MR. GREENWOOD.
Roden spent a pleasant evening with his friend and his friend's
friend at Hendon Hall before their departure for the yacht,--during
which not a word was said or an allusion made to Lady Frances. The
day was Sunday, July 20th. The weather was very hot, and the two
young men were delighted at the idea of getting away to the cool
breezes of the Northern Seas. Vivian also was a clerk in the public
service, but he was a clerk very far removed in his position from
that filled by George Roden. He was attached to the Foreign Office,
and was Junior Private Secretary to Lord Persiflage, who was
Secretary of State at that moment. Lord Persiflage and our Marquis
had married sisters. Vivian was distantly related to the two ladies,
and hence the young men had become friends. As Lord Hampstead and
Roden had been drawn together by similarity of opinion, so had Lord
Hampstead and Vivian by the reverse. Hampstead could always produce
Vivian in proof that he was not, in truth, opposed to his own order.
Vivian was one who proclaimed his great liking for things as he found
them. It was a thousand pities that any one should be hungry; but,
for himself, he liked truffles, ortolans, and all good things. If
there was any injustice in the world he was not responsible. And if
there was any injustice he had not been the gainer, seeing that he
was a younger brother. To him all Hampstead's theories were sheer
rhodomontade. There was the world, and men had got to live in it as
best they might. He intended to do so, and as he liked yachting and
liked grouse-shooting, he was very glad to have arranged with Lord
Persiflage and his brother Private Secretary, so as to be able to get
out of town for the next two months. He was member of half-a-dozen
clubs, could always go to his brother's country house if nothing more
inviting offered, dined out in London four or five days a week, and
considered himself a thoroughly useful member of society in that he
condescended to write letters for Lord Persiflage. He was pleasant in
his manners to all men, and had accommodated himself to Roden as well
as though Roden's office had also been in Downing Street instead of
the City.
"Yes, grouse," he said, after dinner. "If anything better can be
invented I'll go and do it. American bears are a myth. You may get
one in three years, and, as far as I can hear, very poor fun it
is when you get it. Lions are a grind. Elephants are as big as a
hay-stack. Pig-sticking may be very well, but you've got to go to
India, and if you're a poor Foreign Office clerk you haven't got
either the time or the money."
"You speak as though killing something were a necessity," said Roden.
"So it is, unless somebody can invent something better. I hate races,
where a fellow has nothing to do with himself when he can't afford
to bet. I don't mean to take to cards for the next ten years. I have
never been up in a balloon. Spooning is good fun, but it comes to an
end so soon one way or another. Girls are so wide-awake that they
won't spoon for nothing. Upon the whole I don't see what a fellow is
to do unless he kills something."
"You won't have much to kill on board the yacht," said Roden.
"Fishing without end in Iceland and Norway! I knew a man who killed a
ton of trout out of an Iceland lake. He had to pack himself up very
closely in tight-fitting nets, or the midges would have eaten him.
And the skin came off his nose and ears from the sun. But he liked
that rather than not, and he killed his ton of trout."
"Who weighed them?" asked Hampstead.
"How well you may know a Utilitarian by the nature of his questions!
If a man doesn't kill his ton all out, he can say he did, which is
the next best thing to it."
"Are you taking close-packing nets with you?" Roden asked.
"Well, no. Hampstead would be too impatient. And the _Free Trader_
isn't big enough to bring away the fish. But I don't mind betting a
sovereign that I kill something every day I'm out,--barring Sundays."
Not a word was said about Lady Frances, although there were a few
moments in which Roden and Lord Hampstead were alone together. Roden
had made up his mind that he would ask no questions unless the
subject were mentioned, and did not even allude to any of the family;
but he learnt in the course of the evening that the Marquis had
come back from Germany with the intention of attending to his
Parliamentary duties during the remainder of the Session.
"He's going to turn us all out," said Vivian, "on the County
Franchise, I suppose."
"I'm afraid my father is not so keen about County Franchise as he
used to be, though I hope he will be one of the few to support it in
the House of Lords if the House of Commons ever dares to pass it."
In this way Roden learnt that the Marquis, who had carried his
daughter off to Saxony as soon as he had heard of the engagement,
had left his charge there and had returned to London. As he went
home that evening he thought that it would be his duty to go to Lord
Kingsbury, and tell him, as from himself, that which the father had
as yet only learnt from his daughter or from his wife. He was aware
that it behoves a man when he has won a girl's heart to go to the
father and ask permission to carry on his suit. This duty he thought
he was bound to perform, even though the father were a person so
high and mighty as the Marquis of Kingsbury. Hitherto any such going
was out of his power. The Marquis had heard the tidings, and had
immediately caught his daughter up and carried her off to Germany. It
would have been possible to write to him, but Roden had thought that
not in such a way should such a duty be performed. Now the Marquis
had come back to London; and though the operation would be painful
the duty seemed to be paramount. On the next day he informed Mr.
