The Three Clerks by Anthony Trollope

A >> Anthony Trollope >> The Three Clerks

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42 | 43 | 44 | 45 | 46 | 47

'How to get away from him?' said Gertrude. 'That's M. Delabarbe
de l'Empereur, a great friend of Mrs. Val's, and a very quiet
sort of man, I believe; he won't eat you.'

'No, he won't eat me, I know; but I can't look at anything,
because he will walk so close to me! Mayn't I come with you?'

Gertrude told her she might, and so Katie made good her escape,
hiding herself from her enemy as well as she could behind her
sister's petticoats. He, poor man, was perhaps as rejoiced at the
arrangement as Katie herself; at any rate he made no attempt to
regain his prey, but went on by himself, looking as placidly
stern as ever, till he was absorbed by Mrs. Val's more immediate
party, and then he devoted himself to her, while M. Jaquetanape
settled with Clementina the properest arrangement for the waltzes
of the evening.

Katie was beginning to be tranquilly happy, and was listening to
the enthusiasm of Ugolina Neverbend, who declared that flowers
were the female poet's fitting food--it may be doubted whether
she had ever tried it--when her heart leaped within her on
hearing a sharp, clear, well-known voice, almost close behind
her. It was Charley Tudor. After her silent promenade with M.
Delabarbe de l'Empereur, Katie had been well pleased to put up
with the obscure but yet endurable volubility of Ugolina; but now
she felt almost as anxious to get quit of Ugolina as she had
before been to shake off the Frenchman.

'Flowers are Nature's chef-d'oeuvre,' said Ugolina; 'they convey
to me the purest and most direct essence of that heavenly power
of production which is the sweetest evidence which Jehovah gives
us of His presence.'

'Do they?' said Katie, looking over her shoulder to watch what
Charley was doing, and to see whether he was coming to notice
her.

'They are the bright stars of His immediate handiwork,' said
Ugolina; 'and if our dim eyes could read them aright, they would
whisper to us the secret of His love.'

'Yes, I dare say they would,' said Katie, who felt, perhaps, a
little disappointed because Charley lingered a while shaking
hands with Mrs. Val and Clementina Golightly.

It was, however, but for a moment. There was much shaking of
hands to be done, and a considerable taking off of hats to be
gone through; and as Alaric and Charley encountered the head of
the column first, it was only natural that they should work their
way through it gradually. Katie, however, never guessed--how
could she?--that Charley had calculated that by reaching her last
he would be able to remain with her.

She was still listening to Ugolina, who was mounting higher and
higher up to heaven, when she found her hand in Charley's.
Ugolina might now mount up, and get down again as best she could,
for Katie could no longer listen to her.

Alaric had not seen her yet since her ducking. She had to listen
to and to answer his congratulations, Charley standing by and
making his comments.

'Charley says you took to the water quite naturally, and swam
like a duck,' said Alaric.

'Only she went in head foremost,' said Charley.

'All bathers ought to do that,' said Alaric; 'and tell me, Katie,
did you feel comfortable when you were in the water?'

'Indeed I don't recollect anything about it,' said she, 'only
that I saw Charley coming to me, just when I was going to sink
for the last time.'

'Sink! Why, I'm told that you floated like a deal board.'

'The big hat and the crinoline kept her up,' said Charley; 'she
had no idea of sinking.'

'Oh! Charley, you know I was under the water for a long time; and
that if you had not come, just at that very moment, I should
never have come up again.'

And then Alaric went on, and Charley and Katie were left
together.

How was she to give him the purse? It was burning a hole in her
pocket till she could do so; and yet how was she to get it out of
her possession into his, and make her little speech, here in the
public garden? She could have done it easily enough at home in
the drawing-room at Surbiton Cottage.

'And how do you like the gardens?' asked Charley.

'Oh! they are beautiful; but I have hardly been able to see
anything yet. I have been going about with a great big Frenchman
--there, that man there--he has such a queer name.'

'Did his name prevent your seeing?'

'No, not his name; I didn't know his name then.

But it seemed so odd to be walking about with such a man as that.
But I want to go back, and look at the black and yellow roses in
that house, there. Would you go with me? that is, if we may. I
wonder whether we may!'

Charley was clearly of opinion that they might, and should, and
would; and so away they sallied back to the roses, and Katie
began to enjoy the first instalment of the happiness which she
had anticipated. In the temple of the roses the crowd at first
was great, and she could not get the purse out of her pocket, nor
make her speech; but after a while the people passed on, and
there was a lull before others filled their places, and Katie
found herself opposite to a beautiful black rose, with no one
close to her but Charley.

