CHAPTER XVII. On the Scent
Young Harry Warrington's act of revolt came so suddenly upon Madamede Bernstein, that she had no other way of replying to it, than by theprompt outbreak of anger with which we left her in the last chapter. Shedarted two fierce glances at Lady Fanny and her mother as she quittedthe room. Lady Maria over her tambour-frame escaped without the leastnotice, and scarcely lifted up her head from her embroidery, to watchthe aunt retreating, or the looks which mamma-in-law and sister threw atone another.
"So, in spite of all, you have, madam?" the maternal looks seemed tosay.
"Have what?" asked Lady Fanny's eyes. But what good in looking innocent?She looked puzzled. She did not look one-tenth part as innocent asMaria. Had she been guilty, she would have looked not guilty much morecleverly; and would have taken care to study and compose a face so as tobe ready to suit the plea. Whatever was the expression of Fanny's eyes,mamma glared on her as if she would have liked to tear them out.
But Lady Castlewood could not operate upon the said eyes then and there,like the barbarous monsters in the stage-direction in King Lear. Whenher ladyship was going to tear out her daughter's eyes, she would retiresmiling, with an arm round her dear child's waist, and then gouge her inprivate.
"So you don't fancy going with the old lady to Tunbridge Wells?" wasall she said to Cousin Warrington, wearing at the same time a perfectlywell-bred simper on her face.
"And small blame to our cousin!" interposed my lord. (The face over thetambour-frame looked up for one instant.) "A young fellow must not haveit all idling and holiday. Let him mix up something useful with hispleasures, and go to the fiddles and pump-rooms at Tunbridge or the Bathlater. Mr. Warrington has to conduct a great estate in America: let himsee how ours in England are carried on. Will hath shown him the kenneland the stables; and the games in vogue, which I think, cousin, youseem to play as well as your teachers. After harvest we will show hima little English fowling and shooting: in winter we will take himout a-hunting. Though there has been a coolness between us and ouraunt-kinswoman in Virginia, yet we are of the same blood. Ere wesend our cousin back to his mother, let us show him what an Englishgentleman's life at home is. I should like to read with him as well assport with him, and that is why I have been pressing him of late to stayand bear me company."
My lord spoke with such perfect frankness that his mother-in-law andhalf-brother and sister could not help wondering what his meaningcould be. The three last-named persons often held little conspiraciestogether, and caballed or grumbled against the head of the house. Whenhe adopted that frank tone, there was no fathoming his meaning: often itwould not be discovered until months had passed. He did not say, "Thisis true," but, "I mean that this statement should be accepted andbelieved in my family." It was then a thing convenue, that my LordCastlewood had a laudable desire to cultivate the domestic affections,and to educate, amuse, and improve his young relative; and that he hadtaken a great fancy to the lad, and wished that Harry should stay forsome time near his lordship.
"What is Castlewood's game now?" asked William of his mother and sisteras they disappeared into the corridors. "Stop! By George, I have it!"
"What, William?"
"He intends to get him to play, and to win the Virginia estate back fromhim. That's what it is!"
"But the lad has not got the Virginia estate to pay, if he loses,"remarks mamma.
"If my brother has not some scheme in view, may I be----."
"Hush! Of course he has a scheme in view. But what is it?"
"He can't mean Maria--Maria is as old as Harry's mother," muses Mr.William.
"Pooh! with her old face and sandy hair and freckled skin! Impossible!"cries Lady Fanny, with somewhat of a sigh.
"Of course, your ladyship had a fancy for the Iroquois, too!" criedmamma.
"I trust I know my station and duty better, madam! If I had liked him,that is no reason why I should marry him. Your ladyship hath taught meas much as that."
"My Lady Fanny!"
"I am sure you married our papa without liking him. You have told me soa thousand times!"
"And if you did not love our father before marriage, you certainly didnot fall in love with him afterwards," broke in Mr. William, with alaugh. "Fan and I remember how our honoured parents used to fight. Don'tus, Fan? And our brother Esmond kept the peace."
