The Belton Estate
CHAPTER XXVI.
THE AYLMER PARK HASHED CHICKEN COMES TO AN END.
Easter in this year fell about the middle of April, and it stillwanted three weeks of that time when Captain Aylmer started forLondon. Clara was quite alive to the fact that the next three weekswould not be a happy time for her. She looked forward, indeed, to somuch wretchedness during this period, that the days as they came werenot quite so bad as she had expected them to be. At first Lady Aylmersaid little or nothing to her. It seemed to be agreed between themthat there was to be war, but that there was no necessity for any ofthe actual operations of war during the absence of Captain Aylmer.Clara had become Miss Amedroz again; and though an offer to bedriven out in the carriage was made to her every day, she was ingeneral able to escape the infliction;--so that at last it came to beunderstood that Miss Amedroz did not like carriage exercise. "She hasnever been used to it," said Lady Aylmer to her daughter. "I supposenot," said Belinda; "but if she wasn't so very cross she'd enjoy itjust for that reason." Clara sometimes walked about the grounds withBelinda, but on such occasions there was hardly anything that couldbe called conversation between them, and Frederic Aylmer's name wasnever mentioned.
Captain Aylmer had not been gone many days before she received aletter from her cousin, in which he spoke with absolute certainty ofhis intention of giving up the estate. He had, he said, consultedMr. Green, and the thing was to be done. "But it will be better,I think," he went on to say, "that I should manage it for you tillafter your marriage. I simply mean what I say. You are not to supposethat I shall interfere in any way afterwards. Of course there will bea settlement, as to which I hope you will allow me to see Mr. Greenon your behalf." In the first draught of his letter he had inserted asentence in which he expressed a wish that the property should be sosettled that it might at last all come to some one bearing the nameof Belton. But as he read this over, the condition,--for coming fromhim it would be a condition,--seemed to him to be ungenerous, and heexpunged it. "What does it matter who has it," he said to himselfbitterly, "or what he is called? I will never set my eyes upon hischildren, nor yet upon the place when he has become the master ofit." Clara wrote both to her cousin and to the lawyer, repeatingher assurance,--with great violence, as Lady Aylmer would havesaid,--that she would have nothing to do with the Belton estate. Shetold Mr. Green that it would be useless for him to draw up any deeds."It can't be made mine unless I choose to have it," she said, "and Idon't choose to have it." Then there came upon her a terrible fear.What if she should marry Captain Aylmer after all; and what if he,when he should be her husband, should take the property on herbehalf! Something must be done before her marriage to prevent thepossibility of such results,--something as to the efficacy of whichfor such prevention she could feel altogether certain.
But could she marry Captain Aylmer at all in her present mood? Duringthese three weeks she was unconsciously teaching herself to hope thatshe might be relieved from her engagement. She did not love him. Shewas becoming aware that she did not love him. She was beginning todoubt whether, in truth, she had ever loved him. But yet she feltthat she could not escape from her engagement if he should showhimself to be really actuated by any fixed purpose to carry it out;nor could she bring herself to be so weak before Lady Aylmer as toseem to yield. The necessity of not striking her colours was forcedupon her by the warfare to which she was subjected. She was unhappy,feeling that her present position in life was bad, and unworthy ofher. She could have brought herself almost to run away from AylmerPark, as a boy runs away from school, were it not that she had noplace to which to run. She could not very well make her appearanceat Plaistow Hall, and say that she had come there for shelter andsuccour. She could, indeed, go to Mrs. Askerton's cottage for awhile;and the more she thought of the state of her affairs, the more didshe feel sure that that would, before long, be her destiny. It mustbe her destiny,--unless Captain Aylmer should return at Easter withpurposes so firmly fixed that even his mother should not be able toprevail against them.
