That Stick Part 10

CHAPTER XII THE BURTHEN OF HONOURS

A fearful affair to the new possessors of Northmoor was the matter of morning calls. The first that befell them, as in duty bound, was that from the Vicar. They were peaceably writing their letters in the library, and hoping soon to go out to explore the Park, when Mr. Woodman was announced, and was found a lonely black speck in the big dreary drawing-room, a very state room, indeed, which n.o.body had ever willingly inhabited. The Vicar was accustomed to be overridden; he was an elderly widower, left solitary in his old age, and of depressed spirits and manner. However, Frank had been used to intercourse with clergy, though his relations with them seemed reversed, and instead of being patronised, he had to take the initiative; or rather, they touched each other's cold, shy, limp hands, and sat upright in their chairs, and observed upon the appropriate topic of early frosts, which really seemed to be affecting themselves.

There was a little thaw when Lord Northmoor asked about the population, larger, alas, than the congregation might have seemed to show, and Mary asked if there were much poverty, and was answered that there was much suffering in the winter, there was not much done for the poor except by Lady Adela.

'You must tell us how we can a.s.sist in any way.'

The poor man began to brighten. 'It will be a great comfort to have some interest in the welfare of the parish taken here, my Lord. The influence hitherto has not been fortunate. Miss Morton, indeed--latterly--but, poor thing, if I may be allowed to say so, she is flighty--and uncertain--no wonder--'

At that moment Lady Adela was ushered in, and the Vicar looked as if caught in talking treason, while a fresh nip of frost descended on the party.

Not that the lady was by any means on stiff terms with the Vicar, whom, indeed, she daily consulted on parochial subjects, and she had the gracious, hereditary courtesy of high breeding; but she always averred that this same drawing-room chilled her, and she was fully persuaded that any advance towards familiarity would lead to something obnoxious on the part of the newcomers, so that the proper relations between herself and them could only be preserved by a judicious entrenchment of courtesy.

Still, it was more the manner of the Vicar than of herself that gave the impression of her being a formidable autocrat. After the frost had been again languidly discussed, Mr. Woodman faltered out, 'His Lords.h.i.+p was asking--was so good as to ask--how to a.s.sist in the parish.'

Lady Adela knew how scarce money must be, so she hesitated to mention subscriptions, and only said, 'Thank you--very kind.'

'Is there any one I could read to?' ventured Mary.

'Have you been used to the kind of thing?' asked Lady Adela, not unkindly, but in a doubting tone.

'No, I never could before; but I do wish to try to do something.'

The earnest humility of the tone was touching, the Vicar and the autocrat looked at one another, and the former suggested, 'Old Swan!'

'Yes,' said Lady Adela, 'old Swan lives out at Linghill, which is not above half a mile from this house, but too far off for me to visit constantly. I shall be very much obliged if you can undertake the cottages there.'

'Thank you,' said Mary, as heartily as if she were receiving a commission from the Bishop of the diocese.

'Did not Miss Morton mention something about a boys' cla.s.s?' said Frank.

'I have been accustomed to a Sunday school.'

Mr. Woodman betrayed as much surprise as if he had said he was accustomed to a coal mine; and Lady Adela observed graciously, 'Most of them have gone into service this Michaelmas; but no doubt it will be a relief to Mr. Woodman if you find time to undertake them.'

This was the gist of the first two morning calls, and there were many more such periods of penance, for the bride and bridegroom were not modern enough in their notions to sit up to await their visitors, and thankful they were to those who would be at the expense of finding conversation, though this was not always the case; for much of the neighbourhood was of a description to be awed by the mere fact of a great house, and to take the shyness of t.i.tled people for pride. Those with whom they prospered best were a good-natured, merry old dowager d.u.c.h.ess, with whom they felt themselves in the alt.i.tude to which they were accustomed at Hurminster; a loud-voiced, eager old squire, who was bent on being Lord Northmoor's guide and prompter in county business; also an eager, gus.h.i.+ng lady, the echoes of whose communications made Frank remark, after her departure, 'We must beware of encouraging gossip about the former family.'