"Don't recall those dreadful low scenes, William!" cries mamma. "Whenyour father took too much drink, he was like a madman; and his conductshould be a warning to you, sir, who are fond of the same horridpractice."
"I am sure, madam, you were not much the happier for marrying the manyou did not like, and your ladyship's title hath brought very littlealong with it," whimpered out Lady Fanny. "What is the use of a coronetwith the jointure of a tradesman's wife?--how many of them are richerthan we are? There is come lately to live in our Square, at Kensington,a grocer's widow from London Bridge, whose daughters have three gownswhere I have one; and who, though they are waited on but by a man and acouple of maids, I know eat and drink a thousand times better than wedo with our scraps of cold meat on our plate, and our great flaunting,trapesing, impudent, lazy lacqueys!"
"He! he! glad I dine at the palace, and not at home!" said Mr. Will.(Mr. Will, through his aunt's interest with Count Puffendorff, Groomof the Royal {and Serene Electoral} Powder-Closet, had one of the manysmall places at Court, that of Deputy Powder.)
"Why should I not be happy without any title except my own?" continuedLady Frances. "Many people are. I dare say they are even happy inAmerica."
"Yes!--with a mother-in-law who is a perfect Turk and Tartar, for all Ihear--with Indian war-whoops howling all around you and with a dangerof losing your scalp, or of being eat up by a wild beast every time youwent to church."
"I wouldn't go to church," said Lady Fanny.
"You'd go with anybody who asked you, Fan!" roared out Mr. Will: "andso would old Maria, and so would any woman, that's the fact." And Willlaughed at his own wit.
"Pray, good folks, what is all your merriment about?" here asked MadameBernstein, peeping in on her relatives from the tapestried door whichled into the gallery where their conversation was held.
Will told her that his mother and sister had been having a fight (whichwas not a novelty, as Madame Bernstein knew), because Fanny wanted tomarry their cousin, the wild Indian, and my lady Countess would not lether. Fanny protested against this statement. Since the very first daywhen her mother had told her not to speak to the young gentleman, shehad scarcely exchanged two words with him. She knew her station better.She did not want to be scalped by wild Indians, or eat up by bears.
Madame de Bernstein looked puzzled. "If he is not staying for you, forwhom is he staying?" she asked. "At the houses to which he has beencarried, you have taken care not to show him a woman that is not afright or in the nursery; and I think the boy is too proud to fall inlove with a dairymaid, Will."
"Humph! That is a matter of taste, ma'am," says Mr. William, with ashrug of his shoulders.
"Of Mr. William Esmond's taste, as you say; but not of yonder boy's. TheEsmonds of his grandfather's nurture, sir, would not go a-courting inthe kitchen."
"Well, ma'am, every man to his taste, I say again. A fellow might gofarther and fare worse than my brother's servants'-hall, and besidesFan, there's only the maids or old Maria to choose from."
"Maria! Impossible!" And yet, as she spoke the very words, a suddenthought crossed Madame Bernstein's mind, that this elderly Calypso mighthave captivated her young Telemachus. She called to mind half a dozeninstances in her own experience of young men who had been infatuated byold women. She remembered how frequent Harry Warrington's absenceshad been of late--absences which she attributed to his love for fieldsports. She remembered how often, when he was absent, Maria Esmondwas away too. Walks in cool avenues, whisperings in garden temples, orbehind clipt hedges, casual squeezes of the hand in twilight corridors,or sweet glances and ogles in meetings on the stairs,--a lively fancy,an intimate knowle
dge of the world, very likely a considerable personalexperience in early days, suggested all these possibilities andchances to Madame de Bernstein, just as she was saying that they wereimpossible.
"Impossible, ma'am! I don't know," Will continued. "My mother warned Fanoff him."
"Oh, your mother did warn Fanny off?"
"Certainly, my dear Baroness!"
"Didn't she? Didn't she pinch Fanny's arm black-and-blue? Didn't theyfight about it?"
"Nonsense, William! For shame, William!" cry both the implicated ladiesin a breath.
