_AUGUSTUS WALLOWBY_.
Eppie Ness was at her door when Kenneth and his friend drew up before
it. She had a foreboding, when she saw two of them, that the other
must be the father of her baby, and that he was come to take it away;
and tears rose plentifully to her eyes and trickled over her withered
cheeks as she led them into her house.
The baby was in its cradle and asleep, and however homely might be the
cottage surroundings, no one could say that it had suffered from
neglect or privation. It lay among dainty coverings of cambric and
lace, like some infant princess, or a sacred image before which a
perpetual oblation of praise and incense is offered up.
It was impossible that Steele should recognize his child, seeing that
its life had been measured only by days when he last saw it, but he
_thought_ he recognized it, and no one would dispute his right to do
so. He also observed a strong resemblance in it to its deceased
mother, which confirmed his faith in its identity, if that were
possible. Yet, when one recalls that only a few weeks before Mrs.
Sangster had seen with equal clearness its strong family likeness to
Tibbie Tirpie, one may doubt if the likeness test is of much
consequence.
The clothing in which it had been wrapped up when found was produced.
It consisted entirely of Indian fabrics. Even Steele could tell that
much, but not having the feminine eye for embroideries and tissues, he
could not identify any of the articles. He was able to recognize his
wife's cipher, however, embroidered on a handkerchief, so that all
possibility of doubt was at an end.
He thanked Eppie profusely, and handed her his purse as some
instalment of the debt he owed her.
'Na na, sir!' she said, 'Miss Brown pays me weel, an' it's her ye're
awin' yer thanks til, for the care o' yer bairn, for she cudna hae
ta'en mair tent on't gin it had been her ain. I'm misdoubtin' but
she'll be wae to ken it's to be ta'en frae her. An', oh sir! gin ye
hae nae body partic'lar to mind it for ye, will ye tak _me_ for its
nurse? It wad be a sair heartbreak to me to be parted frae the wee
dawtie, an', I'm thinkin', she wad miss me hersel'!'
Steele felt a twinge of jealousy already. To think that any one should
have a nearer place than himself in his child's regard; but he
consented, and with thanks, that his daughter should remain for the
present where she was, till he had time to consider of her future
disposal. After hanging over the cradle, awakening the baby and making
it cry with his awkward endearments, he was at last persuaded to hand
back the new and incomprehensible possession to Eppie to be soothed
and comforted, and then after lingering and talking, and repetition
manifold, Kenneth was able to get him away and to carry him home.
All the village idlers were in the street to admire the dog-cart and
the groom, and wonder what the gentlemen could have to say in so long
an interview with Eppie Ness. No sooner had they gone, however, than
Eppie herself came forth brimming over with the news, and mightily
uplifted, if also sad at the possible chance of being parted from her
charge, to tell the neighbours that a great gentleman was claiming her
nurseling for his own child, that it was to be brought up as one of
the first ladies of the land, and that aiblins she, Eppie Ness, might
have to journey into foreign parts in attendance on the precious
infant.
'An' it's wae gude Mister Brown wull be, to hae the wee dawtie ta'en
frae him!'
'An' it's blate the Presbytery may weel be,' added Peter Malloch 'for
a' the daftlike clavers they hae set rinnin' fornent him.'
Mrs. Sangster was in Ebenezer Prittie's shop when the news was brought
in of the father that had appeared to claim the minister's bairn. They
both listened to the tale with much curiosity and interest, but
without one twinge of compunction at their own uncharitable
constructions in time past. They were both far too excellent for that,
and the lady's mind too well regulated to suppose that she could
possibly have acted or thought amiss. On the contrary, she was
disposed to draw improvement and instruction from the whole matter in
the usual way, by moralizing on the inscrutable ways of Providence,
and hoping that it would be 'a warning to the church office-bearers to
practice a more abundant charity in the future, and to refrain from
hasty judgments.'
'Hech! ay, mem,' sighed Ebenezer, 'it's juist hum'lin' to think what
haste an' uncharitableness the Presbytery hae leuten themsel's be
betrayed intil! An' Mester Dowlas! an' Mester Geddie! twa sic gude
men. That they suld sae far hae forgotten a' christian charity! It's
juist hum'lin'! But the best o' us wull gae wrang whiles!'
Joseph Smiley was the last man in the village to hear the news. His
wife was cooking, while he sat rocking the cradle till the food should
be prepared. Tibbie came bustling in from the street.
'There's news steerin', Tib!' she cried, 'but I haena juist gotten the
richts o't yet. Get up! Joseph Smiley, I win'er ye dinna think shame!
