AUNT ROSINA.
During this period of heroism it had been necessary to Houston to
have some confidential friend to whom from time to time he could
speak of his purpose. He could not go on eating slices of boiled
mutton at eating-houses, and drinking dribblets of bad wine out
of little decanters no bigger than the bottles in a cruet stand,
without having some one to encourage him in his efforts. It was a
hard apprenticeship, and, coming as it did rather late in life for
such a beginning, and after much luxurious indulgence, required some
sympathy and consolation. There were Tom Shuttlecock and Lord John
Battledore at the club. Lord John was the man as to whose expulsion
because of his contumacious language so much had been said, but who
lived through that and various other dangers. These had been his
special friends, and to them he had confided everything in regard
to the Tringle marriage. Shuttlecock had ridiculed the very idea of
love, and had told him that everything else was to be thrown to the
dogs in pursuit of a good income. Battledore had reminded him that
there was "a deuced deal of cut-and-come-again in a hundred and
twenty thousand pounds." They had been friends, not always altogether
after his own heart, but friends who had served his purpose when he
was making his raid upon Lombard Street. But they were not men to
whom he could descant on the wholesomeness of cabbages as an article
of daily food, or who would sympathise with the struggling joys of
an embryo father. To their thinking, women were occasionally very
convenient as being the depositaries of some of the accruing wealth
of the world. Frank had been quite worthy of their friendship as
having "spotted" and nearly "run down" for himself a well-laden
city heiress. But now Tom Shuttlecock and Lord John Battledore
were distasteful to him,--as would he be to them. But he found the
confidential friend in his maiden aunt.
Miss Houston was an old lady,--older than her time, as are some
people,--who lived alone in a small house in Green Street. She was
particular in calling it Green Street, Hyde Park. She was very
anxious to have it known that she never occupied it during the months
of August, September, and October,--though it was often the case with
her that she did not in truth expatriate herself for more than six
weeks. She was careful to have a fashionable seat in a fashionable
church. She dearly loved to see her name in the papers when she was
happy enough to be invited to a house whose entertainments were
chronicled. There were a thousand little tricks,--I will not be harsh
enough to call them unworthy,--by which she served Mammon. But she
did not limit her service to the evil spirit. When in her place in
church she sincerely said her prayers. When in London, or out of it,
she gave a modicum of her slender income to the poor. And, though she
liked to see her name in the papers as one of the fashionable world,
she was a great deal too proud of the blood of the Houstons to toady
any one or to ask for any favour. She was a neat, clean, nice-looking
old lady, who understood that if economies were to be made in eating
and drinking they should be effected at her own table and not at that
of the servants who waited upon her. This was the confidential friend
whom Frank trusted in his new career.
It must be explained that Aunt Rosina, as Miss Houston was called,
had been well acquainted with her nephew's earlier engagement,
and had approved of Imogene as his future wife. Then had come the
unexpected collapse in the uncle's affairs, by which Aunt Rosina as
well as others in the family had suffered,--and Frank, much to his
aunt's displeasure, had allowed himself to be separated from the lady
of his love on account of his comparative poverty. She had heard
of Gertrude Tringle and all her money, but from a high standing of
birth and social belongings had despised all the Tringles and all
their money. To her, as a maiden lady, truth in love was everything.
To her, as a well-born lady, good blood was everything. Therefore,
though there had been no quarrel between her and Frank, there had
been a cessation of sympathetic interest, and he had been thrown into
the hands of the Battledores and Shuttlecocks. Now again the old
sympathies were revived, and Frank found it convenient to drink tea
with his aunt when other engagements allowed it.
"I call that an infernal interference," he said to his aunt, showing
her Imogene's letters.
"My dear Frank, you need not curse and swear," said the old lady.
"Infernal is not cursing nor yet swearing." Then Miss Houston, having
liberated her mind by her remonstrance, proceeded to read the letter.
"I call that abominable," said Frank, alluding of course to the
allusions made in the letter to Mudbury Docimer.
"It is a beautiful letter;--just what I should have expected from
Imogene. My dear, I will tell you what I propose. Remain as you are
both of you for five years."
