NO DISGRACE AT ALL.
Before the Solicitor-General returned to town things had come to
a worse pass than ever. Lady Lovel had ordered her daughter to be
ready to start to Paris by a certain hour, on a certain day,--giving
her three days for preparation,--and Lady Anna had refused to go.
Whereupon the Countess had caused her own things to be packed up, and
those of her daughter. Sarah was now altogether in the confidence of
the Countess, so that Lady Anna had not even dominion over her own
clothes. The things were stowed away, and all the arrangements were
made for the journey; but Lady Anna refused to go, and when the hour
came could not be induced to get into the carriage. The lodgings had
been paid for to the day, and given up; so that the poor old woman
in Keppel Street was beside herself. Then the Countess, of necessity,
postponed her journey for twenty-four hours, telling her daughter
that on the next day she would procure the assistance of magistrates
and force the rebel to obedience.
Hardly a word had been spoken between the mother and daughter
during those three days. There had been messages sent backwards and
forwards, and once or twice the Countess had violently entered Lady
Anna's bedroom, demanding submission. Lady Anna was always on the
bed when her mother entered, and, there lying, would shake her head,
and then with sobs accuse the Countess of unkindness. Lady Lovel had
become furious in her wrath, hardly knowing what she herself did or
said, always asserting her own authority, declaring her own power,
and exclaiming against the wicked ingratitude of her child. This
she did till the young waiting-woman was so frightened that she was
almost determined to leave the house abruptly, though keenly alive to
the profit and glory of serving a violent and rich countess. And the
old lady who let the lodgings was intensely anxious to be rid of her
lodgers, though her money was scrupulously paid, and no questions
asked as to extra charges. Lady Anna was silent and sullen. When
left to herself she spent her time at her writing-desk, of which she
had managed to keep the key. What meals she took were brought up to
her bedroom, so that a household more uncomfortable could hardly be
gathered under a roof.
On the day fixed for that departure which did not take place, the
Countess wrote to Mr. Goffe for assistance,--and Lady Anna, by the
aid of the mistress of the house, wrote to Serjeant Bluestone. The
letter to Mr. Goffe was the first step taken towards obtaining that
assistance from civil authorities to which the Countess thought
herself to be entitled in order that her legal dominion over her
daughter might be enforced. Lady Anna wrote to the Serjeant, simply
begging that he would come to see her, putting her letter open into
the hands of the landlady. She implored him to come at once,--and,
as it happened, he called in Keppel Street that night, whereas Mr.
Goffe's visit was not made till the next morning. He asked for the
Countess, and was shown into the drawing-room. The whole truth
was soon made clear to him, for the Countess attempted to conceal
nothing. Her child was rebelling against authority, and she was sure
that the Serjeant would assist her in putting down and conquering
such pernicious obstinacy. But she found at once that the Serjeant
would not help her. "But Lady Anna will be herself of age in a day or
two," he said.
"Not for nearly two months," said the Countess indignantly.
"My dear Lady Lovel, under such circumstances you can hardly put
constraint upon her."
"Why not? She is of age, or she is not. Till she be of age she is
bound to obey me."
"True;--she is bound to obey you after a fashion, and so indeed she
would be had she been of age a month since. But such obligations here
in England go for very little, unless they are supported by reason."
"The law is the law."
"Yes;--but the law would be all in her favour before you could get it
to assist you,--even if you could get its assistance. In her peculiar
position, it is rational that she should choose to wait till she
be able to act for herself. Very great interests will be at her
disposal, and she will of course wish to be near those who can advise
her."
"I am her only guardian. I can advise her." The Serjeant shook his
head. "You will not help me then?"
"I fear I cannot help you, Lady Lovel."
"Not though you know the reasons which induce me to take her away
from England before she slips entirely out of my hands and ruins all
our hopes?" But still the Serjeant shook his head. "Every one is
leagued against me," said the Countess, throwing up her hands in
despair.
Then the Serjeant asked permission to visit Lady Anna, but was told
that he could not be allowed to do so. She was in bed, and there was
nothing to make it necessary that she should receive a visit from a
gentleman in her bedroom. "I am an old man," said the Serjeant, "and
have endeavoured to be a true and honest friend to the young lady.
I think, Lady Lovel, that you will do wrong to refuse my request.
I tell you fairly that I shall be bound to interfere on her behalf.
She has applied to me as her friend, and I feel myself constrained to
attend to her application."
