CHAPTER XX
Lady Tintern was pleased to leave Paddington by a much earliertrain than could have been expected. She hired a fly, and a pair ofbroken-kneed horses, at Brawnton, and once more took her relationsat Hewelscourt by surprise. On this occasion, however, she was notfortunate enough to find her invalid niece at play in the stable-yard,though she detected her at luncheon, and warmly congratulated her uponher robust appearance and her excellent appetite.
Her journey had, no doubt, been undertaken with the very intentionsSarah had described; but another motive also prompted her, which Sarahhad not divined.
Much as she desired to marry her grand-niece to Lord Avonwick, shewas not blind to the young man's personal disadvantages, which wereundeniable; and which Peter had rudely summed up in a word by alludingto his rival as an ass. He was distinguished among the admirers ofMiss Sarah's red and white beauty by his brainlessness no less than byhis eligibility.
Nevertheless, Lady Tintern had favoured his suit. She knew him to be agood fellow, although he was a simpleton, and she was very sure thathe loved Sarah sincerely.
"Whoever the girl marries, she will rule him with a rod of iron. Shehad better marry a fool and be done with it. So why not an eligibleand titled and good-natured fool?" the old lady had written to Mrs.Hewel, who was very far from understanding such reasoning, and weptresentfully over the letter.
Why should Lady Tintern snatch her only daughter away from her inorder to marry her to a fool? Mrs. Hewel was of opinion that asensible young man like Peter would be a better match. She supposednobody would call Sir Peter Crewys of Barracombe a fool; and as forhis being young, he was only a few months younger than Lord Avonwick,and Sarah would have just as pretty a title, even if her husband wereonly a baronet instead of a baron. Thus she argued to herself, andwrote the gist of her argument to her aunt. Why was Sarah to gohunting the highways and byways for titled fools, when there was Peterat her very door,--a young man she had known all her life, and one ofthe oldest families in Devon, and seven thousand acres of land onlynext week, when he would come of age, and could marry whomever heliked? Though, of course, Sarah must not go against her aunt, whohad promised to do so much for her, and given her so many beautifulthings, whether young girls ought to wear jewellery or not.
This was the distracted letter which was bringing Lady Tintern toHewelscourt. She had been annoyed with Sarah for refusing LordAvonwick, and thought it would do the rebellious young lady no harm toreturn for a time to the bosom of her family, and thus miss Newmarket,which Sarah particularly desired to attend, since no society functioninterested her half so much as racing.
The old lady had not in the least objected to Sarah's friendship foryoung Sir Peter Crewys. Sarah, as John had truly said, was a star withmany satellites; and among those satellites Peter did not shine withany remarkable brilliancy, being so obviously an awkward country-bredlad, not at home in the surroundings to which her friendship hadintroduced him, and rather inclined to be surly and quarrelsome thanpleasant or agreeable.
Lady Tintern had not taken such a boy's attentions to her grand-nieceseriously; but if Sarah were taking them seriously, she thought shehad better inquire into the matter at once. Therefore the energeticold woman not only arrived unexpectedly at Hewelscourt in the middleof luncheon, but routed her niece off her sofa early in the afternoon,and proposed that she should immediately cross the river and call uponPeter's mother.
"I have never seen the place except from these windows; perhaps I amunderrating it," said Lady Tintern. "I've never met Lady Mary Crewys,though I know all the Setouns that ever were born. Never mind whoought to call on me first! What do I care for such nonsense? The boyis a cub and a bear--_that_ I know--since he stayed in my house for afortnight, and never spoke to me if he could possibly help it. He is anobody! Sir Peter Fiddlesticks! Who ever heard of him or his family, Ishould like to know, outside this ridiculous place? His name is speltwrong! Of course I have heard of Crewys, K.C. Everybody has heard ofhim. That has nothing to do with it. Yes, I know the young man didwell in South Africa. All our young men did well in South Africa.Pray, is Sarah to marry them all? If _that_ is what she is after, thesooner I take it in hand the better. Lunching by herself on the moorsindeed! No; I am not at all afraid of the ferry, Emily. If you are, Iwill go alone, or take your good man."
