On the following morning the news of Dr Greendale’s sudden death
reached the neighbouring village of Neverden. Mr Darnley was deeply
concerned at the intelligence, and prepared to pay an immediate visit
to the afflicted widow to offer such consolation and assistance as
circumstances might require. On his way from home he went through
Neverden park, and called at the hall to acquaint his patron baronet
of the dismal intelligence just received. Sir George met Mr Darnley
at the door of the house, and thus the rector was saved the trouble
of alighting. Another trouble was also saved him, namely, that of
communicating the news to the baronet: for as soon as the worshipful
magistrate saw Mr Darnley, he bawled out at the top of his voice:
“Good morning, Darnley, good morning. Bad news from Smatterton; poor
Greendale’s dead. What will become of the poor widow and his pretty
niece? Very sudden indeed. I always thought he would go off so. Will
you alight? I suppose you are going over to Smatterton. Do you know who
is to have the living? It is a pretty good thing, I believe.”
This was a mode of address not at all in unison with the feelings of
Mr Darnley, though quite in keeping with the character and habits of
Sir George Aimwell. Not that Sir George was by any means destitute of
feeling. It is very likely he might have been as much concerned at the
loss, as others who might express themselves more pathetically; but, as
the proverbial expression has it, it was his way. This expression is
an apology for anything, and for everything, and more especially for
all breaches of decorum and violations of propriety. It is quite enough
to say, “he means no harm, it is his way.” It was a way however which
Mr Darnley did not approve and dared not rebuke; for he had so high a
respect for rank, as one of the glorious blessings of our constitution,
that he could never violate its sacredness by making it the subject of
reproof, otherwise than by indirect and general hints. Mr Darnley was
a strict, but not a sturdy moralist. To the questions of Sir George he
returned such answers as he was able to give, and, bowing politely, was
about to continue his ride, when the baronet called out to him again:
“Well, but I am sorry for the doctor, poor fellow. I was going to
send him some game this morning, though we had but a bad day’s sport
yesterday. I shall send you a brace or two of birds, Darnley.”
Mr Darnley made his acknowledgments for the baronet’s liberality, and
pursued his journey, meditating on the various subjects and thoughts
which such events as these usually excite in such minds as his. When
he arrived at Smatterton, at the very entrance of the village he saw
symptoms of a general calamity. The old men were standing in little
groups, and looking serious, and talking with great earnestness on
the subject of their loss: and when they saw Mr Darnley ride past
they drew aside and made more serious reverence than usual; and,
while they uncovered their silvery heads and bowed to the clergyman,
there was in their looks an expression which seemed to ask for some
more acknowledgment of their homage than the return bend of the head;
they seemed to implore him to address them. And, as he was a man of
discernment and observation, he stopt his horse and spoke to an old,
a very old man, who was leaning on a stick which trembled under his
pressure, and said:
“So, my good friend, I am concerned to hear that you have lost your
worthy rector.”
“Yes, sir, it is God’s will. I am sure I did not think that I should
live to see that day. Please your reverence, it was but yesterday
morning that I was speaking to my children about putting me into the
ground; and I told them that I should die contented if I thought that
they would continue to attend to the good doctor’s instructions. And I
thought that I should have that good man to read at my grave. Ah! sir,
these are mysteries in providence; here am I spared year after year
merely to cumber the ground, while our dear rector is cut off in the
midst of his days and usefulness.”
“You are rather advanced in years, I believe; I have not seen you for
some time. Have you been unwell?”
“Yes, sir, I am nearly ninety, and at my time of life I cannot expect
anything else than illness and infirmity. I have not been out of my
doors for many months, but I could not help hobbling out a little way
just to hear some particulars about our worthy rector. Alack, sir, I
had need give him a good word. He was my best friend, so kind----”
The old man wept audibly; and Mr Darnley, who had been affected by the
very aspect of the village as he entered it, felt himself unable to
make any reply, and rode on. When he reached the rectory, and enquired
for Mrs Greendale, the domestic announced that her mistress was too
ill to be seen, but that Miss Primrose would make her appearance
immediately. Happy was it for Penelope that there was on the present
occasion a division of interests and an opposing set of feelings. Her
troubles had come thickly upon her; but the very meeting together of
these sorrows tended to soften them, or, what was equivalent to that,
to excite and compel her to an unusual exertion of moral fortitude; and
the very circumstance of Mrs Greendale’s acute and severe feeling was
also the means of exciting and rousing Penelope.
When therefore she met Mr Darnley, it was with great composure
and steadiness of countenance, and she was able to narrate, with
consistency and intelligibility, the particulars of her uncle’s
decease. She mentioned the visit of Lord Spoonbill, and spoke very
highly of the great propriety of his behaviour and the manifestation
which he gave of good feeling. Mr Darnley was pleased to hear so good
an account, and hoped that so solemn and impressive a scene might be
instrumental in producing some good effect on the young lord’s conduct.
