CHAPTER V.
LADY ONGAR'S RETURN.
But Sir Hugh did not get away from Clavering Park on the next morningas he had intended. There came to him that same afternoon a messageby telegraph, to say that Lord Ongar was dead. He had died atFlorence on the afternoon of Christmas-day, and Lady Ongar hadexpressed her intention of coming at once to England.
"Why the devil doesn't she stay where she is?" said Sir Hugh, to hiswife. "People would forget her there, and in twelve months time therow would be all over."
"Perhaps she does not want to be forgotten," said Lady Clavering.
"Then she should want it. I don't care whether she has been guilty ornot. When a woman gets her name into such a mess as that, she shouldkeep in the background."
"I think you are unjust to her, Hugh."
"Of course you do. You don't suppose that I expect anything else. Butif you mean to tell me that there would have been all this row if shehad been decently prudent, I tell you that you're mistaken."
"Only think what a man he was."
"She knew that when she took him, and should have borne with himwhile he lasted. A woman isn't to have seven thousand a year fornothing."
"But you forget that not a syllable has been proved against her, orbeen attempted to be proved. She has never left him, and now she hasbeen with him in his last moments. I don't think you ought to be thefirst to turn against her."
"If she would remain abroad, I would do the best I could for her.She chooses to return home; and as I think she's wrong, I won't haveher here;--that's all. You don't suppose that I go about the worldaccusing her?"
"I think you might do something to fight her battle for her."
"I will do nothing,--unless she takes my advice and remains abroad.You must write to her now, and you will tell her what I say. It's aninfernal bore, his dying at this moment; but I suppose people won'texpect that I'm to shut myself up."
For one day only did the baronet shut himself up, and on thefollowing he went whither he had before intended.
Lady Clavering thought it proper to write a line to the rectory,informing the family there that Lord Ongar was no more. This shedid in a note to Mrs. Clavering; and when it was received, therecame over the faces of them all that lugubrious look, which is, as amatter of course, assumed by decorous people when tidings come of thedeath of any one who has been known to them, even in the most distantway. With the exception of Harry, all the rectory Claverings had beenintroduced to Lord Ongar, and were now bound to express somethingapproaching to sorrow. Will any one dare to call this hypocrisy? Ifit be so called, who in the world is not a hypocrite? Where is theman or woman who has not a special face for sorrow before company?The man or woman who has no such face, would at once be accused ofheartless impropriety.
"It is very sad," said Mrs. Clavering; "only think, it is but littlemore than a year since you married them!"
"And twelve such months as they have been for her!" said the Rector,shaking his head. His face was very lugubrious, for though asa parson he was essentially a kindly, easy man, to whom humbugwas odious, and who dealt little in the austerities of clericaldenunciation, still he had his face of pulpit sorrow for the sins ofthe people,--what I may perhaps call his clerical knack of gentlecondemnation,--and could therefore assume a solemn look, and a littlesaddened motion of his head, with more ease than people who are notoften called upon for such action.
"Poor woman!" said Fanny, thinking of the woman's married sorrows,and her early widowhood.
"Poor man," said Mary, shuddering as she thought of the husband'sfate.
"I hope," said Harry, almost sententiously, "that no one in thishouse will condemn her upon such mere rumours as have been heard."
"Why should any one in this house condemn her," said the Rector,"even if there were more than rumours? My dears, judge not, lest yebe judged. As regards her, we are bound by close ties not to speakill of her--or even to think ill, unless we cannot avoid it. As faras I know, we have not even any reason for thinking ill." Then hewent out, changed the tone of his countenance among the rectorystables, and lit his cigar.