"The colonel is out shooting, as you know, and won't be back tilltea-time," said Mrs. Hewel, becoming more and more flurried under thistorrent of lively scolding.
"The colonel! Why don't you say Tom? Colonel indeed!" said LadyTintern. "Very well, I shall go alone."
But this Mrs. Hewel would by no means allow. She reluctantly abandonedthe effort to dissuade her aunt, put on her visiting things with asmuch speed as was possible to her, and finally accompanied her acrossthe river to pay the proposed visit to Barracombe House.
Lady Mary received her visitors in the banqueting hall, an apartmentwhich excited Lady Tintern's warmest approval. The old lady dated theoak carving in the hall, and in the yet more ancient library; namedthe artists of the various pictures; criticized the ceilings, andpraised the windows.
Mrs. Hewel feared her outspokenness would offend Lady Mary, but shecould perceive only pleasure and amusement in the face of her hostess,between whom and the worldly old woman there sprang up a friendlinessthat was almost instantaneous.
"And you are like a Cosway miniature yourself, my dear," said LadyTintern, peering out of her dark eyes at Lady Mary's delicate whiteface. "Eh--the bright colouring must be a little faded--all theSetouns have pretty complexions--and carmine is a perishable tint, aswe all know."
"Sarah has a brilliant complexion," struck in Mrs. Hewel, zealouslyendeavouring to distract her aunt from the personalities in which shepreferred to indulge.
"Sarah looks like a milkmaid, my love," said the old lady, who didnot choose to be interrupted, "And when she can hunt as much as shewishes, and live the outdoor life she prefers, she will get thecomplexion of a boatwoman." She turned to Lady Mary with a graciousnod. "But _you_ may live out of doors with impunity. Time seems toleave something better than colouring to a few Heaven-blessed women,who manage to escape wrinkles, and hardening, and crossness. Iam often cross, and so are younger folk than I; and your boyPeter--though how he comes to be your boy I don't know--is very oftencross too."
"You have been very kind to Peter," said Lady Mary, laughing. "I amsorry you found him cross."
"No; I was not kind to him. I am not particularly fond of crosspeople," said the old lady. "It is Sarah who has been kind," and shelooked sharply again at Lady Mary.
"I am getting on in years, and very infirm," said Lady Tintern, "and Imust ask you to excuse me if I lean upon a stick; but I should like totake a turn about the garden with you. I hear you have a remarkableview from your terrace."
Lady Mary offered her arm with pretty solicitude, and guided her agedbut perfectly active visitor through the drawing-room--where shestopped to comment favourably upon the water colours--to the terrace,where John was sitting in the shade of the ilex-tree, absorbed in theLondon papers.
Lady Mary introduced him as Peter's guardian and cousin.
"How do you do, Mr. Crewys? Your name is very familiar to me," saidthe old lady. "Though to tell you the truth, Sir Peter looks so mucholder than his age that I forgot he had a guardian at all."
"He will only have one for a few days longer," said John, smiling. "Myauthority will expire very shortly."
"But you are, at any rate, the very man I wanted to see," said LadyTintern, who seldom wasted time in preliminaries. "I would alwaysrather talk business with a man than with a woman; so if Mr. Crewyswill lend me his arm to supplement my stick, I will take a turn withhim instead of with you, my dear, if you have no objection."
"Did you ever hear anything like her?" said poor Mrs. Hewel, turningto Lady Mary as soon as her aunt was out of hearing. "What Mr. Crewysmust think of her, I cannot guess. She always says she had to exerciseso much reticence as an ambassadress, that she has
given her tongue aholiday ever since. But there is only one possible subject _they_ canhave to talk about. And how can we be sure her interference won'tspoil everything? She is quite capable of asking what Peter'sintentions are. She is the most indiscreet person in the world," saidSarah's mother, wringing her hands.
"I think _Peter_ has made his intentions pretty obvious," said LadyMary. She smiled, but her eyes were anxious.
