Geld kann vieles in der Welt.
--Wiener Lied.
(Money can do much in this world.)
When Cashel descended the stairs to breakfast, he took a peep into the
drawing-room as he went, some slight hope of seeing Olivia, perhaps,
suggesting the step. He was disappointed, however; except a servant
arranging candies in the lustres, the room was empty. The same
fate awaited him in the breakfast-room, where a small table, most
significantly laid for two, showed that a _tête-à-tête_ with his host
was in store for him. No wonder, then, if Mr. Kennyfeck saw something of
impatience in the air of his young guest, whose eyes turned to the door
each time it opened, or were as hastily directed to the garden at each
stir without,--evident signs of thoughts directed in channels different
from the worthy solicitor's.
Confess, my dear reader,--if you be of the sex to judge of these
matters,--confess it is excessively provoking when you have prepared
your mind, sharpened your wit--perhaps, too, curled your whiskers--with
a latent hope that you are to meet and converse with two very handsome
and sprightly girls, that the interview is converted into a scene with
“Papa.” For ourselves, who acknowledge to have a kind of Catholicism in
these affairs, who like the dear creatures in all the flaunting dash of
a riding-hat and habit, cantering away of a breezy day, with laughing
voice and half-uncurled hair; who delight to see them lounging in
a britzska or lolling in a phaeton; who gaze with rapture on charms
heightened by the blaze of full-dress, and splendid in all the
brilliancy of jewels and flowers,--we own that we have a kind of
fondness, almost amounting to a preference, for the prim coquettishness
of a morning-dress--some light muslin thing, floating and gauzy--showing
the figure to perfection, and in its simplicity suiting well the two
braids of hair so innocently banded on the cheeks. There is something of
conscious power in the quiet garb, a sense of trustfulness; it is
like the warrior advancing without his weapons to a conference that is
exceedingly pleasing, seeming to say, You see that I am not a being of
tulle, and gauze, and point de Bruxelles, of white satin, and turquoise,
and pink camellias, but a creature whose duties may be in the daily
round of life, meant to sit beside on a grassy slope as much as on a
velvet ottoman, to talk with as well as flirt with.
We have no means of knowing if Cashel was of our mind, and whether
these demi-toilette visions were as suggestive to his as they are to our
imagination, but that he bore his disappointment with a very bad grace
we can perfectly answer for, and showed, by his distracted manner
and inattentive air, that the papa's companionship was a very poor
substitute for the daughters'.
It must be owned, too, that Mr. Kennyfeck was scarcely a brilliant
converser, nor, had he been so, was the matter under consideration of
a kind to develop and display his abilities. The worthy solicitor had
often promised himself the pleasure he now enjoyed of recounting the
whole story of the law proceedings. It was the great event of his
own life, “his Waterloo,” and he dwelt on every detail with a prosy
dalliance that was death to the listener. Legal subtleties, shrewd and
cunning devices of crafty counsellors, all the artful dodges of the
profession, Cashel heard with a scornful indifference or a downright
apathy, and it demanded all Mr. Kennyfeck's own enthusiasm in the case
to make him persist in a narrative so uninteresting to its only auditor.
“I fear I weary you, Mr. Cashel,” said the solicitor, “with these
details, but I really supposed that you must feel desirous of knowing
not only the exact circumstances of your estate, but of learning the
very singular history by which your claim was substantiated.”
“If I am to be frank,” said Cashel, boldly, “I must tell you that
these things possess not the slightest interest for me. When I was a
gambler--which, unfortunately, I was at one time--whether I won or lost,
I never could endure to discuss the game after it was over. So long as
there was a goal to reach, few men could feel more ardor in the pursuit.
I believe I have the passion for success as strong as my neighbors,
but the struggle over, the prize won, whether by myself or another it
mattered not, it ceased to have any hold upon me. I could address myself
to a new contest, but never look back on the old one.”
“So that,” said Kennyfeck, drawing a long breath to conceal a sigh, “I
am to conclude that this is a topic you would not desire to renew.
Well, I yield of course; only pray how am I to obtain your opinion on
questions concerning your property?”
“My opinions,” said Cashel, “must be mere arbitrary decisions, come to
without any knowledge; that you are well aware of. I know nothing of
this country,--neither its interests, its feelings, nor its tastes. I
know just as little of what wealth will do, and what it will not do.
