A CHAPTER OF EXPLANATIONS.
Laura's long talk with me resulted in these facts. They cleared up her
story.
She was the only daughter of Mr. Grey, of Halston Manor, of whom I had
often heard. He had died in possession of a great estate, and of shares
in the Great Central Bank worth two hundred thousand pounds. Within a
few weeks after his death the bank failed, and the estate was drawn into
the ruin. Of her brother there is no need to speak, for he died only a
year after, and has no connection with my story.
Laura Grey would have been a suitable, and even a princely match for a
man of rank and fortune, had it not been for this sudden and total
reverse. Old Lord Rillingdon--Viscount Rillingdon, his son, had won his
own position in the peerage by brilliant service--had wished to marry
his son to the young lady. No formal overtures had been made; but Lord
Rillingdon's house, Northcot Hall, was near, and the young people were
permitted to improve their acquaintance into intimacy, and so an
unavowed attachment was formed. The crash came, and Lord Rillingdon
withdrew his son, Mr. Jennings, from the perilous neighbourhood.
A year elapsed before the exact state of Mr. Grey's affairs was
ascertained. During that time Richard Marston, who had seen and admired
Laura Grey, whose brother was an intimate friend of his, came to the
neighbourhood and endeavoured to insinuate himself into her good graces.
He had soon learned her ruined circumstances, and founded the cruellest
hopes upon this melancholy knowledge.
To forward his plans he had conveyed scandalous falsehoods to Mr.
Jennings, with the object of putting an end to his rivalry. These Mr.
Jennings had refused to believe; but there were others no less
calculated to excite his jealousy, and to alienate his affection. He had
shown the effect of this latter influence by a momentary coldness, which
roused Laura Grey's fiery spirit; for gentle as she was, she was proud.
She had written to tell Mr. Jennings that all was over between them, and
that she would never see him more. He had replied in a letter which did
not reach her till long after, in terms the most passionate and
agonising, vowing that he held himself affianced to her while he lived,
and would never marry any one but her.
In this state of things Miss Grey had come to us, resolved to support
herself by her own exertions.
Lord Rillingdon, having reason to suspect his son's continued attachment
to Laura Grey, and having learned accidentally that there was a lady of
that name residing at Malory, made a visit to Cardyllion. He was the old
gentleman in the chocolate-coloured coat, who had met us as we returned
from church, and held a conversation with her, under the trees, on the
mill-road.
His object was to exact a promise that she would hold no communication
with his son for the future. His tone was insolent, dictatorial, and in
the highest degree irritating. She repelled his insinuations with
spirit, and peremptorily refused to make any reply whatever to demands
urged in a temper so arrogant and insulting.
The result was that he parted from her highly incensed, and without
having carried his point, leaving my dear sister and me in a fever of
curiosity.
Richard Rokestone Marston was the only near relation of Sir Harry
Rokestone. He had fallen under the baronet's just and high displeasure.
After a course of wild and wicked extravagance, he had finally ruined
himself in the opinion of Sir Harry by committing a fraud, which,
indeed, would never have come to light had it not been for a combination
of unlucky chances.
In consequence of this his uncle refused to see him; but at Mr. Blount's
intercession agreed to allow him a small annual sum, on the strict
condition that he was to leave England. It was when actually on his way
to London, which, for reason that, except in its result, has no
connection with my story, he chose to reach through Bristol, that he had
so nearly lost his life in the disaster of the Conway Castle.
Here was the first contact of my story with his.
His short stay at Malory was signalised by his then unaccountable suit
to me, and by his collision with Mr. Jennings, who had come down there
on some very vague information that Laura Grey was in the neighbourhood.
He had succeeded in meeting her, and in renewing their engagement, and
at last had persuaded her to consent to a secret marriage, which at
first involved the anguish of a long separation, during which a
dangerous illness threatened the life of her husband.
I am hurrying through this explanation, but I must relate a few more
events and circumstances which throw a light upon some of the passages
in the history I have been giving you of my life.
Why did Richard Marston conceive, in perfect good faith, a fixed purpose
to marry a girl of whom he knew enough to be aware that she was without
that which prudence would have insisted on as a first necessity in his
circumstances--money.
Well, it turned out to have been by no means so imprudent a plan. I
learned from Mr. Blount the particulars that explained it.
