CHAPTER XXI. A BIT OF B Y-P L A Y.
Reverses of fortune might be far more easily supported, if they did notentail, as their inevitable consequence, the association with thoseall of whose tastes, habits, and opinions run in a new and differentchannel. It is a terrible aggravation to the loss of those comfortswhich habit has rendered necessaries, to unlearn the usages of a certaincondition, and adopt those of a class beneath us,--or, what is stillworse, engage in the daily, hourly conflict between our means and ourrequirements.
Perhaps Lady Eleanor Darcy and her daughter never really felt themeaning of their changed condition, nor understood its poignancy, tillthey saw themselves as residents of Mrs. Fumbally's boarding-house,whither Mr. Dempsey's polite attentions had conducted them. It was tono want of respect on that lady's part that any portion of thisfeeling could be traced. "The Panther" had really behaved with the mostdignified consideration; and while her new guests were presented asMrs. and Miss Gwynne, intimated, by a hundred little adroit devicesof manner, that their real rank and title were regarded by her asinviolable secrets,--not the less likely to be respected that she washerself ignorant of both. Heaven knows what secret anguish the retentionof these facts cost poor Paul! secrecy being with him a qualitysomething like Acres' courage, which "oozed out of his fingers' ends."Mr. Dempsey hated those miserly souls that can treasure up a fact fortheir own personal enjoyment, and yet never invite a neighbor topartake of it; and it was a very inefficient consolation to him, in thisinstance, to throw a mysterious cloak over the strangers, and, by an airof profound consciousness, seek to impose on the other boarders. Hemade less scruple about what he deemed his own share of the mystery;and scarcely had Mrs. Fumbally performed the honors of the two smallchambers destined for Lady Eleanor and Helen, than Paul followed her tothe little apartment familiarly termed her "den," and shutting the door,with an appearance of deep caution, took his place opposite to her atthe fire.
"Well, Mr. Dempsey," said Mrs. Fumbally, "now that all is doneand settled,--now that I have taken these ladies into the'Establishment,'"--a very favorite designation of Mrs. Fum's when shemeant to be imposing,--"I hope I am not unreasonable iu expecting a fulland complete account from you of who they are, whence they came, and, infact, every particular necessary to satisfy me concerning them."
"Mrs. Gwynne! Miss Gwynne! mother and daughter--Captain Gwynne, thefather, on the recruiting staff in the Isle of Skye, or, if you like itbetter, with his regiment at St. John's. Mrs. G------, a Miss Rickaby,one of the Rickabys of Pwhlmdlwmm, North Wales--ancient family--smallestate--all spent--obliged to live retired--till--till--no matterwhat--a son comes of age--to sign something--or anything that way--"
"This is all fiddle-faddle, Mr. Dempsey," said Mrs. Fum, with anexpression that seemed to say, "Take care how you trifle with me."
"To be sure it is," rejoined Paul; "all lies, every word of it. Whatdo you say, then, if we have her the Widow Gwynne--husband shot atBergen-op-Zoom--"
"I say, Mr. Dempsey, that if you wish me to keep your secret before theother boarders--"
"The best way is never to tell it to you--eh, Mrs. Fum? Well, come, Iwill be open. Name, Gwynne--place of abode unknown--family ditto--meanssupposed to be ample--daughter charming--so very much so, indeed,that if Paul Dempsey were only what he ought--the Dempsey of Dempsey'sGrove--"
"Oh, is that it?" said Mrs. Fumbally, endeavoring to smile,-"is thatit?"
"That's it," rejoined Paul, as he drew up his shirt-collar, and adjustedhis cravat.
"Isn't she very young, Mr. Dempsey?" said Mrs. Fum, slyly.
"Twenty, or thereabouts, I take it," said Paul, carelessly,--"quitesuitable as regards age."
"I never thought you 'd marry, Mr. Dempsey," said Mrs. Fum, with alanguishing look, that contrasted strangely with the habitually shrewishexpression of the "Pauther's" face.
"Can't help it, Mrs. Fum. The last of the Romans! No more Dempseys whenI 'm gone, if I don't. Elder branch all dropped off,--last twig of theyounger myself."
"Ah! these are considerations, indeed!" sighed the lady. "But don't youthink that a person more like yourself in taste--more similar in opinionof the world? She looks proud, Mr. Dempsey; I should say, overbearinglyproud."
