Yet he proposed to mine in the valley, observed Mr. Wyvern, half to himself, casting a glance at the window.
Mrs. Waltham did not at first see the connection between this and what she had been saying. Then it occurred to her that Mr. Wyvern was aristocratic in his views.
To be sure, she said, one expects to find a little of the originalof the money-making spirit. Of course such a thing would never have suggested itself to the Eldons. And in fact very little of the lands remained to them. Mr. Mutimer bought a great deal from other people.
As Mr. Wyvern sat brooding, Mrs. Waltham asked
You have seen Mrs. Eldon?
Not yet. She is too unwell to receive visits.
Yes, poor thing, she is a great invalid. I thought, perhaps, you. But I know she likes to be very quiet. What a strange thing about Mr. Eldon, is it not? You know that he has never come yet; not even to the funeral.
Singular!
An inexplicable thing! There has never been a shadow of disagreement between them.
Mr. Eldon is abroad, I believe? said the clergyman musingly.
Abroad? Oh dear, no! At least, I. Is there news of his being abroad?
Mr. Wyvern merely shook his head.
As far as we know, Mrs. Waltham continued, rather disturbed by the suggestion, he is at Oxford.
A student?
Yes. He is quite a youthonly two-and-twenty.
There was a knock at the door, and a maid-servant entered to ask if she should lay the table for tea. Mrs. Waltham assented; then, to her visitor
You will do us the pleasure of drinking a cup of tea, Mr. Wyvern? we make a meal of it, in the country way. My boy and girl are sure to be in directly.
I should like to make their acquaintance, was the grave response.
Alfred, my son, the lady proceeded, is with us for his Easter holiday. Belwick is so short a distance away, and yet too far to allow of his living here, unfortunately.
His age?
Just one-and-twenty.
The same age as my own boy.
Oh, you have a son?
A youngster, studying music in Germany. I have just been spending a fortnight with him.
How delightful! If only poor Alfred could have pursued some moremore liberal occupation! Unhappily, we had small choice. Friends were good enough to offer him exceptional advantages not long after his fathers death, and I was only too glad to accept the opening. I believe he is a clever boy; only such a dreadful Radical. She laughed, with a deprecatory motion of the hands. Poor Adela and he are at daggers drawn; no doubt it is some terrible argument that detains them now on the road. I cant think how he got his views; certainly his father never inculcated them.
The air, Mrs. Waltham, the air, murmured the clergyman.
The lady was not quite sure that she understood the remark, but the necessity of reply was obviated by the entrance of the young man in question. Alfred was somewhat undergrown, but of solid build. He walked in a sturdy and rather aggressive way, and his plump face seemed to indicate an intelligence, bright, indeed, but of the less refined order. His head was held stiffly, and his whole bearing betrayed a desire to make the most of his defective stature. His shake of the hand was an abrupt downward jerk, like a pull at a bell-rope. In the smile with which he met Mr. Wyvern a supercilious frame of mind was not altogether concealed; he seemed anxious to have it understood that in him the clerical attire inspired nothing whatever of superstitious reverence. Reverence, in truth, was not Mr. Walthams failing.
Mr. Wyvern, as his habit was at introductions, spoke no words, but held the youths hand for a few moments and looked him in the eyes. Alfred turned his head aside uneasily, and was a trifle ruddy in the cheeks when at length he regained his liberty.
By-the-by, he remarked to his mother when he had seated himself, with crossed legs, Eldon has turned up at last. He passed us in a cab, or so Adela said. I didnt catch a glimpse of the individual.
Really! exclaimed Mrs. Waltham. He was coming from Agworth station?
I suppose so. There was a trunk on the four-wheeler. Adela says he looked ill, though I dont see how she discovered so much.
I have no doubt she is right. He must have been ill.
Mr. Wyvern, in contrast with his habit, was paying marked attention; he leaned forward, with a hand on each knee. In the meanwhile the preparations for tea had progressed, and as Mrs. Waltham rose at the sight of the teapot being brought in, her daughter entered the room. Adela was taller by half a head than her brother; she was slim and graceful. The air had made her face bloom, and the smile which was added as she drew near to the vicar enhanced the charm of a countenance at all times charming. She was not less than ladylike in self-possession, but Mr. Wyverns towering sableness clearly awed her a little. For an instant her eyes drooped, but at once she raised them and met the severe gaze with unflinching orbs. Releasing her hand, Mr. Wyvern performed a singular little ceremony: he laid his right palm very gently on her nutbrown hair, and his lips moved. At the same time he all but smiled.
