We 'll have you at our merry-making, too.
Honeymoon.
If we should appear, of late, to have forgotten some of those friends
with whom we first made our readers acquainted in this veracious
history, we beg to plead against any charge of caprice or neglect. The
cause is simply this: a story, like a stream, has one main current; and
he who would follow the broad river must eschew being led away by
every rivulet which may separate from the great flood to follow its own
vagrant fancy elsewhere. Now, the Kennyfecks had been meandering after
this fashion for some time back. The elder had commenced a very vigorous
flirtation with the dashing Captain Jennings, while the younger sister
was coyly dallying under the attentions of his brother hussar,--less,
be it remembered, with any direct intention of surrender, than with the
faint hope that Cashel, perceiving the siege, should think fit to rescue
the fortress; “Aunt Fanny” hovering near, as “an army of observation,”
and ready, like the Prussians in the last war, to take part with the
victorious side, whichever that might be.
And now, we ask in shame and sorrow, is it not humiliating to think,
that of a party of some thirty or more, met together to enjoy in
careless freedom the hospitality of a country house, all should have
been animated with the same spirit of intrigue,--each bent on his
own deep game, and, in some one guise or other of deceitfulness, each
following out some scheme of selfish advantage?
Some may say these things are forced and unnatural; that pleasure
proclaims a truce in the great war of life, where combatants lay down
their weapons, and mix like friends and allies. We fear this is not
the case; our own brief experiences would certainly tend to a different
conclusion. Less a player than a looker-on in the great game, we have
seen, through all the excitements of dissipation, all the fascinating
pleasures of the most brilliant circles, the steady onward pursuit of
self-interest; and, instead of the occasions of social enjoyment being
like the palm-shaded wells in the desert, where men meet to taste the
peacefulness of perfect rest, they are rather the arena where, in all
the glitter of the most splendid armor, the combatants have come to
tilt, with more than life upon the issue.
For this, the beauty wreathes herself in all the winning smiles of
loveliness; for this, the courtier puts forth his most captivating
address and his most seductive manner; for this, the wit sharpens the
keen edge of his fancy, and the statesman matures the deep resolve of
his judgment. The diamond coronets that deck the hair and add lustre
to the eyes; the war-won medals that glitter on the coat of some
hardy veteran; the proud insignia of merit that a sovereign's favor
grants,--all are worn to this end! Each brings to the game whatever he
may possess of superiority, for the contest is ever a severe one.
And now to go back to our company. From Lady Janet, intent upon
everything which might minister to her own comfort or mortify her
neighbor, to the smooth and soft-voiced Downie Meek,--with the kindest
of wishes and the coldest of hearts,--they were, we grieve to own
it, far more imposing to look at, full dressed at dinner, than to
investigate by the searching anatomy that discloses the vices and
foibles of humanity; and it is, therefore, with less regret we turn from
the great house, in all the pomp of its splendor, to the humble cottage
where Mr. Corrigan dwelt with his granddaughter.
In wide contrast to the magnificence and profusion of the costly
household, where each seemed bent on giving way to every caprice that
extravagance could suggest, was the simple quietude of that unpretending
family. The efforts by which Corrigan had overcome his difficulties not
only cost him all the little capital he possessed in the world, but
had also necessitated a mode of living more restricted than he had ever
known before. The little luxuries that his station, as well as his age
and long use, had made necessaries, the refinements that adorn even the
very simplest lives, had all to be, one by one, surrendered. Some of
these he gave up manfully, others cost him deeply; and when the day came
that he had to take leave of his old gray pony, the faithful companion
of so many a lonely ramble, the creature he had reared and petted like a
dog, the struggle was almost too much for him.
[Illustration: 050]
He walked along beside the man who led the beast to the gate, telling
him to be sure and seek out some one who would treat her kindly. “Some
there are would do so for my sake; but she deserves it better for her
own.--Yes, Nora, I 'm speaking of you,” said he, caressing her, as
she laid her nose over his arm. “I'm sure I never thought we'd have to
part.”
“She's good as goold this minit,” said the man; “an' it'll go hard but
'll get six pounds for her, any way.”