Tell me, therefore, in a few words, what other men, situated as I am,
would pursue,--what habits they would adopt, how live, and with whom. If
I can conform, without any great sacrifice of personal freedom, I 'll do
so, because I know of no slavery so bad as notoriety. Just then give me
your counsel, and I ask, intending to follow it.”
Few men were less able than Mr. Kennyfeck to offer a valuable opinion on
these difficult subjects, but the daily routine of his professional life
had made him acquainted with a certain detail that seemed, to himself at
least, an undeviating rule of procedure. He knew that, to the heir of a
large estate coming of age, a wife and a seat in Parliament were the two
first objects. He had so often been engaged in drawing up settlements
for the one, and raising money for the other contingency, that they
became as associated in his mind with one-and-twenty years of age as
though intended by Nature to denote it.
With some reserve, which we must not scrutinize, he began with the
political object.
“I suppose, sir,” said he, “you will desire to enter Parliament?”
“I should like it,” said Cashel, earnestly, “if a sense of inferiority
would not weigh too heavily on me to compensate for the pleasure. With
an education so neglected as mine, I should run the hazard of either
unjustly depreciating my own judgment, or what is worse, esteeming it at
more than its worth. Now, though I suspect that the interest of politics
would have a great attraction for me, I should always occupy too
humble a station regarding them, to make that interest a high one. Omit
Parliament, then, and what next?”
“The duties of a country gentleman are various and important--the
management of your estates--”
“This I must leave in your hands,” said Cashel, abruptly. “Suggest
something else.”
“Well, of course, these come in a far less important category; but the
style of your living, the maintenance of a house befitting your rank
and property, the reception of your country neighbors,--all these are
duties.”
“I am very ignorant of forms,” said Cashel, haughtily; “but I opine that
if a man spare no money, with a good cook, a good cellar, a good stable,
and _carte blanche_ from the owner to make free with everything, these
duties are not very difficult to perform.”
Had Mr. Kennyfeck known more of such matters, he might have told him
that something was still wanting,--that something which can throw its
perfume of good-breeding and elegance over the humble dinner-party in a
cottage, and yet be absent from the gorgeous splendor of a banquet in
a palace. Mr. Kennyfeck did not know this, so he accorded his fullest
assent to Cashel's opinion.
“What comes next?” said Roland, impatiently, “for as I am neither
politician nor country gentleman, nor can I make a pursuit of mere
hospitality, I really do not see what career is open to me.”
Mr. Kennyfeck had been on the eve of introducing the topic of marriage,
when this sally suddenly routed the attempt. The man who saw nothing to
occupy him in politics, property, or social intercourse would scarcely
deem a wife an all-sufficient ambition. Mr. Kennyfeck was posed.
“I see, sir, your task is a hard one; it is no less than to try and
conform my savage tastes and habits to civilized usages,--a difficult
thing, I am certain; however, I promise compliance with any ritual for
a while. I have often been told that the possession of fortune in these
countries imposes more restraints in the shape of duties than does
poverty elsewhere. Let me try the problem for myself. Now, dictate, and
I obey.”
“After all,” said Mr. Kennyfeck, taking courage, “few men would deem it
a hard condition in which to find themselves master of above £16,000 a
year, to enter Parliament, to keep a good house, and marry--as every man
in your circumstances may--the person of his choice.”
“Oh! Is matrimony another article of the code?” said Cashel, smiling.
“Well, that is the greatest feature, because the others are things
to abandon, if not found to suit your temper or inclination--but a
wife--that does look somewhat more permanent. No matter, I'll adventure
all and everything--of course depending on your guidance for the path.”
Mr. Kennyfeck was too happy at these signs of confidence to neglect an
opportunity for strengthening the ties, and commenced a very prudent
harangue upon the necessity of Cashel's using great caution in his first
steps, and not committing himself by anything like political pledges,
till he had firmly decided which side to adopt. “As to society,” said
he, “of course you will select those who please you most for your
intimates; but in politics there are many considerations very different
from mere liking. Be only guarded, however, in the beginning, and you
risk nothing by waiting.”
“And as to the other count in the indictment,” said Cashel, interrupting
a rather prosy dissertation about political parties,--“as to the other
count--matrimony I mean. I conclude, as the world is so exceedingly kind
as to take a profound interest in all the sayings and doings of a man
with money, that perhaps it is not indifferent regarding so eventful
a step as his marriage. Now, pray, Mr. Kennyfeck, having entered
Parliament, kept open house, hunted, shot, raced, dined, gambled,
duelled, and the rest, to please society, how must I satisfy its
exigencies in this last particular? I mean, is there any particular
style of lady,--tall, short, brunette or fair, dark-eyed or
blue-eyed,--or what, in short, is the person I must marry if I would
avoid transgressing any of those formidable rules which seem to
regulate every action of your lives, and, if I may believe Mr. Phillis,
superintend the very color of your cravat and the shape of your hat?”
