"This capture and imprisonment of her mother (for the poor old lady is
not allowed to see whom she pleases) is chiefly to get her from under
Mr Hope's care. I fancy, from her air, and from some things she has
dropped, that she has some grand _coup-de-theatre_ in reserve about that
matter; but this is merely suspicion: I will now speak only of what I
know to exist. She is injuring your brother to an extent that he is
not, but ought to be, aware of."
"What does she say? She shudders at his politics, I know."
"Yes; that might be ignorance merely, and even conscientious ignorance:
so we will let that pass. She also hints, very plainly and extensively,
that your brother and sister are not happy together."
"She is a wicked woman," said Margaret, with a deep sigh. "I half
suspected what you tell me, from poor George's errand that unhappy day."
"Right. Mr Rowland's irony was intended to stop his wife's
insinuations before the children. She says the most unwarrantable
things about Mrs Grey's having made the match--and she intimates that
Hester has several times gone to bed in hysterics, from Mr Hope having
upbraided her with taking him in."
"What _is_ to be done?" cried Margaret, throwing down her work.
"Your brother will decide for himself whether to speak to Mr Rowland,
or to let the slander pass, and live it down. Our duty is to give him
information; and I feel that it is a duty. And now, have you been told
anything about Mr Hope's practice of dissection?"
Margaret related what she had heard on the bank of the river, and Hope's
explanation of it.
"He knows more than he told you, I have no doubt," replied Maria. "The
beginning of it was, your brother's surgery-pupil having sent a great
toe, in a handsome-looking sealed packet, to some lad in the village,
who happened to open it at table. You may imagine the conjectures as to
where it came from, and the revival of stories about robbing
churchyards, and of prejudices about dissection. Mrs Rowland could not
let such an opportunity as this pass by; and her neighbours have been
favoured with dark hints, as to what has been heard under the churchyard
wall, and what she herself has seen from her window in sleepless nights.
Now, Mr Hope must take notice of this. It is too dangerous a subject
to be left quietly to the ignorance and superstitions of such a set of
people as those among whom his calling lies. No ignorance on earth
exceeds that of the country folks whom he attends."
"But they worship him," cried Margaret.
"They have worshipped him; but you know, worship easily gives place to
hatred among the extremely ignorant; and nothing is so likely to quicken
the process as to talk about violating graves. Do not be frightened; I
tell you this to prevent mischief, not to prophesy it. Mr Hope will
take what measures he thinks fit: and I shall tell Mr Rowland, tomorrow
morning, that I am the source of your information. I was just going to
warn him to-day that I meant to speak to you in this way; but I left it
till to-morrow, that I might not be prevented."
"Dear Maria, this will cost you your bread."
"I believe not; but this consideration belongs to that future of time on
which, as I was saying, we cannot lay our little fingers. The present
is clear enough--that Mr Hope ought to know his own case."
"He shall know it. But, Maria, do you mean that Mrs Rowland talks of
all these affairs before her children?"
"When Mr Rowland is not present to check it. And this brings me to
something which I think ought to be said, though I have no proof to
bring. Having found of late what things Mrs Rowland can say for a
purpose--how variously and how monstrously untrue--and seeing that all
her enterprises are at present directed against the people who live in a
pleasant little corner-house--"
"But why? You have not yet fully accounted for this enmity."
"I have not, but I will now. I think she joins your name with her
brother's, and that she accordingly hates you now as she once hated
Hester. But mind, I am not sure of this."
"But how--? Why--?"
"You will divine that I have changed my opinion about Mr Enderby's
being engaged to Miss Bruce, since you asked me for my judgment upon it.
I may very possibly be mistaken: but as Mr Enderby lies under censure
for forming and carrying on such an arrangement in strange concealment
from his most intimate friends, I think it due to him at least to put
the supposition that he may not be guilty."
Margaret could not speak, though a thousand questions struggled in her
heart.
"I am aware," continued Maria, "with what confidence she has everywhere
stated the fact of this engagement, and that Mrs Enderby fully believes
it. But I have been struck throughout with a failure of particularity
in Mrs Rowland's knowledge. She cannot tell when her brother last saw
Miss Bruce, nor whether he has any intention of going to Rome. She does
not know, evidently, whether he was engaged when he was last here; and I
cannot get rid of the impression, that his being engaged now is a matter
of inference from a small set of facts, which will bear more than one
interpretation."
"Surely she would not dare--." Margaret paused.
"It is a bold stroke (supposing me right), but she would strike boldly
to make a quarrel between her brother and his friends in the
corner-house: and if the device should fail at last, she has the
intermediate satisfaction of making them uncomfortable."
"Horrid creature!" said Margaret, feeling, however, that she would
forgive all the horridness for the sake of finding that Mrs Rowland had
done this horrid thing.
"We must not forget," said Maria, "that there is another side to the
question. Young men have been known to engage themselves mysteriously,
and without sufficient respect to the confidence of intimate friends."
