The Kellys and the O'Kellys Part 50

"Then you'll disgrace yourself for ever. Oh, f.a.n.n.y! though my heart were breaking, though I knew I were dying for very love, I'd sooner have it break, I'd sooner die at once, than disgrace my s.e.x by becoming a suppliant to a man."

"Disgrace, Selina!--and am I not now disgraced? Have I not given him my solemn word? Have I not pledged myself to him as his wife? Have I not sworn to him a hundred times that my heart was all his own? Have I not suffered those caresses which would have been disgraceful had I not looked on myself as almost already his bride? And is it no disgrace, after that, to break my word?--to throw him aside like a glove that wouldn't fit?--to treat him as a servant that wouldn't suit me?--to send him a contemptuous message to be gone?--and so, to forget him, that I might lay myself out for the addresses and admiration of another? Could any conduct be worse than that?--any disgrace deeper?

Oh, Selina! I shudder as I think of it. Could I ever bring my lips to own affection for another, without being overwhelmed with shame and disgrace? And then, that the world should say that I had accepted, and rejoiced in his love when I was poor, and rejected it with scorn when I was rich! No; I would sooner--ten thousand times sooner my uncle should do it for me! but if he will not write to Frank, I will. And though my hand will shake, and my face will be flushed as I do so, I shall never think that I have disgraced myself."

"And if, f.a.n.n.y--if, after that he refuses you?"

f.a.n.n.y was still standing, and she remained so for a moment or two, meditating her reply, and then she answered:--

"Should he do so, then I have the alternative which you say you would prefer; then I will endeavour to look forward to a broken heart, and death, without a complaint and without tears. Then, Selina," and she tried to smile through the tears which were again running down her cheeks, "I'll come to you, and endeavour to borrow your stoic endurance, and patient industry;" and, as she said so, she walked to the door and escaped, before Lady Selina had time to reply.

XXIX. THE COUNTESS OF CASHEL IN TROUBLE

After considerable negotiation between the father and the son, the time was fixed for Lord Kilcullen's arrival at Grey Abbey. The earl tried much to accelerate it, and the viscount was equally anxious to stave off the evil day; but at last it was arranged that, on the 3rd of April, he was to make his appearance, and that he should commence his wooing as soon as possible after that day.

When this was absolutely fixed, Lord Cashel paid a visit to his countess, in her boudoir, to inform her of the circ.u.mstance, and prepare her for the expected guest. He did not, however, say a word of the purport of his son's visit. He had, at one time, thought of telling the old lady all about it, and bespeaking her influence with f.a.n.n.y for the furtherance of his plan; but, on reconsideration, he reflected that his wife was not the person to be trusted with any intrigue. So he merely told her that Lord Kilcullen would be at Grey Abbey in five days; that he would probably remain at home a long time; that, as he was giving up his London vices and extravagances, and going to reside at Grey Abbey, he wished that the house should be made as pleasant for him as possible; that a set of friends, relatives, and acquaintances should be asked to come and stay there; and, in short, that Lord Kilcullen, having been a truly prodigal son, should have a fatted calf prepared for his arrival.

All this flurried and rejoiced, terrified and excited my lady exceedingly. In the first place it was so truly delightful that her son should turn good and proper, and careful and decorous, just at the right time of life; so exactly the thing that ought to happen. Of course young n.o.blemen were extravagant, and wicked, and lascivious, habitual breakers of the commandments, and self-idolators; it was their nature. In Lady Cashel's thoughts on the education of young men, these evils were ranked with the measles and hooping cough; it was well that they should be gone through and be done with early in life. She had a kind of hazy idea that an opera-dancer and a gambling club were indispensable in fitting a young aristocrat for his future career; and I doubt whether she would not have agreed to the expediency of inoculating a son of hers with these ailments in a mild degree--vaccinating him as it were with dissipation, in order that he might not catch the disease late in life in a violent and fatal form.

She had not therefore made herself unhappy about her son for a few years after his first entrance on a life in London, but latterly she had begun to be a little uneasy. Tidings of the great amount of his debts reached even her ears; and, moreover, it was nearly time that he should reform and settle down. During the last twelve months she had remarked fully twelve times, to Griffiths, that she wondered when Kilcullen would marry?--and she had even twice asked her husband, whether he didn't think that such a circ.u.mstance would be advantageous.

