WESTERN TIDINGS.
O lady! worthy of earth's proudest throne!
Nor less, by excellence of nature, fit
Beside an unambitious hearth to sit
Domestic queen, where grandeur is unknown--
Queen and handmaid lowly.
WORDSWORTH.
A house in the Terrace was let, and the rent was welcome; and shortly
after, Clara had an affectionate letter from her old school-enemy, Miss
Salter, begging her to come as governess to her little brother,
promising that she should be treated like one of the family, and
offering a large salary.
Clara was much afraid that it was her duty to accept the proposal,
since her uncle seemed very fairly contented, and was growing very fond
of 'Roland,' and the payment would be so great an assistance, but James
and Isabel were strongly averse to it; and her conscience was satisfied
by Miss Mercy Faithfull's discovery of a family at the Baths in search
of a daily governess.
Miss Frost was not a person to be rejected, and in another week she
found herself setting out to breakfast with a girl and three boys,
infusing Latin, French, and geography all the forenoon, dining with
them, sometimes walking with them, and then returning to the merry
evening of Dynevor Terrace.
Mr. Dynevor endured the step pretty well. She had ascendancy enough
over him always to take her own way, and he was still buoyed up by the
hope of recovering enough to rectify his affairs in Peru. He was
better, though his right side remained paralysed, and Mr. Walby saw
little chance of restoration. Rising late, and breakfasting slowly,
the newspaper and visits from James wiled away the morning. He
preferred taking his meals alone; and after dinner was wheeled out in a
chair on fine days. Clara came to him as soon as her day's work was
over; and, when he was well enough to bear it, the whole party were
with him from the children's bedtime till his own. Altogether, the
invalid-life passed off pretty well. He did not dislike the children,
and Kitty liked anything that needed to be waited on. He took Clara's
services as a right, but was a little afraid of 'Mrs. Dynevor,' and
highly flattered by any attention from her; and with James his moods
were exceedingly variable, and often very trying, but, in general, very
well endured.
Peruvian mails were anticipated in the family with a feeling most akin
to dread. The notice of a vessel coming in was the signal for
growlings at everything, from the post-office down to his dinner; and
the arrival of letters made things only worse. As Clara said, the
galleons were taken by the pirates; the Equatorial Company seemed to be
doing the work of Caleb Balderston's thunderstorm, and to be bearing
the blame of a deficit such as Oliver could not charge on it. The whole
statement was backed by Mr. Ponsonby, whose short notes spoke of
indisposition making him more indebted than ever to the exertions of
Robson. This last was gone to Guayaquil to attempt to clear up the
accounts of the Equatorial Company, leaving the office at Lima in the
charge of Madison and the new clerk, Ford; and Mr. Dynevor was promised
something decisive and satisfactory on his return. Of Mary there was
no mention, except what might be inferred in a postscript:--'Ward is
expected in a few weeks.'
Mr. Dynevor was obliged to resign himself; and so exceedingly fractious
was he, that Clara had been feeling quite dispirited, when her brother
called her to tell her joyously that Lord Ormersfield and Louis were
coming home, and would call in on their way the next evening. Those
wretched children must not take her for a walk.
Nevertheless, the wretched children did want to walk, and Clara could
not get home till half-an-hour after she knew the train must have come
in; and she found the visitors in her uncle's room. Louis came forward
to the door to meet her, and shook her hand with all his heart, saying,
under his breath,
'I congratulate you!'
'Thank you!' she said, in the same hearty tone.
'And now, look at him! look at my father! Have not we made a good
piece of work of keeping him abroad all the winter? Does not he look
as well as ever he did in his life?'
This was rather strong, for Lord Ormersfield was somewhat grey, and a
little bent; but he had resumed all his look of health and vigour, and
was a great contrast to his younger, but far older-looking cousin. He
welcomed Clara with his tone of courteous respect, and smiled at his
son's exultation, saying, Fitzjocelyn deserved all the credit, for he
himself had never thought to be so patched up again, and poor Oliver
was evidently deriving as much encouragement as if rheumatism had been
paralysis.
'I must look in at the House Beautiful,' said Louis, presently. 'Clara,
I can't lose your company. Won't you come with me?'
