Read The Tenants of Malory, Volume 3 Page 6


  CHAPTER VI.

  TOM HAS A "TALK" WITH THE ADMIRAL.

  "WILL _you_ tell her?" whispered Sedley to Agnes.

  "Oh, no. Do _you_," she entreated.

  They both looked at Charity, who was preparing the little dog's supperof bread and milk in a saucer.

  "I'll go in and see papa, and you shall speak to her," said Agnes.

  Which Tom Sedley did, so much to her amazement that she set the saucerdown on the table beside her, and listened, and conversed for half anhour; and the poodle's screams, and wild jumping and clawing at herelbow, at last reminded her that he had been quite forgotten.

  So, while its mistress was apologising earnestly to poor Bijou, andsuperintending his attentions to the bread and milk, now placed uponthe floor, in came Agnes, and up got Charity, and kissed her with afrank, beaming smile, and said,--

  "I'm _excessively_ glad, Agnes. I was always _so_ fond of ThomasSedley; and I _wonder_ we never thought of it before."

  They were all holding hands in a ring by this time.

  "And what do you think Mr. Etherage will say?" inquired Tom.

  "Papa! why of _course_ he will be _delighted_," said Miss Charity. "Helikes you _extremely_."

  "But you know, Agnes might do so much better. She's such a treasure,there's no one that would not be proud of her, and no one could helpfalling in love with her, and the Ad---- I mean Mr. Etherage, maythink me so presumptuous; and, you know, he may think me quite toopoor."

  "If you mean to say that papa would object to you because you haveonly four hundred a year, you think most meanly of him. I know _I_should not like to be connected with anybody that I thought so meanlyof, because that kind of thing I look upon as really _wicked_; and Ishould be sorry to think papa was wicked. I'll go in and tell him allthat has happened this moment."

  In an awful suspense, pretty Agnes and Tom Sedley, with her hand inboth his, stood side by side, looking earnestly at the double doorwhich separated them from this conference.

  In a few minutes they heard Vane Etherage's voice raised to a pitchof testy bluster, and then Miss Charity's rejoinder with shrillemphasis.

  "Oh! gracious goodness! he's very angry. What shall we do?" exclaimedpoor little Agnes, in wild helplessness.

  "I _knew_ it--I _knew_ it--I _said_ how it would be--he can't endurethe idea, he thinks it such audacity. I knew he must, and I reallythink I shall lose my reason. I could not--I _could_ not live. Oh!Agnes, I _could_n't if he prevents it."

  In came Miss Charity, very red and angry.

  "He's just in one of his odd tempers. I don't mind one _word_ he saysto-night. He'll be quite different, you'll _see_, in the morning.We'll sit up here, and have a good talk about it, till it's time foryou to go; and you'll see I'm quite right. I'm _surprised_," shecontinued, with severity, "at his talking as he did to-night. Iconsider it quite worldly and _wicked_! But I contented myself withtelling him that he did not think one word of what he said, and thathe _knew_ he didn't, and that he'd tell me so in the morning; andinstead of feeling it, as I thought he would, he said somethingintolerably rude."

  Old Etherage, about an hour later, when they were all in animateddebate, shuffled to the door, and put in his head, and lookedsurprised to see Tom, who looked alarmed to see him. And the oldgentleman bid them all a glowering good night, and shortly afterwardsthey heard him wheeled away to his bed-room, and were relieved.

  They sat up awfully late, and the old servant, who poked into the roomoftener than he was wanted towards the close of their sitting, lookedwan and bewildered with drowsiness; and at last Charity, struck by theghastly resignation of his countenance, glanced at the French clockover the chimney-piece, and ejaculated--

  "Why, merciful goodness! is it possible? A quarter to one! It _can'tpossibly be_. Thomas Sedley, _will_ you look at your watch, and tellus what o'clock it really is?"

  His watch corroborated the French clock.

  "_If_ papa heard this! I really can't the least _conceive_ how ithappened. I did not think it could have been _eleven_. Well, it is_undoubtedly_ the _oddest_ thing that _ever_ happened in this house!"

  In the morning, between ten and eleven, when Tom Sedley appeared againat the drawing-room windows, he learned from Charity, in her ownemphatic style of narration, what had since taken place, which was nota great deal, but still was uncomfortably ambiguous.

  She had visited her father at his breakfast in the study, and promptlyintroduced the subject of Tom Sedley, and he broke into this line ofobservation--

  "I'd like to know what the deuce Tom Sedley means by talking ofbusiness to girls. I'd like to know it. I say, if he has anything tosay, why doesn't he _say_ it, that's what _I_ say. Here I _am_. Whathas he to _say_. I don't object to hear him, be it sense or be itnonsense--out with it! That's my maxim; and be it sense or be itnonsense, I won't have it at second-_hand_. That's _my_ idea."

  Acting upon this, Miss Charity insisted that he ought to see Mr.Etherage; and, with a beating heart, he knocked at the study door, andasked an audience.

  "Come in," exclaimed the resonant voice of the Admiral. And Tom Sedleyobeyed.

  The Admiral extended his hand, and greeted Tom kindly, but gravely.

  "Fine day, Mr. Sedley; very fine, sir. It's an odd thing, Tom Sedley,but there's more really fine weather up here, at Hazelden, thananywhere else in Wales. More sunshine, and a _deal_ less rain. You'dhardly believe, for you'd fancy on this elevated ground we shouldnaturally have _more_ rain, but it's _less_, by several inches, thananywhere else in Wales! And there's next to no damp--the hygrometertells _that_. And a curious thing, you'll have a southerly wind uphere when it's blowing from the east on the estuary. You can see it,by Jove! Now just look out of that window; did you ever see suchsunshine as that? There's a clearness in the air up here--at the_other_ side, if you go up, you get _mist_--but there's somethingabout it here that I would not change for any place in the world."

