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A DISTINGUISHED GUEST.
A letter came from lord Gartley, begging Mrs. Raymount to excuse the
liberty he took, and allow him to ask whether he might presume upon her
wish, casually expressed, to welcome his aunt to the hospitality of
Yrndale. London was empty, therefore her engagements, although Parliament
was sitting, were few, and he believed if Mrs. Raymount would take the
trouble to invite her, she might be persuaded to avail herself of the
courtesy. "I am well aware," he wrote, "of the seeming rudeness of this
suggestion, but you, dear Mrs. Raymount, can read between lines, and
understand that it is no presumptuous desire to boast my friends to my
relatives that makes me venture what to other eyes than yours might well
seem an arrogance. If you have not room for us, or if our presence would
spoil your Christmas party, do not hesitate to put us off, I beg. I
shall understand you, and say nothing to my rather peculiar but most
worthy aunt, waiting a more convenient season." The desired invitation
was immediately dispatched,--with some wry faces on the part of the head
of the house who, however, would not oppose what his wife wished.
Notwithstanding his knowledge of men, that is, of fundamental human
nature, Mr. Raymount was not good at reading a man who made himself
agreeable, and did not tread on the toes of any of his theories--of
which, though mostly good, he made too much, as every man of theory
does. I would not have him supposed a man of theory only: such a man is
hardly man at all; but while he thought of the practice, he too
sparingly practiced the thought. He laid too much upon words altogether;
especially words in print, attributing more power to them for the
regeneration of the world than was reasonable. If he had known how few
cared a pin's point for those in which he poured out his mind, just
flavored a little with his heart, he would have lost hope altogether. If
he had known how his arguments were sometimes used against the very
principles he used them for, it would have enraged him. Perhaps the
knowledge of how few of those who admired his words acted upon them,
would have made him think how little he struggled himself to do the
things which by persuasion and argument he drove home upon the
consciences of others. He had not yet believed that to do right is more
to do for the regeneration of the world than any quality or amount of
teaching can do. "_The Press_" no doubt has a great power for good,
but every man possesses, involved in the very fact of his consciousness,
a greater power than any verbal utterance of truth whatever. It is
righteousness--not of words, not of theories, but in being, that is, in
vital action, which alone is the prince of the power of the spirit.
Where that is, everything has its perfect work; where that is not, the
man is not a power--is but a walker in a vain show.
He did not see through or even into Gartley who was by no means a
profound or intentional hypocrite. But he never started on a new
relation with any suspicions. Men of the world called him too good,
therefore a fool. It was not however any over-exalted idea of human
nature that led him astray in his judgment of the individual; it was
merely that he was too much occupied with what he counted his work--with
his theories first, then his writing of them, then the endless defending
of them, to care to see beyond the focus of his short-sighted eyes.
Vavasor was a gentlemanly fellow, and that went a long way with him. He
did not oppose him, and that went another long way: of all things he
could not bear to be opposed in what he so plainly saw to be true, nor
could think why every other honest man should not at once also see it
true. He forgot that the difficulty is not so much in recognizing the
truth of a proposition, as in recognizing what the proposition is. In
the higher regions of thought the recognition of what a proposition is,
and the recognition of its truth are more than homologous--they are the
same thing.
The ruin of a man's teaching comes of his followers, such as having
never touched the foundation he has laid, build upon it wood, hay, and
stubble, fit only to be burnt. Therefore, if only to avoid his worst
foes, his admirers, a man should avoid system. The more correct a system
the worse will it be misunderstood; its professed admirers will take
both its errors and their misconceptions of its truths, and hold them
forth as its essence. Mr. Raymount, then, was not the man to take that
care of his daughter which people of the world think necessary. But, on
the whole, even with the poor education they have, women, if let alone,
would take better care of themselves, than father or brother will for
them. I say on the whole; there may well be some exceptions. The
only thing making men more fit to take care of women than the women
themselves, is their greater opportunity of knowing the character of men
concerned--which knowledge, alas! they generally use against those they
claim to protect, concealing facts from the woman to whom they ought to
be conveyed; sometimes indeed having already deluded her with the
persuasion that is of no consequence in the man which is essential in
herself.