She was therefore much rejoiced to hear that her son was coming to live at home. But then, why was it so sudden? It was quite proper that the house should be made a little gay for his reception; that he shouldn't be expected to spend his evenings with no other society than that of his father and mother, his sister and his cousin; but how was she to get the house ready for the people, and the people ready for the house, at so very short a notice?--What trouble, also, it would be to her!--Neither she nor Griffiths would know another moment's rest; besides--and the thought nearly drove her into hysterics,--where was she to get a new cook?

However, she promised her husband to do her best. She received from him a list of people to be invited, and, merely stipulating that she shouldn't be required to ask any one except the parson of the parish under a week, undertook to make the place as bearable as possible to so fastidious and distinguished a person as her own son.

Her first confidante was, of course, Griffiths; and, with her a.s.sistance, the wool and the worsted, and the knitting-needles, the unfinished vallances and interminable yards of fringe, were put up and rolled out of the way; and it was then agreed that a council should be held, to which her ladys.h.i.+p proposed to invite Lady Selina and f.a.n.n.y.

Griffiths, however, advanced an opinion that the latter was at present too lack-a-daisical to be of any use in such a matter, and strengthened her argument by a.s.serting that Miss Wyndham had of late been quite mumchance [44]. Lady Cashel was at first rather inclined to insist on her niece being called to the council, but Griffiths's eloquence was too strong, and her judgment too undoubted; so f.a.n.n.y was left undisturbed, and Lady Selina alone summoned to join the aged female senators of Grey Abbey.

[FOOTNOTE 44: mumchance--silent and idle]

"Selina," said her ladys.h.i.+p, as soon as her daughter was seated on the sofa opposite to her mother's easy chair, while Griffiths, having shut the door, had, according to custom, sat herself down on her own soft-bottomed chair, on the further side of the little table that always stood at the countess's right hand. "Selina, what do you think your father tells me?"

Lady Selina couldn't think, and declined guessing; for, as she remarked, guessing was a loss of time, and she never guessed right.

"Adolphus is coming home on Tuesday."

"Adolphus! why it's not a month since he was here."

"And he's not coming only for a visit; he's coming to stay here; from what your father says, I suppose he'll stay here the greater part of the summer."

"What, stay at Grey Abbey all May and June?" said Lady Selina, evidently discrediting so unlikely a story, and thinking it all but impossible that her brother should immure himself at Grey Abbey during the London season.

"It's true, my lady," said Griffiths, oracularly; as if her word were necessary to place the countess's statement beyond doubt.

"Yes," continued Lady Cashel; "and he has given up all his establishment in London--his horses, and clubs, and the opera, and all that. He'll go into Parliament, I dare say, now, for the county; at any rate he's coming to live at home here for the summer."

"And has he sold all his horses?" asked Lady Selina.

"If he's not done it, he's doing it," said the countess. "I declare I'm delighted with him; it shows such proper feeling. I always knew he would; I was sure that when the time came for doing it, Adolphus would not forget what was due to himself and to his family."

"If what you say is true, mamma, he's going to be married."

"That's just what I was thinking, my lady," said Griffiths. "When her ladys.h.i.+p first told me all about it,--how his lords.h.i.+p was coming down to live regular and decorous among his own people, and that he was turning his back upon his pleasures and iniquities, thinks I to myself there'll be wedding favours coming soon to Grey Abbey."

"If it is so, Selina, your father didn't say anything to me about it,"

said the countess, somewhat additionally fl.u.s.tered by the importance of the last suggestion; "and if he'd even guessed such a thing, I'm sure he'd have mentioned it."

"It mightn't be quite fixed, you know, mamma: but if Adolphus is doing as you say, you may be sure he's either engaged, or thinking of becoming so."

"Well, my dear, I'm sure I wish it may be so; only I own I'd like to know, because it makes a difference, as to the people he'd like to meet, you know. I'm sure nothing would delight me so much as to receive Adolphus's wife. Of course she'd always be welcome to lie in here--indeed it'd be the fittest place. But we should be dreadfully put about, eh, Griffiths?"

"Why, we should, my lady; but, to my mind, this would be the only most proper place for my lord's heir to be born in. If the mother and child couldn't have the best of minding here, where could they?"

