PEGASUS IN HARNESS.
'Fear not on that rugged high-way
Life may want its lawful zest,
Sunny glens are on the mountain,
Where the weary heart may rest.'
_Charles Gavan Duffy._
There was much relief and comfort in that visit of Mr. Audley's. For
one thing, Geraldine was able to pour out all her troubles, as she had
been used to do ever since her father had left her in his charge--her
repentance for the stirrings of her naturally fretful, plaintive
temper, for her fits of impatience and her hard judgments, and, what
surprised him chiefly, for jealousy.
'Yes,' she repeated, at his word of surprise, 'I am jealous!'
'Indeed!'
'I never knew it till the choral festival. I used to be very fond of
her, but--I'm sure it is jealousy; I don't like to see her more eagerly
attended to than myself. Not that there is anything to complain of. He
never neglected me in his life.'
Mr. Audley smiled. 'People would tell you it is the natural lot of
sisters.'
Then she saw that he knew all about it; for, in fact, Felix had, rather
to the general surprise, observed that the Miss Pearsons would like
to meet Mr. Audley, and the trio had spent a musical evening with the
Underwood party.
'Oh,' she cried, 'is it all my own horridness? Or is it really--'
'My own horridness or my own discernment?' said he, taking the words
out of her mouth. 'My dear, such an affair as this would be generally
the family jest.'
'Oh!'
'It is just as well it should not be so here,' continued Mr. Audley,
'for nonsense is not always a cure, and the talk would be mischievous;
besides, I think both are unconscious.'
'He is, I believe,' said Cherry.
'At any rate, he is more than ordinarily full of sense and
self-control, and may safely be trusted to do nothing imprudent. She
is pretty and attractive, and of course he likes to be with her; but
I should think it very unlikely it would go farther. Has any one else
observed it?'
'Not Wilmet, only Lance.'
'And has not made fun of it? That speaks well for Master Lance's
discretion. Yet you all feel the weight of life too heavily. I had
rather have found you amused by these little prepossessions, than
weighing them seriously, and wearing yourself to fritters.'
'I _will_ try not to mind, but I can't help being afraid for him! It
must be very wrong to be almost turned against her because he likes
her; and yet, what is all very well as my friend does not seem enough
for Felix.'
'Nor will it be. My dear Cherry, such things come on and go off twenty
times in a man's life. You will treat the symptoms more lightly before
you have done with your seven brothers. Meantime, don't fret your
conscience over fancies, unless you have spoken or acted unkindly or
fretfully.'
'O Mr. Audley, what shall I do when you are quite gone? All this time I
have felt as if I were without my pilot.'
Mr. Audley, too, had been thinking this over, and wished to put her
more formally under the spiritual charge of Mr. Willoughby of St.
Faith's, feeling that the morbid and sensitive nature needed external
support, and that it was not right to deprive it of what the Church
sanctions.
Her only doubt was Felix's approval. His nature did not readily accept
progress beyond that to which he had been bred up; and in border
lands like these, an unfavourable medium made much difference to the
clearness of the sight. Clement's contempt for what had satisfied his
father annoyed him; and his mind was self-reliant, his soul accustomed
to find its requirements met by the system around him, and his
character averse to intermeddling; so that it was against the grain
with him that spiritual guidance should be sought outside the family,
or, at any rate, outside the parish. He thought such direction weakened
the nature; and Mr. Audley, after warning him against taking the
disease for the effect of the remedy, had to laugh at him as a British
householder. After all, he yielded, because he thought Mr. Audley had
a certain right over Geraldine, and that it was proper to defer to his
judgment; while his guardian trusted to a sight of St. Matthew's for
the overthrowal of the prejudices that Clement had managed to excite.
Before leaving England, Mr. Audley was resolved that little Theodore
should be shown to some London physician. The child was five years
old, but looked no more than three. He could totter in an uncertain
run, and understood a few simple sentences, but came no nearer to
language than the appropriation of a musical sound to every one whom
he knew. There was nothing unpleasant about him, except his constant
purring and humming; he was perfectly docile, loved music, and could
be amused by simple recurring games. His affections seemed to have
gone out chiefly to Felix and to Sibby; and as to his twin-sister, he
seemed lost without her, and she seemed to view him as the complement
of herself--like a sort of left hand, giving him things to hold in his
feeble grasp, saying her lessons to him, and talking as if to a doll.
There was something sad in the very resemblance; for their eyes were of
the same shade of deep blue, their long soft hair of the same flaxen
tint, their faces equally fair; but while hers was all colour, light,
and life, his was pale and vacant, and scarcely ever stirred into
expression.
Mr. Audley thought it right to ascertain whether treatment could be of
any use; and finding that his father's London house was only occupied
by his brother the Captain, he arranged that Felix should come up to
town with the child and Sibby, when the law business could be arranged,
and there would be an opportunity of his seeing something of the world.
He had never had a holiday before, and Mr. Froggatt rivalled his
guardian in his desire that it should not be too short. The first call
was by appointment on the doctor. He was not used to have patients like
Theodore brought by youths of Felix's age, and was touched by the care
and tenderness of the young man, as he tried to overcome the alarm that
was rendering the little one impracticable, when it was desirable to
exhibit his slender store of accomplishments. His nearest approach to
his natural state was when perched on his brother's knee, with his back
to the strange faces, listening as Felix whistled the tunes he loved
best.
After all, little was gained by the consultation, except the assurance
that the poor little fellow was as well situated as was possible. A few
directions for treatment and discipline were given, but very little
hope was held out of any important change for the better.
The verdict disappointed Felix to an extent that surprised Mr.
Audley, who had better understood the hopelessness of the case. Of
all the family, Felix had the most of the parental instinct for the
most helpless; and while he warmly thanked his friend, he looked so
mournfully at the child who clung to him, that Mr. Audley said in a
voice of sympathy, 'It is a burthen, but one that will never bring the
sting of sin.'
