Richard Carvel — Complete
Page 11
CHAPTER X. THE RED IN THE CARVEL BLOOD
After that, when we went back to Annapolis for the winter, there was nolonger any disguise between my tutor and myself. I was not of a mind tofeign a situation that did not exist, nor to permit him to do so. I gavehim to understand that tho' I went to him for instruction, 'twas throughno fault of mine. That I would learn what I pleased and do what pleasedme. And the rector, a curse upon him, seemed well content with that; norcould I come at his devil's reason far wanting me, save for the money,as he had declared. There were days when he and I never touched a hook,both being out of humour for study, when he told me yarns of Frederickof Prussia and his giant guard, of Florence and of Venice, and of thecourt of his Holiness of Rome. For he had drifted about the earth like alog-end in the Atlantic, before his Lordship gave him his present berth.We passed, too, whole mornings at picquet, I learning enough of Horaceto quote at the routs we both attended, but a deal more of kings anddeuces. And as I may add, that he got no more of my money than did I ofhis.
The wonder of it was that we never became friends. He was two men, thisrector of St. Anne's, half of him as lovable as any I ever encountered.But trust him I never would, always meeting him on the middle ground;and there were times, after his talks with Grafton, when his eyes werelike a cat's, and I was conscious of a sinister note in his dealingwhich put me on my guard.
You will say, my dears, that some change had come over me, that I was nolonger the same lad I have been telling you of.
Those days were not these, yet I make no show of hiding or ofpalliation. Was it Dorothy's conduct that drove me? Not wholly. A wildred was ever in the Carvel blood, in Captain Jack, in Lionel, in theancestor of King Charles's day, who fought and bled and even gambledfor his king. And my grandfather knew this; he warned me, but he paid mydebts. And I thank Heaven he felt that my heart was right.
I was grown now, certainly in stature. And having managed one of thelargest plantations in the province, I felt the man, as lads are wontafter their first responsibilities. I commanded my wine at the CoffeeHouse with the best of the bucks, and was made a member of the SouthRiver and Jockey clubs. I wore the clothes that came out to me fromLondon, and vied in fashion with Dr. Courtenay and other macaronies. AndI drove a carriage of mine own, the Carvel arms emblazoned thereon, andHugo in the family livery.
After a deal of thought upon the subject, I decided, for a while atleast, to show no political leanings at all. And this was easier ofaccomplishment than you may believe, for at that time in Maryland Toryand Whig were amiable enough, and the young gentlemen of the firstfamilies dressed alike and talked alike at the parties they bothattended. The non-importation association had scarce made itself felt inthe dress of society. Gentlemen of degree discussed differences amicablyover their decanters. And only on such occasions as Mr. Hood's return,and the procession of the Lower House through the streets, and thearrival of the Good Intent, did high words arise among the quality. Andit was because class distinctions were so strongly marked that it tookso long to bring loyalists and patriots of high rank to the sword'spoint.
I found time to manage such business affairs of Mr. Carvel's as he couldnot attend to himself. Grafton and his family dined in Marlboro' Streettwice in the week; my uncle's conduct toward me was the very soul ofconsideration, and he compelled that likewise from his wife and his son.So circumspect was he that he would have fooled one who knew him awhit less than I. He questioned me closely upon my studies, and in mygrandfather's presence I was forced to answer. And when the rector cameto dine and read to Mr. Carvel, my uncle catechised him so searchinglyon my progress that he was pushed to the last source of his ingenuityfor replies. More than once was I tempted to blurt out the wholewretched business, for I well understood there was some deep gamebetween him and Grafton. In my uncle's absence, my aunt never lost achance for an ill-natured remark upon Patty, whom she had seen thatwinter at the assemblies and elsewhere. And she deplored the state ourpeople of fashion were coming to, that they allowed young girls withoutfamily to attend their balls.
"But we can expect little else, father," she would say to Mr. Carvelnodding in his chair, "when some of our best families openly espouse thepernicious doctrines of republicanism. They are gone half mad over thatWilkes who should have been hung before this. Philip, dear, pour thewine for your grandfather."
