Tales and Novels Volume VII Part 52

His father let him exhaust himself in declamation, certain that he would be brought to think of it at last, by the necessity to which he was reduced. The result was what the commissioner saw it must be. Creditors pressed--a jail in immediate view--no resource but Miss Tammy Clay. He went down to the country to the bishop's, to get out of the way of his creditors, and--to consider about it. He found no difficulty likely to arise on the part of the lady. The bishop, old, and almost doting, governed by his sister Tammy, who was an admirable housekeeper, and kept his table exquisitely, was brought, though very reluctantly, to consent to their marriage.

Not so acquiescent, however, were Miss Tammy's two nephews, French and English Clay. They had looked upon her wealth as their indefeasible right and property. The possibility of her marrying had for years been, as they thought, out of the question; and of all the young men of their acquaintance, Buckhurst Falconer was the very last whom they would have suspected to have any design upon aunt Tammy--she had long and often been the subject of his ridicule. French Clay, though he had just made an imprudent match with a singer, was the more loud and violent against the aunt; and English Clay, though he was not in want of her money, was roused by the idea of being duped by the Falconers. This was just at the time he had commissioned Lady Trant to propose for Miss Georgiana. Aunt Tammy had promised to give him six thousand pounds whenever he should marry: he did not value her money a single sixpence, but he would not be tricked out of his rights by any man or woman breathing. Aunt Tammy, resenting certain words that had escaped him derogatory to her youth and beauty, and being naturally unwilling to give--any thing but herself--refused to part with the six thousand pounds. In these hard times, and when she was going to marry an expensive husband, she laughing said, that all she had would be little enough for her own establishment. Buckhurst would willingly have given up the sum in question, but English Clay would not receive it as a consequence of his intercession. His pride offended Buckhurst: they came to high words, and high silence. English Clay went to his relation, Lady Trant, and first reproaching her with having been too precipitate in executing his first commission, gave her a second, in which he begged she would make no delay: he requested her ladys.h.i.+p would inform Mrs. Falconer that a double alliance with her family was more than he had looked for--and in one word, that either her son Buckhurst's marriage with his aunt Tammy, or his own marriage with Miss Georgiana, must be given up. He would not have his aunt at her age make herself ridiculous, and he would not connect himself with a family who could uphold a young man in duping an old woman: Lady Trant might shape his message as she pleased, but this was to be its substance.

In consequence of Lady Trant's intimation, which of course was made with all possible delicacy, Georgiana and Mrs. Falconer wrote to Buckhurst in the strongest terms, urging him to give up his intended marriage. There were, as they forcibly represented, so many other old women with large fortunes who could in the course of a short time be found, who would be quite as good matches for him, that it would argue a total insensibility to the interests and entreaties of his beloved mother and sister, if he persisted in his present preposterous design. Buckhurst answered,

"MY DEAR MOTHER AND GEORGY,

"I was married yesterday, and am as sorry for it to-day as you can be.

"Yours truly,

"B.F.

"P.S.--There are other young men, with as good fortunes as English Clay, in the world."

The letter and the postscript disappointed and enraged Mrs. Falconer and Georgiana beyond description.

English Clay left his D.I.O. at Mrs. Falconer's door, and _banged_ down to Clay-hall.

Georgiana, violent in the expression of her disappointment, would have exposed herself to Lady Trant, and to half her acquaintance; but Mrs.

Falconer, in the midst of her mortification, retained command of temper sufficient to take thought for the future. She warned Lady Trant to be silent, and took precautions to prevent the affair from being known; providently determining, that, as soon as her daughter should recover from the disappointment of losing Clay-hall, she would marry her to Petcalf, and settle her at once at the lodge in Asia Minor.

"Till Georgiana is married," said she to herself, "the commissioner will never let me have peace: if English Clay's breaking off the match gets wind, we are undone; for who will think of a rejected girl, beautiful or fas.h.i.+onable though she be? So the best thing that can be done is to marry her immediately to Petcalf. I will have it so--and the wedding-clothes will not have been bought in vain."

The bringing down the young lady's imagination, however, from Clay-hall to a lodge was a task of much difficulty; and Mrs. Falconer often in the bitterness of her heart exclaimed, that she had the most ungrateful children in the world. It seems that it is a tacit compact between mothers and daughters of a certain cla.s.s, that if the young ladies are dressed, amused, advertised, and exhibited at every fas.h.i.+onable public place and private party, their hearts, or hands at least, are to be absolutely at the disposal of their parents.

It was just when Mrs. Falconer was exasperated by Georgiana's ingrat.i.tude, that her son Buckhurst was obliged to come to London after his marriage, to settle with his creditors. His bride insisted upon accompanying him, and chose this unpropitious time for being introduced to his family. And such a bride! Mrs. Buckhurst Falconer! Such an introduction! Such a reception! His mother cold and civil, merely from policy to prevent their family-quarrels from becoming public; his sisters--

But enough. Here let us turn from the painful scene, and leave this house divided against itself.

