CHAPTER VIII.

A TACIT BARGAIN.

Meanwhile Mr. Oswald Cray had dined at his rustic inn, the "Apple

Tree," and was on his way to pay an evening visit at Dr. Davenal's. In

passing along New Street he encountered his half-brother, turning

hastily out of his lodgings.

"Were you coming in, Oswald?" asked Marcus, as they shook hands. "I

heard you were down."

"Not now," replied Oswald. "I am going on to Dr. Davenal's, and I go

up again by the night train. My visit here today was to Lady Oswald.

We are going to take a strip of her grounds for sheds, and she does

not like it."

"Not like it!" echoed Mark. "It's worse than that. You should have

seen the way she was in this afternoon. It won't hurt the grounds."

"Not at all. But she cannot be brought to see that it will not. In

point of fact, the sound of it is worse than the reality will be. It

does sound ill, I confess,--railway-sheds upon one's grounds! I was in

hopes of being the first to break the news to her: so much lies in the

telling of a thing; in the impression first imparted."

"She said this afternoon that it all lay with you. That you could

spare her grounds if you would."

"I wish it did lie with me: I would do my best to find another spot

and spare them. The company have fixed upon the site, Low has given

his concurrence, and there's no more to be said or done. I am very

sorry, but it has been no doing of mine. Will you go with me to the

doctor's, Mark?"

Marcus hesitated, and then said he had rather not call that evening.

"Why?" asked Oswald.

"Well--the fact is,--I don't see why I may not tell you,--I have been

asking the doctor this afternoon for Caroline. He did not give me a

positive answer, one way or the other; and I don't think it will look

well to press a visit upon them just now."

Oswald Cray's was not a demonstrative countenance: a self-controlled

man's rarely is: but certainly it exhibited marked surprise now, and

he gazed at his brother inquiringly.

"You are surely not thinking of marrying?"

"Yes, I am. Why should I not think of it?"

"But what have you to marry upon? What means?"

"Oh--I must get Dr. Davenal to increase my share. By a word he dropped

this afternoon when we were talking of it, I fancy he would do it:

would increase it to four hundred a-year. We might manage upon that."

Oswald Cray made no immediate reply. He, the self-reliant man, would

have felt both pain and shame at the very thought of marrying upon the

help of others.

"You are thinking it's not enough, Oswald?"

"It might be enough for prudent people. But I don't think it would be

found enough by you and Caroline Davenal. Mark, I fancy--I shall not

offend you?--fancy you are not of a prudent turn."

"I don't know that I am. But any man can be prudent when there's a

necessity that he should be."

"It has not always proved so."

"I see you think me a spendthrift," said Mark good-humouredly.

"Not exactly that. I think you could not live upon as small an income

as some can. Dr. Davenal gives you, I believe, two hundred a-year, and

you have been with him six months: my opinion is, Mark, that at the

twelvemonth's end you will find the two hundred has nothing like kept

you. You will be looking about for another hundred to pay debts."

"Are you so particularly saving yourself?" retorted Mark.

"That is not the question, Mark; I am not going to be married,"

answered Oswald, with a smile. "But I do save."

"If the doctor will give me four hundred a-year to begin with, there's

no need to wait."

"You have no furniture."

"That's easily ordered," said Mark.

"Very easily indeed," laughed Oswald. "But there'll be the paying for

it."

"It won't take so much. We shall not set up in a grand way. We can pay

by instalments."

"A bad beginning, Mark."

Mark rather winced. "Are you going to turn against me, Oswald? To

throw cold water on it?"

Oswald Cray looked very grave as he answered. Mark was not his own

brother, and he could not urge him too much; but a conviction seated

itself in his heart, perhaps not for the first time, that Mark had

inherited their father's imprudence.

"These considerations are for you, Mark; not for me. If I speak of

them to you, I do so only in your true interest. We have never been

brothers, therefore I do not presume to give a brother's counsel,--you

would deem I had no right to do it. Only be prudent, for your own sake

and Caroline's. Good evening, if you will go back."

Neal admitted Mr. Oswald Cray, and Neal's face lighted up with the

most apparent genuine pleasure at doing it. Neal was the quintessence

of courteous respect to his betters, but an additional respect would

show itself in his manner to Mr. Oswald Cray, from the fact possibly

that he had served in the Oswald family at Thorndyke, and Mr. Oswald

Cray was so near a connection of it.

Dr. Davenal was then in the garden-parlour with Sara. The noisy boys

were regaling themselves with good things in the dining-room, under

the presidentship of Miss Bettina. A few moments, and the doctor and

Mr. Oswald Cray were deep in the discussion of the proposition that

had so moved them; the doctor being the first to speak of it. Sara sat

near the window, doing some light work. A fair picture she looked, in

her evening dress; her cheeks somewhat flushed, her neck so fair and

white, the gold chain lying on it; her pretty arms partially hidden by

their white lace. Dr. Davenal stood in a musing attitude on the other

side of the window, and Mr. Oswald Cray sat between them, a little

back, his elbow on the centre table, his chin on his hand.

"Mark has just told me of it," he observed, in reply to Dr. Davenal.

"I met him as I walked here. I was very much surprised."

"Not more surprised than I," returned the doctor.

"At least, surprised that he should have spoken to you so soon."

"What do you think of it?" asked the doctor, abruptly.

"Nay, sir, it is for you to think," was the reply of Oswald Cray,

after a momentary pause.

"I know--in that sense. My opinion is, that it is exceedingly

premature."

"Well--yes, I confess it appears so to me. I told Mark so. There's one

thing, Dr. Davenal--some men get on all the better for marrying

early."

