The Virginians

by William Makepeace Thackeray

  CHAPTER LVI. Ariadne

  My Lord Castlewood had a house in Kensington Square spacious enough toaccommodate the several members of his noble family, and convenient fortheir service at the palace hard by, when his Majesty dwelt there. Herladyship had her evenings, and gave her card-parties here for such aswould come; but Kensington was a long way from London a hundred yearssince, and George Selwyn said he for one was afraid to go, for fearof being robbed of a night,--whether by footpads with crape over theirfaces, or by ladies in rouge at the quadrille-table, we have no means ofsaying. About noon on the day after Harry had made his reappearance atWhite's, it chanced that all his virtuous kinsfolks partook of breakfasttogether, even Mr. Will being present, who was to go into waiting in theafternoon.

  The ladies came first to their chocolate: them Mr. Will joined in hiscourt suit; finally, my lord appeared, languid, in his bedgown andnightcap, having not yet assumed his wig for the day. Here was newswhich Will had brought home from the Star and Garter last night, when hesupped in company with some men who had heard it at White's and seen itat Ranelagh!

  "Heard what? seen what?" asked the head of the house, taking up hisDaily Advertiser.

  "Ask Maria!" says Lady Fanny. My lord turns to his elder sister, whowears a face of portentous sadness, and looks as pale as a tablecloth.

  "'Tis one of Will's usual elegant and polite inventions," says Maria.

  "No," swore Will, with several of his oaths; "it was no invention ofhis. Tom Claypool of Norfolk saw 'em both at Ranelagh; and Jack Morriscame out of White's, where he heard the story from Harry Warrington'sown lips. Curse him, I'm glad of it!" roars Will, slapping the table."What do you think of your Fortunate Youth, your Virginian, whom yourlordship made so much of, turning out to be a second son?"

  "The elder brother not dead?" says my lord.

  "No more dead than you are. Never was. It's my belief that it was across between the two."

  "Mr. Warrington is incapable of such duplicity!" cries Maria.

  "I never encouraged the fellow, I am sure you will do me justice there,"says my lady. "Nor did Fanny: not we, indeed!"

  "Not we, indeed!" echoes my Lady Fanny.

  "The fellow is only a beggar, and, I dare say, has not paid for theclothes on his back," continues Will. "I'm glad of it, for, hang him, Ihate him!"

  "You don't regard him with favourable eyes; especially since he blackedyours, Will!" grins my lord. "So the poor fellow has found his brother,and lost his estate!" And here he turned towards his sister Maria, who,although she looked the picture of woe, must have suggested somethingludicrous to the humourist near whom she sate; for his lordship, havinggazed at her for a minute, burst into a shrill laugh, which caused thepoor lady's face to flush, and presently her eyes to pour over withtears. "It's a shame! it's a shame!" she sobbed out, and hid her facein her handkerchief. Maria's stepmother and sister looked at each other."We never quite understand your lordship's humour," the former ladyremarked, gravely.

  "I don't see there is the least reason why you should," said my lord,coolly. "Maria, my dear, pray excuse me if I have said--that is, doneanything, to hurt your feelings."

  "Done anything! You pillaged the poor lad in his prosperity, and laughat him in his ruin!" says Maria, rising from table, and glaring round atall her family.

  "Excuse me, my dear sister, I was not laughing at him," said my lord,gently.

  "Oh, never mind at what or whom else, my lord! You have taken from himall he had to lose. All the world points at you as the man who feeds onhis own flesh and blood. And now you have his all, you make merry overhis misfortune!" And away she rustled from the room, flinging looks ofdefiance at all the party there assembled.

  "Tell us what has happened, or what you have heard, Will, and mysister's grief will not interrupt us." And Will told, at great length,and with immense exultation at Harry's discomfiture, the story nowbuzzed through all London, of George Warrington's sudden apparition.Lord Castlewood was sorry for Harry: Harry was a good, brave lad, andhis kinsman liked him, as much as certain worldly folks like each other.To be sure he played Harry at cards, and took the advantage of themarket upon him; but why not? The peach which other men would certainlypluck, he might as well devour. Eh! if that were all my conscience hadto reproach me with, I need not be very uneasy! my lord thought. "Wheredoes Mr. Warrington live?"