Three days after that a second note was brought down from the greathouse to the rectory, and this was from Lady Clavering to Harry."Dear Harry," ran the note,--"Could you find time to come up to methis morning? Sir Hugh has gone to North Priory.--Ever yours, H. C."Harry, of course, went, and as he went, he wondered how Sir Hughcould have had the heart to go to North Priory at such a moment.North Priory was a hunting seat some thirty miles from Clavering,belonging to a great nobleman with whom Sir Hugh much consorted.Harry was grieved that his cousin had not resisted the temptation ofgoing at such a time, but he was quick enough to perceive that LadyClavering alluded to the absence of her lord as a reason why Harrymight pay his visit to the house with satisfaction.
"I'm so much obliged to you for coming," said Lady Clavering. "I wantto know if you can do something for me." As she spoke, she had apaper in her hand which he immediately perceived to be a letter fromItaly.
"I'll do anything I can, of course, Lady Clavering."
"But I must tell you, that I hardly know whether I ought to ask you.I'm doing what would make Hugh very angry. But he is so unreasonable,and so cruel about Julia. He condemns her simply because, as he says,there is no smoke without fire. That is such a cruel thing to sayabout a woman;--is it not?"
Harry thought that it was a cruel thing, but as he did not wish tospeak evil of Sir Hugh before Lady Clavering, he held his tongue.
"When we got the first news by telegraph, Julia said that sheintended to come home at once. Hugh thinks that she should remainabroad for some time, and indeed I am not sure but that would bebest. At any rate he made me write to her, and advise her to stay. Hedeclared that if she came at once he would do nothing for her. Thetruth is, he does not want to have her here, for if she were again inthe house he would have to take her part, if ill-natured things weresaid."
"That's cowardly," said Harry, stoutly.
"Don't say that, Harry, till you have heard it all. If he believesthese things, he is right not to wish to meddle. He is very hard,and always believes evil. But he is not a coward. If she were here,living with him as my sister, he would take her part, whatever hemight himself think."
"But why should he think ill of his own sister-in-law? I have neverthought ill of her."
"You loved her, and he never did;--though I think he liked her too inhis way. But that's what he told me to do, and I did it. I wrote toher, advising her to remain at Florence till the warm weather comes,saying that as she could not specially wish to be in London for theseason, I thought she would be more comfortable there than here;--andthen I added that Hugh also advised her to stay. Of course I did notsay that he would not have her here,--but that was his threat."
"She is not likely to press herself where she is not wanted."
"No,--and she will not forget her rank and her money;--for that mustnow be hers. Julia can be quite as hard and as stubborn as he can.But I did write as I say, and I think that if she had got my letterbefore she had written herself, she would perhaps have stayed. Buthere is a letter from her, declaring that she will come at once. Shewill be starting almost as soon as my letter gets there, and I amsure she will not alter her purpose now."
"I don't see why she should not come if she likes it."
"Only that she might be more comfortable there. But read what shesays. You need not read the first part. Not that there is any secret;but it is about him and his last moments, and it would only painyou."
Harry longed to read the whole, but he did as he was bid, and beganthe letter at the spot which Lady Clavering marked for him with herfinger. "I have to start on the third, and as I shall stay nowhereexcept to sleep at Turin and Paris, I shall be home by the eighth;--Ithink on the evening of the eighth. I shall bring only my own maid,and one of his men who desires to come back with me. I wish to haveapartments taken for me in London. I suppose Hugh will do as much asthis for me?"
"I am quite
sure Hugh won't," said Lady Clavering, who was watchinghis eye as he read.
Harry said nothing, but went on reading. "I shall only want twositting-rooms and two bedrooms,--one for myself and one forClara,--and should like to have them somewhere near Piccadilly,--inClarges Street, or about there. You can write me a line, or send me amessage to the Hotel Bristol, at Paris. If anything fails, so that Ishould not hear, I shall go to the Palace Hotel; and, in that case,should telegraph for rooms from Paris."
"Is that all I'm to read?" Harry asked.