"And now, since we have heard how rich he is, perhaps it is sour grapes,that is all. And now, since he is warned off the young bird, perhaps heis hunting the old one, that's all. Impossible why impossible? You knowold Lady Suffolk, ma'am?"
"William, how can you speak about Lady Suffolk to your aunt?"
A grin passed over the countenance of the young gentleman. "BecauseLady Suffolk was a special favourite at Court? Well, other folks havesucceeded her."
"Sir!" cries Madame de Bernstein, who may have had her reasons to takeoffence.
"So they have, I say; or who, pray, is my Lady Yarmouth now? And didn'told Lady Suffolk go and fall in love with George Berkeley, and marry himwhen she was ever so old? Nay, ma'am, if I remember right--and we heara deal of town-talk at our table--Harry Estridge went mad about yourladyship when you were somewhat rising twenty; and would have changedyour name a third time if you would but have let him."
This allusion to an adventure of her own later days, which was, indeed,pretty notorious to all the world, did not anger Madame de Bernstein,like Will's former hint about his aunt having been a favourite at Georgethe Second's Court; but, on the contrary, set her in good-humour.
"Au fait," she said, musing, as she played a pretty little hand on thetable, and no doubt thinking about mad young Harry Estridge; 'tis notimpossible, William, that old folks, and young folks, too, should playthe fool."
"But I can't understand a young fellow being in love with Maria,"continued Mr. William, "however he might be with you, ma'am. That's otershose, as our French tutor used to say. You remember the Count, ma'am;he! he!--and so does Maria!"
"William!"
"And I dare say the Count remembers the bastinado Castlewood had givento him. A confounded French dancing-master calling himself a count, anddaring to fall in love in our family! Whenever I want to make myselfuncommonly agreeable to old Maria, I just say a few words of parly vooto her. She knows what I mean."
"Have you abused her to your cousin, Harry Warrington?" asked Madame deBernstein.
"Well--I know she is always abusing me--and I have said my mind abouther," said Will.
"Oh, you idiot!" cried the old lady. "Who but a gaby ever spoke ill of awoman to her sweetheart? He will tell her everything, and they both willhate you."
"The very thing, ma'am!" cried Will, bursting into a great laugh. "Ihad a sort of a suspicion, you see, and two days ago, as we were ridingtogether, I told Harry Warrington a bit of my mind about Maria;--whyshouldn't I, I say? She is always abusing me, ain't she, Fan? And yourfavourite turned as red as my plush waistcoat--wondered how a gentlemancould malign his own flesh and blood, and, trembling all over with rage,said I was no true Esmond."
"Why didn't you chastise him, sir, as my lord did the dancing-master?"cried Lady Castlewood.
"Well, mother,--you see that at quarter-staff there's two sticks used,"replied Mr. William; "and my opinion is, that Harry Warrington can guardhis own head uncommonly well. Perhaps that is one of the reasons why Idid not offer to treat my cousin to a caning. And now you say so, ma'am,I know he has told Maria. She has been looking battle, murder, andsudden death at me ever since. All which shows----" and here he turnedto his aunt.
"All which shows what?"
"That I think we are on the right scent; and that we've found Maria--theold fox!" And the ingenuous youth here clapped his hand to his mouth,and gave a loud halloo.
How far had this pretty intrigue gone? now was the question. Mr. Willsaid, that at her age, Maria would be for conducting matters as rapidlyas possible, not having much time to lose. There was not a great deal oflove lost between Will and his half-sister.
"Who would sift the matter to the bottom? Scolding one party or theother was of no avail. Threats only serve to aggravate people in suchcases. I never was in danger but once, young people," said Madame deBernstein, "and I think that was because my poor mother contradicted me.If this boy is like others of his family, the more we oppose him, themore entete he will be; and we shall never get him out of his scrape."
"Faith, ma'am, suppose we leave him in it?" grumbled Will. "Old Mariaand I don't love each other too much, I grant you; but an English earl'sdaughter is good enough for an American tobacco-planter, when all issaid and done."