  Will expressed himself ready to enter upon a state of reprobation if heknew or cared.

  "He shall be invited here, and treated with every respect," said mylord.

  "Including piquet, I suppose!" growls Will.

  "Or will you take him to the stables, and sell him one of your bargainsof horseflesh, Will?" asks Lord Castlewood. "You would have won of HarryWarrington fast enough, if you could; but you cheat so clumsily at yourgame that you got paid with a cudgel. I desire, once more, that everyattention may be paid to our cousin Warrington."

  "And that you are not to be disturbed, when you sit down to play, ofcourse, my lord!" cries Lady Castlewood.

  "Madam, I desire fair play, for Mr. Warrington, and for myself, andfor every member of this amiable family," retorted Lord Castlewood,fiercely.

  "Heaven help the poor gentleman if your lordship is going to be kind tohim," said the stepmother, with a curtsey; and there is no knowinghow far this family dispute might have been carried, had not, at thismoment, a phaeton driven up to the house, in which were seated the twoyoung Virginians.

  It was the carriage which our young Prodigal had purchased in the daysof his prosperity. He drove it still: George sate in it by his side;their negroes were behind them. Harry had been for meekly giving thewhip and reins to his brother, and ceding the whole property to him."What business has a poor devil like me with horses and carriages,Georgy?" Harry had humbly said. "Beyond the coat on my back, andthe purse my aunt gave me, I have nothing in the world. You takethe driving-seat, brother; it will ease my mind if you will take thedriving-seat." George laughingly said he did not know the way, and Harrydid; and that, as for the carriage, he would claim only a half of it,as he had already done with his brother's wardrobe. "But a bargain isa bargain; if I share thy coats, thou must divide my breeches' pocket,Harry; that is but fair dealing!" Again and again Harry swore therenever was such a brother on earth. How he rattled his horses over theroad! How pleased and proud he was to drive such a brother! They cameto Kensington in famous high spirits; and Gumbo's thunder upon LordCastlewood's door was worthy of the biggest footman in all St. James's.

  Only my Lady Castlewood and her daughter Lady Fanny were in the roominto which our young gentlemen were ushered. Will had no particularfancy to face Harry, my lord was not dressed, Maria had her reasonsfor being away, at least till her eyes were dried. When we drive up tofriends' houses nowadays in our coaches-and-six, when John carries upour noble names, when, finally, we enter the drawing-room with ourbest hat and best Sunday smile foremost, does it ever happen that weinterrupt a family row! that we come simpering and smiling in, andstepping over the delusive ashes of a still burning domestic heat? thatin the interval between the hall-door and the drawing-room, Mrs., Mr.,and the Misses Jones have grouped themselves in a family tableau;this girl artlessly arranging flowers in a vase, let us say; that onereclining over an illuminated work of devotion; mamma on the sofa, withthe butcher's and grocer's book pushed under the cushion, some elegantwork in her hand, and a pretty little foot pushed out advantageously;while honest Jones, far from saying, "Curse that Brown, he is alwayscalling here!" holds out a kindly hand, shows a pleased face, andexclaims, "What, Brown my boy, delighted to see you! Hope you've cometo lunch!" I say, does it ever happen to us to be made the victims ofdomestic artifices, the spectators of domestic comedies got up for ourspecial amusement? Oh, let us be thankful, not only for faces, butfor masks! not only for honest welcome, but for hypocrisy, which hidesunwelcome things from us! Whilst I am talking, for instance, in thiseasy, chatty way, what right have you, my good sir, to know what isreally passing in my mind? It may be that I am racked with g
out, orthat my eldest son has just sent me in a thousand pounds' worth ofcollege-bills, or that I am writhing under an attack of the Stoke PogisSentinel, which has just been sent me under cover, or that there is adreadfully scrappy dinner, the evident remains of a party to which Ididn't invite you, and yet I conceal my agony, I wear a merry smile; Isay, "What! come to take pot-luck with us, Brown my boy! Betsy! put aknife and fork for Mr. Brown. Eat! Welcome! Fall to! It's my best!" Isay that humbug which I am performing is beautiful self-denial--thathypocrisy is true virtue. Oh, if every man spoke his mind what anintolerable society ours would be to live in!