As Penelope was always regarded by the family at Neverden as possessing
a steadiness of judgment beyond her years, Mr Darnley, after the
ordinary talk on such occasions, ventured to extend his inquiries as to
the probable disposition of the widow and Penelope after they should
leave the rectory, which must of course be resigned to the doctor’s
successor.
The young lady professed herself quite at a loss to know what
arrangements might be contemplated by Mrs Greendale; but as to herself
she expressed her determination to take, as soon as possible, a
situation as governess in a private family, and said that she was sure
that the Countess of Smatterton would give every assistance in her
power.
Mr Darnley expressed himself somewhat astonished at this decision,
under what he called present circumstances. Now here it may be proper
and necessary to explain. We have narrated, or at least very strongly
intimated, that there subsisted between the niece of the late Dr
Greendale and the only son of Mr Darnley an engagement, sanctioned
by the parents of the latter. We have also said, that Lord Spoonbill
had cast the eyes of affection on Penelope Primrose, and that in
order to wean her affections from him to whom she was engaged, he had
intercepted more than once letters sent from Mr Robert Darnley to her.
We have stated also, that the apparent cessation of the correspondence
on the part of the young gentleman had disturbed and distressed the
mind of Penelope. Her spirit, however, was above naming or hinting
the matter to the parents of her absent friend. We have also informed
our readers that, only on the very day of Dr Greendale’s decease, a
letter had been intercepted and destroyed by Lord Spoonbill, and that
a letter had reached the rectory of Neverden from the young gentleman.
In this letter Mr Robert Darnley had apprised his parents and sisters
that they might expect him in England in about six weeks after the
arrival of that communication: he had also informed them that he had
written to Penelope by the same conveyance, informing her of the same
fact. He had also, in one part of that letter which he had sent to
Neverden, addressed a line or two to his sister Ann, requesting her to
observe if there were in Penelope Primrose any symptoms of alienated
affection, or any manifest partiality to any other person. This last
enquiry was thought merely the effect of that fanciful jealousy which
is, in some peculiarly-constructed minds, the effect and concomitant of
love: and the general impression at the rectory of Neverden was, that
Robert Darnley would be in England in six weeks, and that, as soon as
conveniently it could be arranged after his return, he would be married
to Penelope. It was therefore with no small share of astonishment that
Mr Darnley heard the young lady make such a declaration as that above
recorded.
“But, my young friend, why have recourse to such a step as that?
It would be much better that you should take up your abode with us
at Neverden. Indeed, I must almost insist upon it, if you will not
otherwise be induced to comply. Under any other circumstances I should
not perhaps recommend such a step, but now that you are so situated
that you must soon leave Smatterton, I think you cannot with propriety
do otherwise.”
To this language of Mr Darnley Penelope only replied with great
composure, indeed almost with apathy: “I must beg, sir, that you will
not press that subject. You will, no doubt, be ultimately convinced
that I am acting more properly in submitting myself to the direction
and advice of Lady Smatterton.”
At this speech of the young lady there came into the mind of Mr
Darnley a suspicion that the jealousy expressed in his son’s letter
was not altogether unfounded. Not that he could have supposed that
Penelope Primrose should deliberately prefer a lover like Lord
Spoonbill to a young man of sense and good conduct like Mr Robert
Darnley; but he was well aware of the fascinations of rank and the
allurements of fashionable splendour, and he also knew that it was
very possible for worthless and ignorant men, by means of the mockery
and mummery of conventional politeness, to render themselves not only
not disagreeable, but absolutely engaging and interesting to the young
and unpractised. He recollected the very handsome manner in which
Penelope had spoken of Lord Spoonbill, and he also bethought himself
of the unusual event of the heir of Smatterton honoring the party of
Mrs Greendale with his company. Then there came to his remembrance
that, during the whole, or nearly the whole evening, Penelope was
engaged at the pianoforte, and that she joined Lord Spoonbill in
several duets: and there was also a recollection that his lordship, as
soon as he entered the room at the rectory, took a seat on a sofa by
the side of Miss Primrose, and directed his conversation for awhile
almost exclusively to her. Mr Darnley, having compared all these
circumstances, began to wonder at himself that he should ever have been
so dull as not to observe that the affections of Penelope Primrose
belonged more to Lord Spoonbill than to Robert Darnley.
Having made this discovery, and having silently reproached himself
for his stupidity that he had not made it before, he did not hint the
least word of his suspicion to Miss Primrose; but simply abstained from
farther urging the matter about her residence at Neverden. Mr Darnley
was too proud a man to stoop to any expostulations or reproofs, or
to show anything like resentment upon the occasion. For he did not
consider that Penelope had inflicted an injury on his family, but had
merely declined a proffered honor.
