CHAPTER LXXVIII.
Mr. Cheesacre's Fate.
It must be acknowledged that Mrs. Greenow was a woman of greatresources, and that she would be very prudent for others, though Ifear the verdict of those who know her must go against her in regardto prudence in herself. Her marriage with Captain Bellfield was arash act,--certainly a rash act, although she did take so much carein securing the payment of her own income into her own hands; but themanner in which she made him live discreetly for some months previousto his marriage, the tact with which she renewed the friendship whichhad existed between him and Mr. Cheesacre, and the skill she used inat last providing Mr. Cheesacre with a wife, oblige us all to admitthat, as a general, she had great powers.
When Alice reached Vavasor Hall she found Charlie Fairstairsestablished there on a long visit. Charlie and Kate were to bethe two bridesmaids, and, as Kate told her cousin in their firstconfidential intercourse on the evening of Alice's arrival, therewere already great hopes in the household that the master ofOileymead might be brought to surrender. It was true that Charlie hadnot a shilling, and that Mr. Cheesacre had set his heart on marryingan heiress. It was true that Miss Fairstairs had always stood low inthe gentleman's estimation, as being connected with people who wereas much without rank and fashion as they were without money, and thatthe gentleman loved rank and fashion dearly. It was true that Charliewas no beauty, and that Cheesacre had an eye for feminine charms. Itwas true that he had despised Charlie, and had spoken his contemptopenly;--that he had seen the girl on the sands at Yarmouth everysummer for the last ten years, and about the streets of Norwich everywinter, and had learned to regard her as a thing poor and despicable,because she was common in his eyes. It is thus that the Cheesacresjudge of people. But in spite of all these difficulties Mrs. Greenowhad taken up poor Charlie's case, and Kate Vavasor expressed a strongopinion that her aunt would win.
"What has she done to the man?" Alice asked.
"Coaxed him; simply that. She has made herself so much his masterthat he doesn't know how to say no to her. Sometimes I have thoughtthat he might possibly run away, but I have abandoned that fear now.She has little confidences with him from day to day, which are soalluring to him that he cannot tear himself off. In the middle of oneof them he will find himself engaged."
"But, the unfortunate girl! Won't it be a wretched marriage for her?"
"Not at all. She'll make him a very good wife. He's one of those mento whom any woman, after a little time, will come to be the same.He'll be rough with her once a month or so, and perhaps tell herthat she brought no money with her; but that won't break any bones,and Charlie will know how to fight her own battles. She'll save hismoney if she brings none, and in a few years' time they will quiteunderstand each other."
Mr. Cheesacre and Captain Bellfield were at this time living inlodgings together, at Penrith, but came over and spent every otherday at Vavasor, returning always to their lodgings in the evening.It wanted but eight days to the marriage when Alice arrived, andpreparations for that event were in progress. "It's to be very quiet,Alice," said her aunt; "as quiet as such a thing can be made. I owethat to the memory of the departed one. I know that he is lookingdown upon me, and that he approves all that I do. Indeed, he toldme once that he did not want me to live desolate for his sake. If Ididn't feel that he was looking down and approving it, I should bewretched indeed." She took Alice up to see her trousseau, and gavethe other expectant bride some little hints which, under presentcircumstances, might be useful. "Yes, indeed; only three-and-sixpencea piece, and they're quite real. Feel them. You wouldn't get them inthe shops under six." Alice did feel them, and wondered whether heraunt could have saved the half-crown honestly. "I had my eyes aboutme when I was up in town, my dear. And look here, these are quitenew,--have never been on yet, and I had them when I was marriedbefore. There is nothing like being careful, my dear. I hatemeanness, as everybody knows who knows me; but there is nothing likebeing careful. You have a lot of rich people about you just now, andwill have ever so many things given you which you won't want. Doyou put them all by, and be careful. They may turn out useful, youknow." Saying this, Mrs. Greenow folded up, among her present bridalbelongings, sundries of the wealth which had accrued to her in anearlier stage of her career.