The day before Christmas-eve the expected visitors arrived--just in time
to dress for dinner.
The family was assembled in the large old drawing-room of dingy white
and tarnished gold when Miss Vavasor entered. She was tall and handsome
and had been handsomer, for she was not of those who, growing within,
grow more beautiful without as they grow older. She was dressed in the
plainest, handsomest fashion--in black velvet, fitting well her fine
figure, and half covered with point lace of a very thick
texture--Venetian probably. The only stones she wore were diamonds. Her
features were regular; her complexion was sallow, but not too sallow for
the sunset of beauty; her eyes were rather large, and of a clear gray;
her expression was very still, self-contained and self-dependent,
without being self-satisfied; her hair was more than half gray, but very
plentiful. Altogether she was one with an evident claim to distinction,
never asserted because always yielded. To the merest glance she showed
herself well born, well nurtured, well trained, and well kept, hence
well preserved. At an age when a poor woman must have been old and
wrinkled, and half undressed for the tomb, she was enough to make any
company look distinguished by her mere presence. Her manner was as
simple as her dress--without a trace of the vulgarity of condescension
or the least more stiffness than was becoming with persons towards whose
acquaintance, the rather that she was their guest, it was but decent to
advance gently, while it was also prudent to protect her line of
retreat, lest it should prove desirable to draw back. She spoke with the
utmost readiness and simplicity, looked with interest at Hester but
without curiosity, had the sweetest smile at hand for use as often as
wanted--a modest smile which gleamed but a moment and was gone. There
was nothing in her behaviour to indicate a consciousness of error from
her sphere. The world had given her the appearance of much of which
Christ gives the reality. For the world very oddly prizes the form whose
informing reality it despises.
Lord Gartley was in fine humour. He had not before appeared to so great
advantage. Vavasor had never put off his company manner with Hester's
family, but Gartley was almost merry, quite graciously familiar--as if
set on bringing out the best points of his friends, and preventing his
aunt's greatness from making them abashed, or their own too much modesty
from showing a lack of breeding. But how shall I describe his face when
major Marvel entered! he had not even feared his presence. A blank
dismay, such as could seldom have been visible there, a strange mingling
of annoyance, contempt, and fear, clouded it with an inharmonious
expression, which made him look much like a discomfited commoner. In a
moment he had overcome the unworthy sensation, and was again impassive
and seemingly cool. The major did not choose to see him at first, but
was presented to Miss Vavasor by their hostess as her cousin. He
appeared a little awed by the fine woman, and comported himself with the
dignity which awe gives, behaving like any gentleman used to society.
Seated next her at dinner, he did not once allude to pig-sticking or
tiger-shooting, to elephants or niggers, or even to his regiment or
India, but talked about the last opera and the last play, with some good
criticisms on the acting he had last seen, conducting himself in such
manner as would have made lord Gartley quite grateful to him, had he not
put it down to the imperial presence of his high-born aunt, cowering his
inferior nature. But while indeed the major was naturally checked by a
self-sufficing feminine presence, the cause that mainly operated to his
suppression was of another kind and from an opposite source.
He had been strongly tempted all that day to a very different behaviour.
Remembering what he had heard of the character of the lady, and of the
relation between her and her nephew, he knew at once, when told she was
coming, that lord Gartley was bringing her down with the hope of gaining
her consent to his asking Hester to marry him. "The rascal knows," said
the major to himself, "that nothing human could stand out against her!
There is only her inferior position to urge from any point of view!" And
therewith arose his temptation: might he not so comport himself before
the aunt as to disgust her with the family, and save his lovely cousin
from being sacrificed to a heartless noodle? To the extent of his means
he would do what money could to console her! It was at least better than
the empty title! He recalled the ways of his youth, remembered with what
delightful success he had annoyed aunts and cousins and lady friends,
chuckled to think that some of them had for months passed him without
even looking at him:
"I'll settle the young ape's hash for him!" he said to himself. "It only
wants a little free-and-easyness with my lady to do the deed. It can
cost me nothing except her good opinion, which I can afford. But I'll
lay you anything to nothing, if she knew the weight of my four quarters,
she would have me herself after all! I don't quite think myself a
lady-killer: by George, my--hum!--entourage is against that, but
where money is money can! Only I don't want her, and my money is for her
betters! What damned jolly fun it will be to send her out of the house
in a rage!--and a good deed done too!--By George, I'll do it! See if I
don't!"
