CHAPTER XVIII.
SPOONER OF SPOON HALL.
Adelaide Palliser was a tall, fair girl, exquisitely made, withevery feminine grace of motion, highly born, and carrying alwaysthe warranty of her birth in her appearance; but with no specialloveliness of face. Let not any reader suppose that therefore shewas plain. She possessed much more than a sufficiency of charm tojustify her friends in claiming her as a beauty, and the demand hadbeen generally allowed by public opinion. Adelaide Palliser wasalways spoken of as a girl to be admired; but she was not one whosecountenance would strike with special admiration any beholder who didnot know her. Her eyes were pleasant and bright, and, being in truthgreen, might, perhaps with propriety, be described as grey. Her nosewas well formed. Her mouth was, perhaps, too small. Her teeth wereperfect. Her chin was somewhat too long, and was on this accountthe defective feature of her face. Her hair was brown and plentiful;but in no way peculiar. No doubt she wore a chignon; but if so shewore it with the special view of being in no degree remarkablein reference to her head-dress. Such as she was,--beauty or nobeauty--her own mind on the subject was made up, and she had resolvedlong since that the gift of personal loveliness had not beenbestowed upon her. And yet after a fashion she was proud of her ownappearance. She knew that she looked like a lady, and she knew alsothat she had all that command of herself which health and strengthcan give to a woman when she is without feminine affectation.
Lady Chiltern, in describing her to Phineas Finn, had said that shetalked Italian, and wrote for the _Times_. The former assertionwas, no doubt, true, as Miss Palliser had passed some years of herchildhood in Florence; but the latter statement was made probablywith reference to her capability rather than her performance. LadyChiltern intended to imply that Miss Palliser was so much bettereducated than young ladies in general that she was able to expressherself intelligibly in her own language. She had been well educated,and would, no doubt, have done the _Times_ credit had the _Times_chosen to employ her.
She was the youngest daughter of the youngest brother of the existingDuke of Omnium, and the first cousin, therefore, of Mr. PlantagenetPalliser, who was the eldest son of the second brother. And as hermother had been a Bavilard there could be no better blood. ButAdelaide had been brought up so far away from the lofty Pallisers andlofty Bavilards as almost to have lost the flavour of her birth. Herfather and mother had died when she was an infant, and she had goneto the custody of a much older half-sister, Mrs. Atterbury, whosemother had been not a Bavilard, but a Brown. And Mr. Atterbury was amere nobody, a rich, erudite, highly-accomplished gentleman, whosefather had made his money at the bar, and whose grandfather hadbeen a country clergyman. Mrs. Atterbury, with her husband, wasstill living at Florence; but Adelaide Palliser had quarrelled withFlorence life, and had gladly consented to make a long visit to herfriend Lady Chiltern.
In Florence she had met Gerard Maule, and the acquaintance had notbeen viewed with favour by the Atterburys. Mrs. Atterbury knewthe history of the Maule family, and declared to her sister thatno good could come from any intimacy. Old Mr. Maule, she said,was disreputable. Mrs. Maule, the mother,--who, according to Mr.Atterbury, had been the only worthy member of the family,--was longsince dead. Gerard Maule's sister had gone away with an Irish cousin,and they were now living in India on the professional income ofa captain in a foot regiment. Gerard Maule's younger brother hadgone utterly to the dogs, and nobody knew anything about him.Maule Abbey, the family seat in Herefordshire, was,--so said Mrs.Atterbury,--absolutely in ruins. The furniture, as all the worldknew, had been sold by the squire's creditors under the sheriff'sorder ten years ago, and not a chair or a table had been put intothe house since that time. The property, which was small,--L2,000a year at the outside,--was, no doubt, entailed on the eldest son;and Gerard, fortunately, had a small fortune of his own, independentof his father. But then he was also a spendthrift,--so said Mrs.Atterbury,--keeping a stable full of horses, for which he could notafford to pay; and he was, moreover, the most insufferably idle manwho ever wandered about the world without any visible occupationfor his hours. "But he hunts," said Adelaide. "Do you call that anoccupation?" asked Mrs. Atterbury with scorn. Now Mrs. Atterburypainted pictures, copied Madonnas, composed sonatas, correspondedwith learned men in Rome, Berlin, and Boston, had been the intimatefriend of Cavour, had paid a visit to Garibaldi on his island withthe view of explaining to him the real condition of Italy,--and wassupposed to understand Bismarck. Was it possible that a woman who sofilled her own life should accept hunting as a creditable employmentfor a young man, when it was admitted to be his sole employment? And,moreover, she desired that her sister Adelaide should marry a certainCount Brudi, who, according to her belief, had more advanced ideasabout things in general than any other living human being. AdelaidePalliser had determined that she would not marry Count Brudi; had,indeed, almost determined that she would marry Gerard Maule, andhad left her brother-in-law's house in Florence after somethinglike a quarrel. Mrs. Atterbury had declined to authorise the visitto Harrington Hall, and then Adelaide had pleaded her age andindependence. She was her own mistress if she so chose to callherself, and would not, at any rate, remain in Florence at thepresent moment to receive the attentions of Signor Brudi. Of theprevious winter she had passed three months with some relatives inEngland, and there she had learned to ride to hounds, had first metGerard Maule, and had made acquaintance with Lady Chiltern. GerardMaule had wandered to Italy after her, appearing at Florence in hisdesultory way, having no definite purpose, not even that of askingAdelaide to be his wife,--but still pursuing her, as though he wantedher without knowing what he wanted. In the course of the Spring,however, he had proposed, and had been almost accepted. But Adelaide,though she would not yield to her sister, had been frightened. Sheknew that she loved the man, and she swore to herself a thousandtimes that she would not be dictated to by her sister;--but was sheprepared to accept the fate which would at once be hers were she nowto marry Gerard Maule? What could she do with a man who had no ideasof his own as to what he ought to do with himself?
