CHAPTER IX--BIRDS IN THE BUSH
Rosa, having no relation that she knew of in the world, had, from theseventh year of her age, known no home but the Nuns' House, and no motherbut Miss Twinkleton. Her remembrance of her own mother was of a prettylittle creature like herself (not much older than herself it seemed toher), who had been brought home in her father's arms, drowned. The fatalaccident had happened at a party of pleasure. Every fold and colour inthe pretty summer dress, and even the long wet hair, with scatteredpetals of ruined flowers still clinging to it, as the dead young figure,in its sad, sad beauty lay upon the bed, were fixed indelibly in Rosa'srecollection. So were the wild despair and the subsequent bowed-downgrief of her poor young father, who died broken-hearted on the firstanniversary of that hard day.
The betrothal of Rosa grew out of the soothing of his year of mentaldistress by his fast friend and old college companion, Drood: wholikewise had been left a widower in his youth. But he, too, went thesilent road into which all earthly pilgrimages merge, some sooner, andsome later; and thus the young couple had come to be as they were.
The atmosphere of pity surrounding the little orphan girl when she firstcame to Cloisterham, had never cleared away. It had taken brighter huesas she grew older, happier, prettier; now it had been golden, nowroseate, and now azure; but it had always adorned her with some softlight of its own. The general desire to console and caress her, hadcaused her to be treated in the beginning as a child much younger thanher years; the same desire had caused her to be still petted when she wasa child no longer. Who should be her favourite, who should anticipatethis or that small present, or do her this or that small service; whoshould take her home for the holidays; who should write to her theoftenest when they were separated, and whom she would most rejoice to seeagain when they were reunited; even these gentle rivalries were notwithout their slight dashes of bitterness in the Nuns' House. Well forthe poor Nuns in their day, if they hid no harder strife under theirveils and rosaries!
Thus Rosa had grown to be an amiable, giddy, wilful, winning littlecreature; spoilt, in the sense of counting upon kindness from all aroundher; but not in the sense of repaying it with indifference. Possessingan exhaustless well of affection in her nature, its sparkling waters hadfreshened and brightened the Nuns' House for years, and yet its depthshad never yet been moved: what might betide when that came to pass; whatdeveloping changes might fall upon the heedless head, and light heart,then; remained to be seen.
By what means the news that there had been a quarrel between the twoyoung men overnight, involving even some kind of onslaught by Mr. Nevilleupon Edwin Drood, got into Miss Twinkleton's establishment beforebreakfast, it is impossible to say. Whether it was brought in by thebirds of the air, or came blowing in with the very air itself, when thecasement windows were set open; whether the baker brought it kneaded intothe bread, or the milkman delivered it as part of the adulteration of hismilk; or the housemaids, beating the dust out of their mats against thegateposts, received it in exchange deposited on the mats by the townatmosphere; certain it is that the news permeated every gable of the oldbuilding before Miss Twinkleton was down, and that Miss Twinkletonherself received it through Mrs. Tisher, while yet in the act ofdressing; or (as she might have expressed the phrase to a parent orguardian of a mythological turn) of sacrificing to the Graces.
Miss Landless's brother had thrown a bottle at Mr. Edwin Drood.
Miss Landless's brother had thrown a knife at Mr. Edwin Drood.
A knife became suggestive of a fork; and Miss Landless's brother hadthrown a fork at Mr. Edwin Drood.
As in the governing precedence of Peter Piper, alleged to have picked thepeck of pickled pepper, it was held physically desirable to have evidenceof the existence of the peck of pickled pepper which Peter Piper wasalleged to have picked; so, in this case, it was held psychologicallyimportant to know why Miss Landless's brother threw a bottle, knife, orfork-or bottle, knife, _and_ fork--for the cook had been given tounderstand it was all three--at Mr. Edwin Drood?
Well, then. Miss Landless's brother had said he admired Miss Bud. Mr.Edwin Drood had said to Miss Landless's brother that he had no businessto admire Miss Bud. Miss Landless's brother had then 'up'd' (this wasthe cook's exact information) with the bottle, knife, fork, and decanter(the decanter now coolly flying at everybody's head, without the leastintroduction), and thrown them all at Mr. Edwin Drood.