CHAPTER x.x.xI.

LETTER FROM ALFRED TO HIS FATHER.

"MY DEAR FATHER,

"I send you two pamphlets on the causes of the late changes in the ministry, one by a friend, the other by an enemy, of Lord Oldborough.

Temple, I should have thought the author of the first, but that I know he has not time to write, and that there does not appear any of that _behind the scene knowledge_ which his situation affords. All the pamphleteers and newspaper politicians write as if they knew the whole--some confident that the ministry split on one question--some on another; long declamations and abuse follow as usual on each side, but WISE people, and of course myself among that number, suspect 'that all that we know is, that we know nothing.' That there was some private intrigue in the cabinet, which has not yet transpired, I opine from Temple's reserve whenever I have mentioned the subject. This morning, when I asked him to frank these pamphlets, he laughed, and said that I was sending coals to Newcastle: what this meant he refused to explain, or rather he attempted to explain it away, by observing, that people of good understanding often could judge better at a distance of what was pa.s.sing in the political world, than those who were close to the scene of action, and subject to hear the contradictory reports of the day; therefore, he conceived that I might be sending materials for thinking, to one who could judge better than I can. I tormented Temple for a quarter of an hour with a cross-examination so able, that it was really a pity to waste it out of the courts; but I could get nothing more from him. Is it possible, my dear father, that you are at the bottom of all this?

"Lord Oldborough certainly told me the other day, and in a very significant manner, and, as I now recollect, fixing his inquiring eye upon me as he said the words, that he not only felt esteem and regard for Mr. Percy, but _grat.i.tude_--grat.i.tude for tried friends.h.i.+p. I took it at the time as a general expression of kindness; now I recollect the look, and the pause after the word grat.i.tude, I put this with Temple's coals to Newcastle. But, if it be a secret, I must not inquire, and if it be not, you will tell it to me. So I shall go on to my own affairs.

"The other day I was surprised by a visit at my chambers from an East-India director. Lord Oldborough, I find, recommended it to him to employ me in a very important cause, long pending, for a vast sum of money: the whole, with all its acc.u.mulated and acc.u.mulating interest, depending on a point of law. Heaven send me special sense, or special nonsense, sufficient to avoid a nonsuit, of which there have been already no less than three in this cause.

"What do you think of Lord Oldborough's kindness? This is only one of many instances in which I have traced his desire to serve me. It is not common with politicians, thus to recollect those who have no means of serving them, and who have never reminded them even of their existence by paying court in any way actively or pa.s.sively.

"The Falconers are all discontented with his lords.h.i.+p at this moment, because he has disposed of a sinecure place on which the commissioner had long had his eye. His lords.h.i.+p has given it to an old disabled sea-captain, whom he knew only by reputation.

"The accounts you have heard of Buckhurst's marriage are, alas! too true; and what you have been told of the lady's age and ugliness is not exaggerated. As to her temper and her avarice, I am afraid that what you have heard of them is also true; for a brother lawyer of mine, who was employed to draw the settlements, says she has taken care to keep every penny she could in her own power; and that, in the whole course of his practice, he never saw so hard a battle between love and parsimony. Poor Buckhurst! who could have foreseen that this would be his fate! I met him in the street yesterday with his bride, and he looked as if he would rather be hanged than receive my congratulations: I pa.s.sed without seeming to have seen them.

"I have just received Mr. Barclay's letter, and am going to work upon his settlements. So Caroline's wishes for Lady Mary Pembroke will be accomplished. I asked Temple whether Lord Oldborough had heard any thing of Count Altenberg since his return to his own country. Yes--one _private_ letter to Lord Oldborough, from which nothing had transpired but one line of general thanks for civilities received in England.

Temple, who seems to have formed the same notion and the same wishes that we had, told me yesterday, without my questioning him, that Lord Oldborough had written with his own hand an answer to the Count, which none of the secretaries have seen. Temple, in sealing up the packet, ventured to ask whether there was any chance of seeing Count Altenberg again in England. 'None that he knew,' Lord Oldborough answered. Temple, who of all men is least like Commissioner Falconer in circ.u.mlocutory address, at once blurted out, 'Is Count Altenberg going to be married?'

Lord Oldborough turned and looked upon him with surprise--whether surprise at his curiosity, or at the improbability of the Count's making his lords.h.i.+p the confidant of his love-affairs, Temple declares he was in too much confusion to be able to decide. Lord Oldborough made no reply, but took up an answer to a memorial, which he had ordered Temple to draw, pointed out some unlucky mistakes in it, and finished by saying to him, 'Mr. Temple, your thoughts are not in your business. _Sir, I do believe you are in love_;' which sentence Temple declares his lords.h.i.+p p.r.o.nounced with a look and accent that would have suited, _Sir, I do believe you have the plague_.' And if so, do me the justice to let me employ Mr. Shaw to do your business, till you are married.'

