CHAPTER XXV.

AN INVITATION.

Very shortly after the fatal discovery made by the professor, Lord

Davenant received the outside recognition, so to speak, of his rank. It

is true that no one within a mile of Stepney Green--that is, anywhere

between Aldgate Pump and Bow Church--would have had the hardihood to

express a doubt on the validity of a claim which conferred a lustre upon

the neighborhood; yet even Lord Davenant, not remarkable for quickness

of perception, was sharp enough to know that recognition at Stepney is

not altogether the same thing as recognition at Westminster. He was now

once more tolerably comfortable in his mind. The agonies of composition

were over, thanks to his young friend's assistance; the labor of

transcription was finished; he felt, in looking at the bundle of papers,

all the dignity of successful authorship; the case, in fact, was now

complete and ready for presentation to the Queen, or to any one, Lord

Chancellor, Prime Minister, Lord Chamberlain, or American Minister, who

would undertake and faithfully promise to lay it before Her Majesty. For

his own part, brought up in the belief that the British Lion habitually

puts his heroic tail between his legs when the name of America is

mentioned, he thought that the Minister of the States was the proper

person to present his case. Further, the days of fatness were come

again. Clara Martha, in some secret way only known to herself, was again

in command of money; once more bacon and tea, and bread and butter, if

not coffee, cream, and buckwheat cakes, with maple syrup and hot

compone--delicacies of his native land--were spread upon the board at

eight in the morning; and again the succulent steak of Stepney, yielding

to none, not even to him of Fleet Street, appeared at stroke of one; and

the noble lord could put up his feet and rest the long and peaceful

morning through, unreproached by his consort. Therefore he felt no

desire for any change, but would have been quite content to go on for

ever enjoying his title among this simple folk, and careless about the

splendors of his rank. How Clara Martha got the money he did not

inquire. We, who know, may express our fears that here was another

glaring violation of political economy, and that the weekly honorarium

received every Saturday by Lady Davenant was by no means adequately

accounted for by her weekly work. Still her style was very fine, and

there were no more delicate workers in the association than the little

peeress with the narrow shoulders and the bright eyes.

Not one word, mark you, spoken of Saturday Davenant--that "Roag in

Grane" and the professor as respectful as if his lordship had sat

through thirty years of deliberation in the Upper House, and Mr. Goslett

humbly deferential to her ladyship, and in secret confidential and

familiar, even rollicking, with my lord, and Miss Kennedy respectfully

thoughtful for their welfare.

This serenity was troubled and dissipated by the arrival of a letter

addressed to Lady Davenant.

She received it--a simple letter on ordinary notepaper--with surprise,

and opened it with some suspicion. Her experience of letters was not of

late happy, inasmuch as her recent correspondence had been chiefly with

American friends, who reminded her how they had all along told her that

it was no good expecting that the Davenant claim would be listened to,

and now she saw for herself, and had better come home again and live

among the plain folk of Canaan, and praise the Lord for making her

husband an American citizen; with much more to the same effect, and

cruel words from nephew Nathaniel, who had no ambition, and would have

sold his heirship to the coronet for a few dollars.

She looked first at the signature, and turned pale, for it was from the

mysterious young lady, almost divine in the eyes of Stepney, because she

was so rich, Miss Messenger.

"Lord!" cried Mrs. Bormalack. "Do read it quick."

Her ladyship read it through very slowly, much too slowly for her

landlady's impatience.

Her pale cheeks flushed with pride and joy when she comprehended what

the letter meant; she drew herself up straight, and her shoulders became

so sloping that the uneasy feeling about her clothes, already alluded

to, once more passed through Mrs. Bormalack's sympathetic mind.

"It will be a change, indeed, for us," she murmured, looking at her

husband.

"Change?" cried the landlady.

"What change?" asked his lordship. "Clara Martha, I do not want any

change; I am comfortable here. I am treated with respect, the place is

quiet; I do not want to change."

He was a heavy man and lethargic--change meant some kind of physical

activity--he disliked movement.

His wife tossed her head with impatience.

