BAD TIDINGS.
About the middle of October, there came a letter from the Marquis of
Brotherton to his brother, which startled them all at Manor Cross very
much indeed. In answering Lord George's communication as to the
marriage, the Marquis had been mysterious and disagreeable;--but then
he was always disagreeable and would on occasions take the trouble to
be mysterious also. He had warned his brother that he might himself
want the house at Manor Cross; but he had said the same thing
frequently during his residence in Italy, being always careful to make
his mother and sisters understand that they might have to take
themselves away any day at a very short warning. But now the short
warning had absolutely come, and had come in such a shape as to upset
everything at Manor Cross, and to upset many things at the Brotherton
Deanery. The letter was as follows:--
"My dear George,
"I am to be married to the Marchesa Luigi. Her name is Catarina
Luigi, and she is a widow. As to her age, you can ask herself when
you see her, if you dare. I haven't dared. I suppose her to be ten
years younger than myself. I did not expect that it would be so,
but she says now that she would like to live in England. Of course
I've always meant to go back myself some day. I don't suppose we
shall be there before May, but we must have the house got ready.
My mother and the girls had better look out for a place as soon as
they can. Tell my mother of course I will allow her the rent of
Cross Hall, to which indeed she is entitled. I don't think she
would care to live there, and neither she nor the girls would get
on with my wife.
"Yours, B.
"I am waiting to know about getting the house painted and
furnished."
When Lord George received this letter, he showed it first in privacy to
his sister Sarah. As the reader will have understood, there had never
been any close family affection between the present Marquis and his
brothers and sisters; nor had he been a loving son to his mother. But
the family at Manor Cross had always endeavoured to maintain a show of
regard for the head of the family, and the old Marchioness would no
doubt have been delighted had her eldest son come home and married an
English wife. Lady Sarah, in performing what she had considered to be a
family duty, had written regular despatches to her elder brother,
telling him everything that happened about the place,--despatches which
he, probably, never read. Now there had come a blow indeed. Lady Sarah
read the letter, and then looked into her brother's face.
"Have you told Mary?" she asked.
"I have told no one."
"It concerns her as much as any of us. Of course, if he has married, it
is right that he should have his house. We ought to wish that he should
live hero."
"If he were different from what he is," said Lord George.
"If she is good it may be that he will become different. It is not the
thing, but the manner in which he tells it to us! Did you ever hear her
name before?"
"Never."
"What a way he has of mentioning her;--about her age," said Lady Sarah,
infinitely shocked. "Well! Mamma must be told, of course. Why shouldn't
we live at Cross Hall? I don't understand what he means about that.
Cross Hall belongs to mamma for her life, as much as Manor Cross does
to him for his."
Just outside the park gate, at the side of the park furthest away from
Brotherton, and therefore placed very much out of the world, there
stood a plain substantial house built in the days of Queen Anne, which
had now for some generations been the habitation of the dowager of the
Brotherton family. When the late marquis died, this had become for her
life the property of the Marchioness; but had been ceded by her to her
son, in return for the loan of the big house. The absentee Marquis had
made with his mother the best bargain in his power, and had let the
dower house, known as Cross Hall, to a sporting farmer. He now kindly
offered to allow his mother to have the rent of her own house,
signifying at the same time his wish that all his family should remove
themselves out of his way.
"He wishes that we should take ourselves off," said Lord George,
hoarsely.
"But I do not see why we are to give way to his wishes. George, where
are we to go? Of what use can we be in a strange country? Wherever we
are we shall be very poor, but our money will go further here than
elsewhere. How are we to get up new interests in life? The land is his,
but the poor people belong to us as much as to him. It is
unreasonable."
"It is frightfully selfish."
"I for one am not prepared to obey him in this," said Lady Sarah. "Of
course mamma will do as she pleases, but I do not see why we should go.
He will never live here all the year through."
"He will be sick of it after a month. Will you read the letter to my
mother?"
"I will tell her, George. She had better not see the letter, unless she
makes a point of it. I will read it again, and then do you keep it. You
should tell Mary at once. It is natural that she should have built
hopes on the improbability of Brotherton's marriage."