A muckle man like you, hingin' about the house like a singet cat, at
this time o' day! Out wi' ye! an' bring back word what's steerin'. An'
de'il a bite ye'se get, till ye can tell us a' about it!'
'Poor Joseph! He had come to this! Laid by the heels at last! and no
mistake. The jaunty bachelor, so alert and brisk, was quenched for
ever, and a poor, meek, hen-pecked creature had taken his place,
sighing under a mother-in-law's iron yoke, which grew heavier each day
as the victim developed new capacity of endurance.
After Tibbie's bold stroke of invasion, there was nothing left for him
but to succumb. Resistance would have raised such a scandal as must
have lost him his beadleship, and would probably have driven him from
the parish, so he had felt compelled to admit his marriage as the
lesser evil, even although it involved a severe private _rebuke_
before the assembled kirk-session for the matrimonial irregularity.
The bitterest day of his life was probably the Sunday on which he
'kirket' his wife. Shambling down the village street in front of his
mother-in-law, who stepped out behind with the briskness and precision
of a corporal's guard, he seemed 'going,' as Mrs. Ebenezer Prittie,
who surveyed them out of her window, observed to her spouse, 'like a
fool to the correction of the stocks,' and Mrs. P. was not sorry for
him. There was a twinkle of scornful pity in the eye of the onlookers
at seeing this notorious lady-killer thus taken in charge, which stung
Joseph's self-love like the cut of a whip; but his discomfiture was
not complete till they met Jean Macaulay. Jean surveyed their
procession with open eyes, and then looking her old sweetheart full in
the face, she threw back her head and uttered an echoing laugh. There
was a ring of vexation in the sound which might have brought
consolation for the affront, but Joseph was already too miserable to
be nicely observant. His eyes fell before her, and his head hung
forward in abject confusion; and he crept about his duties that day
around the tent more like a whipped cur than the brisk and
consequential beadle of other days.
As Kenneth drove his friend home to Inchbracken, his kind heart was
rejoicing to note the improvement in his condition. The happy
discovery had acted on him like a cordial given to a fainting man. His
very bearing was altered. He sat squarely in his seat looking about
him with clear and animated eyes, a different person from the limp and
nerveless invalid, seeing nothing left to him in earth or sky worth a
moment's regard, whom he had driven out a few hours before. Finding
there was still something left in his own life to interest him, Steele
began also to interest himself in the life of his fellows. He talked
to Kenneth about the Browns who had so tenderly cared for his child,
and the Browns with Kenneth was an inexhaustible subject. Now that he
had found a friendly listener, he talked about them freely enough, and
by the time they had reached Inchbracken, Steele knew all about his
engagement.
Understanding in what direction the morning drive had been made, the
sympathetic Julia had arranged herself for dinner in a species of half
mourning, and her voice and mien were more subduedly sorrowful than
ever. As the disconsolate entered the drawing room, she lifted her
head from a book over which she had been drooping in willowy fashion,
all mournful sympathy for the haggard desolation she expected to see
depicted on his face; but for once she found herself completely out of
tune.
Major Steele sat down beside Lady Caroline and began to recount the
discovery he had made--what a miracle had occurred on his behalf, and
what a paragon among infants was his new found daughter.
'Mary Brown's baby! your daughter?' cried Lady Caroline. 'That is
perfectly delightful! Would you like me to send over for it, that you
may have it here under your own eye?'
She was probably not very sorry, however, that Major Steele thought it
would be better for him to make a daily visit to his offspring, until
he could arrange to remove it to Edinburgh.
The two elder men were agreeably surprised by the brightened manner of
their guest. He seemed transformed since morning from a dismal
hypochondriac, into a person cheerful and companionable; or, as
Captain John put it, 'he seemed to have completely picked himself up.'
He in particular was well pleased to meet some one who could talk to
him of India, and enable him to live over again the years he spent
there in his youth. It followed that they sat longer than usual in the
dining room, drank their coffee there, and adjourned straight to the
smoking room, so that the ladies saw no more of them that evening.
This was just as well for Julia, whose artistic soul had been sadly
jarred by finding herself pitched in a wrong key. It took her hours to
modulate down into a more everyday state of feeling,--for there must
be a kind of feeling at the back even of make-believe emotion, if it
is to be a successful representation. But that was only part of what
she would have to do. The spectator must be led down by easy
gradation, or her revulsion from pensive melancholy to a chastened
cheerfulness might seem abrupt, intentional, and ridiculous.
