That Stick

C >> Charlotte M. Yonge >> That Stick

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Lady Kenton noted the 'we' and was sorry to be here interrupted. 'We
shall do nothing with him till we get him alone,' she said. 'We must
have him apart from Mr. Burford.'

Before this, however, they had to meet him at a very splendid party,
given with all the resources of the Burford family at their villa, when
the county folks, who had no small curiosity to see the new peer, were
invited in full force, and the poor peer felt capable of fewer words than
ever to throw at them.

Lady Kenton ventured on asking Mrs. Burford to introduce her to Miss
Marshall, taking such presence for granted.

'Oh, Lady Kenton, really now I did not think that foolish affair should
be encouraged. It is such an unfortunate thing for him; and as Miss Lang
and I agreed, it would be so much better for both of them if it were
given up.'

'Is there anything against her?'

'Oh no, not at all; only that, poor thing, she is quite unfitted for the
position, and between ourselves, in the condition of the property, it is
really incumbent on his Lordship to marry a lady of fortune. At his age
he cannot afford romance,' she added with a laugh, being in fact rather
inferior to her husband in tone, or perhaps in manners. Indeed, she was
of all others the person who most shrivelled up the man whom she had
always treated like a poor dependent, till her politeness became still
more embarrassing. Among all the party, Sir Edward and Lady Kenton were
those with whom he was most nearly at ease, for they had nothing to
revoke in their manners towards him, and could, without any change, treat
him as an equal whom they respected; nor did they try to force him
forward into general conversation--as did his host--with the best
intentions.

Lady Kenton, under cover of Miss Burford's piano, asked him whether she
might call on Miss Marshall, and saw him flush with gratitude and
pleasure, as he answered, 'It will be very kind in you.'

Lady Kenton knew enough of the ways of the school to understand when to
make her visit, so as to have a previous conversation with Miss Lang,
whom of course she already knew. That lady received her in one of the
drawing-rooms, the folding doors into the other were shut.

'I have told Miss Marshall,' said Miss Lang, 'that the room is always at
her service to receive Lord Northmoor, though, in fact, he never comes
till after business hours.'

'He is behaving very well.'

'Very honourably indeed; but poor Miss Marshall is in a very distressing
position.'

'Indeed! Is she not very happy in his constancy?'

'She is in great doubt and difficulty,' said Miss Lang, 'and we really
hardly know how to advise her. She seems sure of his affection, but she
shrinks from entering on a position for which she is so unfit.'

'Is she really unfit?'

Miss Lang hesitated. 'She is a complete lady, and as good and
conscientious a creature as ever existed; but you see, Lady Kenton, her
whole life has been spent here, ever since she was sixteen, she has known
nothing beyond the schoolroom, and how she is ever to fulfil the duties
of a peeress, and the head of a large establishment, I really cannot see.
It might be just misery to her, and to him, too.'

'Has she good sense?'

'Yes, very fair sense. We can trust to her judgment implicitly in
dealing with the girls, and she teaches well, but she is not at all
clever, and could never shine.'

'Perhaps a person who wanted to shine might be embarrassing,' said Lady
Kenton, rather amused.

'Well, it might be so. The poor man is certainly no star himself, but
surely he needs some one who would draw him out, and push him forward,
make a way in society, in fact.'

'That might not be for his domestic happiness.'

'Perhaps not, but your Ladyship has not seen what a poor little
insignificant creature she is--though, indeed, we are both very fond of
her, and should be very much relieved not to think we ought to strengthen
her scruples. For, indeed,' and tears actually came into the good lady's
eyes, 'I am sure that though she would release him for his good, that it
would break her heart. Shall I call her? Ah!' as a voice began to
become very audible on the other side of the doors, 'she has a visitor.'

'Not Lord Northmoor. It is a woman's voice, and a loud one.'

Presently, indeed, there was a tone that made Lady Kenton say, 'People do
scent things very fast. It must be some one wanting to apply for
patronage.'

'I am a little afraid it is that sister-in-law of his,' said Miss Lang,
lowering her voice. 'I saw her once at the choral festival--and--and I
wasn't delighted.'

'Perhaps I had better come another day,' said Lady Kenton. 'We seem to
be almost listening.'

Even as the lady was taking her leave, the words were plainly heard--

'Artful, mean-spirited, time-serving viper as you are, bent on dragging
him down to destruction!'

CHAPTER VII
MORTONS AND MANNERS

'Shillyshally,' quoth Mrs. Charles Morton over her brother-in-law's
letter. 'Does he think a mother is to be put off like that?'

