There are seasons in the life of man, as well as in the course of the
year; and well, unhappily, have many poets painted them in all their
various aspects. But these seasons are subject to variations with
different men, as with different years. The summer of one man is all
bright and calm--a lapse of tranquil sunshine, and soft airs, and
gentle dews. With another, the same season passes in the thunder-storm
of passion--the tempests of war or ambition--and often, the gloomy
days of autumn or of winter overshadowed the rich land, and spoiled
the promised harvest.
It was an autumn-like period during the next three or four months of
the family of Sir Philip Hastings. For the first time, uncertainty and
doubt fell upon the family generally. There had been differences of
temper and of character. There had been slight inconveniences. There
had been occasional sickness and anxiety. There had been all those
things which in the usual course of events diminished the sum of human
happiness even to the most happy. But there had been nothing the least
like uncertainty of position. There had been no wavering anxiety from
day to day as to what the morrow was to bring forth. There had been
none of that poison-drop in which the keenest shafts of fate are
dipped, "the looking for of evil."
Now, every day brought some new intelligence, and some new
expectation, and the mass was altogether unfavorable. Had the blow
fallen at once--had any one been in power to say, "Sir Philip
Hastings, you must resign all your paternal estates, and pay back at
once the rents for nearly twenty years--you must give up the rank and
station which you have hitherto held, and occupy a totally different
position in society!" Sir Philip would have submitted at once, and
with less discomfort than most of my readers can imagine. But it was
the wearing, irritating, exciting, yet stupefying progress of a
lawsuit which had a painful and distressing effect upon his mind. One
day, he thought he saw the case quite clearly--could track the tricks
of his adversary, and expose the insecure foundation of his claim; and
then would come two or three days of doubt and discussion, and then
disappointment, and a new turn where every thing had to begin again.
But gradually proofs swelled up, first giving some show of justice to
the pretence that John Ayliffe had some claim, then amounting to a
probability in his favor, then seeming, to unlearned eyes, very
powerful as to his right.
I am no lawyer, and therefore cannot pursue all the stages of the
proceeding; but John Ayliffe had for his assistants unscrupulous men,
whose only aims were to succeed, and to shield themselves from danger
in case of detection; and their turns, and twists, and new points,
were manifold.
Sir Philip Hastings was tortured. It affected his spirits and his
temper. He became more gloomy--occasionally irritable, often
suspicious. He learned to pore over law papers, to seek out flaws and
errors, to look for any thing that might convey a double meaning, to
track the tortuous and narrow paths by which that power which bears
the name of Justice reaches the clear light of truth, or falls into
the thorny deep of error.
All this disturbed and changed him; and these daily anxieties and
discomforts affected his family too--Emily, indeed, but little, except
inasmuch as she was grieved to see her father grieve. But Lady
Hastings was not only pained and mortified herself--she contrived
to communicate a share of all she felt to others. She became
sad--somewhat sullen--and fancied all the time while she was
depressing her husband's spirits, and aggravating all he felt by
despondency and murmurs, instead of cheering and supporting him by
making light of the threatened evils, that she was but participating
sympathetically in his anxieties, and feeling a due share of his
sorrows. She had no idea of the duty of cheerfulness, in a wife, and
how often it may prove the very blessing that God intended in giving
man a helpmate.
Sickness, it is true, had diminished somewhat the light spirits of her
youth, but she had assuredly become a creature of repinings--a
murmurer by habit--fit to double rather than divide any load of
misfortune which fate might cast upon a husband's shoulders.
Lady Hastings strove rather to look sad, Emily Hastings to be gay and
cheerful, and both did it perhaps a little too much for the mood and
circumstances in which Sir Philip then was. He wondered when he came
home, after an anxious day, that Lady Hastings did nothing to cheer
him--that every word was gloomy and sad--that she seemed far more
affected at the thought of loss of fortune and station than himself.