Artificial feeling has this advantage in displaying itself, that it is
single, and free from the complexities and contradictions which
confuse and distract the real, in its manifestation; and hence grief
on the stage is often beautiful, while in private life it is generally
revolting and grotesque. But this very singleness and clear definition
makes it more difficult for the artificial to change front; while the
real, having been always blurred and muddy and indistinct, can readily
transfer itself to a new category. The floating cloud passes readily
enough from the form of an eagle to a ship, a horse or a whale; but
clay once trimmed and modelled into a given shape must be broken down
and worked up afresh in order to take a new form. Julia therefore kept
in the background for a day or two, before coming forward prominently
in a new rôle. Prominence, however, was by no means so very easy now.
Since Major Steele's mind had recovered a healthier tone, the men in
the house were all eager for his company. The General had Blue-Books
and Reports of the Board of Control on which he desired information,
and Captain John talked pig-sticking and tigerhunts by the hour.
If Julia would only have taken some personal interest in the baby, she
might have succeeded, but she was much too clever and artistic to try
any course so obvious as that. Besides, she abominated babies. 'Damp,
sticky little abominations, which always squalled when you did
anything to them! and scrabbled their little wet fingers over your
face, which was always unpleasant, and sometimes inconvenient.' If she
would have talked about bringing up young children, infant health and
disease, baths, powders, pap and teething, she might have kept the
Major at her side by the hour; for the new responsibilities of a
parent weighed heavily upon him, and he had no one to advise with,
Lady Caroline having forgotten all she ever knew on such matters, if
she ever knew anything. He rode over to Eppie every day and had long
talks with her on the engrossing subject; but when he returned, the
billiard room or smoking room were his usual haunts.
It was not long too before Julia had other matters of her own to
attend to. Since the awakening of her fantastical interest in Major
Steele, Augustus Wallowby's daily offerings of amorous rubbish had
grown wearisome, and reply to them a positive bore. Her letters had
grown intermittent, and dwindled down to the shortest billets.
Augustus remonstrated--waxed plaintive--drivelled--Julia lost patience
and ceased to write altogether. Had Augustus followed suit, it is
likely the correspondence would not have remained long in abeyance,
and that it would have been the lady who would have revived it; but
Augustus dared not venture on that experiment, indeed he had become
too deeply in earnest to think of it. He had thought over her pretty
speeches spoken, and written in her earlier letters, and the delight
of having a lord for a cousin and visitor, till from merely supposing
that she must admire him very much, he had worked himself up to an
almost crazy eagerness about _her_, believed himself to be cherishing
a most ardent attachment, and began to feel deeply touched at his own
sensibility.
Likewise he had cut the ground from under his own feet; or perhaps
'burned his ships' is the more usual metaphor. On returning home from
the North, his good fortune with the ladies and this new conquest were
much in his thoughts, weighty hints and dark sayings babbled from his
lips before he was aware, and then, to mend matters, he would explain
and confide till they were made much worse. All his acquaintance knew
that he was going to be married, and the younger men reverenced him in
advance on account of the noble family he was about to enter, 'related
to half the peerage.'
The news did not act so pleasantly for him on his lady friends. No one
should say that they had been jilted, or had made fruitless attempts
to win him! and they took care that the cooling of the intimacy should
begin on their side. His neighbour Sir Timothy Kettlebotham had three
fine daughters, with £20,000 certain to their fortunes a-piece, and he
had been wont to practise a good deal of archery with them on the
lawn, as well as to sing numberless duets and glees, and assist at
small carpet dances in the evening. But now Miss Kitura had strained
her wrist and could not draw a bow, Miss Felicia had medical orders
not to sing until her chest grew stronger, and Miss Frances was away
on a visit. He found himself condemned to dine at home four or five
times in the week, and to knock about the billiard hall of an evening
if he could secure a companion, or to fall asleep in his chair if he
could not, without a chance of the female society and admiration to
which he had grown accustomed.
He wrote more and more pleadingly, which to Julia was more and more
tiresome, and therefore elicited no reply. In sheer desperation, he
packed his portmanteau and hurried to the north. He had a standing
invitation to return when he pleased from Mrs. Sangster, who still
cherished fatuous hopes of making him a son-in-law. Therefore, when
one frosty evening about Christmas time he drew up at the door, he was
made as welcome as the flowers in spring. Since the vindication of
Roderick Brown's character, that lady had an uncomfortable intuition
that her all-wisdom was set less store on both by her husband and
daughter. But here was the prize returned; it could be with only one
object, and these ingrates would have to admit her judicious
management after all.