Mr. Blount, who took an interest in him, and had always cherished a
belief that he was reclaimable, told him repeatedly that Sir Harry had
often said that he would take one of Mabel Ware's daughters for his
heiress. This threat he had secretly laughed at, knowing the hostility
that subsisted between the families. He was, however, startled at last.
Mr. Blount had shown him a letter in which Sir Harry distinctly stated
that he had made up his mind to leave everything he possessed to me.
This he showed him for the purpose of inducing a patient endeavour to
regain his lost place in the old man's regard. It effectually alarmed
Richard Marston; and when a chance storm threw him at our door, the idea
of averting that urgent danger, and restoring himself to his lost
position, by an act of masterly strategy, occurred to him, and instantly
bore fruit in action.
After his return, and his admission as an inmate at Dorracleugh, the
danger appeared still more urgent, and his opportunities were endless.
He had succeeded, as I have told you, in binding me by an engagement. In
that position he was safe, no matter what turned up. He had, however,
now made his election; and how cruelly, you already know. Did he,
according to his low standard, love me? I believe, so far as was
consistent with his nature, he did. He was furious at my having escaped
him, and would have pursued, and no doubt discovered me, had he been
free at the moment to leave Dorracleugh.
His alleged marriage was, I believe, a fiction. But he could not bear, I
think, to lose me; and had he obtained another interview, he would have
held very different language. Mr. Blount thought that he had, perhaps,
formed some scheme for a marriage of ambition, in favour of which I was
to have been put aside. If so, however, I do not think that he would
have purchased the enjoyment of such ambition at the price of losing me
at once and for ever. I dare say you will laugh at the simplicity of
this vanity in a woman who, in a case like this, could suppose such a
thing. I do suppose it, notwithstanding. I am sure that, so far as his
nature was capable of love, he did love me. With the sad evidences on
which this faith was grounded, I will not weary you. Let those vain
conclusions rest where they are, deep in my heart.
The important post which Lord Rillingdon had filled, in one of our
greatest dependencies, and the skill, courage, and wisdom with which he
had directed affairs during a very critical period, had opened a way for
him to still higher things. He and Laura were going out in about six
months to India, and she and he insisted that I should accompany them as
their guest. This would have been too delightful under happier
circumstances; but the sense of dependence, however disguised, is
dreadful. We are so constructed that for an average mind it is more
painful to share in idle dependence the stalled ox of a friend than to
work for one's own dinner of herbs.
They were going to Brighton, and I consented to make them a visit there
of three or four weeks; after which I was to resume my search for a
"situation." Laura entreated me at least to accept the care of her
little child; but this, too, I resolutely declined. At first sight you
will charge me with folly; but if you, being of my sex, will place
yourself for a moment in my situation, you will understand why I
refused. I felt that I should have been worse than useless. Laura would
never have ordered me about as a good mother would like to order the
person in charge of her only child. She would have been embarrassed and
unhappy, and I conscious of being in the way.
Two other circumstances need explanation. Laura told me, long after,
that she had received a farewell letter from Mr. Carmel, who told her
that he had written to warn me, but with much precaution, as Sir Harry
had a strong antipathy to persons of his profession, of a danger which
he was not then permitted to define. Monsieur Droqville, whom Mr.
Marston had courted, and sought to draw into relations with him, had
received a letter from that young man, stating that he had made up his
mind to leave America by the next ship, and establish himself once more
at Dorracleugh. It was Mr. Carmel, then, who had written the note that
puzzled me so much, and conveyed it, by another hand, to the post-office
of Cardyllion.
Monsieur Droqville had no confidence in Richard Marston. He had been
informed, besides, of the exact nature of Sir Harry's will, and of a
provision that made his bequest to me void, in case I should embrace the
Roman Catholic faith.
It was in consequence of that provision in the draft-will of Sir Harry
Rokestone, and from a consideration of the impolicy of any action while
Lady Lorrimer's death was so recent, and my indignation so hot, that
Droqville had resolved that, for a time, at least, the attempt to gain
me to the Church of Rome should not be renewed.
Taking the clear, hard view they do of the office of the Church upon
earth, they are right to discriminate. In the sight of Heaven, the
souls of Dives and of Lazarus are equally precious. In electing which to
convert, then, they discharge but a simple duty in choosing that
proselyte who will most strengthen the influence and action of the
Church upon earth. In that respect, considering the theories they hold,
they do right. Common sense acquits them.
I have now ended my necessary chapter of explanation, and my story goes
on its way.