NEAL'S CURIOSITY.
They sat around the dinner-table; Dr. Davenal, Miss Bettina, Sara, and
Caroline. It was an unusually silent table. Dr. Davenal could not
digest the demand of Mr. Cray for Caroline; Caroline was conscious and
timid; Sara scented something not altogether comfortable in the air,
and did not raise her eyes from her plate; and it was one of the
unusually deaf days of Miss Bettina.
Neal moved about noiselessly. Being a treasure of a servant, of course
he always did move noiselessly. Quite an artistic performance was
Neal's waiting; in his own person he did the waiting of three; and so
tranquilly assiduous was his mode of accomplishing it so perfect
indeed were Neal's ways in the household, that Miss Bettina rarely let
a day pass without sounding his praise.
Strange to say, the doctor did not like him. Why it was, or how it
was, he could not tell, but he had never taken heartily to Neal. So
strong was the feeling, that it may almost be said he hated Neal; and
yet the man fulfilled all his duties so well that there was no fault
to be found with him, no excuse invented for discharging him. The
doctor's last indoor man had not been anything like so efficient a
servant as Neal, was not half so fine a gentleman, had ten faults
where Neal did not appear to have one. But the doctor had liked _him_,
good rough honest old Giles, had kept him for many years, and only
parted with him when he got too old to work. Then Neal presented
himself. Neal had once lived with Lady Oswald; he had been groom of
the chambers at Thorndyke in Sir John's time, and Lady Oswald kept him
for a twelvemonth after Sir John's death, and nearly cried when she
parted with him; but Neal refused point-blank to go out with the
carriage, and Lady Oswald did not wish to keep on three men-servants.
Neal found a place in London, and they lost sight of him for some
years; but he made his appearance at Lady Oswald's again one
day--having come down by the new railroad to see what change it had
made in the old place, and to pay his respects to my lady. My lady was
gratified by the attention, and inquired what he was doing. He had
left his situation, he answered, and he had some thoughts of trying
for one in the country; my lady was aware, no doubt, how close and
smoky London was, and he found that it had told upon his health; if he
could hear of a quiet place in the country he believed he might be
induced to take it, however disadvantageous it might be to him in a
pecuniary point of view. Did my lady happen to know of one? My lady
did happen to know of one: Dr. Davenal's, who was then parting with
old Giles. She thought it would be the very place for Neal; Neal the
very man for the place; and in the propensity for managing other
people's business, which was as strong upon Lady Oswald as it is upon
many more of us, she ordered her carriage and drove to Dr. Davenal's,
and never left him until he had promised Neal the situation.
In good truth, Dr. Davenal deemed that Neal would suit him very well,
provided he could bring his notions down to the place; and that, as
Lady Oswald said, Neal intended to do. But to be groom of the chambers
to a nobleman who kept his score or so of servants (for that was
understood in the town to have been Neal's situation), and to be sole
indoor manservant to a doctor, keeping three maids only besides, and
the coachman in the stables, would be a wide gulf of difference. Neal,
however, accepted the place, and Dr. Davenal took him on the
recommendation of Lady Oswald, without referring to the nobleman in
town.
But even in the very preliminary interview when the engagement was
made, Dr. Davenal felt a dislike steal over him for the man. Instinct
would have prompted him to say, "You will not suit me;" reason
overpowered it, and whispered, "He will prove an excellent servant;"
and Dr. Davenal engaged him. That was just before Richard went out to
Barbadoes, and ever since then the doctor had been saying to himself
how full of prejudice was his dislike, considering the excellent
servant that Neal proved to be. But he could not overget the
prejudice.
Neal cleared the table when the dinner was over, and placed the
dessert upon it. Dr. Davenal did not care for dessert; deemed it waste
of time to sit at it; waste of eating to partake of it: but Miss
Bettina, who favoured most of the customs and fashions of her
girlhood, would as soon have thought of dispensing with her dinner.
