Marion Fay: A Novel
CHAPTER VIII.
MR. GREENWOOD.
Roden spent a pleasant evening with his friend and his friend'sfriend at Hendon Hall before their departure for the yacht,--duringwhich not a word was said or an allusion made to Lady Frances. Theday was Sunday, July 20th. The weather was very hot, and the twoyoung men were delighted at the idea of getting away to the coolbreezes of the Northern Seas. Vivian also was a clerk in the publicservice, but he was a clerk very far removed in his position fromthat filled by George Roden. He was attached to the Foreign Office,and was Junior Private Secretary to Lord Persiflage, who wasSecretary of State at that moment. Lord Persiflage and our Marquishad married sisters. Vivian was distantly related to the two ladies,and hence the young men had become friends. As Lord Hampstead andRoden had been drawn together by similarity of opinion, so had LordHampstead and Vivian by the reverse. Hampstead could always produceVivian in proof that he was not, in truth, opposed to his own order.Vivian was one who proclaimed his great liking for things as he foundthem. It was a thousand pities that any one should be hungry; but,for himself, he liked truffles, ortolans, and all good things. Ifthere was any injustice in the world he was not responsible. And ifthere was any injustice he had not been the gainer, seeing that hewas a younger brother. To him all Hampstead's theories were sheerrhodomontade. There was the world, and men had got to live in it asbest they might. He intended to do so, and as he liked yachting andliked grouse-shooting, he was very glad to have arranged with LordPersiflage and his brother Private Secretary, so as to be able to getout of town for the next two months. He was member of half-a-dozenclubs, could always go to his brother's country house if nothing moreinviting offered, dined out in London four or five days a week, andconsidered himself a thoroughly useful member of society in that hecondescended to write letters for Lord Persiflage. He was pleasant inhis manners to all men, and had accommodated himself to Roden as wellas though Roden's office had also been in Downing Street instead ofthe City.
"Yes, grouse," he said, after dinner. "If anything better can beinvented I'll go and do it. American bears are a myth. You may getone in three years, and, as far as I can hear, very poor fun itis when you get it. Lions are a grind. Elephants are as big as ahay-stack. Pig-sticking may be very well, but you've got to go toIndia, and if you're a poor Foreign Office clerk you haven't goteither the time or the money."
"You speak as though killing something were a necessity," said Roden.
"So it is, unless somebody can invent something better. I hate races,where a fellow has nothing to do with himself when he can't affordto bet. I don't mean to take to cards for the next ten years. I havenever been up in a balloon. Spooning is good fun, but it comes to anend so soon one way or another. Girls are so wide-awake that theywon't spoon for nothing. Upon the whole I don't see what a fellow isto do unless he kills something."
"You won't have much to kill on board the yacht," said Roden.
"Fishing without end in Iceland and Norway! I knew a man who killed aton of trout out of an Iceland lake. He had to pack himself up veryclosely in tight-fitting nets, or the midges would have eaten him.And the skin came off his nose and ears from the sun. But he likedthat rather than not, and he killed his ton of trout."
"Who weighed them?" asked Hampstead.
"How well you may know a Utilitarian by the nature of his questions!If a man doesn't kill his ton all out, he can say he did, which isthe next best thing to it."
"Are you taking close-packing nets with you?" Roden asked.
"Well, no. Hampstead would be too impatient. And the _Free Trader_isn't big enough to bring away the fish. But I don't mind betting asovereign that I kill something every day I'm out,--barring Sundays."
Not a word was said about Lady Frances, although there were a fewmoments in which Roden and Lord Hampstead were alone together. Rodenhad made up his mind that he would ask no questions unless thesubject were mentioned, and did not even allude to any of the family;but he learnt in the course of the evening that the Marquis hadcome back from Germany with the intention of attending to hisParliamentary duties during the remainder of the Session.
"He's going to turn us all out," said Vivian, "on the CountyFranchise, I suppose."
"I'm afraid my father is not so keen about County Franchise as heused to be, though I hope he will be one of the few to support it inthe House of Lords if the House of Commons ever dares to pass it."
In this way Roden learnt that the Marquis, who had carried hisdaughter off to Saxony as soon as he had heard of the engagement,had left his charge there and had returned to London. As he wenthome that evening he thought that it would be his duty to go to LordKingsbury, and tell him, as from himself, that which the father hadas yet only learnt from his daughter or from his wife. He was awarethat it behoves a man when he has won a girl's heart to go to thefather and ask permission to carry on his suit. This duty he thoughthe was bound to perform, even though the father were a person sohigh and mighty as the Marquis of Kingsbury. Hitherto any such goingwas out of his power. The Marquis had heard the tidings, and hadimmediately caught his daughter up and carried her off to Germany. Itwould have been possible to write to him, but Roden had thought thatnot in such a way should such a duty be performed. Now the Marquishad come back to London; and though the operation would be painfulthe duty seemed to be paramount. On the next day he informed Mr.Jerningham that private business of importance would take him tothe West End, and asked leave to absent himself. The morning hadbeen passed in the room at the Post Office with more than ordinarysilence. Crocker had been collecting himself for an attack, but hiscourage had hitherto failed him. As Roden put on his hat and openedthe door he fired a parting shot. "Remember me kindly to LordHampstead," he said; "and tell him I hope he enjoyed his cutlets."
