MRS. FURNIVAL'S JOURNEY TO HAMWORTH.
When Peregrine got back to The Cleeve he learned that there was a
lady with his mother. He had by this time partially succeeded in
reasoning himself out of his despondency. He had learned at any rate
that his proposition to marry into the Staveley family had been
regarded with favour by all that family except the one whose views
on that subject were by far the most important to him; and he had
learned, as he thought, that Lady Staveley had no suspicion that her
daughter's heart was preoccupied. But in this respect Lady Staveley
had been too cunning for him. "Wait!" he said to himself as he went
slowly along the road. "It's all very well to say wait, but there
are some things which won't bear waiting for. A man who waits never
gets well away with the hounds." Nevertheless as he rode into the
courtyard his hopes were somewhat higher than they had been when he
rode out of it.
"A lady! what lady? You don't mean Lady Mason?"
No. The servant did not mean Lady Mason. It was an elderly stout lady
who had come in a fly, and the elderly stout lady was now in the
drawing-room with his mother. Lady Mason was still up stairs. We all
know who was that elderly stout lady, and we must now go back and say
a few words as to her journey from Orange Street to Hamworth.
On the preceding evening Mrs. Furnival had told Martha Biggs what was
her intention; Or perhaps it would be more just to say that Martha
Biggs had worked it out of her. Now that Mrs. Furnival had left the
fashionable neighbourhood of Cavendish Square, and located herself in
that eastern homely district to which Miss Biggs had been so long
accustomed, Miss Biggs had been almost tyrannical. It was not that
she was less attentive to her friend, or less willing to slave for
her with a view to any possible or impossible result. But the friend
of Mrs. Furnival's bosom could not help feeling her opportunity. Mrs.
Furnival had now thrown herself very much upon her friend, and of
course the friend now expected unlimited privileges;--as is always
the case with friends in such a position. It is very well to have
friends to lean upon, but it is not always well to lean upon one's
friends.
"I will be with you before you start in the morning," said Martha.
"It will not be at all necessary," said Mrs. Furnival.
"Oh, but I shall indeed. And, Kitty, I should think nothing of going
with you, if you would wish it. Indeed I think you should have a
female friend alongside of you in such a trouble. You have only to
say the word and I'll go in a minute."
Mrs. Furnival however did not say the word, and Miss Biggs was
obliged to deny herself the pleasure of the journey. But true to her
word she came in the morning in ample time to catch Mrs. Furnival
before she started, and for half an hour poured out sweet counsel
into her friend's ear. If one's friends would as a rule refrain from
action how much more strongly would real friendship flourish in the
world!
"Now, Kitty, I do trust you will persist in seeing her."
"That's why I'm going there."
"Yes; but she might put you off it, if you're not firm. Of course
she'll deny herself if you send in your name first. What I should do
would be this;--to ask to be shown in to her and then follow the
servant. When the happiness of a life is at stake,--the happinesses
of two lives I may say, and perhaps the immortal welfare of one of
them in another world,--one must not stand too much upon etiquette.
You would never forgive yourself if you did. Your object is to save
him and to shame her out of her vile conduct. To shame her and
frighten her out of it if that be possible. Follow the servant in and
don't give them a moment to think. That's my advice."
In answer to all this Mrs. Furnival did not say much, and what little
she did say was neither in the affirmative nor in the negative.
Martha knew that she was being ill treated, but not on that account
did she relax her friendly efforts. The time would soon come, if
all things went well, when Mrs. Furnival would be driven by the
loneliness of her position to open her heart in a truly loving and
confidential manner. Miss Biggs hoped sincerely that her friend and
her friend's husband might be brought together again;--perhaps by
her own efforts; but she did not anticipate,--or perhaps desire any
speedy termination of the present arrangements. It would be well
that Mr. Furnival should be punished by a separation of some months.
Then, when he had learned to know what it was to have a home without
a "presiding genius," he might, if duly penitent and open in his
confession, be forgiven. That was Miss Biggs's programme, and she
thought it probable that Mrs. Furnival might want a good deal of
consolation before that day of open confession arrived.