"And you are sure you don't mind, dear Lady Mary? For who can dependon Lady Tintern, after all? She is supposed to be going to do so muchfor Sarah, but if she takes it into her head to oppose the marriage, Ican do nothing with her. I never could."
"I am very far from minding," said Lady Mary. "But it is Sarah on whomeverything depends. What does she say, I wonder? What does she want?"
"It's no use asking _me_ what Sarah wants," said Mrs. Hewel,plaintively. "Time after time I have told her father what would comeof it all if he spoilt her so outrageously. He is ready enough to findfault with the boys, poor fellows, who never do anything wrong; but healways thinks Sarah perfection, and nothing else."
"Sarah is very fortunate, for Peter has the same opinion of her."
"Fortunate! Lady Mary, if I were to tell you the chances that girl hashad--not but what I had far rather she married Peter--though she mighthave done that all the same if she had never left home in her life."
"I am not so sure of that," said Peter's mother.
Lady Tintern's turn took her no further than the fountain garden,where she sank down upon a bench, and graciously requested her escortto occupy the vacant space by her side.
"I started at an unearthly hour this morning, and I am not so young asI was," she said; "but I am particularly desirous of a good night'srest, and I never can sleep with anything on my mind. So I came overhere to talk business. By-the-by, I should have come over here longago, if any one had had the sense to give me a hint that I had only tocross a muddy stream, in a flat-bottomed boat, in order to see a facelike _that_--" She nodded towards the terrace.
John's colour rose slightly. He put the nod and the smile, and thesharp glance of the dark eyes together, and perceived that LadyTintern had drawn certain conclusions.
"There is some expression in her face," said the old lady, musingly,"which makes me think of Marie Stuart's farewell to France. I don'tknow why. I have odd fancies. I believe the Queen of Scots had hazeleyes, whereas this pretty Lady Mary has the bluest eyes I eversaw--quite remarkable eyes."
"Those blue eyes," said John, smiling, "have never looked beyond thisrange of hills since Lady Mary's childhood."
The old lady nodded again. "Eh--a State prisoner. Yes, yes. She hasthat kind of look." Then she turned to John, with mingled slyness andhumour, "On va changer tout cela?"
"As you have divined," he answered, laughing in spite of himself."Though how you have divined it passes my poor powers ofcomprehension."
Lady Tintern was pleased. She liked tributes to her intelligence asother women enjoy recognition of their good looks.
"It is very easy, to an observer," she said. "She is frightened ather own happiness. Yes, yes. And that cub of a boy would not make iteasier. By-the-by, I came to talk of the boy. You are his guardian?"
"For a week."
"What does it signify for how long? Five minutes will settle my views.Thank Heaven I did not come later, or I should have had to talk tohim, instead of to a man of sense. You must have seen what is goingon. What do you think of it?"
"The arrangement suits me so admirably," said John, smiling, "that Iam hardly to be relied upon for an impartial opinion."
"Will you tell me his circumstances?"
John explained them in a few words, and with admirable terseness andlucidity; and she nodded comprehensively all the while.
"That's capital. He can't make ducks and drakes of it. All tied upon the children. I hope they will have a dozen. It would serve Sarahright. Now for my side. Whatever sum the trustees decide to settleupon Sir Peter's wife, I will put down double that sum as Sarah'sdowry. Our solicitors can fight the rest out between them. Theproperty is much better than I had been given any reason to suspect. Ihave no more to say. They can be married in a month. That is settled.I never linger over business. We may shake hands on it." They did sowith great cordiality. "It is not that I am overjoyed at the match,"she explained, with great frankness. "I think Sarah is a fool to marrya boy. But I have observed she is a fool who always knows her ownmind. The fancies of some girls of that age are not worth attendingto."
"Miss Sarah is a young lady of character," said John, gravely.
"Ay, she will settle him," said Lady Tintern. Her small, grim facerelaxed into a witchlike smile.
"The lad is a good lad. No one has ever said a word against him, andhe is as steady as old Time. I believe Miss Sarah's choice, if he isher choice, will be justified," said John.