He wondered also that Emily could be so light and playful, so joyous
and seemingly unconcerned, when he was suffering such anxiety.
Poor Emily! she was forcing spirits in vain, and playing the kindliest
of hypocrites--fashioning every word, and every look, to win him away
from painful thought, only to be misunderstood.
But the misunderstanding was heightened and pointed by the hand of
malice. The emotion which Sir Philip had displayed in the court had
not been forgotten by some whom a spirit of revenge rendered keen and
clear-sighted.
It seemed impossible to mingle Emily's name directly with the law
proceedings which were taking place; but more than once in accidental
correspondence it was insinuated that secret information, which had
led to the development of John Ayliffe's claim, had been obtained from
some near relation of Sir Philip Hastings, and it became generally
rumored and credited in the county, that Emily had indiscreetly
betrayed some secrets of her father's. Of course these rumors did not
reach her ears, but they reached Sir Philip Hastings, and he thought
it strange, and more strange, that Emily had never mentioned to him
her several interviews with John Ayliffe, which he had by this time
learned were more than one.
Some strange feelings, disguised doubtless by one of those veils which
vanity or selfishness are ever ready to cast over the naked emotions
of the human heart, withheld him from speaking to his child on the
subject which caused him so much pain. Doubtless it was pride--for
pride of a peculiar kind was at the bottom of many of his actions. He
would not condescend to inquire, he thought, into that which she did
not choose to explain herself, and he went on in reality barring the
way against confidence, when, in truth, nothing would have given Emily
more relief than to open her whole heart to her father.
With Marlow, Sir Philip Hastings was more free and communicative than
with any one else. The young man's clear perceptions, and rapid
comprehensions on any point in the course of the proceedings going on,
his zeal, his anxiety, his thoughtfulness, and his keen sense of what
was just and equitable, raised him every day higher in the opinion of
Sir Philip Hastings, and he would consult with him for hours, talk the
whole matter over in all its bearings, and leave him to solve various
questions of conscience in which he found it difficult himself to come
to a decision. Only on one point Sir Philip Hastings never spoke to
him; and that was Emily's conduct with regard to young Ayliffe. That,
the father could not do; and yet, more than once, he longed to do it.
One day, however, towards the end of six months after the first
processes had been issued, Sir Philip Hastings, in one of his morning
consultations with Marlow, recapitulated succinctly all the proofs
which young John Ayliffe had brought forward to establish a valid
marriage between his mother and the elder brother of the baronet.
"The case is very nearly complete," said Sir Philip. "But two or three
links in the chain of evidence are wanting, and as soon as I become
myself convinced that this young man is, beyond all reasonable doubt,
the legitimate son of my brother John, my course will be soon taken.
It behooves us in the first instance, Marlow, to consider how this may
affect you. You have sought the hand of a rich man's daughter, and now
I shall be a poor man; for although considerable sums have accumulated
since my father's death, they will not more than suffice to pay off
the sums due to this young man if his claim be established, and the
expenses of this suit must be saved by hard economy. The property of
Lady Hastings will still descend to our child, but neither she nor I
have the power to alienate even a part of it for our daughter's dowry.
It is right, therefore, Marlow, that you should be set free from all
engagements."
"When I first asked your daughter's hand, Sir Philip," replied
Marlow, "I heartily wished that our fortunes were more equal. Fate has
granted that wish, apparently, in making them so; and believe me, I
rejoice rather than regret that it is so, as far as I myself am
concerned. We shall have enough for comfort, Sir Philip, and not too
much for happiness. What need we more? But I cannot help thinking," he
continued, "that this suit may turn out differently from that which
you expect. I believe that the mind has its instincts, which, though
dangerous to trust to, guide us nevertheless, sometimes, more surely
than reason. There is an impression on my mind, which all the evidence
hitherto brought forward has been unable to shake, that this claim of
John Ayliffe is utterly without foundation--that it is, in fact, a
trumped up case, supported by proofs which will fall to pieces under
close examination."
