Can You Forgive Her?

  CHAPTER XXII.

  Dandy and Flirt.

  Alice reached the Matching Road Station about three o'clock in theafternoon without adventure, and immediately on the stopping of thetrain became aware that all trouble was off her own hands. A servantin livery came to the open window, and touching his hat to her,inquired if she were Miss Vavasor. Then her dressing-bag and shawlsand cloaks were taken from her, and she was conveyed through thestation by the station-master on one side of her, the footman on theother, and by the railway porter behind. She instantly perceived thatshe had become possessed of great privileges by belonging even for atime to Matching Priory, and that she was essentially growing upwardstowards the light.

  Outside, on the broad drive before the little station, she saw anomnibus that was going to the small town of Matching, intended forpeople who had not grown upwards as had been her lot; and she sawalso a light stylish-looking cart which she would have called aWhitechapel had she been properly instructed in such matters, anda little low open carriage with two beautiful small horses, inwhich was sitting a lady enveloped in furs. Of course this was LadyGlencora. Another servant was standing on the ground, holding thehorses of the carriage and the cart.

  "Dear Alice, I'm so glad you've come," said a voice from thefurs. "Look here, dear; your maid can go in the dog-cart withyour things,"--it wasn't a dog-cart, but Lady Glencora knew nobetter;--"she'll be quite comfortable there; and do you get in here.Are you very cold?"

  "Oh, no; not cold at all."

  "But it is awfully cold. You've been in the stuffy carriage, butyou'll find it cold enough out here, I can tell you."

  "Oh! Lady Glencora, I am so sorry that I've brought you out on sucha morning," said Alice, getting in and taking the place assigned hernext to the charioteer.

  "What nonsense! Sorry! Why I've looked forward to meeting you allalone, ever since I knew you were coming. If it had snowed all themorning I should have come just the same. I drive out almost everyday when I'm down here,--that is, when the house is not too crowded,or I can make an excuse. Wrap these things over you; there are plentyof them. You shall drive if you like." Alice, however, declined thedriving, expressing her gratitude in what prettiest words she couldfind.

  "I like driving better than anything, I think. Mr. Palliser doesn'tlike ladies to hunt, and of course it wouldn't do as he does not hunthimself. I do ride, but he never gets on horseback. I almost fancy Ishould like to drive four-in-hand,--only I know I should be afraid."

  "It would look very terrible," said Alice.

  "Yes; wouldn't it? The look would be the worst of it; as it is allthe world over. Sometimes I wish there were no such things as looks.I don't mean anything improper, you know; only one does get sohampered, right and left, for fear of Mrs. Grundy. I endeavour to gostraight, and get along pretty well on the whole, I suppose. Baker,you must put Dandy in the bar; he pulls so, going home, that I can'thold him in the check." She stopped the horses, and Baker, a verycompletely-got-up groom of some forty years of age, who sat behind,got down and put the impetuous Dandy "in the bar," thereby changingthe rein, so that the curb was brought to bear on him. "They'recalled Dandy and Flirt," continued Lady Glencora, speaking to Alice."Ain't they a beautiful match? The Duke gave them to me and namedthem himself. Did you ever see the Duke?"

  "Baker, you must put Dandy in the bar."]

  "Never," said Alice.

  "He won't be here before Christmas, but you shall be introduced someday in London. He's an excellent creature and I'm a great pet of his;though, after all, I never speak half a dozen words to him when I seehim. He's one of those people who never talk. I'm one of those wholike talking, as you'll find out. I think it runs in families; andthe Pallisers are non-talkers. That doesn't mean that they are notspeakers, for Mr. Palliser has plenty to say in the House, and theydeclare that he's one of the few public men who've got lungs enoughto make a financial statement without breaking down."

  Alice was aware that she had as yet hardly spoken herself, andbegan to bethink herself that she didn't know what to say. Had LadyGlencora paused on the subject of Dandy and Flirt, she might havemanaged to be enthusiastic about the horses, but she could notdiscuss freely the general silence of the Palliser family, nor theexcellent lungs, as regarded public purposes, of the one who wasthe husband of her present friend. So she asked how far it was toMatching Priory.

  "You're not tired of me already, I hope," said Lady Glencora.

  "I didn't mean that," said Alice. "I delight in the drive. Butsomehow one expects Matching Station to be near Matching."

  "Ah, yes; that's a great cheat. It's not Matching Station at allbut Matching Road Station, and it's eight miles. It is a great bore,for though the omnibus brings our parcels, we have to be constantlysending over, and it's very expensive, I can assure you. I want Mr.Palliser to have a branch, but he says he would have to take all theshares himself, and that would cost more, I suppose."