"Five years. That's sheer nonsense."
"Five years, my dear, will run by like a dream. Five years to look
back upon is as nothing."
"But these five years are five years to be looked forward to. It is
out of the question."
"But you say that you could not live as a married man."
"Live! I suppose we could live." Then he thought of the cabbages and
the cottage at Pau. "There would be seven hundred a-year I suppose."
"Couldn't you do something, Frank?"
"What, to earn money? No; I don't think I could. If I attempted to
break stones I shouldn't break enough to pay for the hammers."
"Couldn't you write a book?"
"That would be worse than the stones. I sometimes thought I could
paint a picture,--but, if I did, nobody would buy it. As to making
money that is hopeless. I could save some, by leaving off gloves and
allowing myself only three clean shirts a-week."
"That would be dreadful, Frank."
"It would be dreadful, but it is quite clear that I must do
something. An effort has to be made." This he said with a voice the
tone of which was almost heroic. Then they discussed the matter at
great length, in doing which Aunt Rosina thoroughly encouraged him
in his heroism. That idea of remaining unmarried for another short
period of five years was allowed to go by the board, and when they
parted on that night it was understood that steps were to be taken to
bring about a marriage as speedily as possible.
"Perhaps I can do a little to help," said Aunt Rosina, in a faint
whisper as Frank left the room.
Frank Houston, when he showed Imogene's letter to his aunt, had
already answered it. Then he waited a day or two, not very patiently,
for a further rejoinder from Imogene,--in which she of course was
to unsay all that she had said before. But when, after four or five
days, no rejoinder had come, and his fervour had been increased by
his expectation, then he told his aunt that he should immediately
take some serious step. The more ardent he was the better his aunt
loved him. Could he have gone down and carried off his bride, and
married her at once, in total disregard of the usual wedding-cake and
St.-George's-Hanover-Square ceremonies to which the Houston family
had always been accustomed, she could have found it in her heart to
forgive him. "Do not be rash, Frank," she said. He merely shook his
head, and as he again left her declared that he was not going to be
driven this way or that by such a fellow as Mudbury Docimer.
"As I live, there's Frank coming through the gate." This was said by
Imogene to her sister-in-law, as they were walking up and down the
road which led from the lodge to the Tregothnan house. The two ladies
were at that moment discussing Imogene's affairs. No rejoinder had
as yet been made to Frank's last letter, which, to Imogene's feeling,
was the most charming epistle which had ever come from the hands of
a true lover. There had been passion and sincerity in every word of
it;--even when he had been a little too strong in his language as he
denounced the hard-hearted counsels of her brother. But yet she had
not responded to all this sincerity, nor had she as yet withdrawn
the resolution which she had herself declared. Mrs. Docimer was of
opinion that that resolution should not be withdrawn, and had striven
to explain that the circumstances were now the same as when, after
full consideration, they had determined that the engagement should
come to an end. At this very moment she was speaking words of wisdom
to this effect, and as she did so Frank appeared, walking up from the
gate.
"What will Mudbury say?" was Mrs. Docimer's first ejaculation.
But Imogene, before she had considered how this danger might be
encountered, rushed forward and gave herself up,--I fear we must
confess,--into the arms of her lover. After that it was felt at once
that she had withdrawn all her last resolution and had vacillated
again. There was no ground left even for an argument now that she had
submitted herself to be embraced. Frank's words of affection need not
here be repeated, but they were of a nature to leave no doubt on the
minds of either of the ladies.
Mudbury had declared that he would not receive Houston in his
house as his sister's lover, and had expressed his opinion that
even Houston would not have the face to show his face there. But
Houston had come, and something must be done with him. It was soon
ascertained that he had walked over from Penzance, which was but
two miles off, and had left his portmanteau behind him. "I wouldn't
bring anything," said he. "Mudbury would find it easier to maltreat
my things than myself. It would look so foolish to tell the man with
a fly to carry them back at once. Is he in the house?"
"He is about the place," said Mrs. Docimer, almost trembling.
