MR. PROSPER IS VISITED BY HIS LAWYERS.
Mr. Prosper had not been in good spirits at the time at which Mountjoy
Scarborough had visited him. He had received some time previously a
letter from Mr. Grey, as described in a previous chapter, and had also
known exactly what proposal had been made by Mr. Grey to Messrs. Soames
& Simpson. An equal division of the lady's income, one half to go to the
lady herself, and the other half to Mr. Prosper, with an annuity of two
hundred and fifty pounds out of the estate for the lady if Mr. Prosper
should die first: these were the terms which had been offered to Miss
Thoroughbung with the object of inducing her to become the wife of Mr.
Prosper. But to these terms Miss Thoroughbung had declined to accede,
and had gone about the arrangement of her money-matters in a most
precise and business-like manner. A third of her income she would give
up, since Mr. Prosper desired it; but more than that she "would owe it
to herself and her friends to decline to abandon." The payment for the
fish and the champagne must be omitted from any agreement on her part.
As to the ponies, and their harness, and the pony-carriage, she would
supply them. The ponies and the carriage would be indispensable to her
happiness. But the maintenance of the ponies must be left to Mr.
Prosper. As for the dower, she could not consent to accept less than
four hundred--or five hundred, if no house was to be provided. She
thought that seven hundred and fifty would be little enough if there
were no children, as in that case there was no heir for whom Mr. Prosper
was especially anxious. But as there probably would be children, Miss
Thoroughbung thought that this was a matter to which Mr. Prosper would
not give much consideration. Throughout it all she maintained a
beautiful equanimity, and made two or three efforts to induce Mr.
Prosper to repeat his visit to Marmaduke Lodge. She herself wrote to him
saying that she thought it odd that, considering their near alliance, he
should not come and see her. Once she said that she had heard that he
was ill, and offered to go to Buston Hall to visit him.
All this was extremely distressing to a gentleman of Mr. Prosper's
delicate feelings. As to the proposals in regard to money, the letters
from Soames & Simpson to Grey & Barry, all of which came down to Buston
Hall, seemed to be innumerable.
With Soames & Simpson Mr. Prosper declined to have any personal
communication. But every letter from the Buntingford attorneys was
accompanied by a farther letter from the London attorneys, till the
correspondence became insupportable. Mr. Prosper was not strong enough
to stick firmly to his guns as planted for him by Messrs. Grey & Barry.
He did give way in some matters, and hence arose renewed letters which
nearly drove him mad. Messrs. Soames & Simpson's client was willing to
accept four hundred pounds as the amount of the dower without reference
to the house, and to this Mr. Prosper yielded. He did not much care
about any heir as yet unborn, and felt by no means so certain in regard
to children as did the lady. But he fought hard about the ponies. He
could not undertake that his wife should have ponies. That must be left
to him as master of the house. He thought that a pair of carriage-horses
for her use would be sufficient. He had always kept a carriage, and
intended to do so. She might bring her ponies if she pleased, but if he
thought well to part with them he would sell them. He found himself
getting deeper and deeper into the quagmire, till he began to doubt
whether he should be able to extricate himself unmarried if he were
anxious to do so. And all the while there came affectionate little notes
from Miss Thoroughbung asking after his health, and recommending him
what to take, till he entertained serious thoughts of going to Cairo for
the winter.
Then Mr. Barry came down to see him after Mountjoy had made his visit.
It was now January, and the bargaining about the marriage had gone on
for more than two months. The letter which he had received from the
Squire of Tretton had moved him; but he had told himself that the
property was his own, and that he had a right to enjoy it as he liked
best.
Whatever might have been Harry's faults in regard to that midnight
affair, it had certainly been true that he had declined to hear the
sermons. Mr. Prosper did not exactly mention the sermons to himself, but
there was present to him a feeling that his heir had been wilfully
disobedient, and the sermons no doubt had been the cause. When he had
read the old squire's letter he did not as yet wish to forgive his
nephew. He was becoming very tired of his courtship, but in his
estimation the wife would be better than the nephew. Though he had been
much put out by the precocity of that embrace, there was nevertheless a
sweetness about it which lingered on his lips. Then Mountjoy had come
down, and he had answered Mountjoy very stoutly: "A lie!" he had
exclaimed. "Did he tell a lie?" he had asked, as though all must be over
with a young man who had once allowed himself to depart from the rigid
truth. Mountjoy had made what excuse he could, but Mr. Prosper had been
very stern.
On the very day after Mountjoy's coming Mr. Barry came. His visit had
been arranged, and Mr. Prosper was, with great care, prepared to
encounter him. He was wrapped in his best dressing-gown, and Matthew had
shaved him with the greatest care. The girls over at the parsonage
declared that their uncle had sent into Buntingford for a special pot of
pomatum. The story was told to Joe Thoroughbung in order that it might
be passed on to his aunt, and no doubt it did travel as it was intended.
But Miss Thoroughbung cared nothing for the pomatum with which the
lawyer from London was to be received. It would be very hard to laugh
her out of her lover while the title-deeds to Buston held good. But Mr.
Prosper had felt that it would be necessary to look his best, so that
his marriage might be justified in the eyes of the lawyer.
