CHRISTMAS AT GROBY PARK.
Christmas-day was always a time of very great trial to Mrs. Mason of
Groby Park. It behoved her, as the wife of an old English country
gentleman, to spread her board plenteously at that season, and in
some sort to make an open house of it. But she could not bring
herself to spread any board with plenty, and the idea of an open
house would almost break her heart. Unlimited eating! There was
something in the very sounds of such words which was appalling to the
inner woman.
And on this Christmas-day she was doomed to go through an ordeal of
very peculiar severity. It so happened that the cure of souls in the
parish of Groby had been intrusted for the last two or three years to
a young, energetic, but not very opulent curate. Why the rector of
Groby should be altogether absent, leaving the work in the hands
of a curate, whom he paid by the lease of a cottage and garden and
fifty-five pounds a year,--thereby behaving as he imagined with
extensive liberality,--it is unnecessary here to inquire. Such was
the case, and the Rev. Adolphus Green, with Mrs. A. Green and the
four children, managed to live with some difficulty on the produce
of the garden and the allotted stipend; but could not probably have
lived at all in that position had not Mrs. Adolphus Green been
blessed with some small fortune.
It had so happened that Mrs. Adolphus Green had been instrumental in
imparting some knowledge of singing to two of the Miss Masons, and
had continued her instructions over the last three years. This had
not been done in any preconcerted way, but the lessons had grown by
chance. Mrs. Mason the while had looked on with a satisfied eye at an
arrangement that was so much to her taste.
"There are no regular lessons you know," she had said to her husband,
when he suggested that some reward for so much work would be
expedient. "Mrs. Green finds it convenient to have the use of my
drawing-room, and would never see an instrument from year's end to
year's end if she were not allowed to come up here. Depend upon it
she gets a great deal more than she gives."
But after two years of tuition Mr. Mason had spoken a second time.
"My dear," he said, "I cannot allow the girls to accept so great a
favour from Mrs. Green without making her some compensation."
"I don't see that it is at all necessary," Mrs. Mason had
answered; "but if you think so, we could send her down a hamper of
apples,--that is, a basketful." Now it happened that apples were very
plentiful that year, and that the curate and his wife were blessed
with as many as they could judiciously consume.
"Apples! nonsense!" said Mr. Mason.
"If you mean money, my dear, I couldn't do it. I wouldn't so offend a
lady for all the world."
"You could buy them something handsome, in the way of furniture. That
little room of theirs that they call the drawing-room has nothing in
it at all. Get Jones from Leeds to send them some things that will
do for them." And hence, after many inner misgivings, had arisen
that purchase of a drawing-room set from Mr. Kantwise,--that set of
metallic "Louey Catorse furniture," containing three tables, eight
chairs, &c., &c., as to which it may be remembered that Mrs. Mason
made such an undoubted bargain, getting them for less than cost
price. That they had been "strained," as Mr. Kantwise himself
admitted in discoursing on the subject to Mr. Dockwrath, was not
matter of much moment. They would do extremely well for a curate's
wife.
And now on this Christmas-day the present was to be made over to the
happy lady. Mr. and Mrs. Green were to dine at Groby Park,--leaving
their more fortunate children to the fuller festivities of the
cottage; and the intention was that before dinner the whole
drawing-room set should be made over. It was with grievous pangs of
heart that Mrs. Mason looked forward to such an operation. Her own
house was plenteously furnished from the kitchens to the attics,
but still she would have loved to keep that metallic set of painted
trumpery. She knew that the table would not screw on; she knew that
the pivot of the music stool was bent; she knew that there was no
place in the house in which they could stand; she must have known
that in no possible way could they be of use to her or hers,--and
yet she could not part with them without an agony. Her husband was
infatuated in this matter of compensation for the use of Mrs. Green's
idle hours; no compensation could be necessary;--and then she paid
another visit to the metallic furniture. She knew in her heart of
hearts that they could never be of use to anybody, and yet she made
up her mind to keep back two out of the eight chairs. Six chairs
would be quite enough for Mrs. Green's small room.
As there was to be feasting at five, real roast beef, plum-pudding
and mince-pies;--"Mince-pies and plum-pudding together are vulgar,
my dear," Mrs. Mason had said to her husband; but in spite of the
vulgarity he had insisted;--the breakfast was of course scanty. Mr.
Mason liked a slice of cold meat in the morning, or the leg of a
fowl, or a couple of fresh eggs as well as any man; but the matter
was not worth a continual fight. "As we are to dine an hour earlier
to-day I did not think you would eat meat," his wife said to him.
"Then there would be less expense in putting it on the table," he
had answered; and after that there was nothing more said about it.
