CHAPTER LXXVI.
MADAME GOESLER'S LEGACY.
One morning, very shortly after her return to Harrington, LadyChiltern was told that Mr. Spooner of Spoon Hall had called, anddesired to see her. She suggested that the gentleman had probablyasked for her husband,--who, at that moment, was enjoying hisrecovered supremacy in the centre of Trumpeton Wood; but she wasassured that on this occasion Mr. Spooner's mission was to herself.She had no quarrel with Mr. Spooner, and she went to him at once.After the first greeting he rushed into the subject of the greattriumph. "So we've got rid of Mr. Fothergill, Lady Chiltern."
"Yes; Mr. Fothergill will not, I believe, trouble us any more. Heis an old man, it seems, and has retired from the Duke's service."
"I can't tell you how glad I am, Lady Chiltern. We were afraid thatChiltern would have thrown it up, and then I don't know where weshould have been. England would not have been England any longer, tomy thinking, if we hadn't won the day. It'd have been just like aFrench revolution. Nobody would have known what was coming or wherehe was going."
That Mr. Spooner should be enthusiastic on any hunting question was amatter of course; but still it seemed to be odd that he should havedriven himself over from Spoon Hall to pour his feelings into LadyChiltern's ear. "We shall go on very nicely now, I don't doubt," saidshe; "and I'm sure that Lord Chiltern will be glad to find that youare pleased."
"I am very much pleased, I can tell you." Then he paused, and thetone of his voice was changed altogether when he spoke again. "ButI didn't come over only about that, Lady Chiltern. Miss Palliser hasnot come back with you, Lady Chiltern?"
"We left Miss Palliser at Matching. You know she is the Duke'scousin."
"I wish she wasn't, with all my heart."
"Why should you want to rob her of her relations, Mr. Spooner?"
"Because-- because--. I don't want to say a word against her, LadyChiltern. To me she is perfect as a star;--beautiful as a rose."Mr. Spooner as he said this pointed first to the heavens and thento the earth. "But perhaps she wouldn't have been so proud of hergrandfather hadn't he been a Duke."
"I don't think she is proud of that."
"People do think of it, Lady Chiltern; and I don't say that theyought not. Of course it makes a difference, and when a man livesaltogether in the country, as I do, it seems to signify so muchmore. But if you go back to old county families, Lady Chiltern, theSpooners have been here pretty nearly as long as the Pallisers,--ifnot longer. The Desponders, from whom we come, came over with Williamthe Conqueror."
"I have always heard that there isn't a more respectable family inthe county."
"That there isn't. There was a grant of land, which took their name,and became the Manor of Despond; there's where Spoon Hall is now. SirThomas Desponder was one of those who demanded the Charter, thoughhis name wasn't always given because he wasn't a baron. Perhaps MissPalliser does not know all that."
"I doubt whether she cares about those things."
"Women do care about them,--very much. Perhaps she has heard of thetwo spoons crossed, and doesn't know that that was a stupid vulgarpractical joke. Our crest is a knight's head bowed, with the motto,'Desperandum.' Soon after the Conquest one of the Desponders fell inlove with the Queen, and never would give it up, though it wasn'tany good. Her name was Matilda, and so he went as a Crusader and gotkilled. But wherever he went he had the knight's head bowed, and themotto on the shield."
"What a romantic story, Mr. Spooner!"
"Isn't it? And it's quite true. That's the way we became Spooners. Inever told her of it, but, somehow I wish I had now. It always seemedthat she didn't think that I was anybody."
"The truth is, Mr. Spooner, that she was always thinking thatsomebody else was everything. When a gentleman is told that a lady'saffections have been pre-engaged, however much he may regret thecircumstances, he cannot, I think, feel any hurt to his pride. If Iunderstand the matter, Miss Palliser explained to you that she wasengaged when first you spoke to her."
"You are speaking of young Gerard Maule."
"Of course I am speaking of Mr. Maule."
"But she has quarrelled with him, Lady Chiltern."
