MRS. JONES' LETTER.
A few days before Christmas Mary received a long letter from her friend
Mrs. Montacute Jones. At this time there was sad trouble again at Manor
Cross. Lord George had been away for a fortnight, and no reason for his
departure had as yet been given to the Marchioness. She had now become
aware that he was not to be at home at Christmas, and she was full of
doubt, full of surmises of her own. He must have quarrelled with his
sisters! They all assured her that there hadn't been an unpleasant word
between him and any one of them. Then he must have quarrelled with his
wife! "Indeed, indeed he has not," said Mary. "He has never quarrelled
with me and he never shall." Then why did he stay away? Business was
nonsense. Why was he going to stay away during Christmas. Then it was
necessary to tell the old lady a little fib. She was informed that
Brotherton had specially desired him to leave the house. This certainly
was a fib, as Brotherton's late order had been of a very different
nature. "I hope he hasn't done anything to offend his brother again,"
said the Marchioness. "I wonder whether it's about Popenjoy!" In the
midst of her troubles the poor old woman's wits were apt to wander.
Mary too had become rather cross, thinking that as her husband was up
in town she should be allowed to be there too. But it had been conceded
by her, and by her father on her behalf, that her town life was not to
begin till after Christmas, and now she was unable to prevail. She and
the family were in this uncomfortable condition when Mrs. Montacute
Jones' letter came for her consolation. As it contained tidings, more
or less accurate, concerning many persons named in this chronicle, it
shall be given entire. Mrs. Montacute Jones was a great writer of
letters, and she was wont to communicate many details among her friends
and acquaintances respecting one another. It was one of the marvels of
the day that Mrs. Jones should have so much information; and no one
could say how or whence she got it.
"CURRY HALL, _December 12, 187--_."
Curry Hall was the name of Mr. Jones' seat in Gloucestershire, whereas,
as all the world knew, Killancodlem was supposed to belong to Mrs.
Jones herself.
"DEAREST LADY GEORGE,--We have been here for the last six weeks,
quite quiet. A great deal too quiet for me, but for the three or
four winter months, I am obliged to give way a little to Mr.
Jones. We have had the Mildmays here, because they didn't seem to
have any other place to go to. But I barred the Baroness. I am
told that she is now bringing an action against Aunt Ju, who
unfortunately wrote the letter which induced the woman to come
over from--wherever she came from. Poor Aunt Ju is in a terrible
state, and wants her brother to buy the woman off,--which he will
probably have to do. That's what comes, my dear, of meddling with
disabilities. I know my own disabilities, but I never think of
interfering with Providence. Mr. Jones was made a man, and I was
made a woman. So I put up with it, and I hope you will do the
same.
"Mr. and Mrs. Green are here also, and remain till Christmas when
the Giblets are coming. It was the prettiest wedding in the world,
and they have been half over Europe since. I am told he's the
happiest man in the world, and the very best husband. Old Gossling
didn't like it at all, but every stick is entailed, and they say
he's likely to have gout in his stomach, so that everything will
go pleasantly. Lord Giblet himself is loud against his father,
asking everybody whether it was to be expected that in such a
matter as that he shouldn't follow his own inclination. I do hope
he'll show a little gratitude to me. But it's an ungrateful world,
and they'll probably both forget what I did for them.
"And now I want to ask you your opinion about another friend.
Don't you think that Jack had better settle down with poor dear
Guss? She's here, and upon my word I think she's nearly
broken-hearted. Of course you and I know what Jack has been
thinking of lately. But when a child cries for the top brick of
the chimney, it is better to let him have some possible toy. You
know what top brick he has been crying for. But I'm sure you like
him, and so do I, and I think we might do something for him. Mr.
Jones would let them a nice little house a few miles from here at
a peppercorn rent; and I suppose old Mr. Mildmay could do
something. They are engaged after a fashion. She told me all about
it the other day. So I've asked him to come down for Christmas,
and have offered to put up his horses if he wants to hunt.
"And now, my dear, I want to know what you have heard about Lord
Brotherton at Manor Cross. Of course we all know the way he has
behaved to Lord George. If I were Lord George I should not pay the
slightest attention to him. But I'm told he is in a very low
condition,--never sees anybody except his courier, and never stirs
out of the house. Of course you know that he makes his wife an
allowance, and refuses to see her. From what I hear privately I
really do think that he'll not last long. What a blessing it would
be! That's plain speaking;--but it would be a blessing! Some
people manage to live so that everybody will be the better for
their dying. I should break my heart if anybody wanted me to die.