"You can go on and see what she says as to her reason for coming." SoHarry went on reading. "I have suffered much, and of course I knowthat I must suffer more; but I am determined that I will face theworst of it at once. It has been hinted to me that an attempt will bemade to interfere with the settlement--" "Who can have hinted that?"said Harry. Lady Clavering suspected who might have done so, but shemade no answer. "I can hardly think it possible; but, if it is done,I will not be out of the way. I have done my duty as best I could,and have done it under circumstances that I may truly say wereterrible;--and I will go on doing it. No one shall say that I amashamed to show my face and claim my own. You will be surprised whenyou see me. I have aged so much;--"
"You need not go on," said Lady Clavering. "The rest is about nothingthat signifies."
Then Harry refolded the letter and gave it back to his companion.
"Sir Hugh is gone, and therefore I could not show him that in time todo anything; but if I were to do so, he would simply do nothing, andlet her go to the hotel in London. Now that would be unkind;--wouldit not?"
"Very unkind, I think."
"It would seem so cold to her on her return."
"Very cold. Will you not go and meet her?"
Lady Clavering blushed as she answered. Though Sir Hugh was a tyrantto his wife, and known to be such, and though she knew that this wasknown, she had never said that it was so to any of the Claverings;but now she was driven to confess it. "He would not let me go, Harry.I could not go without telling him, and if I told him he would forbidit."
"And she is to be all alone in London, without any friend?"
"I shall go to her as soon as he will let me. I don't think he willforbid my going to her, perhaps after a day or two; but I know hewould not let me go on purpose to meet her."
"It does seem hard."
"But about the apartments, Harry? I thought that perhaps you wouldsee about them. After all that has passed I could not have asked you,only that now, as you are engaged yourself, it is nearly the same asthough you were married. I would ask Archibald, only then there wouldbe a fuss between Archibald and Hugh; and somehow I look on you moreas a brother-in-law than I do Archibald."
"Is Archie in London?"
"His address is at his club, but I daresay he is at North Prioryalso. At any rate, I shall say nothing to him."
"I was thinking he might have met her."
"Julia never liked him. And, indeed, I don't think she will care somuch about being met. She was always independent in that way, andwould go over the world alone better than many men. But couldn't yourun up and manage about the apartments? A woman coming home as awidow,--and in her position,--feels an hotel to be so public."
"I will see about the apartments."
"I knew you would. And there will be time for you to send to me, sothat I can write to Paris;--will there not? There is more than aweek, you know."
But Henry did not wish to go to London on this business immediately.He had made up his mind that he would not only take the rooms, butthat he would also meet Lady Ongar at the station. He said nothing ofthis to Lady Clavering, as, perhaps, she might not approve; but suchwas his intention. He was wrong no doubt. A man in such cases shoulddo what he is asked to do, and do no more. But he repeated to himselfthe excuse that Lady Clavering had made,--namely, that he was alreadythe same as a married man, and that, therefore, no harm could come ofhis courtesy to his cousin's wife's sister. But he did not wish tomake two journeys to London, nor did he desire to be away for a fullweek out of his holidays. Lady Clavering could not press him to go atonce, and, therefore, it was settled as he proposed. She would writeto Paris immediately, and he would go up to London after three orfour days. "If we only knew of any apartments, we could write," saidLady Clavering. "You could not know that they were comfortable," saidHarry; "and you will find that I will do it in plenty of time." Thenhe took his leave; but Lady Clavering had still one other word tosay to him. "You had better not say anything about all this at therectory; had you?" Harry, without considering much about it, saidthat he would not mention it.
