The Three Clerks by Anthony Trollope

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His heart is in his office--his heart IS ALWAYS _there_."

'There,' said Mrs. Woodward, 'that's the end of the first
chapter.'

'Well, I like the page the best,' said Linda, 'because he seems
to know what he is about.'

'Oh, so does the lady,' said Charley; 'but it wouldn't at all do
if we made the hero and heroine go about their work like humdrum
people. You'll see that the Lady Crinoline knows very well what's
what.'

'Oh, Charley, pray don't tell us,' said Katie; 'I do so like Mr.
Macassar, he is so spooney; pray go on, mamma.'

'I'm ready,' said Mrs. Woodward, again taking up the manuscript.

"CHAPTER II

"The lovely Crinoline was the only daughter of fond parents; and
though they were not what might be called extremely wealthy,
considering the vast incomes of some residents in the metropolis,
and were not perhaps wont to mix in the highest circles of the
Belgravian aristocracy, yet she was enabled to dress in all the
elegance of fashion, and contrived to see a good deal of that
society which moves in the highly respectable neighbourhood of
Russell Square and Gower Street.

"Her dresses were made at the distinguished establishment of
Madame Mantalini, in Hanover Square; at least she was in the
habit of getting one dress there every other season, and this was
quite sufficient among her friends to give her a reputation for
dealing in the proper quarter. Once she had got a bonnet direct
from Paris, which gave her ample opportunity of expressing a
frequent opinion not favourable to the fabricators of a British
article. She always took care that her shoes had within them the
name of a French cordonnier; and her gloves were made to order in
the Rue Du Bac, though usually bought and paid for in Tottenham
Court Road."

'What a false creature!' said Linda.

'False!' said Charley; 'and how is a girl to get along if she be
not false? What girl could live for a moment before the world if
she were to tell the whole truth about the get-up of her
wardrobe--the patchings and make-believes, the chipped ribbons
and turned silks, the little bills here, and the little bills
there? How else is an allowance of L20 a year to be made
compatible with an appearance of unlimited income? How else are
young men to be taught to think that in an affair of dress money
is a matter of no moment whatsoever?'

'Oh, Charley, Charley, don't be slanderous,' said Mrs. Woodward.

'I only repeat what the editor says to me--I know nothing about
it myself. Only we are requested 'to hold the mirror up to
nature,'--and to art too, I believe. We are to set these things
right, you know.'

'We--who are we?' said Katie.

'Why, the _Daily Delight_,' said Charley.

'But I hope there's nothing false in patching and turning,' said
Mrs. Woodward; 'for if there be, I'm the falsest woman alive.

To gar the auld claes look amaist as weel's the new

is, I thought, one of the most legitimate objects of a woman's
diligence.'

'It all depends on the spirit of the stitches,' said Charley the
censor.

'Well, I must say I don't like mending up old clothes a bit
better than Charley does,' said Katie; 'but pray go on, mamma;'
so Mrs. Woodward continued to read.

"On the day of Macassar's visit in Tavistock Square, Crinoline
was dressed in a most elegant morning costume. It was a very
light barege muslin, extremely full; and which, as she had
assured her friend, Miss Manasseh, of Keppel Street, had been
sent home from the establishment in Hanover Square only the day
before. I am aware that Miss Manasseh instantly propagated an
ill-natured report that she had seen the identical dress in a
milliner's room up two pairs back in Store Street; but then Miss
Manasseh was known to be envious; and had moreover seen twelve
seasons out in those localities, whereas the fair Crinoline,
young thing, had graced Tavistock Square only for two years; and
her mother was ready to swear that she had never passed the
nursery door till she came there. The ground of the dress was a
light pea-green, and the pattern was ivy wreaths entwined with
pansies and tulips--each flounce showed a separate wreath--and
there were nine flounces, the highest of which fairy circles was
about three inches below the smallest waist that ever was tightly
girded in steel and whalebone.

"Macassar had once declared, in a moment of ecstatic energy, that
a small waist was the chiefest grace in woman. How often had the
Lady Crinoline's maid, when in the extreme agony of her labour,
put a malediction on his name on account of this speech!

"It is unnecessary to speak of the drapery of the arms, which
showed the elaborate lace of the sleeve beneath, and sometimes
also the pearly whiteness of that rounded arm. This was a sight
which would almost drive Macassar to distraction. At such moments
as that the hopes of the patriotic poet for the good of the Civil
Service were not strictly fulfilled in the heart of Macassar
Jones. Oh, if the Lady Crinoline could but have known!

