CHAPTER XXV.
In Which Much of the History of the Pallisers Is Told.
At the end of ten days Alice found herself quite comfortable atMatching Priory. She had now promised to remain there till the secondweek of December, at which time she was to go to Vavasor Hall,--thereto meet her father and Kate. The Pallisers were to pass theirChristmas with the Duke of Omnium in Barsetshire. "We always areto do that," said Glencora. "It is the state occasion at GatherumCastle, but it only lasts for one week. Then we go somewhere else.Oh dear!"
"Why do you say 'oh dear'?"
"Because--; I don't think I mean to tell you."
"Then I'm sure I won't ask."
"That's so like you, Alice. But I can be as firm as you, and I'm sureI won't tell you unless you do ask." But Alice did not ask, and itwas not long before Lady Glencora's firmness gave way.
But, as I have said, Alice had become quite comfortable at MatchingPriory. Perhaps she was already growing upwards towards the light.At any rate she could listen with pleasure to the few words the Dukewould say to her. She could even chat a little to the Duchess,--sothat her Grace had observed to Lady Glencora that "her cousin was avery nice person,--a very nice person indeed. What a pity it was thatshe had been so ill-treated by that gentleman in Oxfordshire!" LadyGlencora had to explain that the gentleman lived in Cambridgeshire,and that he, at any rate, had not treated anybody ill. "Do you meanthat she--jilted him?" said the Duchess, almost whistling, andopening her eyes very wide. "Dear me, I'm sorry for that. I shouldn'thave thought it." And when she next spoke to Alice she assumed rathera severe tone of emphasis;--but this was soon abandoned when Alicelistened to her with complacency.
Alice also had learned to ride,--or rather had resumed her riding,which for years had been abandoned. Jeffrey Palliser had been hersquire, and she had become intimate with him so as to learn toquarrel with him and to like him,--to such an extent that LadyGlencora had laughingly told her that she was going to do more.
"I rather think not," said Alice.
"But what has thinking to do with it? Who ever thinks about it?"
"I don't just at present,--at any rate."
"Upon my word it would be very nice;--and then perhaps some day you'dbe the Duchess."
"Glencora, don't talk such nonsense."
"Those are the speculations which people make. Only I should spiteyou by killing myself, so that he might marry again."
"How can you say such horrid things?"
"I think I shall,--some day. What right have I to stand in his way?He spoke to me the other day about Jeffrey's altered position, and Iknew what he meant;--or rather what he didn't mean to say, but whathe thought. But I shan't kill myself."
"I should think not."
"I only know one other way," said Lady Glencora.
"You are thinking of things which should never be in your thoughts,"said Alice vehemently. "Have you no trust in God's providence? Cannotyou accept what has been done for you?"
Mr. Bott had gone away, much to Lady Glencora's delight, but hadunfortunately come back again. On his return Alice heard more of thefeud between the Duchess and Mrs. Conway Sparkes. "I did not tellyou," said Lady Glencora to her friend;--"I did not tell you beforehe went that I was right about his tale-bearing."
"And did he bear tales?"
"Yes; I did get the scolding, and I know very well that it camethrough him, though Mr. Palliser did not say so. But he told me thatthe Duchess had felt herself hurt by that other woman's way oftalking."
"But it was not your fault."
"No; that's what I said. It was he who desired me to ask Mrs. ConwaySparkes to come here. I didn't want her. She goes everywhere, and itis thought a catch to get her; but if she had been drowned in the RedSea I shouldn't have minded. When I told him that, he said it wasnonsense,--which of course it was; and then he said I ought to makeher hold her tongue. Of course I said I couldn't. Mrs. Conway Sparkeswouldn't care for me. If she quizzed me, myself, I told him thatI could take care of myself, though she were ten times Mrs. ConwaySparkes, and had written finer poetry than Tennyson."
"It is fine;--some of it," said Alice.
"Oh, I dare say! I know a great deal of it by heart, only I wouldn'tgive her the pleasure of supposing that I had ever thought so muchabout her poetry. And then I told him that I couldn't take care ofthe Duchess,--and he told me that I was a child."
"He only meant that in love."
