STUBBS UPON MATRIMONY.
Before that evening was over,--or in the course of the night,
it might be better said, as the two men sat up late with their
pipes,--Hamel told his friend the Colonel exactly what had taken
place that morning over at Glenbogie. "You went for the purpose, of
course?" asked the Colonel.
"For an off chance?"
"I know that well enough. I never heard of a man's walking twelve
miles to call upon a young lady merely because he knew her father;
and when there was to be a second call within a few weeks, the first
having not been taken in very good part by the young lady's friends,
my inquiring mind told me that there was something more than old
family friendship."
"Your inquiring mind saw into the truth."
"And now looks forward to further events. Can she bake and can she
brew?"
"I do not doubt that she could if she tried."
"And can she wash a shirt for a man? Don't suppose, my dear fellow,
that I intend to say that your wife will have to wash yours. Washing
a shirt, as read in the poem from which I am quoting, is presumed to
be simply emblematic of household duties in general."
"I take all you say in good part,--as coming from a friend."
"I regard matrimony," said the Colonel, "as being altogether the
happiest state of life for a man,--unless to be engaged to some
lovely creature, in whom one can have perfect confidence, may be a
thought happier. One can enjoy all the ecstatic mental reflection,
all the delights of conceit which come from being loved, that feeling
of superiority to all the world around which illumines the bosom
of the favoured lover, without having to put one's hand into one's
pocket, or having one's pipe put out either morally or physically.
The next to this is matrimony itself, which is the only remedy for
that consciousness of disreputable debauchery, a savour of which
always clings, more or less strongly, to unmarried men in our rank
of life. The chimes must be heard at midnight, let a young man be
ever so well given to the proprieties, and he must have just a touch
of the swingebuckler about him, or he will seem to himself to be
deficient in virility. There is no getting out of it until a man
marry. But then--"
"Well; then?"
"Do you know the man whose long-preserved hat is always brushed
carefully, whose coat is the pattern of neatness, but still a little
threadbare when you look at it,--in the colour of whose cheek there
is still some touch of juvenility, but whose step is ever heavy and
whose brow is always sad? The seriousness of life has pressed the
smiles out of him. He has learned hardly to want anything for himself
but outward decency and the common necessaries of life. Such little
personal indulgences as are common to you and to me are as strange to
him as ortolans or diamonds."
"I do not think I do know him."
"I do;--well. I have seen him in the regiment, I have met him on
the steps of a public office, I have watched him as he entered his
parsonage house. You shall find him coming out of a lawyer's office,
where he has sat for the last nine hours, having supported nature
with two penny biscuits. He has always those few thin hairs over his
forehead, he has always that well-brushed hat, he has always that
load of care on his brow. He is generally thinking whether he shall
endeavour to extend his credit with the butcher, or resolve that the
supply of meat may be again curtailed without injury to the health of
his five daughters."
"That is an ugly picture."
"But is it true?"
"In some cases, of course, it is."
"And yet not ugly all round," said the meditative Colonel, who had
just replenished his pipe. "There are, on the other side, the five
daughters, and the partner of this load of cares. He knows it is well
to have the five daughters, rather than to live with plenty of beef
and mutton,--even with the ortolans if you will,--and with no one to
care whether his body may be racked in this world or his spirit in
the next. I do not say whether the balance of good or evil be on one
side or the other; but when a man is going to do a thing he should
know what it is he is going to do."
"The reading of all this," said Hamel, "is, that if I succeed in
marrying Miss Dormer I must have thin locks, and a bad hat, and a
butcher's bill."
"Other men do."
"Some, instead, have balances at their bankers, and die worth thirty,
forty, or fifty thousand pounds, to the great consolation of the five
daughters."
"Or a hundred thousand pounds! There is, of course, no end to
the amount of thousands which a successful professional man may
accumulate. You may be the man; but the question is, whether you
should not have reasonable ground to suppose yourself the man, before
you encumber yourself with the five daughters."
"It seems to me," said Hamel, "that the need of such assurance is
cowardly."
"That is just the question which I am always debating with myself. I
also want to rid myself of that swingebuckler flavour. I feel that
for me, like Adam, it is not good that I should be alone. I would
fain ask the first girl, that I could love well enough to wish
to make myself one with her, to be my wife, regardless of hats,
butchers, and daughters. It is a plucky and a fine thing for a man to
feel that he can make his back broad enough for all burdens. But yet
what is the good of thinking that you can carry a sack of wheat when
you are sure that you have not, in truth, strength to raise it from
the ground?"
"Strength will come," said Hamel.
"Yes, and the bad hat. And, worse than the bad hat, the soiled gown;
and perhaps with the soiled gown the altered heart;--and perhaps with
the altered heart an absence of all that tenderness which it is a
woman's special right to expect from a man."
"I should have thought you would have been the last to be so
self-diffident."
"To be so thoughtful, you mean," said the Colonel. "I am unattached
now, and having had no special duty for the last three months I have
given myself over to thinking in a nasty morbid manner. It comes,
I daresay, partly from tobacco. But there is comfort in this,--that
no such reflections falling out of one man's mouth ever had the
slightest effect in influencing another man's conduct."