Of course she came; and she divined why, instead of at once entering
the next house, he took a turn along the Terrace, and, after a pause,
asked, 'Clara, when did you last hear from Lima?'
'Not for a long time. I suppose she is taken up by her father's
illness.'
He paused, collected himself, and asked again, 'Have you heard nothing
from your uncle?'
'Yes,' said Clara, sadly, 'but Louis,' she added, with a lively tone,
'what does not come from herself, I would not believe.'
'I do not.'
'That's right, don't be vexed when it may be nothing.'
'No; if she had found any one more worthy of her, she would not
hesitate in making me aware of it. I ought to be satisfied, if she
does what is best for her own happiness. Miss Ponsonby believes that
this is a man of sterling worth, probably suiting her better than I
might have done. She was a good deal driven on by circumstances
before, and, perhaps, it was all a mistake on her side.' And he tried
to smile.
Clara exclaimed that 'Mary could not have been all he had believed,
if--'
'No,' he said, 'she is all, and more than all. I comprehend her better
now, and could have shown her that I do. She has been the blessing of
my life so far, and her influence always will be so. I shall always be
grateful to her, be the rest as it may, and I mean to live on hope to
the last. Now for the good old ladies. Really, Clara, the old Dynevor
Terrace atmosphere has come back, and there seems to be the same sort
of rest and cheering in coming into these old iron gates! After all,
Isabel is growing almost worthy to be called Mrs. Frost.' And in this
manner he talked on, up to the very door of the House Beautiful, as if
to cheat himself out of despondency.
'That was a very pretty meeting,' said Isabel to her husband, when no
witness was present but little Fanny.
'What, between his lordship and my uncle?'
'You know better.'
'My dear, your mother once tried match-making for Fitzjocelyn. Be
warned by her example.'
'I am doing no such thing. I am only observing what every one sees.'
'Don't be so common-place.'
'That's all disdain--you must condescend. I have been hearing from Mr.
Dynevor of the excellent offers that Clara refused.'
'Do you think Uncle Oliver and Clara agree as to excellence?'
'Still,' continued Isabel, 'considering how uncomfortable she was, it
does not seem improbable that she would have married, unless some
attachment had steeled her heart and raised her standard. I know she
was unconscious, but it was Fitzjocelyn who formed her.'
'He has been a better brother to her than I have been; but look only at
their perfect ease.'
'Now it is my belief that they were made for each other, and can
venture to find it out, since she is no longer an heiress, and he is
free from his Peruvian entanglement.'
'Fanny, do you hear what a scheming mamma you have? I hope she will
have used it all upon Sir Hubert before you come out as the beauty of
the Terrace!'
'Well, I mean to sound Clara.'
'You had better leave it alone.'
'Do you forbid me?'
'Why, no, for I don't think you have the face to say anything that
would distress her, or disturb the friendship which has been her
greatest benefit.'
'Thank you. All I intend is, that if it should be as I suppose, the
poor things should not miss coming to an understanding for want--'
'Of a Christmas-tree,' said James, laughing. 'You may have your own
way. I have too much confidence in your discretion and in theirs to
imagine that you will produce the least effect.'
Isabel's imagination was busily at work, and she was in haste to make
use of her husband's permission; but it was so difficult to see Clara
alone, that some days passed before the two sisters were left together
in the sitting-room, while James was writing a letter for his uncle.
Isabel's courage began to waver, but she ventured a commencement.
'Mr. Dynevor entertains me with fine stories of your conquests, Clara.'
Clara laughed, blushed, and answered bluntly, 'What a bother it was!'
'You are very hard-hearted.'
'You ought to remember the troubles of young ladyhood enough not to
wonder.'
'I never let things run to that length; but then I had no fortune. But
seriously, Clara, were all these people objectionable?'
'Do you think one could marry any man, only because he was not
objectionable? There was no harm in one or two; but I was not going to
have anything to say to them.'
'Really, Clara, you make me curious. Had you made any resolution?'
'I know only two men whom I could have trusted to fulfil my
conditions,' said Clara.
'Conditions?'
