CHAPTER XVII.
MR WHITTLESTAFF MEDITATES A JOURNEY.
The next day was Sunday, and was passed in absolute tranquillity.Nothing was said either by Mr Whittlestaff or by Mary Lawrie; nor,to the eyes of those among whom they lived, was there anything toshow that their minds were disturbed. They went to church in themorning, as was usual with them, and Mary went also to the eveningservice. It was quite pleasant to see Mrs Baggett start for her slowSabbath morning walk, and to observe how her appearance altogetherbelied that idea of rags and tatters which she had given as to herown wardrobe. A nicer dressed old lady, or a more becoming black silkgown, you shall not see on a Sunday morning making her way to anycountry church in England. While she was looking so pleasant anddemure,--one may say almost so handsome, in her old-fashioned andapparently new bonnet,--what could have been her thoughts respectingthe red-nosed, one-legged warrior, and her intended life, to bepassed in fetching two-penn'orths of gin for him, and her endeavoursto get for him a morsel of wholesome food? She had had her breakfastout of her own china tea-cup, which she used to boast was her ownproperty, as it had been given to her by Mr Whittlestaff's mother,and had had her little drop of cream, and, to tell the truth, herboiled egg, which she always had on a Sunday morning, to enable herto listen to the long sermon of the Rev Mr Lowlad. She would talkof her hopes and her burdens, and undoubtedly she was in earnest. Butshe certainly did seem to make her hay very comfortably while the sunshone.
Everything on this Sunday morning was pleasant, or apparentlypleasant, at Croker's Hall. In the evening, when Mary and themaid-servants went to church, leaving Mrs Baggett at home to lookafter the house and go to sleep, Mr Whittlestaff walked off to thewooded path with his Horace. He did not read it very long. The bitswhich he did usually read never amounted to much at a time. He wouldtake a few lines and then digest them thoroughly, wailing over themor rejoicing, as the case might be. He was not at the present momentmuch given to joy. "Intermissa, Venus, diu rursus bella moves? Parce,precor, precor." This was the passage to which he turned at thepresent moment; and very little was the consolation which he foundin it. What was so crafty, he said to himself, or so vain as that anold man should hark back to the pleasures of a time of life which waspast and gone! "Non sum qualis eram," he said, and then thought withshame of the time when he had been jilted by Catherine Bailey,--thetime in which he had certainly been young enough to love and beloved, had he been as lovable as he had been prone to love. Then heput the book in his pocket. His latter effort had been to recoversomething of the sweetness of life, and not, as had been the poet's,to drain those dregs to the bottom. But when he got home he bade Marytell him what Mr Lowlad had said in his sermon, and was quite cheeryin his manner of picking Mr Lowlad's theology to pieces;--for MrWhittlestaff did not altogether agree with Mr Lowlad as to the usesto be made of the Sabbath.
On the next morning he began to bustle about a little, as was usualwith him before he made a journey; and it did escape him, while hewas talking to Mrs Baggett about a pair of trousers which it turnedout that he had given away last summer, that he meditated a journeyto London on the next day.
"You ain't a-going?" said Mrs Baggett.
"I think I shall."
"Then don't. Take my word for it, sir,--don't." But Mr Whittlestaffonly snubbed her, and nothing more was said about the journey at themoment.
In the course of the afternoon visitors came. Miss Evelina Hall withMiss Forrester had been driven into Alresford, and now called incompany with Mr Blake. Mr Blake was full of his own good tidings,but not so full but that he could remember, before he took hisdeparture, to say a half whispered word on behalf of John Gordon."What do you think, Mr Whittlestaff? Since you were at LittleAlresford we've settled the day."
"You needn't be telling it to everybody about the county," saidKattie Forrester.
"Why shouldn't I tell it to my particular friends? I am sure MissLawrie will be delighted to hear it."
"Indeed I am," said Mary.
"And Mr Whittlestaff also. Are you not, Mr Whittlestaff?"
"I am very happy to hear that a couple whom I like so well are soonto be made happy. But you have not yet told us the day."
"The 1st of August," said Evelina Hall.