"Don't you know what such quarrels come to?"
"Well, no. That is to say, everybody tells me that it is reallybroken off, and that he has gone nobody knows where. At any rate henever shows himself. He doesn't mean it, Lady Chiltern."
"I don't know what he means."
"And he can't afford it, Lady Chiltern. I mean it, and I can affordit. Surely that might go for something."
"I cannot say what Mr. Maule may mean to do, Mr. Spooner, but I thinkit only fair to tell you that he is at present staying at Matching,under the same roof with Miss Palliser."
"Maule staying at the Duke's!" When Mr. Spooner heard this therecame a sudden change over his face. His jaw fell, and his mouth wasopened, and the redness of his cheeks flew up to his forehead.
"He was expected there yesterday, and I need hardly suggest to youwhat will be the end of the quarrel."
"Going to the Duke's won't give him an income."
"I know nothing about that, Mr. Spooner. But it really seems to methat you misinterpret the nature of the affections of such a girl asMiss Palliser. Do you think it likely that she should cease to love aman because he is not so rich as another?"
"People, when they are married, want a house to live in, LadyChiltern. Now at Spoon Hall--"
"Believe me, that is in vain, Mr. Spooner."
"You are quite sure of it?"
"Quite sure."
"I'd have done anything for her,--anything! She might have had whatsettlements she pleased. I told Ned that he must go, if she made apoint of it. I'd have gone abroad, or lived just anywhere. I'd cometo that, that I didn't mind the hunting a bit."
"I'm sorry for you,--I am indeed."
"It cuts a fellow all to pieces so! And yet what is it all about? Aslip of a girl that isn't anything so very much out of the way afterall. Lady Chiltern, I shouldn't care if the horse kicked the trap allto pieces going back to Spoon Hall, and me with it."
"You'll get over it, Mr. Spooner."
"Get over it! I suppose I shall; but I shall never be as I was. I'vebeen always thinking of the day when there must be a lady at SpoonHall, and putting it off, you know. There'll never be a lady therenow;--never. You don't think there's any chance at all?"
"I'm sure there is none."
"I'd give half I've got in all the world," said the wretched man,"just to get it out of my head. I know what it will come to." Thoughhe paused, Lady Chiltern could ask no question respecting Mr.Spooner's future prospects. "It'll be two bottles of champagne atdinner, and two bottles of claret afterwards, every day. I only hopeshe'll know that she did it. Good-bye, Lady Chiltern. I thought thatperhaps you'd have helped me."
"I cannot help you."
"Good-bye." So he went down to his trap, and drove himself violentlyhome,--without, however, achieving the ruin which he desired. Letus hope that as time cures his wound that threat as to increasedconsumption of wine may fall to the ground unfulfilled.
In the meantime Gerard Maule had arrived at Matching Priory.
"We have quarrelled," Adelaide had said when the Duchess told herthat her lover was to come. "Then you had better make it up again,"the Duchess had answered,--and there had been an end of it. Nothingmore was done; no arrangement was made, and Adelaide was left tomeet the man as best she might. The quarrel to her had been as thedisruption of the heavens. She had declared to herself that she wouldbear it; but the misfortune to be borne was a broken world fallingabout her own ears. She had thought of a nunnery, of Ophelia amongthe water-lilies, and of an early death-bed. Then she had picturedto herself the somewhat ascetic and very laborious life of an oldmaiden lady whose only recreation fifty years hence should consistin looking at the portrait of him who had once been her lover. Andnow she was told that he was coming to Matching as though nothinghad been the matter! She tried to think whether it was not her dutyto hav
e her things at once packed, and ask for a carriage to takeher to the railway station. But she was in the house of her nearestrelative,--of him and also of her who were bound to see that thingswere right; and then there might be a more pleasureable existencethan that which would have to depend on a photograph for its keenestdelight. But how should she meet him? In what way should she addresshim? Should she ignore the quarrel, or recognize it, or take somemilder course? She was half afraid of the Duchess, and could not askfor assistance. And the Duchess, though good-natured, seemed to herto be rough. There was nobody at Matching to whom she could say aword;--so she lived on, and trembled, and doubted from hour to hourwhether the world would not come to an end.