And then Mrs. Greenow opened her mind to Alice about the Captain."He's as good as gold, my dear; he is, indeed,--in his own way. Ofcourse, I know that he has faults, and I should like to know whohasn't. Although poor dear Greenow certainly was more without themthan anybody else I ever knew." As this remembrance came upon Mrs.Greenow she put her handkerchief to her eyes, and Alice observedthat that which she held still bore the deepest hem of widowhood.They would be used, no doubt, till the last day, and then put by inlavender for future possible occasions. "Bellfield may have been alittle extravagant. I dare say he has. But how can a man help beingextravagant when he hasn't got any regular income? He has beenill-treated in his profession very. It makes my blood curdle when Ithink of it. After fighting his country's battles through blood, anddust, and wounds;--but I'll tell you about that another time."
"I suppose a man seldom does make a fortune, aunt, by being asoldier?"
"Never, my dear; much better be a tailor. Don't you ever marry asoldier. But as I was saying, he is the best-tempered creaturealive, and the staunchest friend I ever met. You should hear what Mr.Cheesacre says of him! But you don't know Mr. Cheesacre?"
"No, aunt, not yet. If you remember, he went away before I saw himwhen he came here before."
"Yes, I know, poor fellow! Between you and me, Kate might have hadhim if she liked; but perhaps Kate was right."
"I don't think he would have suited Kate at all."
"Because of the farmyard, you mean? Kate shouldn't give herself airs.Money's never dirty, you know. But perhaps it's all for the best.There's a sweet girl here to whom he is violently attached, and who Ihope will become Mrs. Cheesacre. But as I was saying, the friendshipbetween these two men is quite wonderful, and I have always observedthat when a man can create that kind of affection in the bosom ofanother man, he invariably is,--the sort of man,--the man, in fact,who makes a good husband."
Alice knew the story of Charlie Fairstairs and her hopes; knew ofthe quarrels between Bellfield and Cheesacre; knew almost as much ofBellfield's past life as Mrs. Greenow did herself; and Mrs. Greenowwas no doubt aware that such was the case. Nevertheless, she had apleasure in telling her own story, and told it as though she believedevery word that she spoke.
On the following day the two gentlemen came over, according tocustom, and Alice observed that Miss Fairstairs hardly spoke to Mr.Cheesacre. Indeed her manner of avoiding that gentleman was so verymarked, that it was impossible not to observe it. They drank tea outof doors, and when Mr. Cheesacre on one occasion sauntered acrosstowards the end of the bench on which Charlie was sitting, Charliegot up and walked away. And in strolling about the place afterwards,and in going up through the wood, she was at great pains to attachherself to some other person, so that there should be no suchattaching between her and the owner of Oileymead. At one time Mr.Cheesacre did get close up to her and spoke some word, some veryindifferent word. He knew that he was being cut and he wanted toavoid the appearance of a scene. "I don't know, sir," said Charlie,again moving away with excellent dignity, and she at once attachedherself to Alice who was close by. "I know you have just come homefrom Switzerland," said Charlie. "Beautiful Switzerland! My heartpants for Switzerland. Do tell me something about Switzerland!" Mr.Cheesacre had heard that Alice was the dear friend of a lady whowould probably some day become a duchess. He therefore naturallyheld her in awe, and slunk away. On this occasion Mrs. Greenow clunglovingly to her future husband, and the effect was that Mr. Cheesacrefound himself to be very much alone and unhappy. He had generallyenjoyed these days at Vavasor Hall, having found himself, or fanciedhimself, to be the dominant spirit there. That Mrs. Greenow was alwaysin truth the dominant spirit I need hardly say; but she knew how tomake a companion happy,
and well also how to make him wretched. Onthe whole of this day poor Cheesacre was very wretched.
"I don't think I shall go there any more," he said to Bellfield, ashe drove the gig back to Penrith that evening.
"Not go there any more, Cheesy," said Bellfield; "why, we are to havethe dinner out in the field on Friday. It's your own bespeak."
"Well, yes; I'll go on Friday, but not after that."
"You'll stop and see me turned off, old fellow?"