Poor little Rosa put a forefinger into each of her ears when theserumours began to circulate, and retired into a corner, beseeching not tobe told any more; but Miss Landless, begging permission of MissTwinkleton to go and speak with her brother, and pretty plainly showingthat she would take it if it were not given, struck out the more definitecourse of going to Mr. Crisparkle's for accurate intelligence.
When she came back (being first closeted with Miss Twinkleton, in orderthat anything objectionable in her tidings might be retained by thatdiscreet filter), she imparted to Rosa only, what had taken place;dwelling with a flushed cheek on the provocation her brother hadreceived, but almost limiting it to that last gross affront as crowning'some other words between them,' and, out of consideration for her newfriend, passing lightly over the fact that the other words had originatedin her lover's taking things in general so very easily. To Rosa direct,she brought a petition from her brother that she would forgive him; and,having delivered it with sisterly earnestness, made an end of thesubject.
It was reserved for Miss Twinkleton to tone down the public mind of theNuns' House. That lady, therefore, entering in a stately manner whatplebeians might have called the school-room, but what, in the patricianlanguage of the head of the Nuns' House, was euphuistically, not to sayround-aboutedly, denominated 'the apartment allotted to study,' andsaying with a forensic air, 'Ladies!' all rose. Mrs. Tisher at the sametime grouped herself behind her chief, as representing Queen Elizabeth'sfirst historical female friend at Tilbury fort. Miss Twinkleton thenproceeded to remark that Rumour, Ladies, had been represented by the bardof Avon--needless were it to mention the immortal SHAKESPEARE, alsocalled the Swan of his native river, not improbably with some referenceto the ancient superstition that that bird of graceful plumage (MissJennings will please stand upright) sang sweetly on the approach ofdeath, for which we have no ornithological authority,--Rumour, Ladies,had been represented by that bard--hem!--
'who drew The celebrated Jew,'
as painted full of tongues. Rumour in Cloisterham (Miss Ferdinand willhonour me with her attention) was no exception to the great limner'sportrait of Rumour elsewhere. A slight _fracas_ between two younggentlemen occurring last night within a hundred miles of these peacefulwalls (Miss Ferdinand, being apparently incorrigible, will have thekindness to write out this evening, in the original language, the firstfour fables of our vivacious neighbour, Monsieur La Fontaine) had beenvery grossly exaggerated by Rumour's voice. In the first alarm andanxiety arising from our sympathy with a sweet young friend, not whollyto be dissociated from one of the gladiators in the bloodless arena inquestion (the impropriety of Miss Reynolds's appearing to stab herself inthe hand with a pin, is far too obvious, and too glaringly unladylike, tobe pointed out), we descended from our maiden elevation to discuss thisuncongenial and this unfit theme. Responsible inquiries having assuredus that it was but one of those 'airy nothings' pointed at by the Poet(whose name and date of birth Miss Giggles will supply within half anhour), we would now discard the subject, and concentrate our minds uponthe grateful labours of the day.
But the subject so survived all day, nevertheless, that Miss Ferdinandgot into new trouble by surreptitiously clapping on a paper moustache atdinner-time, and going through the motions of aiming a water-bottle atMiss Giggles, who drew a table-spoon in defence.
Now, Rosa thought of this unlucky quarrel a great deal, and thought of itwith an uncomfortable feeling that she was involved in it, as cause, orconsequence, or what not, through being in a false position altogether asto her marriage engagement.
Never free from such uneasiness when she waswith her affianced husband, it was not likely that she would be free fromit when they were apart. To-day, too, she was cast in upon herself, anddeprived of the relief of talking freely with her new friend, because thequarrel had been with Helena's brother, and Helena undisguisedly avoidedthe subject as a delicate and difficult one to herself. At this criticaltime, of all times, Rosa's guardian was announced as having come to seeher.