Jerningham that private business of importance would take him to
the West End, and asked leave to absent himself. The morning had
been passed in the room at the Post Office with more than ordinary
silence. Crocker had been collecting himself for an attack, but his
courage had hitherto failed him. As Roden put on his hat and opened
the door he fired a parting shot. "Remember me kindly to Lord
Hampstead," he said; "and tell him I hope he enjoyed his cutlets."
Roden stood for a moment with the door in his hand, thinking that
he would turn upon the man and rebuke his insolence, but at last
determined that it would be best to hold his peace.
He went direct to Park Lane, thinking that he would probably find the
Marquis before he left the house after his luncheon. He had never
been before at the town mansion which was known as Kingsbury House,
and which possessed all the appanages of grandeur which can be given
to a London residence. As he knocked at the door he acknowledged that
he was struck with a certain awe of which he was ashamed. Having said
so much to the daughter, surely he should not be afraid to speak to
the father! But he felt that he could have managed the matter much
better had he contrived to have the interview at Hendon Hall, which
was much less grand than Kingsbury House. Almost as soon as he
knocked the door was opened, and he found himself with a powdered
footman as well as the porter. The powdered footman did not know
whether or no "my lord" was at home. He would inquire. Would the
gentleman sit down for a minute or two? The gentleman did sit down,
and waited for what seemed to him to be more than half-an-hour. The
house must be very large indeed if it took the man all this time to
look for the Marquis. He was beginning to think in what way he might
best make his escape,--as a man is apt to think when delays of this
kind prove too long for the patience,--but the man returned, and with
a cold unfriendly air bade Roden to follow him. Roden was quite sure
that some evil was to happen, so cold and unfriendly was the manner
of the man; but still he followed, having now no means of escape. The
man had not said that the Marquis would see him, had not even given
any intimation that the Marquis was in the house. It was as though
he were being led away to execution for having had the impertinence
to knock at the door. But still he followed. He was taken along a
passage on the ground floor, past numerous doors, to what must have
been the back of the house, and there was shown into a somewhat dingy
room that was altogether surrounded by books. There he saw an old
gentleman;--but the old gentleman was not the Marquis of Kingsbury.
"Ah, eh, oh," said the old gentleman. "You, I believe, are Mr. George
Roden."
"That is my name. I had hoped to see Lord Kingsbury."
"Lord Kingsbury has thought it best for all parties
that,--that,--that,--I should see you. That is, if anybody should
see you. My name is Greenwood;--the Rev. Mr. Greenwood. I am his
lordship's chaplain, and, if I may presume to say so, his most
attached and sincere friend. I have had the honour of a very long
connexion with his lordship, and have therefore been entrusted by
him with this,--this,--this delicate duty, I had perhaps better call
it." Mr. Greenwood was a stout, short man, about sixty years of age,
with pendant cheeks, and pendant chin, with a few grey hairs brushed
carefully over his head, with a good forehead and well-fashioned
nose, who must have been good-looking when he was young, but that he
was too short for manly beauty. Now, in advanced years, he had become
lethargic and averse to exercise; and having grown to be corpulent
he had lost whatever he had possessed in height by becoming broad,
and looked to be a fat dwarf. Still there would have been something
pleasant in his face but for an air of doubt and hesitation which
seemed almost to betray cowardice. At the present moment he stood
in the middle of the room rubbing his hands together, and almost
trembling as he explained to George Roden who he was.
"I had certainly wished to see his lordship himself," said Roden.
"The Marquis has thought it better not, and I must say that I agree
with the Marquis." At the moment Roden hardly knew how to go on with
the business in hand. "I believe I am justified in assuring you that
anything you would have said to the Marquis you may say to me."
"Am I to understand that Lord Kingsbury refuses to see me?"
"Well;--yes. At the present crisis he does refuse. What can be
gained?"
Roden did not as yet know how far he might go in mentioning the name
of Lady Frances to the clergyman, but was unwilling to leave the
house without some reference to the business he had in hand. He was
peculiarly averse to leaving an impression that he was afraid to
mention what he had done. "I had to speak to his lordship about his
daughter," he said.
"I know; I know; Lady Frances! I have known Lady Frances since she
was a little child. I have the warmest regard for Lady Frances,--as
I have also for Lord Hampstead,--and for the Marchioness, and for
her three dear little boys, Lord Frederic, Lord Augustus, and Lord
Gregory. I feel a natural hesitation in calling them my friends
because I think that the difference in rank and station which it has
pleased the Lord to institute should be maintained with all their
privileges and all their honours. Though I have agreed with the
Marquis through a long life in those political tenets by propagating
which he has been ever anxious to improve the condition of the lower
classes, I am not and have not been on that account less anxious to
uphold by any small means which may be in my power those variations
in rank, to which, I think, in conjunction with the Protestant
religion, the welfare and high standing of this country are mainly to
be attributed. Having these feelings at my heart very strongly I do
not wish, particularly on such an occasion as this, to seem by even a
chance word to diminish the respect which I feel to be due to all the
members of a family of a rank so exalted as that which belongs to the
family of the Marquis of Kingsbury. Putting that aside for a moment,
I perhaps may venture on this occasion, having had confided to me a
task so delicate as the present, to declare my warm friendship for
all who bear the honoured name of Trafford. I am at any rate entitled
to declare myself so far a friend, that you may say anything on this
delicate subject which you would think it necessary to say to the
young lady's father. However inexpedient it may be that anything
should be said at all, I have been instructed by his lordship to
hear,--and to reply."