"Of course, Griffiths; and we wouldn't mind the trouble, on such an occasion. I think the south room would be the best, because of the dressing-room being such a good size, and neither of the fireplaces smoking, you know."

"Well, I don't doubt but it would, my lady; only the blue room is nearer to your ladys.h.i.+p here, and in course your ladys.h.i.+p would choose to be in and out."

And visions of caudle cups, cradles, and monthly nurses, floated over Lady Cashel's brain, and gave her a kind of dreamy feel that the world was going to begin again with her.

"But, mamma, is Adolphus really to be here on Tuesday?" said Lady Selina, recalling the two old women from their attendance on the unborn, to the necessities of the present generation.

"Indeed he is, my dear, and that's what I sent for you for. Your papa wishes to have a good deal of company here to meet your brother; and indeed it's only reasonable, for of course this place would be very dull for him, if there was n.o.body here but ourselves--and he's always used to see so many people; but the worst is, it's all to be done at once, and you know there'll be so much to be got through before we'll be ready for a house full of company,--things to be got from Dublin, and the people to be asked. And then, Selina," and her ladys.h.i.+p almost wept as the latter came to her great final difficulty--"What are we to do about a cook?--Richards'll never do; Griffiths says she won't even do for ourselves, as it is."

"Indeed she won't, my lady; it was only impudence in her coming to such a place at all.--She'd never be able to send a dinner up for eighteen or twenty."

"What are we to do, Griffiths? What can have become of all the cooks?--I'm sure there used to be cooks enough when I was first married."

"Well, my lady, I think they must be all gone to England, those that are any good; but I don't know what's come to the servants altogether; as your ladys.h.i.+p says, they're quite altered for the worse since we were young."

"But, mamma," said Lady Selina, "you're not going to ask people here just immediately, are you?"

"Directly, my dear; your papa wishes it done at once. We're to have a dinner-party this day week--that'll be Thursday; and we'll get as many of the people as we can to stay afterwards; and we'll get the O'Joscelyns to come on Wednesday, just to make the table look not quite so bare, and I want you to write the notes at once. There'll be a great many things to be got from Dublin too."

"It's very soon after poor Harry Wyndham's death, to be receiving company," said Lady Selina, solemnly. "Really, mamma, I don't think it will be treating f.a.n.n.y well to be asking all these people so soon. The O'Joscelyns, or the Fitzgeralds, are all very well--just our own near neighbours; but don't you think, mamma, it's rather too soon to be asking a house-full of strange people?"

"Well, my love, I was thinking so, and I mentioned it to your father; but he said that poor Harry had been dead a month now--and that's true, you know--and that people don't think so much now about those kind of things as they used to; and that's true too, I believe."

"Indeed you may say that, my lady," interposed Griffiths. "I remember when bombazines used to be worn three full months for an uncle or cousin, and now they're hardly ever worn at all for the like, except in cases where the brother or sister of him or her as is dead may be stopping in the house, and then only for a month: and they were always worn the full six months for a brother or sister, and sometimes the twelve months round. Your aunt, Lady Charlotte, my lady, wore hers the full twelve months, when your uncle, Lord Frederick, was shot by Sir Patrick O'Donnel; and now they very seldom, never, I may say, wear them the six months!--Indeed, I think mourning is going out altogether; and I'm very sorry for it, for it's a very decent, proper sort of thing; at least, such was always my humble opinion, my lady."

"Well; but what I was saying is," continued the countess, "that what would be thought strange a few years ago, isn't thought at all so now; and though I'm sure, Selina, I wouldn't like to do anything that looked unkind to f.a.n.n.y, I really don't see how we can help it, as your father makes such a point of it."

"I can't say I think it's right, mamma, for I don't. But if you and papa do, of course I've nothing further to say."

"Well, my love, I don't know that I do exactly think it's right; and I'm sure it's not my wish to be having people, especially when I don't know where on earth to turn for a cook. But what can we do, my dear?

Adolphus wouldn't stay the third night here, I'm sure, if there was n.o.body to amuse him; and you wouldn't have him turned out of the house, would you?"

"_I_ have him turned out, mamma? G.o.d forbid! I'd sooner he should be here than anywhere, for here he must be out of harm's way; but still I think that if he comes to a house of mourning, he might, for a short time, submit to put up with its decent tranquillity."