Sir Louis Goes Out to Dinner
The next day Joe did not make his appearance, and Sir Louis, with
many execrations, was driven to the terrible necessity of dressing
himself. Then came an unexpected difficulty: how were they to get up
to the house? Walking out to dinner, though it was merely through
the village and up the avenue, seemed to Sir Louis to be a thing
impossible. Indeed, he was not well able to walk at all, and
positively declared that he should never be able to make his way over
the gravel in pumps. His mother would not have thought half as much
of walking from Boxall Hill to Greshamsbury and back again. At last,
the one village fly was sent for, and the matter was arranged.
When they reached the house, it was easy to see that there was some
unwonted bustle. In the drawing-room there was no one but Mr Mortimer
Gazebee, who introduced himself to them both. Sir Louis, who knew
that he was only an attorney, did not take much notice of him, but
the doctor entered into conversation.
"Have you heard that Mr Gresham has come home?" said Mr Gazebee.
"Mr Gresham! I did not know that he had been away."
"Mr Gresham, junior, I mean." No, indeed; the doctor had not heard.
Frank had returned unexpectedly just before dinner, and he was now
undergoing his father's smiles, his mother's embraces, and his
sisters' questions.
"Quite unexpectedly," said Mr Gazebee. "I don't know what has brought
him back before his time. I suppose he found London too hot."
"Deuced hot," said the baronet. "I found it so, at least. I don't
know what keeps men in London when it's so hot; except those fellows
who have business to do: they're paid for it."
Mr Mortimer Gazebee looked at him. He was managing an estate which
owed Sir Louis an enormous sum of money, and, therefore, he could not
afford to despise the baronet; but he thought to himself, what a very
abject fellow the man would be if he were not a baronet, and had not
a large fortune!
And then the squire came in. His broad, honest face was covered with
a smile when he saw the doctor.
"Thorne," he said, almost in a whisper, "you're the best fellow
breathing; I have hardly deserved this." The doctor, as he took his
old friend's hand, could not but be glad that he had followed Mary's
counsel.
"So Frank has come home?"
"Oh, yes; quite unexpectedly. He was to have stayed a week longer in
London. You would hardly know him if you met him. Sir Louis, I beg
your pardon." And the squire went up to his other guest, who had
remained somewhat sullenly standing in one corner of the room. He was
the man of highest rank present, or to be present, and he expected to
be treated as such.
"I am happy to have the pleasure of making your acquaintance,
Mr Gresham," said the baronet, intending to be very courteous.
"Though we have not met before, I very often see your name in my
accounts--ha! ha! ha!" and Sir Louis laughed as though he had said
something very good.
The meeting between Lady Arabella and the doctor was rather
distressing to the former; but she managed to get over it. She shook
hands with him graciously, and said that it was a fine day. The
doctor said that it was fine, only perhaps a little rainy. And then
they went into different parts of the room.
When Frank came in, the doctor hardly did know him. His hair was
darker than it had been, and so was his complexion; but his chief
disguise was in a long silken beard, which hung down over his cravat.
The doctor had hitherto not been much in favour of long beards, but
he could not deny that Frank looked very well with the appendage.
"Oh, doctor, I am so delighted to find you here," said he, coming up
to him; "so very, very glad:" and, taking the doctor's arm, he led
him away into a window, where they were alone. "And how is Mary?"
said he, almost in a whisper. "Oh, I wish she were here! But, doctor,
it shall all come in time. But tell me, doctor, there is no news
about her, is there?"
"News--what news?"
"Oh, well; no news is good news: you will give her my love, won't
you?"
The doctor said that he would. What else could he say? It appeared
quite clear to him that some of Mary's fears were groundless.
Frank was again very much altered. It has been said, that though
he was a boy at twenty-one, he was a man at twenty-two. But now,
at twenty-three, he appeared to be almost a man of the world. His
manners were easy, his voice under his control, and words were at his
command: he was no longer either shy or noisy; but, perhaps, was open
to the charge of seeming, at least, to be too conscious of his own
merits. He was, indeed, very handsome; tall, manly, and powerfully
built, his form was such as women's eyes have ever loved to look
upon. "Ah, if he would but marry money!" said Lady Arabella to
herself, taken up by a mother's natural admiration for her son. His
sisters clung round him before dinner, all talking to him at once.
How proud a family of girls are of one, big, tall, burly brother!
