Mr Brandon was not a weak man, nor one very susceptible to outside
influences, but, in the whole course of his life, nothing so
extraordinarily nerve-stirring had occurred to him as this visit of
old Mrs Keswick, endeavoring to appear in the character of the young
creature he had wooed some forty-five years before. For a long time,
Mrs Keswick had been the enemy of himself and his family; and many a
bitter onslaught she had made upon him, both by letter, and by word of
mouth. These he had borne with the utmost bravery and coolness, and
there were times when they even afforded him entertainment. But this
most astounding attack was something against which no man could have
been prepared; and Mr Brandon, suddenly pounced upon in the midst of
his comfortable bachelordom by a malevolent sorceress and hurled back
to the days of his youth, was shown himself kneeling, not at the feet
of a fair young girl, but before a horrible old woman.
This amazing and startling state of affairs was too much for him
immediately to comprehend. It stunned and bewildered him. Such,
indeed, was the effect upon him that the first act of his mind, when
he was left alone, and it began to act, was to ask of itself if there
were really any grounds upon which Mrs Keswick could, with any reason,
take up her position? The absolute absurdity of her position, however,
became more and more evident, as Mr Brandon's mind began to straighten
itself and stand up. And now he grew angry. Anger was a passion with
which he was not at all unfamiliar, and the exercise of it seemed to
do him good. When he had walked up and down his library for a quarter
of an hour, he felt almost like his natural self; and with many nods
of his head and shakes of his fist, he declared that the old woman was
crazy, and that he would bundle her home just as soon as he could.
By dinner-time he had cooled down a good deal, and he resolved to
treat her with the respect due to her age and former condition of
sanity; but to take care that she should not again be alone with him,
and to arrange that she should return to her home that day.
Mrs Keswick came to the table with a smiling face, and wearing a
close-fitting white cap, which looked like a portion of her night
gear, tied under her chin with broad, stiff strings. In this she
appeared to her host as far more hideous than when wearing her
sun-bonnet. Mr Brandon had arranged that two servants should wait upon
the table, so that one of them should always be in the room, but in
his supposition that the presence of a third person would have any
effect upon the expression of Mrs Keswick's fond regard, he was
mistaken. The meal had scarcely begun, when she looked around the room
with wide-open eyes, and exclaimed: "Robert, if we should conclude
to remain here, I think we will have this room re-papered with some
light-colored paper. I like a light dining-room. This is entirely too
dark."
The two servants, one of whom was our old friend, Peggy, actually
stopped short in their duties at this remark; and as for Mr Brandon,
his appetite immediately left him, to return no more during that meal.
He was obliged to make some answer to this speech, and so he briefly
remarked that he had no desire to alter the appearance of his
dining-room, and then hastened to change the conversation by making
some inquiries about that interesting young woman, her niece, who, he
had been informed, was not a married lady, as he had supposed her to
be.
At this intelligence, Peggy dropped two spoons and a fork; she had
never heard it before.
"The late Mrs Null," said Mrs Keswick, "is a young woman who likes to
cut her clothes after her own patterns. They may be becoming to her
when they are made up, or they may not be. But I am inclined to think
she has got a pretty good head on her shoulders, and perhaps she
knows what suits her as well as any of us. I can't say it was easy to
forgive the trick she played on me, her own aunt, and just the same,
in fact, as her mother. But Robert," and as she said this the old lady
laid down her knife and fork, and looked tenderly at Mr Brandon, "I
have determined to forgive everybody, and to overlook everything,
and I do this as much for your sake, dear Robert, as for my own. It
wouldn't do for a couple of our age to be keeping up grudges against
the young people for their ways of getting out of marriages or getting
into them. We will have my niece and her husband here sometimes, won't
we, Robert?"
Mr Brandon straightened himself and remarked: "Mr Croft, whom I have
heard your niece is to marry, will be quite welcome here, with his
wife." Then, putting his napkin on the table, and pushing back his
chair, he said: "Now, madam, you must excuse me, for I have orders to
give to some of my people which I had forgotten until this moment. But
do not let me interfere with your dinner. Pray continue your meal."
Never before had Mr Brandon been known to leave his dinner until he
had finished it, and he was not at all accustomed to give such a poor
reason for his actions as the one he gave now, but it was simply
impossible for him to sit any longer at table, and have that old woman
talk in that shocking manner before the servants.
"Robert," cried Mrs Keswick, as he left the room, "I'll save some
dessert for you, and we'll eat it together."