"Is he very fierce against me?"
"He thinks it had better be all over."
"I am of a different way of thinking, you see. I cannot acknowledge
that he has any right to dictate to Imogene."
"Nor can I," said Imogene.
"Of course he can turn me out."
"If he does I shall go with you," said Imogene.
"We have made up our minds to it," said Frank, "and he had better let
us do as we please. He can make himself disagreeable, of course; but
he has got no power to prevent us." Now they had reached the house,
and Frank was of course allowed to enter. Had he not entered neither
would Imogene, who was so much taken by this further instance of
her lover's ardour that she was determined now to be led by him
in everything. His explanation of that word "enticed" had been so
thoroughly satisfactory to her that she was no longer in the least
angry with herself because she had enticed him. She had quite come to
see that it is the duty of a young woman to entice a young man.
Frank and Imogene were soon left alone, not from any kindness of
feeling on the part of Mrs. Docimer, but because the wife felt it
necessary to find her husband. "Oh, Mudbury, who do you think has
come? He is here!"
"Houston!"
"Yes; Frank Houston!"
"In the house?"
"He is in the house. But he hasn't brought anything. He doesn't mean
to stay."
"What does that matter? He shall not be asked even to dine here."
"If he is turned out she will go with him! If she says so she will do
it. You cannot prevent her. That's what would come of it if she were
to insist on going up to London with him."
"He is a scoundrel!"
"No; Mudbury;--not a scoundrel. You cannot call him a scoundrel.
There is something firm about him; isn't there?"
"To come to my house when I told him not?"
"But he does really love her."
"Bother!"
"At any rate there they are in the breakfast-parlour, and something
must be done. I couldn't tell him not to come in. And she wouldn't
have come without him. There will be enough for them to live upon.
Don't you think you'd better?" Docimer, as he returned to the house,
declared that he "did not think he'd better." But he had to confess
to himself that, whether it were better or whether it were worse, he
could do very little to prevent it.
The greeting of the two men was anything but pleasant. "What I have
got to say I would rather say outside," said Docimer.
"Certainly," said Frank. "I suppose I'm to be allowed to return?"
"If he does not,"--said Imogene, who at her brother's request had
left the room, but still stood at the open door,--"if he does not
I shall go to him in Penzance. You will hardly attempt to keep me a
prisoner."
"Who says that he is not to return? I think that you are two idiots,
but I am quite aware that I cannot prevent you from being married if
you are both determined." Then he led the way out through the hall,
and Frank followed him. "I cannot understand that any man should be
so fickle," he said, when they were both out on the walk together.
"Constant, I should suppose you mean."
"I said fickle, and I meant it. It was at your own suggestion that
you and Imogene were to be separated."
"No doubt; it was at my suggestion, and with her consent. But you see
that we have changed our minds."
"And will change them again."
"We are steady enough in our purpose, now, at any rate. You hear
what she says. If I came down here to persuade her to alter her
purpose,--to talk her into doing something of which you disapproved,
and as to which she agreed with you,--then you might do something by
quarreling with me. But what's the use of it, when she and I are of
one mind? You know that you cannot talk her over."
"Where do you mean to live?"
"I'll tell you all about that if you'll allow me to send into
Penzance for my things. I cannot discuss matters with you if you
proclaim yourself to be my enemy. You say we are both idiots."
"I do."
"Very well. Then you had better put up with two idiots. You can't
cure their idiocy. Nor have you any authority to prevent them from
exhibiting it." The argument was efficacious though the idiocy was
acknowledged. The portmanteau was sent for, and before the evening
was over Frank had again been received at Tregothnan as Imogene's
accepted lover.
Then Frank had his story to tell and his new proposition to make.
Aunt Rosina had offered to join her means with his. The house in
Green Street, no doubt, was small, but room it was thought could be
made, at any rate till the necessity had come for various cribs and
various cradles. "I cannot imagine that you will endure to live with
Aunt Rosina," said the brother.