  "Is there a town at Matching?"

  "Oh, a little bit of a place. I'll go round by it if you like, and inat the further gate."

  "Oh, no!" said Alice.

  "Ah, but I should like. It was a borough once, and belonged to theDuke; but they put it out at the Reform Bill. They made some kind ofbargain;--he was to keep either Silverbridge or Matching, but notboth. Mr. Palliser sits for Silverbridge, you know. The Duke choseSilverbridge,--or rather his father did, as he was then going tobuild his great place in Barsetshire;--that's near Silverbridge. Butthe Matching people haven't forgiven him yet. He was sitting forMatching himself when the Reform Bill passed. Then his father died,and he hasn't lived there much since. It's a great deal nicer placethan Gatherum Castle, only not half so grand. I hate grandeur; don'tyou?"

  "I never tried much of it, as you have."

  "Come now; that's not fair. There's no one in the world less grandthan I am."

  "I mean that I've not had grand people about me."

  "Having cut all your cousins,--and Lady Midlothian in particular,like a naughty girl as you are. I was so angry with you when youaccused me of selling you about that. You ought to have known thatI was the last person in the world to have done such a thing."

  "I did not think you meant to sell me, but I thought--"

  "Yes, you did, Alice. I know what you thought; you thought that LadyMidlothian was making a tool of me that I might bring you under herthumb, so that she might bully you into Mr. Grey's arms. That's whatyou thought. I don't know that I was at all entitled to your goodopinion, but I was not entitled to that special bad opinion."

  "I had no bad opinion--but it was so necessary that I should guardmyself."

  "You shall be guarded. I'll take you under my shield. Mr. Grey shan'tbe named to you, except that I shall expect you to tell me all aboutit; and you must tell me all about that dangerous cousin, too, ofwhom they were saying such terrible things down in Scotland. I hadheard of him before." These last words Lady Glencora spoke in a lowervoice and in an altered tone,--slowly, as though she were thinking ofsomething that pained her. It was from Burgo Fitzgerald that she hadheard of George Vavasor.

  Alice did not know what to say. She found it impossible to discussall the most secret and deepest of her feelings out in that opencarriage, perhaps in the hearing of the servant behind, on this herfirst meeting with her cousin,--of whom, in fact, she knew verylittle. She had not intended to discuss these things at all, andcertainly not in such a manner as this. So she remained silent. "Thisis the beginning of the park," said Lady Glencora, pointing to agrand old ruin of an oak tree, which stood on the wide margin of theroad, outside the rounded corner of the park palings, propped up witha skeleton of supporting sticks all round it. "And that is Matchingoak, under which Coeur de Lion or Edward the Third, I forget which,was met by Sir Guy de Palisere as he came from the war, or fromhunting, or something of that kind. It was the king, you know, whohad been fighting or whatever it was, and Sir Guy entertained himwhen he was very tired. Jeffrey Palliser, who is my husband's cousin,says that old Sir Guy luckily p
ulled out his brandy-flask. But theking immediately gave him all the lands of Matching,--only there wasa priory then and a lot of monks, and I don't quite understand howthat was. But I know one of the younger brothers always used to beabbot and sit in the House of Lords. And the king gave him Littleburyat the same time, which is about seven miles away from here. AsJeffrey Palliser says, it was a great deal of money for a pull at hisflask. Jeffrey Palliser is here now, and I hope you'll like him. IfI have no child, and Mr. Palliser were not to marry again, Jeffreywould be the heir." And here again her voice was low and slow, andaltogether changed in its tone.

  "I suppose that's the way most of the old families got theirestates."

  "Either so, or by robbery. Many of them were terrible thieves, mydear, and I dare say Sir Guy was no better than he should be. Butsince that they have always called some of the Pallisers Plantagenet.My husband's name is Plantagenet. The Duke is called GeorgePlantagenet, and the king was his godfather. The queen is mygodmother, I believe, but I don't know that I'm much the better forit. There's no use in godfathers and godmothers;--do you think thereis?"

  "Not much as it's managed now."

  "If I had a child,-- Oh, Alice, it's a dreadful thing not to have achild when so much depends on it!"

  "But you're such a short time married yet."