“Tell whoever buys her that Mr. Corrigan will give him a crown-piece
every Christmas-day that he sees her looking well and in good heart. To
be sure, it's no great bribe, we're both so old,” said he, smiling; “but
my blessing goes with the man that's a friend to her.” He sat down as
he said this, and held his hand over his face till she was gone. “God
forgive me, if I set my heart too much on such things, but it's like
parting with an old friend. Poor Mary's harp must go next. But here
comes Tiernay. Well, doctor, what news?”
The doctor shook his head twice or thrice despondingly, but said
nothing; at last, he muttered, in a grumbling voice,--
“I was twice at the Hall, but there's no seeing Cashel himself; an
insolent puppy of a valet turned away contemptuously as I asked for him,
and said,--
“Mr. Linton, perhaps, might hear what you have to say.'”
“Is Kennyfeck to be found?”
“Yes, I saw him for a few minutes; but he's like the rest of them. The
old fool fancies he 's a man of fashion here, and told me he had left
'the attorney' behind, in Merrion Square. He half confessed to me,
however, what I feared. Cashel has either given a promise to give this
farm of yours to Linton--”
“Well, the new landlord will not be less kind than the old one.”
“You think so,” said Tiernay, sternly. “Is your knowledge of life no
better than this? Have you lived till now without being able to read
that man? Come, come, Corrigan, don't treat this as a prejudice of mine;
I have watched him closely, and he sees it. I tell you again, the fellow
is a villain.”
“Ay, ay,” said Corrigan, laughing; “your doctor's craft has made you
always on the look-out for some hidden mischief.”
“My doctor's craft has taught me to know that symptoms are never without
a meaning. But enough of him. The question is simply this: we have,
then, merely to propose to Cashel the purchase of your interest in the
cottage, on which you will cede the possession.”
“Yes; and give up, besides, all claim at law; for you know we are
supported by the highest opinions.”
“Pooh! nonsense, man; don't embarrass the case by a pretension they
're sure to sneer at. The cottage and the little fields behind it are
tangible and palpable; don't weaken your case by a plea you could not
press.”
“Have your own way, then,” said the old man, mildly.
“It is an annuity, you say, you 'd wish?”
“On Mary's life, not on mine, doctor.”
“It will be a poor thing,” said Tiernay, with a sigh.
“They say we could live in some of the towns in Flanders very cheaply,”
said Corrigan, cheerfully.
“You don't know how to live cheaply,” rejoined Tiernay, crankily. “You
think, if you don't see a man in black behind your chair, and that you
eat off delf instead of silver, that you are a miracle of simplicity. I
saw you last Sunday put by the decanter with half a glass of sherry at
the bottom of it, and you were as proud of your thrift as if you had
reformed your whole household.”
“Everything is not learned in a moment, Tiernay,” said Corrigan, mildly.
“You are too old to begin, Con Corrigan,” said the other, gravely. “Such
men as you, who have not been educated to narrow fortunes, never learn
thrift; they can endure great privations well enough, but it is the
little, petty, dropping ones that break down the spirit,--these they
cannot meet.”
“A good conscience and a strong will can do a great deal, Tiernay. One
thing is certain,--that we shall escape persecution from _him_. _He_
will scarcely discover us in our humble retreat.”
“I've thought of that too,” said Tiernay; “it is the greatest advantage
the plan possesses. Now, the next point is, how to see this same Cashel;
from all that I can learn, his life is one of dissipation from morning
till night. Those fashionable sharpers by whom he is surrounded are
making him pay dearly for his admission into the honorable guild.”
“The greater the pity,” sighed Corrigan; “he appeared to me deserving of
a different fate. An easy, complying temper--”
“The devil a worse fault I 'd with my enemy,” broke in Tiernay,
passionately. “A field without a fence,--a house without a door to it!
And there, if I am not mistaken, I hear his voice; yes, he 's coming
along the path, and some one with him too.”
“I 'll leave you to talk to him, Tiernay, for you seem in 'the vein.'”
And with these words the old man turned into a by-path, just as Cashel,
with Lady Kilgoff on his arm, advanced up the avenue.
Nothing is more remarkable than the unconscious homage tendered to
female beauty and elegance by men whose mould of mind, as well as habit,
would seem to render them insensible to such fascinations, nor is their
instinctive admiration a tribute which beauty ever despises.
