CHAPTER VI.
SIR LIONEL IN TROUBLE.
It has been said that Miss Baker was going to spend the evening withan old friend. I trust that Miss Todd, umquhile of the valley ofJehoshaphat, and now of No. 7 Paragon, Littlebath, has not beenforgotten; Miss Todd of the free heart and the rosy face.
Yes, Miss Todd had come to Littlebath, and was intent rather onforming a party of Toddites than of joining herself to either of theregular sets. She was perhaps not much given to be pious, and shecertainly was but ill inclined to be slow. If fast, however, shechose to be fast in her own line.
But before we have the pleasure of attending at her _soiree_, we mustsay a word or two of one of the most distinguished of the expectedguests. Sir Lionel was to be there.
Now Sir Lionel had been leading a pleasant life at Littlebath, withone single exception--that he was rather in want of funds. He hadcapital apartments, four rooms _ensuite_, a man-servant, a groom,three horses, and a phaeton, and no one was more looked up to atLittlebath. Ladies smiled, young men listened, old gentlemen broughtout their best wines, and all was delightful. All but this, that the"res angusta" did occasionally remind him that he was mortal. Oh,that sordid brother of his, who could have given him thousands onthousands without feeling the loss of them! We have been unable tosee much of old Mr. Bertram in recapitulating the story of young Mr.Bertram's latter doings. But it should have been said, that early inthe present year he had not been quite as well as his friends couldwish. George had gone to see him once or twice, and so also had hisniece Miss Baker, and his granddaughter. He had said but very littleto them; but on Miss Baker's mind an impression had been left that itwould please him to see the marriage completed.
And at this time likewise his brother, Sir Lionel, had thought itexpedient to see him. There had hitherto been no interview betweenthem since Sir Lionel's return. The colonel had found out, and hadbeen duly astonished at finding out, the history of Miss Baker andher niece. That George and Caroline would be the heirs to a greatportion of his brother's money he could not doubt; that Miss Bakerwould have something he thought probable; and then he reflected, thatin spite of all that was come and gone, his brother's heart mightrelent on his death-bed. It might be that he could talk the sick manround; and if that were impracticable, he might at least learn howothers stood in his brother's favour. Sir Lionel was not now a youngman himself. Ease and a settled life would be good for him. What, ifhe married Miss Baker!
He first called on Pritchett. Mr. Pritchett told him that his brotherwas better--considerably better. Sir Lionel was in raptures. He hadhurried up from Littlebath in an agony. He had heard most distressingaccounts. He would however go down to Hadley and see his brother.
"I am afraid Mr. Bertram is not very much up to company just atpresent," wheezed out Mr. Pritchett.
"But a brother, you know," suggested Sir Lionel.
Pritchett knew exactly how the brothers stood with each other; and hehimself, though he was very partial to Mr. George, had not any warmlove for Sir Lionel.
"Oh, yes; a brother is a brother, surely. But, Mr. Bertram, you know,sir--"
"You mean," said Sir Lionel, "that he is a little vexed about theaccount."
"Oh, yes, the account; there is the account, Sir Lionel. If it isto settle that, perhaps I can manage without troubling you to goto Hadley. Not but what settling the account _will_ make matterssmoother."
Sir Lionel could get nothing more from Mr. Pritchett; but he wouldnot be put off from his intention, and he did go to Hadley. He foundhis brother sitting up in the dining-room, but he would not haveknown him. And, indeed, many who had seen him lately might have hadsome difficulty in recognizing him. He was not only lean and lank,and worn and wan, but he spoke with some difficulty, and on closeexamination it might be seen that his mouth was twisted as it werefrom the centre of his face. Since his relatives had seen him he hadsuffered what is genteelly called a slight threatening of paralysis.
But his mind, if touched at all, had recovered itself; and his spiritwas in nowise paralyzed. When Sir Lionel was shown into the room--hehad first of all taken the precaution of sending down his card fromthe hotel, and saying that he would call in half an hour--the old manput out his hand to him, but did not attempt to rise from his chair.It must be remembered that the brothers had not seen each other formore than fifteen years.
Sir Lionel had tutored himself carefully as to what he would say andwhat do. "George," he said, and the old man shrank as he heard theunaccustomed name. "When I heard that you were ill, I could not butcome and see you."
