CHAPTER I.
JULIA BRABAZON.
[Illustration.]
The gardens of Clavering Park were removed some three hundred yardsfrom the large, square, sombre-looking stone mansion which wasthe country-house of Sir Hugh Clavering, the eleventh baronet ofthat name; and in these gardens, which had but little of beauty torecommend them, I will introduce my readers to two of the personageswith whom I wish to make them acquainted in the following story. Itwas now the end of August, and the parterres, beds, and bits of lawnwere dry, disfigured, and almost ugly, from the effects of a longdrought. In gardens to which care and labour are given abundantly,flower-beds will be pretty, and grass will be green, let the weatherbe what it may; but care and labour were but scantily bestowed on theClavering Gardens, and everything was yellow, adust, harsh, and dry.Over the burnt turf towards a gate that led to the house, a lady waswalking, and by her side there walked a gentleman.
"You are going in, then, Miss Brabazon," said the gentleman, and itwas very manifest from his tone that he intended to convey some deepreproach in his words.
"Of course I am going in," said the lady. "You asked me to walk withyou, and I refused. You have now waylaid me, and therefore I shallescape,--unless I am prevented by violence." As she spoke she stoodstill for a moment, and looked into his face with a smile whichseemed to indicate that if such violence were used, within rationalbounds, she would not feel herself driven to great anger.
But though she might be inclined to be playful, he was by no means inthat mood. "And why did you refuse me when I asked you?" said he.
"For two reasons, partly because I thought it better to avoid anyconversation with you."
"That is civil to an old friend."
"But chiefly,"--and now as she spoke she drew herself up, anddismissed the smile from her face, and allowed her eyes to fall uponthe ground;--"but chiefly because I thought that Lord Ongar wouldprefer that I should not roam alone about Clavering Park with anyyoung gentleman while I am down here; and that he might speciallyobject to my roaming with you, were he to know that you and Iwere--old acquaintances. Now I have been very frank, Mr. Clavering,and I think that that ought to be enough."
"You are afraid of him already, then?"
"I am afraid of offending any one whom I love, and especially any oneto whom I owe any duty."
"Enough! Indeed it is not. From what you know of me do you think itlikely that that will be enough?" He was now standing in front ofher, between her and the gate, and she made no effort to leave him.
"And what is it you want? I suppose you do not mean to fight LordOngar, and that if you did you would not come to me."
"Fight him! No; I have no quarrel with him. Fighting him would do nogood."
"None in the least; and he would not fight if you were to ask him;and you could not ask him without being false to me."
"I should have had an example for that, at any rate."
"That's nonsense, Mr. Clavering. My falsehood, if you should chooseto call me false, is of a very different nature, and is pardonable byall laws known to the world."
"You are a jilt,--that is all."
"Come, Harry, don't use hard words,"--and she put her hand kindlyupon his arm. "Look at me, such as I am, and at yourself, and thensay whether anything but misery could come of a match between youand me. Our ages by the register are the same, but I am ten yearsolder than you by the world. I have two hundred a year, and I owe atthis moment six hundred pounds. You have, perhaps, double as much,and would lose half of that if you married. You are an usher at aschool."
"No, madam, I am not an usher at a school."
"Well, well, you know I don't mean to make you angry."
"At the present moment, I am a schoolmaster, and if I remained so, Imight fairly look forward to a liberal income. But I am going to givethat up."
"You will not be more fit for matrimony because you are going to giveup your profession. Now Lord Ongar has--heaven knows what;--perhapssixty thousand a year."
"In all my life I never heard such effrontery,--such barefaced,shameless worldliness!"
"Why should I not love a man with a large income?"
"He is old enough to be your father."
"He is thirty-six, and I am twenty-four."
"Thirty-six!"
"There is the Peerage for you to look at. But, my dear Harry, do younot know that you are perplexing me and yourself too, for nothing?I was fool enough when I came here from Nice, after papa's death, tolet you talk nonsense to me for a month or two."
"Did you or did you not swear that you loved me?"
"Oh, Mr. Clavering, I did not imagine that your strength would havecondescended to take such advantage over the weakness of a woman.I remember no oaths of any kind, and what foolish assertions I mayhave made, I am not going to repeat. It must have become manifest toyou during these two years that all that was a romance. If it be apleasure to you to look back to it, of that pleasure I cannot depriveyou. Perhaps I also may sometimes look back. But I shall never speakof that time again; and you, if you are as noble as I take you to be,will not speak of it either. I know you would not wish to injure me."
"I would wish to save you from the misery you are bringing onyourself."
"In that you must allow me to look after myself. Lord Ongar certainlywants a wife, and I intend to be true to him,--and useful."
