THE WIDOW
FAMILY ARRANGEMENTS--MOTHER AND SON--SEPARATE INTERESTS--A
WIDOW’S DAY-DREAMS--FEMALE CONFIDENCES--THE RULE OF CONTRARY
“My dear Mount, I think, after all, I shall spend the winter at
Bubbleton,” said Lady Mount Helicon to her hopeful son, as they sat
one sunny afternoon in her well-furnished drawing-room. London was
emptying fast; a few of the lingerers still contrived to keep up a
semblance of gaiety, and those who stayed on, like Lady Mount Helicon,
because they had no country-houses to go to, voted it _so_ much
pleasanter now the crush and hurry of the season was over. But even
these could not conceal from themselves that they were but “the last
roses of summer,” that “all the world” was rushing out of town, and
they had no business here any longer. The water-carts were getting
very slack, and the dust unbearable; the Ride and the ring were
fitting haunts for a hermit, and the Serpentine was gloomy as the
Styx. Dinadam was inhaling appetite in his deer-forest--Long-Acre was
tempting Providence in his yacht--Mrs. Blacklamb was breaking hearts
at Cowes--ministers had celebrated their many defeats during the
session by their annual fish-dinner at Greenwich--and grouse were
advertised at five shillings a brace in Leadenhall Market. Yes, the
season was over, and Mount would not have been here instead of in
Perthshire had it not been for the absolute necessity of his writing
his autograph in person for the ulterior disappointment of a Hebrew,
and his own immediate benefit. He was an excellent son when he had
nothing better to do, and now sat for hours with his mother and talked
over his own plans and hers with the most perfect open-heartedness.
“Bubbleton,” said he, “mother, and why Bubbleton?”
“Can’t you see, Mount?” replied her ladyship; “Bubbleton is within
visiting distance of Newton-Hollows.”
“What then?” rejoined her son; “I thought you had made up your mind to
drop them when you found they were of no use.”
“So I should, my dear,” confessed the diplomatic lady, “if things had
turned out as I expected; but don’t you see that the game is not yet
half played out? That unfortunate boy who went off to the Cape has
been severely wounded; you know they put on mourning for him, thinking
he was dead; and it is quite on the cards that he may not recover; he
never looked strong; then our little friend is as great an heiress as
ever; and I am sure, with _your_ eloquence, you could easily persuade
her that it was jealousy, or pique, or something equally flattering,
that made you so remiss for a time, and it would be all _on_ again.
Besides, I have been making a good many inquiries lately in a
roundabout way, and I find that, even if the ‘beau cousin’ should
return safe and sound, there will be a large sum of ready money to
which the girl will be entitled when she comes of age. You want money,
Mount, I fancy?”
“Not a doubt of it, my dear mother,” replied he; “this has been my
worst year for a long time, and you know I never holloa before I’m
hurt. Goodwood _ought_ to have pulled me through, if ‘Sennacherib’
hadn’t failed at the last stride. I am afraid to say, and I can
believe you had rather not hear, what that odd six inches cost me. No,
mother, I can’t go on much longer; I don’t see my way a bit. If a
general election comes I shall have to bolt.”
“Listen to me, Mount,” said her ladyship. “I have a plan that may save
us all yet. I shall take a house at Bubbleton for the winter, and
wherever I have a roof over my head you know I am too happy to give
you a home. You can send down two or three horses, and hunt quietly
in the neighbourhood, instead of going off to Melton with eight or
ten, and losing a fortune at whist; and of all places I know,
Bubbleton is the most likely for something to _turn up_--then _if_ we
should arrange matters with Miss Kettering, everything will go
smoothly; but there is one thing I must beg of you, my dear Mount, and
that is to give up the turf. It is all I ask,” said her ladyship, with
tears in her eyes--“all I ask in return for my devotion to your
interests is to sell those horrid race-horses, and give the thing up
altogether.”
Mount made a wry face--“Sennacherib,” notwithstanding his defeat,
which, as usual, was from no lack of speed or stamina, but entirely in
consequence of _the way the race was run_--“Sennacherib” was the very
darling of his heart; and he had, besides, amongst his yearlings,
_such_ a filly, that promised, as far as babies of that age can
promise, to have the speed of the wind. Must these treasures go to
Tattersall’s? Must the hopes of Olympic triumphs and future mines of
wealth be all knocked down to the highest bidder, as the stud of a
nobleman declining racing? It was a bitter pill; but he knew his
mother was a strong-minded woman--he knew that if she insisted on the
sacrifice being made a part of the bargain, nothing would induce her
to fulfil her share unless he fulfilled his. He recollected how, in
his father’s time, crabbed as that respectable nobleman undoubtedly
was, my lady always got her own way in the long-run, and he determined
to make a virtue of necessity and give in, consoling himself with the
reflection that, when all was arranged, he could easily buy some more
horses with his wife’s money. So he promised with a good grace, and
his mother kissed him, and called him “her own dear boy”; and the pair
separated--my lord to get upon “Trictrac” and ride down to Richmond,
whither there is no occasion for us to follow him--my lady to write
sundry little notes to her friends, to consult with her agent about
letting her house in London--and then, with a good book upon her knee,
to indulge in dreamy castle-building schemes for upholding the
integrity of the house of Mount Helicon, not unmixed with rosier
visions as regarded her own prospects for the future.