Mr. Grewgious had been well selected for his trust, as a man ofincorruptible integrity, but certainly for no other appropriate qualitydiscernible on the surface. He was an arid, sandy man, who, if he hadbeen put into a grinding-mill, looked as if he would have groundimmediately into high-dried snuff. He had a scanty flat crop of hair, incolour and consistency like some very mangy yellow fur tippet; it was sounlike hair, that it must have been a wig, but for the stupendousimprobability of anybody's voluntarily sporting such a head. The littleplay of feature that his face presented, was cut deep into it, in a fewhard curves that made it more like work; and he had certain notches inhis forehead, which looked as though Nature had been about to touch theminto sensibility or refinement, when she had impatiently thrown away thechisel, and said: 'I really cannot be worried to finish off this man; lethim go as he is.'
With too great length of throat at his upper end, and too much ankle-boneand heel at his lower; with an awkward and hesitating manner; with ashambling walk; and with what is called a near sight--which perhapsprevented his observing how much white cotton stocking he displayed tothe public eye, in contrast with his black suit--Mr. Grewgious still hadsome strange capacity in him of making on the whole an agreeableimpression.
Mr. Grewgious was discovered by his ward, much discomfited by being inMiss Twinkleton's company in Miss Twinkleton's own sacred room. Dimforebodings of being examined in something, and not coming well out ofit, seemed to oppress the poor gentleman when found in thesecircumstances.
'My dear, how do you do? I am glad to see you. My dear, how muchimproved you are. Permit me to hand you a chair, my dear.'
Miss Twinkleton rose at her little writing-table, saying, with generalsweetness, as to the polite Universe: 'Will you permit me to retire?'
'By no means, madam, on my account. I beg that you will not move.'
'I must entreat permission to _move_,' returned Miss Twinkleton,repeating the word with a charming grace; 'but I will not withdraw, sinceyou are so obliging. If I wheel my desk to this corner window, shall Ibe in the way?'
'Madam! In the way!'
'You are very kind.--Rosa, my dear, you will be under no restraint, I amsure.'
Here Mr. Grewgious, left by the fire with Rosa, said again: 'My dear, howdo you do? I am glad to see you, my dear.' And having waited for her tosit down, sat down himself.
'My visits,' said Mr. Grewgious, 'are, like those of the angels--not thatI compare myself to an angel.'
'No, sir,' said Rosa.
'Not by any means,' assented Mr. Grewgious. 'I merely refer to myvisits, which are few and far between. The angels are, we know verywell, up-stairs.'
Miss Twinkleton looked round with a kind of stiff stare.
'I refer, my dear,' said Mr. Grewgious, laying his hand on Rosa's, as thepossibility thrilled through his frame of his otherwise seeming to takethe awful liberty of calling Miss Twinkleton my dear; 'I refer to theother young ladies.'
Miss Twinkleton resumed her writing.
Mr. Grewgious, with a sense of not having managed his opening point quiteas neatly as he might have desired, smoothed his head from back to frontas if he had just dived, and were pressing the water out--this smoothingaction, however superfluous, was habitual with him--and took apocket-book from his coat-pocket, and a stump of black-lead pencil fromhis waistcoat-pocket.
'I made,' he said, turning the leaves: 'I made a guiding memorandum orso--as I usually do, for I have no conversational powers whatever--towhich I will, with your permission, my dear, refer. "Well and happy."Truly. You are well and happy, my dear? You look so.'
'Yes, indeed, sir,' answered Rosa.
'For which,' said Mr. Grewgious, with a bend of his head towards thecorner window, 'our warmest acknowledgments are due, and I am sure arerendered, to the maternal kindness and the constant care andconsideration of the lady whom I have now the honour to see before me.'
This point, again, made but a lame departure from Mr. Grewgious, andnever got to its destination; for, Miss Twinkleton, feeling that thecourtesies required her to be by this time quite outside theconversation, was biting the end of her pen, and looking upward, aswaiting for the descent of an idea from any member of the Celestial Ninewho might have one to spare.
Mr. Grewgious smoothed his smooth head again, and then made anotherreference to his pocket-book; lining out 'well and happy,' as disposedof.