“Oh, believe me,” replied Mr. Kennyfeck with a bland persuasiveness,
“fashion is only exigeant in small matters; the really momentous affairs
of life are always at a man's own disposal. Whoever is fortunate enough
to be Mr. Cashel's choice, becomes, by the fact, as elevated above
envious criticisms as she will be above the sphere where they alone
prevail.”
“So far that is very flattering. Now for another point. There is an old
shipmate of mine--a young Spanish officer--who has lived rather a rakish
kind of life. I 'm not quite sure if he has not had a brush or two
with our flag, for he dealt a little in ebony--you understand--the
slave-trade, I mean. How would these fine gentlemen, I should like to
know, receive him? Would they look coldly and distantly at him? I should
naturally wish to see him at my house, but not that he might be offered
anything like slight or insult.”
“I should defer it, certainly. I would recommend you not pressing this
visit, till you have surrounded yourself with a certain set, a party by
whom you will be known and upheld.”
“So then, if I understand you aright, I must obtain a kind of security
for my social good conduct before the world will trust me? Now, this
does seem rather hard, particularly as no man is guilty till he has been
convicted.”
“The bail-bond is little else than a matter of form,” said Mr.
Kennyfeck, smiling, and glad to cap an allusion which his professional
pursuits made easy of comprehension.
“Well,” sighed Cashel, “I'm not quite certain that this same world of
yours and I shall be long friends, if even we begin as such. I have all
my life been somewhat of a rebel, except where authority was lax enough
to make resistance unnecessary. How am I to get on here, hemmed in and
fenced by a hundred restrictions?”
Mr. Kennyfeck could not explain to him that these barriers were less
restrictions against personal liberty than defences against aggression;
so he only murmured some commonplaces about “getting habituated,” and
“time,” and so on, and apologized for what he, in reality, might have
expatiated on as privileges.
“My mistress wishes to know, sir,” said a footman, at this juncture, “if
Mr. Cashel will drive out with her? the carriage is at the door.”
“Delighted!” cried Cashel, looking at the same time most uncourteously
pleased to get away from his tiresome companion.
Cashel found Mrs. Kennyfeck and her daughters seated in a handsome
barouche, whose appointments, bating, perhaps, some little exuberance
in display, were all perfect. The ladies, too, were most becomingly
attired, and the transition from the tittle cobwebbed den of the
solicitor to the free air and pleasant companionship, excited his
spirits to the utmost.
“How bored you must have been by that interview!” said Mrs. Kennyfeck,
as they drove away.
“Why do you say so?” said Cashel, smiling.
“You looked so weary, so thoroughly tired out, when you joined us. I'm
certain Mr. Kennyfeck has been reading aloud all the deeds and documents
of the trial, and reciting the hundred-and-one difficulties which his
surpassing acuteness, poor dear man! could alone overcome.”
“No, indeed you wrong him,” said Roland, with a laugh; “he scarcely
alluded to what he might have reasonably dwelt upon with pride, and what
demands all my gratitude. He was rather giving me, what I so much stand
in need of, a little lecture on my duties and devoirs as a possessor of
fortune; a code, I shame to confess, perfectly strange to me.”
A very significant glance from Mrs. Kennyfeck towards the girls
revealed the full measure of her contempt for the hardihood of poor Mr.
Kennyfeck's daring; but quickly assuming a smile, she said, “And are we
to be permitted to hear what these excellent counsels were, or are these
what the Admiralty calls 'secret instructions'?”
“Not in the least. Mr. Kennyfeck sees plainly enough--it is but too
palpable--that I am as ignorant of this new world as he himself would
be, if dropped down suddenly in an Indian encampment, and that as the
thing I detest most in this life is any unnecessary notoriety, I want to
do as far as in me lies, like my neighbors. I own to you that the little
sketch with which he favored me is not too fascinating, but he assures
me that with time and patience and zeal I'll get over my difficulties,
and make a very tolerable country gentleman.”
“But, my _dear_ Mr. Cashel,” said Mrs. Kennyfeck, with a great emphasis
on the epithet, “why do you think of listening to Mr. Kennyfeck on such
a subject? Poor man, he takes all his notions of men and manners from
the Exchequer and Common Pleas.”