"How about love?"
"And to love him, sir. Do you think that no man can win a woman'slove, unless he is filled to the brim with poetry, and has a necklike Lord Byron, and is handsome like your worship? You are veryhandsome, Harry, and you, too, should go into the market and make thebest of yourself. Why should you not learn to love some nice girlthat has money to assist you?"
"Julia!"
"No, sir; I will not be called Julia. If you do, I will be insulted,and leave you instantly. I may call you Harry, as being so muchyounger,--though we were born in the same month,--and as a sort ofcousin. But I shall never do that after to-day."
"You have courage enough, then, to tell me that you have not ill-usedme?"
"Certainly I have. Why, what a fool you would have me be! Look at me,and tell me whether I am fit to be the wife of such a one as you. Bythe time you are entering the world, I shall be an old woman, andshall have lived my life. Even if I were fit to be your mate whenwe were living here together, am I fit, after what I have done andseen during the last two years? Do you think it would really doany good to any one if I were to jilt, as you call it, Lord Ongar,and tell them all,--your cousin, Sir Hugh, and my sister, and yourfather,--that I was going to keep myself up, and marry you when youwere ready for me?"
"You mean to say that the evil is done."
"No, indeed. At the present moment I owe six hundred pounds, and Idon't know where to turn for it, so that my husband may not be dunnedfor my debts as soon as he has married me. What a wife I should havebeen for you;--should I not?"
"I could pay the six hundred pounds for you with money that I haveearned myself,--though you do call me an usher;--and perhaps wouldask fewer questions about it than Lord Ongar will do with all histhousands."
"Dear Harry, I beg your pardon about the usher. Of course, I knowthat you are a fellow of your college, and that St. Cuthbert's, whereyou teach the boys, is one of the grandest schools in England; and Ihope you'll be a bishop; nay,--I think you will, if you make up yourmind to try for it."
"I have given up all idea of going into the church."
"Then you'll be a judge. I know you'll be great and distinguished,and that you'll do it all yourself. You are distinguished already. Ifyou could only know how infinitely I should prefer your lot to mine!Oh, Harry, I envy you! I do envy you! You have got the ball at yourfeet, and the world before you, and can win everything for yourself."
"But nothing is anything without your love."
"Psha! Love, indeed. What could I do for you but ruin you? You knowit as well as I do; but you are selfish enough to wish to continue aromance which would be absolutely destructi
ve to me, though for awhile it might afford a pleasant relaxation to your graver studies.Harry, you can choose in the world. You have divinity, and law, andliterature, and art. And if debarred from love now by the exigenciesof labour, you will be as fit for love in ten years' time as you areat present."
"But I do love now."
"Be a man, then, and keep it to yourself. Love is not to be ourmaster. You can choose, as I say; but I have had no choice,--nochoice but to be married well, or to go out like a snuff of a candle.I don't like the snuff of a candle, and, therefore, I am going to bemarried well."
"And that suffices?"
"It must suffice. And why should it not suffice? You are veryuncivil, cousin, and very unlike the rest of the world. Everybodycompliments me on my marriage. Lord Ongar is not only rich, but he isa man of fashion, and a man of talent."
"Are you fond of race-horses yourself?"
"Very fond of them."
"And of that kind of life?"
"Very fond of it. I mean to be fond of everything that Lord Ongarlikes. I know that I can't change him, and, therefore, I shall nottry."
"You are right there, Miss Brabazon."
"You mean to be impertinent, sir; but I will not take it so. This isto be our last meeting in private, and I won't acknowledge that I aminsulted. But it must be over now, Harry; and here I have been pacinground and round the garden with you, in spite of my refusal just now.It must not be repeated, or things will be said which I do not meanto have ever said of me. Good-by, Harry."
"Good-by, Julia."
"Well, for that once let it pass. And remember this: I have told youall my hopes, and my one trouble. I have been thus open with youbecause I thought it might serve to make you look at things in aright light. I trust to your honour as a gentleman to repeat nothingthat I have said to you."
"I am not given to repeat such things as those."
"I'm sure you are not. And I hope you will not misunderstand thespirit in which they have been spoken. I shall never regret what Ihave told you now, if it tends to make you perceive that we must bothregard our past acquaintance as a romance, which must, from the sternnecessity of things, be treated as a dream which we have dreamt, or apoem which we have read."
"You can treat it as you please."
"God bless you, Harry; and I will always hope for your welfare, andhear of your success with joy. Will you come up and shoot with themon Thursday?"
"What, with Hugh? No; Hugh and I do not hit it off together. If Ishot at Clavering I should have to do it as a sort of head-keeper.It's a higher position, I know, than that of an usher, but it doesn'tsuit me."