Miss Patty had been well received. I took her to her first assembly,where her simple and unassuming ways had made her an instant favourite;and her face, which had the beauty of dignity and repose even so earlyin life, gained her ample attention. I think she would have gone butlittle had not her father laughed her out of some of her domesticity.No longer at Sunday night supper in Gloucester Street was the guest seatempty. There was more than one guest seat now, and the honest barristerhimself was the most pleased at the change. As I took my accustomedplace on the settle cushion,--Patty's first embroidery,--he would cry:
"Heigho, Richard, our little Miss Prim hath become a belle. And I musthave another clerk now to copy out my briefs, and a housekeeper soon, i'faith."
Patty would never fail to flush up at the words, and run to perch on herfather's knee and put her hand over his mouth.
"How can you, Mr. Swain?" says she; "how can you, when 'tis you andmother, and Richard here, who make me go into the world? You know Iwould a thousand times rather bake your cakes and clean your silver! Butyou will not hear of it."
"Fie!" says the barrister. "Listen to her, Richard! And yet she will flyup the stairs to don a fine gown at the first rap of the knocker. Oh,the wenches, the wenches! Are they not all alike, mother?"
"They have changed none since I was a lass," replies the quiet invalid,with a smile. "And you should know what I was, Henry."
"I know!" cries he; "none better. Well I recall the salmon and whiteyour mother gave you before I came to Salem." He sighed and then laughedat the recollection. "And when this strapping young Singleton comes,Richard, 'twould do you good to be hiding there in that cupboard,--andit would hold you,--and count the seconds until Miss Prim has her skirtin her hand and her foot on the lower step. And yet how innocent is shenow before you and me."
Here he would invariably be smothered.
"Percy Singleton!" says Patty, with a fine scorn; "'twill be Mr.Eglinton, the curate, next."
"This I know," says her father, slapping me on the shoulder, "this Iknow, that you are content to see Richard without primping."
"But I have known Richard since I was six," says she. "Richard is one ofthe family. There is no need of disguise from him."
I thought, ruefully enough, that it seemed my fate to be one of thefamily everywhere I went.
And just then, as if in judgment, the gate snapped and the knockersounded, and Patty leaped down with a blush. "What said I say?" criesthe barrister. "I have not seen human nature in court for naught. Run,now," says he, pinching her cheek as she stood hesitating whether to flyor stay; "run and put on the new dress I have bought you. And Richardand I will have a cup of ale in the study."
The visitor chanced to be Will Fotheringay that time. He was not theonly one worn out with the mad chase in Prince George Street, andpreferred a quiet evening with a quiet beauty to the crowded lists ofMiss Manners. Will declared that the other gallants were fools over therare touch of blue in the black hair: give him Miss Swain's, quoth he,lifting his glass,--hers was; the colour of a new sovereign. Will wasnot, the only one. But I think Percy Singleton was the best of them all,tho' Patty ridiculed him--every chance she got, and even to his face.So will: the best-hearted and soberest of women play the coquette.Singleton was rather a reserved young Englishman of four and twenty,who owned a large estate in Talbot which he was laying out with greatsuccess. Of a Whig family in the old country, he had been drawn to thatparty in the new, and so, had made Mr. Swain's acquaintance. The nextstep in his fortunes was to fall in love with Patty, which was naturalenough. Many a night that winter I walked with him from GloucesterStreet to the Coffee House, to sit an hour over, a battl
e. And thereMaster Tom and Dr. Hamilton, and other gay macaronies would sometimesjoin us. Singleton had a greater contempt for Tom than I, but bore withhim for his sister's sake. For Tom, in addition to his other follies,was become an open loyalist, and never missed his Majesty's health,though he knew no better than my Hugo the question at issue. 'Twasnot zeal for King George, however, that made him drunk at one of theassemblies, and forced his sister to leave in the midst of a dance forvery shame.
