The Claverings

by Anthony Trollope

  CHAPTER III.

  LORD ONGAR.

  On the next morning Harry Clavering rode over to Stratton, thinkingmuch of his misery as he went. It was all very well for him, in thepresence of his own family to talk of his profession as the onesubject which was to him of any importance; but he knew very wellhimself that he was only beguiling them in doing so. This questionof a profession was, after all, but dead leaves to him,--to him whohad a canker at his heart, a perpetual thorn in his bosom, a miserywithin him which no profession could mitigate! Those dear ones athome guessed nothing of this, and he would take care that they shouldguess nothing. Why should they have the pain of knowing that he hadbeen made wretched for ever by blighted hopes? His mother, indeed,had suspected something in those sweet days of his roaming with Juliathrough the park. She had once or twice said a word to warn him. Butof the very truth of his deep love,--so he told himself,--she hadbeen happily ignorant. Let her be ignorant. Why should he make hismother unhappy? As these thoughts passed through his mind, I thinkthat he revelled in his wretchedness, and made much to himself of hismisery. He sucked in his sorrow greedily, and was somewhat proud tohave had occasion to break his heart. But not the less, because hewas thus early blighted, would he struggle for success in the world.He would show her that, as his wife, she might have had a worthierposition than Lord Ongar could give her. He, too, might probably risethe quicker in the world, as now he would have no impediment of wifeor family. Then, as he rode along, he composed a sonnet, fitting tohis case, the strength and rhythm of which seemed to him, as he saton horseback, to be almost perfect. Unfortunately, when he was backat Clavering, and sat in his room with the pen in his hand, the turnof the words had escaped him.

  He found Mr. Burton at home, and was not long in concluding hisbusiness. Messrs. Beilby and Burton were not only civil engineers,but were land surveyors also, and land valuers on a great scale. Theywere employed much by Government upon public buildings, and if notarchitects themselves, were supposed to know all that architectsshould do and should not do. In the purchase of great propertiesMr. Burton's opinion was supposed to be, or to have been, as good asany in the kingdom, and therefore there was very much to be learnedin the office at Stratton. But Mr. Burton was not a rich man likehis partner, Mr. Beilby, nor an ambitious man. He had never soaredParliamentwards, had never speculated, had never invented, and neverbeen great. He had been the father of a very large family, all ofwhom were doing as well in the world, and some of them perhapsbetter, than their father. Indeed, there were many who said that Mr.Burton would have been a richer man if he had not joined himselfin partnership with Mr. Beilby. Mr. Beilby had the reputation ofswallowing more than his share wherever he went.

  When the business part of the arrangement was finished Mr. Burtontalked to his future pupil about lodgings, and went out with him intothe town to look for rooms. The old man found that Harry Claveringwas rather nice in this respect, and in his own mind formed an ideathat this new beginner might have been a more auspicious pupil, hadhe not already become a fellow of a college. Indeed, Harry talkedto him quite as though they two were on an equality together; and,before they had parted, Mr. Burton was not sure that Harry did notpatronize him. He asked the young man, however, to join them at theirearly dinner, and then introduced him to Mrs. Burton, and to theiryoungest daughter, the only child who was still living with them."All my other girls are married, Mr. Clavering; and all of themmarried to men connected with my own profession." The colour cameslightly to Florence Burton's cheeks as she heard her father's words,and Harry asked himself whether the old man expected that he shouldgo through the same ordeal; but Mr. Burton himself was quite unawarethat he had said anything wrong, and then went on to speak of thesuccesses of his sons. "But they began early, Mr. Clavering; andworked hard,--very hard indeed." He was a good, kindly, garrulousold man; but Harry began to doubt whether he would learn much atStratton. It was, however, too late to think of that now, andeverything was fixed.

  Harry, when he looked at Florence Burton, at once declared to himselfthat she was plain. Anything more unlike Julia Brabazon neverappeared in the guise of a young lady. Julia was tall, with a highbrow, a glorious complexion, a nose as finely modelled as though aGrecian sculptor had cut it, a small mouth, but lovely in its curves,and a chin that finished and made perfect the symmetry of her face.Her neck was long, but graceful as a swan's, her bust was full, andher whole figure like that of a goddess. Added to this, when hehad first known her, had been all the charm of youth. When she hadreturned to Clavering the other day, the affianced bride of LordOngar, he had hardly known whether to admire or to deplore thesettled air of established womanhood which she had assumed. Herlarge eyes had always lacked something of rapid glancing sparklingbrightness. They had been glorious eyes to him, and in those earlydays he had not known that they lacked aught; but he had perceived,or perhaps fancied, that now, in her present condition, they wereoften cold, and sometimes almost cruel. Nevertheless he was ready toswear that she was perfect in her beauty.