  "Ah, well; I can see it in his eyes when he asks me questions; but Idon't think he'd say an unkind word, not if his own position dependedon it. Ah, well; this is Matching. That other gate we passed, whereDandy wanted to turn in,--that's where we usually go up, but I'vebrought you round to show you the town. That's the inn,--whoever canpossibly come to stay there I don't know; I never saw anybody go inor out. That's the baker who bakes our bread,--we baked it at thehouse at first, but nobody could eat it; and I know that that manthere mends Mr. Palliser's shoes. He's very particular about hisshoes. We shall see the church as we go in at the other gate. Itis in the park, and is very pretty,--but not half so pretty as thepriory ruins close to the house. The ruins are our great lion. I doso love to wander about them at moonlight. I often think of you whenI do; I don't know why.--But I do know why, and I'll tell you someday. Come, Miss Flirt!"

  As they drove up through the park, Lady Glencora pointed out firstthe church and then the ruins, through the midst of which the roadran, and then they were at once before the front door. The cornerof the modern house came within two hundred yards of the gateway ofthe old priory. It was a large building, very pretty, with two longfronts; but it was no more than a house. It was not a palace, nor acastle, nor was it hardly to be called a mansion. It was built withgabled roofs, four of which formed the side from which the windows ofthe drawing-rooms opened out upon a lawn which separated the housefrom the old ruins, and which indeed surrounded the ruins, and wentinside them, forming the present flooring of the old chapel, andthe old refectory, and the old cloisters. Much of the cloistersindeed was standing, and there the stone pavement remained; but thesquare of the cloisters was all turfed, and in the middle of it stooda large modern stone vase, out of the broad basin of which hungflowering creepers and green tendrils.

  As Lady Glencora drove up to the door, a gentleman, who had heard thesound of the wheels, came forth to meet them. "There's Mr. Palliser,"said she; "that shows that you are an honoured guest, for you maybe sure that he is hard at work and would not have come out foranybody else. Plantagenet, here is Miss Vavasor, perished. Alice, myhusband." Then Mr. Palliser put forth his hand and helped her out ofthe carriage.

  "I hope you've not found it very cold," said he. "The winter has comeupon us quite suddenly."

  He said nothing more to her than this, till he met her again beforedinner. He was a tall thin man, apparently not more than thirty yearsof age, looking in all respects like a gentleman, but with nothing inhis appearance that was remarkable. It was a face that you might seeand forget, and see again and forget again; and yet when you lookedat it and pulled it to pieces, you found that it was a fairly goodface, showing intellect in the forehead, and much character in themouth. The eyes too, though not to be called bright, had alwayssomething to say for themselves, looking as though they had a realmeaning. But the outline of the face was almost insignificant, beingtoo thin; and he wore no beard to give it character. But, indeed, Mr.Palliser was a man who had never thought of assisting his position inthe world by his outward appearance. Not to be looked at, but to beread about in the newspapers, was his ambition. Men said that he wasto be Chancellor of the Exchequer, and no one thought of suggestingthat the insignificance of his face would stand in his way.

  "Are the people all out?" his wife asked him.

  "The men have not come in from shooting;--at least I think not;--andsome of the ladies are driving, I suppose. But I haven't seen anybodysince you went."

  "Of course you haven't. He never has time, Alice, to see any one.But we'll go up-stairs, dear. I told them to let us have tea in mydressing-room, as I thought you'd like that better than going intothe drawing-room before you had taken off your things. You must befamished, I know. Then you can come down, or if you want to avoidtwo dressings you can sit over the fire up-stairs till dinner-time."So saying she skipped up-stairs and Alice followed her. "Here's mydressing-room, and here's your room all but opposite. You look outinto the park. It's pretty, isn't it? But come into my dressing-room,and see the ruins out of the window."

  Alice followed Lady Glencora across the passage into what shecalled her dressing-room, and there found herself surrounded byan infinitude of feminine luxuries. The prettiest of tables werethere;--the easiest of chairs;--the most costly of cabinets;--thequaintest of old china ornaments. It was bright with the gayestcolours,--made pleasant to the eye with the binding of many books,having nymphs painted on the ceiling and little Cupids on the doors."Isn't it pretty?" she said, turning quickly on Alice. "I call itmy dressing-room because in that way I can keep people out of it,but I have my brushes and soap in a little closet there, and myclothes,--my clothes are everywhere I suppose, only there are noneof them here. Isn't it pretty?"

  "Very pretty."

  "The Duke did it all. He understands such things thoroughly. Nowto Mr. Palliser a dressing-room is a dressing-room, and a bedroom abedroom. He cares for nothing being pretty; not even his wife, or hewouldn't have married me."

  "You wouldn't say that if you meant it."

  "Well, I don't know. Sometimes when I look at myself, when I simplyam myself, with no making up or grimacing, you know, I think I'm theugliest young woman the sun ever shone on. And in ten years' timeI shall be the ugliest old woman. Only think,--my hair is beginningto get grey, and I'm not twenty-one yet. Look at it;" and she liftedup the wavy locks just above her ear. "But there's one comfort; hedoesn't care about beauty. How old are you?"

