Miss Boncassen Tells the Truth
On the 20th of the month all the guests came rattling in at Matching
one after another. The Boncassens were the first, but Lady Mabel with
Miss Cassewary followed them quickly. Then came the Finns, and with
them Barrington Erle. Lord Silverbridge was the last. He arrived by a
train which reached the station at 7 P.M., and only entered the house
as his father was taking Mrs. Boncassen into the dining-room. He
dressed himself in ten minutes, and joined the party as they had
finished their fish. "I am awfully sorry," he said, rushing up to his
father, "but I thought that I should just hit it."
"There is no occasion for awe," said the Duke, "as a sufficiency of
dinner is left. But how you should have hit it, as you say,--seeing
that the train is not due at Bridstock till 7.05, I do not know."
"I've done it often, sir," said Silverbridge, taking the seat left
vacant for him next to Lady Mabel. "We've had a political caucus of
the party,--all the members who could be got together in London,--at
Sir Timothy's, and I was bound to attend."
"We've all heard of that," said Phineas Finn.
"And we pretty well know all the points of Sir Timothy's eloquence,"
said Barrington Erle.
"I am not going to tell any of the secrets. I have no doubt that
there were reporters present, and you will see the whole of it in the
papers to-morrow." Then Silverbridge turned to his neighbour. "Well,
Lady Mab, and how are you this long time?"
"But how are you? Think what you have gone through since we were at
Killancodlem!"
"Don't talk of it."
"I suppose it is not to be talked of."
"Though upon the whole it has happened very luckily. I have got rid
of the accursed horses, and my governor has shown what a brick he can
be. I don't think there is another man in England who would have done
as he did."
"There are not many who could."
"There are fewer who would. When they came into my bedroom that
morning and told me that the horse could not run, I thought I should
have broken my heart. Seventy thousand pounds gone!"
"Seventy thousand pounds!"
"And the honour and glory of winning the race! And then the feeling
that one had been so awfully swindled! Of course I had to look as
though I did not care a straw about it, and to go and see the race,
with a jaunty air and a cigar in my mouth. That is what I call hard
work."
"But you did it!"
"I tried. I wish I could explain to you my state of mind that day.
In the first place the money had to be got. Though it was to go into
the hands of swindlers, still it had to be paid. I don't know how
your father and Percival get on together;--but I felt very like the
prodigal son."
"It is very different with papa."
"I suppose so. I felt very like hanging myself when I was alone that
evening. And now everything is right again."
"I am glad that everything is right," she said, with a strong
emphasis on the "everything."
"I have done with racing, at any rate. The feeling of being in the
power of a lot of low blackguards is so terrible! I did love the poor
brute so dearly. And now what have you been doing?"
"Just nothing;--and have seen nobody. I went back to Grex after
leaving Killancodlem, and shut myself up in my misery."
"Why misery?"
"Why misery! What a question for you to ask! Though I love Grex, I am
not altogether fond of living alone; and though Grex has its charms,
they are of a melancholy kind. And when I think of the state of our
family affairs, that is not reassuring. Your father has just paid
seventy thousand pounds for you. My father has been good enough to
take something less than a quarter of that sum from me;--but still it
was all that I was ever to have."
"Girls don't want money."
"Don't they? When I look forward it seems to me that a time will come
when I shall want it very much."
"You will marry," he said. She turned round for a moment and looked
at him, full in the face, after such a fashion that he did not dare
to promise her further comfort in that direction. "Things always do
come right, somehow."
"Let us hope so. Only nothing has ever come right with me yet. What
is Frank doing?"
"I haven't seen him since he left Crummie-Toddie."
"And your sister?" she whispered.
"I know nothing about it at all."
"And you? I have told you everything about myself."
"As for me, I think of nothing but politics now. I have told you
about my racing experiences. Just at present shooting is up. Before
Christmas I shall go into Chiltern's country for a little hunting."
"You can hunt here?"
