Phineas Redux

  CHAPTER XIX.

  SOMETHING OUT OF THE WAY.

  The Brake hounds went out four days a week, Monday, Wednesday,Friday, and Saturday; but the hunting party on this Saturday was verysmall. None of the ladies joined in it, and when Lord Chiltern camedown to breakfast at half-past eight he met no one but Gerard Maule."Where's Spooner?" he asked. But neither Maule nor the servant couldanswer the question. Mr. Spooner was a man who never missed a dayfrom the beginning of cubbing to the end of the season, and who,when April came, could give you an account of the death of every foxkilled. Chiltern cracked his eggs, and said nothing more for themoment, but Gerard Maule had his suspicions. "He must be coming,"said Maule; "suppose you send up to him." The servant was sent, andcame down with Mr. Spooner's compliments. Mr. Spooner didn't meanto hunt to-day. He had something of a headache. He would see LordChiltern at the meet on Monday.

  Maule immediately declared that neither would he hunt; but LordChiltern looked at him, and he hesitated. "I don't care about yourknowing," said Gerard.

  "Oh,--I know. Don't you be an ass."

  "I don't see why I should give him an opportunity."

  "You're to go and pull your boots and breeches off because he has notput his on, and everybody is to be told of it! Why shouldn't he havean opportunity, as you call it? If the opportunity can do him anygood, you may afford to be very indifferent."

  "It's a piece of d---- impertinence," said Maule, with most unusualenergy.

  "Do you finish your breakfast, and come and get into the trap. We'vetwenty miles to go. You can ask Spooner on Monday how he spent hismorning."

  At ten o'clock the ladies came down to breakfast, and the whole partywere assembled. "Mr. Spooner!" said Lady Chiltern to that gentleman,who was the last to enter the room. "This is a marvel!" He wasdressed in a dark-blue frock-coat, with a coloured silk handkerchiefround his neck, and had brushed his hair down close to his head. Helooked quite unlike himself, and would hardly have been known bythose who had never seen him out of the hunting field. In his dressclothes of an evening, or in his shooting coat, he was still himself.But in the garb he wore on the present occasion he was quite unlikeSpooner of Spoon Hall, whose only pride in regard to clothes hadhitherto been that he possessed more pairs of breeches than anyother man in the county. It was ascertained afterwards, whenthe circumstances came to be investigated, that he had senta man all the way across to Spoon Hall for that coat and thecoloured neck-handkerchief on the previous day; and some one, mostmaliciously, told the story abroad. Lady Chiltern, however, alwaysdeclared that her secrecy on the matter had always been inviolable.

  "Yes, Lady Chiltern; yes," said Mr. Spooner, as he took a seat at thetable; "wonders never cease, do they?" He had prepared himself evenfor this moment, and had determined to show Miss Palliser that hecould be sprightly and engaging even without his hunting habiliments.

  "What will Lord Chiltern do without you?" one of the ladies asked.

  "He'll have to do his best."

  "He'll never kill a fox," said Miss Palliser.

  "Oh, yes; he knows what he's about. I was so fond of my pillow thismorning that I thought I'd let the hunting slide for once. A manshould not make a toil of his pleasure."

  Lady Chiltern knew all about it, but Adelaide Palliser knew nothing.Madame Goesler, when she observed the light-blue necktie, at oncesuspected the execution of some great intention. Phineas was absorbedin his observation of the difference in the man. In his pink coathe always looked as though he had been born to wear it, but hisappearance was now that of an amateur actor got up in a miscellaneousmiddle-age costume. He was sprightly, but the effort was painfullyvisible. Lady Baldock said something afterwards, very ill-natured,about a hog in armour, and old Mrs. Burnaby spoke the truth when shedeclared that all the comfort of her tea and toast was sacrificedto Mr. Spooner's frock coat. But what was to be done with him whenbreakfast was over? For a while he was fixed upon poor Phineas, withwhom he walked across to the stables. He seemed to feel that he couldhardly hope to pounce upon his prey at once, and that he must bidehis time.