"Oh," she cried, "he would rather sit in his armchair than walk even

across the green to get his coronet. Shame upon him! Oh! Carpenter!

Shh!"

His lordship quailed and said no more. That allusion to his father's

trade was not intended as a sneer; the slothfulness of his parent it was

which the lady hurled at his lordship's head. No one could tell, no

living writer is able to depict faithfully, the difficulties encountered

and overcome by this resolute woman in urging her husband to action; how

she had first to persuade him to declare that he was the heir to the

extinct title; how she had next to drag him away from Canaan City; how

she had to bear with his moanings, lamentations, and terrors, when he

found himself actually on board the steamer, and saw the land slowly

disappearing, while the great ship rolled beneath his unaccustomed feet,

and consequences which he had not foreseen began to follow. These were

things of the past, but it had been hard to get him away even from

Wellclose Square, which he found comfortable, making allowance for the

disrespectful Dane; and now--but it must and should be done.

"His lordship," said the little woman, thinking she had perhaps said too

much, "is one of them who take root wherever you set them down. He takes

after his grandfather, the Honorable Timothy Clitheroe. Set himself down

in Canaan City, and took root at once, never wanted to go away. And the

Davenants, I am told, never left the village from the day they built

their castle there till the last lord died there. In other people, Mrs.

Bormalack, it might be called sloth, but in his lordship's case we can

only say that he is quick to take root. That is all, ma'am. And when we

move him, it is like tearing him up by the roots."

"It is," said his lordship, clinging to the arms of the chair; "it is."

The letter was as follows, and Lady Davenant read it aloud:

"DEAR LADY DAVENANT: I have quite recently learned that you and

Lord Davenant are staying at a house on Stepney Green which happens

to be my property. Otherwise, perhaps, I might have remained in

ignorance of this most interesting circumstance. I have also

learned that you have crossed the Atlantic for the purpose of

presenting a claim to the Davenant title, which was long supposed

to be extinct, and I hasten to convey to you my most sincere wishes

for your success.

"I am at this moment precluded from doing myself the pleasure of

calling upon you, for reasons with which I will not trouble you. I

hope, however, to be allowed to do so before very long. Meantime, I

take the liberty of offering you the hospitality of my own house in

Portman Square, if you will honor me by accepting it, as your place

of residence during your stay in London. You will perhaps find

Portman Square a central place, and more convenient for you than

Stepney Green, which, though it possesses undoubted advantages in

healthful air and freedom from London fog, is yet not altogether a

desirable place of residence for a lady of your rank.

"I am aware that in addressing you without the ceremony of an

introduction, I am taking what may seem to you a liberty. I may be

pardoned on the ground that I feel so deep an interest in your

romantic story, and so much sympathy with your courage in crossing

the ocean to prosecute your claim. Such claims as these are, you

know, jealously regarded and sifted with the greatest care, so that

there may be difficulty in establishing a perfectly made-out case,

and one which shall satisfy the House of Lords as impregnable to

any attack. There is, however, such a thing as a moral certainty,

and I am well assured that Lord Davenant would not have left his

native country had he not been convinced in his own mind that his

cause is a just one, and that his claim is a duty owed to his

illustrious ancestors. So that, whether he wins or loses, whether

he succeeds or fails, he must in either case command our respect

and our sympathy. Under these circumstances I trust that I may be

forgiven, and that your ladyship will honor my poor house with your

presence. I will send, always provided that you accept, my carriage

for you on any day that you may appoint. Your reply may be directed

here, because all letters are forwarded to me, though I am not, at

the present moment, residing at my own town-house.

"Believe me to remain, dear Lady Davenant, yours very faithfully,

"ANGELA MARSDEN MESSENGER."

"It is a beautiful letter!" cried Mrs. Bormalack, "and to think of Miss

Messenger knowing that this house is one of hers! Why, she's got

hundreds. Now, I wonder who could have told her that you were here?"

"No doubt," said her ladyship, "she saw it in the papers."