So she arrayed herself in panoply of glittering jet and nodding plumes,
and set forth by train to Hurminster to assert her rights, and those of
her children, armed with a black sunshade, and three
pocket-handkerchiefs. She did not usually wear mourning, but this was an
assertion of her nobility.

In his sitting-room, wearing his old office coat, pale, wearied, and
worried, the Frank Morton, 'who could be turned round the finger of any
one who knew how,' appeared at her summons.

She met him with an effusive kiss of congratulation. 'Dearest Frank!
No, I must not say Frank! I could hardly believe my eyes when I read the
news.'

'Nor I,' said he.

'Nor the dear children. Oh, if your dear brother were only here! We are
longing to hear all about it,' she said, as she settled herself in the
arm-chair, a relic of his mother.

He repeated what he had told Mary about the family, the Park, and the
London house.

'I suppose there is a fine establishment of servants and carriages?'

'The servants are to be paid off. As to the carriages and the rest of
the personal property, they go to Miss Morton; but the executors are
arranging about my paying for such furniture as I shall want.'

'And jewels?'

'There are some heirlooms, but I have not seen them. How are the
children?'

'Very well; very much delighted. Dear Herbert is the noblest boy. He
was ready to begin on his navigation studies this next term, but of
course there is no occasion for that now.'

'It is a pity, with his taste for the sea, that he is too old to be a
naval cadet.'

'The army is a gentleman's profession, if he must have one.'

'I must consider what is best for him.'

'Yes, my Lord,' impressively. 'I am hoping to know what you mean to do
for your dear brother's dear orphans,' and her handkerchief went up to
her eyes.

'I hope at any rate to give Herbert the education of a gentleman, and to
send his sisters to good schools. How are they getting on?'

'Dear Ida, she is that clever and superior that a master in music and
French is all she would want. Besides, you know, she is that delicate.
Connie is the bookish one; she is so eager about the examination that she
will go on at her school; though I would have taken her away from such a
low place at once.'

'It is a good school, and will have given her a good foundation. I must
see what may be best for them.'

'And, of course, you will put us in a situation becoming the family of
your dear brother,' she added, with another application of the
handkerchief.

'I mean to do what I can, you may be sure, but at present it is
impossible to name any amount. I neither know what income is coming to
me, nor what will be my expenses. I meant to come and see you as soon as
there was anything explicit to tell you; but of course this first year
there will be much less in hand than later.'

'Well,' she said, pouting, 'I can put up with something less in the
meantime, for of course your poor dear brother's widow and children are
your first consideration, and even a nobleman as a bachelor cannot have
so many expenses.'

'I shall not long continue a bachelor,' was the answer, given with a sort
of shy resolution.

'Now, Lord Northmoor! You don't mean to say that you intend to go on
with that ridiculous affair; when, if you marry at all, it ought to be
one who will bring something handsome into the family.'

'Once for all, Emma, I will hear no more on that subject. A twenty
years' engagement is not lightly to be broken.'

'A wretched little teacher,' she began, but she was cut short.

'Remember, I will hear no more of this, and' (nothing but despair of
other means could have inspired him) 'it is for your own interest to
abstain from insulting my future wife and myself by such remonstrances.'

Even then she muttered, 'Very hard! Not even good-looking.'

'That is as one may think,' said he, mentally contrasting the flaunting,
hardened complexion before him with the sweet countenance he had never
perceived to be pinched or faded; and as he heard something between a
scornful sniff and a sob, he added, 'I am wanted in the office, so, if
you have no more to say of any consequence, I must leave you, and Hannah
shall give you some tea.'

'Oh, oh, that you should leave your poor brother's widow in this way!'
and she melted into tears and sobs.

'I can't help it, Emma,' he said, distressed and perplexed. 'They want
me about some business of Mr. Claughton's, and I can't keep them waiting.
These are office hours, you know. Have some tea, and I will come to you
again.'

But Mrs. Emma swallowed her sobs as soon as he was gone, and instead of
waiting for the tea, set forth for Miss Lang's. On asking for Miss
Marshall she was shown into the drawing-room, where, after she had waited
a few minutes, nursing her wrath to keep it warm, the small figure
appeared, whom she had no hesitation in accosting thus--

'Now, Miss Marshall, do I understand that you are resolved to attempt
thrusting yourself on his Lordship, Lord Northmoor's family?'

Mary, entirely taken by surprise, could only falter, 'I can only do
whatever he wishes.'

'That is just a mere pretence. I wonder you are not ashamed to play on
his honourable feelings, when you know everything is changed, and that it
is absolutely ridiculous and derogatory for a peer of the realm to stoop
to a mere drudge of a teacher.'