Roden stood for a moment with the door in his hand, thinking thathe would turn upon the man and rebuke his insolence, but at lastdetermined that it would be best to hold his peace.
He went direct to Park Lane, thinking that he would probably find theMarquis before he left the house after his luncheon. He had neverbeen before at the town mansion which was known as Kingsbury House,and which possessed all the appanages of grandeur which can be givento a London residence. As he knocked at the door he acknowledged thathe was struck with a certain awe of which he was ashamed. Having saidso much to the daughter, surely he should not be afraid to speak tothe father! But he felt that he could have managed the matter muchbetter had he contrived to have the interview at Hendon Hall, whichwas much less grand than Kingsbury House. Almost as soon as heknocked the door was opened, and he found himself with a powderedfootman as well as the porter. The powdered footman did not knowwhether or no "my lord" was at home. He would inquire. Would thegentleman sit down for a minute or two? The gentleman did sit down,and waited for what seemed to him to be more than half-an-hour. Thehouse must be very large indeed if it took the man all this time tolook for the Marquis. He was beginning to think in what way he mightbest make his escape,--as a man is apt to think when delays of thiskind prove too long for the patience,--but the man returned, and witha cold unfriendly air bade Roden to follow him. Roden was quite surethat some evil was to happen, so cold and unfriendly was the mannerof the man; but still he followed, having now no means of escape. Theman had not said that the Marquis would see him, had not even givenany intimation that the Marquis was in the house. It was as thoughhe were being led away to execution for having had the impertinenceto knock at the door. But still he followed. He was taken along apassage on the ground floor, past numerous doors, to what must havebeen the back of the house, and there was shown into a somewhat dingyroom that was altogether surrounded by books. There he saw an oldgentleman;--but the old gentleman was not the Marquis of Kingsbury.
"Ah, eh, oh," said the old gentleman. "You, I believe, are Mr. GeorgeRoden."
"That is my name. I had hoped to see Lord Kingsbury."
"Lord Kingsbury has thought it best for all partiesthat,--that,--that,--I should see you. That is, if anybod
y shouldsee you. My name is Greenwood;--the Rev. Mr. Greenwood. I am hislordship's chaplain, and, if I may presume to say so, his mostattached and sincere friend. I have had the honour of a very longconnexion with his lordship, and have therefore been entrusted byhim with this,--this,--this delicate duty, I had perhaps better callit." Mr. Greenwood was a stout, short man, about sixty years of age,with pendant cheeks, and pendant chin, with a few grey hairs brushedcarefully over his head, with a good forehead and well-fashionednose, who must have been good-looking when he was young, but that hewas too short for manly beauty. Now, in advanced years, he had becomelethargic and averse to exercise; and having grown to be corpulenthe had lost whatever he had possessed in height by becoming broad,and looked to be a fat dwarf. Still there would have been somethingpleasant in his face but for an air of doubt and hesitation whichseemed almost to betray cowardice. At the present moment he stoodin the middle of the room rubbing his hands together, and almosttrembling as he explained to George Roden who he was.
"I had certainly wished to see his lordship himself," said Roden.
"The Marquis has thought it better not, and I must say that I agreewith the Marquis." At the moment Roden hardly knew how to go on withthe business in hand. "I believe I am justified in assuring you thatanything you would have said to the Marquis you may say to me."
"Am I to understand that Lord Kingsbury refuses to see me?"
"Well;--yes. At the present crisis he does refuse. What can begained?"
Roden did not as yet know how far he might go in mentioning the nameof Lady Frances to the clergyman, but was unwilling to leave thehouse without some reference to the business he had in hand. He waspeculiarly averse to leaving an impression that he was afraid tomention what he had done. "I had to speak to his lordship about hisdaughter," he said.
"I know; I know; Lady Frances! I have known Lady Frances since shewas a little child. I have the warmest regard for Lady Frances,--asI have also for Lord Hampstead,--and for the Marchioness, and forher three dear little boys, Lord Frederic, Lord Augustus, and LordGregory. I feel a natural hesitation in calling them my friendsbecause I think that the difference in rank and station which it haspleased the Lord to institute should be maintained with all theirprivileges and all their honours. Though I have agreed with theMarquis through a long life in those political tenets by propagatingwhich he has been ever anxious to improve the condition of the lowerclasses, I am not and have not been on that account less anxious touphold by any small means which may be in my power those variationsin rank, to which, I think, in conjunction with the Protestantreligion, the welfare and high standing of this country are mainly tobe attributed. Having these feelings at my heart very strongly I donot wish, particularly on such an occasion as this, to seem by even achance word to diminish the respect which I feel to be due to all themembers of a family of a rank so exalted as that which belongs to thefamily of the Marquis of Kingsbury. Putting that aside for a moment,I perhaps may venture on this occasion, having had confided to me atask so delicate as the present, to declare my warm friendship forall who bear the honoured name of Trafford. I am at any rate entitledto declare myself so far a friend, that you may say anything on thisdelicate subject which you would think it necessary to say to theyoung lady's father. However inexpedient it may be that anythingshould be said at all, I have been instructed by his lordship tohear,--and to reply."