The Duchess was rough, but she was very good-natured. She hadcontrived that the two lovers should be brought into the same house,and did not doubt at all but what they would be able to adjust theirown little differences when they met. Her experiences of the worldhad certainly made her more alive to the material prospects than tothe delicate aroma of a love adventure. She had been greatly knockedabout herself, and the material prospects had come uppermost. But allthat had happened to her had tended to open her hand to other people,and had enabled her to be good-natured with delight, even whenshe knew that her friends imposed upon her. She didn't care muchfor Laurence Fitzgibbon; but when she was told that the lady withmoney would not consent to marry the aristocratic pauper except oncondition that she should be received at Matching, the Duchess atonce gave the invitation. And now, though she couldn't go into the"fal-lallery,"--as she called it, to Madame Goesler,--of settlinga meeting between two young people who had fallen out, she workedhard till she accomplished something perhaps more important to theirfuture happiness. "Plantagenet," she said, "there can be no objectionto your cousin having that money."
"My dear!"
"Oh come; you must remember about Adelaide, and that young man who iscoming here to-day."
"You told me that Adelaide is to be married. I don't know anythingabout the young man."
"His name is Maule, and he is a gentleman, and all that. Some daywhen his father dies he'll have a small property somewhere."
"I hope he has a profession."
"No, he has not. I told you all that before."
"If he has nothing at all, Glencora, why did he ask a young lady tomarry him?"
"Oh, dear; what's the good of going into all that? He has gotsomething. They'll do immensely well, if you'll only listen. She isyour first cousin."
"Of course she is," said Plantagenet, lifting up his hand to hishair.
"And you are bound to do something for her."
"No; I am not bound. But I'm very willing,--if you wish it. Put thething on a right footing."
"I hate footings,--that is, right footings. We can manage thiswithout taking money out of your pocket."
"My dear Glencora, if I am to give my cousin money I shall do so byputting my hand into my own pocket in preference to that of any otherperson."
"Madame Goesler says that she'll sign all the papers about the Duke'slegacy,--the money, I mean,--if she may be allowed to make it over tothe Duke's niece."
"Of course Madame Goesler may do what she likes with her own. Icannot hinder her. But I would rather that you should not interfere.Twenty-five thousand pounds is a very serious sum of money."
"You won't take it."
"Certainly not."
"Nor will Madame Goesler; and therefore there can be no reason whythese young people should not have it. Of course Adelaide being theDuke's niece does make a difference. Why else should I care about it?She is nothing to me,--and as for him, I shouldn't know him again ifI were to meet him in the street."
And so the thing was settled. The Duke was powerless against theenergy of his wife, and the lawyer was instructed that Madame Goeslerwould take the proper steps for putting herself into possession ofthe Duke's legacy,--as far as the money was concerned,--with the viewof transferring it to the Duke's niece, Miss Adelaide Palliser. Asfor the diamonds, the difficulty could not be solved. Madame Goeslerstill refused to take them, and desired her lawyer to instruct heras to the form by which she could most thoroughly and conclusivelyrenounce that legacy.
Gerard Maule had his ideas about the meeting which would of coursetake place at Matching. He would not, he thought, have been askedthere had it not been intended that he should marry Adelaide. He didnot care much for the grandeur of the Duke and Duchess, but he wasconscious of certain profitable advantages which might accrue fromsuch an acknowledgement of his position from the great relatives ofhis intended bride. It would be something to be married from thehouse of the Duchess, and to receive his wife from the Duke's hand.His father would probably be driven to acquiesce, and people who werealmost omnipotent in the world would at any rate give him a start.He expected no money; nor did he possess that character, whether itbe good or bad, which is given to such expectation. But there wouldbe encouragement, and the thing would probably be done. As for themeeting,--he would take her in his arms if he found her alone, andbeg her pardon for that cross word about Boulogne. He would assureher that Boulogne itself would be a heaven to him if she were withhim,--and he thought that she would believe him. When he reached thehouse he was asked into a room in which a lot of people were playingbilliards or crowded round a billiard-table. The Chilterns were gone,and he was at first ill at ease, finding no friend. Madame Goesler,who had met him at Harrington, came up to him, and told him thatthe Duchess would be there directly, and then Phineas, who had beenplaying at the moment of his entrance, shook hands with him, and saida word or two about the Chilterns. "I was so delighted to hear ofyour acquittal," said Maule.