'Not a burthen,' said Felix. 'No; as my father said when he gave him to
me, he is the Gift of God, the son of my right hand. May it always be
able to work for you!' he murmured, as he bent his head over the little
one.
'And I think the gift will bring a blessing!' said Mr. Audley.
Theodore was sent home with Sibby, thus restoring Stella to herself,
for she had been greatly lost without her speechless companion; but
Felix remained in London for a week of business and pleasure. Captain
Audley was very good-natured and friendly, and abetted his brother
in all his arrangements for showing Felix as much of life as was
possible in a week, assuring him that every new experience was a duty
to the Pursuivant--a plea that Felix, with his lover-like devotion
to every detail of his paper, admitted with a smile. Edgar was of
almost all their expeditions, and dined with them nearly every day.
That young gentleman's peculiar pleasantness had very nearly averted
the remonstrances with which his brother and his guardian had come up
armed. There he was, finding his work real, and not a royal road to
immediate wealth, idling, lounging, and gratifying his taste for art
and music; and when his employer stormed and threatened, listening
with aggravating coolness, and even sweetness, merely hinting that
his occupation was a mistake; and living all the time as a son of
the house, with a handsome allowance, and free access to society
and amusement. Thus, when Mr. Audley talked to him, he smiled with
a certain resignation, and observed that he was concerned for poor
old Tom, to have been unlucky enough to have drawn such a fellow as
himself. Probably it was a judgment on him for not having come forward
sooner, when he _might_ have had Felix! And when Mr. Audley upheld
Felix as an example of hearty sacrifice of taste and inclination, it
was to obtain an enthusiastic response. Nobody breathed equal to dear
old Fee, and it was the most ardent desire of Edgar's heart to take
some of the burthen from his shoulders! When it was hinted that such an
allowance as Tom Underwood gave afforded the opportunity, Edgar smiled
between melancholy and scorn, saying, 'Times must have altered since
your time, Mr. Audley.--No, I forgot. Expense is the rule in our line.
Swells can do as they please.'
However, there things rested; Mr. Underwood treated him exactly like an
idle son, storming at him sometimes, but really both fond and proud of
him, and very gracious to Felix, whom he invited once to a very dull
and dazzling dinner, and once sent to the opera with his ladies.
Felix's Sunday was chiefly spent at St. Matthew's, which he was
very glad to see without Tina's spectacles. He was amazed to find
so much more good sense and reality than the effect on Clement had
led him to expect; and Mr. Fulmort, who struck him as one of the
most practical-looking men he had ever seen, spoke in high terms of
Clement's steadiness and wish to do right; but added, 'I am afraid we
have rather spoilt him. He came up to us so unlike the kind of boy we
generally get, that we may have made rather too much of him at first.'
Felix smiled. 'Perhaps we had knocked him about, and made too little of
him at home,' he said.
'Besides, _esprit de corps_ in so small a place as this is apt to
become so concentrated as not to be many removes from egotism. I
daresay we have been a terrible bore to you.'
Felix laughed. 'We have always been very grateful to you, Sir.'
'I understand. I am glad he is going farther a-field. He will be much
improved by seeing other places, and having his exclusiveness and
conceit shaken out of him; but we shall always regard him as the child
of the house, and I only hope he may end by working among us.'
'Poor fellow! Conceit has been pretty well shaken out for the present,'
said Felix.
'I hope it may last. He was rather hurt at my not making his misfortune
of more importance: but it seems to have been accident, all except the
priggish self-confidence that led to it.'
Felix increased much in cordiality towards Mr. Fulmort, and at the same
time mounted many stages in Clement's estimation on the discovery that,
however behindhand his ecclesiastical advantages might be, the Vicar
was exceedingly impressed by his excellence.
A day or two after Felix's arrival, Ferdinand Travis was first
encountered riding a spirited horse in the park, looking remarkably
handsome, though still of the small-limbed slender make that recalled
his Indian blood. His delight in the meeting was extreme, and he seemed
to be as simple and good as ever. He was in deep mourning, having newly
heard of his father having been killed in an American railway accident;
and though his uncle seemed proud of him, and continued his liberal
allowance, the loss and blank were greatly felt--all the more that
he had not found it easy to make friends among his brother officers
in the Life Guards. His foreign air was somehow uncongenial; he had
no vivacity or cleverness, and being little inclined to some of the
amusements of his contemporaries, and on his guard against others, he
seemed to find his life rather dull and weary. He did not seem to have
anything to love except his horses, especially the creature he was
then riding, Brown Murad. He had obtained it after such competition,
that he viewed the purchase as an achievement; while Felix heard the
amount with an incredulous shudder, and marvelled at Mr. Audley's not
regarding it as wildly preposterous. It was a dangerous position; and
though Mr. Audley certified himself, through his soldier brother, that
Travis was steadiness itself--neither betted, gamed, nor ran into
debt--yet while he seemed personally acquainted with all the horses
that ran, and apparently entered into no literature but the 'Racing
Calendar,' it was impossible not to be anxious about him, even though
he seemed perfectly happy to be allowed to be with his two godfathers,
and followed them everywhere, from the Houses of Parliament to St.
Matthew's.
This was not the last expedition Felix had to make to London that
spring. After many appointments of the time, and as many delays, a
telegram suddenly summoned him in the beginning of May to bring Fulbert
up to London, when the business would be wound up, and Captain Audley
would take his brother and the boy in his yacht to Alexandria, there to
join the overland passengers.
So Fulbert's farewells were made in the utmost haste, and mixed up
with Wilmet's solicitous directions for his proper use of all her
preparations for his comfort on the voyage; and Lance could only be
seen for the brief moments of halt at the Minsterham Station, during
which neither spoke three words, but Lance hung on the step till the
train was in motion, and then was snatched back, and well shaken and
reprimanded, by a guard; while Fulbert leant out after him at even
greater peril of his life, long after the last wave of the trencher cap
had ceased to be visible.