"What's the use? You'll get your wife, and that's enough for you. Thetruth is, that since that girl came down from London with her d----dairs;"--the girl from London with the airs was poor Alice,--"theplace is quite changed. I'm blessed if the whole thing isn't as darkas ditch-water. I'm a plain man, I am; and I do hate your swells."Against this view of the case Captain Bellfield argued stoutly; butCheesacre had been offended, and throughout the next day he was crossand touchy. He wouldn't play billiards, and on one occasion hintedthat he hoped he should get that money soon.
"You did it admirably, my dear," said Mrs. Greenow that nightto Charlie Fairstairs. The widow was now on terms almost moreconfidential with Miss Fairstairs than with her own niece, KateVavasor. She loved a little bit of intrigue; and though Kate couldintrigue, as we have seen in this story, Kate would not join heraunt's intrigues. "You did it admirably. I really did not think youhad so much in you."
"Oh, I don't know," said Charlie, blushing at the praise.
"And it's the only way, my dear;--the only way, I mean, for you withsuch a one as him. And if he does come round, you'll find him anexcellent husband."
"I don't think he cares for me a bit," said Charlie whimpering.
"Pooh, nonsense! Girls never know whether men care for them or not.If he asks you to marry him, won't that be a sign that he cares foryou? and if he don't, why, there'll be no harm done."
"If he thinks it's his money--" began Charlie.
"Now, don't talk nonsense, Charlie," said Mrs. Greenow, "or you'llmake me sick. Of course it's his money, more or less. You don'tmean to tell me you'd go and fall in love with him if he was likeBellfield, and hadn't got a rap? I can afford that sort of thing; youcan't. I don't mean to say you ain't to love him. Of course, you'reto love him; and I've no doubt you will, and make him a very goodwife. I always think that worldliness and sentimentality are likebrandy-and-water. I don't like either of them separately, but takentogether they make a very nice drink. I like them warm, with ---- asthe gentlemen say." To this little lecture Miss Fairstairs listenedwith dutiful patience, and when it was over she said nothing moreof her outraged affections or of her disregard for money. "Andnow, my dear, mind you look your best on Friday. I'll get him awayimmediately after dinner, and when he's done with me you can contriveto be in his way, you know."
The next day was what Kate called the blank day at the Hall. Theladies were all alone, and devoted themselves, as was always the caseon the blank days, to millinery and household cares. Mrs. Greenow,as has before been stated, had taken a lease of the place, and hertroubles extended beyond her mere bridal wardrobe. Large trunks ofhousehold linen had arrived, and all this linen was marked with thename of Greenow; Greenow, 5.58; Greenow, 7.52; and a good deal hadto be done before this ancient wealth of housewifery could probablybe converted to Bellfield purposes. "We must cut out the pieces,Jeannette, and work 'em in again ever so carefully," said the widow,after some painful consideration. "It will always show," saidJeannette, shaking her head. "But the other would show worse," saidthe widow; "and if you finedraw it, not one person in ten will noticeit. We'd always put them on with the name to the feet, you know."
It was not quite true that Cheesacre had bespoke the dinner out inthe field, although no doubt he thought he had done so. The littletreat, if treat it was, had all been arranged by Mrs. Greenow, whowas ever ready to create festivities. There was not much scope fora picnic here. Besides their own party, which, of course, includedthe Captain and Mr. Cheesacre, no guest could be caught except theclergyman;--that low-church clergyman, who was so anxious about hisincome, and with whom the old Squire had quarrelled. Mrs. Greenowhad quickly obtained the advantage of his alliance, and he, who wassoon to perform on her behalf the marriage ceremony, had promisedto grace this little festival. The affair simply amounted to this,that they were to eat their dinner uncomfortably in the fieldinstead of comfortably in the dining-room. But Mrs. Greenow knew thatCharlie's charms would be much strengthened by a dinner out-of-doors."Nothing," she said to Kate, "nothing makes a man come forward sowell as putting him altogether out of his usual tack. A man whowouldn't think of such a thing in the drawing-room would be sure tomake an offer if he spent an evening with a young lady down-stairs inthe kitchen."
