One of Our Conquerors. Complete - George Meredith 7 стр.

And next day, Nataly draws five thousand pounds for the first sketch of the furniture.

There is the Creckholt she had a difficulty in saying.

Part of it may do. Lakelands requiresbut you will see to-morrow.

After a close shutting of her eyes, she rejoined: It is not a cottage?

Well, dear, no: when the Slave of the Lamp takes to building, he does not run up cottages. And we did it without magic, all in a year; which is quite as good as a magical trick in a night. He drew her close to him. When was it my dear girl guessed me at work?

It was the other dear girl. Nesta is the guesser.

You were two best of souls to keep from bothering me; and I might have had to fib; and we neither of us like that. He noticed a sidling of her look. More than the circumstances oblige:to be frank. But now we can speak of them. Waitand the change comes; and opportunely, I have found. Its true we have waited long; my darling has had her worries. However, it s here at last. Prepare yourself. I speak positively. You have to brace up for one sharp twitchthe womans portion! as Natata saysand its over. He looked into her eyes for comprehension; and not finding inquiry, resumed: Just in time for the entry into Lakelands. With the pronouncement of the decree, we present the licence at an altar weve stood before, in spirit one of the ladies of your family to support you:why not? Not even then?

No, Victor; they have cast me off.

Count on my cousins, the Duvidney ladies. Then we can say, that those two good old spinsters are less narrow than the Dreightons. I have to confess I rather think I was to blame for leaving Creckholt. Only, if I see my girl wounded, I hate the place that did the mischief. You and Fredi will clap hands for the country about Lakelands.

Have you heard from her of her is it anything, Victor? Nataly asked him shyly; with not much of hope, but some readiness to be inflated. The prospect of an entry into the big new house, among a new society, begirt by the old nightmares and fretting devils, drew her into staring daylight or furnace-light.

He answered: Mrs. Burman has definitely decided. In pity of us?to be free herself?who can say! She s a woman with a conscienceof a kind: slow, but it brings her to the point at last. You know her, know her well. Fenellan has it from her lawyerher lawyer! a Mr. Carting; a thoroughly trustworthy man

Fenellan, as a reporter?

Thoroughly to be trusted on serious matters. I understand that Mrs. Burman:her health is awful: yes, yes; poor woman! poor woman! we feel for her:she has come to perceive her duty to those she leaves behind. Consider: she HAS used the rod. She must be tired outif human. And she is. One remembers traits.

Victor sketched one or two of the traits allusively to the hearer acquainted with them. They received strong colouring from middays Old Veuve in his blood. His voice and words had a swing of conviction: they imparted vinousness to a heart athirst.

The histrionic self-deceiver may be a persuasive deceiver of another, who is again, though not ignorant of his character, tempted to swallow the nostrums which have made so gallant a man of him: his imperceptible sensible playing of the part, on a substratum of sincereness, induces fascinatingly to the like performance on our side, that we may be armed as he is for enjoying the coveted reality through the partial simulation of possessing it. And this is not a task to us when we have looked our actor in the face, and seen him bear the look, knowing that he is not intentionally untruthful; and when we incline to be captivated by his rare theatrical air of confidence; when it seems as an outside thought striking us, that he may not be altogether deceived in the present instance; when suddenly an expectation of the thing desired is born and swims in a credible featureless vagueness on a misty scene: and when we are being kissed and the blood is warmed. In fine, here as everywhere along our history, when the sensations are spirited up to drown the mind, we become drift-matter of tides, metal to magnets. And if we are women, who commonly allow the lead to men, getting it for themselves only by snaky cunning or desperate adventure, credulitythe continued trust in the manis the alternative of despair.

But, Victor, I must ask, Nataly said: you have it through Simeon Fenellan; you have not yourself received the letter from her lawyer?

My knowledge of what she would do near the gravepoor soul, yes! I shall soon be hearing.

You do not, propose to enter this place untiluntil it is over?

We enter this place, my love, without any sort of ceremony. We live there independently, and we can we have quarters there for our friends. Our one neighbour is Londonthere! And at Lakelands we are able to entertain London and wife;our friends, in short; with some, what we have to call, satellites. You inspect the house and grounds to-morrowsure to be fair. Put aside all but the pleasant recollections of Craye and Creckholt. We start on a different footing. Really nothing can be simpler. Keeping your town-house, you are now and then in residence at Lakelands, where you entertain your set, teach them to feel the charm of country life: we have everything about us; could have had our own milk and cream up to London the last two months. Was it very naughty?I should have exploded my surprise! You will see, you will see to-morrow.