Felix believed that this parting was more felt than that with all the
other eleven; and while Fulbert subsided into his corner, the elder
brother felt much oppressed by the sense that it was his duty to give
some good advice, together with great perplexity what it should be,
how it should be expressed, and whether it would be endured. He would
have been thankful for some of Clement's propensity for preaching when
he found himself _tête-à-tête_ with Fulbert in a cab; but while he was
still considering of the right end by which to take this difficult
subject, he was startled by his beginning, 'Felix, I say, I'm glad you
are going to get shut of me.'
'I believe it is for your good,' said Felix.
'You'll get on better without me,' repeated Fulbert; then, with an
effort, 'Look here. It isn't that I don't know you're a brick and all
that, but somehow nothing riles me like your meddling with me.'
'I know it,' answered Felix. 'I wish I could have helped it; but what
could be done, when there was nobody else?'
'Ay,' responded Fulbert, 'I know I have been a sulky, nasty brute to
you, and I should do it again; and yet I wish I hadn't.'
'I should be as bad myself if I were a junior,' was the moral
reflection Felix produced for his brother's benefit. 'Only, Ful, if you
try that on with Mr. Audley out there, you'll come to grief.'
'I don't mean to,' said Fulbert.
'And you'll keep in mind what my father meant us to be, Ful--that we
have got to live so as to meet him again.'
Fulbert nodded his head emphatically.
'It is his name you have to keep unstained in the new country,' added
Felix, the fresh thought rising to his lips; but it was met by a gush
of feeling that quite astonished him.
'Ay, and yours, Felix! I do--I do want to be a help, and not a drag to
you. I _really_ don't think so much of any of them--not even Lance--as
of you. I _hope_ I shouldn't have been better to my father than I have
been to you; and when--when I'm out there, I do hope to show--that I do
care.'
The boy was fighting with very hard sobs, and for all the frightful
faces he made the tears were running down his cheeks. Felix's eyes were
overflowing too, but with much of sudden comfort and thankfulness.
'I always knew you were a good fellow, Ful,' he said, with his hand on
his brother's knee; 'and I think you'll keep so, with Mr. Audley to
keep you up to things, and show you how to be helped.'
All after this was bustle and hurry. Fulbert had to be sent alone to
take leave of Alda, while his brother and Mr. Audley transacted their
business. Edgar came back with him; and after some hurried rushings out
in search of necessaries forgotten, the last farewells were spoken, and
Fulbert, with the two Audley brothers, was out of sight; while Felix,
after drawing a long, deep sigh, looked at his watch, and spoke of
going to see Alda.
'Don't run your head into a hornet's nest,' said Edgar; 'it's all up
with me there. Come this way, and I'll tell you all about it.'
'All up with you!'
'There are limits to human endurance, and Tom and I have over-passed
each other's. I don't blame him, poor man; he wanted raw material to
serve as an importer of hides and tallow, but you, the genuine article,
were bespoken, and my father was not in a state for the pleading of
personal predilections.'
'What is it now?'
'Only a set of etchings from Atalanta in Caledon. That was the straw
that broke the camel's back,' said Edgar, so coolly as to make Felix
exclaim--
'How much or how little do you mean?'
'Separated on account of irreconcilable incompatibility.'
'Impossible!'
'Possible, because true.'
'Why did you not tell before Mr. Audley was gone?'
'It would have been bad taste to obtrude one's own little affairs, and
leave him with vexatious intelligence to ruminate on his voyage. Nay,
who knows but that he might have thought it his duty to wait to compose
matters, and so a bright light might have been lost to the Antipodes.'
'You actually mean me to understand that you have broken with Tom
Underwood!'
'The etchings were the text of an awful row, in which the old gentleman
exposed himself more than I am willing to repeat, and called on me to
choose between his hides and tallow and what he was pleased to call my
tomfoolery.'
Felix groaned.
'Exactly so. You are conscious that his demand was not only tyrannical
but impracticable. One can't change the conditions of one's nature.'
'Are you absolutely dismissed?'
'Nothing can be more so.'
'And what do you mean to do?' demanded Felix, stung, though to a
certain degree reassured, by his tranquillity.
'Study art.'
'And live--?'
'On my own two hundred. You will advance it? I only want sixteen months
of years of discretion, and then I'll pay it back with more than
interest.'
'I must know more first,' said Felix. 'I must understand what terms
you are on with Tom Underwood, and whether you have any reasonable or
definite plans.'
'Spoken like an acting partner! Well, come to Renville, he will satisfy
you as to my plans. I am to be his pupil; he teaches at the South
Kensington Museum, and is respectability itself. In fact, he requires
my responsible brother to be presented to him. Come along.'
'Stay, Edgar. I do not think it right by Tom Underwood to see any one
before him. I shall go to him before anything else is done.'
'Do not delude yourself with the hope of patching up matters like
Audley last winter, losing me five months of time and old Tom of
temper.'
'How long ago was this?'
'The crisis was yesterday. I was just packing to come home when Fulbert
burst upon the scene.'
Nothing could be worse news, yet Edgar's perfect self-possession
greatly disarmed Felix. Never having thought his brother and the work
well suited, he was the less disposed to anger, especially as the
yoke of patronage was trying to his character; but he persisted in
seeing Thomas Underwood before taking any steps for Edgar's future
career, feeling that this was only due to the cousin to whom his
father had entrusted the lad. So Edgar, with a shrug, piloted him to
the Metropolitan Railway, and then to the counting-house where, in the
depths of the City, Kedge and Underwood dealt for the produce of the
corrals of South America.
Edgar, as he entered the office full of clerks, nodded to their
bald-headed middle-aged senior in a half-patronizing manner. 'Don't be
afraid, Mr. Spooner; I'm not coming back on your hands, whatever this
good brother of mine may intend. Is the Governor in?'