'Of course! that if Cheveleigh was to belong to any of us, it should be
to the rightful heir.'
'My dear, noble Clara! was that what kept you from thinking of
marriage?'
'Wasn't it a fine thing to have such a test? Not that I ever came to
trying it. Simple no answered my purpose. I met no one who tempted me
to make the experiment.'
'Two men!' said Isabel, 'if you had said one, it would have been
marked.'
'Jem and Louis, of course,' said Clara.
'Oh! that is as good as saying one.'
'As good as saying none,' said Clara, with emphasis.
'There may be different opinions on that point,' returned Isabel, not
daring to lift her eyes from her work, though longing to study Clara's
face, and feeling herself crimsoning.
'Extremely unfounded opinions, and rather--'
'Rather what?'
'Impertinent, I was going to say, begging your pardon, dear Isabel.'
'Nay, I think it is I who should beg yours, Clara.'
'No, no,' said Clara, laughing, but speaking gravely immediately after,
'lookers-on do not always see most of the game. I have always known
his mind so well that I could never possibly have fallen into any such
nonsense. I respect him far too much.'
Isabel felt as if she must hazard a few words more--'Can you guess what
he will do if Mr. Ponsonby's reports prove true?'
'I do not mean to anticipate misfortunes,' said Clara.
Isabel could say no more; and when Clara next spoke, it was to ask for
another of James's wristbands to stitch. Then Isabel ventured to peep
at her face, and saw it quite calm, and not at all rosy; if it had
been, the colour was gone.
Thus it was, and there are happily many such friendships existing as
that between Louis and Clara. Many a woman has seen the man whom she
might have married, and yet has not been made miserable. If there be
neither vanity nor weak self-contemplation on her side, nor trifling on
his part, nor unwise suggestions forced on her by spectators, the
honest, genuine affection need never become passion. If intimacy is
sometimes dangerous, it is because vanity, folly, and mistakes are too
frequent; but in spite of all these, where women are truly refined, and
exalted into companions and friends, there has been much more happy,
frank intercourse and real friendship than either the romantic or the
sagacious would readily allow. The spark is never lighted, there is no
consciousness, no repining, and all is well.
Fresh despatches from Lima arrived; and after a day, when Oliver had
been so busy overlooking the statement from Guayaquil that he would not
even take his usual airing, he received Clara with orders to write and
secure his passage by the next packet for Callao.
'Dear uncle, you would never dream of it! You could not bear the
journey!' she cried, aghast.
'It would do me good. Do not try to cross me, Clara. No one else can
deal with this pack of rascals. Your brother has not been bred to it,
and is a parson besides, and there's not a soul that I can trust. I'll
go. What! d'ye think I can live on him and on you, when there is a
competence of my own out there, embezzled among those ragamuffins?'
'I am sure we had much rather--'
'No stuff and nonsense. Here is Roland with four children
already--very likely to have a dozen more. If you and he are fools,
I'm not, and I won't take the bread out of their mouths. I'll leave my
will behind, bequeathing whatever I may get out of the fire evenly
between you two, as the only way to content you; and if I never turn up
again, why you're rid of the old man.'
'Very well, uncle, I shall take my own passage at the same time.'
'You don't know what you are talking of. You are a silly child, and
your brother would be a worse if he let you go.'
'If Jem lets you go, he will let me. He shall let me. Don't you know
that you are never to have me off your hands, uncle? No, no, I shall
stick to you like a burr. You may go up to the tip-top of Chimborazo
if you please, but you'll not shake me off.'
It was her fixed purpose to accompany him, and she was not solicitous
to dissuade him from going, for she could be avaricious for James's
children, and had a decided wish for justice on the guilty party; and,
besides, Clara had a private vision of her own, which made her dance in
her little room. Mary had written in her father's stead--there was not
a word of Mr. Ward--indeed, Mr. Ponsonby was evidently so ill that his
daughter could think of nothing else. Might not Clara come in time to
clear up any misunderstanding--convince Mr. Ponsonby--describe Louis's
single-hearted constancy during all these five years, and bring Mary
home to him in triumph? She could have laughed aloud with delight at
the possibility; and when the other alternative occurred to her, she
knit her brows with childish vehemence, as she promised Miss Mary that
she would never be her bridesmaid.