Lady Chiltern was in favour of the marriage. The fortune, she said,was as much as Adelaide was entitled to expect, the man was agentleman, was tainted by no vices, and was truly in love. "You hadbetter let them fight it out somewhere else," Lord Chiltern had saidwhen his wife proposed that the invitation to Gerard Maule should berenewed; but Lady Chiltern had known that if "fought out" at all, itmust be fought out at Harrington Hall. "We have asked him to comeback," she said to Adelaide, "in order that you may make up yourmind. If he chooses to come, it will show that he is in earnest; andthen you must take him, or make him understand that he is not to betaken." Gerard Maule had chosen to come; but Adelaide Palliser hadnot as yet quite made up her mind.
Perhaps there is nothing so generally remarkable in the conduct ofyoung ladies in the phase of life of which we are now speaking as thefacility,--it may almost be said audacity,--with which they do makeup their minds. A young man seeks a young woman's hand in marriage,because she has waltzed stoutly with him, and talked pleasantlybetween the dances;--and the young woman gives it, almost withgratitude. As to the young man, the readiness of his action is lessmarvellous than hers. He means to be master, and, by the very natureof the joint life they propose to lead, must take her to his sphereof life, not bind himself to hers. If he worked before he will workstill. If he was idle before he will be idle still; and he probablydoes in some sort make a calculation and strike a balance between hismeans and the proposed additional burden of a wife and children. Butshe, knowing nothing, takes a monstrous leap in the dark, in whicheverything is to be changed, and in which everything is trusted tochance. Miss Palliser, however, differing in this from the majorityof her friends and acquaintances, frightened, perhaps by thoserepresentations of her sister to which she would not altogetheryield, had paused, and was still pausing. "Where should we go andlive if I did marry him?" she said to Lady Chiltern.
"I suppose he has an opinion of his own on that subject?"
"Not in the least, I should think."
"Has he never said anything about it?"
"Oh dear no. Matters have not got so far as that at all;--nor wouldthey ever, out of his own head. If we were married and taken away tothe train he would only ask what place he should take the tickets forwhen he got to the station."
"Couldn't you manage to live at Maule Abbey?"
"Perhaps we might; only there is no furniture, and, as I am told,only half a roof."
"It does seem to be absurd that you two should not make up your mind,just as other people do," said Lady Chiltern. "Of course he is not arich man, but you have known that all along."
"It is not a question of wealth or poverty, but of an utterlylack-a-daisical indifference to everything in the world."
"He is not indifferent to you."
"That is the marvellous part of it," said Miss Palliser.
This was said on the evening of the famous day at Broughton Spinnies,and late on that night Lord Chiltern predicted to his wife thatanother episode was about to occur in the life of their friend.
"What do you think Spooner has just asked me?"
"Permission to fight the Duke, or Mr. Palliser?"
"No,--it's nothing about the hunting. He wants to know if you'd mindhis staying here three or four days longer."
"What a very odd request!"
"It is odd, because he was to have gone to-morrow. I suppose there'sno objection."
"Of course not if you like to have him."
"I don't like it a bit," said Lord Chiltern; "but I couldn't turn himout. And I know what it means."
"What does it mean?"
"You haven't observed anything?"
"I have observed nothing in Mr. Spooner, except an awe-struck horrorat the trapping of a fox."
"He's going to propose to Adelaide Palliser."
"Oswald! You are not in earnest."
"I believe he is. He would have told me if he thought I could givehim the slightest encouragement. You can't very well turn him outnow."
"He'll get an answer that he won't like if he does," said LadyChiltern.