This pair, whatever might be their failings as regarded the rest of
the world, seemed at all events blamelessly to fulfil their duties
each towards the other. Yet behind this apparent sincerity and
affection each was playing a separate game, totally irrespective of
aught but self; each was actuated solely by motives of interest; each
had a separate path to pursue, a separate object to attain. Mount
Helicon came readily into his mother’s views for the best of all
reasons. Everything that could save the disbursement of a shilling was
now of paramount importance to him. After a problematic trip to Norway
in Long-Acre’s yacht he would literally not have a roof to cover him.
It was all very well to make a great merit of giving up Melton, and to
dwell on the sacrifice he made on his mother’s account in foregoing
the delights of that very charming place; but Mount had now neither
hunters nor the means of getting them, and a man at Melton without
money or horses is like a fish out of water, or a teetotaller at an
Irish wake. Everything had failed with him lately. Successful as were
his literary schemes, their profits were but a drop in the ocean
compared with his necessities. Goodwood had nearly finished him, and
he hardly dared think of Doncaster, so unfortunate were his
investments on the coming St. Leger. He could see only one way out of
his difficulties--to sell himself and his title to some wealthy young
lady, and he rather fancied giving Blanche the opportunity of becoming
a purchaser; that which he would have considered a mere pittance some
six months ago he now looked upon as a very fair competence; and the
chance of young Kettering’s death, with the reversion of that large
property, was a contingency by no means to be despised; so he
submitted, with as good a grace as he could, to selling his
race-horses, and spending the winter at Bubbleton with his mother,
inwardly resolving that when he had secured his object he would break
out again into fresh extravagances, and shine with redoubled
splendour.
Lady Mount Helicon, too, had her own ends to further in her
affectionate and hospitable invitation to her son. She had found out
that his agreeable qualities, his large acquaintance, and his
brilliant reputation, always succeeded in filling her house with
those whom she was pleased to term “the best men,” fastidious
individuals who never condescended to dine with her when Mount and she
kept separate establishments. Now my lady calculated that with her
title, her cook, and her celebrated son, she would create a prodigious
sensation at Bubbleton, where neither rank, talent, nor faultless
cutlets are as common as in London; and that with these attractions in
her house, she would have an opportunity of seeing all the male
eligibles whom that salubrious locality might bring together. And she
could thus judge of them at her leisure, and pick and choose at her
caprice. That was the end in view. The idea of entering once more into
the holy bonds of matrimony had long been present to her ladyship’s
mind; and when she consulted her looking-glass, and saw reflected her
large, comely form, her still healthy complexion, and her
well-arranged hair, by courtesy called auburn, but sufficiently red to
lose little of its youthful appearance from an occasional silver line,
she grudged more and more that all these charms should be wasted on a
widow’s lonely lot, and resolved that when the time came, and the
_man_, it would be no fault of hers if she did not stand again at the
altar in the coloured robes of a bride who adds the advantage of
experience to the ripe maturity of autumnal beauty. Bubbleton, then,
was the very place from which to select the fortunate man. Its
frequenters were many of them steady-going, respectable gentlemen of
middle age, and like all unmarried middle-aged men, unless completely
ruined, sufficiently well-to-do in the world. Such are by no means
ineligible matches for a widow; and then, should none of these be
found willing to aspire to such happiness, might not General Bounce
surrender at discretion, if properly invested--more particularly
should the other matrimonial scheme progress favourably, and the
relationship thus created afford opportunities for surprises,
_coups-de-main_, or the tardier but no less fatal advances of a
regular blockade? He certainly had paid her attention in London; he
was a stout, soldier-like man for his years; above all, he had a
charming place at Newton-Hollows, and a good fortune of his own. Yes,
_faute de mieux_, the General would do very well; and then the two
families might live together, and if Blanche _did_ succeed to
everything, what a piece of luck it would be for them all! And her
ladyship, with all her knowledge of the world, actually deluded
herself into the idea that the two establishments could keep the peace
for an hour together in the same house, or that Mount, after he had
got all he could, and had no further use for his mother, would hear of
such an arrangement for one single moment. So Lady Mount Helicon rose
and smoothed her hair in the mirror over the chimney-piece, and looked
at a miniature of herself, done before she married, and lying on the
drawing-room table; and persuaded herself she was wonderfully little
altered since then, and returned in haste to her good book and her
seat with her back to the light, you may be sure, as a knock at the
door announced an arrival, and her well-powdered figure-footman
ushered in Lady Phoebe Featherhead.