'"Pounds, shillings, and pence," is my next note. A dry subject for ayoung lady, but an important subject too. Life is pounds, shillings, andpence. Death is--' A sudden recollection of the death of her twoparents seemed to stop him, and he said in a softer tone, and evidentlyinserting the negative as an after-thought: 'Death is _not_ pounds,shillings, and pence.'
His voice was as hard and dry as himself, and Fancy might have ground itstraight, like himself, into high-dried snuff. And yet, through the verylimited means of expression that he possessed, he seemed to expresskindness. If Nature had but finished him off, kindness might have beenrecognisable in his face at this moment. But if the notches in hisforehead wouldn't fuse together, and if his face would work and couldn'tplay, what could he do, poor man!
'"Pounds, shillings, and pence." You find your allowance alwayssufficient for your wants, my dear?'
Rosa wanted for nothing, and therefore it was ample.
'And you are not in debt?'
Rosa laughed at the idea of being in debt. It seemed, to herinexperience, a comical vagary of the imagination. Mr. Grewgiousstretched his near sight to be sure that this was her view of the case.'Ah!' he said, as comment, with a furtive glance towards Miss Twinkleton,and lining out pounds, shillings, and pence: 'I spoke of having got amongthe angels! So I did!'
Rosa felt what his next memorandum would prove to be, and was blushingand folding a crease in her dress with one embarrassed hand, long beforehe found it.
'"Marriage." Hem!' Mr. Grewgious carried his smoothing hand down overhis eyes and nose, and even chin, before drawing his chair a littlenearer, and speaking a little more confidentially: 'I now touch, my dear,upon the point that is the direct cause of my troubling you with thepresent visit. Othenwise, being a particularly Angular man, I should nothave intruded here. I am the last man to intrude into a sphere for whichI am so entirely unfitted. I feel, on these premises, as if I was abear--with the cramp--in a youthful Cotillon.'
His ungainliness gave him enough of the air of his simile to set Rosa offlaughing heartily.
'It strikes you in the same light,' said Mr. Grewgious, with perfectcalmness. 'Just so. To return to my memorandum. Mr. Edwin has been toand fro here, as was arranged. You have mentioned that, in yourquarterly letters to me. And you like him, and he likes you.'
'I _like_ him very much, sir,' rejoined Rosa.
'So I said, my dear,' returned her guardian, for whose ear the timidemphasis was much too fine. 'Good. And you correspond.'
'We write to one another,' said Rosa, pouting, as she recalled theirepistolary differences.
'Such is the meaning that I attach to the word "correspond" in thisapplication, my dear,' said Mr. Grewgious. 'Good. All goes well, timeworks on, and at this next Christmas-time it will become necessary, as amatter of form, to give the exemplary lady in the corner window, to whomwe are so much indebted, business notice of your departure in the ensuinghalf-year. Your relations with her are far more than business relations,no doubt; but a residue of business remains in them, and business isbusiness ever. I am a particularly Angular man,' proceeded Mr.Grewgious, as if it suddenly occurred to him to mention it,
'and I am notused to give anything away. If, for these two reasons, some competentProxy would give _you_ away, I should take it very kindly.'
Rosa intimated, with her eyes on the ground, that she thought asubstitute might be found, if required.
'Surely, surely,' said Mr. Grewgious. 'For instance, the gentleman whoteaches Dancing here--he would know how to do it with graceful propriety.He would advance and retire in a manner satisfactory to the feelings ofthe officiating clergyman, and of yourself, and the bridegroom, and allparties concerned. I am--I am a particularly Angular man,' said Mr.Grewgious, as if he had made up his mind to screw it out at last: 'andshould only blunder.'
Rosa sat still and silent. Perhaps her mind had not got quite so far asthe ceremony yet, but was lagging on the way there.
'Memorandum, "Will." Now, my dear,' said Mr. Grewgious, referring to hisnotes, disposing of 'Marriage' with his pencil, and taking a paper fromhis pocket; 'although. I have before possessed you with the contents ofyour father's will, I think it right at this time to leave a certifiedcopy of it in your hands. And although Mr. Edwin is also aware of itscontents, I think it right at this time likewise to place a certifiedcopy of it in Mr. Jasper's hand--'
'Not in his own!' asked Rosa, looking up quickly. 'Cannot the copy go toEddy himself?'