And now, in these days, circumstances gave her a new friend,--orperhaps, rather, a new acquaintance, where she certainly had lookedneither for the one or for the other. Lady Aylmer and Belinda and thecarriage and the horses used, as I have said, to go off without her.This would take place soon after luncheon. Most of us know how theevents of the day drag themselves on tediously in such a countryhouse as Aylmer Park,--a country house in which people neither read,nor flirt, nor gamble, nor smoke, nor have resort to the excitementof any special amusement. Lunch was on the table at half-past one,and the carriage was at the door at three. Eating and drinkingand the putting on of bonnets occupied the hour and a half. Frombreakfast to lunch Lady Aylmer, with her old "front," would occupyherself with her household accounts. For some days after Clara'sarrival she put on her new "front" before lunch; but of late,--sincethe long conversation in the carriage,--the new "front" did notappear till she came down for the carriage. According to the theoryof her life, she was never to be seen by any but her own familyin her old "front." At breakfast she would appear with head somysteriously enveloped,--with such a bewilderment of morning caps,that old "front" or new "front" was all the same. When Sir Anthonyperceived this change,--when he saw that Clara was treated as thoughshe belonged to Aylmer Park, then he told himself that his son'smarriage with Miss Amedroz was to be; and, as Miss Amedroz seemedto him to be a very pleasant young woman, he would creep out of hisown quarters when the carriage was gone and have a little chat withher,--being careful to creep away again before her ladyship's return.This was Clara's new friend.
"Have you heard from Fred since he has been gone?" the old man askedone day, when he had come upon Clara still seated in the parlour inwhich they had lunched. He had been out, at the front of the house,scolding the under-gardener; but the man had taken away his barrowand left him, and Sir Anthony had found himself without employment.
"Only a line to say that he is to be here on the sixteenth."
"I don't think people write so many love-letters as they did when Iwas young," said Sir Anthony.
"To judge from the novels, I should think not. The old novels used tobe full of love-letters."
"Fred was never good at writing, I think."
"Members of Parliament have too much to do, I suppose," said Clara.
"But he always writes when there is any business. He's a capital manof business. I wish I could say as much for his brother,--or formyself."
"Lady Aylmer seems to like work of that sort."
"So she does. She's fond of it,--I am not. I sometimes think thatFred takes after her. Where was it you first knew him?"
"At Perivale. We used, both of us, to be staying with Mrs.Winterfield."
"Yes, yes; of course. The most natural thing in life. Well, my dear,I can assure you that I am quite satisfied."
"Thank you, Sir Anthony. I'm glad to hear you say even as much asthat."
"Of course money is very desirable for a man situated like Fred; buthe'll have enough, and if he is pleased, I am. Personally, as regardsyourself, I am more than pleased. I am indeed."
"It's very good of you to say so."
Sir Anthony looked at Clara, and his heart was softened towards heras he saw that there was a tear in her eye. A man's heart must bevery hard when it does not become softened by the trouble of a womanwith whom he finds himself alone. "I don't know how you and LadyAylmer get on together," said he; "but it will not be my fault if weare not friends."
"I am afraid that Lady Aylmer does not like me," said Clara.
"Indeed. I was afraid there was something of that. But you mustremember she is hard to please. You'll find she'll come round intime."
"She thinks that Captain Aylmer should not marry a woman withoutmoney."
"That's all very well; but I don't see why Fred shouldn't pleasehimself. He's old enough to know what he wants."
"Is he, Sir Anthony? That's just the question. I'm not quite surethat he does know what he wants."
"Fred doesn't kno
w, do you mean?"
"I don't quite think he does, sir. And the worst of it is, I am indoubt as well as he."
"In doubt about marrying him?"
"In doubt whether it will be good for him or for any of us. I don'tlike to come into a family that does not desire to have me."
"You shouldn't think so much of Lady Aylmer as all that, my dear."
"But I do think a great deal of her."