'Mr. Underwood is in his room, Mr. Edgar,' was the very severe answer;
'but after this most serious annoyance, I would not answer for the
consequences.'
'Wouldn't you indeed?' said Edgar quietly, in a nonchalant tone that
made the younger lads bend down to sniggle behind their desks, while he
moved on to the staircase.
Mr. Spooner and he were visibly old foes; but the senior devoured his
wrath so far as to come forward and offer a chair to Felix, repeating,
however, 'Mr. Underwood is very seriously annoyed.'
Before Felix could attempt an answer, Edgar had re-descended, newspaper
in hand. 'Go up, Felix,' he said, threw himself into the chair,
and proceeded to read the paper; while Felix obeyed, and found the
principal standing at his door, ready to meet him.
'What, Felix Underwood! Glad to see you. This intolerable affair can't
have brought you up already, though?'
'No, Sir; I was telegraphed for late last night, to bring up my brother
Fulbert to start with Mr. Audley.'
'Oh, ay. Well, I hope he'll have a better bargain of him than I've had
in Edgar. You've heard his impudence?'
'I am exceedingly sorry--'
Then Mr. Underwood broke out with his account of Edgar's folly and
ingratitude, after all the care and expense of his education. He had
taken up with a set of geniuses for friends, was always rehearsing for
amateur performances with them, keeping untimely hours; and coming
late to the office, to cast up accounts, or copy invoices in his
sleep, make caricatures on his blotting-paper, or still worse, become
'besotted' with some design for a drawing or series of drawings, and
in the frenzy of execution know no more what was said to him than a
post. Finally, 'the ladies' being as mad as himself, as Mr. Underwood
said, had asked him to draw for a bazaar, and in his frenzy of genius
over the etchings he had entirely forgotten an important message, and
then said he could not help it. On being told that if so he was not fit
for his profession, he merely replied, 'Exactly so, the experiment had
been unsuccessful;' and when his meekness had brought down a furious
tempest of wrath, and threats of dismissal, he had responded, 'with his
intolerable cool insolence,' that 'this would be best for all parties.'
'This is the offence?' anxiously asked Felix.
'Offence? What greater offence would you have?'
'Certainly nothing can be much worse as to business,' said Felix.
'But when he told me what had happened, I was afraid that he might be
running into temptation.'
'Oh! as to that, there's no harm in the lad--Spooner allows that--
nothing low about him.'
'And his friends?'
'How should I know? Raffs those fellows always are, sure to bring him
to the dogs!'
'Did you ever hear of an artist named Renville?'
'Ay?' meditatively. 'He was the master the girls had at one time,
wasn't he?'
'Then he is respectable? I ask because Edgar wants to study under him.'
'Eh! what?' demanded Mr. Underwood, in manifest astonishment. 'Is the
lad gone crazy?'
'I thought you had dismissed him, Sir.'
'Well, well,' said Mr. Underwood, taken aback, 'I told him only what he
deserved, and he chose to take it as final. I thought you were come to
speak for him.'
'You are very kind, Sir, but I doubt whether he would resume his work
here, or indeed if it would not be an abuse of your kindness to induce
him.'
'Eh! what?' again exclaimed Thomas. 'You give in to his ungrateful
folly! Felix Underwood, I thought you at least were reasonable!'
The imperious passionate manner, rather than the actual words,
made Felix side the more with the wayward genius, and feel that
having sacrificed himself for the good of the family, he might save
his brother from the gloomy office and piles of ledgers and bills
below-stairs. 'Sir,' he said, 'I am sorry Edgar has not been better
fitted to return the timely help you have given us, but I am afraid
that such unwilling work as his could never be of service to you.'
'Why on earth should it be unwilling? Better men than he have sat
at a desk before now! I've no patience with young men's intolerable
conceit. There have I done everything for this young fellow, and he
is unwilling, _unwilling_ indeed, to give his mind to the simplest
business for six hours a day.'
'It is wrong,' said Felix, 'but his powers lie in such a different
line.'
'Fiddling and daubing! Pah! If anything could be more incomprehensible
than his not being able to cast up an account or take a message; it is
your backing him up!'
'I am afraid he is too old for coercion.'
'No coercion like having not a penny in the world. Pray, how is he to
live?'
'His own means will help him through his studies.'
'His own--£200! About as much as he has made ducks and drakes of in a
year. Besides, he is not of age.'
'No; but I have something of my own to advance for him.'
Wherewith there began a fresh storm. Thomas Underwood was greatly
mortified at the desertion of one brother, and still more at the
acquiescence of the other. He would no doubt have been ready to
retain the handsome engaging youth, grumbling and enduring, as a sort
of expensive luxury; and in his wrath, disappointment, and sense of
ingratitude at finding that his restive protégé was not to be driven
back to him, he became so abusive, that Felix could hardly keep his
tongue or temper in check; but when he declared that if any support
were given to Edgar's lunatic project, the whole family except Alda
should be left to their own resources for the rest of their lives, it
was with quiet determination that the reply was made, with studied,
though difficult, respectfulness:--
'Sir, we are much obliged for what you have done for us, but we hope
to be able to work for ourselves and for one another without becoming
dependent. You cannot suppose that such a consideration would affect
my opinion respecting Edgar.' (N.B.--If Mr. Underwood _had_ supposed
it, he felt as if it were impossible, as all his cousin Edward's
high spirit glowed in that young man's eyes, and strengthened the
studiously calm voice.) 'I think,' continued Felix, 'that no one can
be doing right whose work is not thorough. If Edgar cannot or will not
apply himself in earnest to your business, he will be doing better by
studying art with a will than in pretending to work here, and abusing
your forbearance. That would be so improper towards you, and so wrong
in him, that it would be simply unjustifiable in me to try to persuade
you into allowing it.'