'Why, yes, my dear, if you particularly wish it; but I spoke of Mr.Jasper as being his trustee.'
'I do particularly wish it, if you please,' said Rosa, hurriedly andearnestly; 'I don't like Mr. Jasper to come between us, in any way.'
'It is natural, I suppose,' said Mr. Grewgious, 'that your young husbandshould be all in all. Yes. You observe that I say, I suppose. The factis, I am a particularly Unnatural man, and I don't know from my ownknowledge.'
Rosa looked at him with some wonder.
'I mean,' he explained, 'that young ways were never my ways. I was theonly offspring of parents far advanced in life, and I half believe I wasborn advanced in life myself. No personality is intended towards thename you will so soon change, when I remark that while the general growthof people seem to have come into existence, buds, I seem to have comeinto existence a chip. I was a chip--and a very dry one--when I firstbecame aware of myself. Respecting the other certified copy, your wishshall be complied with. Respecting your inheritance, I think you knowall. It is an annuity of two hundred and fifty pounds. The savings uponthat annuity, and some other items to your credit, all duly carried toaccount, with vouchers, will place you in possession of a lump-sum ofmoney, rather exceeding Seventeen Hundred Pounds. I am empowered toadvance the cost of your preparations for your marriage out of that fund.All is told.'
'Will you please tell me,' said Rosa, taking the paper with a prettilyknitted brow, but not opening it: 'whether I am right in what I am goingto say? I can understand what you tell me, so very much better than whatI read in law-writings. My poor papa and Eddy's father made theiragreement together, as very dear and firm and fast friends, in order thatwe, too, might be very dear and firm and fast friends after them?'
'Just so.'
'For the lasting good of both of us, and the lasting happiness of both ofus?'
'Just so.'
'That we might be to one another even much more than they had been to oneanother?'
'Just so.'
'It was not bound upon Eddy, and it was not bound upon me, by anyforfeit, in case--'
'Don't be agitated, my dear. In the case that it brings tears into youraffectionate eyes even to picture to yourself--in the case of your notmarrying one another--no, no forfeiture on either side. You would thenhave been my ward until you were of age. No worse would have befallenyou. Bad enough perhaps!'
'And Eddy?'
'He would have come into his partnership derived from his father, andinto its arrears to his credit (if any), on attaining his majority, justas now.'
Rosa, with her perplexed face and knitted brow, bit the corner of herattested copy, as she sat with her head on one side, looking abstractedlyon the floor, and smoothing it with her foot.
'In short,' said Mr. Grewgious, 'this betrothal is a wish, a sentiment, afriendly project, tenderly expressed on both sides. That it was stronglyfelt, and that there was a lively hope that it would prosper, there canbe no doubt. When you were both children, you began to be accustomed toit, and it _has_ prospered. But circumstances alter cases; and I madethis visit to-day, partly, indeed principally, to discharge myself of theduty of telling you, my dear, that two young people can only be betrothedin marriage (except as a matter of convenience, and therefore mockery andmisery) of their own free will, their own attachment, and their ownassurance (it may or it may not prove a mistaken one, but we must takeour chance of that), that they are suited to each other, and will makeeach other happy. Is it to be supposed, for example, that if either ofyour fathers were living now, and had any mistrust on that subject, hismind would not be changed by the change of circumstances involved in thechange of your years? Untenable, unreasonable, inconclusive, andpreposterous!'
Mr. Grewgious said all this, as if he were reading it aloud; or, stillmore, as if he were repeating a lesson. So expressionless of anyapproach to spontaneity were his face and manner.
'I have now, my dear,' he added, blurring out 'Will' with his pencil,'discharged myself of what is doubtless a formal duty in this case, butstill a duty in such a case. Memorandum, "Wishes." My dear, is thereany wish of yours that I can further?'
Rosa shook her head, with an almost plaintive air of hesitation in wantof help.
'Is there any instruction that I can take from you with reference to youraffairs?'