"You don't mean to tell me, Frank, that you are going to eat soup
with that beard?" said the squire, when they were seated round the
table. He had not ceased to rally his son as to this patriarchal
adornment; but, nevertheless, any one could have seen, with half an
eye, that he was as proud of it as were the others.
"Don't I, sir? All I require is a relay of napkins for every course:"
and he went to work, covering it with every spoonful, as men with
beards always do.
"Well, if you like it!" said the squire, shrugging his shoulders.
"But I do like it," said Frank.
"Oh, papa, you wouldn't have him cut it off," said one of the twins.
"It is so handsome."
"I should like to work it into a chair-back instead of floss-silk,"
said the other twin.
"Thank'ee, Sophy; I'll remember you for that."
"Doesn't it look nice, and grand, and patriarchal?" said Beatrice,
turning to her neighbour.
"Patriarchal, certainly," said Mr Oriel. "I should grow one myself if
I had not the fear of the archbishop before my eyes."
What was next said to him was in a whisper, audible only to himself.
"Doctor, did you know Wildman of the 9th? He was left as surgeon at
Scutari for two years. Why, my beard to his is only a little down."
"A little way down, you mean," said Mr Gazebee.
"Yes," said Frank, resolutely set against laughing at Mr Gazebee's
pun. "Why, his beard descends to his ankles, and he is obliged to tie
it in a bag at night, because his feet get entangled in it when he is
asleep!"
"Oh, Frank!" said one of the girls.
This was all very well for the squire, and Lady Arabella, and the
girls. They were all delighted to praise Frank, and talk about him.
Neither did it come amiss to Mr Oriel and the doctor, who had both a
personal interest in the young hero. But Sir Louis did not like it
at all. He was the only baronet in the room, and yet nobody took any
notice of him. He was seated in the post of honour, next to Lady
Arabella; but even Lady Arabella seemed to think more of her own
son than of him. Seeing how he was ill-used, he meditated revenge;
but not the less did it behove him to make some effort to attract
attention.
"Was your ladyship long in London, this season?" said he.
Lady Arabella had not been in London at all this year, and it
was a sore subject with her. "No," said she, very graciously;
"circumstances have kept us at home."
Sir Louis only understood one description of "circumstances."
Circumstances, in his idea, meant the want of money, and he
immediately took Lady Arabella's speech as a confession of poverty.
"Ah, indeed! I am very sorry for that; that must be very distressing
to a person like your ladyship. But things are mending, perhaps?"
Lady Arabella did not in the least understand him. "Mending!" she
said, in her peculiar tone of aristocratic indifference; and then
turned to Mr Gazebee, who was on the other side of her.
Sir Louis was not going to stand this. He was the first man in the
room, and he knew his own importance. It was not to be borne that
Lady Arabella should turn to talk to a dirty attorney, and leave him,
a baronet, to eat his dinner without notice. If nothing else would
move her, he would let her know who was the real owner of the
Greshamsbury title-deeds.
"I think I saw your ladyship out to-day, taking a ride." Lady
Arabella had driven through the village in her pony-chair.
"I never ride," said she, turning her head for one moment from Mr
Gazebee.
"In the one-horse carriage, I mean, my lady. I was delighted with the
way you whipped him up round the corner."
Whipped him up round the corner! Lady Arabella could make no answer
to this; so she went on talking to Mr Gazebee. Sir Louis, repulsed,
but not vanquished--resolved not to be vanquished by any Lady
Arabella--turned his attention to his plate for a minute or two, and
then recommenced.
"The honour of a glass of wine with you, Lady Arabella," said he.
"I never take wine at dinner," said Lady Arabella. The man was
becoming intolerable to her, and she was beginning to fear that it
would be necessary for her to fly the room to get rid of him.
The baronet was again silent for a moment; but he was determined not
to be put down.
"This is a nice-looking country about here," said he.
"Yes; very nice," said Mr Gazebee, endeavouring to relieve the lady
of the mansion.
"I hardly know which I like best; this, or my own place at Boxall
Hill. You have the advantage here in trees, and those sort of things.
But, as to the house, why, my box there is very comfortable, very.
You'd hardly know the place now, Lady Arabella, if you haven't seen
it since my governor bought it. How much do you think he spent about
the house and grounds, pineries included, you know, and those sort of
things?"
Lady Arabella shook her head.