Then he went away and walked again about the park, thinking of itall. He had not seen her since he had walked round the park, in hismisery, after parting with her in the garden. How much had happenedsince then! She had been married in her glory, had become a countess,and then a widow, and was now returning with a tarnished name, almostrepudiated by those who had been her dearest friends; but with rankand fortune at her command,--and again a free woman. He could notbut think what might have been his chance were it not for FlorenceBurton! But much had happened to him also. He had almost perishedin his misery;--so he told himself;--but had once more "tricked hisbeams,"--that was his expression to himself,--and was now "flaming inthe forehead" of a glorious love. And even if there had been no suchlove, would a widowed countess with a damaged name have suited hisambition, simply because she had the rich dower of the poor wretchto whom she had sold herself? No, indeed. There could be no questionof renewed vows between them now;--there could have been no suchquestion even had there been no "glorious love," which had accruedto him almost as his normal privilege in right of his pupilage in Mr.Burton's office. No;--there could be, there could have been, nothingnow between him and the widowed Countess of Ongar. But, nevertheless,he liked the idea of meeting her in London. He felt some triumph inthe thought that he should be the first to touch her hand on herreturn after all that she had suffered. He would be very courteous toher, and would spare no trouble that would give her any ease. As forher rooms, he would see to everything of which he could think thatmight add to her comfort; and a wish crept upon him, uninvited, thatshe might be conscious of what he had done for her.
Would she be aware, he wondered, that he was engaged? Lady Claveringhad known it for the last three months, and would probably havementioned the circumstance in a letter. But perhaps not. The sisters,he knew, had not been good correspondents; and he almost wished thatshe might not know it. "I should not care to be talking to her aboutFlorence," he said to himself.
It was very strange that they should come to meet in such a way,after all that had passed between them in former days. Would it occurto her that he was the only man she had ever loved?--for, of course,as he well knew, she had never loved her husband. Or would she now betoo callous to everything but the outer world to think at all of sucha subject? She had said that she was aged, and he could well believeit. Then he pictured her to himself in her weeds, worn, sad, thin,but still proud and handsome. He had told Florence of his early lovefor the woman whom Lord Ongar had married, and had described withrapture his joy that that early passion had come to nothing. Now hewould have to tell Florence of this meeting; and he thought of thecomparison he would make between her bright young charms and theshipwrecked beauty of the widow. On the whole, he was proud that hehad been selected for the commission, as he liked to think of himselfas one to whom things happened which were out of the ordinary course.His only objection to Florence was that she had come to him so muchin the ordinary course.
"I suppose the truth is you are tired of our dulness," said hisfather to him, when he declared his purpose of going up to London,and, in answer to certain questions that were asked him, hadhesitated to tell his business.
"Indeed, it is not so," said Harry, earnestly; "but I have acommission to execute for a certain person, and I cannot explain whatit is."
"Another secret;--eh, Harry?"
"I am very sorry,--but it is a secret. It
is not one of my ownseeking; that is all I can say." His mother and sisters also askedhim a question or two; but when he became mysterious, they did notpersevere. "Of course it is something about Florence," said Fanny."I'll be bound he is going to meet her. What will you bet me, Harry,you don't go to the play with Florence before you come home?" To thisHenry deigned no answer; and after that no more questions were asked.
He went up to London and took rooms in Bolton Street. Therewas a pretty fresh-looking light drawing-room, or, indeed, twodrawing-rooms, and a small dining-room, and a large bed-room lookingover upon the trees of some great nobleman's garden. As Harry stoodat the window it seemed so odd to him that he should be there. And hewas busy about everything in the chamber, seeing that all things wereclean and well ordered. Was the woman of the house sure of her cook?Sure; of course she was sure. Had not old Lady Dimdaff lived therefor two years, and nobody ever was so particular about her victualsas Lady Dimdaff. "And would Lady Ongar keep her own carriage?" As tothis Harry could say nothing. Then came the question of price, andHarry found his commission very difficult. The sum asked seemed tobe enormous. "Seven guineas a week at that time of the year!" LadyDimdaff had always paid seven guineas. "But that was in the season,"suggested Harry. To this the woman replied that it was the seasonnow. Harry felt that he did not like to drive a bargain for theCountess, who would probably care very little what she paid, andtherefore assented. But a guinea a day for lodgings did seem a greatdeal of money. He was prepared to marry and commence housekeepingupon a less sum for all his expenses. However, he had done hiscommission, had written to Lady Clavering, and had telegraphed toParis. He had almost brought himself to write to Lady Ongar, but whenthe moment came he abstained. He had sent the telegram as from H.Clavering. She might think that it came from Hugh if she pleased.