Nataly nodded, as required. Good news from the mines? she said.

He answered: Dartrey isyes, poor fellow! Dartrey is confident, from the yield of stones, that the value of our claim counts in a number of millions. The same with the gold. But gold-mines are lodgeings, not homes.

Oh, Victor! if money! But why did you say poor fellow of Dartrey Fenellan?

You know how hes

Yes, yes, she said hastily. But has that woman been causing fresh anxiety?

And Natatas chief hero on earth is not to be named a poor fellow, said he, after a negative of the head on a subject they neither of them liked to touch.

Then he remembered that Dartrey Fenellan was actually a lucky fellow; and he would have mentioned the circumstance confided to him by Simeon, but for a downright dread of renewing his painful fit of envy. He had also another, more distant, very faint idea, that it had better not be mentioned just yet, for a reason entirely undefined.

He consulted his watch. The maid had come in for the robeing of her mistress. Natalys mind had turned to the little country cottage which would have given her such great happiness. She raised her eyes to him; she could not check their filling; they were like a river carrying moonlight on the smooth roll of a fall.

He loved the eyes, disliked the water in them. With an impatient, There, there! and a smart affectionate look, he retired, thinking in our old satirical vein of the hopeless endeavour to satisfy a womans mind without the intrusion of hard material statements, facts. Even the best of women, even the most beautiful, and in their moments of supremest beauty, have this gross ravenousness for facts. You must not expect to appease them unless you administer solids. It would almost appear that man is exclusively imaginative and poetical; and that his mate, the fair, the graceful, the bewitching, with the sweetest and purest of natures, cannot help being something of a groveller.

Nataly had likewise her thoughts.

CHAPTER VII. BETWEEN A GENERAL MAN OF THIN WORLD AND A PROFESSIONAL

Rather earlier in the afternoon of that day, Simeon Fenellan, thinking of the many things which are nothing, and so melancholy for lack of amusements properly to follow Old Veuve, that he could ask himself whether he had not done a deed of night, to be blinking at his fellow-men like an owl all mad for the revellers hoots and flights and mice and moony roundels behind his hypocritical judex air of moping composure, chanced on Mr. Carling, the solicitor, where Lincolns Inn pumps lawyers into Fleet Street through the drain-pipe of Chancery Lane. He was in the state of the wine when a shake will rouse the sluggish sparkles to foam. Sight of Mrs. Burmans legal adviser had instantly this effect upon him: his bubbling friendliness for Victor Radnor, and the desire of the voice in his bosom for ears to hear, combined like the rush of two waves together, upon which he may be figured as the boat: he caught at Mr. Carlings hand more heartily than their acquaintanceship quite sanctioned; but his grasp and his look of overflowing were immediately privileged; Mr. Carling, enjoying this anecdotal gentlemans conversation as he did, liked the warmth, and was flattered during the squeeze with a prospect of his wife and friends partaking of the fun from time to time.

Rather earlier in the afternoon of that day, Simeon Fenellan, thinking of the many things which are nothing, and so melancholy for lack of amusements properly to follow Old Veuve, that he could ask himself whether he had not done a deed of night, to be blinking at his fellow-men like an owl all mad for the revellers hoots and flights and mice and moony roundels behind his hypocritical judex air of moping composure, chanced on Mr. Carling, the solicitor, where Lincolns Inn pumps lawyers into Fleet Street through the drain-pipe of Chancery Lane. He was in the state of the wine when a shake will rouse the sluggish sparkles to foam. Sight of Mrs. Burmans legal adviser had instantly this effect upon him: his bubbling friendliness for Victor Radnor, and the desire of the voice in his bosom for ears to hear, combined like the rush of two waves together, upon which he may be figured as the boat: he caught at Mr. Carlings hand more heartily than their acquaintanceship quite sanctioned; but his grasp and his look of overflowing were immediately privileged; Mr. Carling, enjoying this anecdotal gentlemans conversation as he did, liked the warmth, and was flattered during the squeeze with a prospect of his wife and friends partaking of the fun from time to time.

Fenellan fluted: Ah? He had scent, in the eulogy of a story grown flat as Election hats, of a good sort of man in the way of men, a step or two behind the man of the world. He expressed profound regret at not having heard the silvery ring of the ladys laughter.

Carling genially conceived a real gratification to be conferred on his wife. Perhaps you will some day honour us?

You spread gold-leaf over the days to come, sir.

Now, if I might name the day?

You lump the gold and make it current coin;says the blushing bride, who ought not to have delivered herself so boldly, but she had forgotten her bashful part and spoilt the scene, though, luckily for the damsel, her swain was a lover of nature, and finding her at full charge, named the very next day of the year, and held her to it, like the complimentary tyrant he was.