"Oh, Richard, is, there not something you can do?" she cried, when, Ihad got her back in the little parlour in Gloucester Street; "fatherhas argued and, pleaded and threatened in vain. I thought,--I thoughtperhaps you might help him."
"I think I am not one to preach, or to boast," I replied soberly.
"Yes," said she, looking grave; "I know you are wilder than you used tobe; that you play more than you ought, and higher than you ought."
I was silent.
"And I suspect at whose door it lies," said she.
"'Tis in the blood, Patty," I answered.
She glanced at me quickly.
"I know you better than you think," she said. "But Tom has not yourexcuse. And if he had only your faults I would say nothing. He does notcare for those he should, and he is forever in the green-room of thetheatre."
I made haste to change the subject, and to give her what comfort Imight; for she was sobbing before she finished. And the next day I gaveTom a round talking-to for having so little regard for his sister, thehem of whose skirt he was not worthy to touch. He took it meekly enough,with a barrel of pat excuses to come after. And he asked me to lendhim my phaeton, that he might go a-driving with Miss Crane, of thetheatrical company, to Round Bay!
Meanwhile I saw Miss Manners more frequently than was good for my peaceof mind, and had my turn as her partner at the balls. But I could notbring myself to take third or fourth rank in the army that attended her.I, who had been her playmate, would not become her courtier. Besides, Ihad not the wit.
Was it strange that Dr. Courtenay should pride himself upon thediscovery of a new beauty? And in the Coffee House, and in everydrawing-room in town, prophesy for her a career of conquest such as fewcould boast? She was already launched upon that career. And rumourhad it that Mr. Marmaduke was even then considering taking her hometo London, where the stage was larger and the triumph greater. Was itsurprising that the Gazette should contain a poem with the doctor'swell-known ear-marks upon it? It set the town a-wagging, and left noroom for doubt as to who had inspired it.
"Sweet Pandora, tho' formed of Clay, Was fairer than the Light of Day. By Venus learned in Beauty's Arts, And destined thus to conquer Hearts. A Goddess of this Town, I ween, Fair as Pandora, scarce Sixteen, Is destined, e'en by Jove's Command, To conquer all of Maryland. Oh, Bachelors, play have a Care, For She will all your Hearts ensnare."
So it ran. I think, if dear Mrs. Manners could have had her way, Dollywould have passed that year at a certain young ladies' school in NewYork. But Mr. Marmaduke's pride in his daughter's beauty got the betterof her. The strut in his gait became more marked the day that poemappeared, and he went to the Coffee House both morning and evening,taking snuff to hide his emotions when Miss Manners was spoken of; andhe was perceived by many in Church Street arm in arm with Dr. Courtenayhimself.
As you may have imagined before now, the doctor's profession wasleisure, not medicine. He had known ambition once, it was said, and withreason, for he had studied surgery in Germany for the mere love of thescience. After which, making the grand tour in France and Italy, he hadtaken up that art of being a gentleman in which men became so proficientin my young days. He had learned to speak French like a Parisian, hadhobnobbed with wit and wickedness from Versailles to Rome, and then hadcome back to Annapolis to set the fashions and to spend the fortunehis uncle lately had left him. He was our censor of beauty, and passedjudgment upon all young ladies as they stepped into the arena. To benoticed by him meant success; to be honoured in the Gazette was to becrowned at once a reigning belle. The chord of his approval once seta-vibrating, all minor chords sang in harmony. And it was the doctor whoraised the first public toast to Miss Manners. Alas! I might have knownit would be so!
