The Martins Of Cro' Martin Volume I Part 20

He only shrugged his shoulders in reply.

"And who can it be?" said she again.

"Some of the townspeople, of course," said he, carelessly.

"No, no, Joe; it must be a stranger. Maybe it's Morgan Drake; his aunt expected him back from Jamaica before Christmas. Or it 's Corny Dwyer 's come home from Africa; you know he went on the deploring expedition--"

"Exploring, mother,--exploring."

"Well, exploring or deploring, it's all the same. He went four years ago, and all the tidings they 've had of him was an elephant's tooth he sent home to his stepfather. I know it's Corny, for your father always liked him and the funny stories he told."

"Perhaps so!" replied Joe.

"I wonder, is he grown any bigger? He was little better than a dwarf when he went away, and the same age as yourself. No, indeed, he was older,--fourteen months older. It was Catty Henderson was running in my head. Is n't she a fine young woman, Joe?"

"Remarkably so," said he, with more animation in his tone.

"A little bit too haughty-looking and proud, maybe, considering her station in life, and that she has to go to service--"

"Go to service, mother?"

"To be sure she has. If they can't get her a place as a governess or a companion, she 'll have to take what she can get. Her father's married again, my dear Joe; and when men do that!" And here Mrs. Nelligan uplifted her hands and eyes most expressively. "Ay, indeed," continued she, with a heavy sigh, "and if it was once it was fifty times, Catty's poor mother said to me, 'Sarah,' says she,--she never called me Sally, but always Sarah,--'Sarah,' says she, 'I 've but one comfort, and that is that Catty will never want a mother while you live. You 'll be the same to her as myself,--just as fond, and just as forgiving;' them was her very words!"

"And I hope you have never forgotten them, mother?" said Joe, with emotion.

"Don't you see I have n't; an't I repeating them to you this minute?"

"Yes; but I mean the spirit and the meaning of them," rejoined he, "and that you feel the obligation they 've laid upon you."

"To be sure I feel it; don't I fret over it every time I 'm alone? for I can't get it out of my head that maybe she 'd appear to me--"

"No, but her mother. Oh, it 's nothing to laugh at, Joe. There was Eliza Keane came back every Easter Monday for two-and-twenty years to search for a gravy-spoon. Well, if it's laughing you are, I won't say any more; but here 's the car now, and it's late enough we 'll be on the road!"

"I'm not thinking of going, mother. I never meant to go," said Joe, resolutely.

"Never meant to go, after your father's note to you, Joe?" cried she, in half horror. "Surely it's all as one as ordering you up there."

"I know all that," said he, calmly; "but I see no reason why I should forego the pleasure of a party at the Martins' for the sake of meeting the convivial celebrities of Oughterard."

"But what will you say?"

"Say I'm engaged; have accepted another invitation; or, better still, leave you to make my excuses, mother. Come, come, don't look so terribly shocked and terrified. You know well enough that my father's four-year-old mutton and his crusted port will compensate the company for heavier inflictions than my absence."

"They were always fond of you, Joe," said Mrs. Nelligan, half reproachfully.

"Nothing of the kind, mother; they never cared for me, nor was there any reason why they should. I 'm sure I never cared for them. We endured one another; that was all."

"Oh, dear; but I 'm glad your father is not listening to you," said she, with a stealthy glance around, as though not perfectly a.s.sured of secrecy. "So, then, I suppose, there 's nothing for it but to go up myself and make the best of it; and sure it's all a lottery what temper he 's in, and how he 'll take it. I remember when they put the new duty on--what was it, Joe? I think it was hides--"

"Not the least matter, mother; you 've only to say that Mr. Martin has been kind enough to show me some attentions, and that I am silly enough--if you like to say so--to prefer them to the festive pleasures of Oughterard. In another week or so I shall have to go back to college.

Let me, at least, enjoy the few days of my vacation in my own fas.h.i.+on."

Mrs. Nelligan shook her head mournfully over these signs of rebellion, and muttering many a gloomy foreboding, she went off to her room to make her preparations for the journey.

CHAPTER XII. A VERY "CROSS EXAMINATION"

The morning was bright and sunny, the air sharp, crisp, and bracing, as the heavy travelling-carriage which conveyed Mr. Martin and Lady Dorothea rolled smoothly along the trimly kept approach to Cro' Martin.

Many a beautiful glade, many a lovely vista opened on them as they pa.s.sed along deep-bosomed woods and gently swelling slopes, dotted over with cattle, stretched away on either side; while far in the distance could be seen the battlemented towers of the princely residence.

The lover of nature might have felt intense pleasure at a scene so abounding in objects of beauty. A painter would have lingered with delight over effects of light and shade, glorious displays of color, and graceful groupings of rocks and trees and gnarled stumps. A proud man might have exulted in the selfish enjoyment of feeling that these were all his own; while a benevolent one would have revelled in the thought of all the channels through which such wealth might carry the blessings of aid and charity.

