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Mr. Cecil Burleigh preserved his dignified composure, and came up to Bessie, who said, "This is only the beginning?"
"Only the beginning--the real work is all to do," said he, and entered into a low-toned exposition thereof quite calmly.
It was at this moment that Mr. John Short, happening to cast an eye upon the two, received one of those happy inspirations that visit in emergency men of superior resources and varied experience. At Lady Angleby's behest the pretty ladies in blue bonnets set out to shop, pay calls in the town, and show their colors, and the agent attached himself to the party. They all left the "George" together, but it was not long before they divided, and Mr. Cecil Burleigh and Bessie, having nowhere particular where they wished to go, wandered towards the minster. Mr.
John Short, without considering whether his company might be acceptable, adhered to them, and at length boldly suggested that they were not far from the thoroughfare in which the "Red Lion" was situated, and that a word from the aspirant candidate to Buller might not be thrown away.
It was the hour of the afternoon when the host of the "Red Lion" sat at the receipt of news and custom, smoking his pipe after dinner in the shade of an old elm tree by his own door. He was a burly man, with a becoming sense of his importance and weight in the world, and as honest a desire to do his share in mending it as his betters. He was not to be bought by any of the usual methods of electioneering sale and barter, but he had a soft place in his heart that Mr. John Short knew of, and was not therefore to be relinquished as altogether invulnerable.
Mr. Cecil Burleigh could not affect the jocose and familiar, but perhaps his plain way of address was a higher compliment to the publican's understanding. "Is it true, Buller, that you balance about voting again for Bradley? Think of it, and see if you cannot return to the old flag,"
was all he said.
"Sir, I mean to think of it," replied Buller with equal directness. "I'm pleased with what I hear of you, and I like a gentleman, but Bradley explains his puzzling conduct very plausibly: it is no use being factious and hindering business in the House, as he says. And it can't be denied that there's Tory members in the House as factious as any of them pestilent Radical chaps that get up strikes out of doors. I'm not saying that you would be one of them, sir."
"I hope not. For no party considerations would I hinder any advance or reform that I believe to be for the good of the country."
"I am glad to hear it, sir; you would be what we call an independent member. My opinion is, sir, that sound progress feels its way and takes one step at a time, and if it tries to go too fast it overleaps itself."
Mr. Cecil Burleigh was not prepared for political disquisition on the pavement in front of the "Red Lion," but he pondered an instant on Mr.
Buller's plat.i.tude as if it were a new revelation, and then said with quiet cordiality, "Well, think of it, and if you decide to give me your support, it will be the more valuable as being given on conviction.
Good-day to you, Buller."
The publican had risen, and laid aside his pipe. "Good-day to you, sir,"
said he, and as Bessie inclined her fair head to him also, he bowed with more confusion and pleasure than could have been expected from the host of a popular tavern.
Mr. John Short lingered behind, and as the beautiful young people retired out of hearing, admiringly watched by the publican, the lawyer plied his insinuating craft and whispered, "You are always a good-natured man, Buller. Look at those two--_No election, no wedding_."
"You don't say so!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Buller with kindly sympathy in his voice.
"A pretty pair, indeed, to run in a curricle! I should think now his word's as good as his bond--eh? Egad, then, I'll give 'em a plumper!"
The agent shook hands with him on it delighted. "You are a man of your word too, Buller. I thank you," he said with fervor, and felt that this form of bribery and corruption had many excuses besides its success. He did not intend to divulge by what means the innkeeper's pledge had been obtained, lest his chief might not quite like it, and with a few nods, becks, and half-words he ensured Buller's silence on the delicate family arrangement that he had so prematurely confided to his ear. And then he went back to the "George" with the approving conscience of an agent who has done his master good secret service without risking any impeachment of his honor. He fully expected that time would make his words true.
Unless in that confidence, Mr. Short was not the man to have spoken them, even to win an election.
Mr. Cecil Burleigh and Miss Fairfax strolled a little farther, and then retraced their steps to the minster, and went in to hear the anthem.
Presently appeared in the distance Mr. Fairfax and Miss Burleigh, and when the music was over signed to them to come away. Lady Angleby was waiting in the carriage at the great south door to take them home, and in the beautiful light of the declining afternoon they drove out of the town to Brentwood--a big, square, convenient old house, surrounded by a pleasant garden divided from the high-road by a belt of trees.
Mrs. Betts was already installed in the chamber allotted to her young lady, and had spread out the pretty new clothes she was to wear. She was deeply serious, and not disposed to say much after her morning's lesson.