'I--I should like to settle them with Eddy first, if you please,' saidRosa, plaiting the crease in her dress.
'Surely, surely,' returned Mr. Grewgious. 'You two should be of one mindin all things. Is the young gentleman expected shortly?'
'He has gone away only this morning. He will be back at Christmas.'
'Nothing could happen better. You will, on his return at Christmas,arrange all matters of detail with him; you will then communicate withme; and I will discharge myself (as a mere business acquaintance) of mybusiness responsibilities towards the accomplished lady in the cornerwindow. They will accrue at that season.' Blurring pencil once again.'Memorandum, "Leave." Yes. I will now, my dear, take my leave.'
'Could I,' said Rosa, rising, as he jerked out of his chair in hisungainly way: 'could I ask you, most kindly to come to me at Christmas,if I had anything particular to say to you?'
'Why, certainly, certainly,' he rejoined; apparently--if such a word canbe used of one who had no apparent lights or shadows abouthim--complimented by the question. 'As a particularly Angular man, I donot fit smoothly into the social circle, and consequently I have no otherengagement at Christmas-time than to partake, on the twenty-fifth, of aboiled turkey and celery sauce with a--with a particularly Angular clerkI have the good fortune to possess, whose father, being a Norfolk farmer,sends him up (the turkey up), as a present to me, from the neighbourhoodof Norwich. I should be quite proud of your wishing to see me, my dear.As a professional Receiver of rents, so very few people _do_ wish to seeme, that the novelty would be bracing.'
For his ready acquiescence, the grateful Rosa put her hands upon hisshoulders, stood on tiptoe, and instantly kissed him.
'Lord bless me!' cried Mr. Grewgious. 'Thank you, my dear! The honouris almost equal to the pleasure. Miss Twinkleton, madam, I have had amost satisfactory conversation with my ward, and I will now release youfrom the incumbrance of my presence.'
'Nay, sir,' rejoined Miss Twinkleton, rising with a graciouscondescension: 'say not incumbrance. Not so, by any means. I cannotpermit you to say so.'
'Thank you, madam. I have read in the newspapers,' said Mr. Grewgious,stammering a little, 'that when a distinguished visitor (not that I amone: far from it) goes to a school (not that this is one: far from it),he asks for a holiday, or some sort of grace. It being now the afternoonin the--College--of which
you are the eminent head, the young ladiesmight gain nothing, except in name, by having the rest of the day allowedthem. But if there is any young lady at all under a cloud, might Isolicit--'
'Ah, Mr. Grewgious, Mr. Grewgious!' cried Miss Twinkleton, with achastely-rallying forefinger. 'O you gentlemen, you gentlemen! Fie forshame, that you are so hard upon us poor maligned disciplinarians of oursex, for your sakes! But as Miss Ferdinand is at present weighed down byan incubus'--Miss Twinkleton might have said a pen-and-ink-ubus ofwriting out Monsieur La Fontaine--'go to her, Rosa my dear, and tell herthe penalty is remitted, in deference to the intercession of yourguardian, Mr. Grewgious.'
Miss Twinkleton here achieved a curtsey, suggestive of marvels happeningto her respected legs, and which she came out of nobly, three yardsbehind her starting-point.
As he held it incumbent upon him to call on Mr. Jasper before leavingCloisterham, Mr. Grewgious went to the gatehouse, and climbed its posternstair. But Mr. Jasper's door being closed, and presenting on a slip ofpaper the word 'Cathedral,' the fact of its being service-time was borneinto the mind of Mr. Grewgious. So he descended the stair again, and,crossing the Close, paused at the great western folding-door of theCathedral, which stood open on the fine and bright, though short-lived,afternoon, for the airing of the place.
'Dear me,' said Mr. Grewgious, peeping in, 'it's like looking down thethroat of Old Time.'