'It is,' owned Mary; but she went back to her formulary, 'it must be as
he wishes.'

'If he is infatuated enough to pretend to wish it, I tell you it is your
simple duty to refuse him.'

Whatever might be Mary's own views of her duty, to have it inculcated in
such a manner stirred her whole soul into opposition, which was shown,
not in words, but in a tiny curve of the lips, such as infuriated her
visitor, so that vulgarity and violence were under no restraint, and
whether all self-command was lost in passion, or whether there was an
idea that bullying might gain the day, Mrs. Morton's voice rose into a
shrill scream as she denounced the nasty, mean-spirited viper, worming
herself--

The folding doors suddenly opened and in a dignified tone Miss Lang
announced, 'Lady Kenton wishes to be introduced to you, Miss Marshall.'

Mary made her little formal bend as well as her trembling limbs would
allow her. Her cheeks were hot, her eyes swam, her hand shook as Lady
Kenton took it kindly, while Mrs. Morton, too strong in her own
convictions to perceive how the land lay, exclaimed, 'Your Ladyship is
come for the same purpose as me, to let Miss Marshall know how
detrimental and improper it is in her to persist in holding my brother,
Lord Northmoor, to the unfortunate engagement she inveigled him into.'

To utter this with moderate coolness cost such an effort that she thought
Mr. Rollstone could not have done it better, and was astonished when Lady
Kenton replied, 'Indeed, I came to have the pleasure of congratulating
Miss Marshall on, if it be not impertinent to say so, a beautiful and
rare perseverance and constancy being rewarded.'

'As if she had not known what she was about,' muttered Mrs. Morton, not
even yet quite confounded, but as she saw the lady lay another hand over
that of still trembling Mary, she added, 'Well, if that is the case, my
lady, and she is to be encouraged in her obstinacy, I have no more to
say, except that it is a cruel shame on his poor dear brother's children,
that--that he has made so much of, and have the best right--' and she
began to sob again.

'Come,' said Miss Lang, as if talking to a naughty girl, 'if you are
overcome like that, you had better come away.'

Wherewith authoritative habits made it possible to her to get Mrs. Morton
out of the room; while Mary, well used to self-restraint, was struggling
with choking tears, but when warm-hearted Lady Kenton drew her close and
kissed her, they began to flow uncontrollably, so that she could only
gasp, 'Oh, I beg your pardon, my lady!'

'Never mind,' was the answer; 'I don't wonder! There's no word for that
language but brutal.'

'Oh, don't,' was Mary's cry. 'She is _his_, Lord Northmoor's
sister-in-law, and he has done everything for her ever since his
brother's death.'

'That is no reason she should speak to you in that way. I must ask you
to excuse me, but we could not help hearing, she was so loud, and then I
felt impelled to break in.'

'It was very very kind! But oh, I wish I knew whether she is not in the
right after all!'

'I am sure Lord Northmoor is deeply attached--quite in earnest,' said
Lady Kenton, feeling rather as if she was taking a liberty.

'Yes, I know it would grieve him most dreadfully, if it came to an end
now, dear fellow. I know it would break my heart, too, but never mind
that, I would go away, out of his reach, and he might get over it. Would
it not be better than his being always ashamed of an inferior,
incompetent creature, always dragging after him?'

'I do not think you can be either, after what my daughter and Miss Lang
have told me.'

'You see, it is not even as if I had been a governess in a private
family, I have always been here. I know nothing about servants, or great
houses, or society, not so much as our least little girl, who has a
home.'

'May I tell you what I think, my dear,' said Lady Kenton, greatly
touched. 'You have nothing to unlearn, and there is nothing needful to
the position but what any person of moderate ability and good sense can
acquire, and I am quite sure that Lord Northmoor would be far less happy
without you, even in the long-run, besides the distress you would cause
him now. It is not a brilliant, showy person that he needs, but one to
understand and make him a real home.'

'That is what he is always telling me,' said Mary, somewhat cheered.

'Yes, and he could not help showing where his heart is,' said the lady.
'Now the holidays are near, are they not?'

'The 11th of July.'

'Then, if you have no other plans, will you come and stay with me? We
are very quiet people, but you would have an opportunity of understanding
something of the kind of life.'

'Oh, how very kind of you! Nobody has been so good to me.'

'I think I can help you in some of the difficulties if you will let me,'
said Lady Kenton, quite convinced herself, and leaving a much happier
woman than she had found.

CHAPTER VIII
SECOND THOUGHTS

Though Miss Lang was shocked and indignant at Mrs. Morton's violence, she
was a wise woman, and felt that it would be better tact not to let such a
person depart without an attempt at pacification; so she did her best at
dignified soothing, and listened to a good deal of grumbling and
lamentation.