"How grand it would be! The young and lovely Marchioness of
Brotherton! I'll be bound you think about it less than anybody
else, but it would be nice. I wonder whether you'd cut a poor old
woman like me, without a handle to her name. And then it would be
Popenjoy at once! Only how the bonfires wouldn't burn if it should
turn out to be only a disability after all. But we should say,
better luck next time, and send you caudle cups by the dozen. Who
wouldn't send a caudle cup to a real young lovely live
Marchioness? I'll be bound your father knows all about it, and has
counted it all up a score of times. I suppose it's over L40,000 a
year since they took to working the coal at Popenjoy, and whatever
the present man has done he can't have clipped the property. He
has never gambled, and never spent his income. Italian wives and
that sort of thing don't cost so much money as they do in England.
"Pray write and tell me all about it. I shall be in town in
February, and of course shall see you. I tell Mr. Jones that I
can't stand Curry Hall for more than three months. He won't come
to town till May, and perhaps when May comes he'll have forgotten
all about it. He is very fond of sheep, but I don't think he cares
for anything else, unless he has a slight taste for pigs.
"Your affectionate friend,
"G. MONTACUTE JONES."
There was much in this letter that astonished Mary, something that
shocked her, but something also that pleased her. The young and lovely
Marchioness of Brotherton! Where is the woman who would not like to be
a young and lovely Marchioness, so that it had all been come by
honestly, that the husband had been married as husbands ought to be
married, and had not been caught like Lord Giblet; and she knew that
her old friend,--her old friend whom she had not yet known for quite
twelve months,--was only joking with her in that suggestion as to
being cut. What a fate was this in store for her--if it really was in
store--that so early in her life she should be called upon to fill so
high a place. Then she made some resolutions in her mind that should it
be so she would be humble and meek; and a further resolution that she
would set her heart upon none of it till it was firmly her own.
But it shocked her that the Marquis should be so spoken of, especially
that he should be so spoken of if he were really dying! Plain speaking!
Yes, indeed. But such plain speaking was very terrible. This old woman
could speak of another nobleman having gout in his stomach as though
that were a thing really to be desired. And then that allusion to the
Italian wife or wives! Poor Mary blushed as she thought of it.
But there was a paragraph in the letter which interested her as much as
the tidings respecting Lord Brotherton. Could it be right that Jack De
Baron should be made to marry Guss Mildmay? She thought not, for she
knew that he did not love Guss Mildmay. That he should have wanted an
impossible brick, whether the highest or lowest brick, was very sad.
When children cry for impossible bricks they must of course be
disappointed. But she hardly thought that this would be the proper cure
for his disappointment. There had been a moment in which the same idea
had suggested itself to her; but now since her friendship with Jack had
been strengthened by his conduct in the deanery garden she thought that
he might do better with himself than be made by Mrs. Jones to marry
Guss Mildmay. Of course she could not interfere, but she hoped that
something might prevent Jack De Baron from spending his Christmas at
Curry Hall. She answered Mrs. Jones' letter very prettily. She trusted
that Lord Giblet might be happy with his wife, even though his father
should get well of the gout. She was very sorry to hear that Lord
Brotherton was ill. Nothing was known about him at Manor Cross, except
that he seemed to be very ill-natured to everybody. She was surprised
that anybody should be so ill-natured as he was. If ever she should
live to fill a high position she hoped she would be good-natured. She
knew that the people she would like best would be those who had been
kind to her, and nobody had been so kind as a certain lady named Mrs.
Montacute Jones. Then she spoke of her coming trial. "Don't joke with
me about it any more, there's a dear woman. They all flutter me here,
talking of it always, though they mean to be kind. But it seems to me
so serious. I wish that nobody would speak to me of it except George,
and he seems to think nothing about it."
Then she came to the paragraph the necessity for writing which had made
her answer Mrs. Jones' letter so speedily. "I don't think you ought to
persuade anybody to marry anyone. It didn't much signify, perhaps, with
Lord Giblet, as he isn't clever, and I daresay that Miss Green will
suit him very well; but as a rule I think gentlemen should choose for
themselves. In the case you speak of I don't think he cares for her,
and then they would be unhappy." She would not for worlds have
mentioned Captain De Baron's name; but she thought that Mrs. Jones
would understand her.
Of course Mrs. Jones understood her,--had understood more than Mary had
intended her to understand. Christmas was over and Mary was up in town
when she received Mrs. Jones' rejoinder, but it may as well be given
here. "The child who wanted the top brick is here, and I think will
content himself with a very much less exalted morsel of the building. I
am older than you, my dear, and know better. Our friend is a very good
fellow in his way, but there is no reason why he should not bend his
neck as well as another. To you no doubt he seems to have many graces.