Somehow, Mr. Underwood had not at all expected such a reply; and as
luckily want of breath had forced him to wait and really hear it, a
sensation came over him of old times when Edward Underwood had argued
with him; and it was with much less heat that he returned, with an
effort at irony, 'And so you take the bread out of the mouths of the
others to support my fine gentleman in his absurd nonsense?'
'No, Sir; what I advance is entirely my own.'
'Oh, ay; didn't I hear something about a legacy?'
'Yes, from Admiral Chester. A thousand pounds. It has only just been
paid to me.'
'That you may throw it away on this young scamp's fancies?'
'No, Sir, I hope not. Half of it goes into the business at Bexley. We
sign the deed of partnership next week. It will make a great difference
to me. The rest is ready for emergencies.'
'Tomfooleries,' muttered Mr. Underwood. 'Pray, what are the plans for
this making a new Michael Angelo? Am I expected to give him the run of
my house? I shall do no such thing!'
'No, Sir, it would not be proper to ask it. This Renville takes pupils
for the Royal Academy, and Edgar would board and lodge there; but I
hope you will still be good enough to allow him to call on Alda, and
not let him be entirely left to himself. He is much to blame, but it is
not as if he had run into bad dissipation.'
'That's true,' said Mr. Underwood. 'A terrible disappointment that
young dog has been to me, Felix Underwood; but as you put it, there's
an honesty in the thing! Where is my fine gentleman?'
'Downstairs, Sir.'
Mr. Underwood breathed through a mysterious tube, and Edgar appeared,
with his usual easy grace, and with a sharp glance at Felix as if to
inquire whether there were to be any attack on his newly-found liberty.
'Look here, Edgar,' was the address. 'Your brother--a much better one
than you deserve--'
'Thrue for you,' muttered Edgar between his teeth.
'--Says what has some sense in it, that "nothing is so ruinous as doing
things by halves," and that you ought to be ashamed of hanging about
here doing nothing--'
A quick glance passed between the brothers.
'--So he is for letting you have your way; and if he chooses to
support you, and you choose to rob him--for I think it nothing less
than robbery--why there--I can't help it. So I put it to you for the
last time: will you buckle steadily to your work here like a rational
being, or cast yourself loose to live as a beggarly artist on what your
brother can give you by pinching the rest?'
'Thank you, Sir; I hope the sooner to help him to feed the rest, by
taking the plunge you think so desperate,' said Edgar, with more
gravity than usual.
'Oh, indeed!' sneered Mr. Underwood. 'Remember, not a farthing of mine
goes to such folly! I don't understand it! I thought once you'd have
been as good as a son to me,' he added in a very different tone, as he
looked at the fine young man in whom he yearned to take pride.
'I wish I could, Sir,' said Edgar, with real feeling. 'I wish you had
hit upon any one of us but my unlucky self. You've been very good to
me, but what a man can't do, he can't; and if I gave in now, it would
only be the same over again. But we don't part in anger, Uncle,' he
continued, with a trembling of voice.
'Anger?! No, my boy. I'm only vexed at the whole thing; but I don't
want to lose sight of you altogether. You'll stay with us till you've
found decent lodgings, and you'll be welcome to look in on a Sunday.'
Mr. Underwood spoke in a tone between asking and granting a favour.
'Thank you, Sir, with all my heart,' said Edgar.
'And you'll come to dine and sleep?' he added to Felix. 'You've not
seen your sister.'
'No, thank you, Sir, I cannot to-day; I must be at home tonight.'
They shook hands cordially; but as Edgar crossed the counting-house,
he paused to open his own desk and pocket some of the contents, saying
lightly as he did so, 'There's promotion in store for some of you
youngsters--I congratulate you, Mr. Spooner; you're free of a burthen
to your spirit.'
'Indeed, Mr. Edgar, I'm very sorry if--'
'Don't throw away your sorrow, Mr. Spooner; I was foredoomed your soul
to cross, and I bear no malice to you for having been crossed. Shake
hands, and wish me success as a painter.'
'I wish you success, Mr. Edgar; but it will not be met with in any
profession without application and regularity.'
Edgar forbore from any reply but a low and deferential bow, such as to
provoke another smothered laugh from the other young clerks, to whom
Felix suspected, as he looked round, the favoured kinsman was subject
of jealousy, admiration, or imitation, according to character. However,
Edgar shook hands with each, with some little word of infinite but
gracious superiority, and on coming out exclaimed, 'Ban, ban, Caliban!
You who are emancipated from a Redstone, congratulate me!'
Felix neither observed on the vast difference between the excellent
confidential Spooner and pettily jealous Redstone, nor on the extremely
dissimilar mode of emancipation. He was more occupied with the
momentous responsibility of having assisted to cut his brother loose
from the protection to which his father had confided him. Mr. Audley's
warning that he was inclined to be weak where Edgar was concerned,
came before him. Yet the life of luxury and unfulfilled duties was
in his eyes such a wrongful course, that he felt justified in having
put an end to it; and his heart warmed with hope and exultation as
he recollected how Etty's success had been owing to his brother's
aid, and felt himself putting Edgar's foot on the first round of the
ladder, and freeing his ascent from all that had hitherto trammelled
it. Such bright visions haunted him when talking was impossible on
the omnibus, outside which Edgar had exalted him--he did not well
know why till on descending at Charing Cross, he found he was to have
an interview with Mr. Renville, who was copying a picture in the
National Gallery, and whom he found, to his great relief, to be no wild
Bohemian, but a simple painstaking business-like man, who had married
a German hausfrau, and lodged a few art students with unexceptionable
references. Knowing Edgar already, he had measured his powers, and
assured Felix that his talent was undoubted, though whether that talent
amounted to genius could only be decided when the preliminary studies
were accomplished; but even if it were not of the very highest order,
(a supposition that rather hurt Felix's feelings,) the less aspiring
walks of the profession would afford sufficient security of maintenance
to justify the expense of the study. He talked with sense and coolness;
and his charges, though falling severely on such funds as were at the
disposal of the young pillar of the house, were, Edgar declared, and
Felix could well believe, very moderate. The time was to be further
decided after reference to Mrs. Renville.