  Out of the full heart the mouth speaks. "Nice girl, Miss Palliser,"he said to Phineas, forgetting that he had expressed himself nearlyin the same way to the same man on a former occasion.

  "Very nice, indeed. It seems to me that you are sweet upon heryourself."

  "Who? I! Oh, no--I don't think of those sort of things. I suppose Ishall marry some day. I've a house fit for a lady to-morrow, from topto bottom, linen and all. And my property's my own."

  "That's a comfort."

  "I believe you. There isn't a mortgage on an acre of it, and that'swhat very few men can say. As for Miss Palliser, I don't know thata man could do better; only I don't think much of those things. Ifever I do pop the question, I shall do it on the spur of the moment.There'll be no preparation with me, nor yet any beating about thebush. 'Would it suit your views, my dear, to be Mrs. Spooner?' that'sabout the long and the short of it. A clean-made little mare, isn'tshe?" This last observation did not refer to Adelaide Palliser, butto an animal standing in Lord Chiltern's stables. "He bought her fromCharlie Dickers for a twenty pound note last April. The mare hadn'ta leg to stand upon. Charlie had been stagging with her for the lasttwo months, and knocked her all to pieces. She's a screw, of course,but there isn't anything carries Chiltern so well. There's nothinglike a good screw. A man'll often go with two hundred and fiftyguineas between his legs, supposed to be all there because theanimal's sound, and yet he don't know his work. If you like schoolinga young 'un, that's all very well. I used to be fond of it myself;but I've come to feel that being carried to hounds without muchthinking about it is the cream of hunting, after all. I wonder whatthe ladies are at? Shall we go back and see?" Then they turned to thehouse, and Mr. Spooner began to be a little fidgety. "Do they sitaltogether mostly all the morning?"

  "I fancy they do."

  "I suppose there's some way of dividing them. They tell me you knowall about women. If you want to get one to yourself, how do youmanage it?"

  "In perpetuity, do you mean, Mr. Spooner?"

  "Any way;--in the morning, you know."

  "Just to say a few words to her?"

  "Exactly that;--just to say a few words. I don't mind asking you,because you've done this kind of thing before."

  "I should watch my opportunity," said Phineas, remembering a periodof his life in which he had watched much and had found it verydifficult to get an opportunity.

  "But I must go after lunch," said Mr. Spooner; "I'm expected home todinner, and I don't know much whether they'll like me to stop overSunday."

  "If you were to tell Lady Chiltern--"

  "I was to have gone on Thursday, you know. You won't tell anybody?"

  "Oh dear no."

  "I think I shall propose to that girl. I've about made up my mind todo it, only a fellow can't call her out before half-a-dozen of them.Couldn't you get Lady C. to trot her out into the garden? You and sheare as thick as thieves."

  "I should think Miss Palliser was rather difficult to be managed."

  Phineas declined to interfere, taking upon himself to assureMr. Spooner that attempts to arrange matters in that way neversucceeded. He went in and settled himself to the work of answeringcorrespondents at Tankerville, while Mr. Spooner hung about thedrawing-room, hoping that circumstances and time might favour him. Itis to be feared that he made himself extremely disagreeable to poorLady Chiltern, to whom he was intending to open his heart could heonly find an opportunity for so much as that. But Lady Chiltern wasdetermined not to have his confidence, and at last withdrew from thescene in order that she might not be entrapped. Before lunch had comeall the party knew what was to happen,--except Adelaide herself. She,too, perceived that something was in the wind, that there was somestir, some discomfort, some secret affair forward, or some eventexpected which made them all uneasy;--and she did connect it withthe presence of Mr. Spooner. But, in pitiable ignorance of the factsthat were clear enough to everybody else, she went on watchi
ng andwondering, with a half-formed idea that the house would be morepleasant as soon as Mr. Spooner should have taken his departure. Hewas to go after lunch. But on such occasions there is, of course, alatitude, and "after lunch" may be stretched at any rate to the fiveo'clock tea. At three o'clock Mr. Spooner was still hanging about.Madame Goesler and Phineas, with an openly declared intention offriendly intercourse, had gone out to walk together. Lord and LadyBaldock were on horseback. Two or three old ladies hung over thefire and gossiped. Lady Chiltern had retired to her baby;--when on asudden Adelaide Palliser declared her intention of walking into thevillage. "Might I accompany you, Miss Palliser?" said Mr. Spooner;"I want a walk above all things." He was very brave, and perseveredthough it was manifest that the lady did not desire his company.Adelaide said something about an old woman whom she intended tovisit; whereupon Mr. Spooner declared that visiting old women was thedelight of his life. He would undertake to give half a sovereign tothe old woman if Miss Palliser would allow him to come. He was verybrave, and persevered in such a fashion that he carried his point.Lady Chiltern from her nursery window saw them start through theshrubbery together.

