The Duke's Injustice
No advantage whatever was obtained by Lady Mary's interview with her
father. He persisted that Mrs. Finn had been untrue to him when she
left Matching without telling him all that she knew of his daughter's
engagement with Mr. Tregear. No doubt by degrees that idea which he
at first entertained was expelled from his head,--the idea that she
had been cognisant of the whole thing before she came to Matching;
but even this was done so slowly that there was no moment at which he
became aware of any lessened feeling of indignation. To his thinking
she had betrayed her trust, and he could not be got by his daughter
to say that he would forgive her. He certainly could not be got to
say that he would apologise for the accusation he had made. It was
nothing less that his daughter asked; and he could hardly refrain
himself from anger when she asked it. "There should not have been
a moment," he said, "before she came to me and told me all." Poor
Lady Mary's position was certainly uncomfortable enough. The great
sin,--the sin which was so great that to have known it for a day
without revealing it was in itself a damning sin on the part of Mrs.
Finn,--was Lady Mary's sin. And she differed so entirely from her
father as to think that this sin of her own was a virtue, and that to
have spoken of it to him would have been, on the part of Mrs. Finn,
a treachery so deep that no woman ought to have forgiven it! When
he spoke of a matter which deeply affected his honour,--she could
hardly refrain from asserting that his honour was quite safe in his
daughter's hands. And when in his heart he declared that it should
have been Mrs. Finn's first care to save him from disgrace, Lady Mary
did break out. "Papa, there could be no disgrace." "That for a moment
shall be laid aside," he said, with that manner by which even his
peers in council had never been able not to be awed, "but if you
communicate with Mrs. Finn at all you must make her understand that I
regard her conduct as inexcusable."
Nothing had been gained, and poor Lady Mary was compelled to write a
few lines which were to her most painful in writing.
MY DEAR MRS. FINN,
I have seen papa, and he thinks that you ought to have
told him when I told you. It occurs to me that that would
have been a cruel thing to do, and most unfair to Mr.
Tregear, who was quite willing to go to papa, and had only
put off doing so because of poor mamma's death. As I had
told mamma, of course it was right that he should tell
papa. Then I told you, because you were so kind to me! I
am so sorry that I have got you into this trouble; but
what can I do?
I told him I must write to you. I suppose it is better
that I should, although what I have to say is so
unpleasant. I hope it will all blow over in time,
because I love you dearly. You may be quite sure of one
thing,--that I shall never change. [In this assurance the
writer was alluding not to her friendship for her friend
but her love for her lover,--and so the friend understood
her.] I hope things will be settled some day, and then we
may be able to meet.
Your very affectionate Friend,
MARY PALLISER.
Mrs. Finn, when she received this, was alone in her house in Park
Lane. Her husband was down in the North of England. On this subject
she had not spoken to him, fearing that he would feel himself bound
to take some steps to support his wife under the treatment she had
received. Even though she must quarrel with the Duke, she was most
anxious that her husband should not be compelled to do so. Their
connection had been political rather than personal. There were many
reasons why there should be no open cause of disruption between them.
But her husband was hot-headed, and, were all this to be told him and
that letter shown to him which the Duke had written, there would be
words between him and the Duke which would probably make impossible
any further connection between them.
It troubled her very much. She was by no means not alive to the
honour of the Duke's friendship. Throughout her intimacy with the
Duchess she had abstained from pressing herself on him, not because
she had been indifferent about him, but that she had perceived that
she might make her way with him better by standing aloof than by
thrusting herself forward. And she had known that she had been
successful. She could tell herself with pride that her conduct
towards him had been always such as would become a lady of high
spirit and fine feeling. She knew that she had deserved well of him,
that in all her intercourse with him, with his uncle, and with his
wife, she had given much and had taken little. She was the last woman
in the world to let a word on such a matter pass her lips; but not
the less was she conscious of her merit towards him. And she had been
led to act as she had done by sincere admiration for the man. In all
their political troubles, she had understood him better than the
Duchess had done. Looking on from a distance she had understood the
man's character as it had come to her both from his wife and from her
own husband.
That he was unjust to her,--cruelly unjust, she was quite sure. He
accused her of intentional privity to a secret which it behoved him
to know, and of being a party to that secrecy. Whereas from the
moment in which she had heard the secret she had determined that it
must be made known to him. She felt that she had deserved his good
opinion in all things, but in nothing more than in the way in which
she had acted in this matter. And yet he had treated her with an
imperious harshness which amounted to insolence. What a letter it was
that he had written to her! The very tips of her ears tingled with
heat as she read it again to herself. None of the ordinary courtesies
of epistle-craft had been preserved either in the beginning or in
the end. It was worse even than if he had called her Madam without
an epithet. "The Duke understands--" "The Duke thinks--" "The Duke
feels--" feels that he should not be troubled with either letters or
conversation; the upshot of it all being that the Duke declared her
to have shown herself unworthy of being treated like a lady! And this
after all that she had done!
She would not bear it. That at present was all that she could say
to herself. She was not angry with Lady Mary. She did not doubt but
that the girl had done the best in her power to bring her father
to reason. But because Lady Mary had failed, she, Mrs. Finn,
was not going to put up with so grievous an injury. And she was
forced to bear all this alone! There was none with whom she could
communicate;--no one from whom she could ask advice. She would not
bring her husband into a quarrel which might be prejudicial to his
position as a member of his political party. There was no one else to
whom she would tell the secret of Lady Mary's love. And yet she could
not bear this injustice done to her.
Then she wrote as follows to the Duke:
Mrs. Finn presents her compliments to the Duke of Omnium.
Mrs. Finn finds it to be essential to her that she should
see the Duke in reference to his letter to her. If his
Grace will let her know on what day and at what hour he
will be kind enough to call on her, Mrs. Finn will be at
home to receive him.
Park Lane. Thursday, 12th May, 18--.