28. ETHELBERTA'S--MR. CHICKEREL'S ROOM

  The question of Neigh or no Neigh had reached a pitch of insistence whichno longer permitted of dallying, even by a popular beauty. His characterwas becoming defined to Ethelberta as something very differently composedfrom that of her first imagining. She had set him down to be a man whoseexternal in excitability owed nothing to self-repression, but stood asthe natural surface of the mass within. Neigh's urban torpor, she said,might have been in the first instance produced by art, but, were it thus,it had gone so far as to permeate him. This had been disproved, firstsurprisingly, by his reported statement; wondrously, in the second place,by his call upon her and sudden proposal; thirdly, to a degree simplyastounding, by what had occurred in the city that day. For Neigh, beforethe fervour had subsided which was produced in him by her look andgeneral power while reading 'Paradise Lost,' found himself alone with herin a nook outside the church, and there had almost demanded her promiseto be his wife. She had replied by asking for time, and idly offeringhim the petals of her rose, that had shed themselves in her hand. Neigh,in taking them, pressed her fingers more warmly than she thought she hadgiven him warrant for, which offended her. It was certainly a verymomentary affair, and when it was over seemed to surprise himself almostas much as it had vexed her; but it had reminded her of one truth whichshe was in danger of forgetting. The town gentleman was not half so farremoved from Sol and Dan, and the hard-handed order in general, in hispassions as in his philosophy. He still continued to be the male of hisspecies, and when the heart was hot with a dream Pall Mall had much thesame aspect as Wessex.

  Well, she had not accepted him yet; indeed, for the moment they were in apet with one another. Yet that might soon be cleared off, and thenrecurred the perpetual question, would the advantage that might accrue toher people by her marriage be worth the sacrifice? One palliativefeature must be remembered when we survey the matrimonial ponderings ofthe poetess and romancer. What she contemplated was not meanly toensnare a husband just to provide incomes for her and her family, but tofind some man she might respect, who would maintain her in such a stageof comfort as should, by setting her mind free from temporal anxiety,enable her to further organize her talent, and provide incomes for themherself. Plenty of saleable originality was left in her as yet, but itwas getting crushed under the rubbish of her necessities.

  She was not sure that Neigh would stand the test of her revelations. Itwould be possible to lead him to marry her without revealing anything--theevents of the last few days had shown her that--yet Ethelberta's honestyshrank from the safe course of holding her tongue. It might be pleasantto many a modern gentleman to find himself allied with a lady, none ofwhose ancestors had ever pandered to a court, lost an army, taken abribe, oppressed a community, or broken a bank; but the added disclosurethat, in avoiding these stains, her kindred had worked and continued towork with their hands for bread, might lead such an one to consider thatthe novelty was dearly purchased.

  Ethelberta was, upon the whole, dissatisfied with her progress thus far.She had planned many things and fulfilled few. Had her father been bythis time provided for and made independent of the world, as she hadthought he might be, not only would her course with regard to Neigh bequite clear, but the impending awkwardness of dining with her fatherbehind her chair could not have occurred. True, that was a small matterbeside her regret for his own sake that he was still in harness; and amere change of occupation would be but a tribute to a fastidiousnesswhich he did not himself share. She had frequently tried to think of avocation for him that would have a more dignified sound, and be lessdangerously close to her own path: the post of care-taker at someprovincial library, country stationer, registrar of births and deaths,and many others had been discussed and dismissed in face of theunmanageable fact that her father was serenely happy and comfortable as abutler, looking with dread at any hint of change short of perfectretirement. Since, then, she could not offer him this retirement, whatright had she to interfere with his mode of life at all? In no othersocial groove on earth would he thrive as he throve in his present one,to which he had been accustomed from boyhood, and where the remunerationwas actually greater than in professions ten times as stately in name.

  For the rest, too, Ethelberta had indulged in hopes, the high educationof the younger ones being the chief of these darling wishes. Picoteewanted looking to badly enough. Sol and Dan required no material help;they had quickly obtained good places of work under a Pimlico builder;for though the brothers scarcely showed as yet the light-fingereddeftness of London artizans, the want was in a measure compensated bytheir painstaking, and employers are far from despising country hands whobring with them strength, industry, and a desire to please. But theirsister had other lines laid down for them than those of level progress;to start them some day as masters instead of men was a long-cherishedwish of Ethelberta's.

  Thus she had quite enough machinery in her hands to keep decently going,even were she to marry a man who would take a kindly view of her peculiarsituation, and afford her opportunities of strengthening her powers forher kindred's good. But what would be the result if, eighteen monthshence--the date at which her occupation of the house in Exonbury Crescentcame to an end--she were still a widow, with no accumulated capital, herplatform talents grown homely and stunted through narrow living, and hertender vein of poesy completely dispersed by it? To calmly relinquishthe struggle at that point would have been the act of a stoic, but not ofa woman, particularly when she considered the children, the hopes of hermother for them, and her own condition--though this was least--under theironical cheers which would greet a slip back into the mire.