Miss Palliser had ridden well on that day, and so had Gerard Maule.That Mr. Spooner should ride well to hounds was quite a matter ofcourse. It was the business of his life to do so, and he did it withgreat judgment. He hated Maule's style of riding, considering it tobe flashy, injurious to hunting, and unsportsmanlike; and now he hadcome to hate the man. He had, of course, perceived how close were theattentions paid by Mr. Maule to Miss Palliser, and he thought thathe perceived that Miss Palliser did not accept them with thoroughsatisfaction. On his way back to Harrington Hall he made someinquiries, and was taught to believe that Mr. Maule was not a manof very high standing in the world. Mr. Spooner himself had a verypretty property of his own,--which was all his own. There was nodoubt about his furniture, or about the roof at Spoon Hall. He wasSpooner of Spoon Hall, and had been High Sheriff for his county. Hewas not so young as he once had been;--but he was still a young man,only just turned forty, and was his own master in everything. Hecould read, and he always looked at the country newspaper; but a bookwas a thing that he couldn't bear to handle. He didn't think he hadever seen a girl sit a horse better than Adelaide Palliser sat hers,and a girl who rode as she did would probably like a man addicted tohunting. Mr. Spooner knew that he understood hunting, whereas thatfellow Maule cared for nothing but jumping over flights of rails.He asked a few questions that evening of Phineas Finn respectingGerard Maule, but did not get much information. "I don't know wherehe lives;" said Phineas; "I never saw him till I met him here."
"Don't you think he seems sweet upon that girl?"
"I shouldn't wonder if he is."
"She's an uncommonly clean-built young woman, isn't she?" said Mr.Spooner; "but it seems to me she don't care much for Master Maule.Did you see how he was riding to-day?"
"I didn't see anything, Mr. Spooner."
"No, no; you didn't get away. I wish he'd been with you. But she wentuncommon well." After that he made his request to Lord Chiltern, andLord Chiltern, with a foresight quite unusual to him, predicted thecoming event to his wife.
There was shooting on the following day, and Gerard Maule and Mr.Spooner were both out. Lunch was sent down to the covert side, andthe ladies walked down and joined the sportsmen. On this occasion Mr.Spooner's assiduity was remarkable, and seemed to be accepted withkindly grace. Adelaide even asked a question about Trumpeton Wood,and expressed an opinion that her cousin was quite wrong becausehe did not take the matter up. "You know it's the keepers do itall," said Mr. Spooner, shaking his head with an appearance of greatwisdom. "You never can have foxes unless you keep your keepers wellin hand. If they drew the Spoon Hall coverts blank I'd dismiss my manthe next day."
"You know it's the keepers do it all."]
"It mightn't be his fault."
"He knows my mind, and he'll take care that there are foxes. They'vebeen at my stick covert three times this year, and put a brace outeach time. A leash went from it last Monday week. When a man reallymeans a thing, Miss Palliser, he can pretty nearly always do it."Miss Palliser replied with a smile that she thought that to be true,and Mr. Spooner was not slow at perceiving that this afforded goodencouragement to him in regard to that matter which was now weighingmost heavily upon his mind.
On the next day there was hunting again, and Phineas was mounted on ahorse more amenable to persuasion than old Dandolo. There was a fairrun in the morning, and both Phineas and Madame Max were carriedwell. The remarkable event in the day, however, was the riding ofDandolo in the afternoon by Lord Chiltern himself. He had determinedthat the horse should go out, and had sworn that he would ride himover a fence if he remained there making the attempt all night. Fortwo weary hours he did remain, with a groom behind him, spurring thebrute against a thick hedge, with a ditch at the other side of it,and at the end of the two hours he succeeded. The horse at last madea buck leap and went over with a loud grunt. On his way home LordChiltern sold the horse to a farmer for fifteen pounds;--and thatwas the end of Dandolo as far as the Harrington Hall stables wereconcerned. This took place on the Friday, the 8th of February. It wasunderstood that Mr. Spooner was to return to Spoon Hall on Saturday,and on Monday, the 11th, Phineas was to go to London. On the 12ththe Session would begin, and he would once more take his seat inParliament.
"I give you my word and honour, Lady Chiltern," Gerard Maule said tohis hostess, "I believe that oaf of a man is making up to Adelaide."Mr. Maule had not been reticent about his love towards Lady Chiltern,and came to her habitually in all his troubles.
"Chiltern has told me the same thing."
"No!"
"Why shouldn't he see it, as well as you? But I wouldn't believe it."
"Upon my word I believe it's true. But, Lady Chiltern--"
"Well, Mr. Maule."
"You know her so well."
"Adelaide, you mean?"
"You understand her thoroughly. There can't be anything in it; isthere?"
"How anything?"
"She can't really--like him?"
"Mr. Maule, if I were to tell her that you had asked such a questionas that I don't believe that she'd ever speak a word to you again;and it would serve you right. Didn't you call him an oaf?"
"I did."
"And how long has she known him?"
"I don't believe she ever spoke to him before yesterday."
"And yet you think that she will be ready to accept this oaf as herhusband to-morrow! Do you call that respect?"
"Girls do such wonderful strange things. What an impudent ass he mustbe!"
"I don't see that at all. He may be an ass and yet not impudent, orimpudent and yet not an ass. Of course he has a right to speak hismind,--and she will have a right to speak hers."