"The 1st of August," said Mr Blake, "is an auspicious day. I am surethere is some reason for regarding it as auspicious, though I cannotexactly remember what. It is something about Augustus, I think."
"I never heard of such an idea to come from a clergyman of the Churchof England," said the bride. "I declare Montagu never seems to thinkthat he's a clergyman at all."
"It will be better for him," said Mr Whittlestaff, "and for allthose about him, that he should ever remember the fact and never seemto do so."
"All the same," said Blake, "although the 1st of August isauspicious, I was very anxious to be married in July, only thepainters said they couldn't be done with the house in time. One isobliged to go by what these sort of people say and do. We're to havea month's honeymoon,--only just a month, because Mr Lowlad won'tmake himself as agreeable as he ought to do about the services; andNewface, the plumber and glazier, says he can't have the house doneas Kattie would like to live in it before the end of August. Where doyou think we're going to, Miss Lawrie? You would never guess."
"Perhaps to Rome," said Mary at a shot.
"Not quite so far. We're going to the Isle of Wight. It's ratherremarkable that I never spent but one week in the Isle of Wight sinceI was born. We haven't quite made up our mind whether it's to beBlack Gang Chine or Ventnor. It's a matter of dresses, you see."
"Don't be a fool, Montagu," said Miss Forrester.
"Well, it is. If we decide upon Ventnor, she must have frocks andthings to come out with."
"I suppose so," said Mr Whittlestaff.
"But she'll want nothing of the kind at Black Gang."
"Do hold your tongue, and not make an ass of yourself. What do youknow what dresses I shall want? As it is, I don't think I shall goeither to the one place or the other. The Smiths are at Ryde, and thegirls are my great friends. I think we'll go to Ryde, after all."
"I'm so sorry, Mr Whittlestaff, that we can't expect the pleasureof seeing you at our wedding. It is, of course, imperative thatKattie should be married in the cathedral. Her father is one of thedignitaries, and could not bear not to put his best foot foremost onsuch an occasion. The Dean will be there, of course. I'm afraid theBishop cannot come up from Farnham, because he will have friends withhim. I am afraid John Gordon will have gone by that time, or else wecertainly would have had him down. I should like John Gordon to bepresent, because he would see how the kind of thing is done." Thename of John Gordon at once silenced all the matrimonial chit-chatwhich was going on among them. It was manifest both to MrWhittlestaff and to Mary that it had been lugged in without a cause,to enable Mr Blake to talk about the absent man. "It would have beenpleasant; eh, Kattie?"
"We should have been very glad to see Mr Gordon, if it would havesuited him to come," said Miss Forrester.
"It would have been just the thing for him; and we at Oxfordtogether, and everything. Don't you think he would have liked to bethere? It would have put him in mind of other things, you know."
To this appeal there was no answer made. It was impossible that Maryshould bring herself to talk about John Gordon in mixed company.And the allusion to him stirred Mr Whittlestaff's wrath. Of courseit was understood as having been spoken in Mary's favour. And MrWhittlestaff had been made to perceive by what had passed at LittleAlresford that the Little Alresford people all took the side of JohnGordon, and were supposed to be taking the side of Mary at the sametime. There was not one of them, he said to himself, that had halfthe sense of Mrs Baggett. And there was a vulgarity about theirinterference of which Mrs Baggett was not guilty.
"He is half way on his road to the diamond-fields," said Evelina.
"And went away from here on Saturday morning!" said Montagu Blake."He has not started yet,--not dreamed of it. I heard him whisper
toMr Whittlestaff about his address. He's to be in London at his club.I didn't hear him say for how long, but when a man gives his addressat his club he doesn't mean to go away at once. I have a plan in myhead. Some of those boats go to the diamond-fields from Southampton.All the steamers go everywhere from Southampton. Winchester is on theway to Southampton. Nothing will be easier for him than to drop infor our marriage on his way out. That is, if he must go at last."Then he looked hard at Mary Lawrie.