  It here becomes necessary to turn for a moment to Master Joey Chickerel,Ethelberta's troublesome page and brother. The face of this juvenile wasthat of a Graeco-Roman satyr to the furthest degree of completeness.Viewed in front, the outer line of his upper lip rose in a double archnearly to his little round nostrils, giving an expression of a jollity sodelicious to himself as to compel a perpetual drawing in of his breath.During half-laughs his lips parted in the middle, and remained closed atthe corners, which were small round pits like his nostrils, the same formbeing repeated as dimples a little further back upon his cheek. Theopening for each eye formed a sparkling crescent, both upper and underlid having the convexity upwards.

  But during some few days preceding the dinner-party at the Doncastles'all this changed. The luxuriant curves departed, a compressed linealitywas to be observed everywhere, the pupils of his eyes seemed flattened,and the carriage of his head was limp and sideways. This was a featureso remarkable and new in him that Picotee noticed it, and was lifted fromthe melancholy current of her own affairs in contemplating his.

  'Well, what's the matter?' said Picotee.

  'O--nothing,' said Joey.

  'Nothing? How can you say so?'

  'The world's a holler mockery--that's what I say.'

  'Yes, so it is, to some; but not to you,' said Picotee, sighing.

  'Don't talk argument, Picotee. I only hope you'll never feel what I feelnow. If it wasn't for my juties here I know what I'd do; I'd 'list,that's what I'd do. But having my position to fill here as the onlyresponsible man-servant in the house, I can't leave.'

  'Has anybody been beating you?'

  'Beating! Do I look like a person who gets beatings? No, it is amadness,' said Joey, putting his hand upon his chest. 'The case is, I amin love.'

  'O Joey, a boy no bigger than you are!' said Picotee reprovingly. Herpersonal interest in the passion, however, provoked her to inquire, inthe next breath, 'Who is it? Do tell, Joey.'

  'No bigger than I! What hev bigness to do with it? That's just likeyour old-fashioned notions. Bigness is no more wanted in courtingnowadays than in soldiering or smoking or any other duty of man. Husbandsis rare; and a promising courter who means business will fetch his pricein these times, big or small, I assure ye. I might have been engaged adozen times over as far as the bigness goe
s. You should see what amiserable little fellow my rival is afore you talk like that. Now youknow I've got a rival, perhaps you'll own there must be something in it.'

  'Yes, that seems like the real thing. But who is the young woman?'

  'Well, I don't mind telling you, Picotee. It is Mrs. Doncastle's newmaid. I called to see father last night, and had supper there; and youshould have seen how lovely she were--eating sparrowgrass sideways, as ifshe were born to it. But, of course, there's a rival--there always is--Imight have known that, and I will crush him!'

  'But Mrs. Doncastle's new maid--if that was she I caught a glimpse of theother day--is ever so much older than you--a dozen years.'

  'What's that to a man in love? Pooh--I wish you would leave me, Picotee;I wants to be alone.'

  A short time after this Picotee was in the company of Ethelberta, and shetook occasion to mention Joey's attachment. Ethelberta grew exceedinglyangry directly she heard of it.

  'What a fearful nuisance that boy is becoming,' she said. 'Does fatherknow anything of this?'

  'I think not,' said Picotee. 'O no, he cannot; he would not allow anysuch thing to go on; she is so much older than Joey.'

  'I should think he wouldn't allow it! The fact is I must be more strictabout this growing friendliness between you all and the Doncastleservants. There shall be absolutely no intimacy or visiting of any sort.When father wants to see any of you he must come here, unless there is amost serious reason for your calling upon him. Some disclosure orreference to me otherwise than as your mistress, will certainly be madeelse, and then I am ruined. I will speak to father myself about Joey'sabsurd nonsense this evening. I am going to see him on another matter.'And Ethelberta sighed. 'I am to dine there on Thursday,' she added.

  'To dine there, Berta? Well, that is a strange thing! Why, father willbe close to you!'

  'Yes,' said Ethelberta quietly.

  'How I should like to see you sitting at a grand dinner-table, amonglordly dishes and shining people, and father about the room unnoticed!Berta, I have never seen a dinner-party in my life, and father said thatI should some day; he promised me long ago.'

  'How will he be able to carry out that, my dear child?' said Ethelberta,drawing her sister gently to her side.