  You may be sure Tom did not dispute any of these points.

  "By Jove, Tom Sedley, it would be a glorious day for a sail round thepoint of Penruthyn. I'd have been down with the tide, sir, thismorning if I had been as I was ten years ago; but a fellow doesn'tlike to be lifted into his yacht, and the girls did not care forsailing; so I sold her. There wasn't such a boat--take her foreverything--in the _world_--_never_!"

  "The _Feather_; wasn't she, sir?" said Tom.

  "The _Feather_! that she was, sir. A name pretty well known, I ventureto think. Yes, the _Feather_ was her name."

  "I _have_, sir; yes, indeed, often heard her spoken of," said Tom, whohad heard one or two of the boatmen of Cardyllian mention her with aguarded sort of commendation. I never could learn, indeed, that therewas anything very remarkable about the boat; but Tom would just thenhave backed any assertion of the honest Admiral's with a loyalalacrity, bordering, I am afraid, upon unscrupulousness.

  "There are the girls going out with their trowels, going to poke amongthose flowers; and certainly, I'll do them justice to say, theirgarden prospers. I don't see such flowers _any_where; do you?"

  "_Nowhere!_" said Tom, with enthusiasm.

  "By, there they're at it--grubbing and raking. And, by-the-by, Tom,what was that? Sit down for a minute."

  Tom felt as if he was going to choke, but he sat down.

  "What was that--some nonsense Charity was telling me last night?"

  Thus invited, poor Sedley, with many hesitations, and wanderings, andfalterings, did get through his romantic story. And Mr. Etherage didnot look pleased by the recital; on the contrary, he carried his headunusually high, and looked hot and minatory, but he did not explode.He continued looking on the opposite wall, as he had done as if hewere eyeing a battle there, and he cleared his voice.

  "As I understand it, sir, there's not an income to make it at allprudent. I don't want my girls to marry; I should, in fact, miss themvery much; but if they do, there ought to be a settlement, don't yousee? there should be a settlement, for _I_ can't do so much for themas people suppose. The proper
ty is settled, and the greater part goesto my grand-nephew after me; and I've invested, as you know, all mystock and money in the quarry at Llanrwyd; and if she married you, sheshould live in London the greater part of the year. And I don't seehow you could get on upon what you both have; I don't, sir. And I mustsay, I think you ought to have spoken to me before paying youraddresses, sir. I don't think that's unreasonable; on the contrary, Ithink it _reasonable, perfectly_ so, and only right and fair. And Imust go further, sir; I must say this, I don't see, sir, without aproper competence, what pretensions you had to address my child."

  "None, sir; none in the world, Mr. Etherage. I know, sir, I've beenthinking of my presumption ever since. I betrayed myself into it, sir;it was a kind of surprise. If I had reflected I should have come toyou, sir; but--but you have no idea, sir, how I adore her." Tom's eyewandered after her through the window, among the flowers. "Or what itwould be to me to--to have to"----

  Tom Sedley faltered, and bit his lip, and started up quickly andlooked at an engraving of old Etherage's frigate, which hung on thestudy wall.

  He looked at it for some time steadfastly. Never was man so affectedby the portrait of a frigate, you would have thought. Vane Etheragesaw him dry his eyes stealthily two or three times, and the oldgentleman coughed a little, and looked out of the window, and wouldhave got up, if he could, and stood close to it.

  "It's a beautiful day, certainly; wind coming round a bit to thesouth, though--south by east; that's always a squally wind with us;and--and--I assure you I like you, Tom; upon my honour I do, TomSedley--better, sir, than any young fellow I know. I think I _do_--Iam _sure_, in fact, I do. But this thing--it wouldn't do--it reallywouldn't; no, Tom Sedley, it wouldn't _do_; if you reflect you'll seeit. But, of course, you may get on in the world. Rome wasn't built ina day."

  "It's very kind of you, sir; but the time's so long, and so manychances," said Sedley, with a sigh like a sob; "and when I go away,sir, the sooner I die, the happier for me."

  Tom turned again quickly toward the frigate--the _Vulcan_--and oldEtherage looked out of the window once more, and up at the clouds.

  "Yes," said the admiral, "it will; we shall have it from south byeast. And, d'ye hear, Tom Sedley? I--I've been thinking there's noneed to make any fuss about this--this thing; just let it be as if youhad never said a word about it, do you mind, and come here just asusual. Let us put it out of our heads; and if you find mattersimprove, and still wish it, there's nothing to prevent your speakingto me; only Agnes is perfectly free, you understand, and you are notto make any change in your demeanour--a--or--I mean to be more with mydaughters, or anything _marked_, you understand. People begin to talkhere, you know, in the club-house, on very slight grounds!and--and--you understand now; and there mustn't be any nonsense; and Ilike you, sir--I like you, Thomas Sedley; I do--I do, indeed, sir."

  And old Vane Etherage gave him a very friendly shake by the hand, andTom thanked him gratefully, and went away reprieved, and took a walkwith the girls, and told them, as they expressed it, _everything_; andVane Etherage thought it incumbent on him to soften matters a littleby asking him to dinner; and Tom accepted; and when they broke upafter tea, there was another mistake discovered about the hour, andMiss Charity most emphatically announced that it was _perfectlyunaccountable_, and must _never_ occur again; and I hope, for the sakeof the venerable man who sat up, resigned and affronted, to secure thehall-door and put out the lamps after the party had broken up, thatthese irregular hours were kept no more at Hazelden.