A Civil Contract

  ‘Did it?’ said Adam, regarding him with a fascinated eye. ‘I can’t think why it should, but – but pray continue, sir!’

  ‘Ay, it did,’ nodded Mr Chawleigh. ‘Not that I’d ever clapped eyes on you myself, but I’ve always had a strong notion that my Jenny liked you better than any of the sprigs of fashion she was acquainted with.’

  Startled, Adam said: ‘But have I ever met – ?’ He stopped, realizing, too late, the infelicity of this involuntary exclamation.

  Mr Chawleigh, to his considerable relief, was unoffended. ‘Ay, you’ve met her,’ he replied indulgently. ‘Often, you’ve met her, but it don’t surprise me that you shouldn’t call her to mind, for that’s how it always is: she lets the other girls shine her down. She’s no gabster, but when you were in town last year, worn to a bone with what was being done to you by a pack of surgeons, as they call themselves, though to my way of thinking butchers would be nearer the mark, and not one of ’em will I have lay a finger on me, for I’d as lief be put to bed with a shovel and be done with it – well, when you were hobbling about, as blue as megrim,’ said Mr Chawleigh, unexpectedly picking up the main thread of his argument, ‘she used to speak of you now and now: nothing much, you know, but enough to make me prick up my ears. Seems you weren’t so taken up with Miss Julia but what you could find the time to behave civil to Jenny.’

  A vague memory of having on several occasions found a strange female visiting Julia flickered in Adam’s mind, but as he was quite unable to remember what she had looked like, or what he could conceivably have done to earn her approval, he prudently refrained from any pretended recognition. Mr Chawleigh might be discursive, but no one encountering his shrewd eyes could suppose him to be one whom it would be easy to deceive.

  ‘Well, there it is!’ said Mr Chawleigh. ‘I don’t know that there’s much more I’ve got to say at this present, except that I’m not looking for an answer until you’ve had time to turn it over in your mind, my lord.’

  Adam got up. ‘You are very obliging, sir, but –’

  ‘Nay, think it over before you commit yourself!’ interrupted Mr Chawleigh. ‘Acting hasty is bad business, take my word for it! There’s no saying, after all, that my Jenny would be any more willing than you are. You sleep on it! Ay, and have a talk with his lordship, or your man of business. You want to be sure you’re not being bobbed, and you’ve only got my word for it that I’m a man of substance.’

  ‘I am quite sure you are all you say you are, sir, but, indeed –’

  ‘Well, so you may be, but it’s only reasonable you should want to make a few enquiries. You won’t catch Jonathan Chawleigh buying a pig in a poke, and do as you’d be done by is my motto. If you’re satisfied, which you will be, my idea is you should do us the honour of taking your pot-luck with us in Russell Square one evening, and get acquainted with Jenny. There’ll be no company: just me, and Jenny, and Mrs Quarley-Bix. She’s the good lady I hired to bear Jenny company, and take her into society. And why I call her a good lady I don’t know, for to my mind she’s no great thing. In fact, there are times when I think that I was regularly taken in over her,’ said Mr Chawleigh darkly. ‘It wouldn’t surprise me if I was to discover that she was no more related to these Quarleys of hers than what I am. Or if she is, she’s one of the dirty dishes you get in the best of families, according to what his lordship tells me, and which they don’t own by more than a common bow in passing. I don’t say she hasn’t got an air of fashion, but what I do say is that you’ve only to set her up beside my Lady Oversley to see she ain’t up to the rig. What’s more, the only time I went out driving in the Park with her and Jenny, there was a lot of bowing, and simpering, and waggling of hands, but nobody came up to speak to her. Though that,’ he added fairly, ‘might have been because I was in the barouche, and no one would take me for a man of mode, not if I was to dress myself up to the nines they wouldn’t! Well, well, I’ll be mighty interested to know what you think, my lord, for you’re one as is up to the rig – bang-up to it, as I saw at a glance! Mind, that’s assuming Jenny’s agreeable! I haven’t spoken to her yet, but I will.’

  Adam, feeling much like a man caught in a tidal wave, made a desperate attempt to battle against an irresistible force. ‘Mr Chawleigh, I beg you most earnestly to do no such thing! I am fully sensible – I assure you I appreciate –’

  He was once more checked by that large, upflung hand. ‘You think it over!’ recommended Mr Chawleigh kindly. ‘If you don’t like the notion, when you’ve slept on it, I’ll have no more to say, and so I promise you! But think it over carefully! I know you’re all to pieces, and trying to bring yourself off honourably, and I think the better of you for it. But if you was to make my Jenny a ladyship – and treat her right into the bargain, which I’m pretty sure you would do, and you’d have me to reckon with if you didn’t – there’d be no more worriting about debts or mortgages: that you can depend on! You could hang it up to any tune you please – and there’s my hand on it!’

