CONCLUSION.
Early in November Mr. Tappitt officially announced his intention
of abdicating, and the necessary forms and deeds and parchment
obligations were drawn out, signed and sealed, for the giving
up of the brewery to Luke Rowan. Mr. Honyman's clerk revelled in
thinly-covered folio sheets to the great comfort and profit of his
master; while Mr. Sharpit went about Baslehurst declaring that
Tappitt was an egregious ass, and hinting that Rowan was little
better than a clever swindler. What he said, however, had but little
effect on Baslehurst. It had become generally understood that Rowan
would spend money in the town, employing labour and struggling to
go ahead, and Baslehurst knew that such a man was desirable as a
citizen. The parchments were prepared, and the signatures were
written with the necessary amount of witnessing, and Tappitt and
Rowan once more met each other on friendly terms. Tappitt had
endeavoured to avoid this, pleading, both to Honyman and to his wife,
that his personal dislike to the young man was as great as ever; but
they had not permitted him thus to indulge his wrath. Mr. Honyman
pointed out to Mrs. Tappitt that such ill-humour might be very
detrimental to their future interests, and Tappitt had been made to
give way. We may as well declare at once that the days of Tappitt's
domestic dominion were over, as is generally the case with a man who
retires from work and allows himself to be placed, as a piece of
venerable furniture, in the chimney corner. Hitherto he, and he only,
had known what funds could be made available out of the brewery for
household purposes; and Mrs. Tappitt had been subject, at every turn
of her life, to provoking intimations of reduced profits: but now
there was the clear thousand a year, and she could demand her rights
in accordance with that sum. Tappitt, too, could never again stray
away from home with mysterious hints that matters connected with malt
and hops must be discussed at places in which beer was consumed. He
had no longer left to him any excuse for deviating from the regular
course of his life even by a hair's breadth; and before two years
were over he had learned to regard it almost as a favour to be
allowed to take a walk with one of his own girls. No man should
abdicate,--unless, indeed, he does so for his soul's advantage. As to
happiness in this life it is hardly compatible with that diminished
respect which ever attends the relinquishing of labour. Otium cum
dignitate is a dream. There is no such position at any rate for
the man who has once worked. He may have the ease or he may have
the dignity; but he can hardly combine the two. This truth the
unfortunate Tappitt learned before he had been three months settled
in the Torquay villa.
He was called upon to meet Rowan on friendly terms, and he obeyed.
The friendship was not very cordial, but such as it was it served its
purpose. The meeting took place in the dining-room of the brewery,
and Mrs. Tappitt was present on the occasion. The lady received her
visitor with some little affectation of grandeur, while T., standing
with his hands in his pockets on his own rug, looked like a whipped
hound. The right hand he was soon forced to bring forth, as Rowan
demanded it that he might shake it.
"I am very glad that this affair has been settled between us
amicably," said Luke, while he still held the hand of the abdicating
brewer.
"Yes; well, I suppose it's for the best," said Tappitt, bringing out
his words uncomfortably and with hesitation. "Take care and mind what
you're about, or I suppose I shall have to come back again."
"There'll be no fear of that, I think," said Rowan.
"I hope not," said Mrs. Tappitt, with a tone that showed that she
was much better able to master the occasion than her husband. "I
hope not; but this is a great undertaking for so young a man, and I
trust you feel your responsibility. It would be disagreeable to us,
of course, to have to return to the brewery after having settled
ourselves pleasantly at Torquay; but we shall have to do so if things
go wrong with you."
"Don't be frightened, Mrs. Tappitt; you shall never have to come back
here."
"I hope not; but it is always well to be on one's guard. I am
sure you must be aware that Mr. Tappitt has behaved to you very
generously; and if you have the high principle for which we are
willing to give you credit, and which you ought to possess for the
management of such an undertaking as the brewery, you will be careful
that me and my daughters shan't be put to inconvenience by any delay
in paying up the income regularly."
"Don't be afraid about that, Mrs. Tappitt."
"Into the bank on quarter day, if you please, Mr. Rowan. Short
accounts make long friends. And as Mr. T. won't want to be troubled
with letters and such-like, you can send me a line to Montpellier
Villa, Torquay, just to say that it's done."
"Oh, I'll see to that," said Tappitt.
"My dear, as Mr. Rowan is so young for the business there'll be
nothing like getting him to write a letter himself, saying that the
money is paid. It'll keep him up to the mark like, and I'm sure I
shan't mind the trouble."
"Don't you be alarmed about the money, Mrs. Tappitt," said Rowan,
laughing; "and in order that you may know how the old shop is going
on, I'll always send you at Christmas sixteen gallons of the best
stuff we're brewing."
"That will be a very proper little attention, Mr. Rowan, and we shall
be happy to drink success to the establishment. Here's some cake and
wine on the table, and perhaps you'll do us the favour to take a
glass,--so as to bury any past unkindness. T., my love, will you pour
out the wine?"