"I shall be very glad to have you as a daughter-in-law. And as forLady Aylmer--between you and me, my dear, you shouldn't take everyword she says so much to heart. She's the best woman in the world,and I'm sure I'm bound to say so. But she has her temper, you know;and I don't think you ought to give way to her altogether. There'sthe carriage. It won't do you any good if we're found togethertalking over it all; will it?" Then the baronet hobbled off, and LadyAylmer, when she entered the room, found Clara sitting alone.
Whether it was that the wife was clever enough to extract from herhusband something of the conversation that had passed between himand Clara, or whether she had some other source of information,--orwhether her conduct might proceed from other grounds, we need notinquire; but from that afternoon Lady Aylmer's manner and words toClara became much less courteous than they had been before. She wouldalways speak as though some great iniquity was being committed, andwent about the house with a portentous frown, as though some terriblemeasure must soon be taken with the object of putting an end to thepresent extremely improper state of things. All this was so manifestto Clara, that she said to Sir Anthony one day that she could nolonger bear the look of Lady Aylmer's displeasure,--and that shewould be forced to leave Aylmer Park before Frederic's return, unlessthe evil were mitigated. She had by this time told Sir Anthony thatshe much doubted whether the marriage would be possible, and that shereally believed that it would be best for all parties that the ideashould be abandoned. Sir Anthony, when he heard this, could onlyshake his head and hobble away. The trouble was too deep for him tocure.
But Clara still held on; and now there wanted but two days to CaptainAylmer's return, when, all suddenly, there arose a terrible storm atAylmer Park, and then came a direct and positive quarrel between LadyAylmer and Clara,--a quarrel direct and positive, and, on the part ofboth ladies, very violent.
Nothing had hitherto been said at Aylmer Park about Mrs.Askerton,--nothing, that is, since Clara's arrival. And Clara hadbeen thankful for this silence. The letter which Captain Aylmer hadwritten to her about Mrs. Askerton will perhaps be remembered, andClara's answer to that letter. The Aylmer Park opinion as to thispoor woman, and as to Clara's future conduct towards the poor woman,had been expressed very strongly; and Clara had as strongly resolvedthat she would not be guided by Aylmer Park opinions in that matter.She had anticipated much that was disagreeable on this subject, andhad therefore congratulated herself not a little on the absence ofall allusion to it. But Lady Aylmer had, in truth, kept Mrs. Askertonin reserve, as a battery to be used against Miss Amedroz if all othermodes of attack should fail,--as a weapon which would be powerfulwhen other weapons had been powerless. For awhile she had thoughtit possible that Clara might be the owner of the Belton estate, andthen it had been worth the careful mother's while to be prepared toaccept a daughter-in-law so dowered. We have seen how the questionof such ownership had enabled her to put forward the plea of povertywhich she had used on her son's behalf. But since that Frederic haddeclared his intention of marrying the young woman in spite of hispoverty, and Clara seemed to be equally determined. "He has been foolenough to speak the word, and she is determined to keep him to it,"said Lady Aylmer to her daughter. Therefore the Askerton battery wasbrought to bear,--not altogether unsuccessfully.
The three ladies were sitting together in the drawing-room, and hadbeen as mute as fishes for half an hour. In these sittings they weregenerally very silent, speaking only in short little sentences. "Willyou drive with us to-day, Miss Amedroz?" "Not to-day, I think, LadyAylmer." "As you are reading, perhaps you won't mind our leavingyou?" "Pray do not put yourself to inconvenience for me, MissAylmer." Such and such like was their conversation; but on a sudden,after a full half-hour's positive silence, Lady Aylmer asked aquestion altogether of another kind. "I think, Miss Amedroz, my sonwrote to you about a certain Mrs. Askerton?"