"She has applied to you?"
"Yes, Lady Lovel. There is her letter."
"She has deceived me again," said the Countess, tearing the letter
into atoms. But the Serjeant so far frightened her that she was
induced to promise that Mrs. Bluestone should see Lady Anna on the
following morning,--stipulating, however, that Mrs. Bluestone should
see herself before she went up-stairs.
On the following morning Mr. Goffe came early. But Mr. Goffe
could give his client very little comfort. He was, however, less
uncomfortable than the Serjeant had been. He was of opinion that
Lady Anna certainly ought to go abroad, in obedience to her mother's
instructions, and was willing to go to her and tell her so, with what
solemnity of legal authority he might be able to assume; but he could
not say that anything could be done absolutely to enforce obedience.
Mr. Goffe suggested that perhaps a few gentle words might be
successful. "Gentle words!" said the Countess, who had become quite
unable to restrain herself. "The harshest words are only too gentle
for her. If I had known what she was, Mr. Goffe, I would never have
stirred in this business. They might have called me what they would,
and it would have been better." When Mr. Goffe came downstairs
he had not a word to say more as to the efficacy of gentleness.
He simply remarked that he did not think the young lady could be
induced to go, and suggested that everybody had better wait till the
Solicitor-General returned to town.
Then Mrs. Bluestone came, almost on the heels of the attorney;--poor
Mrs. Bluestone, who now felt that it was a dreadful grievance both
to her and to her husband that they had had anything to do with the
Lovel family! She was very formal in her manner,--and, to tell the
truth for her, rather frightened. The Serjeant had asked her to call
and see Lady Anna Lovel. Might she be permitted to do so? Then the
Countess burst forth with a long story of all her wrongs,--with the
history of her whole life. Not beginning with her marriage,--but
working back to it from the intense misery, and equally intense
ambition of the present hour. She told it all; how everybody had been
against her,--how she had been all alone at the dreary Grange in
Westmoreland,--how she had been betrayed by her husband, and turned
out to poverty and scorn;--how she had borne it all for the sake of
the one child who was, by God's laws and man's, the heiress to her
father's name; how she had persevered,--intermingling it all with a
certain worship of high honours and hereditary position with which
Mrs. Bluestone was able in some degree to sympathise. She was clever,
and words came to her freely. It was almost impossible that any
hearer should refuse to sympathise with her,--any hearer who knew
that her words were true. And all that she told was true. The things
which she narrated had been done;--the wrongs had been endured;--and
the end of it all which she feared, was imminent. And the hearer
thought as did the speaker as to the baseness of this marriage with
the tailor,--thought as did the speaker of the excellence of the
marriage with the lord. But still there was something in the woman's
eye,--something in the tone of her voice, something in the very
motion of her hands as she told her story, which made Mrs. Bluestone
feel that Lady Anna should not be left under her mother's control.
It would be very well that the Lovel family should be supported, and
that Lady Anna should be kept within the pale of her own rank. But
there might be things worse than Lady Anna's defection,--and worse
even than the very downfall of the Lovels.
After sitting for nearly two hours with the Countess, Mrs. Bluestone
was taken up-stairs. "Mrs. Bluestone has come to see you," said the
Countess, not entering the room, and retreating again immediately as
she closed the door.
"This is very kind of you, Mrs. Bluestone," said Lady Anna, who was
sitting crouching in her dressing-gown over the fire. "But I thought
that perhaps the Serjeant would come." The lady, taken off her guard,
immediately said that the Serjeant had been there on the preceding
evening. "And mamma would not let me see him! But you will help me!"
In this interview, as in that below, a long history was told to the
visitor, and was told with an eloquent energy which she certainly had
not expected. "They talk to me of ladies," said Lady Anna. "I was not
a lady. I knew nothing of ladies and their doings. I was a poor girl,
friendless but for my mother, sometimes almost without shoes to my
feet, often ragged, solitary, knowing nothing of ladies. Then there
came one lad, who played with me;--and it was mamma who brought us
together. He was good to me, when all others were bad. He played with
me, and gave me things, and taught me,--and loved me. Then when he
asked me to love him again, and to love him always, was I to think
that I could not,--because I was a lady! You despise him because he
is a tailor. A tailor was good to me, when no one else was good. How
could I despise him because he was a tailor? I did not despise him,
but I loved him with all my heart."