Bessie had apparently dismissed the recollection of it. She came in all good-humor and cheerfulness. She hummed a soft little tune, and for the first time submitted patiently to the a.s.siduities of the experienced waiting-woman. Mrs. Betts did not fail to make her own reflections thereupon, and to interpret favorably Miss Fairfax's evidently happy preoccupation.
CHAPTER XXV.
_A DINNER AT BRENTWOOD._
There was rejoicing at Brentwood that evening. All the guests staying in the house were a.s.sembled in the drawing-room before dinner, when Mr.
Oliver Smith, who had retained quarters at the "George," walked in with an appearance of high satisfaction, and immediately began to say, "I bring you good news. Buller has made up his mind to do the right thing, Burleigh, and give you a plumper. He hailed my cab as I was pa.s.sing the 'Red Lion' on my road here, and told me his decision. Do you carry witchcraft about with you?"
"Buller could not resist the old name and the old colors. Miss Fairfax is my witchcraft," said Mr. Cecil Burleigh with a profound bow to Bessie, in gay acknowledgment of her unconscious services.
Bessie blushed with pleasure, and said, "Indeed, I never opened my mouth."
"Oh, charms work in silence," said Mr. Oliver Smith.
Lady Angleby was delighted; Mr. Fairfax looked gratified, and gave his granddaughter an approving nod.
The next and last arrivals were Mr. and Mrs. Chiverton. Mr. Chiverton was known to all present, but the bride was a stranger except to one or two. She was attired in rich white silk--in full dress--so terribly trying to the majority of women, and Bessie Fairfax's first thought on seeing her again was how much less beautiful she was than in her simple _percale_ dresses at school. She did not notice Bessie at once, but when their eyes met and Bessie smiled, she ran to embrace her with expansive cordiality. Bessie, her beaming comeliness notwithstanding, could a.s.sume in an instant a touch-me-not air, and gave her hand only, though that with a kind frankness; and then they sat down and talked of Caen.
Mrs. Chiverton's report as a woman of extraordinary beauty and virtue had preceded her into her husband's country, but to the general observer Miss Fairfax was much more pleasing. She also wore full dress--white relieved with blue--but she was also able to wear it with a grace; for her arms were lovely, and all her contours fair, rounded, and dimpled, while Mrs. Chiverton's tall frame, though very stately, was very bony, and her little head and pale, cla.s.sical face, her brown hair not abundant, and eyes too cold and close together, with that expression of intense pride which is a character in itself, required a taste cultivated amidst statuary to appreciate. This taste Mr. Chiverton possessed, and his wife satisfied it perfectly.
Bessie looked at Mr. Chiverton with curiosity, and looked quickly away again, retaining an impression of a cur-like face with a fixed sneer upon it. He was not engaged in conversation at the time; he was contemplating his handsome wife with critical admiration, as he might have contemplated a new acquisition in his gallery of antique marbles.
In his eyes the little girl beside her was a mere golden-haired, rosy, plump rustic, who served as a foil to his wife's Minerva-like beauty.
Lady Angleby was great lady enough to have her own by-laws of etiquette in her own house, and her nephew was a.s.signed to take Miss Fairfax to dinner. They sat side by side, and were wonderfully sociable at one end of the table, with the hostess and Mr. Fairfax facing them at the other.
Besides the guests already introduced, there was one other gentleman, very young--Sir Edward Lucas--whose privilege it was to escort Mrs.
Chiverton. Mr. Forbes gave his arm to Miss Burleigh. Mr. Chiverton and Mr. Oliver Smith had no ladies: Lady Angleby liked a preponderance of gentlemen at her entertainments. Everybody talked and was pleasant, and Bessie Fairfax felt almost at ease, so fast does confidence grow in the warm atmosphere of courtesy and kindness. When the ladies retired to the drawing-room she was bidden to approach Lady Angleby's footstool, and treated caressingly; while Mrs. Chiverton was allowed to converse on philanthropic missions with Miss Burleigh, who yawned behind her fan and marvelled at the splendor of the bride's jewels.
In the dining-room conversation became more animated when the gentlemen were left to themselves. Mr. Chiverton loved to take the lead. He had said little during dinner, but now he began to talk with vivacity, and was heard with the attention that must be paid to an old man possessed of enormous wealth and the centre of great connexions. He was accustomed to this deference, and cared perhaps for none other. He had a vast contempt for his fellow-creatures, and was himself almost universally detested. But he could bear it, sustained by the bitter tonic of his own numerous aversions. One chief aversion was present at this moment in the elegant person of Mr. Oliver Smith. Mr. Oliver Smith was called not too strong in the head, but he was good, and possessed the irresistible influence of goodness. Mr. Chiverton hated his mild tenacity. His own temper was purely despotic. He had represented a division of the county for several years, and had finally retired from Parliament in dudgeon at the success of the Liberal party and policy. After some general remarks on the approaching election, came up the problem of reconciling the quarrel between labor and capital, then already growing to such proportions that the whole community, alarmed, foresaw that it might have ere long to suffer with the disputants. The immediate cause of the reference was the fact of a great landowner named Gifford having asked for soldiers from Norminster to aid his farmers in gathering in the harvest, which was both early and abundant. The request had been granted. The dearth of labor on his estates arose from various causes, but primarily from there not being cottages enough to house the laborers, his father and he having both pursued the policy of driving them to a distance to keep down the rates.
