Alice Leaves the Priory.
As they came in at the billiard-room door, Mr. Palliser was there to
meet them. "You must be very cold," he said to Glencora, who entered
first. "No, indeed," said Glencora;--but her teeth were chattering,
and her whole appearance gave the lie to her words. "Jeffrey," said
Mr. Palliser, turning to his cousin, "I am angry with you. You, at
least, should have known better than to have allowed her to remain so
long." Then Mr. Palliser turned away, and walked his wife off, taking
no notice whatsoever of Miss Vavasor.
Alice felt the slight, and understood it all. He had told her plainly
enough, though not in words, that he had trusted his wife with her,
and that she had betrayed the trust. She might have brought Glencora
in within five or six minutes, instead of allowing her to remain out
there in the freezing night air for nearly three-quarters of an hour.
That was the accusation which Mr. Palliser made against her, and he
made it with the utmost severity. He asked no question of her whether
she were cold. He spoke no word to her, nor did he even look at her.
She might get herself away to her bedroom as she pleased. Alice
understood all this completely, and though she knew that she had not
deserved such severity, she was not inclined to resent it. There was
so much in Mr. Palliser's position that was to be pitied, that Alice
could not find it in her heart to be angry with him.
"He is provoked with us, now," said Jeffrey Palliser, standing with
her for a moment in the billiard-room, as he handed her a candle.
"He is afraid that she will have caught cold."
"Yes; and he thinks it wrong that she should remain out at night so
long. You can easily understand, Miss Vavasor, that he has not much
sympathy for romance."
"I dare say he is right," said Alice, not exactly knowing what to
say, and not being able to forget what had been said about herself
and Jeffrey Palliser when they first left the house. "Romance usually
means nonsense, I believe."
"That is not Glencora's doctrine."
"No; but she is younger than I am. My feet are very cold, Mr.
Palliser, and I think I will go up to my room."
"Good night," said Jeffrey, offering her his hand. "I think it so
hard that you should have incurred his displeasure."
"It will not hurt me," said Alice, smiling.
"No;--but he does not forget."
"Even that will not hurt me. Good night, Mr. Palliser."
"As it is the last night, may I say good night, Alice? I shall be
away to-morrow before you are up."
He still held her hand; but it had not been in his for half a minute,
and she had thought nothing of that, nor did she draw it away even
now suddenly. "No," said she, "Glencora was very wrong there,--doing
an injury without meaning it to both of us. There can be no possible
reason why you should call me otherwise than is customary."
"Can there never be a reason?"
"No, Mr. Palliser. Good night;--and if I am not to see you to-morrow
morning, good-bye."
"You will certainly not see me to-morrow morning."
"Good-bye. Had it not been for this folly of Glencora's, our
acquaintance would have been very pleasant."
"To me it has been very pleasant. Good night."
Then she left him, and went up alone to her own room. Whether or no
other guests were still left in the drawing-room she did not know;
but she had seen that Mr. Palliser took his wife up-stairs, and
therefore she considered herself right in presuming that the party
was broken up for the night. Mr. Palliser,--Plantagenet Palliser,
according to all rules of courtesy should have said a word to her as
he went; but, as I have said before, Alice was disposed to overlook
his want of civility on this occasion. So she went up alone to her
room, and was very glad to find herself able to get close to a good
fire. She was, in truth, very cold--cold to her bones, in spite of
what Lady Glencora had said on behalf of the moonlight. They two had
been standing all but still during the greater part of the time that
they had been talking, and Alice, as she sat herself down, found that
her feet were numbed with the damp that had penetrated through her
boots. Certainly Mr. Palliser had reason to be angry that his wife
should have remained out in the night air so long,--though perhaps
not with Alice.
And then she began to think of what had been told her; and to try
to think of what, under such circumstances, it behoved her to do.
She could not doubt that Lady Glencora had intended to declare that,
if opportunity offered itself, she would leave her husband, and put
herself under the protection of Mr. Fitzgerald; and Alice, moreover,
had become painfully conscious that the poor deluded unreasoning
creature had taught herself to think that she might excuse herself
for this sin to her own conscience by the fact that she was
childless, and that she might thus give to the man who had married
her an opportunity of seeking another wife who might give him an
heir. Alice well knew how insufficient such an excuse would be even
to the wretched woman who had framed it for herself. But still
it would operate,--manifestly had already operated, on her mind,
teaching her to hope that good might come out of evil. Alice, who was
perfectly clearsighted as regarded her cousin, however much impaired
her vision might have been with reference to herself, saw nothing but
absolute ruin, ruin of the worst and most intolerable description,
in the plan which Lady Glencora seemed to have formed. To her it was
black in the depths of hell; and she knew that to Glencora also it
was black. "I loathe myself," Glencora had said, "and the thing that
I am thinking of."
