CHAPTER XV
A FAMILY CATASTROPHE
I am bound to say that Flossie's brothers and sisters (and Sarah)received the news of her approaching departure from her father's roofwith unmixed feelings. Not a drop of sorrow was there to mar the cup ofjoy which the occasion presented to every one. Not a regret at theblank her going would cause leavened the general satisfaction at herhappiness. And Flossie herself was the least sorrowful, the leastregretful, and the most satisfied of all.
Like May, she was marrying well--that is to say, she was marrying money.But, unlike May's husband, who was old, her future lord and master wasyoung--only five years older than herself. It is true he was not muchto look at; but then, as Mrs. Stubbs remarked to her husband, that wasFlossie's business. It was equally true that he was reputed to be ayoung scamp, with an atrocious temper; but then, as Tom said, that wasFlossie's look-out, and decidedly Flossie was not without littlefailings of that kind--though why, if one bad-tempered person decidesupon marrying another bad-tempered person, it is generally considered bythe world to be all right, because the one is as bad to get on with asthe other, it would be hard to say; perhaps it is on the principle oftwo negatives making an affirmative, or in the belief that two wrongswill make eventually a right; I cannot say. But, odd as it is, that isthe very general opinion.
The engagement was an unusually short one. Indeed, the bride had barelytime to get her things ready by the day, and a great part of hertrousseau was not able to be ready before her return from her honeymoon.But still they never seemed to think of putting off the wedding for asingle day, although it was fixed to take place just six weeks from theday of the ball, when the engagement had begun.
It seemed to Sarah, well used as she had become to seeing liberalexpenditure, that at this time the entire family seemed to be spendingmoney like water! May's wedding had been a very grand one, butFlossie's outshone it in every way--in the number of the bridesmaids, inthe number of the guests, in the number of the carriages, and theservants, and the flowers, in the splendour of the presents and thedresses of the trousseau, nay, in the very length of the bride's train.
The presents were gorgeous! Mr. Stubbs gave his daughter a gold-mounteddressing-case and a cheque for a thousand pounds; Mrs. Stubbs gave adiamond star, and May a necklace of such magnificence that even Flossiewas astounded when she saw it.
So Flossie became Mrs. Jones, and passed away from her old home; andwhen it was all over, and the tokens of the great feast and merry-makinghad been cleared away, the household for a few days settled down intocomparative quietude.
Only for a few days, however. With the exception of Sarah, who was toodeeply engrossed in her work to care much for passing pleasures, theentire family seemed to have caught a fever of restlessness and love ofexcitement. After ten days the bride and bridegroom returned, and therewere great parties to welcome them. Every day there seemed some reasonwhy they should launch out a little further, and yet a little further,and instead of the family being less expensive now that two daughterswere married, the general expenditure was far more lavish than it hadever been before. They had a second man-servant and another maid, andthen they found that it was impossible to get on any longer without asecond "broom" horse for night-work.
They did, indeed, begin to talk about leaving Jesamond Road, and goinginto a larger house. The boys--Tom was just seventeen, and Johnnie onlyfifteen--wanted a billiard-room, and Minnie wanted a boudoir, and Mr.Stubbs wanted a larger study, and Mrs. Stubbs wanted a double hall. Thatchange, however, was never made, although Mrs. Stubbs and Minnie hadseen and set their hearts upon a mansion in Earl's Court at a modestrental of five hundred a year, which they thought quite a reasonablerent--for one awful night the senior clerk came tearing up to the doorin a cab, with the horse all in a lather and his own face like chalk,and asked for the master.
And asked for the master.]
The master and mistress were just going out to a great dinner-party atthe house of Mrs. Giath, their eldest daughter, in Palace Gardens, butMr. Stubbs came down and saw him in the study. They were shut up theretogether for some time, until Mrs. Stubbs grew impatient, and knockedseveral times at the door, with a reminder that they would be very late,and that May would not like to be kept waiting. And at last Mr. Stubbsopened the door and came out.
"Get my coat, James," he said to the servant; then, as he buttoned it,added, "Mr. Senior will have a glass of wine and a biscuit before hegoes. Good-night, Senior. See you in the morning."
"Lor, Pa!" exclaimed Mrs. Stubbs, as they rolled away from the door, "Ithought something was the matter."
"No, my dear, only some important business Senior thought I ought toknow about," he answered; and Mr. Stubbs that evening was the very lightand life of his daughter's party.
But in the morning the crash came! Not that he was there to see it,though; for just as they reached home again, and he passed into his ownhouse, Mr. Stubbs reeled and fell to the ground in all the hideousnessof a severe paralytic seizure.
Nor did he ever, even partially, recover his senses; before the day wasdone he had gone out of the sea of trouble which overwhelmed him, toanswer for his doings before a high and just tribunal, which, let ushope, would give him a more merciful judgment than he would have foundin this world.
Mrs. Stubbs was broken-hearted and inconsolable. "If he had only beenspared for a bit," she sobbed to her married daughters, who came to herin her trouble; "but to be taken sudden like that! oh, it is 'ard--itis 'ard."
"Poor Pa," murmured May; "he was so active, he couldn't have borne to beill and helpless, as he would have been if he'd lived. I wouldn't fretso, if I were you, Ma, dear, I really wouldn't."
"There's nothing dishonourable," Mrs. Stubbs sobbed; "all's gone, butyour poor Pa's good name's 'ere still. I do thank 'eaven for that--yes,I do."
"H'm! If Pa'd been half sharp," Flossie remarked, "he'd have taken carethere was something left."
"He's left his good name and his good deeds behind him--that's betterthan mere money," said Sarah softly, holding her aunt's hand verytightly in both of hers.
"Oh, well, as to that, Sarah," said Flossie, "of course it isn't likely_you'll_ blame Pa for being so lavish as he was; dressed just the sameas us, and expensive violin lessons twice a week, and all that."
Mrs. Stubbs and May both cried out upon Flossie for her words.
"Cruel, cruel!" Mrs. Stubbs exclaimed; "when you've had every lux'ry youcould wish, to blame your poor Pa for his charity before he's laid inhis grave. I'm ashamed of you, Flossie, I am!" And then she hid herface on Sarah's slim young shoulder, and broke into bitter sobs andtears.