"It Won't Be True"
Mrs. Greystock, in making her proposition respecting Lady Linlithgow,
wrote to Lady Fawn, and by the same post Frank wrote to Lucy. But
before those letters reached Fawn Court there had come that other
dreadful letter from Mrs. Hittaway. The consternation caused at Fawn
Court in respect to Mr. Greystock's treachery almost robbed of its
importance the suggestion made as to Lord Fawn. Could it be possible
that this man, who had so openly and in so manly a manner engaged
himself to Lucy Morris, should now be proposing to himself a marriage
with his rich cousin? Lady Fawn did not believe that it was possible.
Clara had not seen those horrid things with her own eyes, and other
people might be liars. But Amelia shook her head. Amelia evidently
believed that all manner of iniquities were possible to man. "You
see, mamma, the sacrifice he was making was so very great!" "But he
made it!" pleaded Lady Fawn. "No, mamma, he said he would make it.
Men do these things. It is very horrid, but I think they do them more
now than they used to. It seems to me that nobody cares now what he
does, if he's not to be put into prison." It was resolved between
these two wise ones that nothing at the present should be said to
Lucy or to any one of the family. They would wait awhile, and in
the meantime they attempted,--as far as it was possible to make the
attempt without express words,--to let Lucy understand that she might
remain at Fawn Court if she pleased. While this was going on, Lord
Fawn did come down once again, and on that occasion Lucy simply
absented herself from the dinner-table and from the family circle for
that evening. "He's coming in, and you've got to go to prison again,"
Nina said to her, with a kiss.
The matter to which Mrs. Hittaway's letter more specially alluded
was debated between the mother and daughter at great length. They,
indeed, were less brave and less energetic than was the married
daughter of the family; but as they saw Lord Fawn more frequently,
they knew better than Mrs. Hittaway the real state of the case. They
felt sure that he was already sufficiently embittered against Lady
Eustace, and thought that therefore the peculiarly unpleasant task
assigned to Lady Fawn need not be performed. Lady Fawn had not the
advantage of living so much in the world as her daughter, and was
oppressed by, perhaps, a squeamish delicacy. "I really could not tell
him about her sitting and--and kissing the man. Could I, my dear?" "I
couldn't," said Amelia;--"but Clara would."
"And to tell the truth," continued Lady Fawn, "I shouldn't care a bit
about it if it was not for poor Lucy. What will become of her if that
man is untrue to her?"
"Nothing on earth would make her believe it, unless it came from
himself," said Amelia,--who really did know something of Lucy's
character. "Till he tells her, or till she knows that he's married,
she'll never believe it."
Then, after a few days, there came those other letters from
Bobsborough,--one from the dean's wife and the other from Frank. The
matter there proposed it was necessary that they should discuss with
Lucy, as the suggestion had reached Lucy as well as themselves. She
at once came to Lady Fawn with her lover's letter, and with a gentle
merry laughing face declared that the thing would do very well. "I am
sure I should get on with her, and I should know that it wouldn't be
for long," said Lucy.
"The truth is, we don't want you to go at all," said Lady Fawn.
"Oh, but I must," said Lucy in her sharp, decided tone. "I must go. I
was bound to wait till I heard from Mr. Greystock, because it is my
first duty to obey him. But of course I cannot stay here after what
has passed. As Nina says, it is simply going to prison when Lord Fawn
comes here."
"Nina is an impertinent little chit," said Amelia.
"She is the dearest little friend in all the world," said Lucy, "and
always tells the exact truth. I do go to prison, and when he comes I
feel that I ought to go to prison. Of course, I must go away. What
does it matter? Lady Linlithgow won't be exactly like you,"--and she
put her little hand upon Lady Fawn's fat arm caressingly, "and I
sha'n't have you all to spoil me; but I shall be simply waiting till
he comes. Everything now must be no more than waiting till he comes."
If it was to be that "he" would never come, this was very dreadful.