What was Alice to do under these circumstances? Mr. Palliser, she was
aware, had quarrelled with her; for in his silent way he had first
shown that he had trusted her as his wife's friend; and then, on this
evening, he had shown that he had ceased to trust her. But she cared
little for this. If she told him that she wished to speak to him, he
would listen, let his opinion of her be what it might; and having
listened he would surely act in some way that would serve to save
his wife. What Mr. Palliser might think of herself, Alice cared but
little.
But then there came to her an idea that was in every respect
feminine,--that in such a matter she had no right to betray her
friend. When one woman tells the story of her love to another woman,
the confidant always feels that she will be a traitor if she reveals
the secret. Had Lady Glencora made Alice believe that she meditated
murder, or robbery, Alice would have had no difficulty in telling the
tale, and thus preventing the crime. But now she hesitated, feeling
that she would disgrace herself by betraying her friend. And, after
all, was it not more than probable that Glencora had no intention of
carrying out a threat the very thought of which must be terrible to
herself?
As she was thinking of all this, sitting in her dressing-gown close
over the fire, there came a loud knock at the door, which, as she
had turned the key, she was forced to answer in person. She opened
the door, and there was Iphigenia Palliser, Jeffrey's cousin, and Mr.
Palliser's cousin. "Miss Vavasor," she said, "I know that I am taking
a great liberty, but may I come into your room for a few minutes? I
so much wish to speak to you!" Alice of course bade her enter, and
placed a chair for her by the fire.
Alice Vavasor had made very little intimacy with either of the two
Miss Pallisers. It had seemed to herself as though there had been two
parties in the house, and that she had belonged to the one which was
headed by the wife, whereas the Miss Pallisers had been naturally
attached to that of the husband. These ladies, as she had already
seen, almost idolized their cousin; and though Plantagenet Palliser
had till lately treated Alice with the greatest personal courtesy,
there had been no intimacy of friendship between them, and
consequently none between her and his special adherents. Nor was
either of these ladies prone to sudden friendship with such a one
as Alice Vavasor. A sudden friendship, with a snuffy president of a
foreign learned society, with some personally unknown lady employed
on female emigration, was very much in their way. But Alice had not
shown herself to be useful or learned, and her special intimacy with
Lady Glencora had marked her out as in some sort separated from them
and their ways.
"I know that I am intruding," said Miss Palliser, as though she were
almost afraid of Alice.
"Oh dear, no," said Alice. "If I can do anything for you I shall be
very happy."
"You are going to-morrow, and if I did not speak to you now I should
have no other opportunity. Glencora seems to be very much attached to
you, and we all thought it so good a thing that she should have such
a friend."
"I hope you have not all changed your minds," said Alice, with a
faint smile, thinking as she spoke that the "all" must have been
specially intended to include the master of the house.
"Oh, no;--by no means. I did not mean that. My cousin, Mr. Palliser,
I mean, liked you so much when you came."
"And he does not like me quite so much now, because I went out in the
moonlight with his wife. Isn't that it?"
"Well;--no, Miss Vavasor. I had not intended to mention that at all.
I had not indeed. I have seen him certainly since you came in,--just
for a minute, and he is vexed. But it is not about that that I would
speak to you."
"I saw plainly enough that he was angry with me."
"He thought you would have brought her in earlier."
"And why should he think that I can manage his wife? She was
the mistress out there as she is in here. Mr. Palliser has been
unreasonable. Not that it signifies."
"I don't think he has been unreasonable; I don't, indeed, Miss
Vavasor. He has certainly been vexed. Sometimes he has much to vex
him. You see, Glencora is very young."
Mr. Bott also had declared that Lady Glencora was very young. It was
probable, therefore, that that special phrase had been used in some
discussion among Mr. Palliser's party as to Glencora's foibles. So
thought Alice as the remembrance of the word came upon her.
"She is not younger than when Mr. Palliser married her," Alice said.
"You mean that if a man marries a young wife he must put up with the
trouble. That is a matter of course. But their ages, in truth, are
very suitable. My cousin himself is not yet thirty. When I say that
Glencora is young--"
"You mean that she is younger in spirit, and perhaps in conduct, than
he had expected to find her."
"But you are not to suppose that he complains, Miss Vavasor. He is
much too proud for that."
"I should hope so," said Alice, thinking of Mr. Bott.
"I hardly know how to explain to you what I wish to say, or how far
I may be justified in supposing that you will believe me to be acting
solely on Glencora's behalf. I think you have some influence with
her;--and I know no one else that has any."