  "I have been waiting for this opportunity all the morning," said Mr.Spooner, gallantly.

  But in spite of his gallantry, and although she had known, almostfrom breakfast time, that he had been waiting for something, stillshe did not suspect his purpose. It has been said that Mr. Spoonerwas still young, being barely over forty years of age; but he hadunfortunately appeared to be old to Miss Palliser. To himself itseemed as though the fountains of youth were still running throughall his veins. Though he had given up schooling young horses, hecould ride as hard as ever. He could shoot all day. He could take"his whack of wine," as he called it, sit up smoking half the night,and be on horseback the next morning after an early breakfast withoutthe slightest feeling of fatigue. He was a red-faced little man,with broad shoulders, clean shaven, with small eyes, and a nose onwhich incipient pimples began to show themselves. To himself and thecomrades of his life he was almost as young as he had ever been; butthe young ladies of the county called him Old Spooner, and regardedhim as a permanent assistant unpaid huntsman to the Brake hounds. Itwas not within the compass of Miss Palliser's imagination to conceivethat this man should intend to propose himself to her as her lover.

  "I have been waiting for this opportunity all the morning," said Mr.Spooner. Adelaide Palliser turned round and looked at him, stillunderstanding nothing. Ride at any fence hard enough, and the chancesare you'll get over. The harder you ride the heavier the fall, ifyou get a fall; but the greater the chance of your getting over.This had been a precept in the life of Mr. Spooner, verified by muchexperience, and he had resolved that he would be guided by it on thisoccasion. "Ever since I first saw you, Miss Palliser, I have been somuch taken by you that,--that,--in point of fact, I love you betterthan all the women in the world I ever saw; and will you,--will yoube Mrs. Spooner?"

  He had at any rate ridden hard at his fence. There had been nocraning,--no looking about for an easy place, no hesitation as hebrought his horse up to it. No man ever rode straighter than he didon this occasion. Adelaide stopped short on the path, and he stoodopposite to her, with his fingers inserted between the closed buttonsof his frock-coat. "Mr. Spooner!" exclaimed Adelaide.

  "I am quite in earnest, Miss Palliser; no man ever was more inearnest. I can offer you a comfortable well-furnished home, anundivided heart, a good settlement, and no embarrassment on theproperty. I'm fond of a country life myself, but I'll adapt myselfto you in everything reasonable."

  "You are mistaken, Mr. Spooner; you are indeed."

  "How mistaken?"

  "I mean that it is altogether out of the question. You have surprisedme so much that I couldn't stop you sooner; but pray do not speak ofit again."

  "It is a little sudden, but what is a man to do? If you will onlythink of it--"

  "I can't think of it at all. There is no need for thinking. Really,Mr. Spooner, I can't go on with you. If you wouldn't mind turningback I'll walk into the village by myself." Mr. Spooner, however, didnot seem inclined to obey this injunction, and stood his ground, and,when she moved on, walked on beside her. "I must insist on being leftalone," she said.

  "I haven't done anything out of the way," said the lover.

  "I think it's very much out of the way. I have hardly ever spoken toyou before. If you will only leave me now there shall not be a wordmore said about it."

  But Mr. Spooner was a man of spirit. "I'm not in the least ashamed ofwhat I've done," he said.

  "But you might as well go away, when it can't be of any use."