  'Father says that for an hour and a half the guests are quite fixed inthe dining-room, and as unlikely to move as if they were trees plantedround the table. Do let me go and see you, Berta,' Picotee addedcoaxingly. 'I would give anything to see how you look in the midst ofelegant people talking and laughing, and you my own sister all the time,and me looking on like puss-in-the-corner.'

  Ethelberta could hardly resist the entreaty, in spite of her recentresolution.

  'We will leave that to be considered when I come home to-night,' shesaid. 'I must hear what father says.'

  After dark the same evening a woman, dressed in plain black and wearing ahood, went to the servants' entrance of Mr. Doncastle's house, andinquired for Mr. Chickerel. Ethelberta found him in a room by himself,and on entering she closed the door behind her, and unwrapped her face.

  'Can you sit with me a few minutes, father?' she said.

  'Yes, for a quarter of an hour or so,' said the butler. 'Has anythinghappened? I thought it might be Picotee.'

  'No. All's well yet. But I thought it best to see you upon one or twomatters which are harassing me a little just now. The first is, thatstupid boy Joey has got entangled in some way with the lady's-maid atthis house; a ridiculous affair it must be by all account, but it is tooserious for me to treat lightly. She will worm everything out of him,and a pretty business it will be then.'

  'God bless my soul! why, the woman is old enough to be his mother! Ihave never heard a sound of it till now. What do you propose to do?'

  'I have hardly thought: I cannot tell at all. But we will consider thatafter I have done. The next thing is, I am to dine here Thursday--thatis, to-morrow.'

  'You going to dine here, are you?' said her father in surprise. 'Dearme, that's news. We have a dinner-party to-morrow, but I was not awarethat you knew our people.'

  'I have accepted the invitation,' said Ethelberta. 'But if you think Ihad better stay away, I will get out of it by some means. Heavens! whatdoes that mean--will anybody come in?' she added, rapidly pulling up herhood and jumping from the seat as the loud tones of a bell clanged forthin startling proximity.

  'O no--it is all safe,' said her father. 'It is the area door--nothingto do with me. About the dinner: I don't see why you may not come. Ofcourse you will take no notice of me, nor shall I of you. It is to berather a large party. Lord What's-his-name is coming, and several goodpeople.'

  'Yes; he is coming to meet me, it appears. But, father,' she said moresoftly and slowly, 'how wrong it will be for me to come so close to you,and never recognize you! I don't like it. I wish you could have givenup service by this time; it would have been so much less painful for usall round. I thought we might have been able to manage it somehow.'

  'Nonsense, nonsense,' said Mr. Chickerel crossly. 'There is not theleast reason why I should give up. I want to save a little money first.If you don't like me as I am, you must keep away from me. Don't beuneasy about my comfort; I am right enough, thank God. I can mind myselffor many a year yet.'

  Ethelberta looked at him with tears in her eyes, but she did not speak.She never could help crying when she met her father here.

  'I have been in service now for more than seven-and-thirty years,' herfather went on. 'It is an honourable calling; and why should youmaintain me because you can earn a few pounds by your gifts, and an oldwoman left you her house and a few sticks of furniture? If she had leftyou any money it would have been a different thing, but as you have towork for every penny you get, I cannot think of it. Suppose I shouldagree to come and live with you, and then you should be ill, or suchlike, and I no longer able to help myself? O no, I'll stick where I am,for here I am safe as to food and shelter at any rate. Surely,Ethelberta, it is only right that I, who ought to keep you all, should atleast keep your mother and myself? As to our position, that we cannothelp; and I don't mind that you are unable to own me.'

  'I wish I could own you--all of you.'

  'Well, you chose your course, my dear; and you must abide by it. Havingput your hand to the plough, it will be foolish to turn back.'

  'It would, I suppose. Yet I wish I could get a living by some simplehumble occupation, and drop the name of Petherwin, and be Berta Chickerelagain, and live in a green cottage as we used to do when I was small. Iam miserable to a pitiable degree sometimes, and sink into regrets that Iever fell into such a groove as this. I don't like covert deeds, such ascoming here to-night, and many are necessary with me from time to time.There is something without which splendid energies are a drug; and thatis a cold heart. There is another thing necessary to energy, too--thepower of distinguishing your visions from your reasonable forecasts whenlooking into the future, so as to allow your energy to lay hold of theforecasts only. I begin to have a fear that mother is right when sheimplies that I undertook to carry out visions and all. But ten of us areso many to cope with. If God Almighty had only killed off three-quartersof us when we were little, a body might have done something for the rest;but as we are it is hopeless!'

  'There is no use in your going into high doctrine like that,' saidChickerel. 'As I said before, you chose your course. You have begun tofly high, and you had better keep there.'

