A SOCIAL DILEMMA.
While Edward Armstrong was becoming better acquainted with the little
nephew of Maria St. Clair, Dr. Anson was attempting the cure of a
disease far more difficult to subdue than any in the whole catalogue of
the various "ills which flesh is heir to"--a mental disease called
pride.
He found his patient in a fair way for complete recovery. Her restless
anxiety to thank the strange gentleman who had saved her, had made her
mother give way to her wish to be dressed, and she now sat in an
easy-chair, looking pale certainly, but apparently suffering only from
exhaustion.
"Up and dressed? upon my word!" said Dr. Anson. "I was not prepared for
such a speedy recovery as this."
"I feel almost as well as ever, doctor," she said, "only a little weak
and tired; but I cannot rest till mamma and all of us have thanked the
gentleman who saved me and little Charlie. Mrs. Lake says he is quite
well this morning, and talks of going back to London to-morrow, so if we
are to see him and thank him personally, it must be to-day."
"All right, my dear," said the doctor; "there will be no difficulty in
asking my friend Mr. Edward Armstrong to visit you."
"Your friend, Dr. Anson?" exclaimed Mrs. St. Clair, in surprise; "have
you known him long?"
"Almost from his boyhood, and a more intelligent, well-informed man I
have seldom met with. I was not, however, aware till now that he
possessed courage and daring in addition to his other good qualities."
"But who is he?" was the next question.
"The son, indeed the only child, of Farmer Armstrong, who owns Meadow
Farm, about two miles from Basingstoke. The farm has belonged to
Armstrong's ancestors for nearly two hundred years. The old gentleman
has recently lost his wife, and the son came from London a few weeks ago
to be present at his mother's funeral."
"Young Mr. Armstrong resides in London, then, I suppose?" remarked Mrs.
Herbert.
"Yes; his tastes for intellectual pursuits and his education made him
dislike farming, and at last his father, with great reluctance, allowed
him to commence business in London as a corn-dealer."
Mrs. St. Clair had listened to this plain straightforward description of
her daughter's and grandson's deliverer and his antecedents with very
conflicting sensations. She had hoped to be able personally to show her
deep sense of gratitude to this gentleman, who had risked his own life
for her child; but now, how could she do so? She had been brought up to
consider persons in trade far inferior to herself, and the doctor's
account seemed to place this stranger at such an immeasurable distance,
and yet how could she relieve herself from such a debt of gratitude?
During the pause that ensued, Dr. Anson examined and questioned his
patient, and having received satisfactory answers, was about to take his
leave, when Mrs. St. Clair's voice arrested his movements.
"Dr. Anson, we can never really repay this person the debt of gratitude
we owe him, but as he is in trade, do you think he would accept a sum of
money; something handsome, I mean! I am sure my son-in-law, Sir James
Elston, would readily advance it in such a case."
"Mamma!"
"Madam!"
The words burst forth almost simultaneously from Mrs. Herbert and the
doctor. The former gave up her right to speak to the doctor, who
exclaimed--
"My friend Mr. Edward Armstrong is not only a man of large property, but
of refined and intellectual tastes, and can boast of an education far
beyond the generality of farmers' sons. I could not----"
"Oh, pray pardon me!" interrupted Mrs. St. Clair, greatly surprised at
the doctor's vehemence, "but when you spoke of your friend as a man of
business, I supposed him to be what a tradesman generally is."
"Mrs. St. Clair," said the doctor, "England is becoming proud of her
commerce, and the young people of the present age may live to see the
time when, like the ancients of old, 'her princes will be merchants,' as
well as men of intellect, refinement, and education. At all events, my
dear madam, give your daughters an opportunity to thank this gentleman
for risking his life on their behalf; personally, I am quite sure, he
will expect this, and consider it cancels all obligations. If you see
him you can judge for yourselves. Good morning, ladies. Don't excite
yourself, my dear," he continued, more gently, as he shook hands with
his patient; "your constitution has received a shock, and you must be
careful."
"I will, doctor, I promise you," she said, "but I may go into the
drawing-room with mamma and Helen to receive the visitor?"
"Of course--of course," he replied, "but remember, you are not to talk
too much."
For some minutes after Dr. Anson left the room silence reigned supreme:
Mrs. St. Clair could not at once recover from the surprise at being thus
set down by her own medical man; indeed, she looked so disconcerted that
Helen could not resist the merry laugh that broke the silence.
