The Claverings

by Anthony Trollope

  CHAPTER XXXVI.

  CAPTAIN CLAVERING MAKES HIS LAST ATTEMPT.

  The yachting scheme was first proposed to Archie by his brother Hugh."Jack says that he can make a berth for you, and you'd better come,"said the elder brother, understanding that when his edict had thusgone forth, the thing was as good as arranged. "Jack finds the boatand men, and I find the grub and wine,--and pay for the fishing,"said Hugh; "so you need not make any bones about it." Archie was notdisposed to make any bones about it as regarded his acceptance eitherof the berth or of the grub and wine, and as he would be expected toearn his passage by his work, there was no necessity for any scruple;but there arose the question whether he had not got more importantfish to fry. He had not as yet made his proposal to Lady Ongar, andalthough he now knew that he had nothing to hope from the Russianspy,--nevertheless he thought that he might as well try his own handat the venture. His resolution on this head was always stronger afterdinner than before, and generally became stronger and more strongas the evening advanced;--so that he usually went to bed with afirm determination "to pop," as he called it to his friend Doodles,early on the next day; but distance affected him as well as the hourof the day, and his purpose would become surprisingly cool in theneighbourhood of Bolton Street. When, however, his brother suggestedthat he should be taken altogether away from the scene of action, hethought of the fine income and of Ongar Park with pangs of regret,and ventured upon a mild remonstrance. "But there's this affair ofJulia, you know," said he.

  "I thought that was all off," said Hugh.

  "O dear, no; not off at all. I haven't asked her yet."

  "I know you've not; and I don't suppose you ever will."

  "Yes, I shall;--that is to say, I mean it. I was advised not to bein too much of a hurry; that is to say, I thought it best to let hersettle down a little after her first seeing me."

  "To recover from her confusion?"

  "Well, not exactly that. I don't suppose she was confused."

  "I should say not. My idea is that you haven't a ghost of chance, andthat as you haven't done anything all this time, you need not troubleyourself now."

  "But I have done something," said Archie, thinking of his seventypounds.

  "You may as well give it up, for she means to marry Harry."

  "No!"

  "But I tell you she does. While you've been thinking he's been doing.From what I hear he may have her to-morrow for the asking."

  "But he's engaged to that girl whom they had with them down at therectory," said Archie, in a tone which showed with what horror heshould regard any inconstancy towards Florence Burton on the part ofHarry Clavering.

  "What does that matter? You don't suppose he'll let seven thousanda year slip through his fingers because he had promised to marry alittle girl like her? If her people choose to proceed against himthey'll make him pay swinging damages; that is all."

  Archie did not like this idea at all, and became more than everintent on his own matrimonial prospects. He almost thought that hehad a right to Lady Ongar's money, and he certainly did think thata monstrous injustice was done to him by this idea of a marriagebetween her and his cousin. "I mean to ask her as I've gone so far,certainly," said he.

  "You can do as you like about that."

  "Yes; of course I can do as I like; but when a fellow has gone in fora thing, he likes to see it through." He was still thinking of theseventy pounds which he had invested, and which he could now recoveronly out of Lady Ongar's pocket.

  "And you mean to say you won't come to Norway?"

  "Well; if she accepts me--"

  "If she accepts you," said Hugh, "of course you can't come; butsupposing she don't?"

  "In that case, I might as well do that as anything else," saidArchie. Whereupon Sir Hugh signified to Jack Stuart that Archie wouldjoin the party, and went down to Clavering with no misgiving on thathead.

  Some few days after this there was another little dinner at themilitary club, to which no one was admitted but Archie and his friendDoodles. Whenever these prandial consultations were held, Archiepaid the bill. There were no spoken terms to that effect, but theregulation seemed to come naturally to both of them. Why shouldDoodles be taken from his billiards half-an-hour earlier than usual,and devote a portion of the calculating powers of his brain toArchie's service without compensation? And a richer vintage wasneeded when so much thought was required, the burden of which Archiewould not of course allow to fall on his friend's shoulders. Werenot this explained, the experienced reader would regard the devotedfriendship of Doodles as exaggerated.

  "I certainly shall ask her to-morrow," said Archie, looking witha thoughtful cast of countenance through the club window into thestreet. "It may be hurrying the matter a little, but I can't helpthat." He spoke in a somewhat boastful tone, as though he were proudof himself and had forgotten that he had said the same words once ortwice before.