'I have got something for you,' she said; and as she spoke she
felt herself to be almost hot with blushing.

'Something for me!' said Charley; and he also felt himself
abashed, he did not know why.

'It's only a very little thing,' said Katie, feeling in her
pocket, 'and I am almost ashamed to ask you to take it. But I
made it all myself; no one else put a stitch in it,' and so
saying, and looking round to see that she was not observed, she
handed her gift to Charley.

'Oh! Katie, dearest Katie,' said he, 'I am so much obliged to
you--I'll keep it till I die.'

'I didn't know what to make that was better,' said she.

'Nothing on earth could possibly be better,' said he.

'A plate of bread and butter and a purse are a very poor return
for saving one's life,' said she, half laughing, half crying.

He looked at her with his eyes full of love; and as he looked, he
swore within himself that come what might, he would never see
Norah Geraghty again, but would devote his life to an endeavour
to make himself worthy of the angel that was now with him. Katie
the while was looking up anxiously into his face. She was
thinking of no other love than that which it became her to feel
for the man who had saved her life. She was thinking of no other
love; but her young heart was opening itself to a very different
feeling. She was sinking deep, deep in waters which were to go
near to drown her warm heart; much nearer than those other waters
which she fancied had all but closed for ever over her life.

She looked into his face and saw that he was pleased; and that,
for the present, was enough for her. She was at any rate happy
now. So they passed on through the roses, and then lost
themselves among the geraniums, and wondered at the gigantic
rhododendrons, and beautiful azaleas, and so went on from house
to house, and from flower-bed to flower-bed, Katie talking and
Charley listening, till she began to wonder at her former
supineness, and to say both to herself and out loud to her
companion, how very, very, very glad she was that her mother had
let her come.

Poor Katie!--dear, darling, bonny Katie!--sweet sweetest, dearest
child! why, oh why, has that mother of thine, that tender-hearted
loving mother, put thee unguarded in the way of such peril as
this? Has she not sworn to herself that over thee at least she
would watch as a hen does over her young, so that no unfortunate
love should quench thy young spirit, or blanch thy cheek's bloom?
Has she not trembled at the thought of what would have befallen
thee, had thy fate been such as Linda's? Has she not often--oh,
how often!--on her knees thanked the Almighty God that Linda's
spirit was not as thine; that this evil had happened to the lamb
whose temper had been fitted by Him to endure it? And yet--here
thou art--all unguarded, all unaided, left by thyself to drink of
the cup of sweet poison, and none near to warn thee that the
draught is deadly.

Alas!--'twould be useless to warn thee now. The false god has
been placed upon the altar, the temple all shining with gems and
gold has been built around him, the incense-cup is already
swinging; nothing will now turn the idolater from her worship,
nothing short of a miracle.

Our Katie's childish days are now all gone. A woman's passion
glows within her breast, though as yet she has not scanned it
with a woman's intelligence. Her mother, listening to a child's
entreaty, had suffered her darling to go forth for a child's
amusement. It was doomed that the child should return no more;
but in lieu of her, a fair, heart-laden maiden, whose every
fondest thought must henceforth be of a stranger's welfare and a
stranger's fate.

But it must not be thought that Charley abused the friendship of
Mrs. Woodward, and made love to Katie, as love is usually made--
with warm words, assurances of affection, with squeezing of the
hand, with sighs, and all a lover's ordinary catalogue of
resources. Though we have said that he was a false god, yet he
was hardly to be blamed for the temple, and gems, and gold, with
which he was endowed; not more so, perhaps, than the unconscious
bud which is made so sacred on the banks of the Egyptian river.
He loved too, perhaps as warmly, though not so fatally as Katie
did; but he spoke no word of his love. He walked among the
flowers with her, laughing and listening to her in his usual
light-hearted, easy manner; every now and again his arm would
thrill with pleasure, as he felt on it the touch of her little
fingers, and his heart would leap within him as he gazed on the
speaking beauty of her face; but he was too honest-hearted to
talk to the young girl, to Mrs. Woodward's child, of love. He
talked to her as to a child--but she listened to him and loved
him as a woman.