  "Over five-and-twenty," said Alice.

  "Nonsense;--then I oughtn't to have asked you. I am so sorry."

  "That's nonsense at any rate. Why should you think I should beashamed of my age?"

  "I don't know why, only somehow, people are; and I didn't think youwere so old. Five-and-twenty seems so old to me. It would be nothingif you were married; only, you see, you won't get married."

  "Perhaps I may yet; some day."

  "Of course you will. You'll have to give way. You'll find thatthey'll get the better of you. Your father will storm at you, andLady Macleod will preach at you, and Lady Midlothian will jump uponyou."

  "I'm not a bit afraid of Lady Midlothian."

  "I know what it is, my dear, to be jumped upon. We talked with suchhorror of the French people giving their daughters in marriage, justas they might sell a house or a field, but we do exactly the samething ourselves. When they all come upon you in earnest how are youto stand against them? How can any girl do it?"

  "I think I shall be able."

  "To be sure you're older,--and you are not so heavily weighted. Butnever mind; I didn't mean to talk about that;--not yet at any rate.Well, now, my dear, I must go down. The Duchess of St. Bungay is here,and Mr. Palliser will be angry
if I don't do pretty to her. The Dukeis to be the new President of the Council, or rather, I believe heis President now. I try to remember it all, but it is so hard whenone doesn't really care two pence how it goes. Not but what I'm veryanxious that Mr. Palliser should be Chancellor of the Exchequer. Andnow, will you remain here, or will you come down with me, or will yougo to your own room, and I'll call for you when I go down to dinner?We dine at eight."

  Alice decided that she would stay in her own room till dinner time,and was taken there by Lady Glencora. She found her maid unpackingher clothes, and for a while employed herself in assisting at thework; but that was soon done, and then she was left alone. "I shallfeel so strange, ma'am, among all those people down-stairs," said thegirl. "They all seem to look at me as though they didn't know who Iwas."

  "You'll get over that soon, Jane."

  "I suppose I shall; but you see, they're all like knowing each other,miss."

  Alice, when she sat down alone, felt herself to be very much in thesame condition as her maid. What would the Duchess of St. Bungay or Mr.Jeffrey Palliser,--who himself might live to be a duke if things wentwell for him,--care for her? As to Mr. Palliser, the master of thehouse, it was already evident to her that he would not put himselfout of his way for her. Had she not done wrong to come there? If itwere possible for her to fly away, back to the dullness of Queen AnneStreet, or even to the preachings of Lady Macleod, would she not doso immediately? What business had she,--she asked herself,--to cometo such a house as that? Lady Glencora was very kind to her, butfrightened her even by her kindness. Moreover, she was aware thatLady Glencora could not devote herself especially to any such guestas she was. Lady Glencora must of course look after her duchesses,and do pretty, as she called it, to her husband's important politicalalliances.

  And then she began to think about Lady Glencora herself. What astrange, weird nature she was,--with her round blue eyes and wavyhair, looking sometimes like a child and sometimes almost like an oldwoman! And how she talked! What things she said, and what terribleforebodings she uttered of stranger things that she meant to say! Whyhad she at their first meeting made that allusion to the mode of herown betrothal,--and then, checking herself for speaking of it sosoon, almost declare that she meant to speak more of it hereafter?"She should never mention it to any one," said Alice to herself."If her lot in life has not satisfied her, there is so much themore reason why she should not mention it." Then Alice protested toherself that no father, no aunt, no Lady Midlothian should persuadeher into a marriage of which she feared the consequences. But LadyGlencora had made for herself excuses which were not altogetheruntrue. She had been very young, and had been terribly weighted withher wealth.

  And it seemed to Alice that her cousin had told her everything inthat hour and a half that they had been together. She had givena whole history of her husband and of herself. She had said howindifferent he was to her pleasures, and how vainly she strove tointerest herself in his pursuits. And then, as yet, she was childlessand without prospect of a child, when, as she herself had said,--"somuch depended on it." It was very strange to Alice that all thisshould have been already told to her. And why should Lady Glencorathink of Alice when she walked out among the priory ruins bymoonlight?

  The two hours seemed to her very long,--as though she were passingher time in absolute seclusion at Matching. Of course she did notdare to go down-stairs. But at last her maid came to dress her.

  "How do you get on below, Jane?" her mistress asked her.

  "Why, miss, they are uncommon civil, and I don't think after all itwill be so bad. We had our teas very comfortable in the housekeeper'sroom. There are five or six of us altogether, all ladies'-maids,miss; and there's nothing on earth to do all the day long, only sitand do a little needlework over the fire."

