CHAPTER II.
MRS. RODEN'S ELOQUENCE.
On Sunday Hampstead was nervous and fidgety. He had at one timethought that it would be the very day for him to go to Holloway. Hewould be sure to find Mrs. Roden at home after church, and then, ifhe could carry things to the necessary length, he might also seeZachary Fay. But on consideration it appeared to him that Sundaywould not suit his purpose. George Roden would be there, and would besadly in the way. And the Quaker himself would be in the way, as itwould be necessary that he should have some preliminary interviewwith Marion before anything could be serviceably said to her father.He was driven, therefore, to postpone his visit. Nor would Monday do,as he knew enough of the manners of Paradise Row to be aware that onMonday Mrs. Vincent would certainly be there. It would be his object,if things could be made to go pleasantly, first to see Mrs. Rodenfor a few minutes, and then to spend as much of the afternoon asmight be possible with Marion Fay. He therefore fixed on the Tuesdayfor his purpose, and having telegraphed about the country for hishorses, groom, and other appurtenances, he went down to Leightonon the Monday, and consoled himself with a day's hunting with thestaghounds.
On his return his sister spoke to him very seriously as to her ownaffairs. "Is not this almost silly, John, about Mr. Roden not cominghere?"
"Not silly at all, according to my ideas."
"All the world knows that we are engaged. The very servants haveheard of it. That horrid young man who came from the Post Office wasaware of it."
"What has all that to do with it?"
"If it has been made public in that way, what can be the object ofkeeping us apart? Mamma no doubt told her sister, and Lady Persiflagehas published it everywhere. Her daughter is going to marry a duke,and it has crowned her triumph to let it be known that I am goingto marry only a Post Office clerk. I don't begrudge her that in theleast. But as they have talked about it so much, they ought, at anyrate, to let me have my Post Office clerk."
"I have nothing to say about it one way or the other," saidHampstead. "I say nothing about it, at any rate now."
"What do you mean by that, John?"
"When I saw how miserable you were at Trafford I did my best to bringyou away. But I could only bring you here on an express stipulationthat you should not meet George Roden while you were in my house. Ifyou can get my father's consent to your meeting him, then that partof the contract will be over."
"I don't think I made any promise."
"I understand it so."
"I said nothing to papa on the subject,--and I do not remember that Imade any promise to you. I am sure I did not."
"I promised for you." To this she was silent. "Are you going to askhim to come here?"
"Certainly not. But if he did come, how could I refuse to see him?I thought that he was here on Saturday, and I told Richard to admithim. I could not send him away from the door."
"I do not think he will come unless he is asked," said Hampstead.Then the conversation was over.
On the following day, at two o'clock, Lord Hampstead again startedfor Holloway. On this occasion he drove over, and left his trapand servant at the "Duchess of Edinburgh." He was so well known inthe neighbourhood now as hardly to be able to hope to enter on thedomains of Paradise Row without being recognized. He felt that it washard that his motions should be watched, telling himself that it wasone of the evils belonging to an hereditary nobility; but he mustaccept this mischief as he did others, and he walked up the streettrying to look as though he didn't know that his motions were beingwatched first from Number Fifteen as he passed it, and then fromNumber Ten opposite, as he stood at Mrs. Roden's door.
Mrs. Roden was at home, and received him, of course, with her mostgracious smile; but her heart sank within her as she saw him, for shefelt sure that he had come in pursuit of Marion Fay. "It is very kindof you to call," she said. "I had heard from George that you had gonedown into the country since we had the pleasure of dining with you."
"Yes; my father has been unwell, and I had to stay with him a fewdays or I should have been here sooner. You got home all of you quitewell?"
"Oh, yes."
"Miss Fay did not catch cold?"
"Not at all;--though I fear she is hardly strong."
"She is not ill, I hope?"
"Oh, no; not that. But she lives here very quietly, and I doubtwhether the excitement of going out is good for her."
"There was not much excitement at Hendon Hall, I think," he said,laughing.
"Not for you, but for her perhaps. In appreciating our own conditionwe are so apt to forget what is the condition of others! To MarionFay it was a strange event to have to dine at your house,--andstrange also to receive little courtesies such as yours. It is hardfor you to conceive how strongly the nature of such a girl may beeffected by novelties. I have almost regretted, Lord Hampstead, thatI should have consented to take her there."
"Has she said anything?"
"Oh, no; there was nothing for her to say. You are not to supposethat any harm has been done."
"What harm could have been done?" he asked. Of what nature was theharm of which Mrs. Roden was speaking? Could it be that Marion hadmade any sign of altered feelings; had declared in any way her likingor disliking; had given outward testimony of thoughts which wouldhave been pleasant to him,--or perhaps unpleasant,--had he knownthem?
"No harm, of course," said Mrs. Roden;--"only to a nature such ashers all excitement is evil."