"It is unnecessary also to describe the strange and hidden
mechanism of that mysterious petticoat which gave such full
dimensions, such ample sweeping proportions to the _tout
ensemble_ of the lady's appearance. It is unnecessary, and
would perhaps be improper, and as far as I am concerned, is
certainly impossible."

Here Charley blushed, as Mrs. Woodward looked at him from over
the top of the paper.

"Let it suffice to say that she could envelop a sofa without the
slightest effort, throw her draperies a yard and a half from her
on either side without any appearance of stretching, completely
fill a carriage; or, which was more frequently her fate, entangle
herself all but inextricably in a cab.

"A word, however, must be said of those little feet that peeped
out now and again so beautifully from beneath the artistic
constructions above alluded to-of the feet, or perhaps rather of
the shoes. But yet, what can be said of them successfully? That
French name so correctly spelt, so elaborately accented, so
beautifully finished in gold letters, which from their form,
however, one would say that the _cordonnier_ must have imported
from England, was only visible to those favoured knights who were
occasionally permitted to carry the shoes home in their pockets.

"But a word must be said about the hair dressed _a
l'imperatrice_, redolent of the sweetest patchouli, disclosing
all the glories of that ingenuous, but perhaps too open brow. A
word must be said; but, alas! how inefficacious to do justice to
the ingenuity so wonderfully displayed! The hair of the Lady
Crinoline was perhaps more lovely than abundant: to produce that
glorious effect, that effect which has now symbolized among
English lasses the head-dress _a l'imperatrice_ as the one
idea of feminine beauty, every hair was called on to give its
separate aid. As is the case with so many of us who are anxious
to put our best foot foremost, everything was abstracted from the
rear in order to create a show in the front. Then to complete the
garniture of the head, to make all perfect, to leave no point of
escape for the susceptible admirer of modern beauty, some dorsal
appendage was necessary of mornings as well as in the more fully
bedizened period of evening society.

"Everything about the sweet Crinoline was wont to be green. It is
the sweetest and most innocent of colours; but, alas! a colour
dangerous for the heart's ease of youthful beauty. Hanging from
the back of her head were to be seen moss and fennel, and various
grasses--rye grass and timothy, trefoil and cinquefoil, vetches,
and clover, and here and there young fern. A story was told, but
doubtless false, as it was traced to the mouth of Miss Manasseh,
that once while Crinoline was reclining in a paddock at Richmond,
having escaped with the young Macassar from the heat of a
neighbouring drawing-room, a cow had attempted to feed from her
head."

'Oh, Charley, a cow!' said Katie.

'Well, but you see I don't give it as true,' said Charley.

'I shall never get it done if Katie won't hold her tongue,' said
Mrs. Woodward.

"But perhaps it was when at the seaside in September, at
Broadstairs, Herne Bay, or Dover, Crinoline and her mamma
invigorated themselves with the sea-breezes of the ocean--perhaps
it was there that she was enabled to assume that covering for her
head in which her soul most delighted. It was a Tom and Jerry hat
turned up at the sides, with a short but knowing feather, velvet
trimmings, and a steel buckle blinking brightly in the noonday
sun. Had Macassar seen her in this he would have yielded himself
her captive at once, quarter or no quarter. It was the most
marked, and perhaps the most attractive peculiarity of the Lady
Crinoline's face, that the end of her nose was a little turned
up. This charm, in unison with the upturned edges of her cruel-
hearted hat, was found by many men to be invincible.

"We all know how dreadful is the spectacle of a Saracen's head,
as it appears, or did appear, painted on a huge board at the top
of Snow Hill. From that we are left to surmise with what
tremendous audacity of countenance, with what terror-striking
preparations of the outward man, an Eastern army is led to
battle. Can any men so fearfully bold in appearance ever turn
their backs and fly? They look as though they could destroy by
the glance of their ferocious eyes. Who could withstand the
hirsute horrors of those fiery faces?

"There is just such audacity, a courage of a similar description,
perhaps we may say an equal invincibility, in the charms of those
Tom and Jerry hats when duly put on, over a face of the proper
description--over such a face as that of the Lady Crinoline. They
give to the wearer an appearance of concentration of pluck. But
as the Eastern array does quail before the quiet valour of
Europe, so, we may perhaps say, does the open, quick audacity of
the Tom and Jerry tend to less powerful results than the modest
enduring patience of the bonnet."

'So ends the second chapter--bravo, Charley,' said Mrs. Woodward.
'In the name of the British female public, I beg to thank you for
your exertions.'