It was twelve o'clock in the day, and the port wine, which had been
standing for the last week in its decanter, was sipped by Luke Rowan
without any great relish. But it also served its purpose,--and the
burial service over past unkindness was performed with as much
heartiness as the nature of the entertainment admitted. It was not
as yet full four months since Rowan had filled Rachel's glass with
champagne in that same room. Then he had made himself quite at home
in the house as a member of Mr. Tappitt's family; but now he was
going to be at home there as master of the establishment. As he
put down the glass he could not help looking round the room, and
suggesting to himself the changes he would make. As seen at present,
the parlour of the brewery was certainly a dull room. It was very
long since the wainscoting had been painted, longer since the
curtains or carpets had been renewed. It was dark and dingy. But then
so were the Tappitts themselves. Before Rachel should be brought
there he would make the place as bright as herself.
They said to him no word about his marriage. As for Tappitt he said
few words about anything; and Mrs. Tappitt, with all her wish to be
gracious, could not bring herself to mention Rachel Ray. Even between
her and her daughters there was no longer any utterance of Rachel's
name. She had once declared to Augusta, with irrepressible energy,
that the man was a greater fool than she had ever believed possible,
but after that it had been felt that the calamity would be best
endured in silence.
When that interview in the dining-room was over, Rowan saw no more of
Mrs. Tappitt. Business made it needful that he should be daily about
the brewery, and there occasionally he met the poor departing man
wandering among the vats and empty casks like a brewer's ghost. There
was no word spoken between them as to business. The accounts, the
keys, and implements were all handed over through Worts; and Rowan
found himself in possession of the whole establishment with no more
trouble than would have been necessary in settling himself in a new
lodging.
That promise which he had half made of sending bridecake to Mrs.
Sturt before Christmas was not kept, but it was broken only by a
little. They were married early in January. In December Mrs. Rowan
came back to Baslehurst, and became the guest of her son, who was
then keeping a bachelor's house at the brewery. This lady's first
visit to the cottage after her return was an affair of great moment
to Rachel. Everything now had gone well with her except that question
of her mother-in-law. Her lover had come back to her a better lover
than ever; her mother petted her to her heart's content, speaking of
Luke as though she had never suspected him of lupine propensities;
Mr. Comfort talked to her of her coming marriage as though she had
acted with great sagacity through the whole affair, addressing her in
a tone indicating much respect, and differing greatly from that in
which he had been wont to catechise her when she was nothing more
than Mrs. Ray's girl at Bragg's End; and even Dolly had sent in her
adhesion, with more or less cordiality. But still she had feared
Mrs. Rowan's enmity, and when Luke told her that his mother was
coming to Baslehurst for the Christmas,--so that she might also
be present at the marriage,--Rachel felt that there was still a
cloud in her heavens. "I know your mother won't like me," she said
to Luke. "She made up her mind not to like me when she was here
before." Luke assured her that she did not understand his mother's
character,--asserting that his mother would certainly like any woman
that he might choose for his wife as soon as she should have been
made to understand that his choice was irrevocable. But Rachel
remembered too well the report as to that former visit to the cottage
which Mrs. Rowan had made together with Mrs. Tappitt; and when she
heard that Luke's mother was again in the parlour she went down from
her bedroom with hesitating step and an uneasy heart. Mrs. Rowan was
seated in the room with her mother and sister when she entered it,
and therefore the first words of the interview had been already
spoken. To Mrs. Ray the prospect of the visit had not been pleasant,
for she also remembered how grand and distant the lady had been when
she came to the cottage on that former occasion; but Rachel observed,
as she entered the room, that her mother's face did not wear that
look of dismay which was usual to her when she was in any presence
that was disagreeable to her.
"My dear child!" said Mrs. Rowan rising from her seat, and opening
her arms for an embrace. Rachel underwent the embrace, and kissed the
lady by whom she found herself to be thus enveloped. She kissed Mrs.
Rowan, but she could not, for the life of her, think of any word to
speak which would be fitting for the occasion.
"My own dear child!" said Mrs. Rowan again; "for you know that you
are to be my child now as well as your own mamma's."
"It is very kind of you to say so," said Mrs. Ray.
"Very kind, indeed," said Mrs. Prime; "and I'm sure that you will
find Rachel dutiful as a daughter." Rachel herself did not feel
disposed to give any positive assurance on that point. She intended
to be dutiful to her husband, and was inclined to think that
obedience in that direction was quite enough for a married woman.
"Now that Luke is going to settle himself for life," continued Mrs.
Rowan, "it is so very desirable that he should be married at once.
Don't you think so, Mrs. Ray?"
"Indeed, yes, Mrs. Rowan. I always like to hear of young men getting
married; that is when they've got anything to live upon. It makes
them less harum-scarum like."
"I don't think Luke was ever what you call harum-scarum," said Mrs.
Rowan.
"Mother didn't mean to say he was," said Mrs. Prime; "but marriage
certainly does steady a young man, and generally makes him much more
constant at Divine service."
"My Luke always did go to church very regularly," said Mrs. Rowan.