"I shall go with you as far as the station, Kitty," she said in a
very decided voice.
"It will not be at all necessary," Mrs. Furnival replied.
"Oh, but I shall. You must want support at such a moment as this, and
as far as I can give it you shall have it."
"But it won't be any support to have you in the cab with me. If you
will believe me, I had rather go alone. It is so necessary that I
should think about all this."
But Martha would not believe her; and as for thinking, she was quite
ready to take that part of the work herself. "Don't say another
word," she said, as she thrust herself in at the cab-door after her
friend. Mrs. Furnival hardly did say another word, but Martha Biggs
said many. She knew that Mrs. Furnival was cross, ill pleased, and
not disposed to confidence. But what of that? Her duty as a friend
was not altered by Mrs. Furnival's ill humour. She would persevere,
and having in her hands so great an opportunity, did not despair but
what the time might come when both Mr. and Mrs. Furnival would with
united voices hail her as their preserver. Poor Martha Biggs! She did
not mean amiss; but she was troublesome.
It was very necessary that Mrs. Furnival should think over the step
which she was taking. What was it that she intended to do when she
arrived at Hamworth? That plan of forcing her way into Lady Mason's
house did not recommend itself to her the more in that it was
recommended by Martha Biggs. "I suppose you will come up to us this
evening?" Martha said, when she left her friend in the railway
carriage. "Not this evening, I think. I shall be so tired," Mrs.
Furnival had replied. "Then I shall come down to you," said Martha,
almost holloaing after her friend, as the train started. Mr. Furnival
would not have been displeased had he known the state of his wife's
mind at that moment towards her late visitor. During the whole of her
journey down to Hamworth she tried to think what she would say to
Lady Mason, but instead of so thinking her mind would revert to the
unpleasantness of Miss Biggs's friendship.
When she left the train at the Hamworth station she was solicited by
the driver of a public vehicle to use his fly, and having ascertained
from the man that he well knew the position of Orley Farm, she got
into the carriage and had herself driven to the residence of her
hated rival. She had often heard of Orley Farm, but she had never as
yet seen it, and now felt considerable anxiety both as regards the
house and its occupant.
"This is Orley Farm, ma'am," said the man, stopping at the gate.
"Shall I drive up?"
But at this moment the gate was opened by a decent, respectable
woman,--Mrs. Furnival would not quite have called her a lady,--who
looked hard at the fly as it turned on to the private road.
"Perhaps this lady could tell me," said Mrs. Furnival, putting out
her hand. "Is this where Lady Mason lives?"
The woman was Mrs. Dockwrath. On that day Samuel Dockwrath had gone
to London, but before starting he had made known to his wife with
fiendish glee that it had been at last decided by all the persons
concerned that Lady Mason should be charged with perjury, and tried
for that offence.
"You don't mean to say that the judges have said so?" asked poor
Miriam.
"I do mean to say that all the judges in England could not save her
from having to stand her trial, and it is my belief that all the
lawyers in the land cannot save her from conviction. I wonder whether
she ever thinks now of those fields which she took away from me!"
Then, when her master's back was turned, she put on her bonnet and
walked up to Orley Farm. She knew well that Lady Mason was at The
Cleeve, and believed that she was about to become the wife of Sir
Peregrine; but she knew also that Lucius was at home, and it might
be well to let him know what was going on. She had just seen Lucius
Mason when she was met by Mrs. Furnival's fly. She had seen Lucius
Mason, and the angry manner in which he declared that he could in no
way interfere in his mother's affairs had frightened her. "But, Mr.
Lucius," she had said, "she ought to be doing something, you know.
There is no believing how bitter Samuel is about it."
"He may be as bitter as he likes, Mrs. Dockwrath," young Mason had
answered with considerable dignity in his manner. "It will not in the
least affect my mother's interests. In the present instance, however,
I am not her adviser." Whereupon Mrs. Dockwrath had retired, and as
she was afraid to go to Lady Mason at The Cleeve, she was about to
return home when she opened the gate for Mrs. Furnival. She then
explained that Lady Mason was not at home and had not been at home
for some weeks; that she was staying with her friends at The Cleeve,
and that in order to get there Mrs. Furnival must go back through
Hamworth and round by the high road.
