Chapter Twenty-five
When Grandcourt learnt that Gwendolen had left Leubronn, he pronounced that resort a beastly hole: which Mr. Lush understood to mean that his patron intended straightway to return to Diplow. Still, Grandcourt loitered through the next day without giving any orders about leaving; he lingered on the terrace, in the gambling-rooms, in the reading-room, occupying himself in being indifferent to everybody and everything around him.
When he met Lady Mallinger, however, he took the trouble to raise his hat and make conversation. Lady Mallinger had a secret objection to Grandcourt, who she felt was a large living sign of her failure as a wife in not having presented Sir Hugo with a son.
Deronda, too, had a greeting from Grandcourt, for which he was not grateful, though he took care to return it with perfect civility. Thinking that but for his father’s fault, Grandcourt’s prospects might have been his, he was proudly resolute not to behave in any way that might be interpreted as irritation on that score. He was determined not to descend into rancour, but to cling to kindlier affections.
Nonetheless Grandcourt did believe that Deronda, poor devil, who he had no doubt was his cousin, inwardly winced under their mutual position; which made Deronda’s presence agreeable to him. His pet dogs were not the only beings that Grandcourt liked to feel his power over by making them jealous. Hence he exchanged civil words with Deronda on the terrace about the hunting round Diplow, and even said, “You had better come over when the season begins.”
Lush amused himself in gossiping with Sir Hugo and in answering his questions about Grandcourt’s affairs, enjoying speaking freely of a tyrannous patron behind his back. Sir Hugo willingly inclined his ear to a little good-humoured scandal, but kept any gossip to himself. Whatever knowledge he had of his nephew’s secrets, he had never told Deronda.
“Well, let me know the turn of events,” said Sir Hugo to Lush, “if this marriage seems likely to come off after all, or if anything else happens to make him want money. My plan for him to rent Diplow to me would be better than burdening Ryelands.”
“That’s true,” said Lush, “only it must not be urged on him – just placed in his way that the scent may tickle him. Grandcourt is not a man to be led by what makes for his own benefit; especially if you let him see that it benefits you too. I’ve kept by him for a good fifteen years now. He would not easily get anyone else to fill my place. He’s a peculiar character, is Henleigh Grandcourt; however, I’m attached to him; and it would be a good deal worse for him without me.”
Grandcourt’s procrastination ended the next morning with his question–
“Are you making the arrangements for our starting by the Paris train?”
“I didn’t know you meant to start,” said Lush.
“You might have known,” said Grandcourt, looking at his cigar, and speaking in that lowered tone which he used to express disgust. “Just see to everything, will you? and mind no brute gets into the same carriage with us.”
In consequence they were at Paris the next day; but here Lush was gratified by the command that he should go straight on to Diplow and see that everything was right, while Grandcourt remained behind for several days.
Lush used the interim actively, not only in carrying out Grandcourt’s orders about the household, but in learning all he could of Gwendolen, and how things were going on at Offendene. He felt that the effect of the news of the family misfortunes on Grandcourt was quite incalculable. The girl’s poverty might make her more likely to accept him, and remove his objection to risking a repulse; on the other hand, the certainty of acceptance was just the sort of thing to make him lapse.
Lush had observed his patron for many years, and knew him well; but he was unpredictable. He might behave with apparent magnanimity, in determining to marry the penniless girl; but Lush had some general certainties about Grandcourt, and one was that generosity was most unlikely to occur in him. Of what use, however, is a general certainty, when what you need to know is the particular path that a man will take? Lush would have been happy for Grandcourt to marry an heiress, or Mrs. Glasher: one match would have brought immediate abundance, and the other the wife’s gratitude, for Lush had always been Mrs. Glasher’s friend. He felt himself justified in doing his utmost to hinder a marriage with a girl who was likely to bring nothing but trouble to her husband, and annoyance to her husband’s old companion, whose future Mr. Lush earnestly wished to make as easy as possible.
On his first day at Diplow, Grandcourt was occupied with the stables, and ordered a groom to put a side-saddle on Criterion. This made Lush consider whether he should incur the ticklish consequences of speaking; and the next morning he had almost resolved to let drop the interesting facts about Gwendolen and her family, if Grandcourt was in a good mood, just to see how they would work.