Augustus drove over to Inchbracken the following day very early. When
his card was brought to Julia she was greatly surprised, and better
pleased with the man than she had been yet. This long journey at such
a season, and over muddy roads showed some energy and strength of
purpose, and if only he would talk like a rational being and a
gentleman, instead of maundering like a lackadaisical idiot as he had
been doing of late in his letters, she believed she might bring
herself to respect and even like him. She was beginning to realize,
too, that her sympathy for Major Steele was so much brain power thrown
away. There had been something respectable, nay more, touching, and
almost grand, in such abandonment of grief and utter desolation on the
part of a widower crushed by the untimely loss of his wife and child;
but that a distinguished officer should ride away from good company
every day to drivel for hours with an old woman over a sticky infant
was preposterous, nay it was disgusting!
There were half-a-dozen of Augustus' latest letters on her table still
unopened. She tore them open now, and glanced at the contents to place
herself _au courant_ with the gentleman's ideas, but the reading
nearly destroyed her good resolutions. The letters were both abject
and ridiculous, and she wondered how she would even learn to tolerate
such a husband, and hesitated whether to go down to him at all. Being,
however, a business minded person, who meant to settle herself
comfortably and respectably in life, and knew she could not have
everything, she choked down the unpractical idea, and after a critical
survey of herself in the glass, she went down to receive her visitor.
Her manner was all gracious friendliness, and Augustus was disarmed
for the moment, and saved from doing anything absurd, which might have
been the death of his hopes. He had expected to be received with
coldness, and had prepared many moving protestations; he had even
selected the precise spot of the carpet on which he was prepared to
kneel; and surely that, he thought, with perhaps a tear or two (and he
had a misgiving that in certain contingencies they would not be far
of!) would finish the matter. And so it would have done, for in spite
of self-command, Julia would have laughed, and Augustus Wallowby's
love, his infatuation,--whatever it should be called,--would never
have survived a laugh. He would have rushed from the house, and no
apology would ever have induced him to return.
They chatted as pleasantly as possible, thanks to Julia, who kept the
conversation well on the ordinary track, carefully avoiding sentiment
and everything tiresome. Augustus regained his equanimity under this
treatment, and was saved from making a fool of himself. He had come
with a purpose, however; and that purpose must be fulfilled, if not in
the melodramatic fashion he had intended, at least in such form as
circumstances would permit. He told her that his life was a burden to
him at so great a distance from her, and begged that she would let the
marriage take place the following month.
She replied that it was very nice of him to be so impatient, of
course; but really he must allow her a little time to prepare for so
momentous a change in her life. He pressed her to name a time. She
supposed in a year. 'And you must not, dear Augustus, be so exacting
as you have shown signs of being lately. A woman should be allowed to
take the full enjoyment out of her last year of freedom. You know,
after that, you expect us to be obedient slaves. Oh yes! Don't
protest! Men are all alike!' with an engaging smile, which gratified
Augustus, and made him pull out his whiskers to their greatest length.
He remonstrated about the year, however, with great earnestness, and
there were threatenings of a watery look in his eyes, which induced
her to relent so far; for her gracious blandishments being really well
done, had had a reflex action, and she was getting into a less hard
humour herself.
'Six months! then,' she said. 'Now see what influence you have
already! It quite frightens me.'
But Augustus was not yet content. He reminded her of the discomforts
of a northern spring. 'Would she not like to spend the dreariest
months of the year in Italy, with its blue skies and its--' The
special descriptive attributes of Italy forsook him at the moment,
but, 'and all that sort of thing' answered as well. 'And we might
spend Holy Week in Rome, and see all the church ceremonies; and there
are to be an unusual number of foreign princes there this year, I am
told. Would you not like to be there?'
Julia thought that she _would_ like it. And after all, if it was to
be, the sooner she entered on her fortune, and the less time she had
to think about it beforehand, perhaps the better. So March was fixed
on as the date of their happiness, and Wallowby was led up stairs to
Lady Caroline's sitting-room, to be presented as an expectant
relative, and to be duly congratulated. The interview did not last
long, however; Lady Caroline speedily got tired of tiresome people,
and Julia, knowing the signs, bundled her admirer off in good time. He
was invited to dinner for the following day, with instructions to go
back to Manchester the day after, and to remain there till the day of
the wedding, as the settlements could be arranged between Mr.
MacSiccar (who had Lady Caroline and the General's instructions as to
what was proper) and his solicitors.
He returned to Auchlippie in exuberant delight, and unburdened himself
of his good news to his hostess, who made shift to receive it as well
as she could. So he had come north with matrimonial intent after all!
And yet he had turned his eyes elsewhere! It was too bad! And her
husband and daughter would think less of her wisdom than ever.
She was not very effusive in her congratulations, and she told him
that he would no doubt stay at Inchbracken when he came north next
time; from which he was left to infer that the Lady of Auchlippie had
no wish to see his face again.