Clara put down her work and sat for a moment almost astonished.It was not only that Lady Aylmer had asked so very disagreeable aquestion, but that she had asked it with so peculiar a voice,--avoice as it were a command, in a manner that was evidently intendedto be taken as serious, and with a look of authority in her eye, asthough she were resolved that this battery of hers should knock theenemy absolutely in the dust! Belinda gave a little spring in herchair, looked intently at her work, and went on stitching fasterthan before. "Yes he did," said Clara, finding that an answer wasimperatively demanded from her.
"It was quite necessary that he should write. I believe it to be anundoubted fact that Mrs. Askerton is,--is,--is,--not at all what sheought to be."
"Which of us is what we ought to be?" said Clara.
"Miss Amedroz, on this subject I am not at all inclined to joke. Isit not true that Mrs. Askerton--"
"You must excuse me, Lady Aylmer, but what I know of Mrs. Askerton,I know altogether in confidence; so that I cannot speak to you of herpast life."
"But, Miss Amedroz, pray excuse me if I say that I must speak ofit. When I remember the position in which you do us the honour ofbeing our visitor here, how can I help speaking of it?" Belindawas stitching very hard, and would not even raise her eyes. Clara,who still held her needle in her hand, resumed her work, and for amoment or two made no further answer. But Lady Aylmer had by no meanscompleted her task. "Miss Amedroz," she said, "you must allow me tojudge for myself in this matter. The subject is one on which I feelmyself obliged to speak to you."
"But I have got nothing to say about it."
"You have, I believe, admitted the truth of the allegations madeby us as to this woman." Clara was becoming very angry. A red spotshowed itself on each cheek, and a frown settled upon her brow. Shedid not as yet know what she would say or how she would conductherself. She was striving to consider how best she might assert herown independence. But she was fully determined that in this mattershe would not bend an inch to Lady Aylmer. "I believe we may takethat as admitted?" said her ladyship.
"I am not aware that I have admitted anything to you, Lady Aylmer, orsaid anything that can justify you in questioning me on the subject."
"Justify me in questioning a young woman who tells me that she is tobe my future daughter-in-law!"
"I have not told you so. I have never told you anything of the kind."
"Then on what footing, Miss Amedroz, do you do us the honour of beingwith us here at Aylmer Park?"
"On a very foolish footing."
"On a foolish footing! What does that mean?"
"It means that I have been foolish in coming to a house in which I amsubjected to such questioning."
"Belinda, did you ever hear anything like this? Miss Amedroz, I mustpersevere, however much you may dislike it. The story of this woman'slife,--whether she be Mrs. Askerton or not, I don't know--"
"She is Mrs. Askerton," said Clara.
"As to that I do not profess to know, and I dare say that you areno wiser than myself. But what she has been we do know." Here LadyAylmer raised her voice and continued to speak with all the eloquencewhich assumed indignation could give her. "What she has been we doknow, and I ask you, as a duty which I owe to my son, whether youhave put an end to your acquaintance with so very disreputable aperson,--a person whom even to have known is a disgrace?"
"I know her, and--"
"Stop one minute, if you please. My questions are these--Have you putan end to that acquaintance? And are you ready to give a promise thatit shall never be resumed?"
"I have not put an end to that acquaintance,--or rather thataffectionate friendship as I should call it, and I am ready topromise that it shall be maintained with all my heart
."
"Belinda, do you hear her?"
"Yes, mamma." And Belinda slowly shook her head, which was now bowedlower than ever over her lap.
"And that is your resolution?"
"Yes, Lady Aylmer; that is my resolution."
"And you think that becoming to you, as a young woman?"
"Just so; I think that becoming to me,--as a young woman."
"Then let me tell you, Miss Amedroz, that I differ from youaltogether,--altogether." Lady Aylmer, as she repeated the last word,raised her folded hands as though she were calling upon heaven towitness how thoroughly she differed from the young woman!
"I don't see how I am to help that, Lady Aylmer. I dare say we maydiffer on many subjects."
"I dare say we do. I dare say we do. And I need not point out to youhow very little that would be a matter of regret to me, but for thehold you have upon my unfortunate son."
