General Dorrien's widow occupied a semi-detached villa in Maida Vale.
She had, as we have seen, persistently and even fiercely refused her
son's repeated offers of a settlement, liberal and freely made as they
were, preferring to live on her own not very ample means to accepting a
penny from him whom, without a shred of evidence to justify her in the
idea, she persisted in regarding as responsible for his brother's death.
The difference in her mode of living was a trifle, she declared. At
Cranston, they had always lived very quietly, so it was in no sense a
"come-down." Poor Nellie, however, had felt the change acutely, and
although she tried dutifully to make the best of it, the exclusive
society of a gloomy parent told upon her spirits, and the smoke-defiled
air of suburban London was a poor substitute for the strong ozone of the
sea. Consequently, the girl became seriously ailing, and there was
nothing for it but to send her away for a change.
It was some time, however, before the widow would allow her to accept
Roland's invitation, and it was not until he threatened to go in person
and bring her away by force that her mother, whom misfortune had not
rendered one whit less selfish and exacting, reluctantly gave way. So
Nellie returned for a long stay at her old home, and was made much of by
her brother and his wife, under which bright auspices her spirits came
back like magic, and day after day she wondered the more how they could
all find themselves so thoroughly happy where, before, gloom and
restraint, jars and wrangles, had been the order of the day. Why, she
could hardly believe it was Cranston, and Olive's warning had weight--
that she must not get well and strong too quickly, or her mother would
be wanting her back again.
And this warning was very urgently seconded by a certain
recently-gazetted subaltern, who seemed to divide the time of his leave
exclusively between the Rectory and Cranston Hall, the latter receiving
by far the lion's share. In short, Eustace made the most of his
opportunities, to the satisfaction of both parties. There was a third
party to be reckoned with, though, and one into whose scheme
satisfaction did not enter. This was Nellie's mother.
The widow was furious when the subject was broached to her. Never as
long as she lived would she listen to any such preposterous idea. The
very name of Ingelow was repulsive to her; had not that detestable
family wrought mischief--not to say crime--enough? Poor Nellie was
ordered home at once; and, not content with giving Roland a most
unambiguous bit of her mind, Mrs Dorrien, senior, extended the
attention to Dr Ingelow, who for his part consigned the vituperative
document to the flames, mostly unread. But Roland, chucking his
jobation across the table to Olive, laughed sneeringly at the pious
quotations, alternating line by line with vehement abuse.
"Ha-ha! Honour our parents, indeed! No, no. That string's played
through, Mrs General Dorrien."
He was for keeping Nellie at Cranston altogether, but apart from the
objections of the girl herself--who, in spite of everything, refused to
leave her mother, now that the latter was all alone--the rector strongly
objected to his son being a party to such desertion. They must wait and
have patience. It was only a question of time, and both were young. A
little self-denial and consideration, even for one bitterly hostile,
would do them no harm--in fact, they could not but be the gainers by it
in the long run. Thus the good old man. But his son-in-law was not of
this way of thinking; however, he yielded the point.
Then Eustace, deserted by his supports, resolved upon a bold venture--
nothing less than an advance upon the enemy's camp under cover of a flag
of truce. The widow received him, but to the end of his life the
youthful warrior was sure he would retain a very lively recollection of
the interview, though a confused idea of what was said in the course
thereof. As he remarked to his sister, Sophie, when reporting
progress--"Sweet relative--future mamma-in-law? Blackguarded a fellow
without a break for twenty-five minutes by the clock, and then, before
he could get in a word edgeways, turfed him out into the street. Take
my word for it, Sophonisba, my jewel, I wouldn't tackle that same
ancient and formidable party again--no, not for all the V.C.s ever
struck."
Left to her retirement, the General's widow did two things, neither of
which tended to her own peace of mind nor to the happiness of her
daughter. She went in strongly for the Gospel according to Calvin, and
she cherished and fed her grief for the loss of her idolised son. Her
crapes were as heavy as in the first month of her widowhood, and no
little awe did the stern and gloomy countenance, and the tall figure
swathed in deepest black, inspire among the elect of the flock
shepherded by the noted evangelical luminary whom Mrs Dorrien had
elected to "sit under." She lived alone with her daughter, visiting,
and being visited by, nobody, in order that she might more freely brood
and indulge her grief. She suffered terrible anguish at times, yet
looked upon her loss in the light of a judgment, and while admitting the
justice of it as concerning herself, yet none the less luridly did her
resentment burn against him whom, rightly or wrongly, she regarded as
its instrument.