Before noon on that day the news had been disseminated through the
house. The old Marchioness, when she first heard of the Italian wife,
went into hysterics, and then was partly comforted by reminding herself
that all Italians were not necessarily bad. She asked after the letter
repeatedly; and at last, when it was found to be impossible to explain
to her otherwise what her eldest son meant about the houses, it was
shown to her. Then she began to weep afresh.
"Why mayn't we live at Cross Hall, Sarah?" she said.
"Cross Hall belongs to you, mamma, and nothing can hinder you from
living there."
"But Augustus says that we are to go away."
The Marchioness was the only one of the family who ever called the
Marquis by his Christian name, and she did so only when she was much
disturbed.
"No doubt he expresses a wish that we should do so?"
"Where are we to go to, and I at my age?"
"I think you should live at Cross Hall."
"But he says that we mayn't. We could never go on there if he wants us
to go away."
"Why not, mamma? It is your house as much as this is his. If you will
let him understand that when you leave this you mean to go there, he
will probably say nothing more about it."
"Mr. Price is living there. I can't make Mr. Price go away directly the
painter people come in here. They'll come to-morrow, perhaps, and what
am I to do then?"
The matter was discussed throughout the whole day between Lady Sarah
and her mother, the former bearing the old woman's plaintive weakness
with the utmost patience, and almost succeeding, before the evening
came, in inducing her mother to agree to rebel against the tyranny of
her son. There were peculiar difficulties and peculiar hardships in the
case. The Marquis could turn out all the women of his family at a day's
notice. He had only to say to them, "Go!" and they must be gone. And he
could be rid of them without even saying or writing another word. A
host of tradesmen would come, and then of course they must go. But Mr.
Price at Cross Hall must have a regular year's notice, and that notice
could not now be given till Lady-day next.
"If the worst comes to the worst, mamma we will go and live in
Brotherton for the time. Mr. Holdenough or the Dean would find some
place for us." Then the old lady began to ask how Mary had borne the
news; but as yet Lady Sarah had not been able to interest herself
personally about Mary.
Lord George was surprised to find how little his wife was affected by
the terrible thunderbolt which had fallen among them. On him the blow
had been almost as terrible as on his mother. He had taken a house in
town, at the instance of the Dean, and in consequence of a promise made
before his marriage, which was sacred to him but which he regretted. He
would have preferred himself to live the whole year through at Manor
Cross. Though he had not very much to do there the place was never dull
to him. He liked the association of the big house. He liked the sombre
grandeur of the park. He liked the magistrates' bench, though he rarely
spoke a word when he was there. And he liked the thorough economy of
the life. But as to that house in town, though his wife's fortune would
enable him to live there four or five months, he knew that he could not
stretch the income so as to bear the expense of the entire year. And
yet, what must he do now? If he could abandon the house in town, then
he could join his mother as to some new country house. But he did not
dare to suggest that the house in town should be abandoned. He was
afraid of the Dean, and afraid, so to say, of his own promise. The
thing had been stipulated, and he did not know how to go back from the
stipulation.
"Going to leave Manor Cross," said Mary, when she was told. "Dear me;
how odd. Where will they go to?"
It was evident to her husband from the tone of her voice that she
regarded her own house in Munster Court, for it was her own, as her
future residence,--as hers and his. In asking where "they" would live,
she spoke of the other ladies of the family. He had expected that she
would have shown some disappointment at the danger to her future
position which this new marriage would produce. But in regard to that
she was, he thought, either perfectly indifferent, or else a very good
actor. In truth, she was almost indifferent. The idea that she might
some day be Lady Brotherton had been something to her, but not much.
Her happiness was not nearly as much disturbed by this marriage as it
had been by the allusion made to her dress. She herself could hardly
understand the terrible gloom which seemed during that evening and the
whole of the next day to have fallen on the entire family.
"George, does it make you very unhappy?" she said, whispering to him on
the morning of the second day.