'The editor said I was to write down turned-up hats,' said
Charley. 'I rather like them myself.'

'I hope my new slouch is not an audacious Saracen's head,' said
Linda.

'Or mine,' said Katie. 'But you may say what you like about them
now; for mine is drowned.'

'Come, girls, there are four more chapters, I see. Let me finish
it, and then we can discuss it afterwards.'

"CHAPTER III

"Having thus described the Lady Crinoline----"

'You haven't described her at all,' said Linda; 'you haven't got
beyond her clothes yet.'

'There is nothing beyond them,' said Charley.

'You haven't even described her face,' said Katie; 'you have only
said that she had a turned-up nose.'

'There is nothing further that one can say about it,' said
Charley.

"Having thus described the Lady Crinoline,' continued Mrs.
Woodward, 'it now becomes our duty, as impartial historians, to
give some account of Mr. Macassar Jones.

"We are not prepared to give the exact name of the artist by whom
Mr. Macassar Jones was turned out to the world so perfectly
dressed a man. Were we to do so, the signal service done to one
establishment by such an advertisement would draw down on us the
anger of the trade at large, and the tailors of London would be
in league against the _Daily Delight_. It is sufficient to
remark that the artist's offices are not a hundred miles from
Pall Mall. Nor need we expressly name the bootmaker to whom is
confided the task of making those feet 'small by degrees and
beautifully less.' The process, we understand, has been painful,
but the effect is no doubt remunerative.

"In three especial walks of dress has Macassar Jones been more
than ordinarily careful to create a sensation; and we believe we
may assert that he has been successful in all. We have already
alluded to his feet. Ascending from them, and ascending not far,
we come to his coat. It is needless to say that it is a frock;
needless to say that it is a long frock--long as those usually
worn by younger infants, and apparently made so for the same
purpose. But look at the exquisitely small proportions of the
collar; look at the grace of the long sleeves, the length of
back, the propriety, the innate respectability, the perfect
decorum--we had almost said the high moral worth--of the whole.
Who would not willingly sacrifice any individual existence that
he might become the exponent of such a coat? Macassar Jones was
proud to do so.

"But he had bestowed perhaps the greatest amount of personal
attention on his collar. It was a matter more within his own
grasp than those great and important articles to which attention
has been already drawn; but one, nevertheless, on which he was
able to expend the whole amount of his energy and genius. Some
people may think that an all-rounder is an all-rounder, and that
if one is careful to get an all-rounder one has done all that is
necessary. But so thought not Macassar Jones. Some men wear
collars of two plies of linen, some men of three; but Macassar
Jones wore collars of four plies. Some men--some sensual, self-
indulgent men--appear to think that the collar should be made for
the neck; but Macassar Jones knew better. He, who never spared
him self when the cause was good, he knew that the neck had been
made for the collar--it was at any rate evident that such was the
case with his own. Little can be said of his head, except that it
was small, narrow, and genteel; but his hat might be spoken of,
and perhaps with advantage. Of the loose but studied tie of his
inch-wide cravat a paragraph might be made; but we would fain not
be tedious.

"We will only further remark that he always carried with him a
wonderful representation of himself, like to him to a miracle,
only smaller in its dimensions, like as a duodecimo is to a
folio--a babe, as it were, of his own begetting--a little
_alter ego_ in which he took much delight. It was his umbrella.
Look at the delicate finish of its lower extremity; look at the long,
narrow, and well-made coat in which it is enveloped from its neck
downwards, without speck, or blemish, or wrinkle; look at the little
wooden head, nicely polished, with the effigy of a human face on
one side of it--little eyes it has, and a sort of nose; look closer at it,
and you will perceive a mouth, not expressive indeed, but still it is
there--a mouth and chin; and is it, or is it not, an attempt at a pair
of whiskers? It certainly has a moustache.

"Such were Mr. Macassar Jones and his umbrella. He was an
excellent clerk, and did great credit to the important office to
which he was attached--namely, that of the Episcopal Audit Board.
He was much beloved by the other gentlemen who were closely
connected with him in that establishment; and may be said, for
the first year or two of his service, to have been, not exactly
the life and soul, but, we may perhaps say with more propriety,
the pervading genius of the room in which he sat.