"Now guess, my lady," said he. But it was not to be supposed that
Lady Arabella should guess on such a subject.
"I never guess," said she, with a look of ineffable disgust.
"What do you say, Mr Gazebee?"
"Perhaps a hundred thousand pounds."
"What! for a house! You can't know much about money, nor yet about
building, I think, Mr Gazebee."
"Not much," said Mr Gazebee, "as to such magnificent places as Boxall
Hill."
"Well, my lady, if you won't guess, I'll tell you. It cost twenty-two
thousand four hundred and nineteen pounds four shillings and
eightpence. I've all the accounts exact. Now, that's a tidy lot of
money for a house for a man to live in."
Sir Louis spoke this in a loud tone, which at least commanded the
attention of the table. Lady Arabella, vanquished, bowed her head,
and said that it was a large sum; Mr Gazebee went on sedulously
eating his dinner; the squire was struck momentarily dumb in the
middle of a long chat with the doctor; even Mr Oriel ceased to
whisper; and the girls opened their eyes with astonishment. Before
the end of his speech, Sir Louis's voice had become very loud.
"Yes, indeed," said Frank; "a very tidy lot of money. I'd have
generously dropped the four and eightpence if I'd been the
architect."
"It wasn't all one bill; but that's the tot. I can show the bills:"
and Sir Louis, well pleased with his triumph, swallowed a glass of
wine.
Almost immediately after the cloth was removed, Lady Arabella
escaped, and the gentlemen clustered together. Sir Louis found
himself next to Mr Oriel, and began to make himself agreeable.
"A very nice girl, Miss Beatrice; very nice."
Now Mr Oriel was a modest man, and, when thus addressed as to his
future wife, found it difficult to make any reply.
"You parsons always have your own luck," said Sir Louis. "You get all
the beauty, and generally all the money, too. Not much of the latter
in this case, though--eh?"
Mr Oriel was dumbfounded. He had never said a word to any creature as
to Beatrice's dowry; and when Mr Gresham had told him, with sorrow,
that his daughter's portion must be small, he had at once passed away
from the subject as one that was hardly fit for conversation, even
between him and his future father-in-law; and now he was abruptly
questioned on the subject by a man he had never before seen in his
life. Of course, he could make no answer.
"The squire has muddled his matters most uncommonly," continued Sir
Louis, filling his glass for the second time before he passed the
bottle. "What do you suppose now he owes me alone; just at one lump,
you know?"
Mr Oriel had nothing for it but to run. He could make no answer, nor
would he sit there to hear tidings as to Mr Gresham's embarrassments.
So he fairly retreated, without having said one word to his
neighbour, finding such discretion to be the only kind of valour left
to him.
"What, Oriel! off already?" said the squire. "Anything the matter?"
"Oh, no; nothing particular. I'm not just quite--I think I'll go out
for a few minutes."
"See what it is to be in love," said the squire, half-whispering to
Dr Thorne. "You're not in the same way, I hope?"
Sir Louis then shifted his seat again, and found himself next to
Frank. Mr Gazebee was opposite to him, and the doctor opposite to
Frank.
"Parson seems peekish, I think," said the baronet.
"Peekish?" said the squire, inquisitively.
"Rather down on his luck. He's decently well off himself, isn't he?"
There was another pause, and nobody seemed inclined to answer the
question.
"I mean, he's got something more than his bare living."
"Oh, yes," said Frank, laughing. "He's got what will buy him bread
and cheese when the Rads shut up the Church:--unless, indeed, they
shut up the Funds too."
"Ah, there's nothing like land," said Sir Louis: "nothing like the
dirty acres; is there, squire?"
"Land is a very good investment, certainly," said Mr Gresham.
"The best going," said the other, who was now, as people say when
they mean to be good-natured, slightly under the influence of liquor.
"The best going--eh, Gazebee?"
Mr Gazebee gathered himself up, and turned away his head, looking out
of the window.
"You lawyers never like to give an opinion without money, ha! ha! ha!
Do they, Mr Gresham? You and I have had to pay for plenty of them,
and will have to pay for plenty more before they let us alone."
Here Mr Gazebee got up, and followed Mr Oriel out of the room. He was
not, of course, on such intimate terms in the house as was Mr Oriel;
but he hoped to be forgiven by the ladies in consequence of the
severity of the miseries to which he was subjected. He and Mr Oriel
were soon to be seen through the dining-room window, walking about
the grounds with the two eldest Miss Greshams. And Patience Oriel,
who had also been of the party, was also to be seen with the twins.
