by George Eliot
CHAPTER VIII.
"Oh, rescue her! I am her brother now, And you her father. Every gentle maid Should have a guardian in each gentleman."
It was wonderful to Sir James Chettam how well he continued to likegoing to the Grange after he had once encountered the difficulty ofseeing Dorothea for the first time in the light of a woman who wasengaged to another man. Of course the forked lightning seemed to passthrough him when he first approached her, and he remained consciousthroughout the interview of hiding uneasiness; but, good as he was, itmust be owned that his uneasiness was less than it would have been ifhe had thought his rival a brilliant and desirable match. He had nosense of being eclipsed by Mr. Casaubon; he was only shocked thatDorothea was under a melancholy illusion, and his mortification lostsome of its bitterness by being mingled with compassion.
Nevertheless, while Sir James said to himself that he had completelyresigned her, since with the perversity of a Desdemona she had notaffected a proposed match that was clearly suitable and according tonature; he could not yet be quite passive under the idea of herengagement to Mr. Casaubon. On the day when he first saw them togetherin the light of his present knowledge, it seemed to him that he had nottaken the affair seriously enough. Brooke was really culpable; heought to have hindered it. Who could speak to him? Something might bedone perhaps even now, at least to defer the marriage. On his way homehe turned into the Rectory and asked for Mr. Cadwallader. Happily, theRector was at home, and his visitor was shown into the study, where allthe fishing tackle hung. But he himself was in a little roomadjoining, at work with his turning apparatus, and he called to thebaronet to join him there. The two were better friends than any otherlandholder and clergyman in the county--a significant fact which was inagreement with the amiable expression of their faces.
Mr. Cadwallader was a large man, with full lips and a sweet smile; veryplain and rough in his exterior, but with that solid imperturbable easeand good-humor which is infectious, and like great grassy hills in thesunshine, quiets even an irritated egoism, and makes it rather ashamedof itself. "Well, how are you?" he said, showing a hand not quite fitto be grasped. "Sorry I missed you before. Is there anythingparticular? You look vexed."
Sir James's brow had a little crease in it, a little depression of theeyebrow, which he seemed purposely to exaggerate as he answered.
"It is only this conduct of Brooke's. I really think somebody shouldspeak to him."
"What? meaning to stand?" said Mr. Cadwallader, going on with thearrangement of the reels which he had just been turning. "I hardlythink he means it. But where's the harm, if he likes it? Any one whoobjects to Whiggery should be glad when the Whigs don't put up thestrongest fellow. They won't overturn the Constitution with our friendBrooke's head for a battering ram."
"Oh, I don't mean that," said Sir James, who, after putting down hishat and throwing himself into a chair, had begun to nurse his leg andexamine the sole of his boot with much bitterness. "I mean thismarriage. I mean his letting that blooming young girl marry Casaubon."
"What is the matter with Casaubon? I see no harm in him--if the girllikes him."
"She is too young to know what she likes. Her guardian ought tointerfere. He ought not to allow the thing to be done in this headlongmanner. I wonder a man like you, Cadwallader--a man with daughters,can look at the affair with indifference: and with such a heart asyours! Do think seriously about it."
"I am not joking; I am as serious as possible," said the Rector, with aprovoking little inward laugh. "You are as bad as Elinor. She hasbeen wanting me to go and lecture Brooke; and I have reminded her thather friends had a very poor opinion of the match she made when shemarried me."
"But look at Casaubon," said Sir James, indignantly. "He must befifty, and I don't believe he could ever have been much more than theshadow of a man. Look at his legs!"
"Confound you handsome young fellows! you think of having it all yourown way in the world. You don't under stand women. They don't admireyou half so much as you admire yourselves. Elinor used to tell hersisters that she married me for my ugliness--it was so various andamusing that it had quite conquered her prudence."
"You! it was easy enough for a woman to love you. But this is noquestion of beauty. I don't _like_ Casaubon." This was Sir James'sstrongest way of implying that he thought ill of a man's character.
"Why? what do you know against him?" said the Rector laying down hisreels, and putting his thumbs into his armholes with an air ofattention.
Sir James paused. He did not usually find it easy to give his reasons:it seemed to him strange that people should not know them without beingtold, since he only felt what was reasonable. At last he said--
"Now, Cadwallader, has he got any heart?"
"Well, yes. I don't mean of the melting sort, but a sound kernel,_that_ you may be sure of. He is very good to his poor relations:pensions several of the women, and is educating a young fellow at agood deal of expense. Casaubon acts up to his sense of justice. Hismother's sister made a bad match--a Pole, I think--lost herself--at anyrate was disowned by her family. If it had not been for that, Casaubonwould not have had so much money by half. I believe he went himself tofind out his cousins, and see what he could do for them. Every manwould not ring so well as that, if you tried his metal. _You_ would,Chettam; but not every man."