Here his mother and sister broke out. They would not hear of such aunion. To which Will answered, "You are like the dog in the manger. Youdon't want the man yourself, Fanny"
"I want him, indeed!" cries Lady Fanny, with a toss of her head.
"Then why grudge him to Maria? I think Castlewood wants her to havehim."
"Why grudge him to Maria, sir?" cried Madame de Bernstein, with greatenergy. "Do you remember who the poor boy is, and what your house owesto his family? His grandfather was the best friend your father ever had,and gave up this estate, this title, this very castle, in which youare conspiring against the friendless Virginian lad, that you and yoursmight profit by it. And the reward for all this kindness is, that youall but shut the door on the child when he knocks at it, and talk ofmarrying him to a silly elderly creature who might be his mother! Heshan't marry her."
"The very thing we were saying and thinking, my dear Baroness!"interposes Lady Castlewood. "Our part of the family is not eager aboutthe match, though my lord and Maria may be."
"You would like him for yourself, now that you hear he is rich--and maybe richer, young people, mind you that," cried Madam Beatrix, turningupon the other women.
"Mr. Warrington may be ever so rich, madam, but there is no need whyyour ladyship should perpetually remind us that we are poor," brokein Lady Castlewood, with some spirit. "At least there is very littledisparity in Fanny's age and Mr. Harry's; and you surely will be thelast to say that a lady of our name and family is not good enough forany gentleman born in Virginia or elsewhere."
"Let Fanny take an English gentleman, Countess, not an American. Withsuch a name and such a mother to help her, and with all her good looksand accomplishments, sure, she can't fail of finding a man worthy ofher. But from what I know about the daughters of this house, and what Iimagine about our young cousin, I am certain that no happy match couldbe made between them."
"What does my aunt know about me?" asked Lady Fanny, turning very red.
"Only your temper, my dear. You don't suppose that I believe all thetittle-tattle and scandal which one cannot help hearing in town? Butthe temper and early education are sufficient. Only fancy one of youcondemned to leave St. James's and the Mall, and live in a plantationsurrounded by savages! You would die of ennui, or worry your husband'slife out with your ill-humour. You are born, ladies, to ornamentcourts--not wigwams. Let this lad go back to his wilderness with a wifewho is suited to him."
The other two ladies declared in a breath that, for their parts, theydesired no better, and, after a few more words, went on their way, whileMadame de Bernstein, lifting up her tapestried door, retired into herown chamber. She saw all the scheme now; she admired the ways of women,calling a score of little circumstances back to mind. She wondered ather own blindness during the last few days, and that she should not haveperceived the rise and progress of this queer little intrigue. How farhad it gone? was now the question. Was Harry's passion of the seriousand tragical sort, or a mere fire of straw which a day or two would burnout? How deeply was he committed? She dreaded the strength of Harry'spassion, and the weakness of Maria's. A woman of her age is sodesperate, Madame Bernstein may have thought, that she will make anyefforts to secu
re a lover. Scandal, bah! She will retire and be aprincess in Virginia, and leave the folks in England to talk as muchscandal as they choose.
Is there always, then, one thing which women do not tell to one another,and about which they agree to deceive each other? Does the concealmentarise from deceit or modesty? A man, as soon as he feels an inclinationfor one of the other sex, seeks for a friend of his own to whom he mayimpart the delightful intelligence. A woman (with more or less skill)buries her secret away from her kind. For days and weeks past, had notthis old Maria made fools of the whole house,--Maria, the butt of thefamily?
I forbear to go into too curious inquiries regarding the Lady Maria'santecedents. I have my own opinion about Madame Bernstein's. A hundredyears ago people of the great world were not so straitlaced as theyare now, when everybody is good, pure, moral, modest; when there is noskeleton in anybody's closet; when there is no scheming; no slurringover old stories; when no girl tries to sell herself for wealth, and nomother abets her. Suppose my Lady Maria tries to make her little game,wherein is her ladyship's great eccentricity?
On these points no doubt the Baroness de Bernstein thought, as shecommuned with herself in her private apartment.
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