DICK TAKES HIS FINAL LEAVE.
When Sir Francis received the reply which Miss Altifiorla sent to his
letter, he was not altogether satisfied with it. He had expected that
the lady would at once have flown into his arms. But the lady seemed
to hesitate, and asked for a week to think about it. This showed
so much ingratitude on her part,--was so poor an acknowledgment of
the position which he had offered her, that he was inclined to be
indignant. "D---- it; if she don't care about it she sha'n't have
it." It was thus that he expressed himself aloud in the hearing of
Dick Ross; but without however explaining who the she was, or what
the it was, or indeed in any way asking Dick's opinion on the matter.
Not the less had Miss Altifiorla been wise in the nature of the
reply which she had given. Had she expressed her warm affection, and
at once accepted all that had been proffered, the gentleman would
probably have learnt at once to despise that which had been obtained
so easily. As it was he was simply cross, and thought that he had
determined to withdraw the proposal. But still the other letter was
to come, and Miss Altifiorla's chance was still open to her.
The immediate consequence of these doubts in the mind of Sir Francis
was a postponement of the verdict of banishment which he had
resolved to pronounce against Dick as soon as his marriage with
Miss Altifiorla should have been settled. He did not wish to leave
himself altogether alone in the world, and if this Dick were
dismissed it would be necessary that he should provide himself with
another,--unless he were minded to provide himself with a wife
instead. He became therefore gradually more gracious after the little
speech which has been above given. Dick had understood perfectly who
the "she" had been, and what was the "it" intended. As no question
had been asked he had made no reply, but he was quite quick enough
to perceive the working of the Baronet's mind. He despised the
Baronet almost as thoroughly as did Mr. Western. But for certain
purposes,--as to which he despised himself also,--the friendship of
the Baronet suited him just at present.
One morning, for private reasons of his own, Dick went into Perth,
which was twenty miles distant from the Baronet's shooting lodge, and
returned the same day bringing the postbag with him from a point in
the road at which it was daily left by the postman. Sir Francis with
unusual haste read his letters, and among them was one from Miss
Altifiorla. But Dick had a budget of news which he was anxious to
reveal, and which he did tell before Sir Francis had said anything as
to his own letter. There was another friend, one Captain Fawkes, at
the Lodge with them, and Dick had at first been restrained by this
man's presence. As soon as he found himself alone with Sir Francis he
began. "Lady Grant has gone off to Dresden," he said.
"Where did you hear that?" asked the Baronet.
"They told me so at the club. Everybody in Perth knows that she has
gone;--and why."
"What business is it of theirs? Since you know so much about it, why
has she gone?"
"To persuade her brother to come home and take his wife once more. It
was an infernal shame that they should ever have been separated. In
fact she has gone to undo what you did. If she can only succeed in
making the man know the whole truth about it, free from all lies,
she'll do what she's gone to do."
"What the devil do you mean by lies?" said Sir Francis, rising in
wrath from his chair.
"Well; lies mean lies. As I haven't applied the word to anyone I
suppose I may be allowed to use it and to stand by it. I suppose you
know what lies mean, and I suppose you are aware that Western has
been made to believe lies about his wife."
"Who told them?"
"I say nothing about that," said Dick. "Lies are a sort of thing
which are very commonly told, and are ordinarily ascribed to the
world at large. The world never quarrels with the accusation. The
world has told most infernal lies to this man about his wife. I don't
suppose the world means to call me out for saying as much as that."
Then the two remained silent for some moments and Dick proceeded with
his eloquence. "Of course there have been lies,--damnable lies. Had a
man, or a woman,--it's all one,--gone to that poor creature with a
pistol in his hand and blown her brains out he wouldn't have done a
more dastardly action."
"What the devil do you mean by that?" said the other.
"I'm not talking about you,--specially. I say lies have been told;
but I do not say who has told them. I rather suspect a woman to be at
the bottom of it." Sir Francis who had in his pocket a most tender
and loving reply from Miss Altifiorla knew very well who was the lady
to whom Dick referred. "That man has been made to believe certain
things about his wife which are all lies,--lies from beginning to
end."
