CHAPTER X.
Throckmorton, who was modesty and respectfulness itself in the presenceof the woman he loved, was far from being nervous or diffident with herfamily. Next morning, having devoted all his smoking hours, whichcomprised the meditative part of his life, to Jacqueline, it occurred tohim that he would have to tackle Mrs. Temple. That quite exhilarated andamused him. He knew well enough the Temple tradition, by which themaster of the house was the nominal ruler, while the mistress was theactual ruler, and he also knew it would not be repeated at Millenbeck.He was indulgent toward women to the last degree--indulgent of theirwhims, their foibles, their faults and follies; but it was anindulgence, not a right. Jacqueline would find she had as much libertyas ever her mother had, but it would not be by virtue of a strong willover a weak one, but the free gift of affection. The major was not aperson subject to petticoat government. In fact, he did not exactly knowwhat it meant, and the woman did not live who could make him understandit. He rather looked forward to a brush with Mrs. Temple. He knew thatMillenbeck and all the worldly advantages of the match would notinfluence her one iota. The conviction of this, of her entiredisinterestedness and integrity, gave him pleasure. He knew that it washe--George Throckmorton--who would be weighed by Mrs. Temple, if not byJacqueline; this last an afterthought that came to him unpleasantly.
At breakfast, Throckmorton could not but feel a sense of triumph overJack, who, unconscious of an impending step-mother, sat opposite hisfather, and talked in the free, frank way to him that Throckmorton hadalways encouraged. The young rascal would see, thought Throckmorton,with much satisfaction, that it was possible for a man of forty-four,with more gray hairs than black in his head, to hold his own evenagainst a fellow as fascinating as Jack fancied himself to be. As luckwould have it, Jack began to talk about the Temples.
"Major, don't you think Mrs. Beverley a very captivating woman? ByGeorge! she looks so pretty in that little black bonnet she wears, if itwasn't for interfering with you, sir, I would be tempted to go in andwin myself."
The boy's impudence tickled Throckmorton. He could not but laugh inspite of himself at the idea--Jack, whom Judith treated very much as shedid Beverley! But Jack evidently thought his father had designs in thatquarter, which misapprehension still further amused the major.
"Mrs. Beverley is indeed a charming woman," he answered.
Jack, however, became serious. In his heart he sincerely admired andrevered Judith, and his blessing was ready whenever the major informedhim that she would be the future mistress of Millenbeck.
"Mrs. Beverley has more sense and sprightliness than any other woman Iknow. If she could be persuaded to take off those black things she wrapsherself up in, and be _herself_--which she isn't--I should think shewould be--great fun."
Jack knew Throckmorton well enough to see that the shot had not hit thebull's-eye. Throckmorton was too ready to praise, discuss, and admireJudith. "What does the old fellow want, anyway?" thought Jack tohimself, "if Mrs. Beverley doesn't suit him?" So then and there heentered into a disquisition on women in general and Judith Temple inparticular, which caused Throckmorton to ask sarcastically:
"May I ask where you acquired your knowledge of the sex?"
"It would be impossible to associate with you, major, without learningmuch about them," answered Jack, "you are such a favorite with theladies. You are a very handsome man, you know, sir--"
Here Throckmorton smiled.
"For your age, that is--"
The major frowned slightly.
"They all like you--even little Jacqueline."
To save his life, Throckmorton could not prevent a flush from rising tohis face, which he hated; for the emotions of forty-four are infinitelyridiculous to twenty-two. But it was just as well to have things settledthen. A queer glitter, too, showing understanding, had come into Jack'seyes.
"I may say to you," said Throckmorton, after a little pause, "that youwould do well to be guarded in your references to Miss Temple. She haspromised to marry me."
They had finished breakfast by that time, and were about to separate forthe morning. Jack got up, and Throckmorton noticed his handsome youngface paled a little. He had not escaped Jacqueline's spell any more thanThrockmorton and Freke; but it was not an overmastering spell, and inhis heart he loved his father with a manly affection that he neverthought of putting into words, but which was stronger than any otheremotion. He walked up to Throckmorton and shook hands with him,laughing, but with a nervousness in his laugh, an abashed look on hisface, that told the whole story to Throckmorton's keen eye.
"I congratulate you, sir. She is a--a--beautiful girl--and--and--I hopeyou will be very happy."