“Papa's models are all in horse-hair wigs,--fat mummies in ermine!” said
Miss Kennyfeck.
“When Mr. Cashel knows Lord Charles,” said Olivia.
“Or Mr. Linton--”
“Or the Dean,” broke in Mrs. Kennyfeck; “for although a Churchman, his
information on every subject is boundless.”
Miss Kennyfeck gave a sly look towards Cashel, which very probably
entered a dissent to her mamma's opinion.
“If I were you,” resumed she, tenderly, “I know what I should do; coolly
rejecting all their counsels, I should fashion my life as it pleased
myself to live, well assured that in following my bent I should find
plenty of people only too happy to lend me their companionship. Just
reflect, for a moment, how very agreeable you can make your house,
without in the least compromising any taste or inclination of your own;
without, in fact, occupying your mind on the subject.”
“But the world,” remarked Mrs. Kennyfeck, “must be cared for! It would
not do for one in Mr. Cashel's station to form his associates only among
those whose agreeability is their recommendation.”
“Then let him know the Dean, mamma,” said Miss Kennyfeck, slyly.
“Yes, my dear,” rejoined Mrs. Kennyfeck, not detecting the sarcasm, “I
cannot fancy one more capable of affording judicious counsel. You spoke
about ordering plate, Mr. Cashel; but of course you will apply to Storr
and Mortimer. Everything is so much better in London; otherwise, here we
are at Leonard's.”
The carriage drove up, as she spoke, to the door of a very
splendid-looking shop, where in all the attractive display modern taste
has invented, plate and jewellery glittered and dazzled.
“It was part of Mr. Kennyfeck's counsel this morning,” said Cashel,
“that I should purchase anything I want in Ireland, so far, at least, as
practicable; so, if you will aid me in choosing, we 'll take the present
opportunity.”
Mrs. Kennyfeck was overjoyed at the bare mention of such an occasion of
display, and sailed into the shop with an air that spoke plain as words
themselves, “I'm come to make your fortune.” So palpable, indeed, was
the manner of her approach, that the shopman hastily retired to seek
the proprietor of the establishment,--a little pompous man, with a bald
head,--who, having a great number of “bad debts” among his high
clients, had taken to treating great folk with a very cool assumption of
equality.
“Mr. Cashel is come to look about some plate, Mr. Leonard. Let us see
your book of drawings; and have you those models you made for Lord
Kellorane?”
“We have better, ma'am,” said Leonard. “We have the plate itself. If you
will step upstairs. It is all laid out on the tables. The fact is”--here
he dropped his voice--“his lordship's marriage with Miss Fenchurch is
broken off, and he will not want the plate, and we have his orders to
sell it at once.”
“And is that beautiful pony-phaeton, with the two black Arabians, to
be sold?” asked Miss Kennyfeck, eagerly. “He only drove them once, I
think.”
“Yes, madam, everything: they are all to be auctioned at Dycer's
to-day.”
“At what hour?” inquired Cashel.
“At three, precisely, sir.”
“Then it wants but five minutes of the time,” said Cashel, looking at
his watch.
“But the plate, sir? Such an opportunity may never occur again,” broke
in Leonard, fearful of seeing his customer depart unprofitably.
“Oh, to be sure. Let us see it,” said Cashel, as he handed Mrs.
Kennyfeck upstairs.
An exclamation of surprise and delight burst from the party at the
magnificent display which greeted them on entering the room. How
splendid--what taste--how very beautiful--so elegant--so massive--so
chaste! and fifty other encomiastic phrases.
“Very fine, indeed, ma'am,” chimed in Leonard; “cost fifteen and
seven-pence the ounce throughout, and now to be sold for thirteen
shillings.”
“What is the price?” said Cashel, in a low whisper.
“There are, if I remember right, sir, but I 'll ascertain in a moment,
eight thousand ounces.”
“I want to know the sum in one word,” rejoined Cashel, hastily.
“It will be something like three thousand seven hundred and--”
“Well, say three thousand seven hundred, it is mine.”
“These ice-pails are not included, sir.”
“Well, send them also, and let me know the price. How handsome that
brooch is! Let me see it on your velvet dress, Mrs. Kennyfeck. Yes, that
really looks well. Pray let it remain there.”
“Oh, I could not think of such a thing! It is far too costly. It is the
most splendid--”
“You 'll not refuse me, I hope, a first request, madam,” said he, with a
half-offended air.