And so they rambled on till the hour appointed for quitting this
Elysium had arrived. Every now and again they had a glimpse of
some one of their party, which had satisfied Katie that they were
not lost. At first Clementina was seen tracing with her parasol
on the turf the plan of a new dance. Then Ugolina passed by them
describing the poetry of the motion of the spheres in a full flow
of impassioned eloquence to M. Delabarbe de l'Empereur: '_C'est
toujours vrai; ce que mademoiselle dit est toujours vrai_,'
was the Frenchman's answer, which they heard thrice repeated. And
then Lactimel and Captain Val were seen together, the latter
having disappointed the prophecies which had been made respecting
him. Lactimel had an idea that as the Scotts were great people,
they were all in Parliament, and she was endeavouring to persuade
Captain Val that something ought to be done for the poor.

'Think,' said she, 'only think, Captain Scott, of all the money
that this _fete_ must cost.'

'A doosed sight,' said the captain, hardly articulating from
under his thick, sandy-coloured moustache, which, growing
downwards from his nose, looked like a heavy thatch put on to
protect his mouth from the inclemency of the clouds above. 'A
doosed sight,' said the captain.

'Now suppose, Captain Scott, that all this money could be
collected. The tickets, you know, and the dresses, and----'

'I wish I knew how to do it,' said the captain.

Lactimel went on with her little scheme for expending the cost of
the flower-show in bread and bacon for the poor Irish of Saffron
Hill; but Charley and Katie heard no more, for the mild
philosopher passed out of hearing and out of sight.

At last Katie got a poke in her back from a parasol, just as
Charley had expended half a crown, one of Mr. M'Ruen's last, in
purchasing for her one simple beautiful flower, to put into her
hair that night.

'You naughty puss!' said Gertrude, 'we have been looking for you
all over the gardens. Mrs. Val and the Miss Neverbends have been
waiting this half-hour.' Katie looked terribly frightened. 'Come
along, and don't keep them waiting any longer. They are all in
the passage. This was your fault, Master Charley.'

'O no, it was not,' said Katie; 'but we thought----'

'Never mind thinking,' said Gertrude, 'but come along.' And so
they hurried on, and were soon replaced in their respective
vehicles, and then went back to town.

'Well, I do think the Chiswick Gardens is the nicest place in all
the world,' said Katie, leaning back in the cab, and meditating
on her past enjoyment.

'They are very pretty--very,' said Lactimel Neverbend. 'I only
wish every cottar had such a garden behind his cottage. I am sure
we might manage it, if we set about it in the right way.'

'What! as big as Chiswick?' said Katie.

'No; not so big,' said Lactimel; 'but quite as nicely kept.'

'I think the pigs would get in,' said Katie.

'It would be much easier, and more important too, to keep their
minds nicely,' said Ugolina; and there the pigs could never get
in.'

'No; I suppose not,' said Katie.

'I don't know that,' said Lactimel.

CHAPTER XXVI

KATIE'S FIRST BALL

In spite of Mrs. Val's oft-repeated assurance that they would
have none but nice people, she had done her best to fill her
rooms, and not unsuccessfully. She had, it is true, eschewed the
Golightly party, who resided some north of Oxford Street, in the
purlieus of Fitzroy Square, and some even to the east of
Tottenham Court Road. She had eschewed the Golightlys, and
confined herself to the Scott connexion; but so great had been
her success in life, that, even under these circumstances, she
had found herself able to fill her rooms respectably. If, indeed,
there was no absolute crowding, if some space was left in the
front drawing-room sufficient for the operations of dancers, she
could still attribute this apparent want of fashionable
popularity to the selections of the few nice people whom she had
asked. The Hon. Mrs. Val was no ordinary woman, and understood
well how to make the most of the goods with which the gods
provided her.

The Miss Neverbends were to dine with the Tudors, and go with
them to the dance in the evening, and their brother Fidus was to
meet them there. Charley was, of course, one of the party at
dinner; and as there was no other gentleman there, Alaric had an
excellent opportunity, when the ladies went up to their toilets,
to impress on his cousin the expediency of his losing no time in
securing to himself Miss Golightly's twenty thousand pounds. The
conversation, as will be seen, at last became rather animated.

'Well, Charley, what do you think of the beautiful Clementina?'
said Alaric, pushing over the bottle to his cousin, as soon as
they found themselves alone. 'A 'doosed' fine girl, as Captain
Val says, isn't she?'

'A 'doosed' fine girl, of course,' said Charley, laughing. 'She
has too much go in her for me, I'm afraid.'

'Marriage and children will soon pull that down. She'd make an
excellent wife for such a man as you; and to tell you the truth,
Charley, if you'll take my advice, you'll lose no time in making
up to her. She has got that d---- French fellow at her heels, and
though I don't suppose she cares one straw about him, it may be
well to make sure.'