But Grandcourt did not enter into talk: no fish could have maintained a more unwinking silence. After reading his letters he gave various orders to be executed by Lush, who accordingly rose to leave the room. Before he was out of the door Grandcourt turned his head slightly and gave a languid “Oh.”
“What is it?” said Lush, who did not take his dusty puddings with a respectful air.
“Shut the door, will you? I can’t speak into the corridor.”
Lush closed the door.
After a little pause Grandcourt said, “Is Miss Harleth at Offendene?” He was quite certain that Lush would have inquired about her.
“I hardly know,” said Lush, carelessly. “The family’s utterly done up. They’ve lost all their money. The poor mother hasn’t a penny, it seems. She and the girls have to huddle in a little cottage like a labourer’s.”
“Don’t lie to me, if you please,” said Grandcourt, in his lowest audible tone. “It’s not amusing, and it answers no other purpose.”
“What do you mean?” said Lush, nettled. “It’s no invention of mine. I have heard the story from several.”
“I don’t mean that. Is Miss Harleth there, or is she not?”
“I can’t tell,” said Lush, rather sulkily. “She may have left; I heard she had taken a situation as governess.”
“Send Hutchins to inquire whether she will be there tomorrow.”
Lush did not move. Like many persons who have thought over beforehand what they shall say in given cases, he was impelled to say some of those prearranged things before the cases were given. Grandcourt was likely to get into a scrape so tremendous that it was impossible not to remonstrate; but Lush retained enough caution to use a tone of rational friendliness.
“It would be as well to remember, Grandcourt, that there can be none of the ordinary flirting now. You must make up your mind whether you wish to be accepted; and more than that, how you would like being refused. You can’t be philandering after her again for six weeks.”
Grandcourt said nothing, but began to light another cigar. Lush took this as a good sign, and continued.
“Everything has a more serious look now than before. There is her family to be provided for. It will be a confoundedly hampering affair. Marriage will pin you down; and in point of money you have not much elbow-room. If there were anything to be gained by the marriage, that would be different.”
Grandcourt took his cigar out of his mouth, and looking steadily at the end, said–
“I knew that you objected to my marrying Miss Harleth. But I never considered that a reason against it.”
“I never supposed you did. But you couldn’t make up your mind before. It’s impossible you can care much about her. However, what I wished to point out to you was, that there can be no shilly-shally now.”
“I don’t intend that there should be,” said Grandcourt, fixing him with narrow eyes. “I dare say it’s disagreeable to you. But if you suppose I care a damn for that you are most stupendously mistaken.”
“Oh, well,” said Lush, rising with his hands in his pockets, “if you have made up your mind! only there’s another aspect of the affair. I’m not so sure the young lady can be co
unted on. She had her reasons for running away before.” Lush’s temper at this moment urged him to risk a quarrel. “She had her reasons,” he repeated more significantly.
“I had come to that conclusion,” said Grandcourt with irony.
“Yes, but I hardly think you know what her reasons were.”
“You do, apparently,” said Grandcourt, not betraying by so much as an eyelash that he cared for the reasons.
“Yes, and you had better know too. I would lay odds against her accepting you. She saw Lydia in Cardell Chase and heard the whole story.”
Grandcourt made no immediate answer, and only went on smoking. At length he looked at Lush again and said contemptuously, “What follows?”
Here certainly was a “checkmate” in answer to Lush’s “check.” He shrugged slightly and was going to walk away, when Grandcourt said, as quietly as if nothing had occurred, “Push that pen and paper over here, will you?”
No thunderous superior could have exercised the imperious spell that Grandcourt did. The pen and paper were pushed to him, and he scrawled a brief note.
“Let Hutchins take it at once, will you?” said Grandcourt.
As Lush had expected, the letter was addressed to Miss Harleth, Offendene. When his irritation had cooled, he was glad there had been no explosive quarrel; though he felt sure that somehow or other he was intended to pay. It was clear that he had only hardened Grandcourt’s determination. But as to the particular movements that made this process in his baffling mind, Lush despaired of a theory.