25. THE ROYAL ACADEMY--THE FARNFIELD ESTATE
Ethelberta was a firm believer in the kindly effects of artisticeducation upon the masses. She held that defilement of mind often arosefrom ignorance of eye; and her philanthropy being, by the simple force ofher situation, of that sort which lingers in the neighbourhood of home,she concentrated her efforts in this kind upon Sol and Dan. Accordingly,the Academy exhibition having now just opened, she ordered the brothersto appear in their best clothes at the entrance to Burlington House justafter noontide on the Saturday of the first week, this being the only dayand hour at which they could attend without 'losing a half' and thereforeit was necessary to put up with the inconvenience of arriving at acrowded and enervating time.
When Ethelberta was set down in the quadrangle she perceived the faithfulpair, big as the Zamzummims of old time, standing like sentinels in theparticular corner that she had named to them: for Sol and Dan would assoon have attempted petty larceny as broken faith with their admired lady-sister Ethelberta. They welcomed her with a painfully lavish exhibitionof large new gloves, and chests covered with broad triangular areas ofpadded blue silk, occupying the position that the shirt-front hadoccupied in earlier days, and supposed to be lineally descended from thetie of a neckerchief.
The dress of their sister for to-day was exactly that of a respectableworkman's relative who had no particular ambition in the matter offashion--a black stuff gown, a plain bonnet to match. A veil she worefor obvious reasons: her face was getting well known in London, and ithad already appeared at the private view in an uncovered state, when itwas scrutinized more than the paintings around. But now homely anduseful labour was her purpose.
Catalogue in hand she took the two brothers through the galleries,teaching them in whispers as they walked, and occasionally correctingthem--first, for too reverential a bearing towards the well-dressedcrowd, among whom they persisted in walking with their hats in theirhands and with the contrite bearing of meek people in church; and,secondly, for a tendency which they too often showed towards strayingfrom the contemplation of the pictures as art to indulge in curiousspeculations on the intrinsic nature of the delineated subject, thegilding of the frames, the construction of the skylights overhead, oradmiration for the bracelets, lockets, and lofty eloquence of personsaround them.
'Now,' said Ethelberta, in a warning whisper, 'we are coming near thepicture which was partly painted from myself. And, Dan, when you see it,don't you exclaim "Hullo!" or "That's Berta to a T," or anything at all.It would not matter were it not dangerous for me to be noticed here to-day. I see several people who would recognize me on the leastprovocation.'
'Not a word,' said Dan. 'Don't you be afeard about that. I feel that Ibaint upon my own ground to-day; and wouldn't do anything to cause anupset, drown me if I would. Would you, Sol?'
In this temper they all pressed forward, and Ethelberta could not but begratified at the reception of Ladywell's picture, though it was accordedby critics not very profound. It was an operation of some minutes to getexactly opposite, and when side by side the three stood there theyoverheard the immediate reason of the pressure. 'Farewell, thou art toodear for my possessing' had been lengthily discoursed upon that morningby the Coryphaeus of popular opinion; and the spirit having once beenpoured out sons and daughters could prophesy. But, in truth, Ladywell'swork, if not emphatically original, was happily centred on a middlestratum of taste, and apart from this adventitious help commanded, anddeserved to command, a wide area of appreciation.
While they were standing here in the very heart of the throngEthelberta's ears were arrested by two male voices behind her, whosewords formed a novel contrast to those of the other speakers around.
'Some men, you see, with extravagant expectations of themselves, coollyget them gratified, while others hope rationally and are disappointed.Luck, that's what it is. And the more easily a man takes life the morepersistently does luck follow him.'
'Of course; because, if he's industrious he does not want luck'sassistance. Natural laws will help him instead.'
'Well, if it is true that Ladywell has painted a good picture he has doneit by an exhaustive process. He has painted every possible bad one tillnothing more of that sort is left for him. You know what lady's faceserved as the original to this, I suppose?'
'Mrs. Petherwin's, I hear.'
'Yes, Mrs. Alfred Neigh that's to be.'
'What, that elusive fellow caught at last?'
'So it appears; but she herself is hardly so well secured as yet, itseems, though he takes the uncertainty as coolly as possible. I knewnothing about it till he introduced the subject as we were standing hereon Monday, and said, in an off-hand way, "I mean to marry that lady." Iasked him how. "Easily," he said; "I will have her if there are ahundred at her heels." You will understand that this was quite inconfidence.'