"I shan't stay long enough to make it worth while to have my horses
down. If Tregear will go with me to the Brake, I can mount him for a
day or two. But I dare say you know more of his plans than I do. He
went to see you at Grex."
"And you did not."
"I was not asked."
"Nor was he."
"Then all I can say is," replied Silverbridge, speaking in a low
voice, but with considerable energy, "that he can use a freedom with
Lady Mabel Grex upon which I cannot venture."
"I believe you begrudge me his friendship. If you had no one else
belonging to you with whom you could have any sympathy, would not you
find comfort in a relation who could be almost as near to you as a
brother?"
"I do not grudge him to you."
"Yes; you do. And what business have you to interfere?"
"None at all;--certainly. I will never do it again."
"Don't say that, Lord Silverbridge. You ought to have more mercy on
me. You ought to put up with anything from me,--knowing how much I
suffer."
"I will put up with anything," said he.
"Do, do. And now I will try to talk to Mr. Erle."
Miss Boncassen was sitting on the other side of the table, between
Mr. Monk and Phineas Finn, and throughout the dinner talked mock
politics with the greatest liveliness. Silverbridge when he entered
the room had gone round the table and had shaken hands with everyone.
But there had been no other greeting between him and Isabel, nor had
any sign passed from one to the other. No such greeting or sign had
been possible. Nothing had been left undone which she had expected,
or hoped. But, though she was lively, nevertheless she kept her eye
upon her lover and Lady Mabel. Lady Mary had said that she thought
her brother was in love with Lady Mabel. Could it be possible? In
her own land she had heard absurd stories,--stories which seemed to
her to be absurd,--of the treachery of lords and countesses, of the
baseness of aristocrats, of the iniquities of high life in London.
But her father had told her that, go where she might, she would find
people in the main to be very like each other. It had seemed to her
that nothing could be more ingenuous than this young man had been in
the declaration of his love. No simplest republican could have spoken
more plainly. But now, at this moment, she could not doubt but that
her lover was very intimate with this other girl. Of course he was
free. When she had refused to say a word to him of her own love or
want of love, she had necessarily left him his liberty. When she had
put him off for three months, of course he was to be his own master.
But what must she think of him if it were so? And how could he have
the courage to face her in his father's house if he intended to treat
her in such a fashion? But of all this she showed nothing, nor was
there a tone in her voice which betrayed her. She said her last word
to Mr. Monk with so sweet a smile that that old bachelor wished he
were younger for her sake.
In the evening after dinner there was music. It was discovered that
Miss Boncassen sang divinely, and both Lady Mabel and Lady Mary
accompanied her. Mr. Erle, and Mr. Warburton, and Mr. Monk, all of
whom were unmarried, stood by enraptured. But Lord Silverbridge kept
himself apart, and interested himself in a description which Mrs.
Boncassen gave him of their young men and their young ladies in the
States. He had hardly spoken to Miss Boncassen,--till he offered her
sherry or soda-water before she retired for the night. She refused
his courtesy with her usual smile, but showed no more emotion than
though they two had now met for the first time in their lives.
He had quite made up his mind as to what he would do. When the
opportunity should come in his way he would simply remind her that
the three months were passed. But he was shy of talking to her in
the presence of Lady Mabel and his father. He was quite determined
that the thing should be done at once, but he certainly wished that
Lady Mabel had not been there. In what she had said to him at the
dinner-table she had made him understand that she would be a trouble
to him. He remembered her look when he told her she would marry. It
was as though she had declared to him that it was he who ought to be
her husband. It referred back to that proffer of love which he had
once made to her. Of course all this was disagreeable. Of course it
made things difficult for him. But not the less was it a thing quite
assured that he would press his suit to Miss Boncassen. When he was
talking to Mrs. Boncassen he was thinking of nothing else. When he
was offering Isabel the glass of sherry he was telling himself that
he would find his opportunity on the morrow,--though now, at that
moment, it was impossible that he should make a sign. She, as she
went to bed, asked herself whether it were possible that there should
be such treachery;--whether it were possible that he should pass it
all by as though he had never said a word to her!