  Poor Florence Burton was short of stature, was brown, meagre, andpoor-looking. So said Harry Clavering to himself. Her small hand,though soft, lacked that wondrous charm of touch which Julia'spossessed. Her face was short, and her forehead, though it was broadand open, had none of that feminine command which Julia's lookconveyed. That Florence's eyes were very bright,--bright and soft aswell, he allowed; and her dark brown hair was very glossy; but shewas, on the whole, a mean-looking little thing. He could not, as hesaid to himself on his return home, avoid the comparison, as she wasthe first girl he had seen since he had parted from Julia Brabazon.

  "I hope you'll find yourself comfortable at Stratton, sir," said oldMrs. Burton.

  "Thank you," said Harry, "but I want very little myself in that way.Anything does for me."

  "One young gentleman we had took a bedroom at Mrs. Pott's, and didvery nicely without any second room at all. Don't you remember, Mr.B.? it was young Granger."

  "Young Granger had a very short allowance," said Mr. Burton. "Helived upon fifty pounds a year all the time he was here."

  "And I don't think Scarness had more when he began," said Mrs.Burton. "Mr. Scarness married one of my girls, Mr. Clavering, when hestarted himself at Liverpool. He has pretty nigh all the Liverpooldocks under him now. I have heard him say that butcher's meat did notcost him four shillings a week all the time he was here. I've alwaysthought Stratton one of the reasonablest places anywhere for a youngman to do for himself in."

  "I don't know, my dear," said the husband, "that Mr. Clavering willcare very much for that."

  "Perhaps not, Mr. B.; but I do like to see young men careful abouttheir spendings. What's the use of spending a shilling when sixpencewill do as well; and sixpence saved when a man has nothing buthimself, becomes pounds and pounds by the time he has a family abouthim."

  During all this time Miss Burton said little or nothing, and HarryClavering himself did not say much. He could not express anyintention of rivalling Mr. Scarness's economy in the article ofbutcher's meat, nor could he promise to content himself withGranger's solitary bedroom. But as he rode home he almost began tofear that he had made a mistake. He was not wedded to the joys ofhis college hall, or the college common room. He did not like thenarrowness of college life. But he doubted whether the change fromthat to the oft-repeated hospitalities of Mrs. Burton might not betoo much for him. Scarness's four shillings'-worth of butcher's meathad already made him half sick of his new profession, and thoughStratton might be the "reasonablest place anywhere for a young man,"he could not look forward to living there for a year with muchdelight. As for Miss Burton, it might be quite as well that she wasplain, as he wished for none of the delights which beauty affords toyoung men.

  On his return home, however, he made no complaint of Stratton. He wastoo strong-willed to own that he had been in any way wrong, and whenearly in the following week he started for St. Cuthbert's, he wasable to speak with cheerful hope of his new prospects. If ultimatelyhe should find l
ife in Stratton to be unendurable, he would cut thatpart of his career short, and contrive to get up to London at anearlier time than he had intended.

  On the 31st of August Lord Ongar and Sir Hugh Clavering reachedClavering Park, and, as has been already told, a pretty little notewas at once sent up to Miss Brabazon in her bedroom. When she metLord Ongar in the drawing-room, about an hour afterwards, she hadinstructed herself that it would be best to say nothing of the note;but she could not refrain from a word. "I am much obliged, my lord,by your kindness and generosity," she said, as she gave him her hand.He merely bowed and smiled, and muttered something as to his hopingthat he might always find it as easy to gratify her. He was a littleman, on whose behalf it certainly appeared that the Peerage must havetold a falsehood; it seemed so at least to those who judged of hisyears from his appearance. The Peerage said that he was thirty-six,and that, no doubt, was in truth his age, but any one would havedeclared him to be ten years older. This look was produced chieflyby the effect of an elaborately dressed jet black wig which he wore.What misfortune had made him bald so early,--if to be bald early inlife be a misfortune,--I cannot say; but he had lost the hair fromthe crown of his head, and had preferred wiggery to baldness. Nodoubt an effort was made to hide the wiggishness of his wigs, butwhat effect in that direction was ever made successfully? He was,moreover, weak, thin, and physically poor, and had, no doubt,increased this weakness and poorness by hard living. Though othersthought him old, time had gone swiftly with him, and he still thoughthimself a young man. He hunted, though he could not ride. He shot,though he could not walk. And, unfortunately, he drank, though hehad no capacity for drinking! His friends at last had taught him tobelieve that his only chance of saving himself lay in marriage, andtherefore he had engaged himself to Julia Brabazon, purchasing her atthe price of a brilliant settlement. If Lord Ongar should die beforeher, Ongar Park was to be hers for life, with thousands a year tomaintain it. Courton Castle, the great family seat, would of coursego to the heir; but Ongar Park was supposed to be the most delightfulsmall country-seat anywhere within thirty miles of London. It layamong the Surrey hills, and all the world had heard of the charms ofOngar Park. If Julia were to survive her lord, Ongar Park was to behers; and they who saw them both together had but little doubt thatshe would come to the enjoyment of this clause in her settlement.Lady Clavering had been clever in arranging the match; and Sir Hugh,though he might have been unwilling to give his sister-in-law moneyout of his own pocket, had performed his duty as a brother-in-law inlooking to her future welfare. Julia Brabazon had no doubt that shewas doing well. Poor Harry Clavering! She had loved him in the daysof her romance. She, too, had written her sonnets. But she had grownold earlier in life than he had done, and had taught herself thatromance could not be allowed to a woman in her position. She washighly born, the daughter of a peer, without money, and even withouta home to which she had any claim. Of course she had accepted LordOngar, but she had not put out her hand to take all these good thingswithout resolving that she would do her duty to her future lord. Theduty would be doubtless disagreeable, but she would do it with allthe more diligence on that account.