'Of course, of course.' Then there was a slight laugh, and thecompanions proceeded to other gossip.
Ethelberta, calm and compressed in manner, sidled along to extricateherself, not daring to turn round, and Dan and Sol followed, till theywere all clear of the spot. The brothers, who had heard the wordsequally well with Ethelberta, made no remark to her upon them, assumingthat they referred to some peculiar system of courtship adopted in highlife, with which they had rightly no concern.
Ethelberta ostensibly continued her business of tutoring the youngworkmen just as before, though every emotion in her had been put on thealert by this discovery. She had known that Neigh admired her; yet hispresumption in uttering such a remark as he was reported to have uttered,confidentially or otherwise, nearly took away her breath. Perhaps it wasnot altogether disagreeable to have her breath so taken away.
'I mean to marry that lady.' She whispered the words to herself twentytimes in the course of the afternoon. Sol and Dan were left considerablylonger to their private perceptions of the false and true in art thanthey had been earlier in the day.
When she reached home Ethelberta was still far removed in herreflections; and it was noticed afterwards that about this time in hercareer her openness of manner entirely deserted her. She mostly wassilent as to her thoughts, and she wore an air of unusual stillness. Itwas the silence and stillness of a starry sky, where all is force andmotion. This deep undecipherable habit sometimes suggested, though itdid not reveal, Ethelberta's busy brain to her sisters, and they said toone another, 'I cannot think what's coming to Berta: she is not so niceas she used to be.'
The evening under notice was passed desultorily enough after thediscovery of Neigh's self-assured statement. Among other things that shedid after dark, while still musingly examining the probabilities of thereport turning out true, was to wander to the large attic where thechildren slept, a frequent habit of hers at night, to learn if they weresnug and comfortable. They were talking now from bed to bed, the personunder discussion being herself. Herself seemed everywhere to-day.
'I know that she is a fairy,' Myrtle was insisting, 'because she must be,to have such pretty things in her house, and wear silk dresses such asmother and we and Picotee haven't got, and have money to give us wheneverwe want it.'
'Emmeline says perhaps she knows the fairy's godmother, and is not afairy herself, because Berta is too tall for a real fairy.'
'She must be one; for when there was a notch burnt in the hem of mypretty blue frock she said it should be gone in the morning if I would goto bed and not cry; and in the morning it was gone, and all nice andstraight as new.'
Ethelberta was recalling to mind how she had sat up and repaired thedamage alluded to by cutting off half an inch of the skirt all round andhemming it anew, when the breathing of the children became regular, andthey fell asleep. Here were bright little minds ready for a training,which without money and influence she could never give them. The wisdomwhich knowledge brings, and the power which wisdom may bring, she hadalways assumed would be theirs in her dreams for their social elevation.By what means were these things to be ensured to th
em if her skill inbread-winning should fail her? Would not a well-contrived marriage be ofservice? She covered and tucked in one more closely, lifted another uponthe pillow and straightened the soft limbs to an easy position; then satdown by the window and looked out at the flashing stars. Thoughts ofNeigh's audacious statement returned again upon Ethelberta. He had saidthat he meant to marry her. Of what standing was the man who had utteredsuch an intention respecting one to whom a politic marriage had becomealmost a necessity of existence?
She had often heard Neigh speak indefinitely of some estate--'my littleplace' he had called it--which he had purchased no very long time ago.All she knew was that its name was Farnfield, that it lay thirty or fortymiles out of London in a south-westerly direction, a railway station inthe district bearing the same name, so that there was probably a villageor small town adjoining. Whether the dignity of this landed property wasthat of domain, farmstead, allotment, or garden-plot, Ethelberta had notthe slightest conception. She was almost certain that Neigh never livedthere, but that might signify nothing. The exact size and value of theestate would, she mused, be curious, interesting, and almost necessaryinformation to her who must become mistress of it were she to allow himto carry out his singularly cool and crude, if tender, intention.Moreover, its importance would afford a very good random sample of hisworldly substance throughout, from which alone, after all, could the truespirit and worth and seriousness of his words be apprehended.Impecuniosity may revel in unqualified vows and brim over withconfessions as blithely as a bird of May, but such careless pleasures arenot for the solvent, whose very dreams are negotiable, and are expressedwith due care accordingly.
