ANNAPLE'S AMBITION FALLEN.
'Well, how did you get on, Annaple?'
'Oh! very well, poor old man, on the whole, though it made one pity him
doubly that he chose to make as if he forgot everything, and you were
all gone on a picnic, taking me out for a long drive in the
afternoon--where we were least likely to meet any one--that I will say
for him.'
'Forgetting is not the best for him.'
'As if he could forget! But he was very nice and friendly, and put on
his best, most courteous self. I think he looks on me rather as a
protector from the solemn Mr. Edsall.'
'Surely Edsall treats him well. He was excellently recommended. You
know I saw his master's daughter.'
'Oh! only _too_ well. He takes the management of him as if he were
three years old, or a lunatic. He simply _will_ not be offended any
more than if he had to do with a baby.'
'What should offend him?'
'That Mr. Egremont greatly resents being allowed nothing but by what
Edsall calls medical sanction. He is too blind, you know, to venture
to pour out anything for himself, and besides, Edsall has all the drugs
under lock and key, and is coolness itself about any amount of
objurgations, such as I fancy go on sometimes.'
'Do you think he will stand it?'
'Who? Your uncle? Yes, I think he will. This man really makes him
more comfortable than poor Gregorio did.'
'Yes; Nuttie said she was sure that there was neglect, if not bullying
latterly. But he must miss Gregorio terribly. They had been together
for at least five-and-twenty or thirty years, and had plenty of gossip
together.'
'Whereas the present paternal despotism and appalling dignity and
gravity will keep him more dependent on his right congeners.'
'If they are of the right sort, that's all.'
'He has been making me read him a whole heap of letters; indeed, as you
know, I have been doing that all along, when he could not get Nuttie.
There were some from Mr. Bulfinch. Do you know that bailiff of his
must be next door to a swindler?'
'Bulfinch is coming up to see him to-morrow.'
'And, Mark, do you know, he has been putting out feelers as if to
discover whether we would do--what he asked us to do five years ago.'
'Would you?'
'If it were not for the children, and--and sometimes the extreme pinch,
I should say it was more like _life_ to work yourself up as a City
man,' said Annaple. 'If you were the Squire, with all his
opportunities, it would be a different thing, but there's no outlet
there, and I have often admired the wisdom of the Apocryphal saying,
"Make not thyself an underling to a foolish man."'
'Well, it is lucky you think so, Nannie, for though Dutton is certainly
not a foolish man, he will not want an underling. And what do you say
to my mother's proposal of having poor Poole to stay at Redcastle, and
borrowing baby to comfort her till she goes out again.
'I hate it,' said Annaple energetically. 'It is very horrid, but it is
awfully good of the Canoness; and I suppose we shall have to let it
come to pass, and miss all that most charming time of babyhood which is
coming. But most likely it will quite set the little woman up, and be
a real kindness to poor Poole.'
'If we could only keep her for good.'
'Yes, and then our children would not be half so much our own. I do
want to be away with them in our own quarters. I wonder when Nuttie
can spare us, but I should like to see her through the great crisis
with her father.'
That crisis was to involve more than Annaple in the least expected.
Nuttie found that the momentous confession could not possibly take
place before the interview with Mr. Bulfinch, at which her presence was
needed to help her father with his papers. The principal concern was
to show the full enormity of the bailiff, and decide upon the steps to
be taken, the solicitor being anxious for a prosecution, while a
certain tenderness for poor Gregorio's memory, or perhaps for the
exposure of his own carelessness, made Mr. Egremont reluctant. There
was also a proposal, brought forward with much diffidence from Mr.
Condamine's mother, to rent Bridgefield House, but on this, as well as
respecting a successor to the bailiff, Mr. Egremont was to give his
answer the next day, when Mr. Bulfinch would call again.
Nuttie was thankful for the business that had filled up the hour after
luncheon, when Alwyn used to play in the drawing-room and delight his
father; but she was feeling desperate to have the crisis over, and
resolved to speak when she went out driving with him. It was he,
however, who began. 'I sounded Mark's wife yesterday, Ursula. She is
a nice little thing enough, and a good wife in her way.'
'A very good wife.'
'Except when she persuaded him to turn up his nose at the agency. D'ye
think he would take it now, since he has tasted the sweets of his
umbrella business?' then, as Nuttie paused, taken by surprise; 'Five
hundred a year and the Home Farm would be better than, what is it, a
hundred and fifty and a floor over a warehouse! I don't like to see
old Will's son wearing himself out there, and the lad is a good honest
lad, with business habits, who would do justice to you after I am gone.'
'Father,' said Nuttie, trembling with the effort, 'I want you to do
something better than that. I want you to let Mark take the agency
with a view to himself--not me. Let him be as he would have been if he
had never hunted us up at Micklethwayte, and put me in his place.'