"I didn't think he was a murderer or a drunkard," said Lady Tintern,cheerfully. Her phraseology was often startling to strangers. "But heis absolutely devoid of--what shall I say? Chivalry? Yes, that isit. Few young men have much nowadays, I am told. But Sir Peter hasnone--absolutely none."
"It will come."
"No, it will not come. It is a quality you are born with or without.He was born without. Sarah knows all about it. It won't hurt her; shehas the methods of an ox. She goes direct to her point, and tramplesover everything that stands in her way. If he were less thick-skinnedshe would be the death of him; but fortunately he has the hide of arhinoceros."
"I think you do them both a great deal less than justice," said John;but he was unable to help laughing.
"Oh, you do, do you? I like to be disagreed with." Her voice shooka little. "You must make allowances--for an old woman--whois--disappointed," said Lady Tintern.
John said nothing, but his bright hazel eyes, looking down on thesmall, bent figure, grew suddenly gentle and sympathetic.
"It is a pleasure to be able to congratulate somebody," she said,returning his look. "I congratulate _you_--and Lady Mary."
"Thank you."
"Most of all, because there is nothing modern about her. She haswalked straight out of the Middle Ages, with the face of a saint and adreamer and a beautiful woman, all in one. I am an old witch, and I amnever deceived in a woman. Men, I am sorry to say, no longer take thetrouble to deceive me. Now our business is over, will you take meback?"
She took the arm he offered, and tottered back to the terrace.
"Bring her to see me in London, and bring her as soon as you can,"said. Lady Tintern. "She is the friend I have dreamed of, and nevermet. When is it going to be?"
"At once," said John, calmly.
"You are the most sensible man I have seen for a long time," said LadyTintern.
* * * * *
Peter and Sarah hardly exchanged a word during their return journeyfrom the moors after the unlucky picnic; and at the door of HappyJack's cottage in Youlestone village she commanded her obedient swainto deposit the luncheon basket, and bade him farewell.
The aged road-mender, to his intense surprise and chagrin, had onemorning found himself unable to rise from his bed. He lay there for aweek, indignant with Providence for thus wasting his time.
"There bain't nart the matter wi' I! Then why be I a-farced to liethic way?" he said faintly. "If zo be I wor bod, I cude understand,but I bain't bod. There bain't no pain tu speak on no-wheres. It vairbeats my yunderstanding."
"Tis old age be the matter wi' yu, vather," said his mate, a youngfellow of sixty or so, who lodged with him.
"I bain't nigh so yold as zum," said Happy Jack, peevishly. "Tis anice way vor a man tu be tuke, wi'out a thing the matter wi' un, vorthe doctor tu lay yold on."
Dr. Blundell soothed him by giving his illness a name.
"It's Anno Domini, Jack."
"What be that? I niver yeard till on't befar," he said suspiciously.
"It's incurable, Jack," said the doctor, gravely.
Happy Jack was consoled. He ro
lled out the word with relish to hisnext visitor.
"Him's vound it out at last. 'Tis the anny-dominy, and 'tis incurable.You'm can't du nart vor I. I got tu go; and 'taint no wonder, wi' zucha complaint as I du lie here wi'. The doctor were vair beat at vust;but him worried it out wi' hisself tu the last. Him's a turble gudedoctor, var arl he wuden't go tu the war."
Sarah visited him every day. He was so frail and withered a littleobject that it seemed as though he could waste no further, and yet hedwindled daily. But he suffered no pain, and his wits were bright tothe end.
This evening the faint whistle of his voice was fainter than ever, andshe had to bend very low to catch his gasping words. He lay propped upon the pillows, with a red scarf tied round the withered scrag of histhroat, and his spotless bed freshly arrayed by his mate's mother, wholived with them and "did for" both.
"They du zay as Master Peter be _carting_ of 'ee, Miss Zairy," hewhispered. "Be it tru?"
"Yes, Jack dear, it's true. Are you glad?"
"I be glad if yu thinks yu'll git 'un," wheezed poor Jack. "'Twude bea turble gude job var 'ee tu git a yusband. But doan't 'ee make tushar on 'un, Miss Zairy. 'Un du zay as him be turble vond on yu, andas yu du be playing vast and loose wi' he. That's the ways a youngmaid du go on, and zo the young man du slip thru' 'un's vingers."