At two o'clock the gig from Penrith arrived at the Hall, and forthe next hour both Cheesacre and the Captain were engaged inpreparing the tables and carrying out the viands. The Captain andCharlie Fairstairs were going to lay the cloth. "Let me do it," saidCheesacre taking it out of the Captain's hands. "Oh, certainly," saidthe Captain, giving up his prize. "Captain Bellfield would do it muchbetter," said Charlie, with a little toss of her head; "he's as goodas a married man, and they always do these things best."
The day was fine, and although the shade was not perfect, and themidges were troublesome, the dinner went off very nicely. It wasbeautiful to see how well Mrs. Greenow remembered herself about thegrace, seeing that the clergyman was there. She was just in time, andwould have been very angry with herself, and have thought herselfawkward, had she forgotten it. Mr. Cheesacre sat on her right hand,and the clergyman on her left, and she hardly spoke a word toBellfield. Her sweetest smiles were all given to Cheesacre. She wasspecially anxious to keep her neighbour, the parson, in good-humour,and therefore illuminated him once in every five minutes with apassing ray, but the full splendour of her light was poured out uponCheesacre, as it never had before been poured. How she did flatterhim, and with what a capacious gullet did he swallow her flatteries!Oileymead was the only paradise she had ever seen. "Ah, me; when Ithink of it sometimes,--but never mind." A moment came to him when hethought that even yet he might win the race, and send Bellfield awayhowling into outer darkness. A moment came to him, and the widow sawthe moment well. "I know I have done for the best," said she, "andtherefore I shall never regret it; at any rate, it's done now."
"Not done yet," said he plaintively.
"Yes; done, and done, and done. Besides, a man in your position inthe county should always marry a wife younger than yourself,--a gooddeal younger." Cheesacre did not understand the argument, but heliked the allusion to his position in the county, and he perceivedthat it was too late for any changes in the present arrangements. Buthe was happy; and all that feeling of animosity to Alice had vanishedfrom his breast. Poor Alice! she, at any rate, was innocent. With somuch of her own to fill her mind, she had been but little able totake her share in the Greenow festivities; and we may safely say,that if Mr. Cheesacre's supremacy was on any occasion attacked, itwas not attacked by her. His supremacy on this occasion was paramount,and during the dinner, and after the dinner, he was allowed togive his orders to Bellfield in a manner that must have gratifiedhim much. "You must have another glass of champagne with me, myfriend," said Mrs. Greenow; and Mr. Cheesacre drank the other glass ofchampagne. It was not the second nor the third that he had taken.
After dinner they started off for a ramble through the fields, andMrs. Greenow and Mr. Cheesacre were together. I think that CharlieFairstairs did not go with them at all. I think she went into thehouse and washed her face, and brushed her hair, and settled hermuslin. I should not wonder if she took off her frock and ironed itagain. Captain Bellfield, I know, went with Alice, and created someastonishment by assuring her that he fully meant to correct the errorof his ways. "I know what it is," he said, "to be connected with sucha family as yours, Miss Vavasor." He too had heard about the futureduchess, and wished to be on his best behaviour. Kate fell to the lotof the parson.
"This is the last time we shall ever
be together in this way," saidthe widow to her friend.
"Oh, no," said Cheesacre; "I hope not."
"The last time. On Wednesday I become Mrs. Bellfield, and I needhardly say that I have many things to think of before that; but Mr.Cheesacre, I hope we are not to be strangers hereafter?" Mr. Cheesacresaid that he hoped not. Oileymead would always be open to Captain andMrs. Bellfield.
"We all know your hospitality," said she; "it is not to-day norto-morrow that I or my husband,--that is to be,--will have to learnthat. He always declares that you are the very beau ideal of anEnglish country gentleman."
"Merely a poor Norfolk farmer," said Cheesacre. "I never want toput myself beyond my own place. There has been some talk about theCommission of the Peace, but I don't think anything of it."
"It has been the greatest blessing in the world for him that he hasever known you," said Mrs. Greenow, still talking about her futurehusband.
"I've tried to be good-natured; that's all. D---- me, Mrs. Greenow,what's the use of living if one doesn't try to be good-natured? Thereisn't a better fellow than Bellfield living. He and I ran for thesame plate, and he has won it. He's a lucky fellow, and I don'tbegrudge him his luck."
"That's so manly of you, Mr. Cheesacre! But, indeed, the plate youspeak of was not worth your running for."