  "I don't know why it shouldn't be of use. Miss Palliser, I'm a man ofgood property. My great-great-grandfather lived at Spoon Hall, andwe've been there ever since. My mother was one of the Platters ofPlatter House. I don't see that I've done anything out of the way. Asfor shilly-shallying, and hanging about, I never knew any good comefrom it. Don't let us quarrel, Miss Palliser. Say that you'll take aweek to think of it."

  "But I won't think of it at all; and I won't go on walking with you.If you'll go one way, Mr. Spooner, I'll go the other."

  Then Mr. Spooner waxed angry. "Why am I to be treated with disdain?"he said.

  "I don't want to treat you with disdain. I only want you to go away."

  "You seem to think that I'm something,--something altogether beneathyou."

  And so in truth she did. Miss Palliser had never analysed her ownfeelings and emotions about the Spooners whom she met in society; butshe probably conceived that there were people in the world who, fromcertain accidents, were accustomed to sit at dinner with her, butwho were no more fitted for her intimacy than were the servants whowaited upon her. Such people were to her little more than the tablesand chairs with which she was brought in contact. They were personswith whom it seemed to her to be impossible that she should haveanything in common,--who were her inferiors, as completely as werethe menials around her. Why she should thus despise Mr. Spooner,while in her heart of hearts she loved Gerard Maule, it would bedifficult to explain. It was not simply an affair of age,--nor ofgood looks, nor altogether of education. Gerard Maule was by no meanswonderfully erudite. They were both addicted to hunting. Neitherof them did anything useful. In that respect Mr. Spooner stood thehigher, as he managed his own property successfully. But Gerard Mauleso wore his clothes, and so carried his limbs, and so pronounced hiswords that he was to be regarded as one entitled to make love to anylady; whereas poor Mr. Spooner was not justified in proposing tomarry any woman much more gifted than his own housemaid. Such, atleast, were Adelaide Palliser's ideas. "I don't think anything of thekind," she said, "only I want you to go away. I shall go back to thehouse, and I hope you won't accompany me. If you do, I shall turnthe other way." Whereupon she did retire at once, and he was leftstanding in the path.

  There was a seat there, and he sat down for a moment to think of itall. Should he persevere in his suit, or should he rejoice that hehad escaped from such an ill-conditioned minx? He remembered that hehad read, in his younger days, that lovers in novels generally dopersevere, and that they are almost always successful at last. Inaffairs of the heart, such perseverance was, he thought, the correctthing. But in this instance the conduct of the lady had not given himthe slightest encouragement. When a horse balked with him at a fence,it was his habit to force the animal till he jumped it,--as thegroom had recommended Phineas to do. But when he had encountereda decided fall, it was not sensible practice to ride the horse atthe same place again. There was probably some occult cause forfailure. He could not but own that he had been thrown on the presentoccasion,--and upon the whole, he thought that he had better give itup. He found his way back to the house, put up his things, and gotaway to Spoon Hall in time for dinner, without seeing Lady Chilternor any of her guests.

  He sat down for a moment to think of it all.]

  "What has become of Mr. Spooner?" Maule asked, as soon as he returnedto Harrington Hall.

  "
Nobody knows," said Lady Chiltern, "but I believe he has gone."

  "Has anything happened?"

  "I have heard no tidings; but, if you ask for my opinion, I thinksomething has happened. A certain lady seems to have been ruffled,and a certain gentleman has disappeared. I am inclined to think thata few unsuccessful words have been spoken." Gerard Maule saw thatthere was a smile in her eye, and he was satisfied.

  "My dear, what did Mr. Spooner say to you during his walk?" Thisquestion was asked by the ill-natured old lady in the presence ofnearly all the party.

  "We were talking of hunting," said Adelaide.

  "And did the poor old woman get her half-sovereign?"

  "No;--he forgot that. We did not go into the village at all. I wastired and came back."

  "Poor old woman;--and poor Mr. Spooner!"

  Everybody in the house knew what had occurred, as Mr. Spooner'sdiscretion in the conduct of this affair had not been equal to hisvalour; but Miss Palliser never confessed openly, and almost taughtherself to believe that the man had been mad or dreaming during thatspecial hour.