"We never talk about that now," said Phineas, going back to hisstroke. Adelaide Palliser was not present, and the difficulty ofthe meeting had not yet been encountered. They all remained in thebilliard-room till it was time for the ladies to dress, and Adelaidehad not yet ventured to show herself. Somebody offered to take him tohis room, and he was conducted upstairs, and told that they dined ateight,--but nothing had been arranged. Nobody had as yet mentionedher name to him. Surely it could not be that she had gone away whenshe heard that he was coming, and that she was really determined tomake the quarrel perpetual? He had three quarters of an hour in whichto get ready for dinner, and he felt himself to be uncomfortable andout of his element. He had been sent to his chamber prematurely,because nobody had known what to do with him; and he wishedhimself back in London. The Duchess, no doubt, had intended to begood-natured, but she had made a mistake. So he sat by his openwindow, and looked out on the ruins of the old Priory, which wereclose to the house, and wondered why he mightn't have been allowed towander about the garden instead of being shut up there in a bedroom.But he felt that it would be unwise to attempt any escape now. Hewould meet the Duke or the Duchess, or perhaps Adelaide herself, insome of the passages,--and there would be an embarrassment. So hedawdled away the time, looking out of the window as he dressed, anddescended to the drawing room at eight o'clock. He shook hands withthe Duke, and was welcomed by the Duchess, and then glanced round theroom. There she was, seated on a sofa between two other ladies,--ofwhom one was his friend, Madame Goesler. It was essentially necessarythat he should notice her in some way, and he walked up to her, andoffered her his hand. It was impossible that he should allude to whatwas past, and he merely muttered something as he stood over her. Shehad blushed up to her eyes, and was absolutely dumb. "Mr. Maule,perhaps you'll take our cousin Adelaide out to dinner," said theDuchess, a moment afterwards, whispering in his ear.
"Have you forgiven me?" he said to her, as they passed from one roomto the other.
"I will,--if you care to be forgiven." The Duchess had been quiteright, and the quarrel was all over without any arrangement.
On the following morning he was allowed to walk about the groundswithout any impediment, and to visit the ruins which had looked socharming to him from the window. Nor was he alone. Miss Palliser wasnow by no means anxious as she had been yesterday to keep out
of theway, and was willingly persuaded to show him all the beauties of theplace.
"I shouldn't have said what I did, I know," pleaded Maule.
"Never mind it now, Gerard."
"I mean about going to Boulogne."
"It did sound so melancholy."
"But I only meant that we should have to be very careful how welived. I don't know quite whether I am so good at being careful aboutmoney as a fellow ought to be."
"You must take a lesson from me, sir."
"I have sent the horses to Tattersall's," he said in a tone that wasalmost funereal.
"What!--already?"
"I gave the order yesterday. They are to be sold,--I don't know when.They won't fetch anything. They never do. One always buys bad horsesthere for a lot of money, and sells good ones for nothing. Where thedifference goes to I never could make out."
"I suppose the man gets it who sells them."
"No; he don't. The fellows get it who have their eyes open. My eyesnever were open,--except as far as seeing you went."
"Perhaps if you had opened them wider you wouldn't have to go to--"
"Don't, Adelaide. But, as I was saying about the horses, when they'resold of course the bills won't go on. And I suppose things will comeright. I don't owe so very much."
"I've got something to tell you," she said.
"What about?"
"You're to see my cousin to-day at two o'clock."
"The Duke?"