Amelia clearly thought that "he" would never come, and Lady Fawn was
apt to think her daughter wiser than herself. And if Mr. Greystock
were such as Mrs. Hittaway had described him to be,--if there were to
be no such coming as that for which Lucy fondly waited,--then there
would be reason ten-fold strong why she should not leave Fawn Court
and go to Lady Linlithgow. In such case,--when that blow should
fall,--Lucy would require very different treatment than might be
expected for her from the hands of Lady Linlithgow. She would fade
and fall to the earth like a flower with an insect at its root. She
would be like a wounded branch, into which no sap would run. With
such misfortune and wretchedness possibly before her, Lady Fawn could
not endure the idea that Lucy should be turned out to encounter it
all beneath the cold shade of Lady Linlithgow's indifference. "My
dear," she said, "let bygones be bygones. Come down and meet Lord
Fawn. Nobody will say anything. After all, you were provoked very
much, and there has been quite enough about it."
This, from Lady Fawn, was almost miraculous,--from Lady Fawn, to whom
her son had ever been the highest of human beings! But Lucy had told
the tale to her lover, and her lover approved of her going. Perhaps
there was acting upon her mind some feeling, of which she was hardly
conscious, that as long as she remained at Fawn Court she would not
see her lover. She had told him that she could make herself supremely
happy in the simple knowledge that he loved her. But we all know how
far such declarations should be taken as true. Of course, she was
longing to see him. "If he would only pass by the road," she would
say to herself, "so that I might peep at him through the gate!" She
had no formed idea in her own mind that she would be able to see
him should she go to Lady Linlithgow, but still there would be the
chances of her altered life! She would tell Lady Linlithgow the
truth, and why should Lady Linlithgow refuse her so rational a
pleasure? There was, of course, a reason why Frank should not come to
Fawn Court; but the house in Bruton Street need not be closed to him.
"I hardly know how to love you enough," she said to Lady Fawn, "but
indeed I must go. I do so hope the time may come when you and Mr.
Greystock may be friends. Of course, it will come. Shall it not?"
"Who can look into the future?" said the wise Amelia.
"Of course, if he is your husband, we shall love him," said the less
wise Lady Fawn.
"He is to be my husband," said Lucy, springing up. "What do you mean?
Do you mean anything?" Lady Fawn, who was not at all wise, protested
that she meant nothing.
What were they to do? On that special day they merely stipulated
that there should be a day's delay before Lady Fawn answered Mrs.
Greystock's letter,--so that she might sleep upon it. The sleeping on
it meant that further discussion which was to take place between Lady
Fawn and her second daughter in her ladyship's bed-room that night.
During all this period the general discomfort of Fawn Court was
increased by a certain sullenness on the part of Augusta, the elder
daughter, who knew that letters had come and that consultations were
being held,--but who was not admitted to those consultations. Since
the day on which poor Augusta had been handed over to Lizzie Eustace
as her peculiar friend in the family, there had always existed a
feeling that she, by her position, was debarred from sympathising in
the general desire to be quit of Lizzie; and then, too, poor Augusta
was never thoroughly trusted by that great guide of the family, Mrs.
Hittaway. "She couldn't keep it to herself if you'd give her gold to
do it," Mrs. Hittaway would say. Consequently Augusta was sullen and
conscious of ill-usage. "Have you fixed upon anything?" she said to
Lucy that evening.
"Not quite;--only I am to go away."
"I don't see why you should go away at all. Frederic doesn't come
here so very often, and when he does come he doesn't say much to any
one. I suppose it's all Amelia's doing."
"Nobody wants me to go, only I feel that I ought. Mr. Greystock
thinks it best."
"I suppose he's going to quarrel with us all."
"No, dear. I don't think he wants to quarrel with any one;--but above
all he must not quarrel with me. Lord Fawn has quarrelled with him,
and that's a misfortune,--just for the present."
"And where are you going?"
"Nothing has been settled yet; but we are talking of Lady
Linlithgow,--if she will take me."
"Lady Linlithgow! Oh dear!"
"Won't it do?"
"They say she is the most dreadful old woman in London. Lady Eustace
told such stories about her."
"Do you know, I think I shall rather like it."
But things were very different with Lucy the next morning. That
discussion in Lady Fawn's room was protracted till midnight, and then
it was decided that just a word should be said to Lucy, so that, if
possible, she might be induced to remain at Fawn Court. Lady Fawn was
to say the word, and on the following morning she was closeted with
Lucy. "My dear," she began, "we all want you to do us a particular
favour." As she said this, she held Lucy by the hand, and no one
looking at them would have thought that Lucy was a governess and that
Lady Fawn was her employer.