Mr. Barry was shown into the book-room at Buston, in which Mr. Prosper
was seated ready to receive him. The two gentlemen had never before met
each other, and Mr. Prosper did no doubt assume something of the manner
of an aristocratic owner of land. He would not have done so had Mr. Grey
come in his partner's place. But there was a humility about Mr. Barry on
an occasion such as the present, which justified a little pride on the
part of the client. "I am sorry to give you the trouble to come down,
Mr. Barry," he said. "I hope the servant has shown you your room."
"I shall be back in London to-day, Mr. Prosper, thank you. I must see
these lawyers here, and when I have received your final instructions I
will return to Buntingford." Then Mr. Prosper pressed him much to stay.
He had quite expected, he said, that Mr. Barry would have done him the
pleasure of remaining at any rate one night at Buston. But Mr. Barry
settled the question by saying that he had not brought a dress-coat. Mr.
Prosper did not care to sit down to dinner with guests who did not bring
their dress-coats. "And now," continued Mr. Barry, "what final
instructions are we to give to Soames & Simpson?"
"I don't think much of Messrs. Soames & Simpson."
"I believe they have the name of being honest practitioners."
"I dare say; I do not in the least doubt it. But they are people to whom
I am not at all desirous of intrusting my own private affairs. Messrs.
Soames & Simpson have not, I think, a large county business. I had no
idea that Miss Thoroughbung would have put this affair into their
hands."
"Just so, Mr. Prosper. But I suppose it was necessary for her to employ
somebody. There has been a good deal of correspondence."
"Indeed there has, Mr. Barry."
"It has not been our fault, Mr. Prosper. Now what we have got to decide
is this: What are the final terms which you mean to propose? I think,
sir, the time has come when some final terms should be suggested."
"Just so. Final terms--must be what you call--the very last. That is,
when they have once been offered, you must--must--"
"Just stick to them, Mr. Prosper."
"Exactly, Mr. Barry. That is what I intend. There is nothing I dislike
so much as this haggling about money, especially with a lady. Miss
Thoroughbung is a lady for whom I have the highest possible esteem."
"That's of course."
"For whom, I repeat, I have the highest possible esteem. But she has
friends who have their own ideas as to money. The brewery in Buntingford
belongs to them, and they are very worthy people. I should explain to
you, Mr. Barry, as you are my confidential adviser, that were I about to
form a matrimonial alliance in the heyday of my youth, I should probably
not have thought of connecting myself with the Thoroughbungs. As I have
said before, they are most respectable people; but they do not exactly
belong to that class in which I should, under those circumstances, have
looked for a wife. I might probably have ventured to ask for the hand of
the daughter of some county family. But years have slipped by me, and
now wishing in middle life to procure for myself the comfort of wedded
happiness, I have looked about, and have found no one more likely to
give it me, than Miss Thoroughbung. Her temper is excellent, and her
person pleasing." Mr. Prosper, as he said this, thought of the kiss
which had been bestowed upon him. "Her wit is vivacious, and I think
that upon the whole she will be desirable as a companion. She will not
come to this house empty-handed; but of her pecuniary affairs you
already know so much that I need, perhaps, tell you nothing farther.
But though I am exceedingly desirous to make this lady my wife, and am,
I may say, warmly attached to her, there are certain points which I
cannot sacrifice. Now about the ponies--"
"I think I understand about the ponies. She may bring them on trial."
"I'm not to be bound to keep any ponies at all. There are a pair of
carriage-horses which must suffice. On second thoughts, she had better
not bring the ponies." This decision had at last come from some little
doubt on his mind as to whether he was treating Harry justly.
"And four hundred pounds is the sum fixed on for her jointure."
"She is to have her own money for her own life," said Mr. Prosper.
"That's a matter of course."
"Don't you think that, under these circumstances, four hundred will be
quite enough?"
"Quite enough, if you ask me. But we must decide."
"Four hundred it shall be."
"And she is to have two-thirds of her own money for her own expenses
during your life?" asked Mr. Barry.
"I don't see why she should want six hundred a year for herself; I don't
indeed. I am afraid it will only lead to extravagance!" Barry assumed a
look of despair. "Of course, as I have said so, I will not go back from
my word. She shall have two-thirds. But about the ponies my mind is
quite made up. There shall be no ponies at Buston. I hope you understand
that, Mr. Barry?" Mr. Barry said that he did understand it well, and
then, folding up his papers, prepared to go, congratulating himself that
he would not have to pass a long evening at Buston Hall.
But before he went, and when he had already put on his great-coat in the
hall, Mr. Prosper called him back to ask him one farther question; and
for that purpose he shut the door carefully, and uttered his words in a
whisper. Did Mr. Barry know anything of the life and recent adventures
of Mr. Henry Annesley? Mr. Barry knew nothing; but he thought that his
partner, Mr. Grey, knew something. He had heard Mr. Grey mention the
name of Mr. Henry Annesley. Then as he stood there, enveloped in his
great-coat, with his horse standing in the cold, Mr. Prosper told him
much of the story of Harry Annesley, and asked him to induce Mr. Grey to
write and tell him what he thought of Harry's conduct.