But Miss Dorothy was not of a nature to remain dependent upon a censor'sfavour. The minx deported herself like any London belle of experience,as tho' she had known the world from her cradle. She was not tobe deceived by the face value of the ladies' praises, nor rebuffedunmercifully by my Aunt Caroline, who had held the sceptre in theabsence of a younger aspirant. The first time these ladies clashed,which was not long in coming, my aunt met with a wit as sharp again asher own, and never afterwards essayed an open tilt. The homage of menDolly took as Caesar received tribute, as a matter of course. The doctorhimself rode to the races beside the Manners coach, leaning gallantlyover the door. My lady held court in her father's box, receivedand dismissed, smiled and frowned, with Courtenay as her master ofceremonies. Mr. Dulany was one of the presidents of the Jockey Clubthat year, and his horse winning the honours he presented her with hiscolours, scarlet and white, which she graciously wore. The doctor sworehe would import a horse the next season on the chance of the privilege.My aunt was furious. I have never mentioned her beauty because I nevercould see it. 'Twas a coarser type than attracted me. She was then notgreatly above six and thirty, appearing young for that age, and she knewthe value of lead in judicious quantity. At that meet gentlemen came toher box only to tally of Miss Manners, to marvel that one so young couldhave the 'bel air', to praise her beauty and addresse, or to remarkhow well Mr. Durlany's red and white became her. With all of which Mrs.Grafton was fain to agree, and must even excel, until her small stock ofpatience was exhausted. To add to her chagrin my aunt lost a prettysum to the rector by Mr. Dulany's horse. I came upon her after the racetrying to coax her head-dress, through her coach door, Mr. Allen havingtight hold of her hand the while.
"And so he thinks he has found a divinity, does: he?" I overheard hersaying: "I, for one, am heartily sick of Dr. Courtenay's motions. Werehe, to choose, a wench out of the King's passengers I'd warrantour macaronies to compose odes to her eyebrows." And at that momentperceiving me she added, "Why so disconsolate, my dear nephew? MissDolly is the craze now, and will last about as long as another of thedoctor's whims. And then you shall have her to yourself."
"A pretty woman is ever the fashion, Aunt Caroline," I said.
"Hoity-toity," returned my aunt, who had by then succeeded in gettingher head-gear safe within; "the fashion, yes until a prettier comesalong."
"There is small danger of that for the present," I said, smiling:"Surely you can find no fault with this choice!"
"Gadzooks! If I were blind, sir, I think I might!" she criedunguardedly.
"I will not dispute that, Aunt Caroline," I answered.
And as I rode off I heard her giving directions in no mild tone to thecoachman through Mr. Allen.
Perchance you did not know, my dears, that Annapolis had the firsttheatre in all the colonies. And if you care to search through the heapof Maryland Gazettes in the garret, I make no doubt you will come acrossthis announcement for a certain night in the spring of the year 1769:
By Permission of his Excellency, the Governor, at the New Theatre in Annapolis, by the American Company of Comedians, on Monday next, being the 22nd of this Instant, will be performed
ROMEO AND JULIET.
(Romeo by a young Gentleman for his Diversion.) Likewise the Farce called
MISS IN HER TEENS.
To begin precisely at Seven of the Clock. Tickets to be had at the Printing Office. Box 10s. Pit 1s 6d. No Person to be admitted behind the Scenes.
The gentleman to perform Romeo was none other than Dr. Courtenayhimself. He had a gentlemanly passion for the stage, as was the fashionin those days, and had organized many private theatricals. The town wasin a ferment over the
event, boxes being taken a week ahead. The doctorhimself writ the epilogue, to be recited by the beautiful Mrs. Hallam,who had inspired him the year before to compose that famous poembeginning:
"Around her see the Graces play, See Venus' Wanton doves, And in her Eye's Pellucid Ray See little Laughing Loves. Ye gods! 'Tis Cytherea's Face."
You may find that likewise in Mr. Green's newspaper.
The new theatre was finished in West Street that spring, the old onehaving proven too small for our gay capital. 'Twas then the best inthe New World, the censor having pronounced it far above any provincialplayhouse he had seen abroad. The scenes were very fine, the boxescarved and gilded in excellent good taste, and both pit and gallerycommodious. And we, too, had our "Fops' Alley," where our macaroniesogled the fair and passed from box to box.