"I knows the way well enough, Mrs. Dockwrath," said the driver. "I've
been at The Cleeve before now, I guess."
So Mrs. Furnival was driven back to Hamworth, and on going over that
piece of ground she resolved that she would follow Lady Mason to The
Cleeve. Why should she be afraid of Sir Peregrine Orme or of all the
Ormes? Why should she fear any one while engaged in the performance
of so sacred a duty? I must confess that in truth she was very much
afraid, but nevertheless she had herself taken on to The Cleeve. When
she arrived at the door, she asked of course for Lady Mason, but did
not feel at all inclined to follow the servant uninvited into the
house as recommended by Miss Biggs. Lady Mason, the man said, was
not very well, and after a certain amount of parley at the door the
matter ended in her being shown into the drawing-room, where she was
soon joined by Mrs. Orme.
"I am Mrs. Furnival," she began, and then Mrs. Orme begged her to sit
down. "I have come here to see Lady Mason--on some business--some
business not of a very pleasant nature. I'm sure I don't know how to
trouble you with it, and yet--" And then even Mrs. Orme could see
that her visitor was somewhat confused.
"Is it about the trial?" asked Mrs. Orme.
"Then there is really a lawsuit going on?"
"A lawsuit!" said Mrs. Orme, rather puzzled.
"You said something about a trial. Now, Mrs. Orme, pray do not
deceive me. I'm a very unhappy woman; I am indeed."
"Deceive you! Why should I deceive you?"
"No, indeed. Why should you? And now I look at you I do not think you
will."
"Indeed I will not, Mrs. Furnival."
"And there is really a lawsuit then?" Mrs. Furnival persisted in
asking.
"I thought you would know all about it," said Mrs. Orme, "as Mr.
Furnival manages Lady Mason's law business. I thought that perhaps it
was about that that you had come."
Then Mrs. Furnival explained that she knew nothing whatever about
Lady Mason's affairs, that hitherto she had not believed that there
was any trial or any lawsuit, and gradually explained the cause of
all her trouble. She did not do this without sundry interruptions,
caused both by her own feelings and by Mrs. Orme's exclamations. But
at last it all came forth; and before she had done she was calling
her husband Tom, and appealing to her listener for sympathy.
"But indeed it's a mistake, Mrs. Furnival. It is indeed. There are
reasons which make me quite sure of it." So spoke Mrs. Orme. How
could Lady Mason have been in love with Mr. Furnival,--if such a
state of things could be possible under any circumstances,--seeing
that she had been engaged to marry Sir Peregrine? Mrs. Orme did not
declare her reasons, but repeated with very positive assurances her
knowledge that Mrs. Furnival was labouring under some very grievous
error.
"But why should she always be at his chambers? I have seen her there
twice, Mrs. Orme. I have indeed;--with my own eyes."
Mrs. Orme would have thought nothing of it if Lady Mason had
been seen there every day for a week together, and regarded Mrs.
Furnival's suspicions as an hallucination bordering on insanity. A
woman be in love with Mr. Furnival! A very pretty woman endeavour
to entice away from his wife the affection of such a man as that!
As these ideas passed through Mrs. Orme's mind she did not perhaps
remember that Sir Peregrine, who was more than ten years Mr.
Furnival's senior, had been engaged to marry the same lady. But then
she herself loved Sir Peregrine dearly, and she had no such feeling
with reference to Mr. Furnival. She however did what was most within
her power to do to allay the suffering under which her visitor
laboured, and explained to her the position in which Lady Mason was
placed. "I do not think she can see you," she ended by saying, "for
she is in very great trouble."
"To be tried for perjury!" said Mrs. Furnival, out of whose heart all
hatred towards Lady Mason was quickly departing. Had she heard that
she was to be tried for murder,--that she had been convicted for
murder,--it would have altogether softened her heart towards her
supposed enemy. She could forgive her any offence but the one.