  "Make her know that you're there; that's everything," said Doodles."Since I fathomed that woman in Mount Street, I've felt that you mustmake the score off your own bat, if you're to make it at all."

  "You did that well," said Archie, who knew that the amount ofpleasing encouragement which he might hope to get from his friend,must depend on the praise which he himself should bestow. "Yes; youcertainly did bowl her over uncommon well."

  "That kind of thing just comes within my line," said Doodles, withconscious pride. "Now, as to asking Lady Ongar downright to marryme,--upon my word I believe I should be half afraid of doing itmyself."

  "I've none of that kind of feeling," said Archie.

  "It comes more in your way, I daresay," said Doodles. "But for me,what I like is a little bit of management,--what I call a touch ofthe diplomatic. You'll be able to see her to-morrow?"

  "I hope so. I shall go early,--that is, as soon as I've lookedthrough the papers and written a few letters. Yes, I think she'll seeme. And as for what Hugh says about Harry Clavering, why, d---- it,you know, a fellow can't go on in that way; can he?"

  "Because of the other girl, you mean?"

  "He has had her down among all our people, just as though they weregoing to be married to-morrow. If a man is to do that kind of thing,what woman can be safe?"

  "I wonder whether she likes him?" asked the crafty Doodles.

  "She did like him, I fancy, in her calf days; but that means nothing.She knows what she's at now, bless you, and she'll look to thefuture. It's my son who'll have the Clavering property and be thebaronet, not his. You see what a string to my bow that is."

  When this banquet was over, Doodles made something of a resolutionthat it should be the last to be eaten on that subject. The matterhad lost its novelty, and the price paid to him was not sufficient tosecure his attention any longer. "I shall be here to-morrow at four,"he said, as he rose from his chair with the view of retreating to thesmoking-room, "and then we shall know all about it. Whichever wayit's to be, it isn't worth your while keeping such a thing as thatin hand any longer. I should say give her her chance to-morrow, andthen have done with it." Archie in reply to this declared that thosewere exactly his sentiments, and then went away to prepare himself insilence and solitude for the next day's work.

  On the following day at two o'clock Lady Ongar was sitting alonein the front room on the ground-floor in Bolton Street. Of HarryClavering's illness she had as yet heard nothing, nor of his absencefrom London. She had not seen him since he had parted from her onthat evening when he had asked her to be his wife, and the last wordsshe had heard from his lips had made this request. She, indeed, hadthen bade him be true to her rival,--to Florence Burton. She had toldhim this in spite of her love,--of her love for him and of his forher. They two, she had said, could not now become man and wife;--buthe had not acknowledged the truth of what she had said. She couldnot write to him. She could make no overtures. She could ask noquestions. She had no friend in whom she could place confidence. Shecould only wait for him, till he should come to her or send to her,and let her know what was to be her fate.


  As she now sat she held a letter in her hand which had justbeen brought to her from Sophie,--from her poor, famished, butindefatigable Sophie. Sophie she had not seen since they had partedon the railway platform, and then the parting was supposed to be madein lasting enmity. Desolate as she was, she had congratulated herselfmuch on her escape from Sophie's friendship, and was driven by noqualms of her heart to long for a renewal of the old ties. But it wasnot so with the more affectionate Sophie; and Sophie therefore hadwritten,--as follows:--

  Mount Street--Friday morning.

  DEAREST DEAREST JULIE,--My heart is so sad that I cannot keep my silence longer. What; can such friendship as ours has been be made to die all in a minute? Oh, no;--not at least in my bosom, which is filled with love for my Julie. And my Julie will not turn from her friend, who has been so true to her,--ah, at such moments too,--oh, yes, at such moments!--just for an angry word, or a little indiscretion. What was it after all about my brother? Bah! He is a fool; that is all. If you shall wish it, I will never speak to him again. What is my brother to me, compared to my Julie? My brother is nothing to me. I tell him we go to that accursed island,--accursed island because my Julie has quarrelled with me there,--and he arranges himself to follow us. What could I do? I could not tie him up by the leg in his London club. He is a man whom no one can tie up by the leg. Mon Dieu, no. He is very hard to tie up.

  Do I wish him for your husband? Never! Why should I wish him for your husband? If I was a man, my Julie, I should wish you for myself. But I am not, and why should you not have him whom you like the best? If I was you, with your beauty and money and youth, I would have any man that I liked,--everything. I know, of course,--for did I not see? It is that young Clavering to whom your little heart wishes to render itself;--not the captain who is a fool,--such a fool! but the other who is not a fool, but a fine fellow;--and so handsome! Yes; there is no doubt as to that. He is beautiful as a Phoebus. [This was good-natured on the part of Sophie, who, as the reader may remember, hated Harry Clavering herself.]