"Not that my brother should marry," he said, "God forbid that I, as a
younger brother, should wish to debar him from any tittle of what
belongs to him. If he would marry well it ought to be a joy to us all."
"Is not this marrying well?"
"What, with a foreigner; with an Italian widow? And then there will, I
fear, be great trouble in finding a comfortable home for my mother."
"Amelia says she can go to Cross Hall."
"Amelia does not know what she is talking of. It would be very long
before they could get into Cross Hall, even if they can go there at
all. It would have to be completely furnished, and there is no money to
furnish it."
"Wouldn't your brother----?" Lord George shook his head. "Or papa."
Lord George again shook his head--"What will they do?"
"If it were not for our house in London we might take a place in the
country together," said Lord George.
All the various facts of the proposition now made to her flashed upon
Mary's mind at once. Had it been suggested to her, when she was first
asked to marry Lord George, that she should live permanently in a
country house with his mother and sisters, in a house of which she
would not be and could not be the mistress, she would certainly have
rejected the offer. And now the tedium of such a life was plainer to
her than it would have been then. But, under her father's auspices, a
pleasant, gay little house in town had been taken for her, and she had
been able to gild the dullness of Manor Cross with the brightness of
her future prospects. For four or five months she would be her own
mistress, and would be so in London. Her husband would be living on her
money, but it would be the delight of her heart that he should be happy
while doing so. And all this must be safe and wise, because it was to
be done under the advice of her father. Now it was proposed to her that
she should abandon all this and live in some smaller, poorer, duller
country residence, in which she would be the least of the family
instead of the mistress of her own house. She thought of it all for a
moment, and then she answered him with a firm voice.
"If you wish to give up the house in London we will do so."
"It would distress you I fear." When we call on our friends to
sacrifice themselves, we generally wish them also to declare that they
like being sacrificed.
"I should be disappointed of course, George."
"And it would be unjust," said he.
"If you wish it I will not say a word against it."
On that afternoon he rode into Brotherton to tell the tidings to the
Dean. Upon whatever they might among them decide, it was expedient that
the Dean should be at once told of the marriage. Lord George, as he
thought over it all on horseback, found difficulties on every side. He
had promised that his wife should live in town, and he could not go
back from that promise without injustice. He understood the nature of
her lately offered sacrifice, and felt that it would not liberate his
conscience. And then he was sure that the Dean would be loud against
any such arrangement. The money no doubt was Mary's own money and,
subject to certain settlement, was at Lord George's immediate disposal;
but he would be unable to endure the Dean's reproaches. He would be
unable also to endure his own, unless--which was so very
improbable--the Dean should encourage him. But how were things to be
arranged? Was he to desert his mother and sisters in their difficulty?
He was very fond of his wife; but it had never yet occurred to him that
the daughter of Dean Lovelace could be as important to him as all the
ladies of the house of Germain. His brother purposed to bring his wife
to Manor Cross in May, when he would be up in London. Where at that
moment, and after what fashion, would his mother and sisters be living?
The Dean showed his dismay at the marriage plainly enough.
"That's very bad, George," he said; "very bad indeed!"
"Of course we don't like her being a foreigner."
"Of course you don't like his marrying at all. Why should you? You all
know enough of him to be sure that he wouldn't marry the sort of woman
you would approve."
"I don't know why my brother should not have married any lady in
England."
"At any rate he hasn't. He has married some Italian widow, and it's a
misfortune. Poor Mary!"
"I don't think Mary feels it at all."
"She will some day. Girls of her age don't feel that kind of thing at
first. So he is going to come over at once. What will your mother do?"
"She has Cross Hall."
"That man Price is there. He will go out of course?"
"With notice he must go."
"He won't stand about that, if you don't interfere with his land and
farm-yard. I know Price. He's not a bad fellow."
"But Brotherton does not want them to go there," said Lord George,
almost in a whisper.