George Roden, while he was listening to this tedious sermon, wasstanding opposite to the preacher with his hat in his hand, havingnot yet had accorded to him the favour of a seat. During thepreaching of the sermon the preacher had never ceased to shiver andshake, rubbing one fat little clammy hand slowly over the other, andapparently afraid to look his audience in the face. It seemed toRoden as though the words must have been learnt by heart, they cameso glibly, with so much of unction and of earnestness, and were intheir glibness so strongly opposed to the man's manner. There had notbeen a single word spoken that had not been offensive to Roden. Itseemed to him that they had been chosen because of their offence.In all those long-winded sentences about rank in which Mr. Greenwoodhad expressed his own humility and insufficiency for the position offriend in a family so exalted he had manifestly intended to signifythe much more manifest insufficiency of his hearer to fill a placeof higher honour even than that of friend. Had the words come at thespur of the moment, the man must, thought Roden, have great gifts forextempore preaching. He had thought the time in the hall to be long,but it had not been much for the communication of the Earl's wishes,and then for the preparation of all these words. It was necessary,however, that he must make his reply without any preparation.
"I have come," he said, "to tell Lord Kingsbury that I am in lovewith his daughter." At hearing this the fat little man held up bothhis hands in amazement,--although he had already made it clear thathe was acquainted with all the circumstances. "And I should have beenbound to add," said Roden, plucking up all his courage, "that theyoung lady is also in love with me."
"Oh,--oh,--oh!" The hands went higher and higher as theseinterjections were made.
"Why not? Is not the truth the best?"
"A young man, Mr. Roden, should never boast of a young lady'saffection,--particularly of such a young lady;--particularly whenI cannot admit that it exists;--particularly not in her father'shouse."
"Nobody should boast of anything, Mr. Greenwood. I speak of a factwhich it is necessary that a father should know. If the lady deniesthe assertion I have done."
"It is a matter in which delicacy demands that no question shall beput to the young lady. After what has occurred, it is out of thequestion that your name should even be mentioned in the young lady'shearing."
"Why?--I mean to marry her."
"Mean!"--this word was shouted in the extremity of Mr. Greenwood'shorror. "Mr. Roden, it is my duty to assure you that under nocircumstances can you ever see the young lady again."
"Who says so?"
"The Marquis says so,--and the Marchioness,--and her little brothers,who with their growing strength will protect her from all harm."
"I hope their growing strength may not be wanted for any suchpurpose. Should it be so I am sure they will not be deficient asbrothers. At present there could not be much for them to do." Mr.Greenwood shook his head. He was still standing, not having movedan inch from the position in which he had been placed when thedoor was opened. "I can understand, Mr. Greenwood, that any furtherconversation on the subject between you and me must be quiteuseless."
"Quite useless," said Mr. Greenwood.
"But it has been necessary for my honour, and for my purpose, thatLord Kingsbury should know that I had come to ask him for hisdaughter's hand. I had not dared to expect that he would accept myproposal graciously."
"No, no; hardly that, Mr. Roden."
"But it was necessary that he should know my purpose from myself. Hewill now, no doubt, do so. He is, as I understand you, aware of mypresence in the house." Mr. Greenwood shook his head, as though hewould say that this was a matter he could not any longer discuss. "Ifnot, I must trouble his lordship with a letter."
"That will be unnecessary."
"He does know." Mr. Greenwood nodded his head. "And you will tell himwhy I have come?"
"The Marquis shall be made acquainted with the nature of theinterview."
Roden then turned to leave the room, but was obliged to ask Mr.Greenwood to show him the way along the passages. This the clergymandid, tripping on, ahead, upon his toes, till he had delivered theintruder over to the hall porter. Having done so, he made as it werea valedictory bow, and tripped back to his own apartment. Then Rodenleft the house, thinking as he did so that there was certainly muchto be done before he could be received there as a welcome son-in-law.
As he made his way back to Holloway he again considered it all. Howcould there be an end to this,--an end that would be satisfactory tohimself and to the girl that he loved? The aversion expressed to himthrough the person of Mr. Greenwood was natural. It could not but beexpected tha
t such a one as the Marquis of Kingsbury should endeavourto keep his daughter out of the hands of such a suitor. If it wereonly in regard to money would it not be necessary for him to do so?Every possible barricade would be built up in his way. There would benothing on his side except the girl's love for himself. Was it to beexpected that her love would have power to conquer such obstacles asthese? And if it were, would she obtain her own happiness by clingingto it? He was aware that in his present position no duty was soincumbent on him as that of looking to the happiness of the womanwhom he wished to make his wife.