Dr. Davenal generally withdrew with the cloth; sometimes, if not busy,
he stayed a few minutes to chat with his daughter and Caroline; but
calls on his time and services were made after dinner as well as
before it.
On this day he did not leave his place. He sat at the foot of the
large table, Miss Davenal opposite him at its head, the young ladies
between them, one on each side. Interrupted by Lady Oswald in the
afternoon, he had not yet spoken to Caroline; and that he was
preparing to do now.
He drew his chair near to her, and began in a low tone. Sara rose
soon, and quitted the room; Miss Davenal was deaf; they were, so to
say, alone.
"My dear, Mr. Cray is not the man I would have preferred to choose for
you. Are you aware how very small is the income he derives from his
partnership with me?"
Caroline caught up the glistening damask dessert napkin, and began
pulling out the threads of its fringe. "His prospects are very fair,
Uncle Richard."
"Fair enough, insomuch as that he may enjoy the whole of this practice
in time. But that time may be long in coming, Caroline; twenty years
hence, for all we know. I shall be but seventy then, and my father at
seventy was as good a man as I am now."
Her fingers pulled nervously at the fringe, and she did not raise her
eyes. "I hope you will live much longer than that, Uncle Richard."
"So long as I live, Caroline, and retain my health and strength, so
long shall I pursue my practice and take its largest share of profits.
Mr. Cray understood that perfectly when I admitted him to a small
share as a partner. I did it for his sake, to give him a standing. I
had no intention of taking a partner: I wished only for an assistant;
but out of regard to his prospects, to give him a footing, I say, I
let him have a trifling share, suffered it to be known in Hallingham
that he was made a partner of by Dr. Davenal. He has but two hundred
a-year from me."
"It does not cost much to live," said Caroline. "We need not keep many
servants."
Dr. Davenal paused, feeling that she was hopelessly inexperienced. "My
dear, what do you suppose it costs us to live as we do?--here, in this
house?"
"Ever so much," was Caroline's lucid answer.
"It costs me something like twelve hundred a-year, Caroline, and I
have no house-rent to pay."
She did not answer. Miss Davenal's sharp eyes caught sight of
Caroline's damaging fingers, and she called out to know what she was
doing with the dessert napkin. Caroline laid it on the table beside
her plate.
"I cannot afford to increase Mr. Cray's salary very much," continued
Dr. Davenal. "To reduce my own style of living I do not feel inclined,
and Edward draws largely upon me. Extravagant chaps are those young
officers!" added the doctor, falling into abstraction. "There's not
one of them, as I believe, Makes his pay suffice."
He paused. Caroline took up a biscuit and began crumbling it on her
plate.
"The very utmost that I could afford to give him would be four hundred
per annum," resumed Dr. Davenal "and I believe that I shall
inconvenience myself to do this. But that's not it. There"----
"Oh, Uncle Richard, it is ample. Four hundred a-year! We could not
spend it."
He shook his head at the impulsive interruption; at its unconscious
ignorance. "Caroline, I was going to say that the mere income is not
all the question. If you marry Mr. Cray, he can make no settlement
upon you; more than that, he has no home, no furniture. I think he has
been precipitate; inconsiderately so, few men would ask a young lady
to be their wife until they had a house to take her to; or money in
hand to procure one."
Caroline's eyes filled with tears. She had hard work to keep them from
dropping.
"Carine," he said caressingly, "is it quite _irrevocable_, this
attachment?"
The tears went down on the crumbled biscuit. She murmured some words
which the doctor but imperfectly caught; only just sufficiently so to
gather that it _was_ irrevocable--or that at any rate the young lady
thought so. He sighed.
"Listen to me, child. I should never attempt to oppose your
inclinations; I should not think of forbidding any marriage that you
had set your heart upon. If you have fixed on Mr. Cray, or he on
you--it comes to the same--I will not set my will against it. But one
thing I must urge upon you both--to wait."
"Do you dislike Mr. Cray, Uncle Richard?"