"Yes, Jack," said Sarah, with unwonted meekness.
She looked round the little unceiled room, open on one side to thewooden staircase which led to the kitchen below; at the earth-stainedcorduroys hanging on a peg; at the brown mug which held Happy Jack'slast meal, and all he cared to take--a thin gruel.
"'Twude be a grand marriage vor the likes o' yu, Miss Zairy, vor theCrewys du be the yoldest vambly in all Devonsheer, as I've yeard tell;and yure volk bain't never comed year at arl befar yure grandvather'stime. Eh, what a tale there were tu tell when old Sir Timothy marriedMary Ann! 'Twas a vine scandal vor the volk, zo 'twere; but I wuden'tniver give in tu leaving Youlestone. But doan't 'ee play the vule wi'Master Peter, Miss Zairy. Take 'un while yu can git 'un, will 'ee? Andbe glad tu git 'un. Yu listen tu I, vor I be a turble witty man, and Ibe giving of yu gude advice, Miss Zairy."
"I am listening, Jack, and you know I always take your advice."
"Ah! if 'twerent' for the anny-dominy, I'd be tu yure wedding," sighedHappy Jack, "zame as I were tu Mary Ann's. Zo I wude."
She took his knotted hand, discoloured with the labour of eightyyears, and bade him farewell.
"Thee be a lucky maid," said Happy Jack, closing his eyes.
* * * * *
The tears were yet glistening on Sarah's long lashes, when she met thedoctor on his way to the cottage she had just quitted.
She was in no mood for talking, and would have passed him with a hastygreeting, but the melancholy and fatigue of his bearing struck herquick perceptions.
She stopped short, and held out her hand impulsively.
"Dr. Blunderbuss," said Sarah, "did you _very_ much want Peter to findout that--that he could live without his mother?"
"Has anything happened?" said the doctor; his thin face lighted upinstantly with eager interest and anxiety.
"Only _that_" said Sarah. "You trusted me, so I'm trusting you.Peter's found out everything. And--and he isn't going to let hersacrifice her happiness to him, after all. I'll answer for that. Soperhaps, now, you won't say you're sorry you told me?"
"For God's sake, don't jest with me, my child!" said the doctor,putting a trembling hand on her arm. "Is anything--settled?"
"Do I ever jest when people are in earnest? And how can I tell you ifit's settled?" said Sarah, in a tone between laughing and weeping."I--I'm going there to-night. I oughtn't to have said anything aboutit, only I knew how much you wanted her to be happy. And--she's goingto be--that's all."
The doctor was silent for a. moment, and Sarah looked away from him,though she was conscious that he was gazing fixedly at her face. Butshe did not know that he saw neither her blushing cheeks, nor thegroups of tall fern on the red earth-bank beyond her, nor thewhitewashed cob walls of Happy Jack's cottage. His dreaming eyes sawonly Lady Mary in her white gown, weeping and agitated, stumbling overthe threshold of a darkened room into the arms of John Crewys.
"You said you wished it," said Sarah.
She stole a hasty glance at him, half frightened by his silence andhis pallor, remembering suddenly how little the fulfilment of hiswishes could have to do with his personal happiness.
The doctor recovered himself. "I wish it with all my heart," he said.He tried to smile. "Some day, if you will, you shall tell me how youmanaged it. But perhaps--not just now."
"Can't you guess?" she said, opening her eyes in a wonder strongerthan discretion.
How was it possible, she thought, that such a clever man should be sodull?
The doctor shook his head. "You were always too quick for me, littleSarah," he said. "I am only glad, however it happened, that--she--isto be happy at last." He had no thoughts to spare for Sarah, or anyother. As she lingered he said absently, "Is that all?"
She looked at him, and was inspired to leave the remorseful andsympathetic words that rushed to her lips unsaid.
"That is all," said Sarah, gently, "for the present."
Then she left him alone, and took her way down to the ferry.
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