"I cannot believe that," he said, after a pause. "Now and then in thelives of all of us there must come moments of excitement which cannotbe all evil. What would Marion say if I were to tell her that I lovedher?"
"I hope you will not do that, my lord."
"Why should you hope so? What right have you to hope so? If I do loveher, is it not proper that I should tell her?"
"But it would not be proper that you should love her."
"There, Mrs. Roden, I take the liberty of declaring that youare altogether in the wrong, and that you speak without dueconsideration."
"Do I, my lord?"
"I think so. Why am I not to be allowed the ordinary privilege of aman,--that of declaring my passion to a woman when I meet one whoseems in all things to fulfil the image of perfection which I haveformed for myself,--when I see a girl that I fancy I can love?"
"Ah, there is the worst! It is only a fancy."
"I will not be accused in that way without defending myself. Let itbe fancy or what not, I love Marion Fay, and I have come here to tellher so. If I can make any impression on her I shall come again andtell her father so. I am here now because I think that you can helpme. If you will not, I shall go on without your help."
"What can I do?"
"Go to her with me now, at once. You say that excitement is bad forher. The excitement will be less if you will come with me to herhouse."
Then there was a long pause in the conversation, during which Mrs.Roden was endeavouring to determine what might be her duty at thismoment. She certainly did not think that it would be well that LordHampstead, the eldest son of the Marquis of Kingsbury, should marryMarion Fay. She was quite sure that she had all the world with herthere. Were any one to know that she had assisted in arranging sucha marriage, that any one would certainly condemn her. That wouldassuredly be the case, not only with the young lord's family, notonly with others of the young lord's order, but with all the educatedworld of Great Britain. How could it be that such a one as MarionFay should be a fitting wife for such a one as Lord Hampstead?Marion Fay had undoubtedly great gifts of her own. She was beautiful,intelligent, sweet-minded, and possessed of natural delicacy,--somuch so that to Mrs. Roden herself she had become as dear almost asa daughter; but it was impossible that she should have either theeducation or the manners fit for the wife of a great English peer.Though her manners might be good and her education excellent, theywere not those required for that special position. And then there wascause for other fears. Marion's mother and brothers and sisters hadall died young. The girl
herself had hitherto seemed to escape thescourge under which they perished. But occasionally there would riseto her cheeks a bright colour, which for the moment would cause Mrs.Roden's heart to sink within her. Occasionally there would be heardfrom her not a cough, but that little preparation for coughing whichhas become so painfully familiar to the ears of those whose fateit has been to see their beloved ones gradually fade from presumedhealth. She had already found herself constrained to say a word ortwo to the old Quaker, not telling him that she feared any comingevil, but hinting that change of air would certainly be beneficialto such a one as Marion. Acting under this impulse, he had taken herduring the inclemency of the past spring to the Isle of Wight. Shewas minded gradually to go on with this counsel, so as if possibleto induce the father to send his girl out of London for someconsiderable portion of the year. If this were so, how could shepossibly encourage Lord Hampstead in his desire to make Marion hiswife?
And then, as to the girl herself, could it be for her happiness thatshe should be thus lifted into a strange world, a world that wouldbe hard and ungracious to her, and in which it might be only tooprobable that the young lord should see her defects when it would betoo late for either of them to remedy the evil that had been done?She had thought something of all this before, having recognized thepossibility of such a step as this after what she had seen at HendonHall. She had told herself that it would be well at any rate todiscourage any such idea in Marion's heart, and had spoken jokinglyof the gallantry of men of rank. Marion had smiled sweetly as shehad listened to her friend's words, and had at once said that suchmanners were at any rate pretty and becoming in one so placed as LordHampstead. There had been something in this to make Mrs. Roden almostfear that her words had been taken as intending too much,--thatMarion had accepted them as a caution against danger. Not forworlds would she have induced the girl to think that any danger wasapprehended. But now the danger had come, and it behoved Mrs. Rodenif possible to prevent the evil. "Will you come across with me now?"said Hampstead, having sat silent in his chair while these thoughtswere passing through the lady's mind.
"I think not, my lord."
"Why not, Mrs. Roden? Will it not be better than that I should goalone?"
"I hope you will not go at all."
"I shall go,--certainly. I consider myself bound by all laws ofhonesty to tell her what she has done to me. She can then judge whatmay be best for herself."
"Do not go at any rate to-day, Lord Hampstead. Let me beg at least asmuch as that of you. Consider the importance of the step you will betaking."
"I have thought of it," said he.
"Marion is as good as gold."
"I know she is."
"Marion, I say, is as good as gold; but is it likely that any girlshould remain untouched and undazzled by such an offer as you canmake her?"
"Touched I hope she may be. As for dazzled,--I do not believe in itin the least. There are eyes which no false lights can dazzle."