"I may have my own opinion about that, you know."
"It was not. Nobody knows that as well as I do, or could have thoughtover the whole matter so often. I know very well what my mission isin life. The mistress of your house, Mr. Cheesacre, should not be anyman's widow."
"She wouldn't be a widow then, you know."
"A virgin heart should be yours; and a virgin heart may be yours, ifyou choose to accept it."
"Oh, bother!"
"If you choose to take my solicitude on your behalf in that way, ofcourse I have done. You were good enough to say just now that youwished to see me and my husband in your hospitable halls. After allthat has passed, do you think that I could be a visitor at your houseunless there is a mistress there?"
"Upon my word, I think you might."
"No, Mr. Cheesacre; certainly not. For all our sakes, I shoulddecline. But if you were married--"
"You are always wanting to marry me, Mrs. Greenow."
"I do, I do. It is the only way in which there can be any friendshipbetween us, and not for worlds would I lose that advantage for myhusband,--let alone what I may feel for myself."
"Why didn't you take me yourself, Mrs. Greenow?"
"If you can't understand, it is not for me to say anything more, Mr.Cheesacre. If you value the warm affection of a virgin heart--"
"Why, Mrs. Greenow, all yesterday she wouldn't say a word to me."
"Not say a word to you? Is that all you know about it? Are you soignorant that you cannot see when a girl's heart is breaking beneathher stays?" This almost improper allusion had quite an effect on Mr.Cheesacre's sensitive bosom. "Did you say a word to her yesterday?And if not, why have you said so many words before?"
"Oh, Mrs. Greenow; come!"
"It is, oh, Mrs. Greenow. But it is time that we should go backto them." They had been sitting all this time on a bank, under ahedge. "We will have our tea, and you shall have your pipe andbrandy-and-water, and Charlie shall bring it to you. Shall she, Mr.Cheesacre?"
"If she likes she shall, of course."
"Do you ask her, and she'll like it it quick enough. But remember,Mr. Cheesacre, I'm quite serious in what I say about your having amistress for your house. Only think what an age you'll be when yourchildren grow up, if you don't marry soon now."
They returned to the field in which they had dined, and found Charlieunder the trees, with her muslin looking very fresh. "What, alla-mort?" said Mrs. Greenow. Charlie did not quite understand this, butreplied that she preferred being alone. "I have told him that youshould fill his pipe for him," said Mrs. Greenow. "He doesn't care forladies to fill his pipe for him," said Charlie. "Do you try," saidthe widow, "while I go indoors and order the tea."
It had been necessary to put the bait very close before Cheesacre'seyes, or there would have been no hope that he might take it. Thebait had been put so very close that we must feel sure that he sawthe hook. But there are fish so silly that they will take the baitalthough they know the hook is there. Cheesacre understood it all.Many things he could not see, but he could see that Mrs. Greenowwas trying to catch him as a husband for Charlie Fairstairs; and heknew also that he had always despised Charlie, and that no worldlyadvantage whatever would accrue to him by a marriage with such agirl. But there she was, and he didn't quite know how to avoid it.She did look rather nice in her clear-starched muslin frock, and hefelt that he should like to kiss her. He needn't marry her becausehe kissed her. The champagne which had created the desire also gavehim the audacity. He gave one glance around him to see that he wasnot observed, and then he did kiss Charlie Fairstairs under thetrees. "Oh, Mr. Cheesacre," said Charlie. "Oh, Mr. Cheesacre," echoeda laughing voice; and poor Cheesacre, looking round, saw that Mrs.Greenow, who ought to have been inside the house looking after theboiling water, was moving about for some unknown reason within sightof the spot which he had chosen for his dalliance.
"Mr. Cheesacre," said Charlie sobbing, "how dare you do that?--andwhere all the world could see you?"
"It was only Mrs. Greenow," said Cheesacre.
"And what will she think of me?"
"Lord bless you--she won't think anything about it."