Hamel had told his friend with great triumph of his engagement
with Lucy Dormer, but the friend did not return the confidence by
informing the sculptor that during the whole of this conversation,
and for many days previous to it, his mind had been concerned with
the image of Lucy's sister. He was aware that Ayala had been, as it
were, turned out from her rich uncle's house, and given over to the
comparative poverty of Kingsbury Crescent. He himself, at the present
moment, was possessed of what might be considered a comfortable
income for a bachelor. He had been accustomed to live almost more
than comfortably; but, having so lived, was aware of himself that
he had not adapted himself for straitened circumstances. In spite
of that advice of his as to the brewing, baking, and washing
capabilities of a female candidate for marriage, he knew himself well
enough to be aware that a wife red with a face from a kitchen fire
would be distasteful to him. He had often told himself that to look
for a woman with money would be still more distasteful. Therefore he
had thought that for the present, at least, it would be well for him
to remain as he was. But now he had come across Ayala, and though in
the pursuance of his philosophy he had assured himself that Ayala
should be nothing to him, still he found himself so often reverting
to this resolution that Ayala, instead of being nothing, was very
much indeed to him.
Three days after this Hamel was preparing himself for his departure
immediately after breakfast. "What a beast you are to go," said the
Colonel, "when there can be no possible reason for your going."
"The five daughters and the bad hat make it necessary that a fellow
should do a little work sometimes."
"Why can't you make your images down here?"
"With you for a model, and mud out of the Caller for clay."
"I shouldn't have the slightest objection. In your art you cannot
perpetuate the atrocity of my colour, as the fellow did who painted
my portrait last winter. If you will go, go, and make busts at
unheard-of prices, so that the five daughters may live for ever on
the fat of the land. Can I do any good for you by going over to
Glenbogie?"
"If you could snub that Mr. Traffick, who is of all men the most
atrocious."
"The power doesn't exist," said the Colonel, "which could snub the
Honourable Septimus. That man is possessed of a strength which I
thoroughly envy,--which is perhaps more enviable than any other gift
the gods can give. Words cannot penetrate that skin of his. Satire
flows off him like water from a duck. Ridicule does not touch him.
The fellest abuse does not succeed in inflicting the slightest wound.
He has learnt the great secret that a man cannot be cut who will not
be cut. As it is worth no man's while to protract an enmity with
such a one as he, he suffers from no prolonged enmities. He walks
unassailable by any darts, and is, I should say, the happiest man in
London."
"Then I fear you can do nothing for me at Glenbogie. To mollify Aunt
Emmeline would, I fear, be beyond your power. Sir Thomas, as far as I
can see, does not require much mollifying."
"Sir Thomas might give the young woman a thousand or two."
"That is not the way in which I desire to keep a good hat on my
head," said Hamel, as he seated himself in the little carriage which
was to take him down to Callerfoot.
The Colonel remained at Drumcaller till the end of September, when
his presence was required at Aldershot,--during which time he shot
a good deal, in obedience to the good-natured behests of Lord
Glentower, and in spite of the up-turned nose of Mr. Traffick. He
read much, and smoked much,--so that as to the passing of his time
there was not need to pity him, and he consumed a portion of his
spare hours in a correspondence with his aunt, the Marchesa, and with
his cousin Nina. One of his letters from each shall be given,--and
also one of the letters written to each in reply.
NINA TO HER COUSIN THE COLONEL.
MY DEAR JONATHAN,
Lady Albury says that you ought to be here, and so you
ought. It is ever so nice. There is a Mr. Ponsonby here,
and he and I can beat any other couple at lawn tennis.
There is an awning over the ground, which is such a
lounge. Playing lawn tennis with a parasol as those
Melcombe girls did is stupid. They were here, but have
gone. One I am quite sure was over head and ears in love
with Mr. Ponsonby. These sort of things are always all
on one side, you know. He isn't very much of a man, but
he does play lawn tennis divinely. Take it altogether, I
don't think there is anything out to beat lawn tennis. I
don't know about hunting,--and I don't suppose I ever
shall.
We tried to have Ayala here, but I fear it will not come
off. Lady Albury was good-natured, but at last she did not
quite like writing to Mrs. Dosett. So mamma wrote, but the
lady's answer was very stiff. She thought it better for
Ayala to remain among her own friends. Poor Ayala! It is
clear that a knight will be wanted to go in armour, and
get her out of prison. I will leave it to you to say who
must be the knight.
I hope you will come for a day or two before you go to
Aldershot. We stay till the 1st of October. You will be a
beast if you don't. Lady Albury says she never means to
ask you again. "Oh, Stubbs!" said Sir Harry; "Stubbs is
one of those fellows who never come if they're asked." Of
course we all sat upon him. Then he declared that you were
the dearest friend he had in the world, but that he never
dared to dream that you would ever come to Stalham again.
Perhaps if we can hit it off at last with Ayala, then you
would come. Mamma means to try again.--Your affectionate
cousin,
NINA.
THE MARCHESA BALDONI TO HER NEPHEW, COLONEL STUBBS.