"But if she were touched, as would no doubt be the case," said Mrs.Roden, "could it be well that you with such duties before you shouldmarry the daughter of Zachary Fay? Listen to me a moment," shecontinued, as he attempted to interrupt her. "I know what you wouldsay, and I sympathize with much of it; but it cannot be well forsociety that classes should be mixed together suddenly and roughly."
"What roughness would there be?" he asked.
"As lords and ladies are at present, as dukes are, and duchesses, andsuch like, there would be a roughness to them in having Marion Faypresented to them as one of themselves. Lords have married low-borngirls, I know, and the wives have been contented with a positionwhich has almost been denied to them, or only grudgingly accorded. Ihave known something of that, my lord, and have felt--at any rate Ihave seen--its bitterness. Marion Fay would fade and sink to nothingif she were subjected to such contumely. To be Marion Fay is enoughfor her. To be your wife, and not to be thought fit to be your wife,would not be half enough."
"She shall be thought fit."
"You can make her Lady Hampstead, and demand that she shall bereceived at Court. You can deck her with diamonds, and cause her tobe seated high in honour according to your own rank. But could youinduce your father's wife to smile on her?" In answer to this he wasdumb. "Do you think she would be contented if your father's wife wereto frown on her?"
"My father's wife is not everybody."
"She would necessarily be much to your wife. Take a week, my lord, ora month, and think upon it. She expects nothing from you yet, and itis still in your power to save her from unhappiness."
"I would make her happy, Mrs. Roden."
"Think about it;--think about it."
"And I would make myself happy also. You count my feelings as beingnothing in the matter."
"Nothing as compared with hers. You see how plainly I deal with you.Let me say that for a time your heart will be sore;--that you do intruth love this girl so as to feel that she is necessary to yourhappiness. Do you not know that if she were placed beyond your reachyou would recover from that sting? The duties of the world wouldstill be open to you. Being a man, you would still have before youmany years for recovery before your youth had departed from you. Ofcourse you would find some other woman, and be happy with her. Forher, if she came to shipwreck in this venture, there would be noother chance."
"I would make this chance enough for her."
"So you think; but if you will look abroad you will see that theperils to her happiness which I have attempted to describe are notvain. I can say no more, my lord, but can only beg that you will takesome little time to think of it before you put the thing out of yourown reach. If she had once accepted your love I know that you wouldnever go back."
"Never."
"Therefore think again while there is time." He slowly draggedhimself up from his chair, and left her almost without a word atparting. She had persuaded him--to take another week. It was not thathe doubted in the least his own purpose, but he did not know how togainsay her as to this small request. In that frame of mind which iscommon to young men when they do not get all that they want, angry,disappointed, and foiled, he went down-stairs, and opened the frontdoor,--and there on the very steps he met Marion Fay.
"Marion," he said, pouring all the tenderness of his heart into hisvoice.
"My lord?"
"Come in, Marion,--for one moment." Then she followed him into thelittle passage, and there they stood. "I had come over to ask you howyou are after our little party."
"I am quite well;--and you?"
"I have been away with my father, or I should have come sooner."
"Nay;--it was not necessary that you should trouble yourself."
"It is necessary;--it is necessary; or I should be troubled verymuch. I am troubled." She stood there looking down on the ground asthough she were biding her time, but she did not speak to him. "Shewould not come with me," he said, pointing up the stairs on whichMrs. Roden was now standing. "She has told me that it is bad thatI should come; but I will come one day soon." He was almost besidehimself with love as he was speaking. The girl was so completelyafter his own heart as he stood there close to her, filled with herinfluences, that he was unable to restrain himself.
"Come up, Marion dear," said Mrs. Roden, speaking from the landing."It is hardly fair to keep Lord Hampstead standing in the passage."
"It is most unfair," said Marion. "Good day, my lord."
"I will stand here till you come down to me, unless you will speak tome again. I will not be turned out while you are here. Marion, youare all the world to me. I love you with my whole, whole heart. I hadcome here, dear, to tell you so;--but she has delayed me. She mademe promise that I would not come again for a week, as though weeksor years could change me? Say one word to me, Marion. One word shallsuffice now, and then I will go. Marion, can you love me?"
"Come to me, Marion, come to me," said Mrs. Roden. "Do not answer himnow."
"No," said Marion, looking up, and laying her hand gently on thesleeve of hi
s coat. "I will not answer him now. It is too sudden. Imust think of words to answer such a speech. Lord Hampstead, I willgo to her now."
"But I shall hear from you."
"You shall come to me again, and I will tell you."
"To-morrow?"
"Nay; but give me a day or two. On Friday I will be ready with myanswer."
"You will give me your hand, Marion." She gave it to him, and hecovered it with kisses. "Only have this in your mind, fixed as fate,that no man ever loved a woman more truly than I love you. No man wasever more determined to carry out his purpose. I am in your hands.Think if you cannot dare to trust yourself into mine." Then he lefther, and went back to the "Duchess of Edinburgh," not thinking muchof the eyes which might be looking at him.