"Very good of you, Sir Lionel; very good of you," growled the oldman.
"It is fifteen years since we met, and we are both old men now."
"I am an old man now, and nearly worn out; too old and far gone tohave many wants. You are not in that condition, I suppose."
There was an amount of sarcasm in his voice as he spoke, and in hiseye also as he looked at his brother, which made Sir Lionel perfectlyunderstand that his rich relative was not specially anxious to bekind to him.
"Well, we are neither of us quite so far gone as that, I hope--notquite so far gone as that;" and Sir Lionel looked very pleasant."But, speaking for myself, I have not many wants now"--nor had he,pleasant old man that he was; only three or four comfortable roomsfor himself and his servant; a phaeton and a pair of horses; andanother smaller establishment in a secluded quiet street; nothingmore than that, including of course all that was excellent in theeating and drinking line--"speaking for myself, I have not many wantsnow." And he did look very good-humoured and pleasant as he spoke.
Mr. Bertram senior did not look good-humoured or pleasant. There wasthat in his old eye which was the very opposite to good-humour andpleasantness.
"Ah!" said he. "Well I am glad of that, for you will be able to dothe more for poor George. He will have wants; he is going to takecare and trouble on himself. Neither he nor his sweetheart have, Itake it, been accustomed to do without wants; and their income willbe tight enough--forby what you can do for them."
The colonel sat and still looked pleasant, but he began to think thatit might be as well for him that he was back at Littlebath.
"Poor George! I hope they will be happy. I think they will; mygreatest anxiety now is of course for their happiness; and yours isthe same, doubtless. It is odd that my child and your child's childshould thus come together, is it not?" so spoke the colonel.
Mr. Bertram looked at him; looked through him almost, but he saidnothing.
"It is odd," continued Sir Lionel, "but a very happy circumstance.She is certainly the sweetest girl I ever saw; and George is a luckyfellow."
"Yes, he is a lucky fellow; he will get more than he has any rightto expect. First and last she will have six thousand pounds. I havenot heard him say what he means to settle on her; but perhaps he waswaiting till you had come home."
Sir Lionel's forte during his whole official career had been themaking pleasant--by the pleasantness that was innate in him--thingswhich appeared to be going in a very unpleasant manner. But how washe to make things pleasant now?
"Well, you see, George has been so much knocked about! There was hisfellowship. I think they behaved shabbily enough to him."
"Fellowship! One hundred and seventy pounds a year and the run of histeeth at feast time, or some such thing as that. A man can't marry onhis fellowship very well!"
"Ha! ha! ha! no, he can't exactly do that. On the whole, I think itwas quite as well that he threw it up; and so I told him."
"Did you tell him at the same time what his future income was to be?"
"No, upon my soul I did not; but if all I hear be true, I believe youdid. You have been exceedingly generous to him, George--and to mealso."
"Then, Sir Lionel, allow me to tell you that all you hear is nottrue. Anything at all that you may have heard of that kind, if youhave heard anything, is perfectly false. I have said nothing toGeorge about his income, and have nothing to say to him."
"Well, I may ha
ve expressed myself wrongly, and perhaps you did saynothing. I was alluding especially to what you have done."
"I will tell you exactly what I have done. I thought he showed a highspirit when he threw up his fellowship, and as I had always a greatcontempt for those Oxford fellows, I sent him a thousand pounds. Itwas a present, and I hope he will make good use of it."
"I am sure he will," said Sir Lionel, who certainly had just causefor such confidence, seeing how large a slice out of the sum had beenplaced at his own disposal.
"I am sure he will," said Sir Lionel. "Indeed, I know that he has."
"Ah, I'm glad to hear of it; of course you know more about it than Ido; of course you are arranging these matters. But that is all he hashad from me, and all that he is likely to have."
If such were to be the treatment of George, of George who wascertainly in some respects a favourite, what hope could Sir Lionelhave for himself? But it was not so much his brother's words whichled him to fear that his brother's money-bags were impregnable to himas his brother's voice and his brother's eye. That eye was never offhim, and Sir Lionel did begin to wish that he was at Littlebath.
"I don't know whether George may have formed any hopes," continuedthe old man; but here Sir Lionel interrupted him, and notimprudently: if anything was to be said, it should be said now.