  September passed by, hecatombs of partridges were slaughtered, andthe day of the wedding drew nigh. It was pretty to see Lord Ongar andthe self-satisfaction which he enjoyed at this time. The world wasbecoming young with him again, and he thought that he rather likedthe respectability of his present mode of life. He gave himself butscanty allowances of wine, and no allowance of anything stronger thanwine, and did not dislike his temperance. There was about him at allhours an air which seemed to say, "There; I told you all that I coulddo it as soon as there was any necessity." And in these halcyon dayshe could shoot for an hour without his pony, and he liked the gentlecourteous badinage which was bestowed upon his courtship, and heliked also Julia's beauty. Her conduct to him was perfect. She wasnever pert, never exigeant, never romantic, and never humble. Shenever bored him, and yet was always ready to be with him when hewished it. She was never exalted; and yet she bore her high place asbecame a woman nobly born and acknowledged to be beautiful.

  "I declare you have quite made a lover of him," said Lady Claveringto her sister. When a thought of the match had first arisen in SirHugh's London house, Lady Clavering had been eager in praise of LordOngar, or eager in praise rather of the position which the futureLady Ongar might hold; but since the prize had been secured, since ithad become plain that Julia was to be the greater woman of the two,she had harped sometimes on the other string. As a sister she hadstriven for a sister's welfare, but as a woman she could not keepherself from comparisons which might tend to show that after all,well as Julia was doing, she was not doing better than her eldersister had done. Hermione had married simply a baronet, and not therichest or the most amiable among baronets; but she had married aman suitable in age and wealth, with whom any girl might have beenin love. She had not sold herself to be the nurse, or not to be thenurse, as it might turn out, of a worn-out debauche. She would havehinted nothing of this, perhaps have thought nothing of this, had notJulia and Lord Ongar walked together through the Clavering grovesas though they were two young people. She owed it as a duty to hersister to point out that Lord Ongar could not be a romantic youngperson, and ought not to be encouraged to play that part.

  "I don't know that I have made anything of him," answered Julia. "Isuppose he's much like other men when they're going to be married."Julia quite understood the ideas that were passing through hersister's mind, and did not feel them to be unnatural.

  "What I mean is, that he has come out so strong in the Romeo line,which we hardly expected, you know. We shall have him under yourbedroom window with a guitar like Don Giovanni."

  "I hope not, because it's so cold. I don't think it likely, as heseems fond of going to bed early."

  "And it's the best thing for him," said Lady Clavering, becomingserious and carefully benevolent. "It's quite a wonder what goodhours and quiet living have done for him in so short a time. I wasobserving him as he walked yesterday, and he put his feet to theground as firmly almost as Hugh does."

  "Did he indeed? I hope he won't have the habit of putting his handdown firmly as Hugh does sometimes."

  "As for that," said Lady Clavering, with a little tremor, "I don'tthink there's much difference between them. They all say that whenLord Ongar means a thing he does mean it."

  "I think a man ought to have a way of his own."

  "And a woman also, don't you, my dear? But, as I was saying, if LordOngar will continue to take care of himself he may become quite adifferent man. Hugh says that he drinks next to nothing now, andthough he sometimes lights a cigar in the smoking-room at night, hehardly ever smokes it. You must do what you can to keep him fromtobacco. I happen to know that Sir Charles Poddy said that so manycigars were worse for him even than brandy."

  All this Julia bore with an even temper. She was determined to beareverything till her time should come. Indeed she had made herselfunderstand that the hearing of such things as these was a part of theprice which she was to be called upon to pay. It was not pleasant forher to hear what Sir Charles Poddy had said about the tobacco andbrandy of the man she was just going to marry. She would sooner haveheard of his riding sixty miles a day, or dancing all night, as shemight have heard had she been contented to take Harry Clavering. Butshe had made her selection with her eyes open, and was not disposedto quarrel with her bargain, because that which she had bought wasno better than the article which she had known it to be when she wasmaking her purchase. Nor was she even angry with her sister. "I willdo the best I can, Hermy; you may be sure of that. But there are somethings which it is useless to talk about."

