THE SOLICITOR-GENERAL PERSEVERES.
There was considerable difficulty in making the overture to the
two ladies,--or rather in making it to the elder lady; for the
suggestion, if made to the daughter, must of course come to her from
her mother. It had been decided at last that the Lady Anna could not
be invited to the rectory till it had been positively settled that
she should be the Lady Anna without further opposition; and that all
opposition to the claim should be withdrawn, at any rate till it was
found that the young people were not inclined to be engaged to each
other. "How can I call her Lady Anna before I have made up my mind to
think that she is Lady Anna?" said the parson, almost in tears. As to
the rest of the family, it may be said that they had come silently to
think that the Countess was the Countess and that the Lady Anna was
the Lady Anna;--silently in reference to each other, for not one of
them except the young lord had positively owned to such a conviction.
Sir William Patterson had been too strong for them. It was true that
he was a Whig. It was possible that he was a traitor. But he was a
man of might, and his opinion had domineered over theirs. To make
things as straight as they could be made it would be well that the
young people should be married. What would be the Earldom of Lovel
without the wealth which the old mad Earl had amassed?
Sir William and Mr. Flick were strongly in favour of the marriage,
and Mr. Hardy at last assented. The worst of it was that something of
all this doubt on the part of the Earl and his friends was sure to
reach the opposite party. "They are shaking in their shoes," Serjeant
Bluestone said to his junior counsel, Mr. Mainsail. "I do believe
they are not going to fight at all," he said to Mr. Goffe, the
attorney for the Countess. Mr. Mainsail rubbed his hands. Mr. Goffe
shook his head. Mr. Goffe was sure that they would fight. Mr.
Mainsail, who had worked like a horse in getting up and arranging all
the evidence on behalf of the Countess, and in sifting, as best he
might, the Italian documents, was delighted. All this Sir William
feared, and he felt that it was quite possible that the Earl's
overture might be rejected because the Earl would not be thought to
be worth having. "We must count upon his coronet," said Sir William
to Mr. Flick. "She could not do better even if the property were
undoubtedly her own."
But how was the first suggestion to be made? Mr. Hardy was anxious
that everything should be straightforward,--and Sir William assented,
with a certain inward peevishness at Mr. Hardy's stiff-necked
propriety. Sir William was anxious to settle the thing comfortably
for all parties. Mr. Hardy was determined not only that right should
be done, but also that it should be done in a righteous manner. The
great question now was whether they could approach the widow and her
daughter otherwise than through Serjeant Bluestone. "The Serjeant is
such a blunderbuss," said the Solicitor-General. But the Serjeant
was counsel for these ladies, and it was at last settled that there
should be a general conference at Sir William's chambers. A very
short note was written by Mr. Flick to Mr. Goffe, stating that the
Solicitor-General thought that a meeting might be for the advantage
of all parties;--and the meeting was arranged. There were present
the two barristers and the one attorney for each side, and many an
anxious thought was given to the manner in which the meeting should
be conducted. Serjeant Bluestone was fully resolved that he would
hold his own against the Solicitor-General, and would speak his mind
freely. Mr. Mainsail got up little telling questions. Mr. Goffe and
Mr. Flick both felt that it would behove them to hold their peace,
unless questioned, but were equally determined to hang fast by their
clients. Mr. Hardy in his heart of hearts thought that his learned
friend was about to fling away his case. Sir William had quite
made up his mind as to his line of action. He seated them all most
courteously, giving them place according to their rank,--a great
arm-chair for Serjeant Bluestone, from which the Serjeant would
hardly be able to use his arms with his accustomed energy,--and then
he began at once. "Gentlemen," said he, "it would be a great pity
that this property should be wasted."
"No fear of that, Mr. Solicitor," said the Serjeant.
"It would be a great pity that this property should be wasted,"
repeated Sir William, bowing to the Serjeant, "and I am disposed to
think that the best thing the two young people can do is to marry
each other." Then he paused, and the three gentlemen opposite sat
erect, the barristers as speechless as the attorneys. But the
Solicitor-General had nothing to add. He had made his proposition,
and was desirous of seeing what effect it might have before he spoke
another word.
"Then you acknowledge the Countess's marriage, of course," said the
Serjeant.
"Pardon me, Serjeant, we acknowledge nothing. As a matter of course
she is the Countess till it be proved that another wife was living
when she was married."
"Quite as a matter of course," said the Serjeant.
"Quite as a matter of course, if that will make the case stronger,"
continued Sir William. "Her marriage was formal and regular. That she
believed her marriage to be a righteous marriage before God, I have
never doubted. God forbid that I should have a harsh thought against
a poor lady who has suffered so much cruel treatment."
"Why have things been said then?" asked the Serjeant, beginning to
throw about his left arm.
"If I am not mistaken," said Mr. Mainsail, "evidence has been
prepared to show that the Countess is a party to a contemplated
fraud."
"Then you are mistaken, Mr. Mainsail," said Sir William. "I admit
at once and clearly that the lady is not suspected of any fraud.
Whether she be actually the Countess Lovel or not it may,--I fear
it must,--take years to prove, if the law be allowed to take its
course."
"We think that we can dispose of any counter-claim in much less time
than that," said the Serjeant.
"It may be so. I myself think that it would not be so. Our
evidence in favour of the lady, who is now living some two leagues
out of Palermo, is very strong. She is a poor creature, old,
ignorant,--fairly well off through the bounty of the late Earl,
but always craving for some trifle more,--unwilling to come to
this country,--childless, and altogether indifferent to the second
marriage, except in so far as might interfere with her hopes of
getting some further subsidy from the Lovel family. One is not
very anxious on her behalf. One is only anxious,--can only be
anxious,--that the vast property at stake should not get into
improper hands."