She contrived, however, to give the impression that as things stood, Mrs.
Morton would be far wiser to make no more resistance, but to consult
family peace by accepting Miss Marshall, who, she assured the visitor,
was a very kind and excellent person, not likely to influence Lord
Northmoor against his own family, except on great provocation.

Mrs. Morton actually yielded so far as to declare she had only spoken for
her dear brother-in-law's own good, and that since he was so infatuated,
she supposed, for her dear children's sake, she must endure it. Having
no desire to encounter him again, she went off by the next train, leaving
a message that she had had tea at Miss Lang's. She related at home to
her expectant daughter that Lord Northmoor had grown 'that high and
stuck-up, there was no speaking to him, and that there Miss Marshall was
an artful puss, as knew how to play her cards and get _in_ with the
quality.'

'I wish you had taken me, ma,' said Ida, 'I should have known what to say
to them.'

'I can't tell, child, you might only have made it worse. I see how it is
now, and we must be mum, or it may be the worse for us. He says he will
do what he can for us, but I know what that means. She will hold the
purse-strings, and make him meaner than he is already. He will never
know how to spend his fortune now he has got it! If your poor, dear pa
had only been alive now, he would never have let you be wronged.'

'But you gave it to them?' cried Ida.

'That I did! Only that lady, Lady Kenton, came in all stuck-up and
haughty, and cut me short, interfering as she had no business to, or I
would have brought Miss Mary to her marrow-bones. She hadn't a word to
say for herself, but now she has got those fine folks on her side, the
thing will go on as sure as fate. However, I've done my dooty, that's
one comfort; and now, I suppose I shall have to patch it up as best I
can.'

'I wouldn't!' said Ida hotly.

'Ah, Ida, my dear, you don't know what a mother won't do for her
children.'

A sigh that was often reiterated as Mrs. Morton composed a letter to her
brother-in-law, with some hints from Ida on the spelling, and some from
Mr. Rollstone on the address. The upshot was that her dear brother and
his _fiancee_ were to believe her actuated by the purest sense of the
duty and anxiety she owed to them and her dear children, the orphans of
his dear deceased brother. Now that she had once expressed herself, she
trusted to her dear Frank's affectionate nature to bury all in oblivion,
and to believe that she should be ready to welcome her new sister-in-law
with the warmest affection. Therewith followed a request for five
pounds, to pay for her mourning and darling Ida's, which they had felt
due to him!

Lord Northmoor did not quite see how it was due to him, nor did he intend
to give whatever his dear sister-in-law might demand, but she had made
him so angry that he felt that he must prove his forgiveness to himself.
Mary had not thought it needful to describe the force of the attack upon
herself, or perhaps his pardon might not have gone so far. He sent the
note, and added that as he was wanted at Northmoor for a day or two, he
would take his nephew Herbert with him.

This was something like, as Mrs. Morton said, a kind of tangible
acknowledgment of their relationship and of Herbert as his heir, and it
was a magnificent thing to tell all her acquaintances that her son was
gone to the family seat with his uncle, Lord Northmoor. She would fain
have obtained for him some instructions in the manners of the upper ten
thousand from Mr. Rollstone, but Herbert entirely repudiated listening to
that old fogey, observing that after all it was only old Frank, and he
wasn't going to bother himself for the like of him.

The uncle was fond of his brother's boy, and had devised this plan partly
for the sake of the pleasure it would give, and partly because it was
impossible to form any judgment of his character while with the mother.
He was a fine, well-grown, manly boy, and when seen among his companions,
had an indefinable air of good blood about him. He had hitherto been at
a good day-school which prepared boys for the merchant service, and his
tastes were so much in the direction of the sea, that it was much to be
regretted that at fourteen and a half it was useless to think of
preparation for a naval cadetship. He was sent up by train to join his
uncle at Hurminster, and the first question after the greeting was, 'I
say, uncle, shan't you have a yacht?'

'I could not afford it, if I wished it,' was the answer, while _Punch_
was handed over to him, and Lord Northmoor applied himself to a long blue
letter.

'Landlubber!' sighed Herbert to himself, with true marine contempt for a
man who had sat on an office-stool all his life. 'He doesn't look a bit
more of a swell than he used to. It is well there's some one with some
pluck in the family.'

CHAPTER IX
THE HEIR-PRESUMPTUOUS

Herbert began to be impressed when, on the train arriving at a little
country station, a servant in mourning, with finger to his hat, inquired
after his Lordship's luggage, and another was seen presiding over a
coroneted brougham.