Sir Philip Hastings shook his head. "But one thing more," he said,
"and I am myself convinced. I will not struggle against conviction,
Marlow; but the moment I feel morally sure that I am defending a bad
cause, that instant I will yield, be the sacrifice what it may.
Nothing on earth," he continued, in a stern abstracted tone, "shall
ever prevent my doing that which I believe right, and which justice
and honor require me to do. Life itself and all that makes life dear
were but a poor sacrifice in the eyes of an honest man; what then a
few thousand acres, and an empty designation?"
"But, my dear Sir Philip," replied Marlow, "let us suppose for one
moment that this claim is a fictitious one, and that it is supported
by fraud and forgery, you will allow that more than a few months are
required to investigate all the particulars thoroughly, and to detect
the knavery which may have been committed?"
"My dear Marlow," replied Sir Philip, "conviction comes to each mind
accordingly as it is naturally constituted or habitually regulated. I
trust I have studied the nature of evidence well--well enough to be
satisfied with much less than mere law will require. In regard to all
questions which come under the decision of the law, there are, in
fact, two juries who decide upon the merits of the evidence--one,
selected from our fellow men--the other in the bosom of the parties
before which each man shall scrupulously try the justice of his own
cause, and if the verdict be against him, should look upon himself but
as an officer to carry the verdict into execution. I will never act
against conviction. I will always act with it. My mind will try the
cause itself; and the moment its decision is pronounced, that instant
I will act upon it."
Marlow knew that it was in vain to argue farther, and could only trust
that something would occur speedily to restore Sir Philip's confidence
in his own rights.
Sir Philip, however, was now absent very frequently from home. The
unpleasant business in which he was engaged, called him continually to
the county town, and many a long and happy hour might Marlow and Emily
have passed together had not Lady Hastings at this time assumed a
somewhat new character--apparently so only--for it was, in fact,
merely a phase of the old one. She became--as far as health and
indolence would admit--the most prudent and careful mother in the
world. She insinuated that it was highly improper for Emily to walk or
ride alone with her acknowledged lover, and broadly asserted that
their previous rambles had been permitted without her knowledge, and
from inadvertence. During all Marlow's afternoon visits, she took
especial care to sit with them the whole time, and thus she sought to
deprive them of all means of free and unconstrained communication.
Such would have been the result, too, indeed, had it not been for a
few morning hours snatched now and then; partly from a habit of
indulgence, and partly from very delicate health, Lady Hastings was
rarely, if ever, down to breakfast, and generally remained in her
drawing-room till the hour of noon was past.
The hours of Sir Philip's absence were generally tedious enough to
himself. Sometimes a day of weary and laborious business occupied the
time; but that was a relief rather than otherwise. In general the day
was spent in a visit to the office of his lawyer, in finding the
information he wanted, or the case he had desired to be prepared, not
ready for him, in waiting for it hour after hour, in tedious gloomy
meditation, and very often riding home without it, reflecting on the
evils of a dilatory system which often, by the refusal of speedy
justice, renders ultimate justice unavailable for any thing but the
assertion of an abstract principle. He got tired of this mode of
proceeding: he felt that it irritated and disordered him, and after a
while, whenever he found that he should be detained in suspense, he
mounted his horse again, and rode away to amuse his mind with other
things.
The house of Mrs. Hazleton being so near, he more than once paid her a
visit during such intervals. His coming frequently was not altogether
convenient to her; for John Ayliffe was not an unfrequent visitor at
her house, and Mrs. Hazleton had to give the young men a hint to let
her see him early in the morning or late in the evening. Nevertheless,
Mrs. Hazleton was not at all displeased to cultivate the friendship of
Sir Philip Hastings. She had her objects, her purposes, to serve, and
with her when she put on her most friendly looks towards the baronet
she was not moved merely by that every-day instinctive hypocrisy which
leads man to cover the passions he is conscious of, with a veil of the
most opposite appearances, but it was a definite hypocrisy, with
objects distinctly seen by herself, and full of purpose.