Mr Brandon's first impulse, when he found himself out of the
dining-room, was to mount his horse and ride away; but there was no
place to which he wished to ride; and he was a man who was very loath
to leave the comforts of his home. "No," he said. "She must go, and
not I." And then he went into his parlor, and strode up and down. As
soon as Mrs Keswick had finished her dinner, he would see her there,
and speak his mind to her. He had determined that he would not again
be alone with her, but, since the presence of others was no restraint
whatever upon her, it had become absolutely necessary that he should
speak with her alone.
It was not long before the Widow Keswick, with a brisk, blithe step,
entered the parlor. "I couldn't eat without you, Robert," she cried,
"and so I really haven't half finished my dinner. Did you have to come
in here to speak to your people?"
Mr Brandon stepped to the door, and closed it. "Madam," he said, "it
will be impossible for me, in the absence of my niece, to entertain
you here to-night, and so it would be prudent for you to start for
home as soon as possible, as the days are short. It would be too much
of a journey for your horse to go back again to-day, and your vehicle
is an open one; therefore I have ordered my carriage to be prepared,
and you may trust my driver to take you safely home, even if it should
be dark before you get there. If you desire it, there is a young
maid-servant here who will go with you."
"Robert," said Mrs Keswick, approaching the old gentleman and gazing
fondly upward at him, "you are so good, and thoughtful, and sweet. But
you need not put yourself to all that trouble for me. I shall stay
here to-night, and in your house, dear Robert, I can take care of
myself a great deal better than any lady could take care of me."
"Madam," exclaimed Mr Brandon, "I want you to stop calling me by my
first name. You have no right to do so, and I won't stand it."
"Robert," said the old lady, looking at him with an air of tender
upbraiding, "you forget that I am yours, now, and forever."
Never, since he had arrived at man's estate, and probably not before,
had Mr Brandon spoken in improper language to a lady, but now it was
all he could do to restrain himself from the ejaculation of an oath,
but he did restrain himself, and only exclaimed: "Confound it, madam,
I cannot stand this! Why do you come here, to drive me crazy with your
senseless ravings?"
"Robert," said Mrs Keswick, very composedly "I do not wonder that my
coming to you and accepting the proposals which you once so heartily
made to me, and from which you have never gone back, should work a
good deal upon your feelings. It is quite natural, and I expected it.
Therefore don't hesitate about speaking out your mind; I shall not be
offended. So that we belong to each other for the rest of our days, I
don't mind what you say now, when it is all new and unexpected to you.
You and I have had many a difference of opinion, Robert, and your
plans were not my plans. But things have turned out as you wished, and
you have what you have always wanted; and with the other good things,
Robert, you can take me." And, as she finished speaking, she held out
both hands to her companion.
With a stamp of his foot, and a kick at a chair which stood in his
way, Mr Brandon precipitately left the room, and slammed the door
after him; and if Peggy had not nimbly sprung to one side, he would
have stumbled over her, and have had a very bad fall for a man of his
age.
It was not ten minutes after this, that, looking out of a window, Mrs
Keswick saw a saddled horse brought into the back yard. She hastened
into the hall, and found Peggy. "Run to Mr Brandon," she said, "and
bid him good-bye for me. I am going up stairs to get ready to go home,
and haven't, time to speak to him, myself, before he starts on his
ride."
At the receipt of this message the heart of Mr Brandon gave a bound
which actually helped him to get into the saddle, but he did not
hesitate in his purpose of instant departure. If he staid, but for
a moment, she might come out to him, and change her mind, so he put
spurs to his horse and galloped away, merely stopping long enough, as
he passed the stables, to give orders that the carriage be prepared
for Mrs Keswick, and taken round to the front.
As he rode through the cool air of that fine November afternoon, the
spirits of Mr Brandon rose. He felt a serene satisfaction in assuring
himself that, although he had been very angry, indeed, with Mrs
Keswick, on account of her most unheard of and outrageous conduct, yet
he had not allowed his indignation to burst out against her in any way
of which he would afterward be ashamed. Some hasty words had escaped
him, but they were of no importance, and, under the circumstances, no
one could have avoided speaking them. But, when he had addressed her
at any length, he had spoken dispassionately and practically, and she,
being at bottom a practical woman, had seen the sense of his advice,
and had gone home comfortably in his carriage. Whether she took her
insane fancies home with her, or dropped them on the road, it mattered
very little to him, so that he never saw her again; and he did not
intend to see her again. If she came again to his house, he would
leave it and not return until she had gone; but he had no reason to
suppose that he would be forced into any such exceedingly disagreeable
action as this. He did not believe she would ever come back. For,
unless she were really crazy--crazy--and in that case she ought to be
put in the lunatic asylum--she could not keep up, for any length of
time, the extraordinary and outrageous delusion that he would be
willing to renew the feelings that he had entertained for her in her
youth.
Mr Brandon rode until nearly dark, for it took a good while to free
his mind from the effects of the excitements and torments of that day.