Presently she heard Fitzjocelyn's voice in the parlour, and, going
down, found him in consultation over a letter which Charlotte had
brought to her master. It was so well written and expressed, that
Louis turned to the signature before he could quite believe that it was
from his old pupil. Tom wrote to communicate his perplexity at the
detection of the frauds practised on his employers. He had lately been
employed in the office at Lima, where much had excited his suspicion;
and, finally, from having 'opened a letter addressed by mistake to the
firm, but destined for an individual, he had discovered that large
sums, supposed to be required by the works, or lost in the Equatorial
failure, had been, in fact, invested in America in the name of that
party.' The secret was a grievous burthen. Mr. Ponsonby was far too
ill to be informed; besides that, he should only bring suspicion on
himself; and Miss Ponsonby was so much occupied as to be almost equally
inaccessible. Tom had likewise reason to believe that his own
movements were watched, and that any attempt to communicate with her or
her father would be baffled; and, above all, he could not endure
himself to act the spy and informer. He only wished that, if possible,
without mentioning names, Charlotte could give a hint that Mr. Dynevor
must not implicitly trust to all he heard.
James was inclined to suppress such vague information, which he thought
would only render his uncle more restless and wretched in his
helplessness, and was only questioning whether secrecy would not amount
to deceit.
'The obvious thing is for me to go to Peru,' said Louis.
'My uncle and I were intending to go,' said Clara.
'How many more of you?' exclaimed James.
'I would not change my native land
For rich Peru and all her gold;'
chanted little Kitty from the corner, where she was building houses for
the 'little ones.'
'Extremely to the purpose,' said Louis, laughing. 'Follow her example,
Clara. Make your uncle appoint me his plenipotentiary, and I will try
what I can to find out what these rogues are about.'
'Are you in earnest?'
'Never more so in my life.'
James beckoned him to the window, and showed him a sentence where Tom
said that the best chance for the firm was in Miss Ponsonby's marriage
with Mr. Ward, but that engagement was not yet declared on account of
her father's illness.
'The very reason,' said Louis, 'I cannot go on in this way. I must
know the truth.'
'And your father?'
'It would be much better for him that the thing were settled. He will
miss me less during the session, when he is in London with all his old
friends about him. It would not take long, going by the Isthmus. I'll
ride back at once, and see how he bears the notion. Say nothing to Mr.
Dynevor till you hear from me; but I think he will consent. He will
not endure that she should be left unprotected; her father perhaps
dying, left to the mercy of these rascals.'
'And forgive me, Louis, if you found her not needing you!'
'If she be happy, I should honour the man who made her so. At least, I
might be of use to you. I should see after poor Madison. I have sent
him to the buccaneers indeed! Good-bye! I cannot rest till I see how
my father takes it!'
It was long since Louis had been under an excess of impetuosity; but he
rode home as fast as he had ridden to Northwold to canvass for James,
and had not long been at Ormersfield before his proposition was laid
before his father.
It was no small thing to ask of the Earl, necessary as his son had
become to him; and the project at first appeared to him senseless. He
thought Mary had not shown herself sufficiently sensible of his son's
merits to deserve so much trouble; and if she were engaged to Mr. Ward,
Fitzjocelyn would find himself in an unpleasant and undignified
position. Besides, there was the ensuing session of Parliament! No!
Oliver must send out some trustworthy man of business, with full powers.
Louis only answered, that of course it depended entirely on his
father's consent; and by-and-by his submission began to work. Lord
Ormersfield could not refuse him anything, and took care, on parting
for the night, to observe that the point was not settled, only under
consideration.
And consideration was more favourable than might have been expected.
The Earl was growing anxious to see his son married, and of that there
was no hope till his mind should be settled with regard to Mary. It
would be more for his peace to extinguish the hope, if it were never to
be fulfilled. Moreover, the image of Mary had awakened the Earl's own
fatherly fondness for her, and his desire to rescue her from her
wretched home. Even Mr. Ponsonby could hardly withstand Louis in
person, he thought, and must be touched by so many years of constancy.
