CHAPTER TWELVE.
Another year of my existence passed rapidly away; I was nearly thirteenyears old, a sturdy bold boy, well fitted for the naval profession,which I now considered decided upon, and began to be impatient to leaveschool, and wondered that we heard nothing of Captain Delmar, when newswas received from another quarter.
One morning Captain Bridgeman came much earlier than usual, and with avery grave face put on especially for the occasion. I had not set offfor school, and ran up to him; but he checked me, and said, "I must seeyour mother directly, I have very important news for her."
I went in to tell my mother, who requested Captain Bridgeman to comeinto the parlour, and not being aware of the nature of thecommunication, ordered Aunt Milly and me into the shop; we waited forsome minutes, and then Captain Bridgeman made his appearance.
"What is the matter?" said Milly.
"Read this newspaper," said he; "there is a despatch from India, it willtell you all about it, and you can show it to your sister, when she ismore composed."
Curious to know what the matter could be, I quitted the shop, and wentinto the parlour, where I saw my mother with her face buried in the sofapillow, and apparently in great distress.
"What's the matter, mother?" said I.
"Oh! my child, my child!" replied my mother, wringing her hands, "youare an orphan, and I am a lonely widow."
"How's that?" said I.
"How's that?" said my grandmother, "why, are you such a fool, as not tounderstand that your father is dead?"
"Father's dead, is he?" replied I, "I'll go and tell Aunt Milly;" andaway I went out of the parlour to Milly, whom I found reading thenewspaper.
"Aunt," said I, "father's dead, only to think! I wonder how he died!"
"He was killed in action, dear," said my aunt; "look here, here is theaccount, and the list of killed and wounded. D'ye see your father'sname--Benjamin Keene, marine?"
"Let me read all about it, Aunt Milly," replied I, taking the paper fromher; and I was soon very busy with the account of the action.
My readers must not suppose that I had no feeling, because I showed noneat my father's death; if they call to mind the humble position in whichI had always seen my father, who dared not even intrude upon thepresence of those with whom my mother and I were on familiar terms, andthat he was ordered about just like a servant by my mother, who set meno example of fear or love for him, they will easily imagine that I feltless for his death than I should have for that of Captain Bridgeman, ormany others with whom I was on intimate terms.
What did puzzle me was, that my mother should show so much feeling onthe occasion. I did not know the world then, and that decency requireda certain display of grief. Aunt Milly appeared to be very unconcernedabout it, although, occasionally, she was in deep thought. I put downthe paper as soon as I had read the despatch, and said to her, "Well, Isuppose I must go to school now, aunt?"
"Oh no, dear," replied she, "you can't go to school for a few days now--it wouldn't be proper; you must remain at home and wait till you haveput on mourning."
"I'm glad of that, at all events," replied I; "I wonder where CaptainDelmar is, and why he don't send for me; I begin to hate school."
"I dare say it won't be long before you hear from him, dear," replied myaunt; "stay here and mind the shop, while I go in to your mother."
If the truth was told, I am afraid that the death of Ben was a source ofcongratulation to all parties who were then in the parlour. As for me,I was very glad to have a few days' holiday, being perfectly indifferentas to whether he was dead or alive.
When I went in I found them in consultation as to the mourning: mymother did not, in the first place, wish to make any a parade about ahusband of whom she was ashamed; in the second, she did not like widow'sweeds, and the unbecoming cap. So it was decided, as Ben had been deadsix months, and if they had known it before they would have been inmourning for him all that time, that half-mourning was all that wasrequisite for them; and that, as for me, there was no reason for mygoing into mourning at all.
Three days after the intelligence, my mother re-appeared in the shop;the reason why she did not appear before was, that her dress was notready--she looked very pretty indeed in half-mourning, so did my AuntMilly; and the attentions of the marine corps, especially CaptainBridgeman and Lieutenant Flat, were more unremitting than ever.
It appeared that, as the death of Ben had removed the great difficultyto my aunt's being married to an officer, my grandmother had resolved toascertain the intentions of Captain Bridgeman, and if she found that hecried off, to persuade Milly to consent to become Mrs Flat. Whethershe consulted my mother or my aunt on this occasion, I cannot positivelysay, but I rather think not.
My mother and my aunt were walking out one evening, when CaptainBridgeman came in, and my grandmother, who remained in the shop whenevermy mother and Milly went out together, which was very seldom, requestedhim to walk into the back parlour, desiring me to remain in the shop,and let her know if she was wanted.
Now when they went into the parlour, the door was left ajar, and, as Iremained at the back part of the shop, I could not help over-hearingevery word which was said; for my grandmother being very deaf, as mostdeaf people do, talked quite as loud as Captain Bridgeman was compelledto do, to make her hear him.
"I wish, Captain Bridgeman, as a friend, to ask your advice relative tomy daughter Amelia," said the old lady. "Please to take a chair."
"If there is any opinion that I can offer on the subject, madam, I shallbe most happy to give it," replied the captain, sitting down asrequested.
"You see, my daughter Amelia has been well brought up, and carefullyeducated, as was, indeed, my daughter, Arabella, through the kindness ofmy old patron, Mrs Delmar, the aunt of the Honourable Captain Delmar,whom you have often met here, and who is heir to the title of deVersely; that is to say, his eldest brother has no children. I havebeen nearly fifty years in the family as a confidential, CaptainBridgeman; the old lord was very fond of my husband, who was hissteward, but he died, poor man, a long while ago; I am sure it wouldhave broken his heart, if, in his lifetime, my daughter Arabella hadmade the foolish marriage which she did with a private marine--however,what's done can't be helped, as the saying is--that's all over now."