Frank looked at his father with almost a malicious smile, and began
to think that he too might be better employed out among the walks.
Did he think then of a former summer evening, when he had half broken
Mary's heart by walking there too lovingly with Patience Oriel?
Sir Louis, if he continued his brilliant career of success, would
soon be left the cock of the walk. The squire, to be sure, could
not bolt, nor could the doctor very well; but they might be equally
vanquished, remaining there in their chairs. Dr Thorne, during all
this time, was sitting with tingling ears. Indeed, it may be said
that his whole body tingled. He was in a manner responsible for this
horrid scene; but what could he do to stop it? He could not take Sir
Louis up bodily and carry him away. One idea did occur to him. The
fly had been ordered for ten o'clock. He could rush out and send for
it instantly.
"You're not going to leave me?" said the squire, in a voice of
horror, as he saw the doctor rising from his chair.
"Oh, no, no, no," said the doctor; and then he whispered the purpose
of his mission. "I will be back in two minutes." The doctor would
have given twenty pounds to have closed the scene at once; but he was
not the man to desert his friend in such a strait as that.
"He's a well-meaning fellow, the doctor," said Sir Louis, when his
guardian was out of the room, "very; but he's not up to trap--not at
all."
"Up to trap--well, I should say he was; that is, if I know what trap
means," said Frank.
"Ah, but that's just the ticket. Do you know? Now I say Dr Thorne's
not a man of the world."
"He's about the best man I know, or ever heard of," said the squire.
"And if any man ever had a good friend, you have got one in him; and
so have I:" and the squire silently drank the doctor's health.
"All very true, I dare say; but yet he's not up to trap. Now look
here, squire--"
"If you don't mind, sir," said Frank, "I've got something very
particular--perhaps, however--"
"Stay till Thorne returns, Frank."
Frank did stay till Thorne returned, and then escaped.
"Excuse me, doctor," said he, "but I've something very particular to
say; I'll explain to-morrow." And then the three were left alone.
Sir Louis was now becoming almost drunk, and was knocking his words
together. The squire had already attempted to stop the bottle; but
the baronet had contrived to get hold of a modicum of Madeira, and
there was no preventing him from helping himself; at least, none at
that moment.
"As we were saying about lawyers," continued Sir Louis. "Let's see,
what were we saying? Why, squire, it's just here. Those fellows will
fleece us both if we don't mind what we are after."
"Never mind about lawyers now," said Dr Thorne, angrily.
"Ah, but I do mind; most particularly. That's all very well for you,
doctor; you've nothing to lose. You've no great stake in the matter.
Why, now, what sum of money of mine do you think those d---- doctors
are handling?"
"D---- doctors!" said the squire in a tone of dismay.
"Lawyers, I mean, of course. Why, now, Gresham; we're all totted
now, you see; you're down in my books, I take it, for pretty near a
hundred thousand pounds."
"Hold your tongue, sir," said the doctor, getting up.
"Hold my tongue!" said Sir Louis.
"Sir Louis Scatcherd," said the squire, slowly rising from his chair,
"we will not, if you please, talk about business at the present
moment. Perhaps we had better go to the ladies."
This latter proposition had certainly not come from the squire's
heart: going to the ladies was the very last thing for which Sir
Louis was now fit. But the squire had said it as being the only
recognised formal way he could think of for breaking up the
symposium.
"Oh, very well," hiccupped the baronet, "I'm always ready for the
ladies," and he stretched out his hand to the decanter to get a last
glass of Madeira.
"No," said the doctor, rising stoutly, and speaking with a determined
voice. "No; you will have no more wine:" and he took the decanter
from him.
"What's all this about?" said Sir Louis, with a drunken laugh.
"Of course he cannot go into the drawing-room, Mr Gresham. If you
will leave him here with me, I will stay with him till the fly
comes. Pray tell Lady Arabella from me, how sorry I am that this has
occurred."
The squire would not leave his friend, and they sat together till the
fly came. It was not long, for the doctor had dispatched his
messenger with much haste.
"I am so heartily ashamed of myself," said the doctor, almost with
tears.
The squire took him by the hand affectionately. "I've seen a tipsy
man before to-night," said he.
"Yes," said the doctor, "and so have I, but--" He did not express the
rest of his thoughts.