'Oh, I wish I had the power of setting people down when they say what is undesirable, like Miss Lang, or Lady Adela!' sighed Mary.

'Try to think of them like your school girls,' he said.

The returning of the calls was like continually pulling the string of a shower-bath, and glad were the sighs when people proved to be not at home; but on the whole, being entertained was not half so formidable as entertaining, and a bride was not expected to do more than sit in her white silk, beside the host.

But the return parties were an incubus on their minds. Only they were not to be till after Christmas.

CHAPTER XIII THE DOWER HOUSE

Over the hearth of the drawing-room of the Dower House, in the sociable twilight that had descended on the afternoon tea-table, sat three ladies--for Lady Adela and Miss Morton had just welcomed Mrs. Bury, who, though she had her headquarters in London, generally spent her time in visits to her married daughters or expeditions abroad.

Amice had just exhibited her doll, Elmira's last acquisition, a little chest of drawers, made of matchboxes and b.u.t.tons, that Constance Morton had taught her to make, and then she had gone off to put the said Elmira and her companions to bed, after giving it as her grave opinion that Lady Northmoor was a great acquisition.

'Do you think so?' said Mrs. Bury, after the laugh at the sedate expression.

'She is very kind to Amice, and I do not think she will do her any harm,'

said Lady Adela.

'Governessing was her _metier_,' added Bertha, 'so it is not likely.'

'And how does it turn out?'

'Oh, it might be a good deal worse. I see no reason for not living on here.'

'And you, Birdie?'

'No, I _couldn't_! I've been burning to get away these seven years, and as Northmoor actually seems capable of taking my boys, my last tie is gone. I'm only afraid he'll bore them with too much Sabbatarianism and temperance. He is just the cut of the model Sabbath-school teacher, only he vexes Addie's soul by dashes of the Ritualist.'

'Well,' said Mrs. Bury, 'the excellent Mr. Woodman is capable of improvement.'

'But how?' said Lady Adela. 'Narrow ritualism without knowledge or principle is a thing to be deprecated.'

'Is it without knowledge or principle?'

'How should an attorney's clerk get either?'

'But I understand you that they are worthy people, and not obnoxious.'

'Worthy!' exclaimed Bertha. 'Yes, worthy to their stiff backbones, worthy to the point of utter dulness; they haven't got enough vulgarity even to drop their h's or be any way entertaining. I should like them ever so much better if they ate with their knives and drank out of their saucers, but she can't even misp.r.o.nounce a French word worse than most English people.'

'No pretension even?'

'Oh no; if there were, one could get some fun out of it. I have heard of bearing honours meekly, but they don't even do that, they just let them hang on them, like the stick and stock they are. If I were Addie, it would be the deadly liveliness that would drive me away.'

'Nay,' said Adela; 'one grows to be content with mere negations, if they are nothing worse. I _could_ be driven away, or at least find it an effort to remain, if Lady Northmoor were like her sister-in-law.'

'Ah, now, that's just what would make it tolerable to me. I could get a rise or two out of that Mrs. Morton. I did get her to be confidential and to tell me how much better the honours would have sat upon her dear husband. I believe she thinks that if he were alive he would have shared them like the Spartan kings. She wishes that "her brother, Lord Northmoor" (you should hear the tone), "were more worldly, and she begs me to impress on him the duty of doing everything for her dear Herbert, who, in the nature of things, must be the heir to the peerage."'

'I am sure I hope not,' said Lady Adela. 'He is an insufferable boy.

The people about the place can't endure him. He is quite insolent.'

'The animal, man, when in certain stages of development, has a peculiar tendency to be unpleasant,' observed Bertha philosophically. 'To my mind, Master Herbert is the most promising of the specimens.'

'Birdie! He is much worse than his uncle.'

'Promising, I said, not performing. Whatever promise there may have been in Northmoor must have been nipped upon the top of a high stool, but if he has sense enough to put that boy into good hands he may come to something. I like him enough myself to feel half inclined to do what I can towards licking him into shape, for the honour of the family! It is that girl Ida that riles me most.'