'I say,' he breathed forth, when they were shut in, 'is this yours?'

'It is Miss Morton's, I believe, at present. I am to arrange whether to
keep it or not.'

They were driving over an open heath in its summer carpet-like state of
purple heather, dwarf gorse, and bracken. Lord Northmoor looked out,
with thoughtfulness in his face. By and by there was a gate, a lodge, a
curtseying woman, and as they passed it, he said, 'Now, this is
Northmoor.'

'Yours, uncle?'

'Yes.'

'My--!' was all Herbert could utter. It semed to his town-bred eyes a
huge space before they reached, through some rather scanty plantations,
another lodge, and a park, not very extensive, but with a few fine trees,
and they thundered up beneath the pillars to what was, to his idea, a
palace--with servants standing about in a great hall.

His uncle would have turned one way, but a servant said, 'Miss Morton is
in the morning-room, my Lord,' and ushered them into a room where a lady
in black came forward.

'You did not expect to find me here still,' she said cordially; 'but
Adela is gone to her brother's, and I thought I had better stay for the
division of--of the things.'

'Oh, certainly--I am--glad,' he stammered, with a blush as one not quite
sure of the correctness of the proceeding. 'I wouldn't have intruded--'

'Bosh! I'm the intruder. Letitia Bury is gone--alas--but,' said she,
laughing, 'Hailes is here--staying,' she added to relieve him and to
lessen the confusion that amused her, 'and I see you have a companion.
Your nephew--?'

'Yes, Herbert, my late brother's son. I would not have brought him if I
had known.'

'A cousin,' she said, smiling, and shaking hands with him. 'Boys are my
delight. This is quite a new experience.'

Herbert looked up surprised, not much liking to become an experience. He
had had less intercourse with ladies than many boys of humbler
pretensions, for his mother had always scouted the idea of sending her
children to a Sunday-school, and she was neither like his mother's
friends nor his preconceived notions. 'There! for want of an
introduction, I must introduce myself. Your cousin Bertha, or Birdie,
whichever you like best.'

Frank was by no means prepared to say even Bertha, and was in agonies
lest Herbert should presume on the liberty given him; but if the boy had
been in the palace of Truth, he would have said, 'You old girl, you are
awfully old to call yourself Birdie!' For Birdie had been a pet name of
Rose Rollstone; and Bertha Morton, though slim and curly-headed, had a
worn look about her eyes, and a countenance such as to show her
five-and-thirty years, and to the eyes of fourteen was almost
antediluvian; indeed, older observers might detect a worn, haggard,
strained look. He was somewhat disgusted, too, at the thin rolls of
bread-and-butter on the low table, whence she proceeded to hand teacups,
as he thought of the substantial meals at home. When they had been
conducted to their rooms, and his uncle followed to his, he broke out
with his perpetual, 'I say, uncle, is this all the grub great swells
have? I'm awfully peckish!'

'That's early tea, my boy,' was the answer, with a smile. 'There's
dinner to come, and I hope you will behave yourself well, and not use
such expressions.'

'Dinner! that's not such a bad hearing, but I suppose one must eat it
like a judge?'

'Certainly; I am afraid I am not a very good model, but don't you do
anything you don't see me do. And, Herbert, don't take wine every time
the servants offer it.'

At which Herbert made a face.

'Have you got any evening shoes? No! If I had only known that the lady
was here! It can't be helped to-day, only wash your face and hands well;
there's some hot water.'

'Why, they ain't dirty,' said the boy, surveying them as one to whom the
remains of a journey were mere trifles, then, with a sigh, 'It's no end
of a place, but you swells have a lot of bores, and no mistake!'

Upstairs Herbert roamed about studying with great curiosity the
appliances of the first bedchamber he had ever beheld beyond the degree
of his mother's 'first floor,' but downstairs, he was in the mood of the
savage, too proud to show wonder or admiration or the sense of awe with
which he was inspired by being waited on by the very marrow of Mr.
Rollstone, always such grand company at home. This daunted him far more
than the presence of the lady, and though his was a spirit not easily
daunted, he almost blushed when that personage peremptorily resisted his
endeavour to present the wrong glass for champagne, which fortunately he
disliked too much at the first taste to make another attempt. Lord
Northmoor, for the first time at the foot of his own table, was on thorns
all the time, lest he should see his nephew commit some indiscretion, and
left most of the conversation to Miss Morton and Mr. Hailes, the
solicitor, a fine-looking old gentleman, who was almost fatherly to her,
very civil to him, but who cast somewhat critical eyes on the cub who
might have to be licked into a shape befitting the heir.

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