'Will you not come home first?' asked Felix, as they descended the
steps.
'Not in the character of the discarded! Who knows the effect it might
have on old Froggy? By-the-by, I hope this advance does not make any
difference to the terms of your bondage.'
'Nothing important.'
'Draw bills to any amount on the R.A. of the future!'
The light hopeful tone contrasted with Clement's grave thankfulness,
and sorrow at being an expense; but Felix really preferred it, as far
less embarrassing.
'Could you come down in a month's time?' he continued. 'Lance is to be
confirmed at the Cathedral, and it might be an opportunity for you.'
'I cannot lose this month's work at the Academy, it is the most
important in the year.'
'It might be arranged for you to come down for the day. You could see
any one you pleased here.'
'Has Tina excited you to consign me to the Whittingtonian Fathers?'
'No.' Felix had almost rested there, but presently added, gravely, 'I
constantly feel the impossibility of getting through this world and
keeping straight without help--the help that is provided for us,' he
added, lamely enough.
'Dear old Blunderbore,' said Edgar, affectionately; 'what comes
naturally to you, No. 1, letter A, in a flock of girls and boys, can't
be the same when one has got out into this wicked world. Go on in your
own groove, and leave me to my aberrations. Don't vex yourself, old
fellow. A popular journalist must have got far enough to know that men
don't concern themselves about these little affairs in one another.'
'Brothers do.'
'Not unless they partake of the sister. Come! You have had no
sustenance since breakfast at six o'clock, have you? Come in here, and
learn what soup means.'
'There's no time. The train is at five.'
'Time! You don't mean to walk?'
'I do; and get something to eat at the station.'
'I declare, Fee, your unsophistication would be refreshing if it were
not a disgrace to your profession. Why are you not reporter to the
"Teetotal Times?" No wonder if the Pursuivant has a flavour of weak
tea!'
Felix smiled rather sadly, aware that this was meant to lead him
away from the last subject. He perceived that the door between his
favourite brother's soul and his own was closed, and that knocking
would only cause it to be bolted and barred. It might be true, as Mr.
Audley had told him, that Edgar's was not so much real scepticism as
the talk of the day, and the regarding the doubts of deeper thinkers
as a dispensation from all irksome claims; but this was poor solace,
while his brother rattled on: 'My dear Blunderbore, the hasty-pudding
on which you characteristically breakfast is a delusion as to economy.
Renville's little Frau will keep us better and at less expense than
ever Wilmet conceived. You wrap yourself in your virtue, and refuse to
spend a couple of shillings, as deeming it robbery of the fry at home.
You wear out at least a shilling's worth of boot leather, pay twopence
for a roll and fourpence for a more villainous compound called coffee;
come home in a state of inanition, cram down a quartern loaf and a
quarter of a pound of rancid butter, washed down with weak tea; and if
self-satisfaction and exhaustion combined are soporific, it is only
to leave you a prey to night-mare. Then, to say nothing of poorness
of blood producing paucity of ideas, it is fearful to think of the
doctor's bill you are laying up!'
'Nonsense, Edgar; I am in perfect health.'
Edgar went off into a learned dissertation on the qualities of food and
liquor, and the expedience of enriching the blood, and giving substance
to the constitution. He was, in fact, much more robust and athletic, as
well as much taller, than his brother, who looked like one who led an
indoor life without cultivating his strength, but had no token of lack
of health or activity. Always of small appetite, he did not care how
long he fasted, and was so much used to be on his feet, that the long
walk through the streets seemed to fatigue him less than Edgar, who
nevertheless kept with him, as finding real pleasure in his company.
The only pauses were at the sight of an accordion in a shop window
labelled at so low a price, that Felix ventured on it for Theodore; and
again when Edgar insisted on stuffing his pockets with bon-bons for the
babes, as antidotes, he said, to the Blunderbore diet.
'I beg to observe, it was not Blunderbore that lived on hasty-pudding.
That was the Welsh giant,' said Felix.
'Ay! Blunderbore had three heads, and was buried up to the neck,
completing the resemblance! Well, some day I'll give you all a hoist,
old fellow, and then you'll be immortalized for having developed the
President of the Royal Academy out of his slough of hides and tallow.'
Felix went home through the summer twilight, tired and heavy-hearted,
to find Wilmet sitting up over a supper not much less rigorously frugal
than Edgar had foretold. Telling Wilmet was perhaps the worst of it
to Felix. True, she forbore to reprove or lament when she understood
that the deed was actually accomplished, and saw that he was fatigued
and out of spirits; but her 'Indeed! Oh! Felix!' and her involuntary
gesture and attitude of dismay, went as far as a volume of reproach and
evil augury. He was weary beyond vindicating himself or Edgar; but the
next morning, when Wilmet and Angela had started for school, there was
a sense that the cat was away, and Geraldine looking up under her long
black eyelashes, whispered, 'Oh! it is so nice in you to have let him
loose, dear Fee! It was such cruel waste to pin him down there!'
'It was mockery for him to pretend to work there against the grain, and
live in all that ease and luxury,' said Felix, greatly appreciating
her sympathy. 'That must be so clearly wrong, that the more I think it
over, the more I trust I did right in not trying to make it up again,
as Mr. Audley did.'
'It was only a pity he did!' said Cherry; 'but of course it was for
your sake, that you might not have him thrown back on your hands.'
'And for Edgar's own protection too,' said Felix; 'but I cannot think
lazy insufficient work, and constant amusement, otherwise than so
unworthy, that I am sure Mr. Audley would think it more honest and
right to put an end to them, even at some risk.'