"What a providence that you came here! If you had stayed at Wellclose

Square, which is a low place and only fit for foreigners, she never

would have heard about you. Well, it will be a sad blow losing your

ladyship, but of course you must go. You can't refuse such a noble

offer; and though I've done my best, I'm sure, to make his lordship

comfortable, yet I know that the dinner hasn't always been such as I

could wish, though as good as the money would run to. And we can't hope

to rival Miss Messenger, of course, in housekeeping, though I should

like to hear what she gives for dinner."

"You shall, Mrs. Bormalack," said her ladyship; "I will send you word

myself, and I am sure we are very grateful to you for all your kindness,

and especially at times when my husband's nephew, Nathaniel, who is not

the whole-souled and high-toned man that the heir to a peerage ought to

be----"

"Don't speak of it," interrupted the good landlady, "don't speak of it,

your ladyship. It will always be my pride to remember that your ladyship

thought I did my little best. But, then, with mutton at eleven-pence

ha'penny!"

The name of Portman Square suggested nothing at all to the illustrious

pair. It might just as well have been Wellclose Square. But here was an

outside recognition of them; and from a very rich young lady, who

perhaps was herself acquainted with some of the members of the Upper

House.

"It is a proper letter," said Lady Davenant critically; "a letter

written in a becoming spirit. There's many things to admire in England,

but the best thing is the respect to rank. Now, in our own city did they

respect his lordship for his family? Not a mite. The boys drew pictures

of him on the walls with a crown on his head and a sword in his hand."

"Must we go, Clara Martha?" his lordship asked in a tremulous voice.

"Yes, we must go; we must show people that we are ready to assume the

dignity of the position. As for my husband, Mrs. Bormalack"--she looked

at him sideways while she addressed the landlady--"there are times when

I feel that nothing but noble blood confers real dignity"--his lordship

coughed--"real dignity and a determination to have your rights, and

behavior according."

Lord Davenant straightened his back and held up his head. But when his

wife left him he drooped it again and looked sad.

Lady Davenant took the letter with her to show Miss Kennedy.

"I shall never forget old friends, my dear," she said kindly, when

Angela had read it through, "never; and your kindness in my distress I

could not forget if I tried." The tears stood in her eyes as she spoke.

"We are standing now on the very threshold of Greatness; this is the

first step to Recognition; a short time more and my husband will be in

his right place among the British peers. As for myself, I don't seem to

mind any, Miss Kennedy. It's for him that I mind. Once in his own place,

he will show the world what he is capable of. You only think of him as

a sleepy old man, who likes to put up his feet and shut his eyes. So he

is--so he is. But wait till he gets his own. Then you will see. As for

eloquence, now, I remember one Fourth of July--but of course we were

Americans then."

"Indeed, Lady Davenant, we shall all be rejoiced if you succeed. But do

not forget Miss Messenger's warning. There is a moral success, and there

is a legal success. You may have to be contented with the former. But

that should be enough for you, and you would then return to your own

people with triumph."

"Aurelia Tucker," said her ladyship, smiling gently, "will wish she

hadn't taken up the prophesyin' line. I shall forgive her, though envy

is indeed a hateful passion. However, we cannot all have illustrious

ancestors, though, since our own elevation, there's not a man, woman, or

child in Canaan City, except the Dutchman, who hasn't connected himself

with an English family, and the demand for Red Books and books of the

county families is more than you could believe, and they do say that

many a British peer will have to tremble for his title."

"Come," said Angela, interrupting these interesting facts, "come, Lady

Davenant. I knew beforehand of this letter, and Miss Messenger has given

me work in anticipation of your visit."

She led the little lady to the showroom, and here, laid on chairs, were

marvels. For there were dresses in silk and in velvet: dresses of best

silk, moire antique, brocaded silk, silk that would stand upright of

itself, without the aid of a chair-back, and velvet of the richest, the

blackest, and the most costly. There could be no doubt whatever as to

the person for whom these dresses had been designed, because nobody else

had such narrow and such sloping shoulders. Never in her dreams had her

ladyship thought it possible that she should wear such dresses.