  As the young gentlemen are announced, Lady Castlewood advances towardsthem with perfect ease and good-humour. "We have heard, Harry," shesays, looking at the latter with a special friendliness, "of this mostextraordinary circumstance. My Lord Castlewood said at breakfast that heshould wait on you this very day, Mr. Warrington, and, cousin Harry, weintend not to love you any the less because you are poor."

  "We shall be able to show now that it is not for your acres that we likeyou, Harry!" says Lady Fanny, following her mamma's lead.

  "And I to whom the acres have fallen?" says Mr. George, with a smile anda bow.

  "Oh, cousin, we shall like you for being like Harry!" replies the archLady Fanny.

  Ah! who that has seen the world, has not admired that astonishing easewith which fine ladies drop you and pick you up again? Both the ladiesnow addressed themselves almost exclusively to the younger brother. Theywere quite civil to Mr. George: but with Mr. Harry they were fond, theywere softly familiar, they were gently kind, they were affectionatelyreproachful. Why had Harry not been for days and days to see them?

  "Better to have had a dish of tea and a game at piquet with them thanwith some other folks," says Lady Castlewood. "If we had won enoughto buy a paper of pins from you we should have been content; but younggentlemen don't know what is for their own good," says mamma.

  "Now you have no more money to play with, you can come and play withus, cousin!" cries fond Lady Fanny, lifting up a finger, "and so yourmisfortune will be good fortune to us."

  George was puzzled. This welcome of his brother was very different fromthat to which he had looked. All these compliments and attentions paidto the younger brother, though he was without a guinea! Perhaps thepeople were not so bad as they were painted? The Blackest of all Blacksis said not to be of quite so dark a complexion as some folks describehim.

  This affectionate conversation continued for some twenty minutes, at theend of which period my Lord Castlewood made his appearance, wig on head,and sword by side. He greeted both the young men with much politeness:one not more than the other. "If you were to come to us--and I, for one,cordially rejoice to see you--what a pity it is you did not come a fewmonths earlier! A certain evening at piquet would then most likely neverhave taken place. A younger son would have been more prudent."

  "Yes, indeed," said Harry.

  "Or a kinsman more compassionate. But I fear that love of play runs inthe blood of all of us. I have it from my father, and it has made me thepoorest peer in England. Those fair ladies whom you see before you arenot exempt. My poor brother Will is a martyr to it; and what I, for mypart, win on one day, I lose on the next. 'Tis shocking, positively, therage for play in England. All my poor cousin's bank-notes parted companyfrom me within twenty-four hours after I got them."

  "I have played, like other gentlemen, but never to hurt myself, andnever indeed caring much for the sport," remarked Mr. Warrington.

  "When we heard that my lord had played with Harry, we did so scold him,"cried the ladies.

  "But if it had not been I, thou knowest, cousin Warrington, some otherperson would have had thy money. 'Tis a poor consolation, but as suchHarry must please to take it, and be glad that friends won his money,who wish him well, not strangers, who cared nothing for him, and fleecedhim."

  "Eh! a tooth out is a tooth out, though it be your brother who pulls it,my lord!" said Mr. George, laughing. "Harry must bear the penalty of hisfaults, and pay his debts, like other men."

  "I am sure I have never said or thought otherwise. 'Tis not like anEnglishman to be sulky because he is beaten," says Harry.

  "Your hand, cousin! You speak like a man!" cries my lord, with delight.The ladies smiled to each other.

  "My sister, in Virginia, has known how to bring up her sons asgentlemen!" exclaims Lady Castlewood, enthusiastically.

  "I protest you must not be growing so amiable now you are poor, cousinHarry!" cries cousin Fanny. "Why, mamma, we did not know half his goodqualities when he was only Fortunate Youth and Prince of Virginia! Youare exactly like him, cousin George, but I vow you can't be as amiableas your brother!"