"Temple says that Lord Oldborough is proud of showing himself a foe to love, which he considers as the bane of ambition, and as one of the weaknesses of human nature, to which a great man ought to be superior.

"Whether the secretary be right or wrong in this opinion of his lords.h.i.+p, I have not seen enough to be able to determine; and I suspect that Temple is not at present a perfectly calm observer. Ever since his visit to the country he seems not to be entirely master of himself: his heart is still hovering round about some absent object--what object, I do not know; for though he does not deny my charge, he will not tell me the name of his fair one. I suspect Lady Frances Arlington of having stolen his heart. I am very sorry for it--for I am clear she is only coquetting with him. Temple says that he is too poor to marry. He is so amiable, that I am sure he will make any woman he marries happy, if it be not her own fault, and if they have but enough to live upon. It grieves me to hear his unavailing daily regrets for having quitted the bar. Had he continued in his original profession, he might, and in all probability would have been, at this moment (as his compet.i.tor, a man much his inferior in talent, actually is), in the receipt of four thousand good pounds per annum, independent of all men; and might have married any woman in any rank. Besides, even with such a patron as Lord Oldborough, Temple feels dependence grievous to his spirit. He is of a very good family, and was not early used to a subservient situation.

His health too will be hurt by his close confinement to the business of office--and he has no time for indulging his literary taste--no play for his genius: that was his original grievance at the bar, but his present occupations are less congenial to his taste than law ever was. His brother-secretary, Mr. Shaw, is a mere matter-of-fact man, who is particularly unsuited to him--an objector to every thing new, a curtailer and contemner of all eloquence: poor Temple is uneasy and discontented; he would give up his situation to-morrow but that he cannot quit Lord Oldborough. He says that he has a hundred times resolved to resign--that he has had his letter written, and the words on his lips; but he never could, when it came to the point, present the letter, or p.r.o.nounce the farewell to Lord Oldborough. Wonderful the ascendancy this man has over the mind!--Extraordinary his power of attaching, with manners so little conciliatory! Adieu, my dear father; I have indulged myself too long in writing to you. I have to read over the late Mr. Panton's will, and to give our friend Mr. Gresham an opinion upon it--notwithstanding Rosamond's cruelty to him, he is as much our friend, and her friend, as ever. Panton's will is on ten skins of parchment: and then I have a plea in rejoinder to draw for Lady Jane Granville; and, worse than all, to read and answer four of her ladys.h.i.+p's notes now on my table. By-the-bye, I would rather carry on a suit for any four men, than for one such woman of business as poor Lady Jane. She is never at rest one moment; never can believe that either lawyer or solicitor knows what he is about--always thinks her letters and notes can do more than bills in chancery, or than the lord chancellor himself. She frets incessantly. I must request Erasmus to medicine her to repose; she has absolutely a _law fever_. Erasmus is at Richmond--sent for by some _grandee_: he is in high practice. He told me he began last week to write to Rosamond, from the bedside of some sleeping patient, a full and true answer to all her questions about Miss Panton; but the sleeper awakened, and the doctor had never time to finish his story.

"Adieu a second time. Love to all.

"Dear father, yours affectionately,

"ALFRED PERCY.

"Just as I began the second skin of Panton's will, a note was brought to me from--whom do you think? Lord Oldborough, requesting to see me at four o'clock. What can his lords.h.i.+p want with me?--I must send this frank before I can satisfy my own curiosity on this point--or yours, Rosamond."

After finis.h.i.+ng the perusal of Mr. Panton's long-winded will, writing an opinion upon it for Mr. Gresham, and penning a quieting note for poor Lady Jane Granville, Alfred, eager to be punctual to the appointed hour, went to the minister. He need not have looked at his watch so often, or have walked so fast, for when he arrived it wanted five minutes of the time appointed, and his lords.h.i.+p had not returned from a visit to the Duke of Greenwich. He was told, however, that orders had been given for his admittance; and he was shown into an apartment where he had leisure, during a full quarter of an hour, to admire his own punctuality. At last he heard a noise of loud huzzas in the street, and looking out of the window, he saw a crowd at the farthest end of the street; and as it moved nearer, perceived that the populace had taken the horses from Lord Oldborough's carriage, and were drawing him to his own door with loud acclamations. His lords.h.i.+p bowed to the mult.i.tude as he got out of his carriage rather proudly and coldly, yet still the crowd threw up their hats and huzzaed. He apologized to Alfred, as he entered the room, for having been later than his appointment. Commissioner Falconer and Mr.