  Well,--why should he not be your own? As for your poor Sophie, she would do all in her power to assist the friend whom she love. There is that little girl,--yes; it is true as I told you. But little girls cannot have all they want always. He is a gay deceiver. These men who are so beautiful as Phoebus are always deceivers. But you need not be the one deceived;--you with your money and your beauty and your--what you call rank. No, I think not; and I think that little girl must put up with it, as other little girls have done, since the men first learned how to tell lies. That is my advice, and if you will let me I can give you good assistance.

  Dearest Julie, think of all this, and do not banish your Sophie. I am so true to you, that I cannot live without you. Send me back one word of permission, and I will come to you, and kneel at your feet. And in the meantime, I am

  Your most devoted friend,

  SOPHIE.

  Lady Ongar, on the receipt of this letter, was not at all changed inher purpose with reference to Madame Gordeloup. She knew well enoughwhere her Sophie's heart was placed, and would yield to no furtherpressure from that quarter; but Sophie's reasoning, nevertheless, hadits effect. She, Lady Ongar, with her youth, her beauty, her wealth,and her rank, why should she not have that one thing which alonecould make her happy, seeing, as she did see, or as she thought shesaw, that in making herself happy she could do so much, could confersuch great blessings on him she loved? She had already found that themoney she had received as the price of herself had done very littletowards making her happy in her present state. What good was it toher that she had a carriage and horses and two footmen six feet high?One pleasant word from lips that she could love,--from the lips ofman or woman that she could esteem,--would be worth it all. She hadgone down to her pleasant place in the country,--a place so pleasantthat it had a fame of its own among the luxuriantly pleasant seats ofthe English country gentry; she had gone there, expecting to be happyin the mere feeling that it was all her own; and the whole thing hadbeen to her so unutterably sad, so wretched in the severity of itsdesolation, that she had been unable to endure her life amidst theshade of her own trees. All her apples hitherto had turned to ashesbetween her teeth, because her fate had forced her to attempt theeating of them alone. But if she could give the fruit to him,--if shecould make the apples over, so that they should all be his, and nothers, then would there not come to her some of the sweetness of thejuice of them?

  She declared to herself that she would not tempt this man to beuntrue to his troth, were it not that in doing so she would sogreatly benefit himself. Was it not manifest that Harry Clavering wasa gentleman, qualified to shine among men of rank and fashion, butnot qualified to make his way by his own diligence? In saying this ofhim, she did not know how heavy was the accusation that she broughtagainst him; but what woman, within her own breast, accuses theman she loves? Were he to marry Florence Burton, would he not ruinhimself, and probably ruin her also? But she could give him all thathe wanted. Though Ongar Park to her alone was, with its rich pasturesand spreading oaks and lowing cattle, desolate as the Dead Sea shore,for him,--and for her with him,--would it not be the very paradisesuited to them? Would it not be the heaven in which such a Phoebusshould shine amidst the gyrations of his satellites? A Phoebusgoing about his own field in knickerbockers, and with attendantsatellites, would possess a divinity which, as she thought, mightmake her happy. As she thought of all this, and asked herself thesequestions, there was an inner conscience which told her that shehad no right to Harry's love or Harry's hand; but still she couldnot cease to long that good things might come to her, though thosegood things had not been deserved. Alas, good things not deservedtoo often lose their goodness when they come! As she was sittingwith Sophie's letter in her hand the door was opened, and CaptainClavering was announced.

  Captain Archibald Clavering was again dressed in his very best, buthe did not even yet show by his demeanour that aptitude for thebusiness now in hand of which he had boasted on the previous eveningto his friend. Lady Ongar, I think, partly guessed the object ofhis visit. She had perceived, or perhaps had unconsciously felt, onthe occasion of his former coming, that the visit had not been madesimply from motives of civility. She had known Archie in old days,and was aware that the splendour of his vestments had a significance.Well, if anything of that kind was to be done, the sooner it was donethe better.

  "Julia," he said, as soon as he was seated, "I hope I have thepleasure of seeing you quite well?"

  "Pretty well, I thank you," said she.

  "You have been out of town, I think?" She told him that she had beenin the Isle of Wight for a day or two, and then there was a shortsilence. "When I heard that you were gone," he said, "I feared thatperhaps you were ill!"