"Well, if he has formed hopes, George, you cannot but own that it isnatural. He has looked on you as a man without any child of your own,and he has been taught so to look by your treating him almost asthough he were your son."
"You mean that I paid his school debts and his Oxford debts when youforgot to do so," growled out the elder brother.
"Yes, and that you afterwards gave him an income when he came upto live in London. I hope you do not think that I am ungrateful,George?" and Sir Lionel used his softest and, at the same time, hismost expressive tone.
"Grateful! I seldom look for much gratitude. But I shall be glad toknow when it may suit you to settle with me. The account has beenrunning on now for a great many years. Probably Pritchett may havesent it you." And as he spoke Mr. Bertram rose from his chair andtook an ominous-looking piece of paper from off the mantelpiece.
"Yes, Mr. Pritchett is punctuality itself in these matters," said SirLionel, with a gentle laugh, which had not about it all his usualpleasantness.
"You have probably checked it, and can say whether or no it becorrect," said Mr. Bertram senior, looking at the paper in his hand.
"Well, I can't say that I have exactly; but I don't in the leastdoubt the figures, not in the least; Mr. Pritchett is always correct,I know."
"Yes, Mr. Pritchett is generally correct. And may I ask, Sir Lionel,what you intend to do in the matter?"
It was necessary now that Sir Lionel should summon up his bestcourage. He reminded himself that after all his brother was but afeeble old man--impotent in all but money; and as it seemed now clearthat no further pecuniary aid was to be expected, why need he fearhim on this account? Had it been possible for him to get away withoutfurther talk, he would have done so; but this was not possible, so hedetermined to put a good face on it.
"I suppose you are joking now, George," said he.
I wish I could describe the tone of voice in which the word jokingwas repeated by the elder Mr. Bertram. It made the military knightjump in his chair, and confess to himself that the word impotentcould not be safely applied to his ancient relative.
"Well, I dare say it is a joke," the old man went on to say. "If Iexpect to be paid what I have expended in saving George from beingturned loose upon the world without education, I suppose it is ajoke. Ha! ha! ha! I never thought of laughing at it before, but now Iwill. I always heard that you were a joker, Sir Lionel. Ha! ha! ha! Idare say you have laughed at it often enough yourself, eh?"
"What I mean is this, when you took upon yourself George's educationand maintenance, you could hardly have intended to have it paid backagain by such a poor devil as I am."
"Oh, I couldn't, couldn't I?"
"At any rate, I don't suppose you did count on having your moneyback."
"Well, I must admit this, I did not feel very sure of it; I did thinkthere might be a doubt. But what could I do? I could not let poorWilkinson ruin himself because you would not pay your debts."
"I am sorry that you take it up in such a manner," said the colonel,assuming a tone of injured innocence. "I came here because I heardthat you were ill--"
"Thought I was dying, eh?"
"I did not exactly think that you were dying, George; but I knew thatyou were very ill, and old feelings came back on me. The feelingsof our early youth, George; and I could not be happy without seeingyou."
"Very kind of you, I am sure. You altogether decline then to settlethe account, eh?"
"If you desire it, I will--will make arrangements, certainly; you donot want it all at once, I suppose?"
"Oh, no; half in three months, and other half in six will do for me."
"It would take a great deal more than all my income to do that, Ifear."
"Your professional income; yes, I suppose it would. I fear theydon't give you five or six thousand a year for staying at home atLittlebath. But surely you must have saved money; you must haveintended to do something for your son?"
"I have looked upon him as provided for by his uncle."
"Oh!"
"And have therefore been satisfied that he would do well."
"Now, Sir Lionel, I will tell you how the matter is. I know you willnever repay me a shilling of this money, and therefore I shall tellPritchett not to bother himself with sending you any more accounts."
"He is a worthy man, and I am sorry he should have had so muchtrouble."
"So am I, very; but that's done. He has had the trouble, and I'vepaid the money; and, as far as George is concerned, I do not begrudgeit."
"You would not if you knew what his sentiments are."
"I don't care a fig for his sentiments."
"His feelings of gratitude to you are very strong."
"No, they are not. He is not in the least grateful to me, nor do Iwish him to be so. He is an honest lad, with a high spirit, a goodheart, and a bad head. Sometimes I have thought of making him myheir."