"True: and some all the better for waiting. I like those men who have

the courage and patience to wait, bearing steadily on to the right

moment and working for it. I married very early in life myself, but my

circumstances justified it. Where circumstances do not justify it, a

man should wait. I don't mean waiting on to an unreasonable time,

until the sear and yellow leaf's advancing; nothing of that: but

there's a medium in all things. I am sure you would not rush into an

imprudent marriage: you'd wait your time."

A smile parted Oswald Cray's lips. "I am obliged to wait, sir."

"That is, prudence obliges you?"

"Yes; that's it."

"And I make no doubt your income is a good deal larger than the

present one of Mark?"

"I believe it is."

Dr. Davenal stood in silence, twirling his watch chain. "Give me your

advice," he said, turning to Mr. Oswald Cray.

"Dr. Davenal, may I tell you that I would prefer not to give it? By

blood Mark is my half-brother; but you know the circumstances under

which we were reared--that we are, in actual fact, little more than

strangers; and I feel the greatest delicacy in interfering with him in

anyway. I will do him any good that I can: but I will not give advice

regarding him in so momentous a step as this?"

Dr. Davenal understood the feeling, it was a perfectly proper one. "Do

you think he has much stability?--enough to steer him safely through

life, clear of shoals and quicksands?"

Oswald Cray's opinion was that Mark possessed none. But he was not

sure: he had had so little to do with him. "Indeed, I cannot speak

with certainty," was his answer. "Mark is far more of a stranger to me

than he is to you. Stability sometimes comes with years only; with

time and experience."

"I cannot tell you how surprised I was," resumed the doctor, after a

pause. "Had Mark come and proposed to marry Bettina, I could not have

been more astonished. The fact is, I had somehow got upon the wrong

scent."

"The wrong scent?" exclaimed Mr. Oswald Cray, looking up.

"I don't mind telling you, considering how different, as it has turned

out, was the actual state of things," said Dr. Davenal, with a laugh.

"I fancied you were inclined to like Caroline?"

Mr. Oswald Cray's deep-set blue eyes were opened wider than usual in

his astonishment. "What caused you to fancy that?"

"Upon my word I don't know. Looking back, I think how foolish I must

have been. But you see, that idea tended to obscure my view as to

Mark."

Oswald Cray rose from his seat, and stood by Dr. Davenal, looking from

the window.

"Had it been so, would you have objected to me?" he asked; and in his

voice, jesting though it was, there rang a sound of deep meaning.

"No, I would not," replied Dr. Davenal. "I wish it had been so. Don't

talk of it; it will put me out of conceit of Mark."

Mr. Oswald Cray laughed, and stole a glance at Sara. Her cheeks were

crimson; her head was bent closer to her work than it need have been.

At that moment Dr. Davenal's carriage was heard coming up the side

lane, Roger's head and shoulders just visible over the garden wall.

Dr. Davenal gave the man a nod as he passed, as much as to say he

should be out immediately, and retreated into the room. It had broken

the thread of the discourse.

"You came down in answer to Lady Oswald's message?" he observed. "She

said she had sent for you."

"Not in answer to the message. I came away before it reached London:

at any rate before it reached me."

"Lady Oswald's in a fine way. I suppose nothing can be done?"

"Nothing at all. It is unfortunate that her grounds abut just on that

part of the line."

"She will never stop in the house."

"You see, the worst is, that she has just entered upon the third term

of her lease. She took it for seven, fourteen, or twenty-one years. I

am not sure, however, that Mr. Low, under the circumstances, could

oppose her depart"--

"Uncle Richard, the carriage is come round to the door. How are you,

Mr. Oswald Cray?"

The interruption came from the boys. Both had rushed in without any

regard to noise; or rather to the avoidance of it. Mr. Oswald Cray

shook hands with them, and the doctor turned to shake hands with

_him_.

"I have to see a patient or two tonight. A poor countrywoman's son is

ill, and I promised her to go over this evening if possible. Perhaps

you'll be here when I return. Bettina and the girls will give you some

tea."

He hurried out; and the boys after him, clamorously enough. During

their holidays, Dr. Davenal could rarely get into his carriage without

those two dancing attendance round it, like a bodyguard of jumping

savages. Mr. Oswald Cray turned to Sara, who had risen also, and stood

before her.

"Just one moment, Sara, for a single question. Did _you_ fall into the

misapprehension that I was growing attached to your cousin?"

Her manner grew shrinkingly timid; her eyelashes were never raised

from her hot cheeks. It seemed that she would have spoken, for her

lips parted; but there came no sound from them.

"Nay, but you must answer me," he rejoined, some agitation

distinguishable in his tone. "Did you do me the injustice to suppose I

had any thought of Caroline?"

"No. O no."

He drew a deep breath, as if the words relieved him, took her hand in

his, and laid his other hand upon it, very seriously.

"It was well to ask: but I did not think you could so have mistaken

me. Sara! I am not an imprudent man, as I fear Mark is; I could not,

in justice to the woman whom I wish to make my wife, ask her to leave

her home of comfort until I can surround her with one somewhat

equivalent to it. I think--I hope--that another year may accomplish

this. Meanwhile--you will not misunderstand me, or the motives of my

silence?"

She lifted her eyes to his face to speak: they were swimming in tears:

lifted them in her earnestness.

"I shall never misunderstand you, Oswald."

And Mr. Oswald Cray, for the first time in his life, bent his lips on

hers to seal the tacit bargain.

Oswald Cray: A Novel · 第 8 / 63 章