But, when he entered the house and took his seat in his library chair
by the fire, he had almost regained his usual composed and well
satisfied frame of mind.
Then, through the quietly opened door, came Mrs Keswick, and
stealthily stepping towards him in the fitful light of the blazing
logs, she put her hand on his arm and said: "Dear Robert, how glad I
am to see you back!"
The next morning, about ten o'clock, Mrs Keswick sent her eighteenth
or twentieth message to Mr Brandon, who had shut himself up in his
room since a little before supper-time on the previous evening. The
message was sent by Peggy, and she was instructed to shout it outside
of her master's door until he took notice of it. Its purport was that
it was necessary that Mrs Keswick should go home to-day, and that her
horse was harnessed and she was now ready to go, but that she could
not think of leaving until she had seen Mr Brandon again. She would
therefore wait until he was ready to come down.
Mr Brandon looked out of the window and saw the spring-wagon at the
outside of the broad stile, with Plez standing at the sorrel's head.
He remembered that the venerable demon had said, at the first, that
she intended to stay but one night, and he could but believe that she
was now really going. Knowing her as he did, however, he was very well
aware that if she had said she would not leave until she had seen him,
she would stay in his house for a year, unless he sooner went down to
her; therefore he opened his door, and slowly and feebly descended the
stairs.
"My dear, dear Robert!" exclaimed Mrs Keswick, totally regardless of
the fact that Peggy was standing at the front door with her valise in
her hand, and that there was another servant in the hall, "how pale,
and haggard, and worn you look! You must be quite unwell, and I don't
know but that I ought to stay here and take care of you."
At these words a look of agony passed over the old man's face, but he
said nothing.
"But I am afraid I cannot stay any longer this time," continued the
Widow Keswick, "for my niece would not know what had become of me, and
there are things at home that I must attend to; but I will come again.
Don't think I intend to desert you, dear Robert. You shall see me soon
again. But while I am gone," she said, turning to the two servants, "I
want you maids to take good care of your master. You must do it for
his sake, for he has always been kind to you, but I also want you
to do it for my sake. Don't you forget that. And now, dear Robert,
good-bye." As she spoke, she extended her hand towards the old
gentleman.
Without a word, but with a good deal of apparent reluctance, he took
the long, bony hand in his, and probably, would have instantly dropped
it again, had not Mrs Keswick given him a most hearty clutch, and a
vigorous and long-continued shake.
"It is hard, dear Robert," she said, "for us to part, with nothing but
a hand-shake, but there are people about, and this will have to
do." And then, after urging him to take good care of his health, so
valuable to them both, and assuring him that he would soon see her
again, she gave his hand a final shake, and left him. Accompanied by
Peggy, she went out to the spring-wagon and clambered into it. It
almost surpasses belief that Mr Brandon, a Virginia gentleman of the
old school, should have stood in his hall, and have seen an old lady
leave his house and get into a vehicle, without accompanying and
assisting her; but such was the case on this occasion. He seemed to
have forgotten his traditions, and to have lost his impulses. He
simply stood where the Widow Keswick had left him, and gazed at her.
When she was seated, and ready to start, the old lady turned towards
him, called out to him in a cheery voice: "Good-bye, Robert!" and
kissed her hand to him.
Mrs Keswick slowly drove away, and Mr Brandon stood at his hall
door, gazing after her until she was entirely out of sight. Then he
ejaculated: "The Devil's daughter!" and went into his library.
"I wonders," said Peggy when she returned to the kitchen, "how you
all's gwine to like habin dat ole Miss Keswick libin h'yar as you
all's mistiss."
"Who's gwine to hab her?" growled Aunt Judy.
"You all is," sturdily retorted Peggy. "Dar ain't no use tryin' to git
out ob dat. Dat old Miss Keswick done gone an' kunjered Mahs' Robert,
an' dey's boun' to git mar'ed. I done heered all 'bout it, an' she's
comin' h'yar to lib wid Mahs' Robert. But dat don' make no dif'rence
to me. I's gwine to lib wid Mahs' Junius an' Miss Rob in New York, I
is. But I's mighty sorry for you all."
"You Peggy," shouted the irate Aunt Judy, "shut up wid your fool talk!
When Mahs' Robert marry dat ole jimpsun weed, de angel Gabr'el blow
his hohn, shuh."
Slowly driving along the road to her home, the Widow Keswick gazed
cheerfully at the blue sky above her, and the pleasant autumn scenery
around her; sniffed the fine fresh air, delicately scented with the
odor of falling leaves; and settling herself into a more comfortable
position on her seat, she complacently said to herself: "Well, I
reckon the old scapegrace has got his money's worth this time!"