."
"That is all nonsense."
"Do listen to me, papa. I have listened to you and you ought to
listen to me. I have promised him, and I must keep my promise. I
shall keep my promise if he wishes it. There is a time when a girl
must be supposed to know what is best for herself,--just as there is
for a man."
"I never heard such stuff in all my life. Do you mean that you'll go
out and marry him like a beggar, with nothing but what you stand up
in, with no friend to be with you, an outcast, thrown off by your
mother,--with your father's--curse?"
"Oh, papa, do not say that. You would not curse me. You could not."
"If you do it at all, that will be the way."
"That will not be the way, papa. You could not treat me like that."
"And how are you proposing to treat me?"
"But, papa, in whatever way I do it, I must do it. I do not say
to-day or to-morrow; but it must be the intention and purpose of
my life, and I must declare that it is, everywhere. I have made
up my mind about it. I am engaged to him, and I shall always say
so,--unless he breaks it. I don't care a bit about fortune. I thought
I did once, but I have changed all that."
"Because this scoundrel has talked sedition to you."
"He is not a scoundrel, papa, and he has not talked sedition. I don't
know what sedition is. I thought it meant treason, and I'm sure he is
not a traitor. He has made me love him, and I shall be true to him."
Hereupon Sir Marmaduke began almost to weep. There came first a
half-smothered oath and then a sob, and he walked about the room, and
struck the table with his fist, and rubbed his bald head impatiently
with his hand. "Nora," he said, "I thought you were so different from
this! If I had believed this of you, you never should have come to
England with Emily."
"It is too late for that now, papa."
"Your mamma always told me that you had such excellent ideas about
marriage."
"So I have,--I think," said she, smiling.
"She always believed that you would make a match that would be a
credit to the family."
"I tried it, papa;--the sort of match that you mean. Indeed I was
mercenary enough in what I believed to be my views of life. I meant
to marry a rich man,--if I could, and did not think much whether I
should love him or not. But when the rich man came--"
"What rich man?"
"I suppose mamma has told you about Mr. Glascock."
"Who is Mr. Glascock? I have not heard a word about Mr. Glascock."
Then Nora was forced to tell her story,--was called upon to tell it
with all its aggravating details. By degrees Sir Marmaduke learned
that this Mr. Glascock, who had desired to be his son-in-law, was in
very truth the heir to the Peterborough title and estates,--would
have been such a son-in-law as almost to compensate, by the
brilliance of the connection, for that other unfortunate alliance. He
could hardly control his agony when he was made to understand that
this embryo peer had in truth been in earnest. "Do you mean that he
went down after you into Devonshire?"
"Yes, papa."
"And you refused him then,--a second time?"
"Yes, papa."
"Why;--why;--why? You say yourself that you liked him;--that you
thought that you would accept him."
"When it came to speaking the word, papa, I found that I could not
pretend to love him when I did not love him. I did not care for
him,--and I liked somebody else so much better! I just told him the
plain truth,--and so he went away."
The thought of all that he had lost, of all that might so easily have
been his, for a time overwhelmed Sir Marmaduke, and drove the very
memory of Hugh Stanbury almost out of his head. He could understand
that a girl should not marry a man whom she did not like; but he
could not understand how any girl should not love such a suitor
as was Mr. Glascock. And had she accepted this pearl of men, with
her position, with her manners and beauty and appearance, such a
connection would have been as good as an assured marriage for every
one of Sir Marmaduke's numerous daughters. Nora was just the woman to
look like a great lady, a lady of high rank,--such a lady as could
almost command men to come and throw themselves at her unmarried
sisters' feet. Sir Marmaduke had believed in his daughter Nora, had
looked forward to see her do much for the family; and, when the crash
had come upon the Trevelyan household, had thought almost as much
of her injured prospects as he had of the misfortune of her sister.
But now it seemed that more than all the good things of what he had
dreamed had been proposed to this unruly girl, in spite of that great
crash,--and had been rejected! And he saw more than this,--as he
thought. These good things would have been accepted had it not been
for this rascal of a penny-a-liner, this friend of that other rascal
Trevelyan, who had come in the way of their family to destroy the
happiness of them all! Sir Marmaduke, in speaking of Stanbury after
this, would constantly call him a penny-a-liner, thinking that the
contamination of the penny communicated itself to all transactions of
the Daily Record.
"You have made your bed for yourself, Nora, and you must lie upon
it."
"Just so, papa."
"I mean that, as you have refused Mr. Glascock's offer, you can never
again hope for such an opening in life."
"Of course I cannot. I am not such a child as to suppose that there
are many Mr. Glascocks to come and run after me. And if there were
ever so many, papa, it would be no good. As you say, I have chosen
for myself, and I must put up with it. When I see the carriages going
about in the streets, and remember how often I shall have to go home
in an omnibus, I do think about it a good deal."
"I'm afraid you will think when it is too late."
"It isn't that I don't like carriages, papa. I do like them; and
pretty dresses, and brooches, and men and women who have nothing to
do, and balls, and the opera; but--I love this man, and that is more
to me than all the rest. I cannot help myself, if it were ever so.
Papa, you mustn't be angry with me. Pray, pray, pray do not say that
horrid word again."
This was the end of the interview. Sir Marmaduke found that he had
nothing further to say. Nora, when she reached her last prayer to her
father, referring to that curse with which he had threatened her, was
herself in tears, and was leaning on him with her head against his
shoulder. Of course he did not say a word which could be understood
as sanctioning her engagement with Stanbury. He was as strongly
determined as ever that it was his duty to save her from the perils
of such a marriage as that. But, nevertheless, he was so far overcome
by her as to be softened in his manners towards her. He kissed her as
he left her, and told her to go to her mother. Then he went out and
thought of it all, and felt as though Paradise had been opened to his
child and she had refused to enter the gate.