He always put off till some future day that great contest which he
intended to wage and to win, and by which he hoped to bring it about
that plenty should henceforward be the law of the land at Groby Park.
And then they all went to church. Mrs. Mason would not on any account
have missed church on Christmas-day or a Sunday. It was a cheap duty,
and therefore rigidly performed. As she walked from her carriage up
to the church-door she encountered Mrs. Green, and smiled sweetly as
she wished that lady all the compliments of the season.
"We shall see you immediately after church," said Mrs. Mason.
"Oh yes, certainly," said Mrs. Green.
"And Mr. Green with you?"
"He intends to do himself the pleasure," said the curate's wife.
"Mind he comes, because we have a little ceremony to go through
before we sit down to dinner," and Mrs. Mason smiled again ever
so graciously. Did she think, or did she not think, that she was
going to do a kindness to her neighbour? Most women would have sunk
into their shoes as the hour grew nigh at which they were to show
themselves guilty of so much meanness.
She stayed for the sacrament, and it may here be remarked that on
that afternoon she rated both the footman and housemaid because they
omitted to do so. She thought, we must presume, that she was doing
her duty, and must imagine her to have been ignorant that she was
cheating her husband and cheating her friend. She took the sacrament
with admirable propriety of demeanour, and then, on her return home,
withdrew another chair from the set. There would still be six,
including the rocking chair, and six would be quite enough for that
little hole of a room.
There was a large chamber up stairs at Groby Park which had been used
for the children's lessons, but which now was generally deserted.
There was in it an old worn-out pianoforte,--and though Mrs. Mason
had talked somewhat grandly of the use of her drawing-room, it was
here that the singing had been taught. Into this room the metallic
furniture had been brought, and up to that Christmas morning it had
remained here packed in its original boxes. Hither immediately after
breakfast Mrs. Mason had taken herself, and had spent an hour in her
efforts to set the things forth to view. Two of the chairs she then
put aside into a cupboard, and a third she added to her private store
on her return to her work after church.
But, alas, alas! let her do what she would, she could not get the top
on to the table. "It's all smashed, ma'am," said the girl whom she
at last summoned to her aid. "Nonsense, you simpleton; how can it be
smashed when it's new," said the mistress. And then she tried again,
and again, declaring as she did do, that she would have the law of
the rogue who had sold her a damaged article. Nevertheless she had
known that it was damaged, and had bought it cheap on that account,
insisting in very urgent language that the table was in fact worth
nothing because of its injuries.
At about four Mr. and Mrs. Green walked up to the house and were
shown into the drawing-room. Here was Mrs. Mason supported by
Penelope and Creusa. As Diana was not musical, and therefore under
no compliment to Mrs. Green, she kept out of the way. Mr. Mason also
was absent. He knew that something very mean was about to be done,
and would not show his face till it was over. He ought to have taken
the matter in hand himself, and would have done so had not his mind
been full of other things. He himself was a man terribly wronged and
wickedly injured, and could not therefore in these present months
interfere much in the active doing of kindnesses. His hours were
spent in thinking how he might best obtain justice,--how he might
secure his pound of flesh. He only wanted his own, but that he
would have;--his own, with due punishment on those who had for so
many years robbed him of it. He therefore did not attend at the
presentation of the furniture.
"And now we'll go up stairs, if you please," said Mrs. Mason, with
that gracious smile for which she was so famous. "Mr. Green, you must
come too. Dear Mrs. Green has been so very kind to my two girls; and
now I have got a few articles,--they are of the very newest fashion,
and I do hope that Mrs. Green will like them." And so they all went
up into the schoolroom.
"There's a new fashion come up lately," said Mrs. Mason as she walked
along the corridor, "quite new:--of metallic furniture. I don't know
whether you have seen any." Mrs. Green said she had not seen any as
yet.
"The Patent Steel Furniture Company makes it, and it has got very
greatly into vogue for small rooms. I thought that perhaps you would
allow me to present you with a set for your drawing-room."
"I'm sure it is very kind of you to think of it," said Mrs. Green.
"Uncommonly so," said Mr. Green. But both Mr. Green and Mrs. Green
knew the lady, and their hopes did not run high.
And then the door was opened and there stood the furniture to view.
There stood the furniture, except the three subtracted chairs, and
the loo table. The claw and leg of the table indeed were standing
there, but the top was folded up and lying on the floor beside it. "I
hope you'll like the pattern," began Mrs. Mason. "I'm told that it
is the prettiest that has yet been brought out. There has been some
little accident about the screw of the table, but the smith in the
village will put that to rights in five minutes. He lives so close to
you that I didn't think it worth while to have him up here."