"They are a present from Miss Messenger," said Miss Kennedy. "Now, if

you please, we will go into the trying-on room."

Then Lady Davenant discovered that these dresses were trimmed with lace,

also of the most beautiful and delicate kind. She had sometimes seen

lace during her professional career, but she never possessed any, and

the sight of it created a kind of yearning in her heart to have it on,

actually on her sleeves and round her neck.

When she dressed in her velvet with the lace trimming, she looked a very

stately little lady. When Angela had hung about her neck a heavy gold

chain with a watch and seals; when she had deftly added a touch to her

still luxuriant hair, and set in it a small aigrette of brilliants; when

she had put on her a pair of gloves and given her a large and

beautifully painted fan, there was no nobler-looking lady in the land,

for all she was so little.

Then Angela courtesied low and begged her ladyship to examine the dress

in the glass. Her ladyship surveyed herself with an astonishment and

delight impossible to be repressed, although they detracted somewhat

from the dignity due to the dress.

"O Aurelia!" she exclaimed, as if in the joy of her heart she could have

wished her friend to share her happiness.

Then Miss Kennedy explained to her that the velvet and magnificent silk

dresses were for the evening only, while for the morning there were

other black silk dresses, with beautiful fur cloaks and things for

carriage exercise, and all kinds of things provided, so that she might

make a becoming appearance in Portman Square.

"As for his lordship," Miss Kennedy went on, "steps have been taken to

provide him also with garments due to his position. And I think, Lady

Davenant, if I may venture to advise----"

"My dear," said her ladyship, simply, "just tell me, right away, what am

I to do."

"Then you are to write to Miss Messenger and tell her that you will be

ready to-morrow morning, and say any kind of thing that occurs to your

kind heart. And then you will have undisturbed possession of the big

house in Portman Square, with all its servants, butler, coachman,

footmen, and the rest of them at your orders. And I beg--that is, I

hope--that you will make use of them. Remember that a nobleman's servant

expects to be ordered, not asked. Drive every day; go to the theatres

to amuse yourself--I am sure, after all this time, you want amusement."

"We had lectures at Canaan City," said her ladyship. "Shall we go to

lectures?"

"N--no. I think there are none. But you should go to concerts, if you

like them, and to picture galleries. Be seen about a good deal; make

people talk about you, and do not press your case before you have been

talked about."

"Do you think I can persuade Timothy--I mean, his lordship--to go about

with me?"

"You will have the carriage, you know; and if he likes he can sleep at

the theatre; you have only to take a private box--but be seen and talked

about."

This seemed very good advice. Lady Davenant laid it to her heart. Then

she took off her magnificent velvet and put on the humble stuff again,

with a sigh. Happily, it was the last day she would wear it.

On returning to the boarding-house, she found her husband in great

agitation, for he too had been "trying on," and he had been told

peremptorily that the whole of the existing wardrobe must be abolished,

and changed for a new one which had been provided for him. The good old

coat, whose sleeves were so shiny, whose skirts so curly, whose cuffs so

worn, must be abandoned; the other things, which long custom had adapted

to every projection of his figure, must go too; and, in place of them,

the new things which he had just been trying on.

"There's a swallow-tail, Clara Martha, for evening wear. I shall have to

change my clothes, they tell me, every evening; and frock-coats to

button down the front like a congressman in a statue; and--O Clara

Martha, we are going to have a terrible time!"

"Courage, my lord," she said. "The end will reward us. Only hold up your

head, and remember that you are enjoying the title."

The evening was rather sad, though the grief of the noble pair at

leaving their friends was shared by none but their landlady, who really

was attached to the little bird-like woman, so resolute and full of

courage. As for the rest, they behaved as members of a happy family are

expected to behave--that is to say, they paid no heed whatever to the

approaching departure of two out of their number, and Josephus leaned

his head against the wall, and Daniel Fagg plunged his hands into his

hair, and old Mr. Maliphant sat in the corner with his pipe in his mouth

and narrated bits of stories to himself, and laughed.

All Sorts and Conditions of Men: An Impossible Story · 第 25 / 49 章