  He held it out as he spoke, saying, as Adam, in a sort of trance, put his own into it: ‘I’ll bid you good-day now, and that’s my last word for the present!’

  Four

  Adam was left to recover from the effects of this shattering visit, which he soon did, passing from revulsion to amusement, and presently banishing the interlude from his mind. It recurred when he sat down to finish his interrupted letter to his sister, and with it the echo of her voice, saying: ‘One ought to be ready to make sacrifices for one’s family, I think.’ She was certainly ready to do so, but she was too young to know what it meant, and she had not yet been in love. He smiled, recalling the naïve plan she had made for his relief; but the smile was not a happy one, and it soon faded. He wondered what her ultimate fate would be, and tried to picture her living with Lady Lynton in Bath. Not such a dreadful prospect, it might have been thought; but he found himself looking forward to it with misgiving, and thought that besides securing a part at least of her dowry from the wreck of his fortunes he must contrive to provide her with an allowance, for he could not doubt that whatever economies were practised by Lady Lynton would be at Lydia’s expense. On the only occasion when he had ventured to suggest various ways of retrenchment to her, such as the substitution of a more modest maid for her staggeringly expensive dresser, she had put him utterly to rout by replying that she had considered this expedient, but that when she had asked herself if Poor Papa would have wished her to make this dismal change she had received an unequivocal answer: he would not have wished it at all.

  ‘And you can’t argue about that,’ had observed Lydia, ‘because it’s true! He would merely have said: “Pooh! Non-sense!”’

  One of the economies which Adam feared his mother might practise was in the matter of Lydia’s coming-out. Lady Lynton’s disposition was not social; she had never enjoyed large parties; and it seemed probable that she would make penury an excuse for neglecting this part of her maternal duties. The thought just flickered in Adam’s mind that if he were himself married, and in affluent circumstances, his wife would be able to launch Lydia into society.

  The thought vanished; he dipped his dry pen in the ink-well, and ended his letter to Lydia rather abruptly, not regaling her, as he had intended, with an account of his interview with Mr Chawleigh.

  The afternoon was disagreeably enlivened by a note sent round by hand from Wimmering’s place of business. That harassed practitioner had received a disturbing communication disclosing yet another obligation incurred by the late Lord Lynton. He very much feared that it would have to be met. No documents relating to the transaction were in his possession; he wrote in haste to enquire whether the present Viscount had discovered any relevant matter amongst his father’s private papers.

  Adam, realizing that persons committing suicide were not necessarily insane, set about the task of sifting, yet again, the mass of his volatile parent’s papers.

  He was engaged on this labour when he received a visit from Lord Oversley.
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  ‘I have only a few minutes to spare,’ Oversley said, grasping his hand, ‘but I felt I ought to make a push to see you, in case you should act hastily, before I’d had a chance to represent to you – You’ve seen Chawleigh, I know: he came to call on me directly afterwards. He’s taken a fancy to you: I thought he might.’

  ‘Much obliged to him!’ returned Adam. ‘I would I could return the compliment!’

  ‘Ah!’ said his lordship. ‘That’s what I was afraid of. Just as well I decided to snatch a moment to see you!’

  ‘Good God!’ exclaimed Adam. ‘You can’t have supposed – you of all people! – that there was the least chance I should – Why, it’s unthinkable!’

  ‘Then I don’t scruple to tell you, Adam, that you’re not the man I took you for!’ said his lordship. ‘I’ll also tell you that if you whistle down the wind the best chance you’ll ever have offered you to save Fontley, provide for your sisters, and bring yourself off clear of debt, I shall think so much the worse of you that I shall be glad, instead of sorry, that you’re not my son-in-law!’ He saw Adam stiffen, and said in a milder tone: ‘I know it’s a mighty hard thing to do, and not the match anyone would have chosen for you, but the ugly truth is, boy, that you’re in the devil’s own mess! I say in all sincerity that you owe it to your name to seize any honourable chance that offers of bringing yourself about.’

  ‘Honourable?’ Adam ejaculated. ‘Selling myself to a wealthy Cit’s daughter? Oh, no! Not myself: my title!’