"My friendship with her is not of very long date, Miss Palliser."
"I know it, but still there is the fact. Am I not right in
supposing--"
"In supposing what?"
"In supposing that you had heard the name of Mr. Fitzgerald as
connected with Glencora's before her marriage with my cousin?"
Alice paused a moment before she answered.
"Yes, I had," she then said.
"And I think you were agreed, with her other relations, that such a
marriage would have been very dreadful."
"I never spoke of the matter in the presence of any relatives of
Glencora's. You must understand, Miss Palliser, that though I am her
far-away cousin, I do not even know her nearest connections. I never
saw Lady Midlothian till she came here the other day."
"But you advised her to abandon Mr. Fitzgerald."
"Never!"
"I know she was much with you, just at that time."
"I used to see her, certainly."
Then there was a pause, and Miss Palliser, in truth, scarcely knew
how to go on. There had been a hardness about Alice which her visitor
had not expected,--an unwillingness to speak or even to listen, which
made Miss Palliser almost wish that she were out of the room. She
had, however, mentioned Burgo Fitzgerald's name, and out of the room
now she could not go without explaining why she had done so. But at
this point Alice came suddenly to her assistance.
"Just then she was often with me," said Alice, continuing her reply;
"and there was much talk between us about Mr. Fitzgerald. What was
my advice then can be of little matter; but in this we shall be both
agreed, Miss Palliser, that Glencora now should certainly not be
called upon to be in his company."
"She has told you, then?"
"Yes;--she has told me."
"That he is to be at Lady Monk's?"
"She has told me that Mr. Palliser expects her to meet him at the
place to which they are going when they leave the Duke's, and that
she thinks it hard that she should be subjected to such a trial."
"It should be no trial, Miss Vavasor."
"How can it be otherwise? Come, Miss Palliser; if you are her friend,
be fair to her."
"I am her friend;--but I am, above everything, my cousin's friend. He
has told me that she has complained of having to meet this man. He
declares that it should be nothing to her, and that the fear is an
idle folly. It should be nothing to her, but still the fear may not
be idle. Is there any reason,--any real reason,--why she should not
go? Miss Vavasor, I conjure you to tell me,--even though in doing so
you must cast so deep reproach upon her name! Anything will be better
than utter disgrace and sin!"
"I conceive that I cast no reproach upon her in saying that there is
great reason why she should not go to Monkshade."
"You think there is absolute grounds for interference? I must tell
him, you know, openly what he would have to fear."
"I think,--nay, Miss Palliser, I know,--that there is ample reason
why you should save her from being taken to Monkshade, if you have
the power to do so."
"I can only do it, or attempt to do it, by telling him just what you
tell me."
"Then tell him. You must have thought of that, I suppose, before you
came to me."
"Yes;--yes, Miss Vavasor. I had thought of it. No doubt I had thought
of it. But I had believed all through that you would assure me that
there was no danger. I believed that you would have said that she was
innocent."
"And she is innocent," said Alice, rising from her chair, as though
she might thus give emphasis to words which she hardly dared to speak
above a whisper. "She is innocent. Who accuses her of guilt? You ask
me a question on his behalf--"
"On hers--and on his, Miss Vavasor."
"A question which I feel myself bound to answer truly,--to answer
with reference to the welfare of them both; but I will not have it
said that I accuse her. She had been attached to Mr. Fitzgerald when
your cousin married her. He knew that this had been the case. She
told him the whole truth. In a worldly point of view her marriage
with Mr. Fitzgerald would probably have been very imprudent."
"It would have been utterly ruinous."
"Perhaps so; I say nothing about that. But as it turned out, she gave
up her own wishes and married your cousin."
"I don't know about her own wishes, Miss Vavasor."
"It is what she did. She would have married Mr. Fitzgerald, had she
not been hindered by the advice of those around her. It cannot be
supposed that she has forgotten him in so short a time. There can be
no guilt in her remembrance."
"There is guilt in loving any other than her husband."
"Then, Miss Palliser, it was her marriage that was guilty, and not
her love. But all that is done and past. It should be your cousin's
object to teach her to forget Mr. Fitzgerald, and he will not do that
by taking her to a house where that gentleman is staying."
"She has said so much to you herself?"
"I do not know that I need declare to you what she has said herself.
You have asked me a question, and I have answered it, and I am
thankful to you for having asked it. What object can either of us
have but to assist her in her position?"
"And to save him from dishonour. I had so hoped that this was simply
a childish dread on her part."
"It is not so. It is no childish dread. If you have the power to
prevent her going to Lady Monk's, I implore you to use it. Indeed, I
will ask you to promise me that you will do so."