"And bring some of his diamonds with him," said Evelina Hall. "Thatwould be very nice." But not a word more was said then about JohnGordon by the inhabitants of Croker's Hall. After that the visitorswent, and Montagu Blake chaperoned the girls out of the house,without an idea that he had made himself disagreeable.
"That young man is a most egregious ass," said Mr Whittlestaff.
"He is good-natured and simple, but I doubt whether he sees thingsvery plainly."
"He has not an idea of what a man may talk about and when he shouldhold his tongue. And he is such a fool as to think that his idlechatter can influence others. I don't suppose a bishop can refuse toordain a gentleman because he is a general idiot. Otherwise I thinkthe bishop is responsible for letting in such an ass as this." Marysaid to herself, as she heard this, that it was the most ill-naturedremark which she had ever known to fall from the mouth of MrWhittlestaff.
"I think I am going away for a few days," Mr Whittlestaff said toMary, when the visitors were gone.
"Where are you going?"
"Well, I suppose I shall be in London. When one goes anywhere, it isgenerally to London; though I haven't been there for more than twomonths."
"Not since I came to live with you," she said. "You are the moststay-at-home person by way of a gentleman that I ever heard of." Thenthere was a pause for a few minutes, and he said nothing further."Might a person ask what you are going for?" This she asked in theplayful manner which she knew he would take in good part.
"Well; I don't quite know that a person can. I am going to see a manupon business, and if I began to tell you part of it, I must tell itall,--which would not be convenient."
"May I not ask how long you will be away? There can't be any dreadfulsecret in that. And I shall want to know what to get for your dinnerwhen you come back." She was standing now at his elbow, and he washolding her by the arm. It was to him almost as though she werealready his wife, and the feeling to him was very pleasant. Only ifshe were his wife, or if it were positively decided among them thatshe would become so, he would certainly tell her the reason for whichhe might undertake any journey. Indeed there was no reason connectedwith any business of his which might not be told, other than thatspecial reason which was about to take him to London. He onlyanswered her now by pressing her hand and smiling into her face."Will it be for a month?"
"Oh dear, no! what should I do away from home for a month?"
"How can I tell? The mysterious business may require you to be absentfor a whole year. Fancy my being left at home all that time. Youdon't think of it; but you have never left me for a single nightsince you first brought me to live here."
"And you have never been away."
"Oh, no! why should I go away? What business can a woman have to movefrom home, especially such a woman as I am."
"You are just like Mrs Baggett. She always talks of women withsupreme contempt. And yet she is just as proud of herself as thequeen when you come to contradict her."
"You never contradict me."
"Perhaps the day may come when I shall." Then he recollected himself,and added, "Or perhaps the day may never come. Never mind. Put upmy things for one week. At any rate I shall not be above a weekgone." Then she left him, and went away to his room to do what wasnecessary.
She knew the business on which he was about to travel to London, aswell as though he had discussed with her the whole affair. In thecourse of the last two or three days there had been moments in whichshe had declared to herself that he was cruel. There had been momentsin which she had fainted almost with sorrow when she thought of thelife which fate had in store for her. There must be endless misery,while there might have been joy, so ecstatic in its nature as to makeit seem to her to be perennial. Then she had almost fallen, and haddeclared him to be preternaturally cruel. But these moments had beenshort, and had endured only while she had allowed herself to dreamof the ecstatic joy, which she confessed to herself to be an unfitcondition of life for her. And then she had told herself that MrWhittlestaff was not cruel, and that she herself was no better than aweak, poor, flighty creature unable to look in its face life and allits realities. And then she would be lost in amazement as she thoughtof herself and all her vacillations.
She now was resolved to take his part, and to fight his battle tothe end. When he had told her that he was going up to London, andgoing up on business as to which he could tell her nothing, she knewthat it behoved her to prevent him from taking the journey. JohnGordon should be allowed to go in quest of his diamonds, and MrWhittlestaff should be persuaded not to interfere with him. It wasfor her sake, and not for John Gordon's, that he was about to makethe journey. He had asked her whether she were willing to marry him,and she had told him that he was pressing her too hard. She wouldtell him now,--now before it was too late,--that this was not so. Hisjourney to London must at any rate be prevented.