"Dislike him! no, child. Have I not made him my partner? I like him
personally very much. I don't know whether he has much stability,"
continued the doctor, in a musing tone, as though he were debating the
question with himself. "But let that pass. My objection to him for
you, Caroline, is chiefly on a pecuniary score."
"I am sure we shall have enough," she answered, in a lower tone.
"If I give my consent, Carry, I shall give it under protest; and make
a bargain with you at the same time."
Caroline lifted her eyes. His voice had turned to a jesting one.
"What protest?---what bargain?" she asked.
"That I give the consent in opposition to my better judgment. The
bargain is, that when you find you have married imprudently and cannot
make both ends meet, you don't turn round and blame me."
She bent her eyes with a smile and shook her head in answer, and began
twisting the chain that lay upon her fair neck, the bracelets on her
pretty arms. She wore the same rich dress that she had worn in the
afternoon, as did Sara; but the high bodies had been exchanged for low
ones, the custom for dinner at Dr. Davenal's.
"I will not withhold my consent. But," he added, his tone changing to
the utmost seriousness, "I shall recommend you both to wait. To wait
at least a year or two. You are very young, only twenty."
"I am twenty-one, Uncle Richard," she cried out. "It is Sara who is
only twenty."
He smiled at the eagerness. One year seems so much to the young.
"Twenty-one, then: since last week, I believe. And Mark is three or
four years older. You can well afford to wait. A year or two's time
may make a wonderful difference in the position of affairs. Your share
of that disputed property may have come to you, rendering a settlement
upon you feasible; and Mark, if he chooses to be saving, may have got
chairs and tables together. Perhaps I may increase his share at once
to help him do it."
"Would you be so kind as enlighten me as to the topic of your
conversation with Caroline, Dr. Davenal?"
The interruption come from Miss Bettina. Deaf as she was, it was
impossible for her not to perceive that some subject of unusual moment
was being discussed, and nothing annoyed her more than to fancy she
was purposely kept in the dark. For the last five minutes she had sat
ominously upright in her chair. Very upright she always did sit, at
all times and seasons; but in moments of displeasure this stiff
uprightness was unpleasantly perceptible. Dr. Davenal rose from his
seat and walked towards her, bending his face a little. He had a
dislike to talk to her on her very deaf days: it made him hoarse for
hours afterwards.
"Caroline wants to be married, Bettina?"
Miss Bettina did catch the right words this time, but she doubted it.
She had not yet learnt to look upon Caroline as aught but a child.
Could the world have gone round in accordance with the ideas of Miss
Bettina, nobody with any regard to propriety would have married in it
until the age of thirty was past. Her cold grey eyes and her mouth
gradually opened as she looked from her brother to her niece, from her
niece to her brother.
"Wants to be what, did you say?"
"To be married, Aunt Bett," cried out the doctor. "It's the fashion,
it seems, with the young folks nowadays! You were not in so great a
hurry when you were young?"
The doctor spoke in no covert spirit of joking--as a stranger might
have supposed, Miss Davenal being Miss Davenal still. Bettina Davenal
had had her romance in life. In her young days, when she was not much
older than Caroline, a poor curate had sought to make her his wife.
She was greatly attached to him, but he was very, very poor, and
prudence said, "Wait until better times shall come for him." Miss
Bettina's father and mother were alive then; the latter a great
invalid, and that also weighed with her, for in her duty and affection
she did not like to leave her home. Ay, cold and unsympathising as she
appeared to be now, Bettina Davenal had once been a warm, loving girl,
an affectionate daughter. And so, by her own fiat, she waited and
waited, and in her thirtieth year that poor curate, never promoted to
be a richer one, had died--had died of bad air, and hard work, and
poor nourishment. His duties were cast in the midst of one of our
worst metropolitan localities; and they were heavy, and his stipend
was small. From that time Bettina Davenal's disposition had changed;
she grew cold, formal, hard: repentance, it was suspected, was ever
upon her, that she had not risked the prudence and saved his life. Her
own fortune added to what he earned, would at least have kept him from
the ills of poverty.