"But, alas! at length a cloud came over his brow. At first it was
but a changing shadow; but it settled into a dark veil of sorrow
which obscured all his virtues, and made the worthy senior of his
room shake his thin grey locks once and again. He shook them more
in sorrow than in anger; for he knew that Macassar was in love,
and he remembered the days of his youth. Yes; Macassar was in
love. He had seen the lovely Crinoline. To see was to admire; to
admire was to love; to love--that is, to love her, to love
Crinoline, the exalted, the sought-after, the one so much in
demand, as he had once expressed himself to one of his bosom
friends--to love her was to despair. He did despair; and
despairing sighed, and sighing was idle.

"But he was not all idle. The genius of the man had that within
it which did not permit itself to evaporate in mere sighs. Sighs,
with the high-minded, force themselves into the guise of poetry,
and so it had been with him. He got leave of absence for a week,
and shut himself up alone in his lodgings; for a week in his
lodgings, during the long evenings of winter, did he remain
unseen and unheard of. His landlady thought that he was in debt,
and his friends whispered abroad that he had caught scarlatina.
But at the end of the seven days he came forth, pale indeed, but
with his countenance lighted up by ecstatic fire, and as he
started for his office, he carefully folded and put into his
pocket the elegantly written poem on which he had been so
intently engaged."

'I'm so glad we are to have more poetry,' said Katie. 'Is it
another song?'

'You'll see,' said Mrs. Woodward.

"Macassar had many bosom friends at his office, to all of whom,
one by one, he had confided the tale of his love. For a while he
doubted to which of them he should confide the secret of his
inspiration; but genius will not hide its head under a bushel;
and thus, before long, did Macassar's song become the common
property of the Episcopal Audit Board. Even the Bishops sang it,
so Macassar was assured by one of his brother clerks who was made
of a coarser clay than his colleague--even the Bishops sang it
when they met in council together on their own peculiar bench.

"It would be useless to give the whole of it here; for it
contained ten verses. The last two were those which Macassar was
wont to sing to himself, as he wandered lonely under the elms of
Kensington Gardens.

"'Oh, how she walks,
And how she talks,
And sings like a bird serene;
But of this be sure
While the world shall endure,
The loveliest lady that'll ever be seen
Will still be the Lady Crinoline,
The lovely Lady Crinoline.

With her hair done all _a l'imperatrice_,
Sweetly done with the best of grease,
She looks like a Goddess or Queen,--
And so I declare,
And solemnly swear,
That the loveliest lady that ever was seen
Is still the Lady Crinoline,
The lovely Lady Crinoline.'"

'And so ends the third chapter,' said Mrs. Woodward.

Both Katie and Linda were beginning to criticize, but Mrs.
Woodward repressed them sternly, and went on with

"CHAPTER IV

"'It was a lovely day towards the end of May that Macassar Jones,
presenting himself before the desk of the senior clerk at one
o'clock, begged for permission to be absent for two hours. The
request was preferred with meek and hesitating voice, and with
downcast eyes.

"The senior clerk shook his grey locks sadly! sadly he shook his
thin grey locks, for he grieved at the sight which he saw. 'Twas
sad to see the energies of this young man thus sapped in his
early youth by the all-absorbing strength of a hopeless passion.
Crinoline was now, as it were, a household word at the Episcopal
Audit Board. The senior clerk believed her to be cruel, and as he
knew for what object these two hours of idleness were requested,
he shook his thin grey locks in sorrow.

"'I'll be back at three, sir, punctual,' said Macassar.

"'But, Mr. Jones, you are absent nearly every day for the same
period.'

"'To-day shall be the last; to-day shall end it all,' said
Macassar, with a look of wretched desperation.

"'What--what would Sir Gregory say?' said the senior clerk.

"Macassar Jones sighed deeply. Nature had not made the senior
clerk a cruel man; but yet this allusion _was_ cruel. The
young Macassar had drunk deeply of the waters that welled from
the fountain of Sir Gregory's philosophy. He had been proud to
sit humbly at the feet of such a Gamaliel; and now it rent his
young heart to be thus twitted with the displeasure of the great
master whom he so loved and so admired.

"'Well, go, Mr. Jones,' said the senior clerk, 'go, but as you
go, resolve that to-morrow you will remain at your desk. Now go,
and may prosperity attend you!'

"'All shall be decided to-day,' said Macassar, and as he spoke an
unusual spark gleamed in his eye. He went, and as he went the
senior clerk shook his thin grey hairs. He was a bachelor, and he
distrusted the charms of the sex.

"Macassar, returning to his desk, took up his hat and his
umbrella, and went forth. His indeed was a plight at which that
old senior clerk might well shake his thin grey hairs in sorrow,
for Macassar was the victim of mysterious circumstances, which,
from his youth upwards, had marked him out for a fate of no
ordinary nature. The tale must now be told."