Mrs. Kennyfeck, really overwhelmed by the splendor of the gift, complied
with a reluctant shame.
“These are the diamonds that were ordered for the bride,” said Leonard,
opening a jewel-casket, and exhibiting a most magnificent suite.
“Oh, how sorry she must be!” cried Miss Kennyfeck, as she surveyed the
glittering mass.
“If she loved him,” murmured Olivia, in a low whisper, as if to
herself, but overheard by Cashel, who kept his eyes towards her with an
expression of deep interest.
“If the gentleman stood in need of such a set,” said Leonard, “I am
empowered to dispose of them at the actual cost. It is old Mr. Fenchurch
who suffers all the loss, and he can very well afford it. As a wedding
present, sir--”
“But I am not going to be married, that I know of,” said Cashel,
smiling.
“Perhaps not this week, sir, or the next,” rejoined the self-sufficient
jeweller; “but, of course, that time will come. Two thousand pounds for
such a suite is positively getting them a present, to break them up and
reset them.”
“How shocking!” cried Miss Kennyfeck.
“Yes, madam; but what is to be done? They only suit large fortunes in
their present form; these, unfortunately, are very rare with us.”
“A quarter past three!” exclaimed Cashel; “we shall be too late.”
“And the diamonds, sir?” said Leonard, following him downstairs.
“Do _you_ think them so handsome?” said Cashel to Olivia, as she walked
at his side.
“Oh, they are most beautiful,” replied she, with a bashful falling of
her eyelids.
“I 'll take them also,” whispered Cashel to Leonard, who, for perhaps
the only time for years past, accompanied the party, bareheaded, to
their carriage, and continued bowing till they drove away.
“Dycer's,” said Mrs. Kennyfeck; “and as fast as you can.”
With all their speed they came too late. The beautiful equipage had been
already disposed of, and was driving from the gate as they drew up.
“How provoking!--how terribly provoking!” exclaimed Mrs. Kennyfeck.
“I declare, I think them handsomer than ever,” said Miss Kennyfeck, as
she surveyed the two well-matched and highly-bred ponies.
“Who bought them?” asked Mrs. Kennyfeck.
“I am the fortunate individual, or rather the unhappy one, who excites
such warm regrets,” said Mr Linton, as he lounged on the door of the
carriage. “I would I were Rothschild, or his son, or his godson, to beg
your acceptance of them.”
“What did you give for them, Mr. Linton?” asked Mrs. Kennyfeck.
“How unfair to ask; and you, too, who understand these things so well.”
“I want to purchase them,” said she, laughing; “that was my reason.”
“To you, then, the price is what I have just paid,--a hundred and
fifty.”
“How cheap!”
“Absolutely for nothing. I bought them on no other account. I really do
not want such an equipage.”
“To be serious, then,” resumed Mrs. Kennyfeck, “we came here with Mr.
Cashel to purchase them, and just arrived a few minutes too late.”
“Quite early enough to allow of my being able to render you a slight
service; without, however, the satisfaction of its having demanded any
effort from me. Will you present me to Mr. Cashel?” The gentlemen bowed
and smiled, and Linton resumed: “If you care for the ponies, Mr. Cashel,
I am delighted to say they are at your service. I really bought them, as
I say, because they were going for nothing.” Cashel did not know how to
return the generosity, but accepted the offer, trusting that time would
open an occasion to repay the favor.
“Shall I send them home to you, or will you drive them?”
“Will you venture to accompany me?” said Cashel, turning to Olivia
Kennyfeck; who, seeing at once the impropriety of a proposal which
Roland's ignorance of the world alone could have committed, was silent
and confused.
“Are you afraid, my dear?” inquired Mrs. Kennyfeck, to show that all
other objections might be waived.
“Oh no, mamma, if you are not.”
“The ponies are perfectly quiet,” said Linton.
“I 'm certain nothing will happen,” said Miss Kennyfeck, with a most
significant glance at her sister.
“Take care of her, Mr. Cashel,” said the mamma, as Roland handed the
blushing girl to her place. “I have never trusted her in any one's
charge before; and if I had not such implicit confidence--” Before the
sentence was finished, the ponies sprang forward in a trot, the equipage
in a moment fled and disappeared from view.
“A fine young fellow he seems to be,” said Linton, as he raised his hat
in adieu; “and so frank, too!” There was a something in his smile that
looked too intelligent, but Mrs. Kennyfeck affected not to notice it, as
she said “Good-bye.”