"Ah!" sighed Sir Lionel.
"But I have now firmly made up my mind to do no such thing. He has noknowledge of the worth of money. He does not value money."
"Oh, there you mistake him; indeed, you do."
"He would do no good with it; and, as regards mine, he won't haveit." Sir Lionel's face again became very doleful.
"But who will have it, George? Whom else have you got to leave itto?"
"When I want to consult you on that subject, I'll send for you; justat present I have no wish to do so. And now, if you please, we'll sayno more about money."
Nothing more was said about money, and very little on any othersubject. On what other subject could a pleasant votary of pleasure,such as Sir Lionel, wish to hold conversation with a worn-out oldmiser from the city? He had regarded his brother as a very fullsponge, from which living water might probably be squeezed. But thesponge, it seemed, was no longer squeezable by him in any way. So heleft Hadley as quickly as he could, and betook himself to Littlebathwith a somewhat saddened heart. He consoled himself, however, byreflecting that an old man's whims are seldom very enduring, and thatGeorge might yet become a participator in the huge prize; if not onhis own account, at least on that of his wife.
Sir Lionel returned to Littlebath, resolving that come what might hewould not again have personal recourse to his brother. He had triedhis diplomatic powers and had failed--failed in that line on beingsuccessful in which he so pre-eminently piqued himself. In Ireland itis said of any man who is more than ordinarily persuasive, that hecan "talk the devil out of the liver wing of a turkey!" Sir Lionelhad always supposed himself to be gifted with this eloquence; but inthat discourse at Hadley, the devil had been too stout for him, andhe had gone away without any wing at all--liver or other.
On o
ne point on which he had been very anxious to say a word or two,he had been unable to introduce the slightest hint. He had not dreamtthat it would be possible to ask his brother in so many words whetheror no Miss Baker would be made a participator in the great prize; buthe had imagined that he might have led the way to some conversationwhich would have shown what were the old man's feelings withreference to that lady. But, as the reader will have perceived, hehad not been able to lead the conversation in any way; and he hadleft Hadley without further light for the guidance of his steps inthat matrimonial path in which he had contemplated the expediency oftaking a leisurely evening stroll.
The wicked old miser had declared that George should not be his heir;and had also said that which was tantamount to a similar declarationregarding Caroline. She would have six thousand pounds, first andlast. Nothing more than a beggarly six thousand pounds, of whichtwo-thirds were already her own without thanks to any one. What awretched old miser! Who then would have his money? It would hardly bepossible that he would leave it all to Miss Baker. And yet he might.It was just possible. Anything was possible with a capricious miserlyold fool like that. What a catch would it be if he, Sir Lionel, couldbecome the heir in so deliciously easy a manner!
But, in all probability, anything the old man might say was exactlythe opposite of that which he intended to do. He probably would leavehis money to George--or very probably to Caroline; but most probablyhe would do something for Miss Baker; something handsome for thatsoft, obedient handmaid who had never disobeyed any of his commands;and, better still, had never drawn upon him for more than her regularallowance.
Such were Sir Lionel's thoughts as he made his way back toLittlebath. Yes; he would make himself acceptable to Miss Baker. ThatGeorge, old George, was not long for this world was very evidentto the colonel. He, troublesome old cross-grained churl that hewas, would soon be out of the way. Such being certain--all butcertain--could not Sir Lionel manage matters in this way? Could henot engage himself to the lady while his brother was yet alive, andthen marry her afterwards--marry her, or perhaps not marry her,as might then become expedient? He was well sure of this, that ifshe promised to marry him before her acquisition of fortune, suchacquisition would not induce her to break off from the match. "Sheis too true, too honourable for that," said Sir Lionel to himself,feeling a warm admiration for the truth of her character, as heresolved how he might himself best back out of such an engagement inthe event of its being expedient for him so to do.
So passed his thoughts as he made his way back to Littlebath.And when there he did not allow idleness to mar his schemes. Heimmediately began to make himself pleasant--more than ordinarilypleasant to Miss Baker. He did not make love to her after the mannerof his youth. Had he done so, he would only have frightened thegentle lady. But he was assiduous in his attentions, soft and sweetlyflattering in his speech, and friendly, oh, so friendly, in hismanner! He called almost every day at Montpellier Crescent. To besure, there was nothing unnatural in this, for was he not about tobecome the father of his dear Caroline? But dear to him as his dearCaroline might be, his softest whispers, his most sugared words, werealways for her aunt.