He might possibly have found it not quite so easy to shock Miss Vavasor
as some of his late country cousins.
In this resolution he had begun to dress, but before he had finished had
begun to have his doubts. Would it not be dishonorable? Would it not
bring such indignation upon him that even Mark would turn away? Hester
would never except so much as a postage-stamp from him if he brought
disgrace on her family, and drove away her suitor! Besides, he might
fail! They might come to an understanding and leave him out in the cold!
By the time he was dressed he had resolved to leave the fancy alone, and
behave like a gentleman. But now with every sip of wine the temptation
came stronger and stronger. The spirit of fun kept stirring in him. Not
merely for the sake of Hester, but for the joke of the thing, he was
tempted, and had to keep fighting the impulse till the struggle was
almost more than he could endure. And just from this came the subdued
character of his demeanour! What had threatened to destroy his manners
for the evening turned out the corrective of his usual behaviour: as an
escape from the strife within him, he tried to make himself agreeable.
Miss Vavasor being good natured, was soon interested and by and by
pleased with him. This reacted; he began to feel pleased with her, and
was more at his ease. Therewith came the danger not unforeseen of some
at the table: he began to tell one of his stories. But he saw Hester
look anxious; and that was enough to put him on his careful honour. Ere
dinner was over he said to himself that if only the nephew were half as
good a fellow as the aunt, he would have been happy to give the young
people his blessing and a handsome present.
"By Jove!" said lord Gartley, "the scoundrel is not such a low fellow
after all! I think I will try to forgive him!" Now and then he would
listen across the table to their talk, and everything the major said
that pleased his aunt pleased him amazingly. At one little witticism of
hers in answer to one of the major's he burst into such a hearty laugh
that his aunt looked up.
"You are amused, Gartley!" she said.
"You are so clever, aunt!" he returned.
"Major Marvel has all the merit of my wit," she answered. This gave the
coup de grace to the major's temptation to do evil that good
might come, and sacrifice himself that Hester might not be sacrificed.
After dinner, they sat down to whist, of which Miss Vavasor was very
fond. When however she found they did not play for money, though she
praised the asceticism of the manner, she plainly took little interest
in the game. The major therefore, who had no scruples either of
conscience or of pocket in the matter, suggested that his lordship and
Hester should take their places, and proposed cribbage to her, for what
points she pleased. To this she acceded at once. The major was the best
player in his regiment, but Miss Vavasor had much the better of it, and
regretted she had not set the points higher. All her life she had had
money in the one eye and the poor earldom in the other. The major laid
down his halfcrowns so cheerfully, with such a look of satisfaction
even, that she came quite to like the man, and to hope he would be there
for some time, and prove as fond of cribbage as she was. The fear of
lord Gartley as to the malign influence of the major vanished entirely.
And now that he was more at his ease, and saw that his aunt was at least
far from displeased with Hester, lord Gartley began to radiate his
fascinations. All his finer nature appeared. He grew playful, even
teasing; gave again and again a quick repartee; and sang as his aunt had
never heard him sing before. But when Hester sang, the thing was done,
and the aunt won: she perceived at once what a sensation such a singer
would make in her heavenly circle! She had, to be sure, a little
too much expression, and sang well enough for a professional,
which was too well for a lady with no object in her singing except to
please. But in manner and style, to mention neither beauty nor
accomplishments, she would be a decided gain to the family, possessing
even in herself a not inconsiderable counterpoise to the title. Then who
could tell but this cousin--who seemed to have plenty of money, he
parted with it so easily--might be moved by like noble feelings with her
own to make a poor countess a rich one. The thing, I say, was settled,
so far as the chief family-worshipper was concerned.
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