"And that justice should be done," said Mr. Hardy.
"And that justice should be done of course, as my friend observes.
Here is a young man who is undoubtedly Earl of Lovel, and who claims
a property as heir to the late Earl. And here is a young lady, I am
told very beautiful and highly educated, who is the daughter of the
late Earl, and who claims that property believing herself to be his
legitimate heiress. The question between them is most intricate."
"The onus probandi lies with you, Mr. Solicitor," said the Serjeant.
"We acknowledge that it does, but the case on that account is none
the less intricate. With the view of avoiding litigation and expense,
and in the certainty that by such an arrangement the enjoyment of the
property will fall to the right owner, we propose that steps shall be
taken to bring these two young people together. The lady, whom for
the occasion I am quite willing to call the Countess, the mother of
the lady whom I hope the young Earl will make his own Countess, has
not been sounded on this subject."
"I should hope not," said the Serjeant.
"My excellent friend takes me up a little short," said Sir William,
laughing. "You gentlemen will probably consult together on the
subject, and whatever may be the advice which you shall consider it
to be your duty to give to the mother,--and I am sure that you will
feel bound to let her know the proposition that has been made; I do
not hesitate to say that we have a right to expect that it shall be
made known to her,--I need hardly remark that were the young lady to
accept the young lord's hand we should all be in a boat together in
reference to the mother's rank, and to the widow's claim upon the
personal property left behind him by her late husband."
And so the Solicitor-General had made his proposition, and the
conference was broken up with a promise that Mr. Flick should hear
from Mr. Goffe upon the subject. But the Serjeant had at once made
up his mind against the compromise now proposed. He desired the
danger and the dust and the glory of the battle. He was true to his
clients' interests, no doubt,--intended to be intensely true; but the
personal, doggish love of fighting prevailed in the man, and he was
clear as to the necessity of going on. "They know they are beat," he
said to Mr. Goffe. "Mr. Solicitor knows as well as I do that he has
not an inch of ground under his feet." Therefore Mr. Goffe wrote the
following letter to Messrs. Norton and Flick:--
Raymond's Buildings, Gray's Inn,
1st July, 183--.
DEAR SIRS,
In reference to the interview which took place at the
chambers of the Solicitor-General on the 27th ult., we
are to inform you that we are not disposed, as acting for
our clients, the Countess of Lovel and her daughter the
Lady Anna Lovel, to listen to the proposition then made.
Apart from the very strong feeling we entertain as to the
certainty of our client's success,--which certainly was
not weakened by what we heard on that occasion,--we are
of opinion that we could not interfere with propriety in
suggesting the marriage of two young persons who have not
as yet had any opportunity of becoming acquainted with
each other. Should the Earl of Lovel seek the hand of
his cousin, the Lady Anna Lovel, and marry her with the
consent of the Countess, we should be delighted at such
a family arrangement; but we do not think that we, as
lawyers,--or, if we may be allowed to say so, that you as
lawyers,--have anything to do with such a matter.
We are, dear Sirs,
Yours very faithfully,
GOFFE AND GOFFE.
Messrs. Norton and Flick.
"Balderdash!" said Sir William, when he had read the letter. "We are
not going to be done in that way. It was all very well going to that
Serjeant as he has the case in hand, though a worse messenger in an
affair of love--"
"Not love, as yet, Mr. Solicitor," said Mr. Flick.
"I mean it to be love, and I'm not going to be put off by Serjeant
Bluestone. We must get to the lady by some other means. Do you write
to that tailor down at Keswick, and say that you want to see him."
"Will that be regular, Sir William?"
"I'll stand the racket, Mr. Flick." Mr. Flick did write to Thomas
Thwaite, and Thomas Thwaite came up to London and called at Mr.
Flick's chambers.
When Thomas Thwaite received his commission he was much rejoiced.
Injustice would be done him unless so much were owned on his behalf.
But, nevertheless, some feeling of disappointment which he could not
analyze crept across his heart. If once the girl were married to Earl
Lovel there would be an end of his services and of his son's. He had
never really entertained an idea that his son would marry the girl.
As the reader will perhaps remember, he had warned his son that he
must seek a sweetheart elsewhere. He had told himself over and over
again that when the Countess came to her own there must be an end of
this intimacy,--that there could be nothing in common between him,
the radical tailor of Keswick, and a really established Countess.
The Countess, while not yet really established, had already begged
that his son might be instructed not to call her daughter simply by
her Christian name. Old Thwaite on receiving this intimation of the
difference of their positions, though he had acknowledged its truth,
had felt himself bitterly aggrieved, and now the moment had come. Of
course the Countess would grasp at such an offer. Of course it would
give her all that she had desired, and much more than she expected.
In adjusting his feelings on the occasion the tailor thought but
little of the girl herself. Why should she not be satisfied? Of the
young Earl he had only heard that he was a handsome, modest, gallant
lad, who only wanted a fortune to make him one of the most popular
of the golden youth of England. Why should not the girl rejoice
at the prospect of winning such a husband? To have a husband must
necessarily be in her heart, whether she were the Lady Anna Lovel,
or plain Anna Murray. And what espousals could be so auspicious as
these? Feeling all this, without much of calculation, the tailor said
that he would do as he was bidden. "We have sent for you because we
know that you have been so old a friend," said Mr. Flick, who did
not quite approve of the emissary whom he had been instructed by Sir
William to employ.
"I will do my best, sir," said Mr. Thwaite, making his bow. Thomas
Thwaite, as he went along the streets alone, determined that he would
perform this new duty imposed upon him without any reference to his
son.