'Risk!' said the little sister, ruffling up her feathers; 'he is sure
to succeed, and you know it.'
'I did only mean risk in that sense,' said Felix, gravely; 'but I hope
he is safely and satisfactorily placed. Renville seems an excellent
person, and more trustworthy perhaps because he only commits himself to
Edgar's capability.
'Capability!' contemptuously repeated Cherry. 'No one but you and I
really understand what Edgar can do!'
'I could have shaken the fellow for his coldness,' said Felix, smiling;
'but no doubt it was right of him, and Edgar will soon show--'
'That he will! Only look at the beauty and freedom of this outline,' as
she opened her portfolio.
'Don't beguile me, Cherry; I can't stay. I've all yesterday's work to
make up.'
'Here are all the proofs, ready. Only just look at the sentence I
marked for you. O Felix, how lucky Edgar has you for a brother, to save
him from being blighted and crushed!'
'Is that head yours or his? Yours! I should say he was lucky to have
such an unenvious sister. You would draw as well as he if you only had
the teaching.'
'Oh no, don't say that! It spoils his! Though I do wish my drawing
could be of some use.'
'Never mind about use. You are our pleasure,' as he saw her
dissatisfied; 'besides, what would _Pur_ (the household abbreviation of
Pursuivant) do without the sub?'
This was much pleasanter! Cherry smiled at his kiss, and he ran
downstairs, exulting--like herself--in their artist brother's future
fame.
When he returned to the sitting-room in the evening twilight, the
first voice he heard, through Theodore's humming, was Wilmet's, as in
mitigation--'I daresay he is well educated, and not vulgar.'
'Oh! but the sound of it!' cried Alice Knevett's voice. 'A mere
tradesman!'
'Who is the unfortunate?' asked Felix, coming forward.
'O Mr. Underwood, how you do steal upon one! Yes, I'm furious! Here's
my old friend Florence Spelman--the dearest girl in the world, and so
pretty--gone and engaged herself to young Schneider, of Schneider and
Co., on the tailor's advertisements, you know! It is one of the first
houses in London, and he's very rich and handsome and all that; but
isn't it dreadful? All her friends will have to drop her! And I was so
fond of her.'
'Is it trade itself, or the kind of trade, that outrages your
feelings?' asked Felix, in a tone of raillery.
'Oh, a tailor is too horrible! As if all trade wasn't bad enough,' said
Alice, laughing; then recollecting herself she turned, blushing and
confused, to Cherry--'At least--I mean--your brother makes one forget.
He isn't in the least like _that!_'
'I never wish to forget anything he is!' said Cherry, proudly looking
up to him.
'Ah! you don't know what is in my pocket!' said Felix, leaning his back
against the mantleshelf.
'Oh! what!' cried Alice and Geraldine both together; while Wilmet
looked at him as if she wished to put him in mind of the presence of a
stranger.
'Guess!' he said.
'Somebody has left you a fortune! Oh! delightful!' cried Alice,
clasping her hands.
'Mr. Thomas Underwood will take Edgar's art study on himself,'
exclaimed the more moderate Geraldine.
'You burn, Cherry. It comes from that quarter. Here's a letter by the
evening's post to offer me, if I have not closed with Mr. Froggatt, to
invest in Kedge and Underwood's concern, and begin with £300 a year as
clerk.'
'It can't be possible,' said Wilmet, the only one to speak, as the
other two girls looked rather blank.
'Just so far that the deed of partnership here is not signed.'
'What is the business?' asked Alice.
'He is a South American merchant, and deals with Rio for hides and
tallow, if you prefer that to books and stationery,' said Felix, in a
would-be light tone.
'Oh, but a South American merchant! That sounds quite delightful!'
cried Alice. 'And you'll have to live in dear, dear London! How I envy
you!'
'That must be the effect you had upon him, Felix!' said Cherry, proudly.
'Well, I thought I had been a specimen of the obstinate,' observed
Felix. 'Here is his letter.'
He gave it as of right to Wilmet; but other eyes remarked the address
to F. C. Underwood, Esquire, an unusual thing, since, as Mr. Froggatt
had never aspired to the squirehood, Felix made all his brothers and
sisters write only the Mister, and thus entirely deprived himself of
the pleasure of Alda's correspondence.
'Where will you live? Oh! you'll let me come and stay with you
sometimes!' cried Alice.
Felix smiled as he answered, 'I'm afraid our house is not built yet.'
'Miss Pearson's maid for Miss Alice,' said Martha, at the door.
'Oh dear, how tiresome! but you'll tell me all about it to-morrow. How
horrid it will be here when you are all gone!'
'We are not gone yet,' said Wilmet, repressively. 'And if you please,
Alice, do not talk of this.'
'No,' said Felix, 'it must be entirely a family matter. I know we can
trust to you.'
'Thank you! I'm so glad I was there! It is so nice to have a secret of
yours--and this is a beauty! Why, you'll be a great man with a house in
London, just like Mr. Underwood of Centry.'
'Pleasing ambition,' Cherry could not help muttering, with an ironical
smile, as Alice laughed and nodded herself away.
'Ready sympathy is a pleasant thing,' returned Felix.
'You don't mean that you think this feasible?' said Wilmet, with a
negative inflection in her voice.
'I think it ought to be considered before it is absolutely too late.'