The change which came over the rough doctor's expression as the
party came nearer exemplified this truth strongly. The look of stern
determination with which he was preparing to meet Cashel changed to one
of astonishment, and, at last, to undisguised admiration, as he surveyed
the graceful mien and brilliant beauty before him. They had left the
phaeton at the little wicket, and the exercise on foot had slightly
colored her cheek, and added animation to her features,--the only aid
necessary to make her loveliness perfect.
“I have taken a great liberty with my neighbor, Doctor Tiernay,” said
Cashel, as he came near. “Let me present you, however, first,--Doctor
Tiernay, Lady Kilgoff. I had been telling her Ladyship that the only
picturesque portion of this country lies within this holly enclosure,
and is the property of my friend Mr. Corrigan, who, although he will
not visit me, will not, I 'm sure, deny me the pleasure of showing his
tasteful grounds to my friends.”
“My old friend would be but too proud of such a visitor,” said Tiernay,
bowing low to Lady Kilgoff.
“Mr. Cashel has not confessed all our object, Mr. Tiernay,” said she,
assuming her most gracious manner. “Our visit has in prospect the hope
of making Miss Leicester's acquaintance; as I know you are the intimate
friend of the family, will you kindly say if this be a suitable
hour, or, indeed, if our presence here at all would not be deemed an
intrusion?”
The doctor colored deeply, and his eye sparkled with pleasure; for
strange enough as it may appear, while sneering at the dissipations of
the great house, he felt a degree of indignant anger at the thought
of Mary sitting alone and neglected, with gayeties around her on every
side.
“It was a most thoughtful kindness of your Ladyship,” replied he, “for
my friend is too old and too infirm to seek society; and so the poor
child has no other companionship than two old men, only fit to weary
each other.”
“You make me hope that our mission will succeed, sir,” said Lady
Kilgoff, still employing her most fascinating look and voice; “we may
reckon you as an ally, I trust.”
“I am your Ladyship's most devoted,” said the old man, courteously; “how
can I be of service?”
“Our object is to induce Miss Leicester to pass some days with us,”
said she. “We are plotting various amusements that might interest
her,--private theatricals among the rest.”
“Here she comes, my Lady,” said Tiernay, with animation; “I am proud to
be the means of introducing her.”
Just at this instant Mary Leicester had caught sight of the party,
and, uncertain whether to advance or retire, was standing for a moment
undecided, when Tiernay called out:
“Stay a minute, Miss Mary; Lady Kilgoff is anxious to make your
acquaintance.”
“This is a very informal mode of opening an intimacy, Miss Leicester,”
said Lady Kilgoff; “pray let it have the merit of sincerity, for I have
long desired to know one of whom I have heard so much.”
Mary replied courteously to the speech, and looked pleasedly towards
Cashel, to whom she justly attributed the compliment insinuated.
As the two ladies moved on side by side, engaged in conversation,
Tiernay slackened his pace slightly, and, in a voice of low but earnest
import, said,--
“Will Mr. Cashel consider it an intrusion if I take this opportunity of
speaking to him on a matter of business?”
“Not in the least, doctor,” said Cashel, gayly; “but it's right I should
mention that I am most lamentably ignorant of everything that deserves
that name. My agent has always saved me from the confession, but the
truth will out at last.”
“So much the worse, sir,--for others as well as for yourself,” replied
Tiernay, bluntly. “The trust a large fortune imposes--But I shall forget
myself if I touch on such a theme. My business is this, sir,--and, in
mercy to you, I 'll make it very brief. My old friend, Mr. Corrigan,
deems it expedient to leave this country, and, in consequence,
to dispose of the interest he possesses in these grounds, so long
embellished by his taste and culture. He is well aware that much of what
he has expended here has not added substantial value to the property;
that, purely ornamental, it has, in great part, repaid himself by
the many years of enjoyment it has afforded him. Still, he hopes, or,
rather, I do for him,--for, to speak candidly, sir, _he_ has neither
courage nor hardihood for these kind of transactions,--I hope, sir, that
you, desirous of uniting this farm to the large demesne, as I understand
to be the case, will not deem this an unfitting occasion to treat
liberally with one whose position is no longer what it once was. I must
take care, Mr. Cashel, that I say nothing which looks like solicitation
here; the confidence my friend has placed in me would be ill requited by
such an error.”