Thus, and for these reasons, she received Sir Philip Hastings on all
occasions with the highest distinction--assumed, with a certain
chameleon quality which some persons have, the color and tone of his
mind to a considerable degree, while yet the general features of her
own character were preserved sufficiently to shield her from the
charge of affectation. She was easy, graceful, dignified as ever, with
a certain languid air, and serious quietness which was very engaging.
She never referred in her conversations with Sir Philip to the suit
that was going on against him, and when he spoke of it himself, though
she assumed considerable interest, and seemed to have a personal
feeling in the matter, exclaiming, "If this goes on, nobody's estates
will be secure soon!" she soon suffered the subject to drop, and did
not recur to it again.
One day after the conversation between Sir Philip and Marlow, part of
which has been already detailed, Sir Philip turned his horse's head
towards Mrs. Hazleton's at a somewhat earlier hour than usual. It was
just half past ten when he dismounted at the door, but he knew her
matutinal habits and did not expect to find her occupied. The servant,
however, instead of showing him into the small room where she usually
sat, took him to the great drawing-room, and as he went, Sir Philip
heard the voices of Mrs. Hazleton and another person in quick and
apparently eager conversation. There was nothing extraordinary in
this, however, and he turned to the window and gazed out into the
park. He heard the servant go into the morning room, and then
immediately all sound of voices ceased. Shortly after, a horse's feet,
beating the ground rapidly, caught the baronet's ear, but the rider
must have mounted in the courtyard and taken the back way out of the
park; for he came not within Sir Philip's sight. A moment or two
after, Mrs. Hazleton appeared, and there was an air of eagerness and
excitement about her which was not at all usual. She seated Sir Philip
beside her, however, with one of her blandest looks, and then laying
her hand on his, said, in a kind and sisterly tone, "Do tell me, Sir
Philip--I am not apt to be curious, or meddle with other people's
affairs; but in this I am deeply interested. A rumor has just reached
me from Hartwell, that you have signified your intention of abandoning
your defence against this ridiculous claim upon your property. Do tell
me if this is true?"
"Partly, and partly false," replied Sir Philip, "as all rumors are.
Who gave you this information?"
"Oh, some of the people from Hartwell," she replied, "who came over
upon business."
"The tidings must have spread fast," replied Sir Philip; "I announced
to my own legal advisers this morning, and told them to announce to
the opposite party, that if they could satisfy me upon one particular
point, I would not protract the suit, putting them to loss and
inconvenience and myself also."
"A noble and generous proceeding, indeed," said Mrs. Hazleton with an
enthusiastic burst of admiration. "Ah, dear Emily, I can see your
mediation in this."
Sir Philip started as if a knife had been plunged into him, and with a
profound internal satisfaction, Mrs. Hazleton saw the emotion she had
produced.
"May I ask," he said, in a dry cold tone, after he had recovered
himself a little, "May I ask what my daughter can have to do with this
affair?"
"Oh, really--in truth I don't know," said Mrs. Hazleton, stammering
and hesitating, "I only thought--but I dare say it is all nonsense.
Women are always the peacemakers, you know, Sir Philip, and as Emily
knew both parties well, it seemed natural she should mediate between
them."
"Well?--" said Sir Philip Hastings to himself, slowly and
thoughtfully, but he only replied to Mrs. Hazleton, "No, my dear
Madam, Emily has had nothing to do with this. It has never formed a
subject of conversation between us, and I trust that she has
sufficient respect for me, and for herself, not to interfere unasked
in my affairs."
The serpent had done its work; the venom was busy in the veins of Sir
Philip Hastings, corrupting the purest sources of the heart's
feelings, and Mrs. Hazleton saw it and triumphed.