"Rather proud myself, if that's all," said Dempsey, drawing himself up,and protruding his chin with a most comic imitation of dignity.
"Only becomingly so, Mr. Dempsey,--a proper sense of self-respect, a duefeeling for your future position in life,--I never saw more than that, Imust say. Now, I could n't help remarking the way that young lady threwherself into the chair, and the glance she gave at the room. Itwas number eight, Mr. Dempsey, with the chintz furniture, and thelooking-glass over the chimney! Well, really you 'd say, it was poorLeonard's room, with the settee bed in the corner,--the look she gaveit!"
"Indeed!" exclaimed Dempsey, who really felt horrified at thisundervaluing judgment of what every boarder regarded as the very sanctumof the Fumbally Temple.
"Truth, every word of it!" resumed Mrs. Fum. "I thought my earsdeceived me, as she said to her mother, 'Oh, it 's all very neat andclean!'--neat and clean, Mr. Dempsey! The elegant rug which I workedmyself--the pointer--and the wild duck."
"Like life, by Jove, if it was n't that the dog has only three legs."
"Perspective, Mr. Dempsey, don't forget its perspective; and if thebird's wings are maroon, I could n't help it, it was the only color tobe had in the town."
"The group is fine,--devilish fine!" said Paul, with the air of one whoseword was final.
"'Neat and clean' were the expressions she used. I could have cried asI heard it." Here the lady, probably in consideration for the omission,wiped her eyes, and dropped her voice to a very sympathetic key."She meant it well, depend upon it, Mrs. Fum, she meant it well."
"And the old lady," resumed Mrs. Fumbally, deaf to every consolation,"lay back in her chair this way, and said, 'Oh, it will all do verywell,--you 'll not find us troublesome, Mrs. Flumary!' I haven't beenthe head of this establishment eight-and-twenty years to be calledFlumary. How these airs are to be tolerated by the other boarders, I'msure is more than I can say."
It appeared more than Mr. Dempsey could say also, if one might pronouncefrom the woe-begone expression of his face; for, up to this momenttotally wrapped up in the mysterious portion of the affair, he had lostsight of all the conflicting interests this sudden advent would callinto activity.
"That wasn't all," continued Mrs. Fumbally; "for when I told themthe dinner-hour was five, the old lady interrupted me with, 'For thepresent, with your permission, we should prefer dining at six.' Did anyone ever hear the like? I 'll have a pretty rebellion in the house, whenit gets out! Mrs. Mackay will have her tea upstairs every night; Mr.Dunlop will always breakfast in bed. I would n't be surprised if MissBoyle stood out for broth in the middle of the day."
"Oh!" exclaimed Paul, holding up both hands in horror.
"I vow and protest, I expect that next!" exclaimed Mrs. Fum, as foldingher arms, and fixing her eyes rigidly on the grate, she sat, the idealof abused and injured benevolence. "Indeed, Mr. Dempsey," said she,after a long silence on both sides, "it would be a great breach of theregard many years of intimacy with you has formed, if I did not say,that your affections are misplaced. Beauty is a perishable gift."
Paul looked at Mrs. Fumbally, and seemed struck with the truth of herremark.
"But the qualities of the miud, Mr. Dempsey, those rare endowments thatmake happy the home and hearth. You 're fond of beef hash with pickledonions," said she, smiling sweetly; "well, you shall have one to-day."
"Good creature!" muttered Paul, while he pressed her handaffectionately. "The best heart in the world!"
"Ah, yes," sighed the lady, half soliloquizing, "conformity oftemper,--the pliancy of the reed,--the tender attachment of the ivy."
Paul coughed, and drew himself up proudly, and, as if a sudden thoughtoccurred to him that he resembled the oak of the forest, he planted hisfeet firmly, and stood stiff and erect.
r /> "You are not half careful enough about yourself, Mr. Dempsey,--neverattend to changing your damp clothes,--and I assure you the climate hererequires it; and when you come in cold and wet, you should always stepin here, on your way upstairs, and take a little something warm andcordial. I don't know if you approve of this," suiting the action to thewords. Mrs. Fum had opened a small cupboard in the wall, and taken outa quaint-looking flask, and a very diminutive glass.
"Nectar, by Jove,--downright nectar!"
"Made with some white currants and ginger," chimed in Mrs. Fum, simply,as if to imply, "See what skill can effect; behold the magic power ofintelligence!"