He continued therefore his conversation upon other topics connected
with the doctor’s decease, and, leaving a message of sympathy for Mrs
Greendale, politely, rather more politely than usual, took his leave
of Penelope. She observed indeed a change in his manner, but ascribed
it to the unusually serious impression produced on his mind by the loss
of a friend and acquaintance.
From the rectory Mr Darnley proceeded to the castle, to make a call
of homage on the Earl of Smatterton. His lordship received the homage
graciously, and said, as was usual with him on all such occasions, “Mr
Darnley, I beg you will be seated.”
Mr Darnley accordingly took a seat, and Lord Smatterton accordingly
began to speak forth his own praises of his own most mighty
condescension and benevolence.
“You have been at the rectory this morning, Mr Darnley? It was very
proper and suitable that your’s should be the first visit to the house
of mourning. You found the poor woman well, I hope; that is, as well as
may be under present circumstances?”
Mr Darnley informed his lordship of the particulars of his visit to the
rectory, not forgetting to mention his own offer to give an asylum to
the doctor’s niece.
“Mr Darnley,” replied his lordship, “I very much approve of your
liberality. I can assure you that I shall take care that neither the
widow nor the niece shall be destitute. I have always entertained a
very high opinion of Dr Greendale. He was truly an excellent man. As
soon as I heard of his illness I sent for my own physician to attend
him, and had it not been so very late in the evening I should have gone
down to see him myself. And indeed, notwithstanding it was so late, I
certainly should have gone had I been aware of the danger in which he
was. However I did everything in my power, and I shall also have an
eye to the well-being of those who are by his death left destitute;
for I think I have understood that the doctor had no property of any
consideration independently of his living. But pray, Mr Darnley,
what think you of the propriety of giving to the world a volume or
two of the doctor’s sermons? They contain much good sense and sound
doctrine. They are not indeed so sublime as Irving’s, or so beautiful
as Alison’s, nor was it necessary that they should be; for the common
people cannot understand the sublime and beautiful. What think you, I
say, Mr Darnley, of the propriety and eligibility of publishing some of
Dr Greendale’s sermons?”
“With all due deference to your lordship’s superior judgment in such
matters, I am humbly of opinion,” replied Mr Darnley, “that good
sense and sound doctrine are no great recommendation of sermons, at
least they do not ensure popularity so effectually as sublimity and
beauty. But I believe, my lord, that Dr Greendale was engaged on a
very important controversial work. Now I have heard that controversial
theology has a much better sale than practical divinity, and that
sermons hardly ever go off, unless there be some peculiar interest
attached to the person who wrote them, or to the circumstances under
which they were preached. If, therefore, your lordship is disposed to
assist in the publication of any of the late doctor’s writings, I
should humbly apprehend that his great controversial treatise would be
most profitable to his widow, and bring more fame to his memory.”
“That may be very true, Mr Darnley, but I do not like controversy;
it unsettles people’s minds. I never knew any good come of it. But
while there are sectarians there must, to be sure, be refutations of
their errors, and the best way to oppose sectarianism is by means of
argument; for I am a decided advocate for religious liberty, only
I do not like to have the minds of the common people disturbed and
unsettled. These matters, Mr Darnley, I shall leave to you as a friend
of the late doctor; and if you are disposed to publish any of his
writings, they cannot come out under better auspices. At all events I
shall subscribe for a certain number of copies.”
“Your lordship is very generous; and I hope you will not find in the
writings of the worthy rector anything that shall tend to unsettle the
minds of the people, but rather the reverse. For I understand that the
object of the treatise which I have mentioned to your lordship, is to
put an end to controversy. I recollect hearing my worthy friend say,
that he had answered and refuted every objection that had ever been
urged against the established church, and that there was not a single
sect which he had not opposed and confuted.”
“Well, well, if the work is of such a comprehensive nature, I think it
important that it should be published. It is a great pity, however,
that it did not make its appearance during the doctor’s life-time, it
might have procured him a bishopric; but really, Mr Darnley, I don’t
know how it is, but I have observed that ministers are not sufficiently
attentive to men of merit. They give away their preferment merely for
the purpose of parliamentary influence. Now, for my part, I never do
anything of the kind--I always patronize merit. I gave the living of
Smatterton to Dr Greendale, purely on account of his merit. I wish
that this consideration weighed more than it does with those whose
patronage is more extensive and important than mine.”
Mr Darnley had a better opinion of his majesty’s ministers than the
Earl of Smatterton had expressed, and therefore he did not very readily
echo the last speech which his lordship made. He took however especial
care not to say anything that might impeach his lordship’s judgment
and sagacity. The peer and the clergyman parted on very good terms.
The first was delighted that he had enjoyed an opportunity of speaking
in laudatory terms of his own benevolence and wisdom; and the last
was very well satisfied that while he had paid due reverence to rank,
he had not compromised his loyalty to his majesty’s ministers, by
complimenting at their expense a member of his majesty’s opposition.