George Roden, while he was listening to this tedious sermon, was
standing opposite to the preacher with his hat in his hand, having
not yet had accorded to him the favour of a seat. During the
preaching of the sermon the preacher had never ceased to shiver and
shake, rubbing one fat little clammy hand slowly over the other, and
apparently afraid to look his audience in the face. It seemed to
Roden as though the words must have been learnt by heart, they came
so glibly, with so much of unction and of earnestness, and were in
their glibness so strongly opposed to the man's manner. There had not
been a single word spoken that had not been offensive to Roden. It
seemed to him that they had been chosen because of their offence.
In all those long-winded sentences about rank in which Mr. Greenwood
had expressed his own humility and insufficiency for the position of
friend in a family so exalted he had manifestly intended to signify
the much more manifest insufficiency of his hearer to fill a place
of higher honour even than that of friend. Had the words come at the
spur of the moment, the man must, thought Roden, have great gifts for
extempore preaching. He had thought the time in the hall to be long,
but it had not been much for the communication of the Earl's wishes,
and then for the preparation of all these words. It was necessary,
however, that he must make his reply without any preparation.
"I have come," he said, "to tell Lord Kingsbury that I am in love
with his daughter." At hearing this the fat little man held up both
his hands in amazement,--although he had already made it clear that
he was acquainted with all the circumstances. "And I should have been
bound to add," said Roden, plucking up all his courage, "that the
young lady is also in love with me."
"Oh,--oh,--oh!" The hands went higher and higher as these
interjections were made.
"Why not? Is not the truth the best?"
"A young man, Mr. Roden, should never boast of a young lady's
affection,--particularly of such a young lady;--particularly when
I cannot admit that it exists;--particularly not in her father's
house."
"Nobody should boast of anything, Mr. Greenwood. I speak of a fact
which it is necessary that a father should know. If the lady denies
the assertion I have done."
"It is a matter in which delicacy demands that no question shall be
put to the young lady. After what has occurred, it is out of the
question that your name should even be mentioned in the young lady's
hearing."
"Why?--I mean to marry her."
"Mean!"--this word was shouted in the extremity of Mr. Greenwood's
horror. "Mr. Roden, it is my duty to assure you that under no
circumstances can you ever see the young lady again."
"Who says so?"
"The Marquis says so,--and the Marchioness,--and her little brothers,
who with their growing strength will protect her from all harm."
"I hope their growing strength may not be wanted for any such
purpose. Should it be so I am sure they will not be deficient as
brothers. At present there could not be much for them to do." Mr.
Greenwood shook his head. He was still standing, not having moved
an inch from the position in which he had been placed when the
door was opened. "I can understand, Mr. Greenwood, that any further
conversation on the subject between you and me must be quite
useless."
"Quite useless," said Mr. Greenwood.
"But it has been necessary for my honour, and for my purpose, that
Lord Kingsbury should know that I had come to ask him for his
daughter's hand. I had not dared to expect that he would accept my
proposal graciously."
"No, no; hardly that, Mr. Roden."
"But it was necessary that he should know my purpose from myself. He
will now, no doubt, do so. He is, as I understand you, aware of my
presence in the house." Mr. Greenwood shook his head, as though he
would say that this was a matter he could not any longer discuss. "If
not, I must trouble his lordship with a letter."
"That will be unnecessary."
"He does know." Mr. Greenwood nodded his head. "And you will tell him
why I have come?"
"The Marquis shall be made acquainted with the nature of the
interview."
Roden then turned to leave the room, but was obliged to ask Mr.
Greenwood to show him the way along the passages. This the clergyman
did, tripping on, ahead, upon his toes, till he had delivered the
intruder over to the hall porter. Having done so, he made as it were
a valedictory bow, and tripped back to his own apartment. Then Roden
left the house, thinking as he did so that there was certainly much
to be done before he could be received there as a welcome son-in-law.
As he made his way back to Holloway he again considered it all. How
could there be an end to this,--an end that would be satisfactory to
himself and to the girl that he loved? The aversion expressed to him
through the person of Mr. Greenwood was natural. It could not but be
expected that such a one as the Marquis of Kingsbury should endeavour
to keep his daughter out of the hands of such a suitor. If it were
only in regard to money would it not be necessary for him to do so?
Every possible barricade would be built up in his way. There would be
nothing on his side except the girl's love for himself. Was it to be
expected that her love would have power to conquer such obstacles as
these? And if it were, would she obtain her own happiness by clinging
to it? He was aware that in his present position no duty was so
incumbent on him as that of looking to the happiness of the woman
whom he wished to make his wife.