  "But it was as well you should know what Sir Charles said."

  "I know quite enough of what he says, Hermy,--quite as much, Idaresay, as you do. But, never mind. If Lord Ongar has given upsmoking, I quite agree with you that it's a good thing. I wish they'dall give it up, for I hate the smell of it. Hugh has got worse andworse. He
never cares about changing his clothes now."

  "I'll tell you what it is," said Sir Hugh to his wife that night;"sixty thousand a year is a very fine income, but Julia will find shehas caught a Tartar."

  "I suppose he'll hardly live long; will he?"

  "I don't know or care when he lives or when he dies; but, by heaven,he is the most overbearing fellow I ever had in the house with me. Iwouldn't stand him here for another fortnight,--not even to make herall safe."

  "It will soon be over. They'll be gone on Thursday."

  "What do you think of his having the impudence to tellCunliffe,"--Cunliffe was the head keeper,--"before my face, that hedidn't know anything about pheasants! 'Well, my lord, I think we'vegot a few about the place,' said Cunliffe. 'Very few,' said Ongar,with a sneer. Now, if I haven't a better head of game here than hehas at Courton, I'll eat him. But the impudence of his saying thatbefore me!"

  "Did you make him any answer?"

  "'There's about enough to suit me,' I said. Then he skulked away,knocked off his pins. I shouldn't like to be his wife; I can tellJulia that."

  "Julia is very clever," said the sister.

  The day of the marriage came, and everything at Clavering was donewith much splendour. Four bridesmaids came down from London on thepreceding day; two were already staying in the house, and the twocousins came as two more from the rectory. Julia Brabazon had neverbeen really intimate with Mary and Fanny Clavering, but she had knownthem well enough to make it odd if she did not ask them to come toher wedding and to take a part in the ceremony. And, moreover, shehad thought of Harry and her little romance of other days. Harry,perhaps, might be glad to know that she had shown this courtesy tohis sisters. Harry, she knew, would be away at his school. Though shehad asked him whether he meant to come to her wedding, she had beenbetter pleased that he should be absent. She had not many regretsherself, but it pleased her to think that he should have them. SoMary and Fanny Clavering were asked to attend her at the altar. Maryand Fanny would both have preferred to decline, but their mother hadtold them that they could not do so. "It would make ill-feeling,"said Mrs. Clavering; "and that is what your papa particularly wishesto avoid."

  "When you say papa particularly wishes anything, mamma, you alwaysmean that you wish it particularly yourself," said Fanny. "But ifit must be done, it must; and then I shall know how to behave whenMary's time comes."

  The bells were rung lustily all the morning, and all the parish wasthere, round about the church, to see. There was no record of a lordever having been married in Clavering church before; and now thislord was going to marry my lady's sister. It was all one as thoughshe were a Clavering herself. But there was no ecstatic joy in theparish. There were to be no bonfires, and no eating and drinking atSir Hugh's expense,--no comforts provided for any of the poor by LadyClavering on that special occasion. Indeed, there was never much ofsuch kindnesses between the lord of the soil and his dependants.A certain stipulated dole was given at Christmas for coals andblankets; but even for that there was generally some wrangle betweenthe rector and the steward. "If there's to be all this row about it,"the rector had said to the steward, "I'll never ask for it again." "Iwish my uncle would only be as good as his word," Sir Hugh had said,when the rector's speech was repeated to him. Therefore, there wasnot much of real rejoicing in the parish on this occasion, though thebells were rung loudly, and though the people, young and old, didcluster round the churchyard to see the lord lead his bride out ofthe church. "A puir feckless thing, tottering along like,--not halfthe makings of a man. A stout lass like she could a'most blow himaway wi' a puff of her mouth." That was the verdict which an oldfarmer's wife passed upon him, and that verdict was made good by thegeneral opinion of the parish.

  "A puir feckless thing, tottering along like,--"]

  But though the lord might be only half a man, Julia Brabazon walkedout from the church every inch a countess. Whatever price she mighthave paid, she had at any rate got the thing which she had intendedto buy. And as she stepped into the chariot which carried her away tothe railway station on her way to Dover, she told herself that shehad done right. She had chosen her profession, as Harry Claveringhad chosen his; and having so far succeeded, she would do her bestto make her success perfect. Mercenary! Of course she had beenmercenary. Were not all men and women mercenary upon whom devolvedthe necessity of earning their bread?

  Then there was a great breakfast at the park,--for the quality,--andthe rector on this occasion submitted himself to become the guest ofthe nephew whom he thoroughly disliked.