Temple were with him, and the commissioner immediately began to tell how they had been delayed by the zeal of the people. Lord Oldborough took a paper from his pocket, and walked to the window to read it, without seeming to hear one word that the commissioner was saying, and without paying any attention to the acclamations of the mult.i.tude below, which were again repeated on their seeing him at the window. When his lords.h.i.+p had finished looking over the paper, he called upon Alfred to witness it, and then presenting it to Mr. Falconer, he said, in his haughtiest manner, "An equivalent, sir, for that sinecure place which you asked for, and which it was out of my power to obtain for you. _That_ was given as the just reward of merit, and of public services. My private _debts_--" [Alfred Percy observed that his lords.h.i.+p did not use the word _obligation_]. "My private debts to your family, Mr. Falconer, could not be paid from the public fund with which I am entrusted, but you will not, I hope, find me the less desirous that they should be properly acknowledged. The annuity," continued he, putting his finger on the amount, which the commissioner longed to see, but at which he had not dared yet to look, "the annuity is to the full amount of that place which, I think you a.s.sured me, would satisfy your and Mrs. Falconer's expectations."

"Oh! my lord, more than satisfy: but from your lords.h.i.+p's private fortune--from your lords.h.i.+p's own emoluments of office, I cannot possibly think--Mrs. Falconer would, I am sure, be excessively distressed--"

"Do me the favour, sir, to let no more be said upon this subject,"

interrupted Lord Oldborough. "As you return home, will you speak to those poor people whom I still hear in the street, and advise them now to return peaceably to their homes. My man Rodney, I am afraid, has thought it for my honour to be too liberal to these good people--but you will speak to them, commissioner."

The commissioner, who never completely felt Lord Oldborough's character, imagined that at this moment his lords.h.i.+p secretly enjoyed the clamour of popular applause, and that this cold indifference was affected; Mr.

Falconer therefore protested, with a smile, that he would do his best to calm the enthusiasm of the people, but that it was a hard, if not impossible task, to stem the tide of Lord Oldborough's popularity.

"Enjoy it, my lord!" concluded Mr. Falconer; "Enjoy it!--No minister in my memory ever was so popular!"

As soon as the commissioner, after saying these words, had left the room, Lord Oldborough, in a tone of sovereign contempt, repeated the word, "Popularity! There goes a man, now, who thinks me fit to be a fool to fame!"

"Popularity," said Mr. Temple, "is a bad master, but a good servant. A great man will," as Burke says, "disdain to veer like the weatherc.o.c.k on the temple of fas.h.i.+on with every breath of wind. But may he not, my lord--say, for you know--may he not wisely take advantage of the gale, and direct this great _power_, so as to work the state-machinery to good purpose?"

"A dangerous power," replied Lord Oldborough, turning from his secretary to Alfred, as if he were impatient to speak of business. Temple, who had more of the habits of a man of letters than of a man of business or of a courtier, was apt unseasonably to pursue a discussion, and to pique himself upon showing sincerity by declaring a difference of opinion from his patron. Utterly repugnant as this was to the minister's habits and temper, yet in admiration of the boldness of the man, and in consideration for his true attachment, Lord Oldborough bore it with magnanimous patience--when he had time--and when he had not, would cut it short at once.

"In a mixed government, popularity, philosophically speaking, if I may differ from your lords.h.i.+p--" Temple began.

"Permit me, sir, first," interrupted Lord Oldborough, "to settle my business with Mr. Alfred Percy, who, being a professional man, and in high practice, probably sets a just value upon his time."

Mr. Temple, who was a man of quick feelings, felt a word or glance of reproof from Lord Oldborough with keen sensibility. Alfred could not fix his own attention upon what his lords.h.i.+p was now beginning to say. Lord Oldborough saw reflected in Alfred's countenance the disturbance in his friend's: and immediately returning, and putting a key into Mr. Temple's hand--"You will do me a service, sir," said he, "by looking over my father's papers marked _private_ in red letters. They may be necessary in this business--they are papers which I could trust only to one who has my interests at heart."

Mr. Temple's face brightened instantly, and bowing much lower than usual, he received the key with great respect, and hurried away to search for the papers.

"For a similar reason, Mr. Alfred Percy," said Lord Oldborough, "they shall, if you please, be put into your hands." His lords.h.i.+p moved a chair towards Alfred, and seated himself. "My law-agent has not satisfied me of late. A suit, into which I have been plunged by those who had the direction of my business, has not been carried on with ability or vigour. I had not leisure to look into any affairs that merely concerned myself. Circ.u.mstances have just wakened me to the subject, and to the perception that my private fortune has suffered, and will suffer yet more materially, unless I am fortunate enough to find united in the same person a lawyer and a friend. I have looked round and see many older barristers than Mr. Alfred Percy, but none so likely to be interested in my affairs as the son of my earliest friend, and few more capable of conducting them with diligence and ability. May I hope, sir, for hereditary kindness from you, as well as for professional services?"