"Hold upon him, Lady Aylmer! How dare you insult me by suchlanguage?" Hereupon Belinda again jumped in her chair; but LadyAylmer looked as though she enjoyed the storm.
"You undoubtedly have a hold upon him, Miss Amedroz, and I think thatit is a great misfortune. Of course, when he hears what your conductis with reference to this--person, he will release himself from hisentanglement."
"He can release himself from his entanglement whenever he chooses,"said Clara, rising from her chair. "Indeed, he is released. I shalllet Captain Aylmer know that our engagement must be at an end, unlesshe will promise that I shall never in future be subjected to theunwarrantable insolence of his mother." Then she walked off to thedoor, not regarding, and indeed not hearing, the parting shot thatwas fired at her.
And now what was to be done! Clara went up to her own room, makingherself strong and even comfortable, with an inward assurance thatnothing should ever induce her even to sit down to table again withLady Aylmer. She would not willingly enter the same room with LadyAylmer, or have any speech with her. But what should she at once do?She could not very well leave Aylmer Park without settling whithershe would go; nor could she in any way manage to leave the houseon that afternoon. She almost resolved that she would go to Mrs.Askerton. Everything was of course over between her and CaptainAylmer, and therefore there was no longer any hindrance to her doingso on that score. But what would be her cousin Will's wish? He, now,was the only friend to whom she could trust for good council. Whatwould be his advice? Should she write and ask him? No;--she could notdo that. She could not bring herself to write to him, telling himthat the Aylmer "entanglement" was at an end. Were she to do so, he,with his temperament, would take such letter as meaning much morethan it was intended to mean. But she would write a letter to CaptainAylmer. This she thought that she would do at once, and she began it.She got as far as "My dear Captain Aylmer," and then she found thatthe letter was one which could not be written very easily. And sheremembered, as the greatness of the difficulty of writing the letterbecame plain to her, that it could not now be sent so as to reachCaptain Aylmer before he would leave London. If written at all,it must be addressed to him at Aylmer Park, and the task might bedone to-morrow as well as to-day. So that task was given up for thepresent.
But she did write a letter to Mrs. Askerton,--a letter which shewould send or not on the morrow, according to the state of her mindas it might then be. In this she declared her purpose of leavingAylmer Park on the day after Captain Aylmer's arrival, and askedto be taken in at the cottage. An answer was to be sent to her,addressed to the Great Northern Railway Hotel.
Richards, the maid, came up to her before dinner, with offers ofassistance for dressing,--offers made in a tone which left no doubton Clara's mind that Richards knew all about the quarrel. But Claradeclined to be dressed, and sent down a message saying that she wouldremain in her room, and begging to be supplied with tea. She wouldnot even condescend to say that she was troubled with a headache.Then Belinda came up to her, just before dinner was announced, andwith a fluttered gravity advised Miss Amedroz to come down-stairs."Mamma thinks it will be much better that you should show yourself,let the final result be what it may."
"But I have not the slightest desire to show myself."
"There are the servants, you know."
"But, Miss Aylmer, I don't care a straw for the servants;--really nota straw."
"And papa will feel it so."
"I shall be sorry if Sir Anthony is annoyed;--but I cannot help it.It has not been my doing."
"And mamma says that my brother would of course wish it."
"After what your mother has done, I don't see what his wishes wouldhave to do with it,--even if she knew them,--which I don't think shedoes."
"But if you will think of it, I'm sure you'll find it is the properthing to do. There is nothing to be avoided so much as an openquarrel, that all the servants can see."
"I must say, Miss Aylmer, that I disregard the servants. After whatpassed down-stairs, of course I have had to consider what I shoulddo. Will you tell your mother that I will stay here, if she willpermit it?"
"Of course. She will be delighted."
"I will remain, if she will permit it, till the morning after CaptainAylmer's arrival. Then I shall go."
"Where to, Miss Amedroz?"