  ‘Pooh! No need for any Cheltenham tragedies! It’s a fair bargain, and one that’s being struck more often than you know. Yes, yes, you have formed what you believe to be a lasting passion for Julia! Lord, if we were all to marry our first loves what a plague of ill-assorted marriages there would be! Put her out of your mind! You may believe me when I tell you that she’s no more fitted to be the wife of a marching officer than –’

  ‘This is unnecessary, sir!’ Adam interposed. ‘If I haven’t been able to put her out of my mind, you may rest assured that there’s no thought of marriage to her there, or to anyone!’

  ‘Now, listen, Adam!’ begged Oversley. ‘If you’re thinking that Miss Chawleigh is like her father, she’s not! She’s not a beauty, but she always seemed to me an agreeable, well-behaved girl. I see no reason why she shouldn’t make you an amiable wife. She’s a little shy, to be sure, but perfectly sensible, and will give you no cause to blush for her manners. As for Chawleigh, I don’t think he’ll embarrass you. He’s not encroaching. Yes, I know he has a bee in his brain where his daughter’s concerned, but he don’t himself wish to be admitted into the ton. You might not believe it, but he’s never been across my threshold till today. I’m under a considerable obligation to him, and I did think I might be regularly in for it, but not a bit of it! All he wanted me to do was to put Jenny in the way of meeting what he calls the nobs! Refused the only invitation I ever sent him to dine in Mount Street: told me he’d be happy to dine with me in the City, but wouldn’t come to my house. There’s much in him that I like – and there is no one whose credit stands higher in the City!’

  ‘I’m sure he’s a very respectable person,’ said Adam, ‘but I have no desire to marry his daughter.’

  ‘Come out of the clouds, Adam!’ said Oversley sternly. ‘They say – and I believe it! – that he’s one of the richest men in the country, and that girl of his will inherit his whole fortune! He has a name for driving devilish hard bargains, but he’s not a screw, and the more he spends on his Jenny the better pleased he seems to be. Marry her, and you will live as high as a coach-horse for the rest of your life! You will not only be able to hold Fontley: you will be able to bring it back to what it was in your grandfather’s day.’ He laid his hand on Adam’s shoulder, gripping it. ‘Listen to me, you young fool! You’ve no right to refuse the only chance offered you to restore what your father squandered! If you could do the thing by your own exertion I wouldn’t urge you to this marriage, but you can’t. You talk of rejoining your Regiment, and for anything I know you might achieve the highest rank. But once Fontley has passed out of your hands you will never win it back again. You think that over, boy, and remember that you’re the head of your house, and have the power to prevent its falling down – if you choose to exert it!’ His grip tightened. ‘Don’t make a piece of work over it!’ he said, with rough kindness. ‘It’s a fair bargain: no need to feel you’re offering false coin! The girl knows you’re not in love with her. As for the rest – I wish with all my heart you might have had time to recover before this came upon you, but, believe me, Adam, you will recover! Now, that’s all I have to say. Good God, look at the time! I must be off!’

  A quick handshake, and he was gone, distressed by the drawn look in Adam’s face, but not (as he later informed his lady) unhopeful of the issue.

  And on the following day, after passing a sleepless night, Adam wrote to accept Mr Chawleigh’s invitation. Two days later still he set out in a hackney-coach, to take his pot-luck in Russell Square.

  He had been bidden for six o’clock, and warned that the occasion was to be informal, but although he had at first supposed this to mean that morning-dress would be worn, a doubt later shook him, and resulted in his assuming the long-tailed coat, white waistcoat, black pantaloons, and silk stockings which constituted correct evening attire. Possibly he would find himself overdressed, but to be underdressed, he suspected, might be taken as a slight.

  It took some time to reach Russell Square, which was of recent date, built on the site of Bedford House, when this ducal mansion had been demolished fourteen years previously. Adam retained a dim memory of having been taken to Bedford House, as a child, but as the hack proceeded on its slow way over the cobbles it seemed to him, in the oppression of his spirits, that he was being carried beyond the realms of gentility. However, when he at last reached his destination he was agreeably surprised by the size and style of the square. It covered a very large area, and was almost surrounded by brick houses which were sufficiently imposing to enable house-agents to advertise them as Desirable Mansions. In the centre was a railed garden, with several trees, shrubberies, and an enormous statue of a man leaning on a plough.

  Having paid off the hack, Adam trod up the shallow steps to Mr Chawleigh’s front door. It was flung open before he had had time to do more than lift his hand to the massive brass knocker, and he was bowed into the house by what at first glance appeared to him to be a platoon of footmen. There were, in fact, four of them, besides a butler, far more stately than his own at Fontley, who conducted him up the crimson-carpeted stairway to the drawing-room on the first floor, and sonorously announced him.