During the whole of the next day, which was Sunday, he was equally
silent. Immediately after breakfast, on the Monday, shooting
commenced, and he could not find a moment in which to speak. It
seemed to him that she purposely kept out of his way. With Mabel he
did find himself for a few minutes alone, and was then interrupted by
his sister and Isabel. "I hope you have killed a lot of things," said
Miss Boncassen.
"Pretty well, among us all."
"What an odd amusement it seems, going out to commit wholesale
slaughter. However it is the proper thing, no doubt."
"Quite the proper thing," said Lord Silverbridge, and that was all.
On the next morning he dressed himself for shooting,--and then sent
out the party without him. He had heard, he said, of a young horse
for sale in the neighbourhood, and had sent to desire that it might
be brought to him. And now he found his occasion.
"Come and play a game of billiards," he said to Isabel, as the three
girls with the other ladies were together in the drawing-room. She
got up very slowly from her seat, and very slowly crept away to the
door. Then she looked round as though expecting the others to follow
her. None of them did follow her. Mary felt that she ought to do so;
but, knowing all that she knew, did not dare. And what good could she
have done by one such interruption? Lady Mabel would fain have gone
too;--but neither did she quite dare. Had there been no special
reason why she should or should not have gone with them, the thing
would have been easy enough. When two people go to play billiards, a
third may surely accompany them. But now, Lady Mabel found that she
could not stir. Mrs. Finn, Mrs. Boncassen, and Miss Cassewary were
all in the room, but none of them moved. Silverbridge led the way
quickly across the hall, and Isabel Boncassen followed him very
slowly. When she entered the room she found him standing with a cue
in his hand. He at once shut the door, and walking up to her dropped
the butt of the cue on the floor and spoke one word. "Well!" he said.
"What does 'well' mean?"
"The three months are over."
"Certainly they are 'over.'"
"And I have been a model of patience."
"Perhaps your patience is more remarkable than your constancy. Is not
Lady Mabel Grex in the ascendant just now?"
"What do you mean by that? Why do you ask that? You told me to wait
for three months. I have waited, and here I am."
"How very--very--downright you are."
"Is not that the proper thing?"
"I thought I was downright,--but you beat me hollow. Yes, the three
months are over. And now what have you got to say?" He put down his
cue, and stretched out his arms as though he were going to take her
and hold her to his heart. "No;--no; not that," she said laughing.
"But if you will speak, I will hear you."
"You know what I said before. Will you love me, Isabel?"
"And you know what I said before. Do they know that you love me? Does
your father know it, and your sister? Why did they ask me to come
here?"
"Nobody knows it. But say that you love me, and everyone shall know
it at once. Yes; one person knows it. Why did you mention Lady
Mabel's name? She knows it."
"Did you tell her?"
"Yes. I went again to Killancodlem after you were gone, and then I
told her."
"But why her? Come, Lord Silverbridge. You are straightforward with
me, and I will be the same with you. You have told Lady Mabel; I have
told Lady Mary."
"My sister!"
"Yes;--your sister. And I am sure she disapproves it. She did not say
so; but I am sure it is so. And then she told me something."
"What did she tell you?"
"Has there never been reason to think that you intended to offer your
hand to Lady Mabel Grex?"
"Did she tell you so?"
"You should answer my question, Lord Silverbridge. It is surely one
which I have a right to ask." Then she stood waiting for his reply,
keeping herself at some little distance from him as though she were
afraid that he would fly upon her. And indeed there seemed to be
cause for such fear from the frequent gestures of his hands. "Why do
you not answer me? Has there been reason for such expectations?"
"Yes;--there has."
"There has!"
"I thought of it,--not knowing myself; before I had seen you. You
shall know it all if you will only say that you love me."
"I should like to know it all first."
"You do know it all;--almost. I have told you that she knows what I
said to you at Killancodlem. Is not that enough?"
"And she approves!"