"I am a child; I know that. Why didn't he marry some strong-minded,ferocious woman that could keep his house in order, and frown Mrs.Sparkes out of her impudence? It wasn't my fault."
"You didn't tell him that."
"But I did. Then he kissed me, and said it was all right, and told methat I should grow older. 'And Mrs. Sparkes will grow more impudent,'I said, 'and the Duchess more silly.' And after that I went away. Nowthis horrid Mr. Bott has come back again, and only that it would bemean in me to condescend so far, I would punish him. He grins andsmiles at me, and rubs his big hands more than ever, because he feelsthat he has behaved badly. Is it not horrid to have to live in thehouse with such people?"
"I don't think you need mind him much."
"Yes; but I am the mistress here, and am told that I am to entertainthe people. Fancy entertaining the Duchess of St. Bungay and Mr. Bott!"
Alice had now become so intimate with Lady Glencora that she did notscruple to read her wise lectures,--telling her that she allowedherself to think too much of little things,--and too much also ofsome big things. "As regards Mr. Bott," said Alice, "I think youshould bear it as though there were no such person."
"But that would be pretence,--especially to you."
"No; it would not be pretence; it would be the reticence which allwomen should practise,--and you, in your position, more almost thanany other woman." Then Lady Glencora pouted, told Alice that it wasa pity she had not married Mr. Palliser, and left her.
That evening,--the evening of Mr. Bott's return to Matching, thatgentleman found a place near to Alice in the drawing-room. He hadoften come up to her, rubbing his hands together, and saying littlewords, as though there was some reason from their positions that theytwo should be friends. Alice had perceived this, and had endeavouredwith all her force to shake him off; but he was a man, who if heunderstood a hint, never took it. A cold shoulder was nothing tohim, if he wanted to gain the person who showed it him. His codeof perseverance taught him that it was a virtue to overcome coldshoulders. The man or woman who received his first overtures withgrace would probably be one on whom it would be better that he shouldlook down and waste no further time; whereas he or she who couldafford to treat him with disdain would no doubt be worth gaining.Such men as Mr. Bott are ever gracious to cold shoulders. The colderthe shoulders, the more gracious are the Mr. Botts.
"What a delightful person is our dear friend, Lady Glencora!" saidMr. Bott, having caught Alice in a position from which she could notreadily escape.
Alice had half a mind to differ, or to make any remark that mightrid her from Mr. Bott. But she did not dare to say a word that mightseem to have been said playfully. "Yes, indeed," she replied. "Howvery cold it is to-night!" She was angry with herself for her ownstupidity as soon as the phrase was out of her mouth, and then shealmost laughed as she thought of the Duchess and the hot-water pipesat Longroyston.
"Yes, it is cold. You and her ladyship are great friends, I believe,Miss Vavasor."
"She is my cousin," said Alice.
"Ah! yes; that is so pleasant. I have reason to know that Mr. Palliseris very much gratified that you should be so much with her."
This was unbearable. Alice could not quite assume sufficient courageto get up from her chair and walk away from him, and yet she feltthat she must escape further conversation. "I don't know that I amvery much with her, and if I were I can't think it would make anydifference to Mr. Palliser."
But Mr. Bott was not a man to be put down when he had a purpose inhand. "I can assure you that those are his sentiments. Of course wea
ll know that dear Lady Glencora is young. She is very young."
"Mr. Bott, I really would rather not talk about my cousin."
"But, dear Miss Vavasor;--when we both have her welfare in view--?"
"I haven't her welfare in view, Mr. Bott; not in the least. There isno reason why I should. You must excuse me if I say I cannot talkabout her welfare with a perfect stranger." Then she did get up,and went away from the Member of Parliament, leaving him ratherastonished at her audacity. But he was a constant man, and his innerresolve was simply to the effect that he would try it again.