Which of these feelings predominated now in the minds of those who, snugly encased in furs, occupied the respective corners of the ample coach? Shall we own it? Not any of them. A dreamy, unremarking indifference was the sentiment of each; and they sat silently gazing on a prospect which suggested nothing, nor awoke one pa.s.sing emotion in their hearts. Had any one been there to express his admiration of the landscape,--praised the trees, the cattle, or the gra.s.sy slopes,--Martin might have heard him with pleasure, and listened even with interest to his description. My Lady, too, might not unwillingly have lent an ear to some flattery of the splendid demesne of which she was mistress, and accepted as half homage the eulogy of what was hers. None such was, however, there; and so they journeyed along, as seemingly unconscious as though the scene were wrapped in midnight darkness.

Martin had known the spot, and every detail of it, from his boyhood. The timber, indeed, had greatly grown,--graceful saplings had become stately trees, and feathery foliage deepened into leafy shade; but he himself had grown older, too, and his sense of enjoyment, dulled and deadened with years, saw nothing in the scene to awaken pleasure. As for Lady Dorothea, she had reasoned herself into the notion that the walls of her own grounds were the boundaries of a prison, and had long convinced herself that she was a suffering martyr to some mysterious sense of duty. From the drowsy languor in which they reclined they were both aroused, as the pace of the carriage gradually diminished from a smooth brisk trot to an uneven jolting motion, the very reverse of agreeable.

"What have they done? Where are they going?" said Lady Dorothea, peevishly.

And Martin called out from the window, in tones even less gentle. "Oh, it's the new approach; the road is not quite completed," said he, half sulkily, as he resumed his place.

"Another of Miss Martin's clever devices, which, I must say, I never concurred in."

"Why, you always professed to hate the old road by the stables."

"So I did; but I never agreed to pa.s.sing round the back of the house, and thus destroying the privacy of the flower-garden,--the only spot I may dare to call my own. Oh, dear! I shall be shaken to death. Have they broken the carriage? I 'm certain they 've smashed the spring at my side!"

Martin gave a cold, supercilious smile, the only reply to these words.

"They 've only broken a trace, I perceive," said he, casting a hurried glance through the window, as the carriage came to a dead stop.

"You are equanimity itself, sir, this morning," said her Ladys.h.i.+p, in a voice almost tremulous with anger. "I wonder if this admirable temper will befriend you when you shall see the cost of this precious piece of road-making?"

"It employs the people," said he, coolly.

"Employs the people! How I hate that cant phrase! Can't they employ themselves on their own farms? Have n't they digging and draining, and whatever it is, to do of their own? Must they of necessity depend on us for support, and require that we should inst.i.tute useless works to employ them?"

As if to offer a living commentary on her speech, a number of half-fed and less than half-clad men now drew near, and in accents of a most servile entreaty begged to offer their services. Some, indeed, had already busied themselves to repair the broken harness, and others were levelling the road, carrying stones to fill up holes, and in every possible manner endeavoring to render a.s.sistance; but all were vociferous in a.s.serting that the delay would not be above a minute or two; that the road was an elegant one, or would be soon, and that it was a "raal blessing" to see her Ladys.h.i.+p and the master looking so well. In fact, they were thankful and hopeful together; and, notwithstanding the evidences of the deepest dest.i.tution in their appearance, they wore an air of easy, jaunty politeness, such as many a professional diner-out might have envied. Lady Dorothea was in no mood to appreciate such traits; indeed, if the truth must be told, they rather ruffled than soothed her. Martin saw nothing in them; he was too much accustomed to the people to be struck with any of their peculiarities, and so he lay back in silent apathy, and took no notice of them.

With all their alacrity and all their good-will--and there was no lack of either--there was yet such a total absence of all system and order, that their efforts were utterly useless. Some tugged away manfully to raise stones too heavy to lift; others came rudely in contact with fellows heavily laden, and upset them. The st.u.r.dy arms that spoked the hind wheels were resolutely antagonized by as vigorous struggles to move the fore ones. Every one shouted, cried, cursed, and laughed, by turns; and a more hopeless scene of confusion and uproar need not be conceived.

Nor was Lady Dorothea herself an inactive spectator; for, with her head from the carriage-window, she directed a hundred impossible measures, and sat down at last, overcome with rage and mortification at their blunders.

The tumult was now at the highest, and the horses, terrified by the noise around them, had commenced plunging and rearing fearfully, when Mary Martin came galloping up to the spot at full speed.

"Let go that bridle, Hogan," cried she, aloud; "you are driving that horse mad. Loose the leaders' traces; unbuckle the reins, Patsey; the wheelers will stand quietly. There, lead them away. Speak to that mare; she 's trembling with fear. I told you not to come by this road, Barney; and it was only by accident that I saw the wheel-tracks. A thousand pardons, Aunt Dora, for this mishap. Barney misunderstood my orders. It will be all right in a moment. Once over this bad spot, the road is hard and level."

"Having no taste, nor any genius for adventures, Miss Martin," began her Ladys.h.i.+p--But Mary did not await the remainder of the speech; for, turning her horse sharply round, and beckoning to some of the people to follow her, she was away across the lawn at a smart canter. Having arrived at a small wooden bridge over a river, she ordered the men to lift some of the planking, by the aid of which they soon constructed a firm and safe pa.s.sage for the carriage; and as her presence was the signal for quiet obedience and prompt action, in less than ten minutes the difficulty was surmounted, the horses reharnessed, and all in readiness to proceed on their way.