'Eh!' said Mr. Egremont. 'It is not entailed--worse luck; if it had
been, I should not have been bound to dance attendance at the heels of
such an old sinner as the General.'
'No, but it ought to go to the heir male, and keep in the old name.
Think--there have been Egremonts at Bridgefield for four hundred years!'
'Very pretty talk, but how will it be with you, Miss. We shall have
Fane, and I don't know how many more, coming after the scent of
Bridgefield now,' he said with a heavy sigh, ending with a bitter 'Hang
them all!'
'And welcome,' said Nuttie, answering the thought rather than the
words. 'Father, I wanted to tell you--'
'You don't mean that any one has been after you at such a time as
this!' he cried.
'It was before--I mean it was the evening when we were all so glad,
before we began to be afraid.'
'The umbrella man! By Jove!'
'And now,' went on Nuttie, in spite of the explosion, 'he would hardly
have ventured to go on with it but for this--I mean,' as her father
gave a little laugh of his unpleasant sort, 'he said it would be the
greatest possible relief, and make it all right for the property to go
to the heir male.'
'Hein! You think so, do you? See how it will be when I come to talk
to him! A shrewd fellow like that who got out of the Micklethwayte
concern just in time. Catch him giving up a place like that, though he
may humbug you.'
'Then you will see him, father?'
'If you turn him in on me, I can't help it. Bless me! umbrellas
everywhere! And here you mean to turn me over to the mercies of that
solemn idiot, Edsall. I should have been better off with poor
Gregorio.'
'No, father; Mr. Dutton would not take me from you. We would both try
all we could to make you comfortable.'
'Convert the old reprobate? Is that his dodge?'
'Don't, father,' for the sneering tone returned.
'Come now,' he added in a much more fatherly manner, for her voice had
struck him. 'You don't mean that a well-looking girl like you, who
could have her pick of all the swells in town, can really be smitten
with a priggish old retired umbrella-monger like that. Why, he might
be your father.'
'He has been getting younger ever since I knew him,' said Nuttie.
'Well. He plays as good a game of whist as any man in England,'
muttered Mr. Egremont, leaving his daughter in actual doubt whether he
meant this as a recommendation, or as expressing a distrust of him, as
one likely to play his cards to the best advantage. She had to remain
in doubt, for they overtook Clarence Fane, who came and spoke to them
in a very friendly and solicitous manner, and showed himself willing to
accept a lift in the carriage. Mr. Egremont, willing to escape from
perplexities as well as to endeavour to drive away if possible the
oppression of his grief, invited him in, and he had some gossip to
impart, which at first seemed to amuse the hearer after this time of
seclusion, but the sick and sore heart soon wearied of it, and long
before the drive was over, Mr. Egremont was as much bored as his
daughter had been from the first.
When Mr. Fane got out, he paused a moment to hold Ursula's hand in a
tender manner, while he told her that he had not ventured to intrude
(he had left a card of inquiry every day), but that if ever he could be
of the least use in amusing Mr. Egremont, he was at her service, and
would give up any engagement.
'Hein! my fine fellow! No doubt you would!' said Mr. Egremont, when
his daughter had uttered her cold thanks, and they had driven on. 'I
see your little game, but it is soon to begin it. We may as well let
them know that she is booked before the running begins.'
It was a remarkable intimation of his acceptance of her engagement, but
Ursula was contented to take it as such, and be thankful.
Mr. Dutton had his interview as soon as Mr. Egremont had rested after
his drive, and the result was satisfactory.
No doubt much was due to the Egremont indolence and want of energy,
which always preferred to let things take their course. And now that
Gregorio was no longer present to amuse, and take all trouble off his
hands, Mr. Egremont could hardly have borne to part with his daughter;
and, despite of umbrellas and religion, was not sorry to have a
perfectly trustworthy son-in-law in the house, able to play at cards
with him, manage his household, and obviate all trouble about suitors
for the heiress. Moreover, his better feelings were stirred by
gratitude on his poor little son's account, and he knew very well that
a more brilliant match for his daughter would not have secured for his
old age the care and attention he could rely upon here. He was obliged
likewise to believe in the disinterestedness, which disclaimed all
desire for the estate, as involving cares and duties for which there
had been no training; and he was actually glad to keep the property in
the direct line. The old liking for Mark, and sense of the hardship of
his exclusion, revived, strengthened now by regard for Annaple;
together with the present relief from care obtained by making him
manager of the estate.
When once brought to a point, Mr. Egremont was always sudden and
impetuous, chiefly for the sake of having it over and being unmolested
and at rest again. So that very evening, while Nuttie only ventured on
sharing with Annaple the glad tidings that Mr. Dutton was accepted, and
in his marvellous goodness, undertook to make his home with her father.