I wonder whether Jeffrey Palliser did think much of the differencebetween his present position and that which would have been his hadLady Glencora been the happy possessor of a cradle up-stairs with aboy in it. I suppose he must have done so. It is hardly possible thatany man should not be alive to the importance of such a chance. Hisown present position was one of the most unfortunate which can fallto the lot of a man. His father, the Duke's youngest brother, hadleft him about six hundred a year, and had left him also a tastefor living with people of six thousand. The propriety of earninghis bread had never been put before him. His father had been inParliament, and had been the most favoured son of the old Duke, whofor some years before his death had never spoken to him who nowreigned over the house of the Pallisers. Jeffrey's father had beenbrought up at Matching Priory as scions of ducal houses are broughtup, and on the old man's death had been possessed of means sufficientto go on in the same path, though with difficulty. His brother haddone something for him, and at various times he had held some placenear the throne. But on his death, when the property left behind himwas divided between his son and three daughters, Jeffrey Palliserbecame possessed of the income above stated. Of course he could liveon it,--and as during the winter months of the year a home was foundfor him free of cost, he could keep hunters, and live as rich menlive. But he was a poor, embarrassed man, without prospects,--untilthis fine ducal prospect became opened to him by the want of thatcradle at Matching Priory.
But the prospect was no doubt very distant. Lady Glencora might yethave as many sons as Hecuba. Or she might die, and some other morefortunate lady might become the mother of his cousin's heir. Or theDuke might marry and have a son. And, moreover, his cousin was onlyone year older than himself, and the great prize, if it came his way,might not come for forty years as yet. Nevertheless his hand mightnow be acceptable in quarters where it would certainly be rejectedhad Lady Glencora possessed that cradle up-stairs. We cannot butsuppose that he must have made some calculations of this nature.
"It is a pity you should do nothing all your life," his cousinPlantagenet said to him one morning just at this time. Jeffrey hadsought the interview in his cousin's room, and I fear had done sowith some slight request for ready money.
"What am I to do?" said Jeffrey.
"At any rate you might marry."
"Oh, yes;--I could marry. There's no man so poor but what he can dothat. The question would be how I might like the subsequentstarvation."
"I don't see that you need starve. Though your own fortune is small,it is something,--and many girls have fortunes of their own."
Jeffrey thought of Lady Glencora, but he made no allusion to her inspeech. "I don't think I'm very good at that kind of thing," he said."When the father and mother came to ask of my house and my home Ishould break down. I don't say it as praising myself;--indeed, quitethe reverse; but I fear I have not a mercenary tendency."
"That's nonsense."
"Oh, yes; quite so. I admit that."
"Men must have mercenary tendencies or they would not have bread. Theman who ploughs that he may live does so because he, luckily, has amercenary tendency."
"Just so. But you see I am less lucky than the ploughman."
"There is no vulgar error so vulgar,--that is to say, common orerroneous, as that by which men have been taught to say thatmercenary tendencies are bad. A desire for wealth is the sourceof all progress. Civilization comes from what men call greed. Letyour mercenary tendencies be combined with honesty and they cannottake you astray." This the future Chancellor of the Exchequer saidwith much of that air and tone of wisdom which a Chancellor of theExchequer ought to possess.
"But I haven't got any such tendencies," said Jeffrey.
"Would you like to occupy a farm in Scotland?" said PlantagenetPalliser.
"And pay rent?"
"You would have to pay rent of course."
"Thank you, no. It would be dishonest, as I know I should never payit."
"You are too old, I fear, for the public service."
"You mean a desk in the Treasury,--with a hundred a year. Yes; Ithink I am too old."
"But have you no plan of your own?"
"Not much of one. Sometimes I have thought I would go to NewZealand."
"You would have to be a farmer there."
"No;--I shouldn't do that. I should get up an opposition to theGovernment and that sort of thing, and then they would buy me off andgive me a place."
"That does very well here, Jeffrey, if a man can get into Parliamentand has capital enough to wait; but I don't think it would do outthere. Would you like to go into Parliament?"
"What; here? Of course I should. Only I should be sure to getterribly into debt. I don't owe very much, now,--not to speakof,--except what I owe you."
"You owe nothing to me," said Plantagenet, with some little touch ofmagniloquence in his tone. "No; don't speak of it. I have no brother,and between you and me it means nothing. You see, Jeffrey, it maybe that I shall have to look to you as my--my--my heir, in short."Hereupon Jeffrey muttered something as to the small probability ofsuch necessity, and as to the great remoteness of any result even ifit were so.