"The penuriousness of rich men is a constant surprise to me," said Mr.
Forbes. "Dunghill cottages are not so frequent as they were, but there are still a vast number too many. When old Gifford made a solitude round him, Blagg built those reed-thatched hovels at Morte which contribute more poor rogues to the quarter sessions than all the surrounding parishes. That strip of debatable land is the seedbed of crime and misery: the laborers take refuge in the hamlet, and herd together as animals left to their own choice never do herd; but their walk to and from their work is shortened by one half, and they have their excuse. We should probably do the same ourselves."
"The cottages of the small proprietors are always the worst," remarked Mr. Chiverton.
"If you and Gifford would combine to rebuild the houses you have allowed to decay or have pulled down, Morte would soon be left to the owls and the bats," said the clergyman. "By far the larger majority of the men are employed on your farms, and it is no longer for your advantage that their strength should be spent in walking miles to work--if ever it was.
You will have to do it. While Jack was left in brute ignorance, it was possible to satisfy him with brute comforts and control him with brute discipline; but teach Jack the alphabet, and he becomes as shrewd as his master. He begins to consider what he is worth, and to readjust the proportion between his work and his wages--to reflect that the larger share of the profit is, perhaps, due to himself, seeing that he reaps by his own toil and sweat, and his master reaps by the toil and sweat of a score."
Mr. Chiverton had manifested signs of impatience and irritability during Mr. Forbes's address, and he now said, with his peculiar snarl for which he was famous, "Once upon a time there was a great redistribution of land in Egypt, and the fifth part of the increase was given to Pharaoh, and the other four parts were left to be food to the sowers. If Providence would graciously send us a universal famine, we might all begin again on a new foundation."
"Oh, we cannot wait for that--we must do something meanwhile," said Sir Edward Lucas, understanding him literally. "I expect we shall have to manage our land less exclusively with an eye to our own revenue from it."
Mr. Chiverton testily interrupted the young man's words of wisdom: "The fact is, Jack wants to be master himself. Strikes in the manufacturing towns are not unnatural--we know how those mercantile people grind their hands--but since it has come to strikes amongst colliers and miners, I tremble at the prospect for the country. The spirit of insubordination will spread and spread until the very plough-boys in the field are infected."
"A good thing, too, and the sooner the better," said Mr. Oliver Smith.
"No, no!" cried Mr. Fairfax, but Mr. Forbes said that was what they were coming to. Sir Edward Lucas listened hard. He was fresh from Oxford, where boating and athletic exercises had been his chief study. His father was lately dead, and the administration of a great estate had devolved upon him. His desire was to do his duty by it, and he had to learn how, that prospect not having been prepared for in his education, further than by initiation in the field-sports followed by gentlemen.
Mr. Chiverton turned on Mr. Oliver Smith with his snarl: "Your conduct as a landowner being above reproach, you can afford to look on with complacency while the rest of the world are being set by the ears."
Mr. Oliver Smith had very little land, but as all there knew what he had as well as he knew himself, he did not wince. He rejoined: "As a cla.s.s, we have had a long opportunity for winning the confidence of the peasants; some of us have used it--others of us have neglected it and abused it. If the people these last have held lords.h.i.+p over revolt and transfer their allegiance to other masters, to demagogues hired in the streets, who shall blame them?"
"Suppose we all rise above reproach: I mean to try," said Sir Edward Lucas with an eagerness of interest that showed his good-will. "Then if my people can find a better master, let them go."
Mr. Cecil Burleigh turned to the young man: "It depends upon yourself whether they shall find a better master or not. Resolve that they shall not. Consider your duty to the land and those upon it as the vocation of your life, and you will run a worthy career."
Sir Edward was at once gratified and silenced. Mr. Cecil Burleigh's reputation was greater yet than his achievement, but a man's possibilities impress the young and enthusiastic even more than his successes accomplished.
"You hold subversive views, Burleigh--views to which the public mind is not educated up, nor will be in this generation," said Mr. Chiverton.