The rest might be only a misunderstanding which would be cleared up by
a personal interview. Added to this, Lord Ormersfield knew that Clara
would not let her uncle go alone, and did not think it fit to see her
go out alone with an infirm paralytic; James could not leave his wife
or his chaplaincy, and the affair was unsuited to his profession; a
mere accountant would not carry sufficient authority, nor gain
Madison's confidence; in fact, Fitzjocelyn, and no other, was the
trustworthy man of business; and so his lordship allowed when Louis
ventured to recur to the subject the next morning, and urge some of his
arguments.
The bright clearing of Louis's face spoke his thanks, and he began at
once to detail his plans for his father's comfort, Lord Ormersfield
listening as if pleased by his solicitude, though caring for little
until the light of his eyes should return.
'The next point is that you should give me a testimonial that I _am_ a
trustworthy man of business.'
'I will ride into Northwold with you, and talk it over with Oliver.'
Here lay the knotty point; but the last five years had considerably
cultivated Fitzjocelyn's natural aptitude for figures, by his attention
to statistics, his own farming-books, and the complicated accounts of
the Ormersfield estate,--so that both his father and Richardson could
testify to his being an excellent man of business; and his coolness,
and mildness of temper, made him better calculated to deal with a rogue
than a more hasty man would have been.
They found, on arriving, that James had been talking to Mr. Walby, who
pronounced that the expedition to Lima would be mere madness for Mr.
Dynevor, since application to business would assuredly cause another
attack, and even the calculations of the previous day had made him very
unwell, and so petulant and snappish, that he could be pleased with
nothing, and treated as mere insult the proposal that he should entrust
his affairs to 'such a lad.'
Even James hesitated to influence him to accept the offer. 'I
scruple,' he said, drawing the Earl aside, 'because I thought you had a
particular objection to Fitzjocelyn's being thrown in the way of
speculations. I thought you dreaded the fascination.'
'Thank you, James; I once did so,' said the Earl. 'I used to believe
it a family mania; I only kept it down in myself by strong resolution,
in the very sight of the consequences, but I can trust Fitzjocelyn. He
is too indifferent to everything apart from duty to be caught by
flattering projects, and you may fully confide in his right judgment.
I believe it is the absence of selfishness or conceit that makes him so
clear-sighted.'
'What a change! what a testimony!' triumphantly thought James. It
might be partial, but he was not the man to believe so.
That day was one of defeat; but on the following, a note from James
advised Fitzjocelyn to come and try his fortune again; Mr. Dynevor
would give no one any rest till he had seen him.
Thereupon Louis was closeted with the old merchant, who watched him
keenly, and noted every question or remark he made on the accounts;
then twinkled his eyes with satisfaction as he hit more than one of the
very blots over which Oliver had already perplexed himself. So
clear-headed and accurate did he show himself, that he soon perceived
that Mr. Dynevor looked at him as a good clerk thrown away; and he
finally obtained from him full powers to act, to bring the villain to
condign punishment, and even, if possible, to dispose of his share in
the firm.
Miss Ponsonby was much relieved to learn that Lord Fitzjocelyn was
going out, though fearing that he might meet with disappointment; but,
at least, her brother would be undeceived as to the traitor in whom he
was confiding. No letters were to announce Louis's intentions, lest
the enemy should take warning; but he carried several with him, to be
given or not, according to the state of affairs; and when, on his way
through London, he went to receive Miss Ponsonby's commissions, she
gave him a large packet, addressed to Mary.
'Am I to give her this at all events!' he asked, faltering.
'It would serve her right.'
'Then I should not give it to her. Pray write another, for she does
not deserve to be wounded, however she may have decided.'
'I do not know how I shall ever forgive her,' sighed Aunt Melicent.
'People are never so unforgiving as when they have nothing to forgive.'
'Ah! Lord Fitzjocelyn, that is not your case. This might have been far
otherwise, had I not misjudged you at first.'
'Do not believe so. It would have been hard to think me more foolish
than I was. This probation has been the best schooling for me; and,
let it end as it may, I shall be thankful for what has been.'