That Neigh had used the words she had far more than prima-facieappearances for believing. Neigh's own conduct towards her, thoughpeculiar rather than devoted, found in these words alone a reasonablekey. But, supposing the estate to be such a verbal hallucination as, forinstance, hers had been at Arrowthorne, when her poor, unprogressive,hopelessly impracticable Christopher came there to visit her, and was sowonderfully undeceived about her social standing: what a fiasco, and whata cuckoo-cry would his utterances about marriage seem then. Christopherhad often told her of his expectations from 'Arrowthorne Lodge,' and ofthe blunders that had resulted in consequence. Had not Ethelberta'saffection for Christopher partaken less of lover's passion than of old-established tutelary tenderness she might have been reminded by thisreflection of the transcendent fidelity he had shown under that trial--assevere a trial, considering the abnormal, almost morbid, development ofthe passion for position in present-day society, as can be prepared formen who move in the ordinary, unheroic channels of life.
By the following evening the consideration of this possibility, thatNeigh's position might furnish scope for such a disillusive discovery byherself as hers had afforded to Christopher, decoyed Ethelberta into acurious little scheme. She was piqued into a practical undertaking bythe man who could say to his friend with such sangfroid, 'I mean to marrythat lady.'
Merely telling Picotee to prepare for an evening excursion, of which shewas to talk to no one, Ethelberta made ready likewise, and they left thehouse in a cab about half-an-hour before sunset, and drove to theWaterloo Station.
With the decline and departure of the sun a fog gathered itself out ofthe low meadow-land that bordered the railway as they went along towardsthe west, stretching over it like a placid lake, till at the end of thejourney, the mist became generally pervasive, though not dense. Avoidingobservation as much as they conveniently could, the two sisters walkedfrom the long wooden shed which formed the station here, into the rheumyair and along the road to the open country. Picotee occasionallyquestioned Ethelberta on the object of the strange journey: she did notquestion closely, being satisfied that in such sure hands as Ethelberta'sshe was safe.
Deeming it unwise to make any inquiry just yet beyond the simple one ofthe way to Farnfield, Ethelberta led her companion along a newly-fencedroad across a heath. In due time they came to an ornamental gate with acurved sweep of wall on each side, signifying the entrance to someenclosed property or other. Ethelberta, being quite free from anydigested plan for encouraging Neigh in his resolve to wive, was startledto find a hope in her that this very respectable beginning before theireyes was the entrance to the Farnfield property: that she hoped it wasnevertheless unquestionable. Just beyond lay a turnpike-house, where wasdimly visible a woman in the act of putting up a shutter to the frontwindow.
Compelled by this time to come to special questions, Ethelbertainstructed Picotee to ask of this person if the place they had justpassed was the entrance to Farnfield Park. The woman replied that itwas. Directly she had gone indoors Ethelberta turned back again towardsthe park gate.
'What have we come for, Berta?' said Picotee, as she turned also.
'I'll tell you some day,' replied her sister.
It was now much past eight o'clock, and, from the nature of the evening,dusk. The last stopping up-train was about ten, so that half-an-hourcould well be afforded for looking round. Ethelberta went to the gate,which was found to be fastened by a chain and padlock.
'Ah, the London season,' she murmured.
There was a wicket at the side, and they entered. An avenue of young firtrees three or four feet in height extended from the gate into the mist,and down this they walked. The drive was not in very good order, and thetwo women were frequently obliged to walk on the grass to avoid the roughstones in the carriage-way. The double line of young firs now abruptlyterminated, and the road swept lower, bending to the right, immediatelyin front being a large lake, calm and silent as a second sky. They couldhear from somewhere on the margin the purl of a weir, and around wereclumps of shrubs, araucarias and deodars being the commonest.
Ethelberta could not resist being charmed with the repose of the spot,and hastened on with curiosity to reach the other side of the pool,where, by every law of manorial topography, the mansion would be situate.The fog concealed all objects beyond a distance of twenty yards orthereabouts, but it was nearly full moon, and though the orb was hidden,a pale diffused light enabled them to see objects in the foreground.Reaching the other side of the lake the drive enlarged itself mostlegitimately to a large oval, as for a sweep before a door, a pile ofrockwork standing in the midst.
But where should have been the front door of a mansion was simply a roughrail fence, about four feet high. They drew near and looked over.