"Yes,--the Duke; and he has got a proposition. I don't know that youneed sell your horses, as it seems to make you so very unhappy. Youremember Madame Goesler?"
"Of course I do. She was at Harrington."
"There's something about a legacy which I can't understand at all. Itis ever so much money, and it did belong to the old Duke. They sayit is to be mine,--or yours rather, if we should ever be married.And then you know, Gerard, perhaps, after all, you needn't go toBoulogne." So she took her revenge, and he had his as he pressed hisarm round her waist and kissed her among the ruins of the old Priory.
Precisely at two to the moment he had his interview with the Duke,and very disagreeable it was to both of them. The Duke was boundto explain that the magnificent present which was being made tohis cousin was a gift, not from him, but from Madame Goesler; and,though he was intent on making this as plain as possible, he didnot like the task. "The truth is, Mr. Maule, that Madame Goesler isunwilling, for reasons with which I need not trouble you, to takethe legacy which was left to her by my uncle. I think her reasons tobe insufficient, but it is a matter in which she must, of course,judge for herself. She has decided,--very much, I fear, at my wife'sinstigation, which I must own I regret,--to give the money to oneof our family, and has been pleased to say that my cousin Adelaideshall be the recipient of her bounty. I have nothing to do with it.I cannot stop her generosity if I would, nor can I say that my cousinought to refuse it. Adelaide will have the entire sum as her fortune,short of the legacy duty, which, as you are probably aware, will beten per cent., as Madame Goesler was not related to my uncle. Themoney will, of course, be settled on my cousin and on her children.I believe that will be all I shall have to say, except that LadyGlencora,--the Duchess, I mean,--wishes that Adelaide should bemarried from our house. If this be so I shall, of course, hope tohave the honour of giving my cousin away." The Duke was by no meansa pompous man, and probably there was no man in England of so highrank who thought so little of his rank. But he was stiff and somewhatungainly, and the task which he was called upon to execute had beenvery disagreeable to him. He bowed when he had finished his speech,and Gerard Maule felt himself bound to go, almost without expressinghis thanks.
"My dear Mr. Maule," said Madame Goesler, "you literally must notsay a word to me about it. The money was not mine, and under nocircumstances would or could be mine. I have given nothing, and couldnot have presumed to make such a present. The money, I take it, doesundoubtedly belong to the present Duke, and, as he does not want it,it is very natural that it should go to his cousin. I trust that youmay both live to enjoy it long, but I cannot allow any thanks to begiven to me by either of you."
After that he tried the Duchess, who was somewhat more gracious. "Thetruth is, Mr. Maule, you are a very lucky man to find twenty thousandpounds and more going begging about the country in that way."
"Indeed I am, Duchess."
"And Adelaide is lucky, too, for I doubt whether either of you aregiven to any very penetrating economies. I am told that you likehunting."
"I have sent my horses to Tattersall's."
"There is enough now for a little hunting, I suppose, unless youhave a dozen children. And now you and Adelaide must settle whenit's to be. I hate things to be delayed. People go on quarrellingand fancying this and that, and thinking that the world is full ofromance and poetry. When they get married they know better."
"I hope the romance and poetry do not all vanish."
"Romance and poetry are for the most part lies, Mr. Maule, and arevery apt to bring people into difficulty. I have seen something ofthem in my time, and I much prefer downright honest figures. Two andtwo make four; idleness is the root of all evil; love your neighbourlike yourself, and the rest of it. Pray remember that Adelaide is tobe married from here, and that we shall be very happy that you shouldmake every use you like of our house until then."
We may so far anticipate in our story as to say that AdelaidePalliser and Gerard Maule were married from Matching Priory atMatching Church early in that October, and that as far as thecoming winter was concerned, there certainly was no hunting forthe gentleman. They went to Naples instead of Boulogne, and thereremained till the warm weather came in the following spring. Nor wasthat peremptory sale at Tattersall's countermanded as regarded any ofthe horses. What prices were realised the present writer has neverbeen able to ascertain.