"Dear Lady Fawn, indeed it is better that I should go."
"Stay just one month."
"I couldn't do that, because then this chance of a home would be
gone. Of course, we can't wait a month before we let Mrs. Greystock
know."
"We must write to her, of course."
"And then, you see, Mr. Greystock wishes it." Lady Fawn knew that
Lucy could be very firm, and had hardly hoped that anything could
be done by simple persuasion. They had long been accustomed among
themselves to call her obstinate, and knew that even in her acts of
obedience she had a way of obeying after her own fashion. It was as
well, therefore, that the thing to be said should be said at once.
"My dear Lucy, has it ever occurred to you that there may be a slip
between the cup and the lip?"
"What do you mean, Lady Fawn?"
"That sometimes engagements take place which never become more than
engagements. Look at Lord Fawn and Lady Eustace."
"Mr. Greystock and I are not like that," said Lucy, proudly.
"Such things are very dreadful, Lucy, but they do happen."
"Do you mean anything;--anything real, Lady Fawn?"
"I have so strong a reliance on your good sense, that I will tell
you just what I do mean. A rumour has reached me that Mr. Greystock
is--paying more attention than he ought to do to Lady Eustace."
"His own cousin!"
"But people marry their cousins, Lucy."
"To whom he has always been just like a brother! I do think that is
the cruellest thing. Because he sacrifices his time and his money
and all his holidays to go and look after her affairs, this is to be
said of him! She hasn't another human being to look after her, and,
therefore, he is obliged to do it. Of course he has told me all about
it. I do think, Lady Fawn,--I do think that is the greatest shame I
ever heard!"
"But if it should be true--?"
"It isn't true."
"But just for the sake of showing you, Lucy--; if it was to be true."
"It won't be true."
"Surely I may speak to you as your friend, Lucy. You needn't be so
abrupt with me. Will you listen to me, Lucy?"
"Of course I will listen;--only nothing that anybody on earth could
say about that would make me believe a word of it."
"Very well! Now just let me go on. If it were to be so--"
"Oh-h, Lady Fawn!"
"Don't be foolish, Lucy. I will say what I've got to say. If--if--
Let me see. Where was I? I mean just this. You had better remain
here till things are a little more settled. Even if it be only a
rumour,--and I'm sure I don't believe it's anything more,--you had
better hear about it with us,--with friends round you, than with a
perfect stranger like Lady Linlithgow. If anything were to go wrong
there, you wouldn't know where to go for comfort. If anything were
wrong with you here, you could come to me as though I were your
mother.--Couldn't you, now?"
"Indeed, indeed I could! And I will;--I always will. Lady Fawn, I
love you and the dear darling girls better than all the world--except
Mr. Greystock. If anything like that were to happen, I think I should
creep here and ask to die in your house. But it won't. And just now
it will be better that I should go away."
It was found at last that Lucy must have her way, and letters were
written both to Mrs. Greystock and to Frank, requesting that the
suggested overtures might at once be made to Lady Linlithgow. Lucy,
in her letter to her lover, was more than ordinarily cheerful and
jocose. She had a good deal to say about Lady Linlithgow that was
really droll, and not a word to say indicative of the slightest fear
in the direction of Lady Eustace. She spoke of poor Lizzie, and
declared her conviction that that marriage never could come off now.
"You mustn't be angry when I say that I can't break my heart for
them, for I never did think that they were very much in love. As for
Lord Fawn, of course he is my--ENEMY!" And she wrote the word in big
letters. "And as for Lizzie,--she's your cousin, and all that. And
she's ever so pretty, and all that. And she's as rich as Croesus,
and all that. But I don't think she'll break her own heart. I would
break mine; only--only--only-- You will understand the rest. If it
should come to pass, I wonder whether 'the duchess' would ever let a
poor creature see a friend of hers in Bruton Street?" Frank had once
called Lady Linlithgow the duchess, after a certain popular picture
in a certain popular book, and Lucy never forgot anything that Frank
had said.