"That's all true," said the elder heir of the Pallisers, "butstill--. In short, I wish you would do something. Do you think aboutit; and then some day speak to me again."
Jeffrey, as he left his cousin with a cheque for L500 in hiswaist-coat pocket, thought that the interview which had at onetime taken important dimensions, had not been concluded altogethersatisfactorily. A seat in Parliament! Yes, indeed! If his cousinwould so far use his political, monetary, or ducal interest as todo that for him;--as to give him something of the status properlybelonging to the younger son of the House, then indeed life wouldhave some charms for him! But as for the farm in Scotland, or a deskat an office in London,--his own New Zealand plan would be betterthan those. And then as he went along of course he bethought himselfthat it might be his lot yet to die, and at least to be buried, inthe purple, as a Duke of Omnium. If so, certainly it would be hisduty to prepare another heir, and leave a duke behind him,--if itwere possible.
"Are you going to ride with us after lunch?" said Lady Glencora tohim as he strolled into the drawing-room.
"No," said Jeffrey; "I'm going to study."
"To do what?" said Lady Glencora.
"To study;--or rather I shall spend to-day in sitting down andconsidering what I will study. My cousin has just been telling methat I ought to do something."
"So you ought," said Iphigenia energetically from her writing-desk.
"But he didn't seem to have any clear opinion what it ought to be.You see there can't be two Chancellors of the Exchequer at the sametime. Mrs. Sparkes, what ought a young man like me to set aboutdoing?"
"Go into Parliament, I should say," said Mrs. Sparkes.
"Ah, yes; exactly. He had some notion of that kind, too, but hedidn't name any particular place. I think I'll try the City ofLondon. They've four there, and of course the chance of getting inwould thereby be doubled."
"I thought that commercial men were generally preferred in the City,"said the Duchess, taking a strong and good-natured interest in thematter.
"Mr. Palliser means to make a fortune in trade as a preliminary," saidMrs. Sparkes.
"I don't think he meant anything of the kind," said the Duchess.
"At any rate I have got to do something, so I can't go and ride,"said Jeffrey.
> "And you ought to do something," said Iphigenia from her desk.
Twice during this little conversation Lady Glencora had looked up,catching Alice's eye, and Alice had well known what she had meant."You see," the glance had said, "Plantagenet is beginning to take aninterest in his cousin, and you know why. The man who is to be thefather of the future dukes must not be allowed to fritter away histime in obscurity. Had I that cradle up-stairs Jeffrey might be asidle as he pleased." Alice understood it well.
Of course Jeffrey did join the riding party. "What is a man like meto do who wants to do something?" he said to Alice. Alice was quiteaware that Lady Glencora had contrived some little scheme that Mr.Palliser should be riding next to her. She liked Mr. Palliser, andtherefore had no objection but she declared to herself that hercousin was a goose for her pains.
"Mrs. Sparkes says you ought to go into Parliament."
"Yes;--and the dear Duchess would perhaps suggest a house in BelgraveSquare. I want to hear your advice now."
"I can only say ditto to Miss Palliser."
"What! Iphy? About procrastination? But you see the more of my timehe steals the better it is for me."
"That's the evil you have got to cure."
"My cousin Plantagenet suggested--marriage."
"A very good thing too, I'm sure," said Alice; "only it dependssomething on the sort of wife you get."
"You mean, of course, how much money she has."
"Not altogether."
"Looking at it from my cousin's point of view, I suppose that it isthe only important point. Who are there coming up this year,--in theway of heiresses?"
"Upon my word I don't know. In the first place, how much money makesan heiress?"
"For such a fellow as me, I suppose ten thousand pounds ought to do."
"That's not much," said Alice, who had exactly that amount of herown.
"No--; perhaps that's too moderate. But the lower one went in themoney speculation, the greater would be the number to choose from,and the better the chance of getting something decent in the womanherself. I have something of my own,--not much you know; so withthe lady's ten thousand pounds we might be able to live,--in somesecond-rate French town perhaps."