  "O dear, no; nothing of that sort."

  "I am so glad," said Archie; and then he was silent again. He had,however, as he was aware, thrown a great deal of expression into hisinquiries after her health, and he had now to calculate how he couldbest use the standing-ground that he had made for himself.

  "Have you seen my sister lately?" she asked.

  "Your sister? no. She is always at Clavering. I think it doosed wrongof Hugh, the way he goes on, keeping her down there, while he is uphere in London. It isn't at all my idea of what a husband ought todo."

  "I suppose she likes it," said Lady Ongar.

  "Oh, if she likes it, that's a different thing, of course," saidArchie. Then there was another pause.

  "Don't you find yourself rather lonely here sometimes?" he asked.

  Lady Ongar felt that it would be better for all parties that itshould be over, and that it would not be over soon unless she couldhelp him. "Very lonely indeed," she said; "but then I suppose that itis the fate of widows to be lonely."

  "I don't see that at all," said Archie, briskly; "--unless they areold and ugly, and that kind of thing. When a widow has become a widowafter
she has been married ever so many years, why then I suppose shelooks to be left alone; and I suppose they like it."

  "Indeed, I can't say. I don't like it."

  "Then you would wish to change?"

  "It is a very intricate subject, Captain Clavering, and one which Ido not think I am quite disposed to discuss at present. After a yearor two, perhaps I shall go into society again. Most widows do, Ibelieve."

  "But I was thinking of something else," said Archie, working himselfup to the point with great energy, but still with many signs that hewas ill at ease at his work. "I was, by Jove!"

  "And of what were you thinking, Captain Clavering?"

  "I was thinking,--of course you know, Julia, that since poor littleHughy's death, I am the next in for the title?"

  "Poor Hughy! I'm sure you are too generous to rejoice at that."

  "Indeed I am. When two fellows offered me a dinner at the club on thescore of my chances, I wouldn't have it. But there's the fact;--isn'tit?"

  "There is no doubt of that, I believe."

  "None on earth; and the most of it is entailed, too; not that Hughwould leave an acre away from the title. I'm as safe as wax as faras that is concerned. I don't suppose he ever borrowed a shilling ormortgaged an acre in his life."

  "I should think he was a prudent man."

  "We are both of us prudent. I will say that of myself, though Ioughtn't to say it. And now, Julia,--a few words are the best afterall. Look here,--if you'll take me just as I am, I'm blessed if Ishan't be the happiest fellow in all London. I shall indeed. I'vealways been uncommon fond of you, though I never said anything aboutit in the old days, because,--because you see, what's the use of aman asking a girl to marry him if they haven't got a farthing betweenthem. I think it's wrong; I do indeed; but it's different now, youknow." It certainly was very different now.

  "Captain Clavering," she said, "I'm sorry you should have troubledyourself with such an idea as this."

  "Don't say that, Julia. It's no trouble; it's a pleasure."

  "But such a thing as you mean never can take place."

  "Yes, it can. Why can't it? I ain't in a hurry. I'll wait your owntime, and do just whatever you wish all the while. Don't say nowithout thinking about it, Julia."

  "It is one of those things, Captain Clavering, which want no morethinking than what a woman can give to it at the first moment."

  "Ah,--you think so now, because you're surprised a little."

  "Well; I am surprised a little, as our previous intercourse was neverof a nature to make such a proposition as this at all probable."

  "That was merely because I didn't think it right," said Archie, who,now that he had worked himself into the vein, liked the sound of hisown voice. "It was indeed."

  "And I don't think it right now. You must listen to me for a moment,Captain Clavering--for fear of a mistake. Believe me, any such planas this is quite out of the question;--quite." In uttering that lastword she managed to use a tone of voice which did make an impressionon him. "I never can, under any circumstances, become your wife. Youmight as well look upon that as altogether decided, because it willsave us both annoyance."

  "You needn't be so sure yet, Julia."

  "Yes, I must be sure. And unless you will promise me to drop thematter, I must,--to protect myself,--desire my servants not to admityou into the house again. I shall be sorry to do that, and I thinkyou will save me from the necessity."

  He did save her from that necessity, and before he went he gave herthe required promise. "That's well," said she, tendering him herhand; "and now we shall part friends."

  "I shall like to be friends," said he, in a crestfallen voice, andwith that he took his leave. It was a great comfort to him that hehad the scheme of Jack Stuart's yacht and the trip to Norway for hisimmediate consolation.