'O dear!' said Linda; 'is it something horrid?'

'I hope it is,' said Katie; 'perhaps he's already married to some
old hag or witch.'

'You don't say who his father and mother are; but I suppose he'll
turn out to be somebody else's son,' said Linda.

'He's a very nice young man for a small tea-party, at any rate,'
said Uncle Bat.

"The tale must now be told," continued Mrs. Woodward. "In his
early years Macassar Jones had had a maiden aunt. This lady died--"

'Oh, mamma, if you read it in that way I shall certainly cry,'
said Katie.

'Well, my dear, if your heart is so susceptible you had better
indulge it.' "This lady died and left behind her----"

'What?' said Linda.

'A diamond ring?' said Katie.

'A sealed manuscript, which was found in a secret drawer?'
suggested Linda.

'Perhaps a baby,' said Uncle Bat.

"And left behind her a will----"

'Did she leave anything else?' asked Norman.

'Ladies and gentlemen, if I am to be interrupted in this way, I
really must resign my task,' said Mrs. Woodward; 'we shall never
get to bed.'

'I won't say another word,' said Katie.

"In his early years Macassar had had a maiden aunt. This lady
died and left behind her a will, in which, with many expressions
of the warmest affection and fullest confidence, she left L3,000
in the three per cents----"

'What are the three per cents?' said Katie.

'The three per cents is a way in which people get some of their
money to spend regularly, when they have got a large sum locked
up somewhere,' said Linda.

'Oh!' said Katie.

'Will you hold your tongue, miss?' said Mrs. Woodward.

"Left L3,000 in the three per cents to her nephew. But she left
it on these conditions, that he should be married before he was
twenty-five, and that he should have a child lawfully born in the
bonds of wedlock before he was twenty-six. And then the will went
on to state that the interest of the money should accumulate till
Macassar had attained the latter age; and that in the event of
his having failed to comply with the conditions and stipulations
above named, the whole money, principal and interest, should be
set aside, and by no means given up to the said Macassar, but
applied to the uses, purposes, and convenience of that excellent
charitable institution, denominated the Princess Charlotte's
Lying-in Hospital.

"Now the nature of this will had been told in confidence by
Macassar to some of his brother clerks, and was consequently well
known at the Episcopal Audit Board. It had given rise there to a
spirit of speculation against which the senior clerk had
protested in vain. Bets were made, some in favour of Macassar,
and some in that of the hospital; but of late the odds were going
much against our hero. It was well known that in three short
months he would attain that disastrous age, which, if it found
him a bachelor, would find him also denuded of his legacy. And
then how short a margin remained for the second event! The odds
were daily rising against Macassar, and as he heard the bets
offered and taken at the surrounding desks, his heart quailed
within him.

"And the lovely Crinoline, she also had heard of this eccentric
will; she and her mother. L3,000 with interest arising for some
half score of years would make a settlement by no means
despicable in Tavistock Square, and would enable Macassar to
maintain a house over which even Crinoline need not be ashamed to
preside. But what if the legacy should be lost! She also knew to
a day what was the age of her swain; she knew how close upon her
was that day, which, if she passed it unwedded, would see her
resolved to be deaf for ever to the vows of Macassar. Still, if
she managed well, there might be time--at any rate for the
marriage.

"But, alas! Macassar made no vows; none at least which the most
attentive ear could consider to be audible. Crinoline's ear was
attentive, but hitherto in vain. He would come there daily to
Tavistock Square; daily would that true and valiant page lay open
the path to his mistress's feet; daily would Macassar sit there
for a while and sigh. But the envious hour would pass away, while
the wished-for word was still unsaid; and he would hurry back,
and complete with figures, too often erroneous, the audit of some
diocesan balance.

"'You must help him, my dear,' said Crinoline's mamma.

"'But he says nothing, mamma,' said Crinoline in tears.

"'You must encourage him to speak, my dear.'

"'I do encourage him; but by that time it is always three
o'clock, and then he has to go away.'

"'You should be quicker, my dear. You should encourage him more
at once. Now try to-day; if you can't do anything to-day I really
must get your papa to interfere.'

"Crinoline had ever been an obedient child, and now, as ever, she
determined to obey. But it was a hard task for her. In three
months he would be twenty-five--in fifteen months twenty-six.
She, however, would do her best; and then, if her efforts were
unavailing, she could only trust to Providence and her papa.