"But I don't see what you would gain by that."
"My people here would have got rid of me. That seems to be the greatthing. If you hear of any girl with about that sum, moderatelygood-looking, not too young so that she might know something of theworld, decently born, and able to read and write, perhaps you willbear me in mind."
"Yes, I will," said Alice, who was quite aware that he had made anaccurate picture of her own position. "When I meet such a one, I willsend for you at once."
"You know no such person now?"
"Well, no; not just at present."
"I declare I don't think he could do anything better," her cousinsaid to her that night. Lady Glencora was now in the habit of havingAlice with her in what she called her dressing-room every evening,and then they would sit till the small hours came upon them. Mr.Palliser always burnt the midnight oil and came to bed with the owls.They would often talk of him and his prospects till Alice had perhapsinspired his wife with more of interest in him and them than she hadbefore felt. And Alice had managed generally to drive her friend awayfrom those topics which were so dangerous,--those allusions to herchildlessness, and those hints that Burgo Fitzgerald was still in herthoughts. And sometimes, of course, they had spoken of Alice's ownprospects, till she got into a way of telling her cousin freely allthat she felt. On such occasions Lady Glencora would always tell herthat she had been right,--if she did not love the man. "Though yourfinger were put out for the ring," said Lady Glencora on one suchoccasion, "you should go back, if you did not love him."
"But I did love him," said Alice.
"Then I don't understand it," said Lady Glencora; and, in truth,close as was their intimacy, they did not perfectly understand eachother.
But on this occasion they were speaking of Jeffrey Palliser. "Ideclare I don't think he could do any better," said Lady Glencora.
"If you talk such nonsense, I will not stay," said Alice.
"But why should it be nonsense? You would be very comfortable withyour joint incomes. He is one of the best fellows in the world. It isclear that he likes you; and then we should be so near to each other.I am sure Mr. Palliser would do something for him if he married,--andespecially if I asked him."
"I only know of two things against it."
"And what are they?"
"That he would not take me for his wife, and that I would not takehim for my husband."
"Why not? What do you dislike in him?"
"I don't dislike him at all. I like him very much indeed. But onecan't marry all the people one likes."
"But what reason is there why you shouldn't marry him?"
"This chiefly," said Alice, after a pause; "that I have justseparated myself from a man whom I certainly did love truly, andthat I cannot transfer my affections quite so quickly as that."
As soon as the words were out of her mouth she knew that they shouldnot have been spoken. It was exactly what Glencora had done. Shehad loved a man and had separated herself from him and had marriedanother all within a month or two. Lady Glencora first became red asfire over her whole face and shoulders, and Alice afterwards did thesame as she looked up, as though searching in her cousin's eyes forpardon.
"It is an unmaidenly thing to do, certainly," said Lady Glencora veryslowly, and in her lowest voice. "Nay, it is unwomanly; but one maybe driven. One may be so driven that all gentleness of womanhood isdriven out of one."
"Oh, Glencora!"
"I did not propose that you should do it as a sudden thing."
"Glencora!"
"I did do it suddenly. I know it. I did it like a beast that isdriven as its owner chooses. I know it. I was a beast. Oh, Alice, ifyou know how I hate myself!"
"But I love you with all my heart," said Alice. "Glencora, I havelearned to love you so dearly!"
"Then you are the only being that does. He can't love me. How is itpossible? You,--and perhaps another."
"There are many who love you. He loves you. Mr. Palliser loves you."
"It is impossible. I have never said a word to him that could makehim love me. I have never done a thing for him that can make him loveme. The mother of his child he might have loved, because of that. Whyshould he love me? We were told to marry each other and did it. Whencould he have learned to love me? But, Alice, he requires no loving,either to take it or to give it. I wish it were so with me."
Alice said what she could to comfort her, but her words were but oflittle avail as regarded those marriage sorrows.
"Forgive you!" at last Glencora said. "What have I to forgive? Youdon't suppose I do not know it all, and think of it all without thechance of some stray word like that! Forgive you! I am so gratefulthat you love me! Some one's love I must have found,--or I could nothave remained here."
Can You Forgive Her? Page 27