  "I am the Prince of Virginia, but I fear I am not the Fortunate Youth,"said George, gravely.

  Harry was beginning, "By Jove, he is the best----" when the noise of aharpsichord was heard from the upper room. The lad blushed: the ladiessmiled.

  "'Tis Maria, above," said Lady Castlewood. "Let some of us go up toher."

  The ladies rose, and made way towards the door; and Harry followedthem, blushing very much. George was about to join the party, but LordCastlewood checked him. "Nay, if all the ladies follow your brother"his lordship said, "let me at least have the benefit of your company andconversation. I long to hear the account of your captivity and rescue,cousin George!"

  "Oh, we must hear that too!" cried one of the ladies, lingering.

  "I am greedy, and should like it all by myself," said Lord Castlewood,looking at her very sternly; and followed the women to the door, andclosed it upon them with a low bow.

  "Your brother has no doubt acquainted you with the history of allthat has happened to him in this house, cousin George?" asked George'skinsman.

  "Yes, including the quarrel with Mr. Will and the engagement to my LadyMaria," replies George, with a bow. "I may be pardoned for saying thathe hath met with but ill fortune here, my lord."

  "Which no one can deplore more cordially than myself. My brother liveswith horse jockeys and trainers, and the wildest bloods of the town,and between us there is very little sympathy. We should not all livetogether, were we not so poor. This is the house which our grandmotheroccupied before she went to America and married Colonel Esmond. Muchof the furniture belonged to her." George looked round the wainscotedparlour with some interest. "Our house has not flourished in the lasttwenty years; though we had a promotion of rank a score of years since,owing to some interest we had at court, then. But the malady of play hasbeen the ruin of us all. I am a miserable victim to it: only tooproud to sell myself and title to a roturiere, as many noblemen, lessscrupulous, have done. Pride is my fault, my dear cousin. I remember howI was born!" And his lordship laid his hand on his shirt-frill, turnedout his toe, and looked his cousin nobly in the face.

  Young George Warrington's natural disposition was to believe everythingwhich everybody said to him. When once deceived, however, or undeceivedabout the character of a person, he became utterly incredulous, andhe saluted this fine speech of my lord's with a sardonical, inwardlaughter, preserving his gravity, however, and scarce allowing any ofhis scorn to appear in his words.

  "We have all our faults, my lord. That of play hath been condoned overand over again in gentlemen of our rank. Having heartily forgiven mybrother, surely I cannot presume to be your lordship's judge in thematter; and instead of playing and losing, I wish sincerely that you hadboth played and won!"

  "So do I, with all my heart!" says my lord with a sigh. "I augurwell for your goodness when you can speak in this way, and for yourexperience and knowledge of the world, too, cousin, of which you seem topossess a greater share than most young men of your age. Your poor Harryhath the best heart in the world; but I doubt whether his head be verystrong."

  "Not very strong, indeed. But he hath the art to make friends whereverhe goes, and in spite of all his imprudences most people love him."

  "I do--we all do, I'm sure! as if he were our brother!" cries my lord.
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br />   "He has often described in his letters his welcome at your lordship'shouse. My mother keeps them all, you may be sure. Harry's style is notvery learned, but his heart is so good, that to read him is better thanwit."

  "I may be mistaken, but I fancy his brother possesses a good heart and agood wit, too!" says my lord, obstinately gracious.

  "I am as Heaven made me, cousin; and perhaps some more experience andsorrow than has fallen to the lot of most young men."

  "This misfortune of your poor brother--I mean this piece of goodfortune, your sudden reappearance--has not quite left Harry withoutresources?" continued Lord Castlewood, very gently.

  "With nothing but what his mother can leave him, or I, at her death,can spare him. What is the usual portion here of a younger brother, mylord?"

  "Eh! a younger brother here is--you know--in fine, everybody knows whata younger brother is," said my lord, and shrugged his shoulders andlooked his guest in the face.

  The other went on: "We are the best of friends, but we are flesh andblood: and I don't pretend to do more for him than is usually done foryounger brothers. Why give him money? That he should squander it atcards or horse-racing? My lord, we have cards and jockeys in Virginia,too; and my poor Harry hath distinguished himself in his own countryalready, before he came to yours. He inherits the family failing fordissipation."