Old Time heaved a mouldy sigh from tomb and arch and vault; and gloomyshadows began to deepen in corners; and damps began to rise from greenpatches of stone; and jewels, cast upon the pavement of the nave fromstained glass by the declining sun, began to perish. Within thegrill-gate of the chancel, up the steps surmounted loomingly by thefast-darkening organ, white robes could be dimly seen, and one feeblevoice, rising and falling in a cracked, monotonous mutter, could atintervals be faintly heard. In the free outer air, the river, the greenpastures, and the brown arable lands, the teeming hills and dales, werereddened by the sunset: while the distant little windows in windmills andfarm homesteads, shone, patches of bright beaten gold. In the Cathedral,all became gray, murky, and sepulchral, and the cracked monotonous mutterwent on like a dying voice, until the organ and the choir burst forth,and drowned it in a sea of music. Then, the sea fell, and the dyingvoice made another feeble effort, and then the sea rose high, and beatits life out, and lashed the roof, and surged among the arches, andpierced the heights of the great tower; and then the sea was dry, and allwas still.
Mr. Grewgious had by that time walked to the chancel-steps, where he metthe living waters coming out.
'Nothing is the matter?' Thus Jasper accosted him, rather quickly. 'Youhave not been sent for?'
'Not at all, not at all. I came down of my own accord. I have been tomy pretty ward's, and am now homeward bound again.'
'You found her thriving?'
'Blooming indeed. Most blooming. I merely came to tell her, seriously,what a betrothal by deceased parents is.'
'And what is it--according to your judgment?'
Mr. Grewgious noticed the whiteness of the lips that asked the question,and put it down to the chilling account of the Cathedral.
'I merely came to tell her that it could not be considered binding,against any such reason for its dissolution as a want of affection, orwant of disposition to carry it into effect, on the side of eitherparty.'
'May I ask, had you any especial reason for telling her that?'
Mr. Grewgious answered somewhat sharply: 'The especial reason of doing myduty, sir. Simply that.' Then he added: 'Come, Mr. Jasper; I know youraffection for your nephew, and that you are quick to feel on his behalf.I assure you that this implies not the least doubt of, or disrespect to,your nephew.'
'You could not,' returned Jasper, with a friendly pressure of his arm, asthey walked on side by side, 'speak more handsomely.'
Mr. Grewgious pulled off his hat to smooth his head, and, having smoothedit, nodded it contentedly, and put his hat on again.
'I will wager,' said Jasper, smiling--his lips were still so white thathe was conscious of it, and bit and moistened them while speaking: 'Iwill wager that she hinted no wish to be released from Ned.'
'And you will win your wager, if you do,' retorted Mr. Grewgious. 'Weshould allow some margin for little maidenly delicacies in a youngmotherless creature, under such circumstances, I suppose; it is not in myline; what do you think?'
'There can be no doubt of it.'
'I am glad you say so. Because,' proceeded Mr. Grewgious, who had allthis time very knowingly felt his way round to action on his remembranceof what she had said of Jasper himself: 'because she seems to have somelittle delicate instinct that all preliminary arrangements had best bemade between Mr. Edwin Drood and herself, don't you see? She don't wantus, don't you know?'
Jasper touched himself on the breast, and said, somewhat indistinctly:'You mean me.'
Mr. Grewgious touched himself on the breast, and said: 'I mean us.Therefore, let them have their little discussions and councils together,when Mr. Edwin Drood comes back here at Christmas; and then you and Iwill step in, and put the final touches to the business.'
'So, you settled with her that you would come back at Christmas?'observed Jasper. 'I see! Mr. Grewgious, as you quite fairly said justnow, there is such an exceptional attachment between my nephew and me,that I am more sensitive for the dear, fortunate, happy, happy fellowthan for myself. But it is only right that the young lady should beconsidered, as you have pointed out, and that I should accept my cue fromyou. I accept it. I understand that at Christmas they will completetheir preparations for May, and that their marriage will be put in finaltrain by themselves, and that nothing will remain for us but to putourselves in train also, and have everything ready for our formal releasefrom our trusts, on Edwin's birthday.'
'That is my understanding,' assented Mr. Grewgious, as they shook handsto part. 'God bless them both!'
'God save them both!' cried Jasper.
'I said, bless them,' remarked the former, looking back over hisshoulder.
'I said, save them,' returned the latter. 'Is there any difference?'