'But you don't mean in earnest that you think that Miss Golightly
would have me?'

'Indeed I do--you are just the man to get on with girls; and, as
far as I can see, you are just the man that will never get on in
any other way under the sun.'

Charley sighed as he thought of his many debts, his poor
prospects, and his passionate love. There seemed, indeed, to be
little chance that he ever would get on at all in the ordinary
sense of the word. 'I'm sure she'd refuse me,' said he, still
wishing to back out of the difficulty. 'I'm sure she would--I've
not got a penny in the world, you know.'

'That's just the reason--she has got lots of money, and you have
got none.'

'Just the reason why she should refuse me, you should say.'

'Well--what if she does? There's no harm done. 'Faint heart never
won fair lady.' You've everything to back you--Mrs. Val is led by
Undy Scott, and Undy is all on your side.'

'But she has got guardians, hasn't she?'

'Yes--her father's first cousin, old Sam Golightly. He is dying;
or dead probably by this time; only Mrs. Val won't have the news
brought to her, because of this party. He had a fit of apoplexy
yesterday. Then there's her father's brother-in-law, Figgs; he's
bedridden. When old Golightly is off the hooks altogether,
another will be chosen, and Undy talks of putting in my name as
that of a family friend; so you'll have everything to assist
you.'

Charley looked very grave. He had not been in the habit of
discussing such matters, but it seemed to him, that if Alaric was
about to become in any legal manner the guardian of Miss
Golightly's fortune, that that in itself was reason enough why
he, Alaric, should not propose such a match as this. Needy men,
to be sure, did often marry rich ladies, and the world looked on
and regarded it only as a matter of course; but surely it would
be the duty of a guardian to protect his ward from such a fate,
if it were in his power to do so.

Alaric, who saw something of what was going on in his cousin's
mind, essayed to remove the impression which was thus made.
'Besides, you know, Clementina is no chicken. Her fortune is at
her own disposal. All the guardians on earth cannot prevent her
marrying you if she makes up her mind to do so.'

Charley gulped down his glass of wine, and then sat staring at
the fire, saying nothing further. It was true enough that he was
very poor--true enough that Miss Golightly's fortune would set
him on his legs, and make a man of him--true enough, perhaps,
that no other expedient of which he could think would do so. But
then there were so many arguments that were 'strong against the
deed.' In the first place, he thought it impossible that he
should be successful in such a suit, and then again it would
hardly be honest to obtain such success, if it were possible;
then, thirdly, he had no sort of affection whatsoever for Miss
Golightly; and fourthly, lastly, and chiefly, he loved so dearly,
tenderly, loved poor Katie Woodward.

As he thought of this, he felt horror-stricken with himself at
allowing the idea of his becoming a suitor to another to dwell
for an instant on his mind, and looking up with all the
resolution which he was able to summon, he said--'It's
impossible, Alaric, quite impossible! I couldn't do it.'

'Then what do you mean to do?' said Alaric, who was angry at
having his scheme thus thwarted; 'do you mean to be a beggar?--or
if not, how do you intend to get out of your difficulties?'

'I trust not a beggar,' said Charley, sadly.

'What other hope have you? what rational hope of setting yourself
right?'

'Perhaps I may do something by writing,' said Charley, very
bashfully.

'By writing! ha, ha, ha,' and Alaric laughed somewhat cruelly at
the poor navvy--' do something by writing! what will you do by
writing? will you make L20,000--or 20,000 pence? Of all trades
going, that, I should say, is likely to be the poorest for a poor
man--the poorest and the most heart-breaking. What have you made
already to encourage you?'

'The editor says that 'Crinoline and Macassar' will come to L4
10s.'

'And when will you get it?'

'The editor says that the rule is to pay six months after the
date of publication. The _Daily Delight_ is only a new thing,
you know. The editor says that, if the sale comes up to his expectations,
he will increase the scale of pay.'

'A prospect of L4 10s. for a fortnight's hard work! That's a bad
look-out, my boy; you had better take the heiress.'

'It may be a bad look-out,' said Charley, whose spirit was raised
by his cousin's sneers--'but at any rate it's honest. And I'll
tell you what, Alaric, I'd sooner earn L50 by writing for the
press, than get L1,000 in any other way you can think of. It may
be a poor trade in one way; and authors, I believe, are poor; but
I am sure it has its consolations.'