"Mamma, don't look so uncomfortable," she said; "of course you could not
be expected to know what would be the best means of showing our
gratitude to this stranger, for indeed we ought to be grateful----"
"I know it, my dear," said Mrs. St. Clair, whose pride had received a
severe blow; "and now what are we to do?"
"We have simply to adjourn to the drawing-room, ring the bell, and send
down our cards, with our compliments, and a request that Mr. Armstrong
will favour us with a visit."
This advice was at once acted upon, and in a few minutes Maria found
herself comfortably seated in an arm-chair in Mrs. Lake's pretty
drawing-room, while her mother and sister awaited the appearance of
their visitor in formal state on the sofa. Even to Maria, Edward
Armstrong was an entire stranger, for although she had modestly shrunk
from his earnest gaze at church on the previous Sunday, and had seen his
face twice on the day of the accident, it was still unknown to her.
They had not waited long when footsteps on the stairs announced his
approach; not alone, however, for as Mrs. Lake opened the door Edward
Armstrong entered, leading by the hand little Charlie Herbert.
"Your little son has paid me a visit this morning, Mrs. Herbert," he
said, as he bowed to the ladies who rose to welcome him, "and I have
brought him upstairs with me to place him safely in your care."
Mrs. Herbert gave him a grateful look as she placed a chair for their
guest. Then seating herself, she said--
"I hope Charlie has not been troublesome?"
"Not in the least," he replied; "indeed, his childish prattle has done
me good."
Mrs. St. Clair's surprise at the appearance of her visitor, who wore his
mourning suit, increased for a time the confusion of ideas produced by
the doctor's farewell speech. She was, however, a true English
gentlewoman, and before Edward could take the chair placed for him she
advanced, and holding out her hand, said with a warmth of manner not to
be mistaken for mere politeness--
"Mr. Armstrong, I have taken the liberty of asking you to visit us,
because I wish to join with my daughters in expressing my gratitude for
your kind and prompt energy yesterday, which saved the lives of my
daughter and little grandson. It is not possible to say all we feel on
the subject. I only hope you will believe in our sincere and grateful
appreciation."
"Madam," replied Edward, to whom all this was really painful, "I am only
too happy to remember that I was on the spot, and able to be of service
to you."
"A service we can never repay," said Mrs. Herbert; "but for your
exertions I should have lost my darling boy."
"And I," exclaimed a gentle voice, "should have lost my life, Mr.
Armstrong, but for you; my best thanks are but a poor return to offer
you."
"Ladies," said Edward Armstrong, "you do me too much honour. I am only
too thankful to have been made the instrument, in God's hands, to save
you from great sorrow, and the consciousness of this is all the reward I
ask. But allow me, Miss St. Clair," he said, hurriedly changing the
subject, "I hope you do not feel any serious effects from the great
danger to which you were exposed yesterday?"
"Oh, no," she replied; "except a slight feeling of exhaustion, I am
otherwise as well as usual."
The blush that tinted the pale cheek of Maria St. Clair, who, while she
spoke, was conscious of the earnest eyes so closely watching her, added
additional beauty to the fair face which Edward Armstrong so greatly
admired. With ready tact he turned to Mrs. St. Clair, and introduced
another subject of conversation.
So pleasantly did an hour pass as they talked, that when the visitor
rose to go, the elder ladies each expressed a wish that he should visit
them at their own residences. But he unhesitatingly stated his anxiety
to return to business, promising, however, to call upon Mrs. St. Clair
at Richmond; and naming his own address in Dover Street, Piccadilly.
Edward Armstrong's peculiar notions and obstinate prejudices, which we
shall hear more of by-and-by, were kept under violent restraint while in
the company of these ladies. Hitherto he had encouraged himself in a
kind of contempt for all social distinctions, but now that he had made
acquaintance with a family whose position, socially speaking, was above
his own, he crushed down the feeling, and when writing his address for
Mrs. St. Clair, he omitted the words "corn-dealer."
Perhaps his radical notions would not have been restrained by any motive
less powerful than a growing attachment for the daughter of a lady who
could rank with England's aristocracy. And with the lady herself there
is little doubt that Edward Armstrong's apparent refinement in manner
and dress would have failed to make such an impression had not his
handsome face, manly carriage, and reputation for wealth been thrown
into the scale of opinion.