He was unable not to attend specially to his dress when he went tomeet her at the Victoria Station. He told himself that he was anass,--but still he went on being an ass. During the whole afternoonhe could do nothing but think of what he had in hand. He was to tellFlorence everything, but had Florence known the actual state of hismind, I doubt whether she would have been satisfied with him. Thetrain was due at 8 P.M. He dined at the Oxford and Cambridge Club atsix, and then went to his lodgings to take one last look at his outerman. The evening was very fine, but he went down to the station in acab, because he would not meet Lady Ongar in soiled boots. He toldhimself again that he was an ass; and then tried to console himselfby thinking that such an occasion as this seldom happened once to anyman,--could hardly happen more than once to any man. He had hireda carriage for her, not thinking it fit that Lady Ongar should betaken to her new home in a cab; and when he was at the station, halfan hour before the proper time, was very fidgety because it had notcome. Ten minutes before eight he might have been seen standing atthe entrance to the station looking out anxiously for the vehicle.The man was there, of course, in time, but Harry made himself angrybecause he could not get the carriage so placed that Lady Ongar mightbe sure of stepping into it without leaving the platform. Punctuallyto the moment the coming train announced itself by its whistle, andHarry Clavering felt himself to be in a flutter.
The train came up along the platform, and Harry stood there expectingto see Julia Brabazon's head projected from the first window thatcaught his eye. It was of Julia Brabazon's head, and not of LadyOngar's, that he was thinking. But he saw no sign of her presencewhile the carriages were coming to a stand-still, and the platformwas covered with passengers before he discovered her whom he wasseeking. At last he encountered in the crowd a man in livery, andfound from him that he was Lady Ongar's servant. "I have come to meetLady Ongar," said Harry, "and have got a carriage for her." Then theservant found his mistress, and Harry offered his hand to a tallwoman in black. She wore a black straw hat with a veil, but the veilwas so thick that Harry could not at all see her face.
"Is that Mr. Clavering?" said she.
"Yes," said Harry, "it is I. Your sister asked me to take rooms foryou, and as I was in town I thought I might as well meet you to seeif you wanted anything. Can I get the luggage?"
"Thank you;--the man will do that. He knows where the things are."
"I ordered a carriage;--shall I show him where it is? Perhaps youwill let me take you to it? They are so stupid here. They would notlet me bring it up."
"It will do very well I'm sure. It's very kind of you. The rooms arein Bolton Street. I have the number here. Oh! thank you." But shewould not take his arm. So he led the way, and stood at the doorwhile she got into the carriage with her maid. "I'd better show theman where you are now." This he did, and afterwards shook hands withher through the carriage window. This was all he saw of her, and thewords which have been repeated were all that were spoken. Of her facehe had not caught a glimpse.
As he went home to his lodgings he was conscious that the interviewhad not been satisfactory. He could not say what more he wanted, buthe felt that there was something amiss. He consoled himself, however,by reminding himself that Florence Burton was the girl whom he hadreally loved, and not Julia Brabazon. Lady Ongar had given him noinvitation to come and see her, and therefore he determined that hewould return home on the following day without going near BoltonStreet. He had pictured to himself beforehand the sort of descriptionhe would give to Lady Clavering of her sister; but, seeing how thingshad turned out, he made up his mind that he would say nothing of themeeting. Indeed, he would not go up to the great house at all. He haddone Lady Clavering's commission,--at some little trouble and expenseto himself, and there should be an end of it. Lady Ongar would notmention that she had seen him. He doubted, indeed, whether she wouldremember whom she had seen. For any good that he had done, or forany sentiment that there had been, his cousin Hugh's butler might aswell have gone to the train. In this mood he returned home, consolinghimself with the fitness of things which had given him FlorenceBurton instead of Julia Brabazon for a wife.