CHAPTER XIX.
Tribute from Oileymead.
Kate Vavasor, in writing to her cousin Alice, felt some littledifficulty in excusing herself for remaining in Norfolk with Mrs.Greenow. She had laughed at Mrs. Greenow before she went to Yarmouth,and had laughed at herself for going there. And in all her letterssince, she had spoken of her aunt as a silly, vain, worldly woman,weeping crocodile tears, for an old husband whose death had releasedher from the tedium of his company, and spreading lures to catch newlovers. But yet she agreed to stay with her aunt, and remain with herin lodgings at Norwich for a month.
But Mrs. Greenow had about her something more than Kate hadacknowledged when she first attempted to read her aunt's character.She was clever, and in her own way persuasive. She was very generous,and possessed a certain power of making herself pleasant to thosearound her. In asking Kate to stay with her she had so asked as tomake it appear that Kate was to confer the favour. She had told herniece that she was all alone in the world. "I have money," she hadsaid, with more appearance of true feeling than Kate had observedbefore. "I have money, but I have nothing else in the world. I haveno home. Why should I not remain here in Norfolk, where I know a fewpeople? If you'll say that you'll go anywhere else with me, I'll goto any place you'll name." Kate had believed this to be hardly true.She had felt sure that her aunt wished to remain in the neighbourhoodof her seaside admirers; but, nevertheless, she had yielded, and atthe end of October the two ladies, with Jeannette, settled themselvesin comfortable lodgings within the precincts of the Close at Norwich.
Mr. Greenow at this time had been dead very nearly six months, but hiswidow made some mistakes in her dates and appeared to think that theinterval had been longer. On the day of their arrival at Norwich itwas evident that this error had confirmed itself in her mind. "Onlythink," she said, as she unpacked a little miniature of the departedone, and sat with it for a moment in her hands, as she pressed herhandkerchief to her eyes, "only think, that it is barely nine monthssince he was with me?"
"Six, you mean, aunt," said Kate, unadvisedly.
"Only nine months" repeated Mrs. Greenow, as though she had not heardher niece. "Only nine months!" After that Kate attempted to correctno more such errors. "It happened in May, Miss," Jeannette saidafterwards to Miss Vavasor, "and that, as we reckons, it will be justa twelvemonth come Christmas." But Kate paid no attention to this.
And Jeannette was very ungrateful, and certainly should have indulgedherself in no such sarcasms. When Mrs. Greenow made a slight change inher mourning, which she did on her arrival at Norwich, using a littlelace among her crapes, Jeannette reaped a rich harvest in gifts ofclothes. Mrs. Greenow knew well enough that she expected more froma servant than mere service;--that she wanted loyalty, discretion,and perhaps sometimes a little secrecy;--and as she paid for thesethings, she should have had them.
Kate undertook to stay a month with her aunt at Norwich, and Mrs.Greenow undertook that Mr. Cheesacre should declare himself as Kate'slover, before the expiration of the month. It was in vain that Kateprotested that she wanted no such lover, and that she would certainlyreject him if he came. "That's all very well, my dear," Aunt Greenowwould say. "A girl must settle herself some day, you know;--and you'dhave it all your own way at Oileymead."
But the offer certainly showed much generosity on the part of AuntGreenow, inasmuch as Mr. Cheesacre's attentions were apparently paidto herself rather than to her niece. Mr. Cheesacre was very attentive.He had taken the lodgings in the Close, and had sent over fowls andcream from Oileymead, and had called on the morning after theirarrival; but in all his attentions he distinguished the aunt moreparticularly than the niece. "I am all for Mr. Cheesacre, Miss,"said Jeannette once. "The Captain is perhaps the nicerer-lookinggentleman, and he ain't so podgy like; but what's good looks if agentleman hasn't got nothing? I can't abide anything that's poor;neither can't Missus." From which it was evident that Jeannette gaveMiss Vavasor no credit in having Mr. Cheesacre in her train.
Captain Bellfield was also at Norwich, having obtained somequasi-military employment there in the matter of drilling volunteers.Certain capacities in that line it may be supposed that he possessed,and, as his friend Cheesacre said of him, he was going to earn anhonest penny once in his life. The Captain and Mr. Cheesacre had madeup any little differences that had existed between them at Yarmouth,and were close allies again when they left that place. Some littlecompact on matters of business must have been arranged betweenthem,--for the Captain was in funds again. He was in funds againthrough the liberality of his friend,--and no payment of former loanshad been made, nor had there been any speech of such. Mr. Cheesacrehad drawn his purse-strings liberally, and had declared that if allwent well the hospitality of Oileymead should not be wanting duringthe winter. Captain Bellfield had nodded his head and declared thatall should go well.