To-morrow, then! said Carling intrepidly, on a dash of enthusiasm, through a haggard thought of his wife and the cook and the netting of friends at short notice. He urged his eagerness to ask whether he might indeed have the satisfaction of naming to-morrow.

With happiness, Fenellan responded.

Mrs. Carling was therefore in for it.

To-morrow, half-past seven: as for company to meet you, we will do what we can. You go Westward?

To bed with the sun, said the reveller.

Perhaps by Covent Garden? I must give orders there.

Orders given in Covent Garden, paint a picture for bachelors of the domestic Paradise an angel must help them to enter! Ah, dear me! Is there anything on earth to compare with the pride of a virtuous life?

I was married at four and twenty, said Carling, as one taking up the expository second verse of a poem; plain facts, but weighty and necessary: my wife was in her twentieth year: we have five children; two sons, three daughters, one married, with a baby. So we are grandfather and mother, and have never regretted the first step, I may say for both of us.

Think of it! Good luck and sagacity joined hands overhead on the day you proposed to the lady: and Id say, that all the credit is with her, but that it would seem to be at the expense of her sex.

She would be the last to wish it, I assure you.

True of all good women! You encourage me, touching a matter of deep interest, not unknown to you. The ladys warm heart will be with us. Probably she sees Mrs. Burman?

Mrs. Burman Radnor receives no one.

A comic severity in the tone of the correction was deferentially accepted by Fenellan.

Pardon. She flies her flag, with her captain wanting; and she has, queerly, the right. So, then, the worthy dame who receives no one, might be treated, it struck us, conversationally, as a respectable harbour-hulk, with more history than top-honours. But she has the indubitable legal right to fly themto proclaim it; for it means little else.

You would have her, if I follow you, divest herself of the name?

Pin me to no significations, if you please, O shrewdest of the legal sort! I have wit enough to escape you there. She is no doubt an estimable person.

Well, she is; she is in her way a very good woman.

Ah. You see, Mr. Carling, I cannot bring myself to rank her beside another lady, who has already claimed the title of me; and you will forgive me if I say, that your word good has a look of being stuck upon the features we know of her, like a coquettes naughty patch; or its a jewel of an eye in an ebony idol: though Ive heard tell she performs her charities.

I believe she gives away three parts of her income and that is large.

Leaving the good lady a fine fat fourth.

Compare her with other wealthy people.

And does she outshine the majority still with her personal attractions.

Carling was instigated by the praise he had bestowed on his wife to separate himself from a female pretender so ludicrous; he sought Fenellans nearest ear, emitting the sound of hum.

In other respects, unimpeachable!

Oh! quite!

There was a fishfag of classic Billingsgate, who had broken her husbands nose with a sledgehammer fist, and swore before the magistrate, that the man hadnt a crease to complain of in her character. We are condemned, Mr. Carling, sometimes to suffer in the flesh for the assurance we receive of the inviolability of those moral fortifications.

Character, yes, valuableI do wish you had named to-night for doing me the honour of dining with me! said the lawyer impulsively, in a rapture of the appetite for anecdotes. I have a ripe Pichon Longueville, 65.

A fine wine. Seductive to hear of. I dine with my friend Victor Radnor. And he knows wine.There are good women in the world, Mr. Carling, whose characters

Of course, of course there are; and I could name you some. We lawyers!

You encounter all sorts.

Between ourselves, Carling sank his tones to the indiscriminate, where it mingled with the roar of London.

You do? Fenellan hazarded a guess at having heard enlightened liberal opinions regarding the sex. Right!

Many!

I back you, Mr. Carling.

The lawyer pushed to yet more confidential communication, up to the verge of the clearly audible: he spoke of examples, experiences. Fenellan backed him further.

Acting on behalf of clients, you understand, Mr. Fenellan.

Professional, but charitable; I am with you.

Poor things! weif we have to condemnwe owe them something.

A kind word for poor Polly Venus, with all the world against her! She doesnt hear it often.

A real service, Carlings voice deepened to the legal without prejudice,I am bound to say ita service to Society.

Ah, poor wench! And the kind of reward she gets?

We can hardly examine mysterious dispensations here we are to make the best we can of it.

For the creature Societys indebted to? True. And am I to think theres a body of legal gentlemen to join with you, my friend, in founding an Institution to distribute funds to preach charity over the country, and win compassion for her, as one of the principal persons of her time, that Societys indebted to for whatever its indebted for?