"I like to see young men in church," said Mrs. Ray. "As for the girls
they go as a matter of course; but young men are allowed so much of
their own way. When a man is a father of a family it becomes very
different." Hereupon Rachel blushed, and then was kissed again by
Luke's mother; and was made the subject of certain very interesting
prophecies, which embarrassed her considerably and which need not be
repeated here. After that interview she was never again afraid of her
mother-in-law.
"You'll love mamma, when you know her," said Mary Rowan to Rachel a
day or two afterwards. "Strangers and acquaintances generally think
that she is a very tremendous personage, but she always does what she
is asked by those who belong to her;--and as for Luke, she's almost
a slave to him." I won't say that Rachel resolved that Mrs. Rowan
should be a slave to her also, but she did resolve that she would
not be a slave to Mrs. Rowan. She intended henceforward to serve one
person and one person only.
Mrs. Butler Cornbury also called at the cottage; and her visit was
very delightful to Rachel,--not the less so perhaps because Mrs.
Prime was away at a Dorcas meeting. Had she been at the cottage all
those pleasant allusions to the transactions at the ball would hardly
have been made. "Don't tell me," said Mrs. Cornbury. "Do you think I
couldn't see how it was going to be with half an eye? I told Walter
that very night that he was a goose to suppose that you would go down
to supper with him."
"But, Mrs. Cornbury, I really intended it; only they had another
dance, and I was obliged to stand up with Mr. Rowan because I was
engaged to him."
"I don't doubt you were engaged to him, my dear."
"Only for that dance, I mean."
"Only for that dance, of course. But now you are engaged to him for
something else, and I tell you that I knew it was going to be so."
All this was very pretty and very pleasant; and when Mrs. Cornbury,
as she went away, made a special request that she might be invited to
the wedding, Rachel was supremely happy.
"Mamma," she said, "I do love that woman. I hardly know why, but I do
love her so much."
"It was always the same with Patty Comfort," said Mrs. Ray. "She had
a way of making people fond of her. They say that she can do just
what she likes with the old gentleman at the Grange."
It may be well that I should declare here that there was no scrutiny
as to the return of Butler Cornbury to Parliament,--to the great
satisfaction both of old Mr. Cornbury and of old Mr. Comfort. They
had been brought to promise that the needful funds for supporting
the scrutiny should be forthcoming; but the promise had been made
with heavy hearts, and the tidings of Mr. Hart's quiescence had been
received very gratefully both at Cornbury and at Cawston.
Luke and Rachel were married on New Year's Day at Cawston church, and
afterwards made a short marriage trip to Penzance and the Land's End.
It was cold weather for pleasure-travelling; but snow and winds and
rain affect young married people less, I think, than they do other
folk. Rachel when she returned could not bear to be told that it had
been cold. There was no winter, she said, at Penzance,--and so she
continued to say ever afterwards.
Mrs. Ray would not consent to abandon the cottage at Bragg's End. She
still remained its occupier in conjunction with Mrs. Prime, but she
passed more than half her time at the brewery. Mrs. Prime is still
Mrs. Prime; and will, I think, remain so, although Mr. Prong is
occasionally seen to call at the cottage.
It is, I think, now universally admitted by all Devonshire and
Cornwall that Luke Rowan has succeeded in brewing good beer; with
what results to himself I am not prepared to say. I do not, however,
think it probable that he will succeed in his professed object of
shutting up the apple orchards of the county.
* * * * * *
Transcriber's note:
Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.
Volume I, Chapter XII, paragraph 45. "She had pledged
herself to give Mr. Prong an answer on Friday, . . ."
The astute reader will recall from Chapter IX that Mrs.
Prime asked Mr. Prong to call on Saturday, while Miss
Pucker was shopping, to learn her answer to his proposal.
Specific changes in wording of the text are listed below.
Volume I, Chaper VII, paragraph 16. The word "walks" was
changed to "walls" in the sentence: Now the room was
partially cleared, the non-dancers being pressed back
into a border round the WALLS, and the music began.
Volume I, Chapter XIV, paragraph 1. "Excellence" was
changed to "existence" in the sentence: In Rachel's
presence, and sweet smile, and winning caresses was
the chief delight of her EXISTENCE.
Volume II, Chapter III, paragraph 2. The word "hopes" was
changed to "hope" in the sentence: She told herself that
such was her HOPE;. . .
Volume II, Chapter XI, paragraph 32. "Dining-room" was
changed to "drawing-room" in the sentence beginning: Rowan
did not see her till he met her in the DRAWING-ROOM, just
before dinner . . .
Volume II, Chapter XII, paragraph 1. "Country-house" was
changed to "counting-house" in the sentence: He was alone
and thoughtful in his COUNTING-HOUSE, or else subjected to
the pressure of his wife's arguments in his private dwelling.
Volume II, Chapter XIII, paragraph 26. "Wives" was changed
to "wife" in the sentence: Nevertheless she carried the
tidings up into Baslehurst, and as she repeated it to the
grocer's daughters and the baker's WIFE she shook her head
with as much apparent satisfaction as though she really
believed that Rachel oscillated between a ruined name and a
broken heart.