"After what you have said, I have no alternative."
"Exactly. There is no alternative. Either for his sake or for hers,
there is none."
Thereupon Miss Palliser got up, and wishing her companion good
night, took her departure. Throughout the interview there had been
no cordiality of feeling between them. There was no pretence of
friendship, even as they were parting. They acknowledged that their
objects were different. That of Alice was to save Lady Glencora
from ruin. That of Miss Palliser was to save her cousin from
disgrace,--with perhaps some further honest desire to prevent sorrow
and sin. One loved Lady Glencora, and the other clearly did not love
her. But, nevertheless, Alice felt that Miss Palliser, in coming to
her, had acted well, and that to herself this coming had afforded
immense relief. Some step would now be taken to prevent that meeting
which she had so deprecated, and it would be taken without any great
violation of confidence on her part. She had said nothing as to which
Lady Glencora could feel herself aggrieved.
On the next morning she was down in the breakfast-room soon after
nine, and had not been in the room many minutes before Mr. Palliser
entered. "The carriage is ordered for you at a quarter before ten,"
he said, "and I have come down to give you your breakfast." There was
a smile on his face as he spoke, and Alice could see that he intended
to make himself pleasant.
"Will you allow me to give you yours instead?" said she. But as it
happened, no giving on either side was needed, as Alice's breakfast
was brought to her separately.
"Glencora bids me say that she will be down immediately," said Mr.
Palliser.
Alice then made some inquiry with reference to the effects of last
night's imprudence, which received only a half-pronounced reply.
Mr. Palliser was willing to be gracious, but did not intend to be
understood as having forgiven the offence. The Miss Pallisers then
came in together, and after them Mr. Bott, closely followed by Mrs.
Marsham, and all of them made inquiries after Lady Glencora, as
though it was to be supposed that she might probably be in a perilous
state after what she had undergone on the previous evening. Mr. Bott
was particularly anxious. "The frost was so uncommonly severe," said
he, "that any delicate person like Lady Glencora must have suffered
in remaining out so long."
The insinuation that Alice was not a delicate person and that, as
regarded her, the severity of the frost was of no moment, was very
open, and was duly appreciated. Mr. Bott was aware that his great
patron had in some sort changed his opinion about Miss Vavasor, and
he was of course disposed to change his own. A fortnight since Alice
might have been as delicate as she pleased in Mr. Bott's estimation.
"I hope you do not consider Lady Glencora delicate," said Alice to Mr.
Palliser.
"She is not robust," said the husband.
"By no means," said Mrs. Marsham.
"Indeed, no," said Mr. Bott.
Alice knew that she was being accused of being robust herself; but
she bore it in silence. Ploughboys and milkmaids are robust, and the
accusation was a heavy one. Alice, however, thought that she would
not have minded it, if she could have allowed herself to reply; but
this at the moment of her going away she could not do.
"I think she is as strong as the rest of us," said Iphigenia
Palliser, who felt that after last night she owed something to Miss
Vavasor.
"As some of us," said Mr. Bott, determined to persevere in his
accusation.
At this moment Lady Glencora entered, and encountered the eager
inquiries of her two duennas. These, however, she quickly put aside,
and made her way up to Alice. "The last morning has come, then," she
said.
"Yes, indeed," said Alice. "Mr. Palliser must have thought that I was
never going."
"On the other hand," said he, "I have felt much obliged to you for
staying." But he said it coldly; and Alice began to wish that she had
never seen Matching Priory.
"Obliged!" exclaimed Lady Glencora. "I can't tell you how much
obliged I am. Oh, Alice, I wish you were going to stay with us!"
"We are leaving this in a week's time," said Mr. Palliser.
"Of course we are," said Lady Glencora. "With all my heart I wish we
were not. Dear Alice! I suppose we shall not meet till we are all in
town."
"You will let me know when you come up," said Alice.
"I will send to you instantly; and, Alice, I will write to you from
Gatherum,--or from Monkshade."
Alice could not help looking around and catching Miss Palliser's eye.
Miss Palliser was standing with her foot on the fender, but was so
placed that she could see Alice. She made a slight sign with her
head, as much as to say that Lady Glencora must have no opportunity
of writing from the latter place; but she said nothing.
Then the carriage was announced, and Mr. Palliser took Alice out on
his arm. "Don't come to the door, Glencora," he said. "I especially
wish you not to do so." The two cousins then kissed each other, and
Alice went away to the carriage.
"Good-bye, Miss Vavasor," said Mr. Palliser; but he expressed no wish
that he might see her again as his guest at Matching Priory.
Alice, as she was driven in solitary grandeur to the railway station,
could not but wish that she had never gone there.