It was a brilliant match for Miss Bernardstone, who had no fortune at
all, and all her friends were of the opinion that she had done very well
After Easter she was in London with her people, and I saw a good deal
of them, in fact, I rather cultivated them. They might perhaps even have
thought me a little patronizing, if they had been given to thinking that
sort of thing. But they were not; that is not in their line. English
people are very apt to attribute motives,--some of them attribute much
worse ones than we poor simpletons in America recognize, than we have
even heard of! But that is only some of them; others don’t, but
take everything literally and genially. That was the case with the
Bernardstones; you could be sure that on their way home, after dining
with you, they would n’t ask each other how in the world any one could
call you pretty, or say that many people _did_ believe, all the same,
that you had poisoned your grandfather.
Lady Emily was exceedingly gratified at her daughter’s engagement; of
course she was very quiet about it, she did n’t clap her hands or drag
in Mr. Tester’s name; but it was easy to see that she felt a kind of
maternal peace, an abiding satisfaction. The young man behaved as well
as possible, was constantly seen with Joscelind, and smiled down at her
in the kindest, most protecting way. They looked beautiful together; you
would have said it was a duty for people whose color matched so well to
marry. Of course he was immensely taken up, and did n’t come very often
to see me; but he came sometimes, and when he sat there he had a look
which I did n’t understand at first. Presently I saw what it expressed;
in my drawing-room he was off duty, he had no longer to sit up and play
a part; he would lean back and rest and draw a long breath, and forget
that the day of his execution was fixed. There was to be no indecent
haste about the marriage; it was not to take place till after the
session, at the end of August It puzzled me and rather distressed me.
that his heart should n’t be a little more in the matter; it seemed
strange to be engaged to so charming a girl and yet go through with it
as if it were simply a social duty. If one had n’t been in love with her
at first, one ought to have been at the end of a week or two. If Ambrose
Tester was not (and to me he did n’t pretend to be), he carried it off,
as I have said, better than I should have expected. He was a gentleman,
and he behaved like a gentleman, with the added punctilio, I think, of
being sorry for his betrothed. But it was difficult to see what, in the
long run, he could expect to make of such a position. If a man
marries an ugly, unattractive woman for reasons of state, the thing is
comparatively simple; it is understood between them, and he need have
no remorse at not offering her a sentiment of which there has been
no question. But when he picks out a charming creature to gratify his
father and _les convenances_, it is not so easy to be happy in not
being able to care for her. It seemed to me that it would have been much
better for Ambrose Tester to bestow himself upon a girl who might have
given him an excuse for tepidity. His wife should have been healthy but
stupid, prolific but morose. Did he expect to continue not to be in
love with Joscelind, or to conceal from her the mechanical nature of his
attentions? It was difficult to see how he could wish to do the one or
succeed in doing the other. Did he expect such a girl as that would be
happy if he did n’t love her? and did he think himself capable of being
happy if it should turn out that she was miserable? If she should n’t
be miserable,--that is, if she should be indifferent, and, as they say,
console herself, would he like that any better?
I asked myself all these questions and I should have liked to ask them
of Mr. Tester; but I did n’t, for after all he could n’t have answered
them. Poor young man! he did n’t pry into things as I do; he was not
analytic, like us Americans, as they say in reviews. He thought he was
behaving remarkably well, and so he was--for a man; that was the strange
part of it. It had been proper that in spite of his reluctance he should
take a wife, and he had dutifully set about it. As a good thing is
better for being well done, he had taken the best one he could possibly
find. He was enchanted with--with his young lady, you might ask? Not
in the least; with himself; that is the sort of person a man is! Their
virtues are more dangerous than their vices, and Heaven preserve you
when they want to keep a promise! It is never a promise to _you_, you
will notice. A man will sacrifice a woman to live as a gentleman should,
and then ask for your sympathy--for _him_! And I don’t speak of the bad
ones, but of the good. They, after all, are the worst Ambrose Tester, as
I say, did n’t go into these details, but synthetic as he might be, was
conscious that his position was false. He felt that sooner or later, and
rather sooner than later, he would have to make it true,--a process that
could n’t possibly be agreeable. He would really have to make up his
mind to care for his wife or not to care for her. What would Lady
Vandeleur say to one alternative, and what would little Joscelind say to
the other? That is what it was to have a pertinacious father and to
be an accommodating son. With me, it was easy for Ambrose Tester to be
superficial, for, as I tell you, if I did n’t wish to engage him, I did
n’t wish to disengage him, and I did n’t insist Lady Vandeleur insisted,
I was afraid; to be with her was of course very complicated; even more
than Miss Bernardstone she must have made him feel that his position was
false. I must add that he once mentioned to me that she had told him
he ought to marry. At any rate, it is an immense thing to be a pleasant
fellow. Our young fellow was so universally pleasant that of course his
_fiancée_ came in for her share. So did Lady Emily, suffused with hope,
which made her pinker than ever; she told me he sent flowers even to
her. One day in the Park, I was riding early; the Row was almost empty.
I came up behind a lady and gentleman who were walking their horses,
close to each other, side by side In a moment I recognized her, but not
before seeing that nothing could have been more benevolent than the way
Ambrose Tester was bending over his future wife. If he struck me as a
lover at that moment, of course he struck her so. But that is n’t the
way they ride to-day.