"Oh, Harry! that is so cruel! But you will come up to the house. LordOngar will be there on the thirty-first; the day after to-morrow, youknow."
"I must decline even that temptation. I never go into the house whenHugh is there, except about twice a year on solemn invitation--justto prevent there being a family quarrel."
"Good-by, then," and she offered him her hand.
"Good-by, if it must be so."
"I don't know whether you mean to grace my marriage?"
"Certainly not. I shall be away from Clavering, so that the marriagebells may not wound my ears. For the matter of that, I shall be atthe school."
"I suppose we shall meet some day in town."
"Most probably not. My ways and Lord Ongar's will be altogetherdifferent, even if I should succeed in getting up to London. If youever come to see Hermione here, I may chance to meet you in thehouse. But you will not do that often, the place is so dull andunattractive."
"It is the dearest old park."
"You won't care much for old parks as Lady Ongar."
"You don't know what I may care about as Lady Ongar; but as JuliaBrabazon I will now say good-by for the last time." Then they parted,and the lady returned to the great house, while Harry Clavering madehis way across the park towards the rectory.
Three years before this scene in the gardens at Clavering Park, LordBrabazon had died at Nice, leaving one unmarried daughter, the ladyto whom the reader has just been introduced. One other daughter hehad, who was then already married to Sir Hugh Clavering, and LadyClavering was the Hermione of whom mention has already been made.Lord Brabazon, whose peerage had descended to him in a direct linefrom the time of the Plantagenets, was one of those unfortunatenobles of whom England is burdened with but few, who have no meansequal to their rank. He had married late in life, and had diedwithout a male heir. The title which had come from the Plantagenetswas now lapsed; and when the last lord died, about four hundred ayear was divided between his two daughters. The elder had alreadymade an excellent match, as regarded fortune, in marrying Sir HughClavering; and the younger was now about to make a much more splendidmatch in her alliance with Lord Ongar. Of them I do not know that itis necessary to say much more at present.
And of Harry Clavering it perhaps may not be necessary to say muchin the way of description. The attentive reader will have alreadygathered nearly all that should be known of him before he makeshimself known by his own deeds. He was the only son of the ReverendHenry Clavering, rector of Clavering, uncle of the present Sir HughClavering, and brother of the last Sir Hugh. The Reverend HenryClavering, and Mrs. Clavering his wife, and his two daughters, Maryand Fanny Clavering, lived always at Clavering Rectory, on theoutskirts of Clavering Park, at a full mile's distance from thehouse. The church stood in the park, about midway between the tworesidences. When I have named one more Clavering, Captain Clavering,Captain Archibald Clavering, Sir Hugh's brother, and when I shallhave said also that both Sir Hugh and Captain Clavering were men fondof pleasure and fond of money, I shall have said all that I need nowsay about the Clavering family at large.
Julia Brabazon had indulged in some reminiscence of the romance ofher past poetic life when she talked of cousinship between her andHarry Clavering. Her sister was the wife of Harry Clavering's firstcousin, but between her and Harry there was no relationship whatever.When old Lord Brabazon had died at Nice she had come to ClaveringPark, and had created some astonishment among those who knew SirHugh by making good her footing in his establishment. He was notthe man to take up a wife's sister, and make his house her home,out of charity or from domestic love. Lady Clavering, who had beena handsome woman and fashionable withal, no doubt may have had someinfluence; but Sir Hugh was a man much prone to follow his owncourses. It must be presumed that Julia Brabazon had made herselfagreeable in the house, and also probably useful. She had been takento London through two seasons, and had there held up her head amongthe bravest. And she had been taken abroad,--for Sir Hugh did notlove Clavering Park, except during six weeks of partridge shooting;and she had been at Newmarket with them, and at the house of acertain fast hunting duke with whom Sir Hugh was intimate; and atBrighton with her sister, when it suited Sir Hugh to remain alone atthe duke's; and then again up in London, where she finally arrangedmatters with Lord Ongar. It was acknowledged by all the friendsof the two families, and indeed I may say of the three familiesnow--among the Brabazon people, and the Clavering people, and theCourton people,--Lord Ongar's family name was Courton,--that JuliaBrabazon had been very clever. Of her and Harry Clavering together noone had ever said a word. If any words had been spoken between herand Hermione on the subject, the two sisters had been discreet enoughto manage that they should go no further. In those short months ofJulia's romance Sir Hugh had been away from Clavering, and Hermionehad been much occupied in giving birth to an heir. Julia had nowlived past her one short spell of poetry, had written her one sonnet,and was prepared for the business of the world.