For that night of nights when the doctor acted I received an invitationfrom Dolly to Mr. Marmaduke's box, and to supper afterward in PrinceGeorge Street. When I arrived, the playhouse was lit with myriadcandles,--to be snuffed save the footlights presently,--and the tierswere all brilliant with the costumes of ladies and gentlemen. MissTayloe and Miss Dulany were of our party, with Fitzhugh and Worthington,and Mr. Manners for propriety. The little fop spent his evening, by theway, in a box opposite, where my Aunt Caroline gabbled to him and Mr.Allen during the whole performance. My lady got more looks than any inthe house. She always drew admiration; indeed, but there had been muchspeculation of late whether she favoured Dr. Courtenay or Fitzhugh, andsome had it that the doctor's acting would decide between the two.
When Romeo came upon the stage he was received with loud applause.But my lady showed no interest,--not she, while the doctor ferventlyrecited, "Out of her favour, where I am in love." In the first orchardscene, with the boldness of a practised lover, he almost ignored Mrs.Hallam in the balcony. It seemed as though he cast his burning words andlanguishing glances at my lady in the box, whereupon there was a deal ofnudging round about. Miss asked for her smelling salts, and declared theplace was stifling. But I think if the doctor had cherished a hope ofher affections he lost it when he arrived at the lines, "She speaks,yet she says nothing." At that unhappy moment Miss Dorothy was deep inconversation with Fitzhugh, the audible titter in the audience arousingher. How she reddened when she perceived the faces turned her way!
"What was it, Betty?" she demanded quickly.
But Betty was not spiteful, and would not tell. Fitzhugh himselfexplained, and to his sorrow, for during the rest of the evening shewould have nothing to do with him. Presently she turned to me. Glancingupward to where Patty leaned on the rail between Will Fotheringay andSingleton, she whispered:
"I wonder you can sit here so quiet, Richard. You are showing a deal ofself-denial."
"I am happy enough," I answered, surprised.
"I hear you have a rival," says she.
"I know I have a dozen," I answered.
"I saw Percy Singleton walking with her in Mr. Galloway's fields butyesterday," said Dolly, "and as they came out upon the road they lookedas guilty as if I had surprised them arm in arm."
Now that she should think I cared for Patty never entered my head. I wasthrown all in a heap.
"You need not be so disturbed," whispers my lady. "Singleton has acrooked mouth, and I credit Patty with ample sense to choose betweenyou. I adore her, Richard. I wish I had her sweet ways."
"But," I interrupted, when I was somewhat recovered, "why should youthink me in love with Patty? I have never been accused of that before."
"Oh, fie! You deny her?" says Dolly. "I did not think that of you,Richard."
"You should know better," I replied, with some bitterness.
We were talking in low tones, Dolly with her head turned from the stage,whence the doctor was flinging his impassioned speeches in vain. Andthough the light fell not upon her face, I seemed to feel her looking methrough and through.
"You do not care for Patty?" she whispered. And I thought a quiver ofearnestness was in her voice. Her face was so close to mine that herbreath fanned my cheek.
"No," I said. "Why do you ask me? Have I ever been one to makepretences?"
She turned away.
"But you," I said, bending to her ear, "is it Fitzhugh, Dorothy?"
I heard her laugh softly.
"No," said she, "I thought you might divine, sir."
Was it possible? And yet she had played so much with me that I darednot risk the fire. She had too many accomplished gallants at her feetto think of Richard, who had no novelty and no wit. I sat still, barelyconscious of the rising and falling voices beyond the footlights,feeling only her living presence at my side. She spoke not another worduntil the playhouse servants had relighted the chandeliers, and Dr.Courtenay came in, flushed with triumph, for his mead of praise.
"And how went it, Miss Manners?" says he, very confident.
"Why, you fell over the orchard wall, doctor," retorts my lady. "La! Ibelieve I could have climbed it better myself."
And all he got was a hearty laugh for his pains, Mr. Marmaduke joiningin from the back of the box. And the story was at the Coffee House earlyon the morrow.