  "Poor fellow, poor fellow, I pity him!"

  "Our estate, you see, is great, but our income is small. We have littlemore money than that which we get from England for our tobacco--and verylittle of that too--for our tobacco comes back to us in the shape ofgoods, clothes, leather, groceries, ironmongery, nay, wine and beer forour people and ourselves. Harry may come back and share all these:there is a nag in the stable for him, a piece of venison on the table,a little ready money to keep his pocket warm, and a coat or two everyyear. This will go on whilst my mother lives, unless, which is far fromimprobable, he gets into some quarrel with Madam Esmond. Then, whilst Ilive he will have the run of the house and all it contains: then, if Idie leaving children, he will be less and less welcome. His future,my lord, is a dismal one, unless some strange piece of luck turn up onwhich we were fools to speculate. Henceforth he is doomed to dependence,and I know no worse lot than to be dependent on a self-willed woman likeour mother. The means he had to make himself respected at home hehath squandered away here. He has flung his patrimony to the dogs,and poverty and subserviency are now his only portion." Mr. Warringtondelivered this speech with considerable spirit and volubility, and hiscousin heard him respectfully.

  "You speak well, Mr. Warrington. Have you ever thought of public life?"said my lord.

  "Of course I have thought of public life like every man of mystation--every man, that is, who cares for something beyond a dice-boxor a stable," replies George. "I hope, my lord, to be able to take myown place, and my unlucky brother must content himself with his. This Isay advisedly, having heard from him of certain engagements which he hasformed, and which it would be misery to all parties were he to attemptto execute now."

  "Your logic is very strong," said my lord. "Shall we go up and see theladies? There is a picture above-stairs which your grandfather is saidto have executed. Before you go, my dear cousin, you will please to fixa day when our family may have the honour of receiving you. Castlewood,you know, is always your home when we are there. It is something likeyour Virginian Castlewood, cousin, from your account. We have beef,and mutton, and ale, and wood, in plenty; but money is woefully scarceamongst us."

  They ascended to the drawing-room, where, however, they found only oneof the ladies of the family. This was my Lady Maria, who came out of theembrasure of a window, where she and Harry Warrington had been engagedin talk.

  George made his best bow, Maria her lowest curtsey. "You are indeedwonderfully like your brother," she said, giving him her hand. "And fromwhat he says, cousin George, I think you are as good as he is."

  At the sight of her swollen eyes and tearful face George felt a pangof remorse. "Poor thing!" he thought. "Harry has been vaunting mygenerosity and virtue to her, and I have beer, playing the selfish elderbrother downstairs! How old she looks! How could he ever have a passionfor such a woman as that?" How? Because he did not see with your eyes,Mr. George. He saw rightly too now with his own, perhaps. I never knowwhether to pity or congratulate a man on coming to his senses.

  After the introduction a little talk took place, which for a while LadyMaria managed to carry on in an easy manner: but though ladies in thismatter of social hypocrisy are, I think, far more consummate performersthan men, after a sentence or two the poor lady broke out into a sob,and, motioning Harry away with her hand, fairly fled from the room.

  Harry was rushing forward, but stopped--checked by that sign. My lordsaid his poor sister was subject to these fits of nerves, and hadalready been ill that morning. After this event our young gentlementhought it was needless to prolong their visit. Lord Castlewood followedthem downstairs, accompanied them to the door, admired their nags in thephaeton, and waved them a friendly farewell.

  "And so we have been coaxing and cuddling in the window, and we partgood friends, Harry? Is it not so?" says George to his charioteer.

  "Oh, she is a good woman!" cries Harry, lashing the horses. "I knowyou'll think so when you come to know her."

  "When you take her home to Virginia? A pretty welcome our mother willgive her. She will never forgive me for not breaking the match off, noryou for making it."

  "I can't help it, George! Don't you be popping your ugly head so closeto my ears, Gumbo! After what has passed between us, I am bound inhonour to stand by her. If she sees no objection, I must find none. Itold her all. I told her that Madam would be very rusty at first; butthat she was very fond of me, and must end by relenting. And when youcome to the property, I told her that I knew my dearest George so well,that I might count upon sharing with him."