"But I do;--I think a great deal about it. I don't know what to do,I don't;--I don't." Whereupon Charlie got up from her seat under thetrees and began to move away slowly. Cheesacre thought about it fora moment or two. Should he follow her or should he not? He knew thathe had better not follow her. He knew that she was bait with a veryvisible hook. He knew that he was a big fish for whom these two womenwere angling. But after all, perhaps it wouldn't do him much harm tobe caught. So he got up and followed her. I don't suppose she meantto take the way towards the woods,--towards the little path leadingto the old summer-house up in the trees. She was too much besideherself to know where she was going, no doubt. But that was thepath she did take, and before long she and Cheesacre were in thesummerhouse together. "Don't, Sam, don't! Somebody really will becoming. Well, then, there. Now I won't do it again." 'Twas thus shespoke when the last kiss was given on this occasion--unless theremay have been one or two later in the evening, to which it is notnecessary more especially to allude here. But on the occasion of thatlast kiss in the summer-house Miss Fairstairs was perfectly justifiedby circumstances, for she was then the promised bride of Mr.Cheesacre.
But how was he to get down again among his friends? Thatconsideration troubled Mr. Cheesacre as he rose from his happy seatafter that last embrace. He had promised Charlie, and perhaps hewould keep his promise, but it might be as well not to make it alltoo public at once. But Charlie wasn't going to be thrown over;--notif she knew it, as she said to herself. She returned thereforetriumphantly among them all,--blushing indeed, and with her eyesturned away, and her hand now remained upon her lover's arm;--butstill so close to him that there could be no mistake. "Goodness,gracious, Charlie! where have you and Mr. Cheesacre been?" said Mrs.Greenow. "We got up into the woods and lost ourselves," said Charlie."Oh, indeed," said Mrs. Greenow.
It would be too long to tell now, in these last pages of our story,how Cheesacre strove to escape, and with what skill Mrs. Greenow kepthim to his bargain. I hope that Charlie Fairstairs was duly grateful.Before that evening was over, under the comfortable influence ofa glass of hot brandy-and-water,--the widow had, I think, herselfmixed the second glass for Mr. Cheesacre, before the influence becamesufficiently comfortable,--he was forced to own that he had madehimself the happy possessor of Charlie Fairstairs' heart and hand."And you are a lucky man," said the widow with enthusiasm; "and Icongratulate you with all my heart. Don't let there be any delay now,because a good thing can't be done too soon." And indeed, beforethat night was over, Mrs. Greenow had the pair tog
ether in her ownpresence, and then fixed the day. "A fellow ought to be allowed toturn himself," Cheesacre said to her, pleading for himself in awhisper. But no; Mrs. Greenow would give him no such mercy. She knewto what a man turning himself might probably lead. She was a womanwho was quite in earnest when she went to work, and I hope thatMiss Fairstairs was grateful. Then, in that presence, was in truththe last kiss given on that eventful evening. "Come, Charlie, begood-natured to him. He's as good as your own now," said the widow.And Charlie was good-natured. "It's to be as soon as ever we comeback from our trip," said Mrs. Greenow to Kate, the next day, "andI'm lending her money to get all her things at once. He shall come tothe scratch, though I go all the way to Norfolk by myself and fetchhim by his ears. He shall come, as sure as my name's Greenow,--orBellfield, as it will be then, you know."
"And I shouldn't wonder if she did have to go to Norfolk," said Kateto her cousin. That event, however, cannot be absolutely concluded inthese pages. I can only say that, when I think of Mrs. Greenow's forceof character and warmth of friendship, I feel that Miss Fairstairs'prospects stand on good ground.
Mrs. Greenow's own marriage was completed with perfect success. Shetook Captain Bellfield for better or for worse, with a thoroughdetermination to make the best of his worst, and to put him on hislegs, if any such putting might be possible. He, at any rate, hadbeen in luck. If any possible stroke of fortune could do him good, hehad found that stroke. He had found a wife who could forgive all hispast offences,--and also, if necessary, some future offences; whohad money enough for all his wants, and kindness enough to gratifythem, and who had, moreover,--which for the Captain was the mostimportant,--strength enough to keep from him the power of ruiningthem both. Reader, let us wish a happy married life to Captain andMrs. Bellfield!
The day after the ceremony Alice Vavasor and Kate Vavasor started forMatching Priory.