'Well, Charley, I hope with all my heart that you may find them.
For my own part, seeing what a place the world is, seeing what
are the general aspirations of other men, seeing what, as it
appears to me, the Creator has intended for the goal of our
labours, I look for advancement, prosperity, and such rank and
station as I may be able to win for myself. The labourer is
worthy of his hire, and I do not mean to refuse such wages as may
come in my way.'

'Yes,' said Charley, who, now that his spirit was roused,
determined to fight his battle manfully, 'yes, the labourer is
worthy of his hire; but were I to get Miss Golightly's fortune I
should be taking the hire without labour.'

'Bah!' said Alaric.

'It would be dishonest in every way, for I do not love her, and
should not love her at the moment that I married her.'

'Honesty!' said Alaric, still sneering; 'there is no sign of the
dishonesty of the age so strong as the continual talk which one
hears about honesty!' It was quite manifest that Alaric had not
sat at the feet of Undy Scott without profiting by the lessons
which he had heard.

'With what face,' continued he, 'can you pretend to be more
honest than your neighbours?'

'I know that it is wrong, and unmanly too, to hunt a girl down
merely for what she has got.'

'There are a great many wrong and unmanly men about, then,' said
Alaric. 'Look through the Houses of Parliament, and see how many
men there have married for money; aye, and made excellent
husbands afterwards. I'll tell you what it is, Charley, it is all
humbug in you to pretend to be better than others; you are not a
bit better;--mind, I do not say you are worse. We have none of us
too much of this honesty of which we are so fond of prating.
Where was your honesty when you ordered the coat for which you
know you cannot pay? or when you swore to the bootmaker that he
should have the amount of his little bill after next quarter-day,
knowing in your heart at the time that he wouldn't get a farthing
of it? If you are so honest, why did you waste your money to-day
in going to Chiswick, instead of paying some portion of your
debts? Honest! you are, I dare say, indifferently honest as the
world goes, like the rest of us. But I think you might put the
burden of Clementina's fortune on your conscience without feeling
much the worse for it after what you have already gone through.'

Charley became very red in the face as he sat silent, listening
to Alaric's address--nor did he speak at once at the first pause,
so Alaric went on. 'The truth, I take it, is, that at the present
moment you have no personal fancy for this girl.'

'No, I have not,' said Charley.

'And you are so incredibly careless as to all prudential
considerations as to prefer your immediate personal fancies to
the future welfare of your whole life. I can say no more. If you
will think well of my proposition, I will do all I can to assist
you. I have no doubt you would make a good husband to Miss
Golightly, and that she would be very happy with you. If you
think otherwise there is an end of it; but pray do not talk so
much about your honesty--your tailor would arrest you to-morrow
if he heard you.'

'There are two kinds of honesty, I take it,' said Charley,
speaking with suppressed anger and sorrow visible in his face,
'that which the world sees and that which it does not see. For
myself, I have nothing to say in my own defence. I have made my
bed badly, and must lie on it as it is. I certainly will not mend
it by marrying a girl that I can never love. And as for you,
Alaric, all who know you and love you watch your career with the
greatest hope. We know your ambition, and all look to see you
rise in the world. But in rising, as you will do, you should
remember this--that nothing that is wrong can become right
because other people do it.'

'Well, Charley,' said the other, 'thank you for the lecture. I
did not certainly expect it from you; but it is not on that
account the less welcome. And now, suppose we go upstairs and
dress for Mrs. Val;' and so they went upstairs.

Katie's heart beat high as she got out of the carriage--Mrs.
Val's private carriage had been kept on for the occasion--and saw
before and above her on the stairs a crowd of muslin crushing its
way on towards the room prepared for dancing. Katie had never
been to a ball before. We hope that the word ball may not bring
down on us the adverse criticism of the _Morning Post_. It
was probably not a ball in the strictly fashionable sense of the
word, but it was so to Katie to all intents and purposes. Her
dancing had hitherto been done either at children's parties, or
as a sort of supplemental amusement to the evening tea-gatherings
at Hampton or Hampton Court. She had never yet seen the muse
worshipped with the premeditated ceremony of banished carpets,
chalked floors, and hired musicians. Her heart consequently beat
high as she made her way upstairs, linked arm-in-arm with Ugolina
Neverbend.

'Shall you dance much?' said Ugolina.

'Oh, I hope so,' said Katie.

'I shall not. It is an amusement of which I am peculiarly fond,
and for which my active habits suit me.' This was probably said
with some allusion to her sister, who was apt to be short of
breath. 'But in the dances of the present day conversation is
impossible, and I look upon any pursuit as barbaric which stops
the "feast of reason and the flow of soul."'