"You won't see much of the Captain, I suppose," said Mr. Cheesacre toMrs. Greenow on the morning of the day after her arrival at Norwich.He had come across the whole way from Oileymead to ask her if shefound herself comfortable,--and perhaps with an eye to the Norwichmarkets at the same time. He now wore a pair of black riding bootsover his trousers, and a round topped hat, and looked much more athome than he had done by the seaside.
"Not much, I dare say," said the widow. "He tells me that he must beon duty ten or twelve hours a day. Poor fellow!"
"It's a deuced good thing for him, and he ought to be very muchobliged to me for putting him in the way of getting it. But he toldme to tell you that if he didn't call, you were not to be angry withhim."
"Oh, no;--I shall remember, of course."
"You see, if he don't work now he must come to grief. He hasn't gota shilling that he can call his own."
"Hasn't he really?"
"Not a shilling, Mrs. Greenow;--and then he's awfully in debt. Heisn't a bad fellow, you know, only there's no trusting him foranything." Then after a few further inquiries that were almosttender, and a promise of further supplies from the dairy, Mr.Cheesacre took his leave, almost forgetting to ask after MissVavasor.
But as he left the house he had a word to say to Jeannette. "Hehasn't been here, has he, Jenny?" "We haven't seen a sight of himyet, sir,--and I have thought it a little odd." Then Mr. Cheesacregave the girl half-a-crown, and went his way. Jeannette, I think,must have forgotten that the Captain had looked in after leaving hismilitary duties on the preceding evening.
The Captain's ten or twelve hours of daily work was performed,no doubt, at irregular intervals,--some days late and some daysearly,--for he might be seen about Norwich almost at all times,during the early part of that November;--and he might be veryoften seen going into the Close. In Norwich there are two weeklymarket-days, but on those days the Captain was no doubt kept moreentirely to his military employment, for at such times he neverwas seen near the Close. Now Mr. Cheesacre's visits to the townwere generally made on market-days, and so it happened that theydid not meet. On such occasions Mr. Cheesacre always was drivento Mrs. Greenow's door in a cab,--for he would come into town byrailway,--and he would deposit a basket bearing the rich produce ofhis dairy. It was in vain that Mrs. Greenow protested against thesegifts,--for she did protest and declared that if they were continued,they would be sent back. They were, however, continued, and Mrs.Greenow was at her wits' end about them. Cheesacre would not comeup with them; but leaving them, would go about his business, andwould return to see the ladies. On such occasions he would be veryparticular in getting his basket from Jeannette. As he did so hewould generally ask some question about the Captain, and Jeannettewould give him answers confidentially,--so that there was a strongfriendship between these two.
"What am I to do about it?" said Mrs. Greenow, as Kate came into thesitting-room one morning, and saw on the table a small hamper linedwith a clean cloth. "It's as much as Jeannette has been able tocarry."
"So it is, ma'am,--quite; and I'm strong in the arm, too, ma'am."
"What am I to do, Kate? He is such a good creature."<
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"And he do admire you both so much," said Jeannette.
"Of course I don't want to offend him for many reasons," said theaunt, looking knowingly at her niece.
"I don't know anything about your reasons, aunt, but if I wereyou, I should leave the basket just as it is till he comes in theafternoon."
"Would you mind seeing him yourself, Kate, and explaining to him thatit won't do to get on in this way. Perhaps you wouldn't mind tellinghim that if he'll promise not to bring any more, you won't object totake this one."
"Indeed, aunt, I can't do that. They're not brought to me."
"Oh, Kate!"
"Nonsense, aunt;--I won't have you say so;--before Jeannette, too."
"I think it's for both, ma'am; I do indeed. And there certainly ain'tany cream to be bought like it in Norwich:--nor yet eggs."
"I wonder what there is in the basket." And the widow lifted upthe corner of the cloth. "I declare if there isn't a turkey poultalready."
"My!" said Jeannette. "A turkey poult! Why, that's worth ten andsixpence in the market if it's worth a penny."
"It's out of the question that I should take upon myself to sayanything to him about it," said Kate.
"Upon my word I don't see why you shouldn't, as well as I," said Mrs.Greenow.
"I'll tell you what, ma'am," said Jeannette: "let me just ask him whothey're for;--he'll tell me anything."