"Why on earth should I object to Aunt Rosina?" said Imogene. "She and
I have always been friends." In her present mood she would hardly
have objected to live with any old woman, however objectionable. "And
we shall be able to have a small cottage somewhere," said Frank. "She
will keep the house in London, and we shall keep the cottage."
"And what on earth will you do with yourself?"
"I have thought of that too," said Frank. "I shall take to painting
pictures in earnest;--portraits probably. I don't see why I shouldn't
do as well as anybody else."
"That head of yours of old Mrs. Jones," said Imogene, "was a great
deal better than dozens of things one sees every year in the
Academy."
"Bother!" exclaimed Docimer.
"I don't see why he should not succeed, if he really will work hard,"
said Mrs. Docimer.
"Bother!"
"Why should it be bother?" said Frank, put upon his mettle. "Ever so
many fellows have begun and have got on, older than I am. And, even
if I don't earn anything, I've got an employment."
"And is the painting-room to be in Green Street also?" asked Docimer.
"Just at present I shall begin by copying things at the National
Gallery," explained Houston, who was not as yet prepared with his
answer to that difficulty as to a studio in the little house in Green
Street.
When the matter had been carried as far as this it was manifest
enough that anything like opposition to Imogene's marriage was to be
withdrawn. Houston remained at Tregothnan for a couple of days and
then returned to London. A week afterwards the Docimers followed
him, and early in the following June the two lovers, after all their
troubles and many vacillations, were made one at St. George's church,
to the great delight of Aunt Rosina. It cannot be said that the
affair gave equal satisfaction to all the bridegroom's friends, as
may be learnt from the following narration of two conversations which
took place in London very shortly after the wedding.
"Fancy after all that fellow Houston going and marrying such a
girl as Imogene Docimer, without a single blessed shilling to keep
themselves alive." This was said in the smoking-room of Houston's
club by Lord John Battledore to Tom Shuttlecock; but it was said
quite aloud, so that Houston's various acquaintances might be enabled
to offer their remarks on so interesting a subject; and to express
their pity for the poor object of their commiseration.
"It's the most infernal piece of folly I ever heard in my life," said
Shuttlecock. "There was that Tringle girl with two hundred thousand
pounds to be had just for the taking;--Traffick's wife's sister, you
know."
"There was something wrong about that," said another. "Benjamin
Batsby, that stupid fellow who used to be in the twentieth, ran off
with her just when everything had been settled between Houston and
old Tringle."
"Not a bit of it," said Battledore. "Tringle had quarrelled with
Houston before that. Batsby did go with her, but the governor
wouldn't come down with the money. Then the girl was brought back
and there was no marriage." Upon that the condition of poor Gertrude
in reference to her lovers and her fortune was discussed by those
present with great warmth; but they all agreed that Houston had
proved himself to be a bigger fool than any of them had expected.
"By George, he's going to set up for painting portraits," said Lord
John, with great disgust.
In Queen's Gate the matter was discussed by the ladies there very
much in the same spirit. At this time Gertrude was engaged to Captain
Batsby, if not with the full approbation at any rate with the consent
both of her father and mother, and therefore she could speak of
Frank Houston and his bride, if with disdain, still without wounded
feelings. "Here it is in the papers, Francis Houston and Imogene
Docimer," said Mrs. Traffick.
"So she has really caught him at last!" said Gertrude.
"There was not much to catch," rejoined Mrs. Traffick. "I doubt
whether they have got £500 a year between them."
"It does seem so very sudden," said Lady Tringle.
"Sudden!" said Gertrude. "They have been about it for the last five
years. Of course he has tried to wriggle out of it all through. I am
glad that she has succeeded at last, if only because he deserves it."
"I wonder where they'll find a place to live in," said Augusta. This
took place in the bedroom which Mrs. Traffick still occupied in
Queen's Gate, when she had been just a month a mother.
Thus, with the kind assistance of Aunt Rosina, Frank Houston and
Imogene Docimer were married at last, and the chronicler hereby
expresses a hope that it may not be long before Frank may see a
picture of his own hanging on the walls of the Academy, and that he
may live to be afraid of the coming of no baby.