"He has been made to believe that she was engaged to me first. Is
that a lie?"
"That depends on the way in which it was told. He didn't send her
home merely for that. I am not saying what the lies were, but they
were damnable lies. You sometimes tell me that I ain't any better
than another,--or generally a great deal worse. But I'd rather have
blown my brains out than have told such lies about a woman as have
been told here by somebody. You ask me what they were saying at the
club in Perth. Now you know it pretty well all."
It must be supposed that what had passed at the club had induced Dick
to determine that it would no longer become him to remain with Sir
Francis as his humble friend. Very evil things had in truth been
said of Sir Francis, and they were more than Dick could endure. The
natural indignation of the man was aroused, so that by degrees it had
come to pass that he hated the Baronet. He had before said very sharp
words to him, but had now gone home resolved in his righteous mind to
bring things to a conclusion. It matters little in the telling of our
story to know what lies Dick did in truth impute to his friend; but
they were of a nature to fill his mind with righteous wrath and to
produce from him the eloquence above described.
Sir Francis, whose vanity had been charmed by the letter which he
kept in his pocket, had already made up his mind to part with Dick.
But Dick's words as now spoken left him no alternative. It was a
question with him whether he could not so part with him as to inflict
some further punishment. "Why, Dick," he said smiling, "you have
broken out quite in a new place."
"I know nothing about that."
"You must have been with the Bishop and taken a lesson in preaching.
I never heard you come out so strong before."
"I wish you'd heard what some of those men at Perth said about you."
"And how you answered them as my friend."
"As far as I remember I didn't say much myself. What I did say
certainly was not in your favour. But I was hardest on that sweet
young lady with the Italian name. You won't mind that because you and
she are two, now."
"Can you tell me, Ross, how long you have been eating my bread?"
"I suppose I could."
"Or how much you have drank of my wine?"
"I haven't made a calculation of that nature. It isn't usual."
"For shooting here, how much have you ever contributed?"
"When I shoot I contribute nothing. All the world understands that."
"How much money do you owe me?"
"I owe you nothing that I've ever promised to pay."
"And now you think it a sign of a fine gentleman to go and talk
openly at a club about matters which you have heard from me in
confidence! I don't. I think it a very--"
"A very what, Sir Francis? I have not done as you allege. But you
were going to observe a very--; what was it?" It must be here
explained that Dick Ross was not a man who feared many things; but
that Sir Francis feared much. Dick had little to lose by a row,
whereas the Baronet would be injured. The Baronet therefore declined
to fill in the epithet which he had omitted. He knew from former
experience what Dick would and what he would not bear.
"I don't choose to descend to Billingsgate," said Sir Francis. "I
have my own ideas as to your conduct."
"Very gentlemanlike, isn't it?" said Dick, with a smile, meaning
thereby to impute it to Sir Francis as cowardice that he was
unwilling to say the reverse.
"But, under all the circumstances, it will be quite as well that you
should leave the Lodge. You must feel that yourself."
"Oh; quite so. I am delighted to think that I shall be able to leave
without having had any unpleasant words. Perhaps to-morrow will do?"
"Just as you please."
"Then I shall be able to add a few drops to all those buckets of
claret which you threw in my teeth just now. I wonder whether any
gentleman was ever before asked by another gentleman how much wine
he had drank in his house, or how many dinners he had eaten. When
you asked me did you expect me to pay for my dinners and wine?" Sir
Francis refused to make any reply to this question. "And when you
delicately hinted at my poverty, had you found my finances to be
lower than you'd always known them? It is disagreeable to be a
penniless younger brother. I have found it so all my life. And I
admit that I ought to have earned my bread. It would have been much
better for me had I done so. People may declare that I am good for
nothing, and may hold me up as an example to be shunned. But I
flatter myself that nobody has called me a blackguard. I have told
no lies to injure men behind their backs;--much less have I done so
to injure a woman. I have sacrificed no girl to my revenge, simply
because she has thrown me over. In the little transactions I have
had I have always run straight. Now I think that upon the whole I
had better go before dinner, and not add anything to the bucket of
claret."