MY DEAR JONATHAN,
I did my best for my protégé, but I am afraid it will not
succeed. Her aunt Mrs. Dosett seems to think that, as
Ayala is fated to live with her, Ayala had better take
her fate as she finds it. The meaning of that is, that if
a girl is doomed to have a dull life she had better not
begin it with a little pleasure. There is a good deal to
be said for the argument, but if I were the girl I should
like to begin with the pleasure and take my chance for
the reaction. I should perhaps be vain enough to think
that during the preliminary course I might solve all the
difficulty by my beaux yeux. I saw Mrs. Dosett once, and
now I have had a letter from her. Upon the whole, I am
inclined to pity poor Ayala.
We are very happy here. The Marchese has gone to Como
to look after some property he has there. Do not be
ill-natured enough to say that the two things go
together;--but in truth he is never comfortable out of
Italy. He had a slice of red meat put before him the other
day, and that decided him to start at once.
On the first of October we go back to London, and shall
remain till the end of November. They have asked Nina to
come again in November in order that she may see a hunt. I
know that means that she will try to jump over something,
and have her leg broken. You must be here and not allow
it. If she does come here I shall perhaps go down to
Brighton for a fortnight.
Yes;--I do think Ayala Dormer is a very pretty girl, and I
do think, also, that she is clever. I quite agree that she
is ladylike. But I do not therefore think that she is just
such a girl as such a man as Colonel Jonathan Stubbs ought
to marry. She is one of those human beings who seem to
have been removed out of this world and brought up in
another. Though she knows ever so much that nobody else
knows, she is ignorant of ever so much that everybody
ought to know. Wandering through a grove, or seated by a
brook, or shivering with you on the top of a mountain, she
would be charming. I doubt whether she would be equally
good at the top of your table, or looking after your
children, or keeping the week's accounts. She would tease
you with poetry, and not even pretend to be instructed
when you told her how an army ought to be moved. I say
nothing as to the fact that she hasn't got a penny, though
you are just in that position which makes it necessary
for a man to get some money with his wife. I therefore am
altogether indisposed to any matrimonial outlook in that
direction.--Your affectionate aunt,
BEATRICE BALDONI.
COLONEL STUBBS TO HIS COUSIN NINA.
DEAR NINA,
Lady Albury is wrong; I ought not to be at Stalham. What
should I do at Stalham at this time of year, who never
shoot partridges, and what would be the use of attempting
lawn tennis when I know I should be cut out by Mr.
Ponsonby? If that day in November is to come off then I'll
come and coach you across the country. You tell Sir Harry
that I say so, and that I will bring three horses for one
week. I think it very hard about poor Ayala Dormer, but
what can any knight do in such a case? When a young lady
is handed over to the custody of an uncle or an aunt,
she becomes that uncle's and aunt's individual property.
Mrs. Dosett may be the most noxious dragon that ever was
created for the mortification and general misery of an
imprisoned damsel, but still she is omnipotent. The only
knight who can be of any service is one who will go with a
ring in his hand, and absolutely carry the prisoner away
by force of the marriage service. Your unfortunate cousin
is so exclusively devoted to the duty of fighting his
country's battles that he has not even time to think of a
step so momentous as that.
Poor Ayala! Do not be stupid enough to accuse me of
pitying her because I cannot be the knight to release her;
but I cannot but think how happy she would be at Stalham,
struggling to beat you and Mr. Ponsonby at lawn tennis,
and then risking a cropper when the happy days of November
should come round.--Your loving cousin,
J. S.
COLONEL STUBBS TO THE MARCHESA BALDONI.
MY DEAR AUNT,
Your letter is worthy of the Queen of Sheba, if, as was no
doubt the case, she corresponded with King Solomon. As for
Ayala's fate, if it be her fate to live with Mrs. Dosett,
she can only submit to it. You cannot carry her over to
Italy, nor would the Marchese allow her to divide his
Italian good things with Nina. Poor little bird! She had
her chance of living amidst diamonds and bank-notes, with
the Tringle millionaires, but threw it away after some
fashion that I do not understand. No doubt she was a fool,
but I cannot but like her the better for it. I hardly
think that a fortnight at Stalham, with all Sir Harry's
luxuries around her, would do her much service.
As for myself and the top of my table, and the future
companion who is to be doomed to listen to my military
lucubrations, I am altogether inclined to agree with you,
seeing that you write in a pure spirit of worldly good
sense. No doubt the Queen of Sheba gave advice of the
same sort to King Solomon. I never knew a woman to speak
confidentially of matrimony otherwise than as a matter of
pounds, shillings, and pence. In counsels so given, no
word of love has ever been known to creep in. Why should
it, seeing that love cannot put a leg of mutton into the
pot? Don't imagine that I say this in a spirit either of
censure or satire. Your ideas are my own, and should I
ever marry I shall do so in strict accordance with your
tenets, thinking altogether of the weekly accounts, and
determined to eschew any sitting by the sides of brooks.
I have told Nina about my plans. I will be at Stalham in
November to see that she does not break her neck.--Yours
always,
J. S.