"I don't know," said Sir James, coloring. "I am not so sure ofmyself." He paused a moment, and then added, "That was a right thingfor Casaubon to do. But a man may wish to do what is right, and yet bea sort of parchment code. A woman may not be happy with him. And Ithink when a girl is so young as Miss Brooke is, her friends ought tointerfere a little to hinder her from doing anything foolish. Youlaugh, because you fancy I have some feeling on my own account. Butupon my honor, it is not that. I should feel just the same if I wereMiss Brooke's brother or uncle."
"Well, but what should you do?"
"I should say that the marriage must not be decided on until she was ofage. And depend upon it, in that case, it would never come off. Iwish you saw it as I do--I wish you would talk to Brooke about it."
Sir James rose as he was finishing his sentence, for he saw Mrs.Cadwallader entering from the study. She held by the hand her youngestgirl, about five years old, who immediately ran to papa, and was madecomfortable on his knee.
"I hear what you are talking about," said the wife. "But you will makeno impression on Humphrey. As long as the fish rise to his bait,everybody is what he ought to be. Bless you, Casaubon has got atrout-stream, and does not care about fishing in it himself: couldthere be a better fellow?"
"Well, there is something in that," said the Rector, with his quiet,inward laugh. "It is a very good quality in a man to have atrout-stream."
"But seriously," said Sir James, whose vexation had not yet spentitself, "don't you think the Rector might do some good by speaking?"
"Oh, I told you beforehand what he would say," answered Mrs.Cadwallader, lifting up her eyebrows. "I have done what I could: Iwash my hands of the marriage."
"In the first place," said the Rector, looking rather grave, "it wouldbe nonsensical to expect that I could convince Brooke, and make him actaccordingly. Brooke is a very good fellow, but pulpy; he will run intoany mould, but he won't keep shape."
"He might keep shape long enough to defer the marriage," said Sir James.
"But, my dear Chettam, why should I use my influence to Casaubon'sdisadvantage, unless I were much surer than I am that I should beacting for the advantage of Miss Brooke? I know no harm of Casaubon.I don't care about his Xisuthrus and Fee-fo-fum and the rest; but thenhe doesn't care about my fishing-tackle. As to the line he took on theCatholic Question, that was unexpected; but he has always been civil tome, and I don't see why I should spoil his sport. For anything I cantell, Miss Brooke may be happier with him than she would be with anyother man."
"Humphrey! I have no patience with you. You know you would ratherdine under th
e hedge than with Casaubon alone. You have nothing to sayto each other."
"What has that to do with Miss Brooke's marrying him? She does not doit for my amusement."
"He has got no good red blood in his body," said Sir James.
"No. Somebody put a drop under a magnifying-glass and it was allsemicolons and parentheses," said Mrs. Cadwallader.
"Why does he not bring out his book, instead of marrying," said SirJames, with a disgust which he held warranted by the sound feeling ofan English layman.
"Oh, he dreams footnotes, and they run away with all his brains. Theysay, when he was a little boy, he made an abstract of 'Hop o' myThumb,' and he has been making abstracts ever since. Ugh! And that isthe man Humphrey goes on saying that a woman may be happy with."
"Well, he is what Miss Brooke likes," said the Rector. "I don'tprofess to understand every young lady's taste."
"But if she were your own daughter?" said Sir James.
"That would be a different affair. She is _not_ my daughter, and Idon't feel called upon to interfere. Casaubon is as good as most ofus. He is a scholarly clergyman, and creditable to the cloth. SomeRadical fellow speechifying at Middlemarch said Casaubon was thelearned straw-chopping incumbent, and Freke was the brick-and-mortarincumbent, and I was the angling incumbent. And upon my word, I don'tsee that one is worse or better than the other." The Rector ended withhis silent laugh. He always saw the joke of any satire againsthimself. His conscience was large and easy, like the rest of him: itdid only what it could do without any trouble.
Clearly, there would be no interference with Miss Brooke's marriagethrough Mr. Cadwallader; and Sir James felt with some sadness that shewas to have perfect liberty of misjudgment. It was a sign of his gooddisposition that he did not slacken at all in his intention of carryingout Dorothea's design of the cottages. Doubtless this persistence wasthe best course for his own dignity: but pride only helps us to begenerous; it never makes us so, any more than vanity makes us witty.She was now enough aware of Sir James's position with regard to her, toappreciate the rectitude of his perseverance in a landlord's duty, towhich he had at first been urged by a lover's complaisance, and herpleasure in it was great enough to count for something even in herpresent happiness. Perhaps she gave to Sir James Chettam's cottagesall the interest she could spare from Mr. Casaubon, or rather from thesymphony of hopeful dreams, admiring trust, and passionate selfdevotion which that learned gentleman had set playing in her soul.Hence it happened that in the good baronet's succeeding visits, whilehe was beginning to pay small attentions to Celia, he found himselftalking with more and more pleasure to Dorothea. She was perfectlyunconstrained and without irritation towards him now, and he wasgradually discovering the delight there is in frank kindness andcompanionship between a man and a woman who have no passion to hide orconfess.