"Who wants to marry her?" questioned Miss Davenal, when she could take
her condemning eyes away from Caroline.
"Mark Cray."
The words seemed to mollify Miss Davenal in a slight degree, and her
head relaxed a very little from its uprightness. "She might do worse,
Richard. He is a good man, and I dare say he is making money. Those
civil engineers get on well."
"I said _Mark_ Cray, Aunt Bett," repeated the doctor.
"Mark! _He_ won't do. He is only a boy. He has got neither house nor
money."
"Just what I say," said the doctor. "I tell her they must wait."
"Mad! to be sure they must be mad, both of them," complaisantly
acquiesced Miss Davenal.
"Wait, I said, Bettina," roared the doctor.
"You need not rave at me, Richard. I am not as deaf as a post. Who
says anything about 'fate?' Fate, indeed! don't talk of fate to me.
Where's your common-sense gone?"
"Wait, I said, Aunt Bett! Wa-a-a-it! I tell them they must wait."
"No," said Aunt Bett. "Better break it off."
"I don't think they will," returned the doctor.
Miss Bettina turned her eyes on Caroline. That young lady, left to
herself, had pretty nearly done for the damask napkin. She dreaded but
one person in the world, and that was stern Aunt Bettina. Miss Bettina
rose in her slow stately fashion, and turned Caroline's drooping face
towards her.
"What in the world has put it into your head to think of Mark Cray?"
"I didn't think of him before he thought of me," was poor Caroline's
excuse, which, as a matter of course, Miss Davenal did not catch.
"Has it ever occurred to you to reflect, Caroline, how very serious a
step is that of settlement in life?"
"We shall get along, Aunt Bettina."
"I'll not get along," exclaimed Miss Bettina, her face darkening. "I
attempt to say a little word to you for your good, for your own
interest, and you tell me 'to get along!' How dare you, Caroline
Davenal?"
"Oh, Aunt Bettina! I said we should get along."
"I don't know that you would get along if you married Mark Cray. I
don't like Mark Cray. I did not think"----
"Why don't you like him, aunt?"
"I don't know," replied Miss Bettina. "He is too light and careless. I
did not think it a wise step of your uncle's to take him into
partnership; but it was not my province to interfere. The Crays
brought it to nothing, you know. Lived like princes for a few years,
and when affairs came to be looked into on Mr. Cray's death, the money
was gone."
"That was not Mark's fault," returned Caroline, indignantly. "It ought
to be no reason for your disliking _him_, Aunt Bettina."
"It gives one prejudices, you see. He may be bringing it to the same
in his own case before his life's over."
"You might as well say the same of Oswald," resentfully spoke
Caroline.
"No; Oswald's different. He is worth a thousand of Mark. Don't think
of Mark, Caroline. You might do so much better: better in all ways."
"I don't care to do better," was the rebellious answer. And then,
half-frightened at it, repenting of its insolence, poor Caroline burst
into tears. She felt very indignant at the disparagement of Mark.
Fortunately for her, Miss Davenal mistook the words.
"We don't care that you should do better! Of course we care. What are
you thinking of, child? Your uncle studies your interests as much as
he would study Sara's."
"More!" impulsively interrupted the doctor, who was pacing the room,
his hands under his coat-tails. "I might feel less scrupulous in
opposing Sara's inclination."
"You hear, Caroline! The doctor opposes this inclination of yours!"
Caroline cast a look to him, a sort of helpless appeal: not only that
he would _not_ oppose it, but that he would set right Miss Davenal.
"I don't oppose it, Bettina: I don't go so far as that. I recommend
them to wait. In a year or two"----
A loud knock at the hall-door startled Dr. Davenal. Knocks there were
pretty frequent--loud ones too; but this was loud and long as a peal
of thunder. And it startled somebody besides the doctor.