He has had the great grace of holding his tongue because he appreciated
your character." Mary, as she read this, knew that even Mrs. Montacute
Jones could be misinformed now and then. "But I do not know that he is
in truth more gracious than others, and I think it quite as well that
Miss Mildmay should have the reward of her constancy."
But this was after Christmas, and in the meantime other occurrences had
taken place. On the 20th of December Lord George was informed by Mr.
Knox that his brother, who was then at Naples, had been struck by
paralysis, and at Mr. Knox's advice he started off for the southern
capital of Italy. The journey was a great trouble to him, but this was
a duty which he would under no circumstances neglect. The tidings were
communicated to Manor Cross, and after due consultation, were conveyed
by Lady Sarah to her mother. The poor old lady did not seem to be made
very unhappy by them. "Of course I can't go to him," she said; "how
could I do it?" When she was told that that was out of the question she
subsided again into tranquillity, merely seeming to think it necessary
to pay increased attention to Mary; for she was still quite alive to
the fact that all this greatly increased the chances that the baby
would be Popenjoy; but even in this the poor old lady's mind wandered
much, for every now and then she would speak of Popenjoy as though
there were a living Popenjoy at the present moment.
Lord George hurried off to Naples, and found that his brother was
living at a villa about eight miles from the town. He learned in the
city, before he had made his visit, that the Marquis was better, having
recovered his speech and apparently the use of his limbs. Still being
at Naples he found himself bound to go out to the villa. He did so, and
when he was there his brother refused to see him. He endeavoured to get
what information he could from the doctor; but the doctor was an
Italian, and Lord George could not understand him. As far as he could
learn the doctor thought badly of the case; but for the present his
patient had so far recovered as to know what he was about. Then Lord
George hurried back to London, having had a most uncomfortable journey
in the snow. Come what might he didn't think that he would ever again
take the trouble to pay a visit to his brother. The whole time taken on
his journey and for his sojourn in Naples was less than three weeks,
and when he returned the New Year had commenced.
He went down to Brotherton to bring his wife up to London, but met her
at the deanery, refusing to go to the house. When the Marchioness heard
of this,--and it became impossible to keep it from her,--she declared
that it was with herself that her son George must have quarrelled. Then
it was necessary to tell her the whole truth, or nearly the whole.
Brotherton had behaved so badly to his brother that Lord George had
refused to enter even the park. The poor old woman was very wretched,
feeling in some dim way that she was being robbed of both her sons. "I
don't know what I've done," she said, "that everything should be like
this. I'm sure I did all I could for them; but George never would
behave properly to his elder brother, and I don't wonder that
Brotherton feels it. Brotherton always had so much feeling. I don't
know why George should be jealous because Popenjoy was born. Why
shouldn't his elder brother have a son of his own like anybody else?"
And yet whenever she saw Mary, which she did for two or three hours
every day, she was quite alive to the coming interest. It was suggested
to her that she should be driven into Brotherton, so that she might see
George at the deanery; but her objection to go to the Dean's house was
as strong as was that of Lord George to come to his brother's.
Mary was of course delighted when the hour of her escape came. It had
seemed to her that there was especial cruelty in keeping her at Manor
Cross while her husband was up in town. Her complaints on this head had
of course been checked by her husband's unexpected journey to Naples,
as to which she had hardly heard the full particulars till she found
herself in the train with him. "After going all that way he wouldn't
see you!"
"He neither would see me or send me any message."
"Then he must be a bad man."
"He has lived a life of self-indulgence till he doesn't know how to
control a thought or a passion. It was something of that kind which was
meant when we were told about the rich man and the eye of the needle."
"But you will be a rich man soon, George."
"Don't think of it, Mary; don't anticipate it. God knows I have never
longed for it. Your father longs for it."
"Not for his own sake, George."
"He is wrong all the same. It will not make you happier,--nor me."
"But, George, when you thought that that little boy was not Popenjoy
you were as anxious as papa to find it all out."
"Right should be done," said Lord George, after a pause. "Whether it be
for weal or woe, justice should have its way. I never wished that the
child should be other than what he was called; but when there seemed to
be reason for doubt I thought that it should be proved."
"It will certainly come to you now, George, I suppose."
"Who can say? I might die to-night, and then Dick Germain, who is a
sailor somewhere, would be the next Lord Brotherton."
"Don't talk like that, George."
"He would be if your child happened to be a girl. And Brotherton might
live ever so long. I have been so harassed by it all that I am almost
sick of the title and sick of the property. I never grudged him
anything, and see how he has treated me." Then Mary was very gracious
to him and tried to comfort him, and told him that fortune had at any
rate given him a loving wife.