"White currants and ginger!" echoed Paul, holding out the glass to berefilled.
"A trifle of spirits, of course."
"Of course! could n't be comforting without it."
"That's what poor dear Fumbally always called, 'Ye know, ye know!' Itwas his droll way of saying 'Noyau!'" Here Mrs. F. displayed a conflictof smiles and tears, a perfect April landscape on her features. "He hadsuch spirits!"
"I don't wonder, if he primed himself with this often," said Dempsey,who at last relinquished his glass, but with evident unwillingness.
266]
"He used to say that his was a happy home!" sobbed Mrs. Fum, while shepressed her handkerchief to her face.
Paul did not well know what he should say, or if, indeed, he was calledupon to utter a sentiment at all; but he thought he could have drunkanother glass to the late Fum's memory, if his widow had n't kept such atight grip of the flask.
"Oh, Mr. Dempsey, who could have thought it would come to this?" Thesorrowful drooping of her eyelids, as she spoke, seemed to intimatean allusion to the low state of the decanter, and Dempsey at oncereplied,--
"There's a very honest glass in it still."
"Kind--kind creature!" sobbed Mrs. Fum, as she poured out the last ofthe liquor. And Paul was sorely puzzled, whether the encomium applied tothe defunct or himself. "Do you know, Mr. Dempsey," here she gave a kindof hysterical giggle, that might take any turn,--hilarious, or thereverse, as events should dictate,--"do you know that as I see youthere, standing before the fire, looking so pleasant and cheerful, somuch at home, as a body might say, I can't help fancying a greatresemblance between you and my poor dear Fum. He was older than you,"said she, rapidly, as a slight cloud passed over Paul's features;-"olderand stouter, but he had the same jocose smile, the same merry voice, andeven that little fidgety habit with the hands. I know you 'll forgiveme,--even that was his."
This was in all probability strictly correct, inasmuch as for severalyears before his demise the gifted individual had labored under aperpetual "delirium tremens."
"He rather liked this kind of thing," said Paul, pantomiming the actionof drinking with his now empty glass.
"In moderation,-only in moderation."
"I 've heard that it disagreed with him," rejoined Paul, who, notpleased with his counterpart, resolved on showing a knowledge of hishabits.
"So it did," sighed Mrs. Fum; "and he gave it up in consequence."
"I heard that, too," said Paul; and then muttered to himself, "on themorning he died."
A gentle tap at the door now broke in upon the colloquy, and a veryslatternly servant woman, with bare legs and feet, made her appearance.
"What d'ye want, Biddy?" asked her mistress, in an angry voice. "I 'mjust settling accounts with Mr. Dempsey, and you bounce in as if thehouse was on fire."
"It 's just himsel 's wanted," replied the northern maiden; "the leddiecanna get on ava without him, he maun come up to number 'eight,' as soonas he can."
"I 'm ready," quoth Paul, as he turned to arrange his cravat, and runhis hand through his hair; "I 'm at their service."
"Remember, Mr. Dempsey, remember, that what I've spoken to you this dayis in the strictest confidence. If matters have proceeded far with theyoung lady upstairs, if your heart, if hers be really engaged, forgeteverything,--forget _me_."
Mrs. Fumbally's emotion had so overpowered her towards the end of herspeech, that she rushed into an adjoining closet and clapped-to thedoor, an obstacle that only acted as a sound-board to her sobs, and fromwhich Paul hastened with equal rapidity to escape.
An entire hemisphere might have separated the small chamber where Mr.Dempsey's late interview took place from the apartment on the firstfloor, to which he now was summoned, and so, to do him justice, did Paulhimself feel; and not all the stimulating properties of that pleasantcordial could allay certain tremors of the heart, as he turned thehandle of the door.
Lady Eleanor was seated at a writing-table, and Helen beside her,working, as Mr. Dempsey entered, and, after a variety of salutations,took a chair, about the middle of the room, depositing his hat andumbrella beside him.
"It would seem, Mr. Dempsey," said Lady Eleanor, with a very benignsmile, "it would seem that we have made a very silly mistake; one, Iam bound to say, you are quite exonerated from any share in, and theconfession of which will, doubtless, exhibit my own and my daughter'scleverness in a very questionable light before you. Do you know, Mr.Dempsey, we believed this to be an inn."
"An inn!" broke in Paul, with uplifted hands.