It did come to pass. Mrs. Greystock at once corresponded with Lady
Linlithgow, and Lady Linlithgow, who was at Ramsgate for her autumn
vacation, requested that Lucy Morris might be brought to see her at
her house in London on the 2nd of October. Lady Linlithgow's autumn
holiday always ended on the last day of September. On the 2nd of
October Lady Fawn herself took Lucy up to Bruton Street, and Lady
Linlithgow appeared. "Miss Morris," said Lady Fawn, "thinks it right
that you should be told that she's engaged to be married." "Who
to?" demanded the countess. Lucy was as red as fire, although she
had especially made up her mind that she would not blush when the
communication was made. "I don't know that she wishes me to mention
the gentleman's name, just at present; but I can assure you that he
is all that he ought to be." "I hate mysteries," said the countess.
"If Lady Linlithgow--" began Lucy. "Oh, it's nothing to me,"
continued the old woman. "It won't come off for six months, I
suppose?" Lucy gave a mute assurance that there would be no such
difficulty as that. "And he can't come here, Miss Morris." To this
Lucy said nothing. Perhaps she might win over even the countess, and
if not, she must bear her six months of prolonged exclusion from the
light of day. And so the matter was settled. Lucy was to be taken
back to Richmond, and to come again on the following Monday. "I don't
like this parting at all, Lucy," Lady Fawn said on her way home.
"It is better so, Lady Fawn."
"I hate people going away; but, somehow, you don't feel it as we do."
"You wouldn't say that if you really knew what I do feel."
"There was no reason why you should go. Frederic was getting not
to care for it at all. What's Nina to do now? I can't get another
governess after you. I hate all these sudden breaks up. And all for
such a trumpery thing. If Frederic hasn't forgotten all about it, he
ought."
"It hasn't come altogether from him, Lady Fawn."
"How has it come, then?"
"I suppose it is because of Mr. Greystock. I suppose when a girl has
engaged herself to marry a man she must think more of him than of
anything else."
"Why couldn't you think of him at Fawn Court?"
"Because--because things have been unfortunate. He isn't your
friend,--not as yet. Can't you understand, Lady Fawn, that, dear as
you all must be to me, I must live in his friendships, and take his
part when there is a part?"
"Then I suppose that you mean to hate all of us?" Lucy could only cry
at hearing this;--whereupon Lady Fawn also burst into tears.
On the Sunday before Lucy took her departure, Lord Fawn was again
at Richmond. "Of course, you'll come down,--just as if nothing had
happened," said Lydia. "We'll see," said Lucy. "Mamma will be very
angry if you don't," said Lydia.
But Lucy had a little plot in her head, and her appearance at the
dinner-table on that Sunday must depend on the manner in which her
plot was executed. After church, Lord Fawn would always hang about
the grounds for awhile before going into the house; and on this
morning Lucy also remained outside. She soon found her opportunity,
and walked straight up to him, following him on the path. "Lord
Fawn," she said, "I have come to beg your pardon."
He had turned round hearing footsteps behind him, but still was
startled and unready. "It does not matter at all," he said.
"It matters to me, because I behaved badly."
"What I said about Mr. Greystock wasn't intended to be said to you,
you know."
"Even if it was it would make no matter. I don't mean to think of
that now. I beg your pardon because I said what I ought not to have
said."
"You see, Miss Morris, that as the head of this family--"
"If I had said it to Juniper, I would have begged his pardon." Now
Juniper was the gardener, and Lord Fawn did not quite like the way in
which the thing was put to him. The cloud came across his brow, and
he began to fear that she would again insult him. "I oughtn't to
accuse anybody of an untruth,--not in that way; and I am very sorry
for what I did, and I beg your pardon." Then she turned as though she
were going back to the house.
But he stopped her. "Miss Morris, if it will suit you to stay with my
mother, I will never say a word against it."
"It is quite settled that I am to go to-morrow, Lord Fawn. Only for
that I would not have troubled you again."
Then she did turn towards the house, but he recalled her. "We will
shake hands, at any rate," he said, "and not part as enemies." So
they shook hands, and Lucy came down and sat in his company at the
dinner-table.