"Just as you please," said Sir Francis. Then Dick Ross left the room
and went away to make such arrangements for his departure as were
possible to him, and the readers of this story shall see him and hear
him no more.
Sir Francis when he was left alone took out Miss Altifiorla's letter
and read it again. He was a man who could assume grand manners in his
personal intercourse with women, but was peculiarly apt to receive
impression from them. He loved to be flattered, and was prone to
believe anything good of himself that was said to him by one of them.
He therefore took the following letter for more than it was worth.
MY DEAR SIR FRANCIS,--I know that you will have been quite
quick enough to have understood when you received my
former little scrawl what my answer would be. When a woman
attempts to deceive a man in such a matter she knows
beforehand that the attempt will be vain; and I certainly
did not think that I could succeed with you. But yet a
feeling of shamefacedness,--what some ladies consider as
modesty, though it might more properly be called _mauvaise
honte_,--forced me into temporary silence. What could I
wish better than to be loved by such a one as you? In the
first place there is the rank which goes for much with
me. Then there is the money, which I admit counts for
something. I would never have allowed myself to marry even
if I had chanced to love a poor man. Then there are the
manners, and the peculiar station before the world, which
is quite separate from the rank. To me these alone are
irresistible. Shall I say too that personal appearance
does count for much. I can fancy myself marrying an ugly
man, but I can fancy also that I could not do it without
something of disgust.
Miss Altifiorla when she wrote this had understood well that vanity
and love of flattery were conspicuous traits in the character of her
admirer.
Having owned so much, what is there more to say than that
I am the happiest woman between the seas?
The reader must be here told that this letter had been copied out a
second time because in the first copy she had allowed the word girl
to pass in the above sentence. Something told her that she had better
write woman instead, and she had written it.
What more is there for me to add to the above except
to tell you that I love you with all my heart. Months
ago,--it seems to be years now,--when Cecilia Holt had
caught your fancy, I did regard her as the most fortunate
girl. But I did not regard you as the happiest of men,
because I felt sure that there was a something between you
which would not suit. There is an asperity, rather than
strictness, about her which I knew your spirit would not
brook. She would have borne the battlings which would
have arisen with an equal temper. She can indeed bear all
things with equanimity--as she does her present position.
But you, though you would have battled and have conquered,
would still have suffered. I do not think that the wife
you now desire is one with whom you will have to wage
war. Shall I say that if you marry her whom you have now
asked to join her lot with yours, there will be no such
fighting? I think that I shall know how to hold my own
against the world as your wife. But with you I shall only
attempt to hold my own by making myself one with you in
all your desires and aspirations.
I am yours with all my heart, with all my body and soul.
FRANCESCA.
I say nothing now about the immediate future, but I hope
it will please your highness to visit your most worthy
clerical relations in this cathedral city before long. I
shall say nothing to any of your clerical relations as
to my prospects in life until I shall have received your
sanction for doing so. But the sooner I do receive it the
better for my peace of mind.
Sir Francis was upon the whole delighted with the letter, and the
more delighted as he now read it for the third time. "There is such
an air of truth in every word of it." It was thus that he spoke to
himself about the letter as he sucked in the flattery. It was thus
that Miss Altifiorla had intended that he should receive it. She knew
herself too well to suspect that her flattery should fail. Not a word
of it failed. In nothing was he more gratified than in her allusions
to his matrimonial efforts with Miss Holt. She had assured him that
he would have finally conquered that strong-minded young woman.
But she had at the same time told him of the extreme tenderness of
his heart. He absolutely believed her when she whispered to him
her secret,--that she had envied Cecilia her lot when Cecilia was
supposed to be the happy bride. He quite understood those allusions
to his own pleasures and her assurance that she would never interfere
with him. There was just a doubt whether a thing so easily got
could be worth the keeping. But then he remembered his cousin and
determined to be a man of his word.