"Yes, and it was only by mere accident we have discovered our error, andthat we are actually in a boarding-house. Pray now, Helen, do not laugh,the blunder is quite provoking enough already."
Why Miss Darcy should laugh, and what there could be to warrant the useof the epithet, "provoking," Paul might have been broken on the wheelwithout being able to guess, while Lady Eleanor went on,--
"Now, it would seem customary for the guests to adopt here certain hoursin common,--breakfasting, dining together, and associating like themembers of one family."
Paul nodded an assent, and she resumed.
"I need scarcely observe to _you_, Mr. Dempsey, how very unsuited eithermyself or Miss Darcy would be to such an assembly, if even presentcircumstances did not more than ever enjoin a life of strictretirement."
"Dear me!" exclaimed Paul in a tone of deprecation, "there never wasanything more select than this. Mother Fum never admits without areference; I can show you the advertisement in the Derry papers. We keptthe Collector out for two months, till he brought us a regular bill ofhealth, as a body might say."
"Could you persuade them to let us remain in 'Quarantine,' then, for afew days?" said Helen, smiling.
"Oh, no! Helen, nothing of the kind; Mr. Dempsey must not be put to anytroublesome negotiations, on our account. There surely must be an hotelof some sort in the town."
"This is a nice mess!" muttered Paul, who began to anticipate some ofthe miseries his good nature might cost him.
"A few days, a week at furthest, I hope, will enable us to communicatewith our law adviser, and decide upon some more suitable abode. Couldyou, then, for the meanwhile, suggest a comfortable inn, or if not, alodging in the town?"
Paul wrung his hands in dismay, but uttered not a syllable.
"To be candid, Mr. Dempsey," said Helen, "my father has a horror ofthese kind of places, and you could recommend us no country inn, howeverhumble, where he would not be better pleased to hear of our takingrefuge."
"But, Fumbally's! the best-known boarding-house in the North."
"I should be sincerely grieved, to be understood as uttering onesyllable in its disparagement," rejoined Lady Eleanor; "I could notask for a more satisfactory voucher of its respectability; but ours arepeculiar circumstances."
"Only a pound a week," struck in Paul, "with extras."
"Nothing could be more reasonable; but pray understand me, I speak ofcourse in great ignorance, but it would appear to me that persons livingtogether in this fashion have a kind of right to know something of thosewho present themselves for the first time amongst them. Now, there aremany reasons why neither my daughter nor myself would like to submit tothis species of inquiry."
"I 'll settle all that," broke in Paul; "leave that to me, and you 'llhave no further trouble about it."
"You
must excuse my reliance even on such discretion," said LadyEleanor, with more hauteur than before.
"Are we to understand that there is neither inn nor lodging-house to befound?" said Helen.
"Plenty of both, but full of bagmen," ejaculated Paul, whosecontrivances were all breaking down beneath him.
"What is to be done?" exclaimed Lady Eleanor to her daughter.
"Lord bless you!" cried Paul, in a whining voice, "if you only come downamongst them with that great frill round your neck you wore the firstday I saw you at 'The Corvy,' you 'll scare them so, they 'll never havecourage to utter a word. There was Miss Daly--when she was here--"
"Miss Daly,-Miss Maria Daly!" exclaimed both ladies together.
"Miss Maria Daly," repeated Dempsey, with an undue emphasis on everysyllable. "She spent the summer with us on the coast."
"Where had she resided up to that time, may I ask?" said Lady Eleanor,hastily.
"At 'The Corvy'--always at 'The Corvy,' until your arrival."
"Oh, Helen, think of this!" whispered Lady Eleanor, in a voice tremulouswith agitation. "Think what sacrifices we have exacted from ourfriends,--and now, to learn that while we stand hesitating aboutencountering the inconveniences of our lot, that we have been subjectinganother to that very same difficulty from which we shrink." Then,turning to Mr. Dempsey, she added,--
"I need not observe, sir, that while I desire no mystery to be thrownaround our arrival here, I will not be the less grateful for anyrestraint the good company may impose on themselves as to inquiriesconcerning us. We are really not worth the attention, and I shouldbe sorry to impose upon kind credulity by any imaginary claim todistinction."
"You'll dine below, then?" asked Paul, far more eager to ascertain thisfact than any reasons that induced it.
Lady Eleanor bowed; and Dempsey, with a face beaming with delight, aroseto withdraw and communicate the happy news to Mrs. Fumbally.