  "The deuce you did! Let me tell you, my dear, that I have been tellingmy Lord Castlewood quite a different story. That as an elder brother Iintend to have all my rights--there, don't flog that near horse so--andthat you can but look forward to poverty and dependence."

  "What! You won't help me?" cries Harry, turning quite pale.

  "George, I don't believe it, though I hear it out of your own mouth!There was a minute's pause after this outbreak, during which Harry didnot even look at his brother, but sate, gazing blindly before him, thepicture of grief and gloom. He was driving so near to a road-post thatthe carriage might have been upset but for George's pulling the rein.

  "You had better take the reins, sir," said Harry. "I told you you hadbetter take them."

  "Did you ever know me fail you, Harry?" George asked.

  "No," said the other, "not till now"--the tears were rolling down hischeeks as he spoke.

  "My dear, I think one day you will say I have done my duty."

  "What have you done? asked Harry.

  "I have said you were a younger brother--that you have spent all yourpatrimony, and that your portion at home must be very slender. Is it nottrue?"

  "Yes, but I would not have believed it, if ten thousand men had toldme," said Harry. "Whatever happened to me, I thought I could trust you,George Warrington." And in this frame of mind Harry remained during therest of the drive.

  Their dinner was served soon after their return to their lodgings, ofwhich Harry scarce ate any, though he drank freely of the wine beforehim.

  "That wine is a bad consoler in trouble, Harry," his brother remarked.

  "I have no other, sir," said Harry, grimly; and having drunk glass afterglass in silence, he presently seized his hat, and left the room.

  He did not return for three hours. George, in much anxiety about hisbrother, had not left home meanwhile, but read his book, and smoked thepipe of patience. "It was shabby to say I would not aid him, and,God help me, it was not true. I won't leave him, though he marries ablackamoor," thought George "have I not done him harm enough already, bycoming to life again? Where has he gon
e; has he gone to play?"

  "Good God! what has happened to thee?" cried George Warrington,presently, when his brother came in, looking ghastly pale.

  He came up and took his brother's hand. "I can take it now, Georgy,"he said. "Perhaps what you did was right, though. I for one will neverbelieve that you would throw your brother off in distress. I'll tell youwhat. At dinner, I thought suddenly, I'll go back to her and speak toher. I'll say to her, 'Maria, poor as I am, your conduct to me has beenso noble, that, by heaven! I am yours to take or to leave. If you willhave me, here I am: I will enlist: I will work: I will try and make alivelihood for myself somehow, and my bro----my relations will relent,and give us enough to live on.' That's what I determined to tell her;and I did, George. I ran all the way to Kensington in the rain--look, Iam splashed from head to foot,--and found them all at dinner, all exceptWill, that is. I spoke out that very moment to them all, sitting roundthe table, over their wine. 'Maria,' says I, 'a poor fellow wants toredeem his promise which he made when he fancied he was rich. Will youtake him?' I found I had plenty of words, and didn't hem and stutter asI'm doing now. I spoke ever so long, and I ended by saying I would do mybest and my duty by her, so help me God!

  "When I had done, she came up to me quite kind. She took my hand, andkissed it before the rest. 'My dearest, best Harry!' she said (thosewere her words, I don't want otherwise to be praising myself), 'you area noble heart, and I thank you with all mine. But, my dear, I have longseen it was only duty, and a foolish promise made by a young man to anold woman, that has held you to your engagement. To keep it would makeyou miserable, my dear. I absolve you from it, thanking you with all myheart for your fidelity, and blessing and loving my dear cousin always.'And she came up and kissed me before them all, and went out of theroom quite stately, and without a single tear. They were all crying,especially my lord, who was sobbing quite loud. I didn't think he had somuch feeling. And she, George? Oh, isn't she a noble creature?"

  "Here's her health!" cries George, filling one of the glasses that stillstood before him.

  "Hip, hip, huzzay!" says Harry. He was wild with delight at being free.