  A few minutes before eight Lady Glencora knocked at Alice's door, andtook her arm to lead her to the drawing-room. Alice saw that she wasmagnificently dressed, with an enormous expanse of robe, and that herlocks had been so managed that no one could suspect the presence ofa grey hair. Indeed, with all her magnificence, she looked almost achild. "Let me see," she said, as they went down-stairs together."I'll tell Jeffrey to take you in to dinner. He's about the easiestyoung man we have here. He rather turns up his nose at everything,but that doesn't make him the less agreeable; does it, dear?--unlesshe turns up his nose at you, you know."

  "But perhaps he will."

  "No; he won't do that. That would be uncourteous,--and he's the mostcourteous man in the world. There's nobody here, you see," she saidas they entered the room, "and I didn't suppose there would be. It'salways proper to be first in one's own house. I do so try to beproper,--and it is such trouble. Talking of people earning theirbread, Alice;--I'm sure I earn mine. Oh dear!--what fun it would beto be sitting somewhere in Asia, eating a chicken with one's fingers,and lighting a big fire outside one's tent to keep off the lions andtigers. Fancy your being on one side of the fire and the lions andtigers on the other, grinning at you through the flames!" Then LadyGlencora strove to look like a lion, and grinned at herself in theglass.

  "That sort of grin wouldn't frighten me," said Alice.

  "I dare say not. I have been reading about it in that woman'stravels. Oh, here they are, and I mustn't make any more faces.Duchess, do come to the fire. I hope you've got warm again. This ismy cousin, Miss Vavasor."

  The Duchess made a stiff little bow of condescension, and thendeclared that she was charmingly warm. "I don't know how you managein your house, but the staircases are so comfortable. Now atLongroyston we've taken all the trouble in the world,--put downhot-water pipes all over the house, and everything else that could bethought of, and yet, you can't move about the place without meetingwith draughts at every corner of the passages." The Duchess spokewith an enormous emphasis on every other word, sometimes putting sogreat a stress on some special syllable, as almost to bring her voiceto a whistle. This she had done with the word "pipes" to a greatdegree,--so that Alice never afterwards forgot the hot-water pipesof Longroyston. "I was telling Lady Glencora, Miss Palliser, thatI never knew a house so warm as this,--or, I'm sorry to say,"--andhere the emphasis was very strong on the word sorry,--"so cold asLongroyston." And the tone in which Longroyston was uttered wouldalmost have drawn tears from a critical audience in the pit of aplayhouse. The Duchess was a woman of about forty, very handsome, butwith no meaning in her beauty, carrying a good fixed colour in herface, which did not look like paint, but which probably had receivedsome little assistance from art. She was a well-built, sizeablewoman, with good proportions and fine health,--but a fool. She hadaddressed herself to one Miss Palliser; but two Miss Pallisers,cousins of Plantagenet Palliser, had entered the room at the sametime, of whom I may say, whatever other traits of character they mayhave possessed, that at any rate they were not fools.

  "It's always easy to warm a small house like this," said MissPalliser, whose Christian names, unfortunately for her, wereIphigenia Theodata, and who by her cousin and sister was calledIphy--"and I suppose equally difficult to warm a large one such asLongroyston." The other Miss Palliser had been christened Euphemia.

  "We've got no pipes, Duchess, at any rate," said Lady Glencora; andAlice, as she sat listening, thought she discerned in Lady Glencora'spronunciation of the word pipes an almost hidden imitation of theDuchess's whistle. It must have been so, for at the moment LadyGlencora's eye met Alice's for an instant, and was then withdrawn, sothat Alice was compelled to think that her friend and cousin was notalways quite successful in those struggles she made to be proper.

  Then the gentlemen came in one after another, and other ladies, tillabout thirty people were assembled. Mr. Palliser came up and spokeanother word to Alice in a kind voice,--meant to express some senseof connection if not cousinship. "My wife has been thinking so muchof your coming. I hope we shall be able to amuse you." Alice, who hadalready begun to feel desolate, was grateful, and made up her mindthat she would try to like Mr. Palliser.

  Jeffrey Palliser wa
s almost the last in the room, but directly heentered Lady Glencora got up from her seat, and met him as he wascoming into the crowd. "You must take my cousin, Alice Vavasor, into dinner," she said, "and;--will you oblige me to-day?"

  "Yes;--as you ask me like that."

  "Then try to make her comfortable." After that she introduced them,and Jeffrey Palliser stood opposite to Alice, talking to her, tilldinner was announced.