"Does not want your mother to live in her own house! Upon my word the
Marquis is considerate to you all! He has said that plainly, has he? If
I were Lady Brotherton I would not take the slightest heed of what he
says. She is not dependent on him. In order that he may be relieved
from the bore of being civil to his own family she is to be sent out
about the world to look for a home in her old age! You must tell her
not to listen for a minute to such a proposition."
Lord George, though he put great trust in his father-in-law, did not
quite like hearing his brother spoken of so very freely by a man who
was, after all, the son of a tradesman. It seemed to him as though the
Dean made himself almost too intimate with the affairs at Manor Cross,
and yet he was obliged to go on and tell the Dean everything.
"Even if Price went, there must be some delay in getting the house
ready."
"The Marquis surely won't turn your mother out before the spring?"
"Tradesmen will have to come in. And then I don't quite know what we
are to do as to the----expense of furnishing the new house. It will
cost a couple of thousand pounds, and none of us have ready money." The
Dean assumed a very serious face. "Every spoon and fork at Manor Cross,
every towel and every sheet belongs to my brother."
"Was not the Cross House ever furnished?"
"Many years ago; in my grandmother's time. My father left money for the
purpose, but it was given up to my sister Alice when she married
Holdenough." He found himself explaining all the little intricacies of
his family to the Dean, because it was necessary that he should hold
council with some one. "I was thinking of a furnished house for them
elsewhere."
"In London?"
"Certainly not there. My mother would not like it, nor would my
sisters. I like the country very much the best myself."
"Not for the whole year?"
"I have never cared to be in London; but, of course, as for Mary and
myself that is settled. You would not wish her to give up the house in
Munster Court?"
"Certainly not. It would not be fair to her to ask her to live always
under the wing of your mother and sisters. She would never learn to be
a woman. She would always be in leading strings. Do you not feel that
yourself?"
"I feel that beggars cannot be choosers. My mother's fortune is L2000 a
year. As you know we have only 5000_l._ a piece. There is hardly income
enough among us for a house in town and a house in the country."
The Dean paused a moment, and then replied that his daughter's welfare
could not be made subordinate to that of the family generally. He then
said that if any immediate sum of money were required he would lend it
either to the dowager or to Lord George.
Lord George, as he rode home, was angry both with himself and with the
Dean. There had been an authority in the Dean's voice which had grated
upon his feelings; of course he intended to be as good as his word;
but, nevertheless, his wife was his wife and subject to his will; and
her fortune had been her own and had not come from the Dean. The Dean
took too much upon himself. And yet, with all that, he had consulted
the Dean about everything, and had confessed the family poverty. The
thing, however, was quite certain to him; he could not get out of the
house in town.
During the whole of that day Lady Sarah had been at work with her
mother, instigating her to insist on her own rights, and at last she
had succeeded.
"What would our life be, mamma," Lady Sarah had said, "if we were
removed altogether into a new world. Here we are of some use. People
know us, and give us credit for being what we are. We can live after
our own fashion, and yet live in accordance with our rank. There is not
a man or a woman or a child in the parish whom I do not know. There is
not a house in which you would not see Amelia's and Susanna's work. We
cannot begin all that over again."
"When I am gone, my dear, you must do so."
"Who can say how much may be done before that sad day shall come to us?
He may have taken his Italian wife back again to Italy. Mamma, we ought
not to run away from our duties."
On the following morning it was settled among them that the dowager
should insist on possession of her own house at Cross Hall, and a
letter was written to the Marquis, congratulating him of course on his
marriage, but informing him at the same time that the family would
remain in the parish.
Some few days later Mr. Knox, the agent for the property, came down
from London. He had received the orders of the Marquis, and would be
prepared to put workmen into the house as soon as her ladyship would be
ready to leave it. But he quite agreed that this could not be done at
once. A beginning no doubt might be made while they were still there,
but no painting should be commenced or buildings knocked down or put up
till March. It was settled at the same time that on the first of March
the family should leave the house.
"I hope my son won't be angry," the Marchioness said to Mr. Knox.
"If he be angry, my lady, he will be angry without a cause. But I never
knew him to be very angry about anything."
"He always did like to have his own way, Mr. Knox," said the mindful
mother.