"This must be ascertained, Maria;" and again Margaret stopped short with
a blush of shame.
"By time, Margaret; in no other way. I cannot, of course, speak to Mr
Rowland, or any one, on so private an affair of the family; nor, under
the circumstances, can Mr Hope stir in it. We must wait; but it cannot
be for long. Some illumination must reach Deerbrook soon--either from
Mr Enderby's going to Rome, or coming here to see his mother."
"Mrs Rowland said he would come here, she hoped, for his wedding
journey."
"She did say so, I know. And she has told plenty of people that her
brother is delighted that Mrs Enderby is settled with her; whereas some
beautiful plants arrived this morning for Mrs Enderby's conservatory,
by his orders (the Rowlands have no conservatory you know). The
children were desired not to mention the arrival of these plants to
grandmamma; and Mrs Rowland wrote by return of post--I imagine to
inform him for the first time of his mother's removal."
Margaret thought these things were too bad to be true.
"I should have said so, too, some time ago: and as I cannot too
earnestly repeat, I may be wrong now. But I have done my duty in giving
you reason for suspending your judgment of Mr Enderby. This being
done, we will talk of something else.--Now, do not you think there may
be some difficulty in preserving my pupils from a habit of untruth?"
"Yes, indeed."
But the talking of something else did not operate so well as it sounded.
The pauses were long after what had passed. At length, when Margaret
detected herself in the midst of the speculation, "if he is not engaged
to Miss Bruce, it does not follow--," she roused herself, and
exclaimed--
"How very good it is of you, Maria, to have laid all this open to me!"
Maria hung her head over her work, and thought within herself that her
friend could not judge of the deed. She replied--
"Thank you! I thought I should get some sympathy from you in the end,
to repay me for the irksomeness of exposing such a piece of social vice
as this poor lady's conduct."
"Yes, indeed, I ought to have acknowledged it before, as I feel it; but
you know there is so much to think over! it is so wonderful--so almost
inconceivable!"
"It is so."
"Is it quite necessary, Maria--yes, I see it is necessary that you
should speak to Mr Rowland to-morrow? You are bound in honesty to do
so; but it will be very painful. Can we not help you? Can we not in
some way spare you?"
"No, you cannot, thank you. For Mr Rowland's sake, no one must be by;
and none of you can testify to the facts. No; leave me alone. By this
time to-morrow night it will be done. What knock is that? No one ever
knocks on my account. Surely it cannot be your servant already. It is
only now half-past eight."
"I promised Hester I would go home early."
"She cannot want you half so much as I do. Stay another hour."
Margaret could not. Hester made a point of her returning at this time.
When the cloaking and final chat were done, and Margaret was at the
door, Maria called her. Margaret came skipping back to hear her
friend's whisper.
"How is your wretchedness, Margaret?"
"How is yours?" was Margaret's reply.
"Much better. The disburdening of it is a great comfort."
"And the pain--the aching?"
"Oh, never mind that!"
Margaret shook her head; she could not but mind it--but wish that she
could take it upon herself sometimes. She had often thought lately,
that she should rather enjoy a few weeks of Maria's pain, as an
alternative to the woe under which she had been suffering; but this, if
she could have tried the experiment, she would probably have found to be
a mistake. When she saw her friend cover her eyes with her hand, as if
for a listless hour of solitude, she felt that she had been wrong in
yielding to her sister's jealousy of her being so much with Maria; and
she resolved that, next time, Maria should appoint the hour for her
return home.
When Maria was thus covering her eyes with her hand, she was
thinking--"Now, half this task is over. The other half to-morrow--and
then the consequences!"
When Margaret entered the drawing-room at home, where her brother was
reading aloud to Hester, he exclaimed--
"We beat all Deerbrook for early visiting, I think. Here are you home;
and I dare say Mr Tucker has still another pipe to smoke, and the wine
is not mulled yet at the Jameses."
"It is quite time Margaret was giving us a little of her company, I am
sure," said Hester. "You forget how early she went. If it was not for
the school, I think she and Maria would spend all their time together.
I have every wish not to interfere: but I cannot think that this
friendship has made Maria less selfish."
"It would, I dare say, my dear, but that there was no selfishness to
begin upon. I am afraid she is very unwell, Margaret?"
"In much pain, I fear."
"I will go and see if I can do her any good. You can glance over what
we have read, and I shall be back in a quarter of an hour, to go on with
it."
"I wonder you left Maria, if she is so poorly."
"I determined that I would not, another time; but this time I had
promised."
"Pray, do not make out that I am any restraint upon your intercourse
with Maria. And yet--it is not quite fair to say that, either."
"I do not think it is quite fair."
"But you should warn me--you should tell me, if I ask anything
unreasonable. When are you going again? An old patient of my husband's
has sent us a quarter of a chest of very fine oranges. We will carry
Maria a basketful of oranges to-morrow."