Alfreds face was a delightful study the while; it said so clearly, Confound the parsons impudence! Mrs. Waltham, on the other hand, looked pleased as she rustled to her place at the tea-tray.
So Mr. Eldon has come? she said, glancing at Adela. Alfred says he looks ill.
Mother, interposed the young man, pray be accurate. I distinctly stated that I did not even see him, and should not have known that it was he at all. Adela is responsible for that assertion.
I just saw his face, the girl said naturally. I thought he looked ill.
Mr. Wyvern addressed to her a question about her walk, and for a few minutes they conversed together. There was a fresh simplicity in Adelas way of speaking which harmonised well with her appearance and with the scene in which she moved. A gentle English girl, this dainty home, set in so fair and peaceful a corner of the world, was just the abode one would have chosen for her. Her beauty seemed a part of the burgeoning spring-time, She was not lavish of her smiles; a timid seriousness marked her manner to the clergyman, and she replied to his deliberately-posed questions with a gravity respectful alike of herself and of him.
In front of Mr. Wyvern stood a large cake, of which a portion was already sliced. The vicar, at Adelas invitation, accepted a piece of the cake; having eaten this, he accepted another; then yet another. His absence had come back upon him, and he talked he continued to eat portions of the cake, till but a small fraction of the original structure remained on the dish. Alfred, keenly observant of what was going on, pursed his lips from time to time and looked at his mother with exaggerated gravity, leading her eyes to the vanishing cake. Even Adela could not but remark the reverend gentlemans abnormal appetite, but she steadily discouraged her brothers attempts to draw her into the joke. At length it came to pass that Mr. Wyvern himself, stretching his hand mechanically to the dish, became aware that he had exhibited his appreciation of the sweet food in a degree not altogether sanctioned by usage. He fixed his eyes on the tablecloth, and was silent for a while.
As soon as the vicar had taken his departure Alfred threw himself into a chair, thrust out his legs, and exploded in laughter.
By Jove! he shouted. If that man doesnt experience symptoms of disorder! Why, I should be prostrate for a week if I consumed a quarter of what he has put out of sight.
By Jove! he shouted. If that man doesnt experience symptoms of disorder! Why, I should be prostrate for a week if I consumed a quarter of what he has put out of sight.
Alfred, you are shockingly rude, reproved his mother, though herself laughing. Mr. Wyvern is absorbed in thought.
Well, he has taken the best means, I should say, to remind himself of actualities, rejoined the youth. But what a man he is! How did he behave in church this morning?
You should have come to see, said Mrs. Waltham, mildly censuring her sons disregard of the means of grace.
I like Mr. Wyvern, observed Adela, who was standing at the window looking out upon the dusking valley.
Oh, you would like any man in parsonical livery, scoffed her brother.
Alfred shortly betook himself to the garden, where, in spite of a decided freshness in the atmosphere, he walked for half-an-hour smoking a pipe. When he entered the house again, he met Adela at the foot of the stairs.
Mrs. Mewling has just come in, she whispered.
All right, Ill come up with you, was the reply. Heaven defend me from her small talk!
They ascended to a very little room, which made a kind of boudoir for Adela. Alfred struck a match and lit a lamp, disclosing a nest of wonderful purity and neatness. On the table a drawing-board was slanted; it showed a text of Scripture in process of illumination.
Still at that kind of thing! exclaimed Alfred. My good child, if you want to paint, why dont you paint in earnest? Really, Adela, I must enter a protest! Remember that you are eighteen years of age.
I dont forget it, Alfred.
At eight-and-twenty, at eight-and-thirty, you propose still to be at the same stage of development?
I dont think well talk of it, said the girl quietly. We dont understand each other.
Of course not, but we might, if only youd read sensible books that I could give you.
Adela shook her head. The philosophical youth sank into his favourite attitudelegs extended, hands in pockets, nose in air.
So, I suppose, he said presently, that fellow really has been ill?
Adela was sitting in thought; she looked up with a shadow of annoyance on her face.
That fellow?
Eldon, you know.