"I think I shall," gravely responded Throckmorton. "I can not explainthings to you that you can only learn by experience. I have notforgotten--I never can forget--your mother, who made my happiness duringour short married life. I have been twenty years recovering from thepain of losing her enough to think of replacing her."
Jack had recovered himself a little while Throckmorton was speaking. Thewound was only skin-deep with him.
"And is it to be immediately?" he asked.
"As soon as I can bring it about," replied Throckmorton; "but I have gotto bring my dear, obstinate old friend Mrs. Temple round first"--hereboth of them laughed--"so you will see the necessity of keeping theaffair absolutely quiet."
"You had better join the church, sir," said Jack, who was himself again."That will be your best card to play."
"Very likely," responded Throckmorton, good-humoredly, "but I think Ican win the game even without that."
In the bright morning sunshine out-of-doors Throckmorton began to takeheart of grace about Jacqueline. Jack did not seem to think it such anunequal match. With love and patience what might not be done with anywoman? Throckmorton began to whistle jovially. He went out to the stablelot to take a look at the horses, as he did every morning. Old Tartar,that had carried him during four years' warfare, and was now honorablyretired and turned out to grass, came toward him whinnying and ready forhis morning pat--all horses, dogs, and children loved Throckmorton.Tartar, who had lost an eye in the service of his country, turned hisone remaining orb around so as to see Throckmorton, and rubbed his nobleold head against his master's knee. Throckmorton noticed him more thanusual--his heart was more tender and pitiful to all creatures thatmorning.
Toward noon he went over to Barn Elms. The morning was intensely cold,though clear, and the fields and fences and hedges were still white withsnow. For the first time Throckmorton noticed the extreme shabbiness ofBarn Elms.
"Dear little girl," he said, "she shall have a different home fromthis."
When he reached the house he was ushered straight into the plain,old-fashioned drawing-room, and in a moment Mrs. Temple appeared,perfectly unsuspicious of what had happened or what was going to happen.
"Good-morning," cried Throckmorton--something in his tone showingtriumph and happiness, and in his dark face was a fine red color. "Mrs.Temple, I came over to make a clean breast to you this morning!"
"About what?" asked Mrs. Temple, sedately.
They were both standing up, facing each other.
"About--Jacqueline." Throckmorton spoke her name almost reverently.
A sudden light broke in upon Mrs. Temple. She grew perfectly rigid.
"Jacqueline!" she said, in an undescribable tone.
"Yes, Jacqueline," answered Throckmorton, coolly. "I love her--I thinkshe loves me--and she has promised to marry me. You may depend upon it,I shall make her keep her promise."
Mrs. Temple remained perfectly silent for two or three minutes beforerecovering her self-possession.
"You are forty-four years old, George Throckmorton."
"I know it. I never lied about my age to anybody."
"You are in the Yankee army!"
"Yes, I am," responded Throckmorton, boldly, "and I shall stay in it."
"And my daughter--"
"For God's sake, Mrs. Temple, let us tal
k reasonably together! I am notgoing to take your daughter campaigning."
"It isn't that I mean, George Throckmorton. I mean the uniform youwear--"
"Is the best in the world! Now, my dear old friend--the best friend Iever had--I want your consent and General Temple's--I want it very much,but it isn't absolutely necessary. Jacqueline and I are to be married.We settled that last night."
Mrs. Temple, with whom nobody had ever taken a bold stand before, lookedperfectly aghast. Throckmorton saw his advantage, and pressed it hard.
"Have you any objection to me personally? Am I a drunkard, or a gambler,or a cad?"
"You are not," responded Mrs. Temple, after a pause. "I think you are,on the whole, except my husband and my dead son, as much of a man--"
Throckmorton took her hand and pressed it.
"Thank you! thank you!" His gratitude spoke more in his tone than hiswords. "And now," he cheerfully remarked, "that you have given yourconsent--"
Mrs. Temple had given no such thing. Nevertheless, within half an hourshe had yielded to the inevitable. She had met a stronger will than herown, and was completely vanquished.
Jacqueline came down, and Throckmorton had a half-hour of rapture notunmixed with pain. If only his reason could be silenced, how happy hewould have been! He did not see Judith; he had quite forgotten her forthe time.
Throckmorton: A Novel Page 10