"Don't do anything of the kind, Jeannette," said Kate. "Of course,aunt, they're brought for you. There's no doubt about that. Agentleman doesn't bring cream and turkeys to-- I've never heard ofsuch a thing!"
"I don't see why a gentleman shouldn't bring cream and turkeys to youjust as well as to me. Indeed, he told me once as much himself."
"Then, if they're for me, I'll leave them down outside the frontdoor, and he may find his provisions there." And Kate proceeded tolift the basket off the table.
"Leave it alone, Kate," said Mrs. Greenow, with a voice that wasrather solemn; and which had, too, something of sadness in its tone."Leave it alone. I'll see Mr. Cheesacre myself."
"And I do hope you won't mention my name. It's the most absurd thingin the world. The man never spoke two dozen words to me in his life."
"He speaks to me, though," said Mrs. Greenow.
"I dare say he does," said Kate.
"And about you, too, my dear."
"He doesn't come here with those big flowers in his button-hole fornothing," said Jeannette,--"not if I knows what a gentleman means."
"Of course he doesn't," said Mrs. Greenow.
"If you don't object, aunt," said Kate, "I will write to grandpapaand tell him that I will return home at once."
"What!--because of Mr. Cheesacre?" said Mrs. Greenow. "I don't thinkyou'll be so silly as that, my dear."
On the present occasion Mrs. Greenow undertook that she would seethe generous gentleman, and endeavour to stop the supplies fromhis farmyard. It was well understood that he would call about fouro'clock, when his business in the town would be over; and that hewould bring with him a little boy, who would carry away the basket.At that hour Kate of course was absent, and the widow receivedMr. Cheesacre alone. The basket and cloth were there, in thesitting-room, and on the table were laid out the rich things whichit had contained;--the turkey poult first, on a dish provided in thelodging-house, then a dozen fresh eggs in a soup plate, then thecream in a little tin can, which, for the last fortnight, had passedregularly between Oileymead and the house in the Close, and as towhich Mr. Cheesacre was very pointed in his inquiries with Jeannette.Then behind the cream there were two or three heads of broccoli, anda stick of celery as thick as a man's wrist. Altogether the tributewas a very comfortable assistance to the housekeeping of a ladyliving in a small way in lodgings.
Mr. Cheesacre, when he saw the array on the long sofa-table, knew thathe was to prepare himself for some resistance; but that resistancewould give him, he thought, an opportunity of saying a few words thathe was desirous of speaking, and he did not altogether regret it. "Ijust called in," he said, "to see how you were."
"We are not likely to starve," said Mrs. Greenow, pointing to thedelicacies from Oileymead.
"Just a few trifles that my old woman asked me to bring in," saidCheesacre. "She insisted on putting them up."
"But your old woman is by far too magnificent," said Mrs. Greenow."She really frightens Kate and me out of our wits."
Mr. Cheesacre had no wish that Miss Vavasor's name should bebrought into play upon the occasion. "Dear Mrs. Greenow," said he,"there is no cause for you to be alarmed, I can assure you. Meretrifles;--light as air, you know. I don't think anything of suchthings as these."
"But I and Kate think a great deal of them,--a very great deal, I canassure you. Do you know, we had a long debate this morning whether orno we would return them to Oileymead?"
"Return them, Mrs. Greenow!"
"Yes, indeed: what are women, situated as we are, to do under suchcircumstances? When gentlemen will be too liberal, their liberalitymust be repressed."
"And have I been too liberal, Mrs. Greenow? What is a young turkey anda stick of celery when a man is willing to give everything that hehas in the world?"
"You've got a great deal more in the world, Mr. Cheesacre, than you'dlike to part with. But we won't talk of that, now."
"When shall we talk of it?"
"If you really have anything to say, you had by far better speak toKate herself."
"Mrs. Greenow, you mistake me. Indeed, you mistake me." Just at thismoment, as he was drawing close to the widow, she heard, or fanciedthat she heard, Jeannette's step, and, going to the sitting-roomdoor, called to her maid. Jeannette did not hear her, but the bellwas rung, and then Jeannette came. "You may take these things down,Jeannette," she said. "Mr. Cheesacre has promised that no more shallcome."
"But I haven't promised," said Mr. Cheesacre.
"You will oblige me and Kate, I know;--and, Jeannette, tell MissVavasor that I am ready to walk with her."
Then Mr. Cheesacre knew that he could not say those few words onthat occasion and as the hour of his train was near, he took hisdeparture, and went out of the Close, followed by the little boy,carrying the basket, the cloth, and the tin can.