"What has that to do with it? Lady Mabel is my friend, but not my
guardian."
"Has she a right to expect that she should be your wife?"
"No;--certainly not. Why should you ask all this? Do you love me?
Come, Isabel; say that you love me. Will you call me vain if I say
that I almost think you do? You cannot doubt about my love;--not
now."
"No;--not now."
"You needn't. Why won't you be as honest to me? If you hate me, say
so;--but if you love me--!"
"I do not hate you, Lord Silverbridge."
"And is that all?"
"You asked me the question."
"But you do love me? By George, I thought you would be more honest
and straightforward."
Then she dropped her badinage and answered him seriously. "I thought
I had been honest and straightforward. When I found that you were in
earnest at Killancodlem--"
"Why did you ever doubt me?"
"When I felt that you were in earnest, then I had to be in earnest
too. And I thought so much about it that I lay awake nearly all that
night. Shall I tell you what I thought?"
"Tell me something that I should like to hear."
"I will tell you the truth. 'Is it possible,' I said to myself, 'that
such a man as that can want me to be his wife; he an Englishman, of
the highest rank and the greatest wealth, and one that any girl in
the world would love?'"
"Psha!" he exclaimed.
"That is what I said to myself." Then she paused, and looking into
her face he saw that there was a glimmer of a tear in each eye. "One
that any girl must love when asked for her love;--because he is so
sweet, so good, and so pleasant."
"I know that you are chaffing."
"Then I went on asking myself questions. And is it possible that
I, who by all his friends will be regarded as a nobody, who am an
American,--with merely human workaday blood in my veins,--that such a
one as I should become his wife? Then I told myself that it was not
possible. It was not in accordance with the fitness of things. All
the dukes in England would rise up against it, and especially that
duke whose good-will would be imperative."
"Why should he rise up against it?"
"You know he will. But I will go on with my story of myself. When I
had settled that in my mind, I just cried myself to sleep. It had
been a dream. I had come across one who in his own self seemed to
combine all that I had ever thought of as being lovable in a man--"
"Isabel!"
"And in his outward circumstances soared as much above my thoughts
as the heaven is above the earth. And he had whispered to me soft,
loving, heavenly words. No;--no, you shall not touch me. But you
shall listen to me. In my sleep I could be happy again and not see
the barriers. But when I woke I made up my mind. 'If he comes to me
again,' I said--'if it should be that he should come to me again, I
will tell him that he shall be my heaven on earth,--if,--if,--if the
ill-will of his friends would not make that heaven a hell to both of
us.' I did not tell you quite all that."
"You told me nothing but that I was to come again in three months."
"I said more than that. I bade you ask your father. Now you have come
again. You cannot understand a girl's fears and doubts. How should
you? I thought perhaps you would not come. When I saw you whispering
to that highly-born well-bred beauty, and remembered what I was
myself, I thought that--you would not come."
"Then you must love me."
"Love you! Oh, my darling!--No, no, no," she said, as she retreated
from him round the corner of the billiard-table, and stood guarding
herself from him with her little hands. "You ask if I love you. You
are entitled to know the truth. From the sole of your foot to the
crown of your head I love you as I think a man would wish to be
loved by the girl he loves. You have come across my life, and have
swallowed me up, and made me all your own. But I will not marry you
to be rejected by your people. No; nor shall there be a kiss between
us till I know that it will not be so."
"May I speak to your father?"
"For what good? I have not spoken to father or mother because I have
known that it must depend upon your father. Lord Silverbridge, if
he will tell me that I shall be his daughter, I will become your
wife,--oh, with such perfect joy, with such perfect truth! If it can
never be so, then let us be torn apart,--with whatever struggle,
still at once. In that case I will get myself back to my own country
as best I may, and will pray to God that all this may be forgotten."
Then she made her way round to the door, leaving him fixed to the
spot in which she had been standing. But as she went she made a
little prayer to him. "Do not delay my fate. It is all in all to me."
And so he was left alone in the billiard-room.