He had ever some little proposition to make, some kind familysuggestion to put forward. He was a man of the world; they wereladies, delicate, unfit for coping with the world, necessarilyignorant of its naughtier, darker ways; he would do everything forthem: and by degrees he did almost everything for Miss Baker.
And so that lady was charmed without knowing it. Let us do her fulljustice. She had not the remotest idea of opening a flirtation withSir Lionel Bertram. She had looked on him as the future father-in-lawof her own dear child; never as anything more: no idea of becomingLady Bertram had ever for an instant flashed upon her imagination.But, nevertheless, by degrees the warrior's attentions becamepleasant to her.
She had had no youthful adorers, this poor, good Miss Baker; never,at least, since she had been merry as other children are, "when herlittle lovers came." She had advanced to her present nearly matureage without perhaps feeling the want of them. But, nevertheless, evenin her bosom was living the usual feminine passion for admiration.She was no "lusus naturae," but a woman with a heart, and blood in herveins; and not as yet a very old woman either. And therefore, thoughshe had no idea that Sir Lionel was her lover, she had learned to befond of him.
Her little conversations with Caroline on this subject weredelightful. The younger lady was certainly the sharper of the two;and though she had her own concerns to occupy her, she was able tosee that something might perhaps be intended. Her liking for SirLionel was by no means a strong passion. Something probably hadpassed between her and George; for George could keep no secret fromher. At any rate, she suspected the knight, but she could not sayanything to put her aunt on her guard beyond using cold expressionsin speaking of her future father. But Miss Baker, who suspectednothing, who expected nothing, could not be too lavish in herpraises.
"Caroline," she would say, "I do think you are so happy in havingsuch a father-in-law."
"Oh, certainly," Caroline had answered. "But, for myself, I thinkmore of my father-in-law's son."
"Oh, of course you do; I know that. But Sir Lionel is such a perfectgentleman. Did you ever know a gentleman of his age so attentive toladies as he is?"
"Well, perhaps not; except one or two old men whom I have seen makinglove."
"That's a very different sort of thing, you know--that's absurd. ButI must say I think Sir Lionel's behaviour is perfect." What would shehave said of Sir Lionel's behaviour had she known all the secrets ofhis establishments?
And thus, partly on Sir Lionel's account, Miss Baker began in thesedays to have perhaps her hottest fit, her strongest wish withreference to her niece's marriage. And then just at this hottestmoment came the blow which has been told of in the last chapter.
But Miss Baker, as she prepared herself for Miss Todd's party, wouldnot believe that the matter was hopeless. The quarrels of lovers haveever been the renewal of love, since the day when a verb between twonominative cases first became possessed of the power of agreeingwith either of them. There is something in this sweet easiness ofagreement which seems to tend to such reconciliations. Miss Baker wastoo good a grammarian to doubt the fact.
She would probably, under existing circumstances, have stayed at homewith her niece, but that she knew she should meet Sir Lionel at MissTodd's party. She was very anxious to learn whether Sir Lionel hadheard of this sad interruption to their harmony; anxious to hear whatSir Lionel would say about it; anxious to concert measures with SirLionel for repairing the breach--that is, if Sir Lionel should appearto be cognizant that the breach existed. If she should find thathe was not cognizant, she would not tell him; at least she thoughtshe would not. Circumstances must of course govern her conduct toa certain degree when the moment of meeting should arrive. And soMiss Baker went to the party, certainly with a saddened heart, butcomforted in some degree by the assurance that she would meet SirLionel. "Dear Sir Lionel, what a thing it is to have a friend," shesaid to herself as she stepped into the fly. Yes, indeed, the bestthing in the world--the very best. But, dear Miss Baker, it is of allthings the most difficult to acquire--and especially difficult forboth ladies and gentlemen after forty years of age.
In the meantime, Sir Lionel had been calling on Miss Todd--had hearda good deal about Miss Todd; and was strong at heart, as a man isstrong who has two good strings to his bow.