I want to ask you a question, said his sister, interlocking her fingers and pressing them against her throat. Why do you always speak in a contemptuous way of Mr. Eldon?
You know I dont like the individual.
What cause has the individual given you?
Hes a snob.
Im not sure that I know what that means, replied Adela, after thinking for a moment with downcast eyes.
Because you never read anything. Hes a fellow who raises a great edifice of pretence on rotten foundations.
What can you mean? Mr. Eldon is a gentleman. What pretence is he guilty of?
Gentleman! uttered her brother with much scorn. Upon my word, that is the vulgarest of denominations! Who doesnt call himself so nowadays! A mans a man, I take it, and what need is there to lengthen the name? Thank the powers, we dont live in feudal ages. Besides, he doesnt seem to me to be what you imply.
Adela had taken a book; in turning over the pages, she said
No doubt you mean, Alfred, that, for some reason, you are determined to view him with prejudice.
The reason is obvious enough. The fellows behaviour is detestable; he looks at you from head to foot as if you were applying for a place in his stable. Whenever I want an example of a contemptible aristocrat, theres Eldon ready-made. Contemptible, because hes such a sham; as if everybody didnt know his history and his circumstances!
Everybody doesnt regard them as you do. There is nothing whatever dishonourable in his position.
Not in sponging on a rich old plebeian, a man he despises, and living in idleness at his expense?
I dont believe Mr. Eldon does anything of the kind. Since his brothers death he has had a sufficient income of his own, so mother says.
Sufficient income of his own! Bah! Five or six hundred a year; likely he lives on that! Besides, havent they soaped old Mutimer into leaving them all his property? The whole affair is the best illustration one could possibly have of what aristocrats are brought to in a democratic age. First of all, Godfrey Eldon marries Mutimers daughter; you are at liberty to believe, if you like, that he would have married her just the same if she hadnt had a penny. The old fellow is flattered. They see the hold they have, and stick to him like leeches. All for want of money, of course. Our aristocrats begin to see that they cant get on without money nowadays; they cant live on family records, and they find that people wont toady to them in the old way just on account of their name. Why, it began with Eldons fatherdidnt he put his pride in his pocket, and try to make cash by speculation? Now I can respect him: he at all events faced the facts of the case honestly. The despicable thing in this Hubert Eldon is that, having got money once more, and in the dirtiest way, he puts on the top-sawyer just as if there was nothing to be ashamed of. If he and his mother were living in a small way on their few hundreds a year, he might haw-haw as much as he liked, and I should only laugh at him; hed be a fool, but an honest one. But catch them doing that! Family prides too insubstantial a thing, you see. Well, as I said, they illustrate the natural course of things, the transition from the old age to the new. If Eldon has sons, theyll go in for commerce, and make themselves, if they can, millionaires; but by that time theyll dispense with airs and insolencesee if they dont.
Adela kept her eyes on the pages before her, but she was listening intently. A sort of verisimilitude in the picture drawn by her Radical-minded brother could not escape her; her thought was troubled. When she spoke it was without resentment, but gravely.
I dont like this spirit in judging of people. You know quite well, Alfred, how easy it is to see the whole story in quite another way. You begin by a harsh and worldly judgment, and it leads you to misrepresent all that follows. I refuse to believe that Godfrey Eldon married Mrs. Mutimers daughter for her money.
Alfred laughed aloud.
Of course you do, sister Adela! Women wont admit such things; thats their aristocratic feeling!
And that is, too, worthless and a sham? Will that, too, be done away with in the new age?
Oh, depend upon it! When women are educated, they will take the world as it is, and decline to live on illusions.
Then how glad I am to have been left without education!
In the meantime a conversation of a very lively kind was in progress between Mrs. Waltham and her visitor, Mrs. Mewling. The latter was a lady whose position much resembled Mrs. Walthams: she inhabited a small house in the village street, and spent most of her time in going about to hear or to tell some new thing. She came in this evening with a look presageful of news indeed.
Ive been to Belwick to-day, she began, sitting very close to Mrs. Waltham, whose lap she kept touching as she spoke with excited fluency. Ive seen Mrs. Yottle. My dear, what do you think she has told me?
Mrs. Yottle was the wife of a legal gentleman who had been in Mr. Mutimers confidence. Mrs. Waltham at once divined intelligence affecting the Eldons.
What? she asked eagerly.