“Is there no means of securing Mr. Corrigan's residence here?” said
Cashel. “Can I not accommodate his wishes in some other way, and which
should not deprive me of a neighbor I prize so highly?”
“I fear not. The circumstances which induce him to go abroad are
imperative.”
“Would it not be better to reflect on this?” said Cashel. “I do not seek
to pry into concerns which are not mine, but I would earnestly ask if
some other arrangement be not possible?”
Tiernay shook his head dubiously.
“If this be so, then I can oppose no longer. It only remains for Mr.
Corrigan to put his own value on the property, and I accept it.”
“Nay, sir; this generosity will but raise new difficulties. You are
about to deal with a man as high-hearted as yourself, and with the
punctilious delicacy that a narrow fortune suggests, besides.”
“Do you, then, doctor, who know both of us, be arbitrator. Let it not
be a thing for parchments and lawyers' clerks; let it be an honorable
understanding between two gentlemen, and so, no more of it.”
“If the world were made up of men like yourself and my old friend,
this would be, doubtless, the readiest and the best solution of the
difficulty,” said Tiernay; “but what would be said if we consented to
such an arrangement? What would not be said? Ay, faith, there's not a
scandalous rumor that malice could forge would not be rife upon us.”
“And do you think such calumnies have any terror for _me?_” cried
Cashel.
“When you've lived to _my_ age, sir, you'll reason differently.”
“It shall be all as you wish, then,” said Cashel. “But stay!” cried he,
after a moment's thought; “there is a difficulty I had almost forgotten.
I must look that it may not interfere with our plans. When can I see you
again? Would it suit you to come and breakfast with me tomorrow? I 'll
have my man of business, and we 'll arrange everything.”
“Agreed, sir; I'll not fail. I like your promptitude. A favor is a
double benefit when speedily granted.”
“Now I shall ask one from you, doctor. If I can persuade my kind friends
here to visit us, will you too be of the party sometimes?”
“Not a bit of it. Why should I, sir, expose you to the insolent
criticism my unpolished manners and rude address would bring upon
you--or myself to the disdain that fashionable folk would show me? I
am proud--too proud, perhaps--at the confidence you would repose in
my honor; I don't wish to blush for my breeding by way of recompense.
There, sir,--there is one yonder in every way worthy all the distinction
rank and wealth can give her. I feel happy to think that she is to
move amongst those who, if they cannot prize her worth, will at least
appreciate her fascinations.”
“Will Mr. Corrigan consent?”
“He must,--he shall,” broke in Tiernay; “I'll insist upon it But come
along with me into the cottage, while the ladies are cementing their
acquaintance; we'll see him, and talk him over.”
So saying, he led Cashel into the little library, where, deep sunk in
his thoughts, the old man was seated, with an open book before him, but
of which he had not read a line.
“Con!” cried Tiernay, “Mr. Cashel has come to bring you and Miss Mary
up to the Hall to dinner. There, sir, look at the face he puts on,--an
excuse in every wrinkle of it!”
“But, my dear friend--my worthy doctor--you know perfectly---”
“I 'll know perfectly that you must go,--no help for it I have told Mr.
Cashel that you 'd make fifty apologies--pretend age--Ill-health--want
of habit, and so on; the valid reason being that you think his company a
set of raffs, and--”
“Oh, Tiernay, I beg you 'll not ascribe such sentiments to _me_.”
“Well, I thought so myself, t' other day,--ay, half-an-hour ago; but
there is a lady yonder, walking up and down the grass-plot, has made me
change my mind. Come out and see her, man, and then say as many 'No's'
as you please.” And, half-dragging, half-leading the old man out,
Tiernay went on:--
“You 'll see, Mr. Cashel, how polite he 'll grow when he sees the bright
eyes and the fair cheek. You 'll not hear of any more refusals then, I
promise you.”
Meanwhile, so far had Lady Kilgoff advanced in the favorable opinion
of Miss Leicester that the young girl was already eager to accept the
proffered invitation. Old Mr. Corrigan, however, could not be induced
to leave his home, and so it was arranged that Lady Kilgoff should drive
over on the following day to fetch her; with which understanding they
parted, each looking forward with pleasure to their next meeting.