"I have already written to a friend, asking her to receive me."
Miss Aylmer paused a moment before she asked her next question;--butshe did ask it, showing by her tone and manner that she had beendriven to summon up all her courage to enable her to do so. "To whatfriend, Miss Amedroz? Mamma will be glad to know."
"That is a question which Lady Aylmer can have no right to ask," saidClara.
"Oh;--very well. Of course, if you don't like to tell, there's nomore to be said."
"I do not like to tell, Miss Aylmer."
Clara had her tea in her room that evening, and lived there thewhole of the next day. The family down-stairs was not comfortable.Sir Anthony could not be made to understand why his guest kept herroom,--which was not odd, as Lady Aylmer was very sparing in theinformation she gave him; and Belinda found it to be impossible tosit at table, or to say a few words to her father and mother, withoutshowing at every moment her consciousness that a crisis had occurred.By the next day's post the letter to Mrs. Askerton was sent, andat the appointed time Captain Aylmer arrived. About an hour afterhe entered the house, Belinda went up-stairs with a message fromhim;--would Miss Amedroz see him? Miss Amedroz would see him, butmade it a condition of doing so that she should not be required tomeet Lady Aylmer. "She need not be afraid," said Lady Aylmer. "Unlessshe sends me a full apology, with a promise that she will have nofurther intercourse whatever with that woman, I will never willinglysee her again." A meeting was therefore arranged between CaptainAylmer and Miss Amedroz in a sitting-room up-stairs.
"What is all this, Clara?" said Captain Aylmer, at once.
"Simply this,--that your mother has insulted me most wantonly."
"She says that it is you who have been uncourteous to her."
"Be it so;--you can of course believe whichever you please, and it isdesirable, no doubt, that you should prefer to believe your mother."
"But I do not wish there to be any quarrel."
"But there is a quarrel, Captain Aylmer, and I must leave yourfather's house. I cannot stay here after what has taken place. Yourmother told me;--I cannot tell you what she told me, but she madeagainst me just those accusations which she knew it would be thehardest for me to bear."
"I'm sure you have mistaken her."
"No; I have not mistaken her."
"And where do you propose to go?"
"To Mrs. Askerton."
"Oh, Clara!"
"I have written to Mrs. Askerton to ask her to receive me for awhile.Indeed, I may almost say that I had no other choice."
"If you go there, Clara, there will be an end to everything."
"And there must be an end of what you call everything, CaptainAylmer," said she, smiling. "It cannot be for your good to bring intoyour family a wife of whom your mother would
think so badly as shethinks of me."
There was a great deal said, and Captain Aylmer walked very often upand down the room, endeavouring to make some arrangement which mightseem in some sort to appease his mother. Would Clara only allow atelegram to be sent to Mrs. Askerton, to explain that she had changedher mind? But Clara would allow no such telegram to be sent, and onthat evening she packed up all her things. Captain Aylmer saw heragain and again, sending Belinda backwards and forwards, and makingdifferent appointments up to midnight; but it was all to no purpose,and on the next morning she took her departure alone in the AylmerPark carriage for the railway station. Captain Aylmer had proposed togo with her; but she had so stoutly declined his company that he wasobliged to abandon his intention. She saw neither of the ladies onthat morning, but Sir Anthony came out to say a word of farewell toher in the hall. "I am very sorry for all this," said he. "It is apity," said Clara, "but it cannot be helped. Good-bye, Sir Anthony.""I hope we may meet again under pleasanter circumstances," said thebaronet. To this Clara made no reply, and was then handed into thecarriage by Captain Aylmer.
"I am so bewildered," said he, "that I cannot now say anythingdefinite, but I shall write to you, and probably follow you."
"Do not follow me, pray, Captain Aylmer," said she. Then she wasdriven to the station; and as she passed through the lodges of thepark entrance she took what she intended to be a final farewell ofAylmer Park.