And in this spirit did he sail, and many an anxious thought followed
him, no heart beating higher than did that of little Charlotte, who
founded a great many hopes on the crisis that his coming would produce.
Seven years was a terrible time to have been engaged, and the little
workhouse girl thought her getting almost as old as Mrs. Beckett. She
wondered whether Tom thought so too! She did not want to think about
Martha's first cousin, who was engaged for thirty-two years to a
journeyman tailor, and when they married at last, they were both so
cross that she went out to service again at the end of a month.
Charlotte set up all her caps with Tom's favourite colour, and 'turned
Angelina' twenty times a-day.
Then came the well-known Peruvian letters, and a thin one for
Charlotte. Without recollecting that it must have crossed Lord
Fitzjocelyn on the road, she tore it open the instant she had carried
in the parlour letters. Alas! poor Charlotte!
'I write to you for the last time, lest you should consider yourself
any longer bound by the engagements which must long have been
distasteful. When I say that Mr. Ford has for some months been my
colleague, you will know to what I allude, without my expressing any
further. I am already embarked for the U. S. My enemies have
succeeded in destroying my character and blighting my hopes. I am at
present a fugitive from the hands of so-called justice; but I could
have borne all with a cheerful heart if you had not played me false.
You will never hear more of one who loved you faithfully.
'TH. MADISON.'
Poor Charlotte! The wound was a great deal too deep for her usual
childish tears, or even for a single word. She stood still, cold, and
almost unconscious till she heard a step, then she put the cruel letter
away in her bosom, and went about her work as usual.
They thought her looking very pale, and Jane now and then reproached
her with eating no more than a sparrow, and told her she was getting
into a dwining way; but she made no answer, except that she 'could do
her work.' At last, one Sunday evening, when she had been left alone
with the children, her mistress found her sitting at the foot of her
bed, among the sleeping little ones, weeping bitterly but silently.
Isabel's kindness at length opened her heart, and she put the letter
into her hand. Poor little thing, it was very meekly borne: 'Please
don't tell no one, ma'am,' she said; 'I couldn't hear him blamed!'
'But what does he mean? He must be under some terrible error. Who is
this Ford?'
'It is Delaford, ma'am, I make no doubt, though however he could have
got there! And, oh dear me! if I had only told poor Tom the whole,
that I was a silly girl, and liked his flatteries now and then, but
constant in my heart I always was!'
Isabel could not but suppose that Delaford, if it were he, might have
exaggerated poor Charlotte's little flirtation; but there was small
comfort here, since contradiction was impossible. The U. S., over
which the poor child had puzzled in vain, was no field in which to
follow him up--he had not even dated his letter; and it was a very,
very faint hope that Lord Fitzjocelyn might trace him out, especially
as he had evidently fled in disgrace; and poor Charlotte sobbed
bitterly over his troubles, as well as her own.
She was better after she had told her mistress, though still she shrank
from any other sympathy. Even Jane's pity would have been too much for
her, and her tender nature was afraid of the tongues that would have
discussed her grief. Perhaps the high-toned nature of Isabel was the
very best to be brought into contact with the poor girl's spirit, which
was of the same order, and many an evening did Isabel sit in the
twilight, beside the children's beds, talking to her, or sometimes
reading a few lines to show her how others had suffered in the same
way. 'It is my own fault,' said poor Charlotte; 'it all came of my
liking to be treated like one above the common, and it serves me right.
Yes, ma'am, that was a beautiful text you showed me last night, I
thought of it all day, and I'll try to believe that good will come out
of it. I am sure you are very good to let me love the children! I'm
certain sure Miss Salome knows that I'm in trouble, for she never fails
to run and kiss me the minute she comes in sight; and she'll sit so
quiet in my lap, the little dear, and look at me as much as to say,
'Charlotte, I wish I could comfort you.' But it was all my own fault,
ma'am, and I think I could feel as if I was punished right, so I knew
poor Tom was happy.'
'Alas!' thought Isabel, after hearing Charlotte's reminiscences; 'how
close I have lived to a world of which I was in utter ignorance! How
little did we guess that, by the careless ease and inattention of our
household, we were carrying about a firebrand, endangering not only
poor Walter, but doing fearful harm wherever we went!'