Mark was almost stunned by the news, confirmed to him by Mr. Dutton as
well as his uncle, that he was to be acknowledged as heir of
Bridgefield Egremont, and in the meantime manage the estate with an
income suitable to an oldest son.
Presently he came upstairs by himself, and beckoned to Nuttie, rather
to the alarm of his wife.
'Ursula,' he said, and took both her hands, 'I cannot have you do this
for me.'
'Can't you, Mark? You can't prevent it, you see. And don't you know
it is the beginning of all my happiness?'
'But indeed, I cannot feel it right. It is a strained sense of
justice. Come and tell her so, Nannie.'
'What?' said Annaple coming forward.
They both paused a moment, then Nuttie said, 'Only that the estate
ought to go in the male line.'
'Oh, is that all?' said Annaple, 'I was afraid Mr. Egremont had a fit!'
'Ah! Don't you see what it means,' said Mark. 'They want it to be as
if there were an entail--to begin treating me as an eldest son at once.
It is Ursula's doing, putting herself out of the succession.'
'I always hated being an heiress,' said Nuttie.
'It would be more dreadful than ever now. Annaple, do be sensible!
Don't you see it is the only right thing to do?'
'Billy!' was the one word Annaple said.
'Yes, Billy and Jenny and all,' said Nuttie, 'before you've all died of
your horrid place--Oh! you haven't heard that part of it. Of course
Mark will have to go down to Bridgefield and look after the place, and
live like a gentleman.'
'Eight hundred a year,' murmured Mark, 'and the house at the Home Farm.'
'Oh! dear,' gasped Annaple, 'I wanted you to be Lord Mayor, and now
you'll only be a stupid old country squire. No, no, Nuttie,
it's--it's--it's the sort of thing that one only laughs at because
otherwise one would have to do the other thing!'
And she gripped Nuttie tight round the waist, and laid her head on her
shoulder, shaking with a few little sobs, which might be one thing or
the other.
'It will save her youth, perhaps her life,' whispered Mark, lifting
Nuttie's hand to his lips for a moment, and then vanishing, while
Annaple recovered enough to say, 'I'm tougher than that, sir. But
little Jenny! Oh, Nuttie, I believe it has come in time. I've known
all along that one straw more might break the camel's back. We've been
very happy, but I am glad it is over before Mark got worn down before
his time. Grinding is very wholesome, but one may have too much; and I
haven't Mark's scruples, Nuttie dear, for I do think the place is more
in his line than yours or Mr. Dutton's.'
'Yes,' said Ursula, 'you see he was always happy there, and I never
was.'
The next thing was for Mr. Dutton and Ursula to keep Mr. Egremont up to
the point of making his long deferred will; nor did they find this so
difficult as they expected, for having once made up his mind, he wished
to have the matter concluded, and he gave his instructions to Bulfinch
the next day. Of course Mark had to give full notice to his employers;
but the allowance was to begin at once, so that Annaple only went back
to the warehouse to pack up, since she was to occupy No. 5, while Mr.
Egremont and his daughter were going under Mr. Dutton's escort to the
baths in Dauphine, an entirely new resort, free from the associations
he dreaded, for he could not yet bear the sight of little Willy--the
rival 'boy of Egremont.' But the will was safely signed before he
went, to the great relief of Nuttie, who, according to the experience
of fiction, could hardly believe his life safe till what she called
justice had been done.
After all Mr. Egremont became so dependent on Mr. Dutton, during this
journey, that he did not like the separation at its close, and pressed
on the marriage even sooner than either of the lovers felt quite
reverent towards the recent sorrow. He insisted on Bulfinch having the
settlements ready for them on their return, and only let them wait long
enough to keep their residence, before there was a very quiet wedding
in their parish church, with the cousins for bridesmaids. Then Mark
and Annaple took care of Mr. Egremont for the fortnight while Mr.
Dutton showed his wife his old haunts in France, returning to
Springfield House, where there was plenty of room for Mr. Egremont to
make his home with them.
Said Annaple to Miss Nugent, 'I never saw Nuttie so youthful and
bright. She is more like a girl than I ever saw her since the first.'
'Yes,' said Mary, 'she has some one to rest on now.'
Mr. Egremont lived between three and four years, more contented and
peaceful than he had ever been, though frequently suffering, and
sometimes giving way to temper and impatience. But Mr. Dutton
understood how to manage on these occasions, and without giving up his
own extensive usefulness, could give him such care, attention, and
amusement as beguiled his discomforts, and made his daughter's task an
easier one.
How far the sluggish enfeebled nature was capable of a touch of better
things, or whether his low spirits were repentance, no one could judge.
At any rate sneers had ended, and when he was laid beside his wife and
boy at Bridgefield, Ursula stood by the grave with a far more tender
and hopeful feeling than she could have thought possible when he had
rent her away from her old home. She looked up at her husband and said,
'Is not her work done?'
THE END.