In the enclosure, and on the site of the imaginary house, was anextraordinary group. It consisted of numerous horses in the last stageof decrepitude, the animals being such mere skeletons that at firstEthelberta hardly recognized them to be horses at all; they seemed ratherto be specimens of some attenuated heraldic animal, scarcely thick enoughthrough the body to throw a shadow: or enlarged castings of the fire-dogof past times. These poor creatures were endeavouring to make a mealfrom herbage so trodden and thin that scarcely a wholesome bladeremained; the little that there was consisted of the sourer sorts commonon such sandy soils, mingled with tufts of heather and sprouting ferns.
'Why have we come here, dear Berta?' said Picotee, shuddering.
'I hardly know,' said Ethelberta.
Adjoining this enclosure was another and smaller one, formed of highboarding, within which appeared to be some sheds and outhouses.Ethelberta looked through the crevices, and saw that in the midst of theyard stood trunks of trees as if they were growing, with branches alsoextending, but these were sawn off at the points where they began to beflexible, no twigs or boughs remaining. Each torso was not unlike a hugehat-stand, and suspended to the pegs and prongs were lumps of somesubstance which at first she did not recognize; they proved to be achronological sequel to the previous scene. Horses' skulls, ribs,quarters, legs, and other joints were hung thereon, the whole forming ahuge open-air larder emitting not too sweet a smell.
But what Stygian sound was this? There had arisen at the moment upon themute and sleepy air a varied howling from a hundred tongues. It h
adburst from a spot close at hand--a low wooden building by a stream whichfed the lake--and reverberated for miles. No further explanation wasrequired.
'We are close to a kennel of hounds,' said Ethelberta, as Picotee heldtightly to her arm. 'They cannot get out, so you need not fear. Theyhave a horrid way of suddenly beginning thus at different hours of thenight, for no apparent reason: though perhaps they hear us. These poorhorses are waiting to be killed for their food.'
The experience altogether, from its intense melancholy, was verydepressing, almost appalling to the two lone young women, and theyquickly retraced their footsteps. The pleasant lake, the purl of theweir, the rudimentary lawns, shrubberies, and avenue, had changed theircharacter quite. Ethelberta fancied at that moment that she could nothave married Neigh, even had she loved him, so horrid did his belongingsappear to be. But for many other reasons she had been gradually feelingwithin this hour that she would not go out of her way at a beck from aman whose interest was so unimpassioned.
Thinking no more of him as a possible husband she ceased to be afraid tomake inquiries about the peculiarities of his possessions. In the high-road they came on a local man, resting from wheeling a wheelbarrow, andEthelberta asked him, with the air of a countrywoman, who owned theestate across the road.
'The man owning that is one of the name of Neigh,' said the native,wiping his face. ''Tis a family that have made a very large fortune bythe knacker business and tanning, though they be only sleeping partnersin it now, and live like lords. Mr. Neigh was going to pull down the oldhuts here, and improve the place and build a mansion--in short, he wentso far as to have the grounds planted, and the roads marked out, and thefish-pond made, and the place christened Farnfield Park; but he did nomore. "I shall never have a wife," he said, "so why should I want ahouse to put her in?" He's a terrible hater of women, I hear,particularly the lower class.'
'Indeed!'
'Yes, and since then he has let half the land to the Honourable Mr.Mountclere, a brother of Lord Mountclere's. Mr. Mountclere wanted thespot for a kennel, and as the land is too poor and sandy for cropping,Mr. Neigh let him have it. 'Tis his hounds that you hear howling.'
They passed on. 'Berta, why did we come down here?' said Picotee.
'To see the nakedness of the land. It was a whim only, and as it willend in nothing, it is not worth while for me to make furtherexplanation.'
It was with a curious sense of renunciation that Ethelberta wenthomeward. Neigh was handsome, grim-natured, rather wicked, and anindifferentist; and these attractions interested her as a woman. But thenews of this evening suggested to Ethelberta that herself and Neigh weretoo nearly cattle of one colour for a confession on the matter of lineageto be well received by him; and without confidence of every sort on thenature of her situation, she was determined to contract no union at all.The sympathy of unlikeness might lead the scion of some family, hollowand fungous with antiquity, and as yet unmarked by a mesalliance, to bewon over by her story; but the antipathy of resemblance would beineradicable.