"It was certainly a great pity that Mrs Keene should have been sofoolish," replied Captain Bridgeman, "but, as you say, that is all overnow."
"Yes; God's will be done, Captain Bridgeman; now you see, sir, that thismarriage of Bella's has done no good to the prospects of her sisterAmelia, who, nevertheless, is a good and pretty girl though I say it,who am her mother; and moreover, she will bring a pretty penny to herhusband whoever he may be; for you see, Captain Bridgeman, my husbandwas not idle during the time that he was in the family of the Delmars,and as her sister is so well to do, why little Amelia will come into agreater share than she otherwise would--that is, if she marries well,and according to the wishes of her mother."
At this interesting part of the conversation Captain Bridgeman leantmore earnestly towards my grandmother.
"A pretty penny, madam, you said; I never heard the expression before;what may a pretty penny mean?"
"It means, first and last, 4,000 pounds, Captain Bridgeman; part down,and the other when I die."
"Indeed," replied Captain Bridgeman; "I certainly never thought thatMiss Amelia would ever have any fortune; indeed, she's too pretty andaccomplished to require any."
"Now, sir," continued my grandmother, "the point on which I wish toconsult you is this: you know that Lieutenant Flat is very often here,and for a long while has been very attentive to my daughter; he has, Ibelieve, almost as much as proposed--that is, in his sort of way; but mydaughter does not seem to care for him. Now, Captain Bridgeman, MrFlat may not be very clever, but I believe him to be a very worthy youngman; still one must be cautious, and what I wish to know before Iinterfere and persuade my daughter to marry him is, whether you thinkthat Mr Flat is of a disposition
which would make the marriage state ahappy one; for you see, Captain Bridgeman, love before marriage is veryapt to fly away, but love that comes after marriage will last out yourlife."
"Well, madam," replied the captain, "I will be candid with you; I do notthink that a clever girl like Miss Amelia is likely to be happy as thewife of my good friend Mr Flat--still there is nothing against hischaracter, madam; I believe him harmless--very harmless."
"He's a very fine-looking young man, Captain Bridgeman."
"Yes; nothing to be found fault with in his appearance."
"Very good-natured."
"Yes; he's not very quick in temper, or anything else; he's what we calla slow-coach."
"I hear he's a very correct officer, Captain Bridgeman."
"Yes; I am not aware that he has ever been under an arrest."
"Well, we cannot expect everything in this world; he is handsome,good-tempered, and a good officer--I cannot see why Amelia does not likehim, particularly as her affections are not otherwise engaged. I amsatisfied with the answer you have given, Captain Bridgeman, and now Ishall point out to Amelia that I expect she will make up her mind toaccept Mr Flat."
Here Captain Bridgeman hesitated.
"Indeed, madam, if her affections are not otherwise engaged--I say--arenot engaged, madam, I do not think she could do better. Would, you likeme to sound Miss Amelia on the subject?"
"Really, Captain Bridgeman, it is very kind of you; you may, perhaps,persuade her to listen to your friend Mr Flat."
"I will, at all events, ascertain her real sentiments, madam," said thecaptain, rising; "and, if you please, I will say farewell for thepresent."
As my grandmother anticipated, the scale, which had been so longbalanced by Captain Bridgeman, was weighed down in favour of marriage bythe death of my father Ben, and the unexpected fortune of 4,000 pounds.
The next day the captain proposed and was accepted, and six weeks fromthat date my aunt Milly became his wife.
The wedding was very gay: some people did sneer at the match, but wherewas there ever a match without a sneer? There are always and everywherepeople to be found who will envy the happiness of others. Some talkedabout the private marine; this attack was met with the 4,000 pounds (orrather 8,000 pounds per annum, for rumour, as usual, had doubled thesum); others talked of the shop as _infra dig_; the set-off againstwhich was, the education and beauty of the bride. One or two subs'wives declared that they would not visit Mrs Bridgeman; but when thecolonel and his lady called to congratulate the new-married couple, andinvited a large party in their own house to meet them, then then subs'wives left their cards as soon as they could.
In a few weeks all was right again: my mother would not give up hershop--it was too lucrative; but she was on more intimate terms with hercustomers; and when people found that, although her sister was acaptain's lady, my mother had too much sense to be ashamed of herposition; why they liked her the better. Indeed, as she was still veryhandsome, one or two of the marine officers, now that she was a widow,paid her very assiduous court; but my mother had no intention ofentering again into the holy state--she preferred STATE _in quo_. Shehad no one to care for but me, and for me she continued her shop andlibrary, although, I believe, she could have retired upon a comfortableindependence, had she chosen so to do.
My mother, whatever she might have been when a girl, was now astrong-minded, clever woman. It must have been a painful thing for herto have made up her mind to allow me to go to sea; I was her only child,her only care; I believe she loved me dearly, although she was not solavish of her caresses as my aunt Milly; but she perceived that it wouldbe for my advantage that I should insure the patronage and protection ofCaptain Delmar, and she sacrificed self to my interest.