"But when you came to know who you were, Lady Anna--"
"Yes;--yes. I came to know who I was, and they brought my cousin to
me, and told me to love him, and bade me be a lady indeed. I felt it
too, for a time. I thought it would be pleasant to be a Countess, and
to go among great people; and he was pleasant, and I thought that I
could love him too, and do as they bade me. But when I thought of it
much,--when I thought of it alone,--I hated myself. In my heart of
hearts I loved him who had always been my friend. And when Lord Lovel
came to me at Bolton, and said that I must give my answer then,--I
told him all the truth. I am glad I told him the truth. He should not
have come again after that. If Daniel is so poor a creature because
he is a tailor,--must not I be poor who love him? And what must he be
when he comes to me again after that?"
When Mrs. Bluestone descended from the room she was quite sure that
the girl would become Lady Anna Thwaite, and told the Countess that
such was her opinion. "By the God above me," said the Countess rising
from her chair;--"by the God above me, she never shall." But after
that the Countess gave up her project of forcing her daughter to go
abroad. The old lady of the house was told that the rooms would still
be required for some weeks to come,--perhaps for months; and having
had a conference on the subject with Mrs. Bluestone, did not refuse
her consent.
At last Sir William returned to town, and was besieged on all sides,
as though in his hands lay the power of deciding what should become
of all the Lovel family. Mr. Goffe was as confidential with him as
Mr. Flick, and even Serjeant Bluestone condescended to appeal to him.
The young Earl was closeted with him on the day of his return, and he
had found on his desk the following note from the Countess;--
"The Countess Lovel presents her compliments to the
Solicitor-General. The Countess is very anxious to leave England
with her daughter, but has hitherto been prevented by her child's
obstinacy. Sir William Patterson is so well aware of all the
circumstances that he no doubt can give the Countess advice as to the
manner in which she should proceed to enforce the obedience of her
daughter. The Countess Lovel would feel herself unwarranted in thus
trespassing on the Solicitor-General, were it not that it is her
chief anxiety to do everything for the good of Earl Lovel and the
family."
"Look at that, my lord," said the Solicitor-General, showing the Earl
the letter. "I can do nothing for her."
"What does she want to have done?"
"She wants to carry her daughter away beyond the reach of Mr.
Thwaite. I am not a bit surprised; but she can't do it. The days
are gone by when a mother could lock her daughter up, or carry her
away,--at any rate in this country."
"It is very sad."
"It might have been much worse. Why should she not marry Mr. Thwaite?
Let them make the settlement as they propose, and then let the young
lady have her way. She will have her way,--whether her mother lets
her or no."
"It will be a disgrace to the family, Sir William."
"No disgrace at all! How many peers' daughters marry commoners in
England. It is not with us as it is with some German countries in
which noble blood is separated as by a barrier from blood that is not
noble. The man I am told is clever and honest. He will have great
means at his command, and I do not see why he should not make as
good a gentleman as the best of us. At any rate she must not be
persecuted."
Sir William answered the Countess's letter as a matter of course, but
there was no comfort in his answer. "The Solicitor-General presents
his compliments to the Countess Lovel. With all the will in the world
to be of service, he fears that he can do no good by interfering
between the Countess and Lady Anna Lovel. If, however, he may venture
to give advice, he would suggest to the Countess that as Lady Anna
will be of age in a short time, no attempt should now be made to
exercise a control which must cease when that time shall arrive."
"They are all joined against me," said the Countess, when she read
the letter;--"every one of them! But still it shall never be. I will
not live to see it."
Then there was a meeting between Mr. Flick and Sir William. Mr. Flick
must inform the ladies that nothing could be done till Lady Anna
was of age;--that not even could any instructions be taken from her
before that time as to what should subsequently be done. If, when
that time came, she should still be of a mind to share with her
cousin the property, she could then instruct Mr. Goffe to make out
the necessary deeds.
All this was communicated by letter to the Countess, but Mr. Goffe
especially requested that the letter might be shown to Lady Anna, and
that he might receive a reply intimating that Lady Anna understood
its purport. If necessary he would call upon Lady Anna in Keppel
Street. After some delay and much consideration, the Countess sent
the attorney's letter to her daughter, and Lady Anna herself wrote
a reply. She perfectly understood the purport of Mr. Goffe's letter,
and would thank Mr. Goffe to call upon her on the 10th of May, when
the matter might, she hoped, be settled.