Both were surprised, having always thought that he considered his
destiny as fixed; and as Geraldine looked on while the other two
discussed pounds, shillings, and pence, it was plain to her that he had
an inclination to the change. The probability of rising, the benefit
of lodging Edgar, the nearness to Alda, the probable openings for the
younger lads, were advantages; but against these Wilmet set the heavy
London house-rent, rates and taxes--from which they were free--the
expense of living, the loss of her present situation, the dangers of
deterioration of health. As to Edgar, his habits must be formed, he
was already in a respectable family, and Lance and Bernard ought not
to be risked for his sake. In fact Wilmet looked on London with a sage
country girl's prudent horror of the great and wicked capital; and
when that experienced man of the world, Felix, tried to prove that she
did it injustice, he was met with a volley of alarming anecdotes. He
hinted that ladies' schools might need teachers there, but was met by
the difficulty of forming a new connection; and when he suggested that
Cherry's talent might be cultivated, Wilmet hotly exclaimed, 'She could
never go about to classes and schools of art!'
'Not alone, certainly,' said Cherry, wistfully.
'Edgar is as good as nobody, and I should be of no use in places like
that,' added Wilmet.
'I'm afraid you don't look very chaperonish,' said Felix, contemplating
the fair exquisitely-moulded face, the more Grecian for the youthful
severity that curved the lip and fixed the eye. 'If we could only turn
her inside out, Cherry, she would be a dozen duennas in one!'
'And then the Pursuivant. You would not like to desert poor Pur,' added
Cherry.
'I could do that better in town in some ways.'
'Mr. Underwood would think that as bad as Edgar's drawing,' said
Wilmet. 'No, no, Felix, you have learnt one business thoroughly, and
it would be foolish to begin a fresh one now. Besides, how about Mr.
Froggatt?'
'Of course I should do nothing in such haste as to inconvenience
Mr. Froggatt,' said Felix; 'and no one is more anxious for our real
benefit, if this were possible.'
'But you see it won't do,' reiterated Wilmet.
'Perhaps not,' he answered, with more of a sigh than his sisters
expected.
Rather nettled, Wilmet set to work with pencil and paper to calculate
expenses; Geraldine looked up at Felix, who had taken up a book, and
began to whistle, 'For a' that, an' a' that.'
Presently Wilmet, by way of making assurance sure, went off for her
account-book; when he looked up and said,' How should you have liked
this, Cherry?'
'I don't know. I've not thought. Did you?'
'I hadn't time before our Pallas Athene settled it; and I believe she
is right, if she would not lay it in quite so hard. It only seemed
a pity to lose our last chance of a lift in life without at least
considering it.'
'I thought you did not care about lifts in life.'
'I ought not. But when it is brought home that we have slipped down
two degrees in the social scale, it is tempting to step up one again!
However, it plainly cannot be.'
Yet when Wilmet mustered her irrefragable figures to prove how much
poorer they would be in London than on their present income at Bexley,
he would not go into details, saying that he wanted to hear no more
about it, in a tone that a little hurt her. He was so uniformly gentle
and gracious, that what would have passed unnoticed in most brothers,
was noticed anxiously in him; and as Wilmet darned his shirt sleeve,
a glistening came between her eyes and her needle, as she felt the
requital of her prudence rather hard. Must all men pant to be out in
the world, and be angry with women for withholding them?
Nor was Geraldine devoid of the old prick, when she thought of the
degrees in the social scale in connection with the words about
tradesmen and merchants.
Wilmet was not quite happy without knowing that the letter of refusal
was written, and was more vexed than she liked to show when Felix
laughed at her for supposing he could have made time to write it on a
busy Saturday, even if there had been any London post to send it by.
Poor Alice Knevett got a considerable snubbing for bursting in to ask
the decision, and lamenting over it when she had heard it; but she
stood her ground with a certain pertinacity of her own: and so late in
the evening, that Wilmet had gone up to put Stella to bed, Felix came
up with the letter in his hand. It was so carefully expressed, that
Cherry could not help saying saucily that it was worthy of the editor
of the Pursuivant; while Alice, much impressed by the long words,
enthusiastically broke out, 'It is a most beautiful letter, only it
ought to have said just the other thing!'
'Why, what would you have done without Cherry?' said Felix.
'I'd have come to stay with her! And it is such a pity! A merchant is
a gentleman, and I am sure you could get to be anything--a member of
parliament, or a baronet, or--' as if her imagination could not go
farther; but she looked up at him with a dew of eagerness glistening
in her bright hazel eyes. 'I was telling Cherry it does seem such a
dreadful horrible pity that you should be nailed down in this little
hole of a place for life.'
Felix smiled--a man's superior, gratified, but half melancholy
smile--as he answered, 'At any rate, you won't lose the pleasures of
imagination or of pity.'
'But I want to see you have the spirit to try,' cried Alice, eagerly.
'I know you could.'
'It would not be right,' said Felix, sitting down by her, and in full
earnest gentleness and gravity setting before her the reasons that
Cherry had hardly thought it worth while really to explain--namely, the
impossibility of their being able to pay their way and meet the needful
expenses, and the evils of the young, inexperienced household residing
in London, resigning security for dependence.
Alice, flattered by being treated as a sensible person, said, 'Yes,'
and 'I see,' at all the proper places; then drew a sigh, saying, 'It is
very good in you.'
'I knew you would see it in the right light,' replied Felix.
'Oh!' but the sigh recurred. 'I can't help being sorry, you know.'
'There is nothing to be sorry for,' he said gratefully. 'I was
disappointed at first myself; but for sheer usefulness to one's
neighbour, I believe that this present position, if I have sense
to make use of it rightly, is as good as any; and the mere
desire of station and promotion is--when one comes to look at it
properly--nonsense after all.'
She opened her eyes in amazement, and made a little exclamation.
'They may be well when they come,' said Felix in answer; 'but I have
thought it over well to-night, and I see that to do anything doubtfully
right for their sake would be a risk for all that I have no right to
run.'
Alice hung her head, overcome by the pure air of the region where he
was lifting her; and in a sort of shyness at the serious tone in which
he had spoken, he added, smiling,
'Then you'll forgive the "sound of it."'
'O Mr. Underwood,' she said, in the simplest and most earnest voice
that Cherry had ever heard from her, 'I'm ashamed to recollect that
nonsense!'