"Yes indeed," said Mrs. Orme, wiping a tear away from her eye as she
thought of all the troubles present and to come. "It is the saddest
thing. Poor lady! It would almost break your heart if you were to see
her. Since first she heard of this, which was before Christmas, she
has not had one quiet moment."
"Poor creature!" said Mrs. Furnival.
"Ah, you would say so, if you knew all. She has had to depend a great
deal upon Mr. Furnival for advice, and without that I don't know
what she would do." This Mrs. Orme said, not wishing to revert to
the charge against Lady Mason which had brought Mrs. Furnival down
to Hamworth, but still desirous of emancipating her poor friend
completely from that charge. "And Sir Peregrine also is very kind
to her,--very." This she added; feeling that up to that moment Mrs.
Furnival could have heard nothing of the intended marriage, but
thinking it probable that she must do so before long. "Indeed anybody
would be kind to her who saw her in her suffering. I am sure you
would, Mrs. Furnival."
"Dear, dear!" said Mrs. Furnival who was beginning to entertain
almost a kindly feeling towards Mrs. Orme.
"It is such a dreadful position for a lady. Sometimes I think that
her mind will fail her before the day comes."
"But what a very wicked man that other Mr. Mason must be!" said Mrs.
Furnival.
That was a view of the matter on which Mrs. Orme could not say much.
She disliked that Mr. Mason as much as she could dislike a man whom
she had never seen, but it was not open to her now to say that he was
very wicked in this matter. "I suppose he thinks the property ought
to belong to him," she answered.
"That was settled years ago," said Mrs. Furnival. "Horrid, cruel man!
But after all I don't see why she should mind it so much."
"Oh, Mrs. Furnival!--to stand in a court and be tried."
"But if one is innocent! For my part, if I knew myself innocent I
could brave them all. It is the feeling that one is wrong that cows
one." And Mrs. Furnival thought of the little confession which she
would be called upon to make at home.
And then feeling some difficulty as to her last words in such an
interview, Mrs. Furnival got up to go. "Perhaps, Mrs. Orme," she
said, "I have been foolish in this."
"You have been mistaken, Mrs. Furnival. I am sure of that."
"I begin to think I have. But, Mrs. Orme, will you let me ask you
a favour? Perhaps you will not say anything about my coming here.
I have been very unhappy; I have indeed; and--" Mrs. Furnival's
handkerchief was now up at her eyes, and Mrs. Orme's heart was again
full of pity. Of course she gave the required promise; and, looking
to the character of the woman, we may say that, of course, she kept
it.
"Mrs. Furnival! What was she here about?" Peregrine asked of his
mother.
"I would rather not tell you, Perry," said his mother, kissing him;
and then there were no more words spoken on the subject.
Mrs. Furnival as she made her journey back to London began to dislike
Martha Biggs more and more, and most unjustly attributed to that lady
in her thoughts the folly of this journey to Hamworth. The journey
to Hamworth had been her own doing, and had the idea originated with
Miss Biggs the journey would never have been made. As it was, while
she was yet in the train, she came to the strong resolution of
returning direct from the London station to her own house in Harley
Street. It would be best to cut the knot at once, and thus by a bold
stroke of the knife rid herself of the Orange Street rooms and Miss
Biggs at the same time. She did drive to Harley Street, and on her
arrival at her own door was informed by the astonished Spooner that,
"Master was at home,--all alone in the dining-room. He was going to
dine at home, and seemed very lonely like." There, as she stood in
the hall, there was nothing but the door between her and her husband,
and she conceived that the sound of her arrival must have been
heard by him. For a moment her courage was weak, and she thought of
hurrying up stairs. Had she done so her trouble would still have been
all before her. Some idea of this came upon her mind, and after a
moment's pause, she opened the dining-room door and found herself
in her husband's presence. He was sitting over the fire in his
arm-chair, very gloomily, and had not heard the arrival. He too had
some tenderness left in his heart, and this going away of his wife
had distressed him.
"Tom," she said, going up to him, and speaking in a low voice, "I
have come back again." And she stood before him as a suppliant.
[Illustration: "Tom," she said, "I have come back."]