"It's very nice," said Mrs. Green, looking round her almost in
dismay.
"Very nice indeed," said Mr. Green, wondering in his mind for
what purpose such utter trash could have been manufactured, and
endeavouring to make up his mind as to what they might possibly do
with it. Mr. Green knew what chairs and tables should be, and was
well aware that the things before him were absolutely useless for any
of the ordinary purposes of furniture.
"And they are the most convenient things in the world," said Mrs.
Mason, "for when you are going to change house you pack them all up
again in those boxes. Wooden furniture takes up so much room, and is
so lumbersome."
"Yes, it is," said Mrs. Green.
"I'll have them all put up again and sent down in the cart
to-morrow."
"Thank you; that will be very kind," said Mr. Green, and then the
ceremony of the presentation was over. On the following day the boxes
were sent down, and Mrs. Mason might have abstracted even another
chair without detection, for the cases lay unheeded from month to
month in the curate's still unfurnished room. "The fact is they
cannot afford a carpet," Mrs. Mason afterwards said to one of her
daughters, "and with such things as those they are quite right to
keep them up till they can be used with advantage. I always gave Mrs.
Green credit for a good deal of prudence."
And then, when the show was over, they descended again into the
drawing-room,--Mr. Green and Mrs. Mason went first, and Creusa
followed. Penelope was thus so far behind as to be able to speak to
her friend without being heard by the others.
"You know mamma," she said, with a shrug of her shoulders and a look
of scorn in her eye.
"The things are very nice."
"No, they are not, and you know they are not. They are worthless;
perfectly worthless."
"But we don't want anything."
"No; and if there had been no pretence of a gift it would all have
been very well. What will Mr. Green think?"
"I rather think he likes iron chairs;" and then they were in the
drawing-room.
Mr. Mason did not appear till dinner-time, and came in only just in
time to give his arm to Mrs. Green. He had had letters to write,--a
letter to Messrs. Round and Crook, very determined in its tone; and a
letter also to Mr. Dockwrath, for the little attorney had so crept on
in the affair that he was now corresponding with the principal. "I'll
teach those fellows in Bedford Row to know who I am," he had said to
himself more than once, sitting on his high stool at Hamworth.
And then came the Groby Park Christmas dinner. To speak the truth Mr.
Mason had himself gone to the neighbouring butcher, and ordered the
surloin of beef, knowing that it would be useless to trust to orders
conveyed through his wife. He had seen the piece of meat put on
one side for him, and had afterwards traced it on to the kitchen
dresser. But nevertheless when it appeared at table it had been
sadly mutilated. A steak had been cut off the full breadth of it--a
monstrous cantle from out its fair proportions. The lady had seen the
jovial, thick, ample size of the goodly joint, and her heart had been
unable to spare it. She had made an effort and turned away, saying to
herself that the responsibility was all with him. But it was of no
use. There was that within her which could not do it. "Your master
will never be able to carve such a mountain of meat as that," she had
said, turning back to the cook. "Deed, an' it's he that will, ma'am,"
said the Irish mistress of the spit; for Irish cooks are cheaper than
those bred and born in England. But nevertheless the thing was done,
and it was by her own fair hands that the envious knife was used. "I
couldn't do it, ma'am," the cook had said; "I couldn't railly."
Mr. Mason's face became very black when he saw the raid that had been
effected, and when he looked up across the table his wife's eye was
on him. She knew what she had to expect, and she knew also that it
would not come now. Her eye steadily looked at his, quivering with
fear; for Mr. Mason could be savage enough in his anger. And what had
she gained? One may as well ask what does the miser gain who hides
away his gold in an old pot, or what does that other madman gain
who is locked up for long long years because he fancies himself the
grandmother of the Queen of England?
But there was still enough beef on the table for all of them to
eat, and as Mrs. Mason was not intrusted with the carving of it,
their plates were filled. As far as a sufficiency of beef can make
a good dinner Mr. and Mrs. Green did have a good dinner on that
Christmas-day. Beyond that their comfort was limited, for no one was
in a humour for happy conversation.
And over and beyond the beef there was a plum-pudding and three
mince-pies. Four mince-pies had originally graced the dish, but
before dinner one had been conveyed away to some up stairs receptacle
for such spoils. The pudding also was small, nor was it black and
rich, and laden with good things as a Christmas pudding should be
laden. Let us hope that what the guests so lost was made up to them
on the following day, by an absence of those ill effects which
sometimes attend upon the consumption of rich viands.
"And now, my dear, we'll have a bit of bread and cheese and a glass
of beer," Mr. Green said when he arrived at his own cottage. And so
it was that Christmas-day was passed at Groby Park.