  'And to do that there is only one way--that is, to do it surely, so thatI have some groundwork to enable me to keep up to the mark in myprofession. That way is marriage.'

  'Marriage? Who are you going to marry?'

  'God knows. Perhaps Lord Mountclere. Stranger things have happened.'

  'Yes, so they have; though not many wretcheder things. I would soonersee you in your grave, Ethelberta, than Lord Mountclere's wife, or thewife of anybody like him, great as the honour would be.'

  'Of course that was only some
thing to say; I don't know the man even.'

  'I know his valet. However, marry who you may, I hope you'll be happy,my dear girl. You would be still more divided from us in that event; butwhen your mother and I are dead, it will make little difference.'

  Ethelberta placed her hand upon his shoulder, and smiled cheerfully.'Now, father, don't despond. All will be well, and we shall see no suchmisfortune as that for many a year. Leave all to me. I am a rare handat contrivances.'

  'You are indeed, Berta. It seems to me quite wonderful that we should beliving so near together and nobody suspect the relationship, because ofthe precautions you have taken.'

  'Yet the precautions were rather Lady Petherwin's than mine, as you know.Consider how she kept me abroad. My marriage being so secret made iteasy to cut off all traces, unless anybody had made it a special businessto search for them. That people should suspect as yet would be by farthe more wonderful thing of the two. But we must, for one thing, have novisiting between our girls and the servants here, or they soon willsuspect.'

  Ethelberta then laid down a few laws on the subject, and, explaining theother details of her visit, told her father soon that she must leave him.

  He took her along the passage and into the area. They were standing atthe bottom of the steps, saying a few parting words about Picotee's visitto see the dinner, when a female figure appeared by the railing above,slipped in at the gate, and flew down the steps past the father anddaughter. At the moment of passing she whispered breathlessly to him,'Is that you, Mr. Chickerel?'

  'Yes,' said the butler.

  She tossed into his arms a quantity of wearing apparel, and adding,'Please take them upstairs for me--I am late,' rushed into the house.

  'Good heavens, what does that mean?' said Ethelberta, holding herfather's arm in her uneasiness.

  'That's the new lady's-maid, just come in from an evening walk--thatyoung scamp's sweetheart, if what you tell me is true. I don't yet knowwhat her character is, but she runs neck and neck with time closer thanany woman I ever met. She stays out at night like this till the lastmoment, and often throws off her dashing courting-clothes in this way, asshe runs down the steps, to save a journey to the top of the house to herroom before going to Mrs. Doncastle's, who is in fact at this minutewaiting for her. Only look here.' Chickerel gathered up a hat deckedwith feathers and flowers, a parasol, and a light muslin train-skirt, outof the pocket of the latter tumbling some long golden tresses of hair.

  'What an extraordinary woman,' said Ethelberta. 'A perfect Cinderella.The idea of Joey getting desperate about a woman like that; no doubt shehas just come in from meeting him.'

  'No doubt--a blockhead. That's his taste, is it! I'll soon see if Ican't cure his taste if it inclines towards Mrs. Menlove.'

  'Mrs. what?'

  'Menlove; that's her name. She came about a fortnight ago.'

  'And is that Menlove--what shall we do!' exclaimed Ethelberta. 'The ideaof the boy singling out her--why it is ruin to him, to me, and to usall!'

  She hastily explained to her father that Menlove had been LadyPetherwin's maid and her own at some time before the death of her mother-in-law, that she had only stayed with them through a three months' tourbecause of her flightiness, and hence had learnt nothing of Ethelberta'shistory, and probably had never thought at all about it. Butnevertheless they were as well acquainted as a lady and her maid wellcould be in the time. 'Like all such doubtful characters,' continuedEthelberta, 'she was one of the cleverest and lightest-handed women weever had about us. When she first came, my hair was getting quite weak;but by brushing it every day in a peculiar manner, and treating it asonly she knew how, she brought it into splendid condition.'

  'Well, this is the devil to pay, upon my life!' said Mr. Chickerel, witha miserable gaze at the bundle of clothes and the general situation atthe same time. 'Unfortunately for her friendship, I have snubbed her twoor three times already, for I don't care about her manner. You know shehas a way of trading on a man's sense of honour till it puts him into anawkward position. She is perfectly well aware that, whatever scrape Ifind her out in, I shall not have the conscience to report her, because Iam a man, and she is a defenceless woman; and so she takes advantage ofone's feeling by making me, or either of the menservants, herbottle-holder, as you see she has done now.'

  'This is all simply dreadful,' said Ethelberta. 'Joey is shrewd andtrustworthy; but in the hands of such a woman as that! I suppose she didnot recognize me.'

  'There was no chance of that in the dark.'

  'Well, I cannot do anything in it,' said she. 'I cannot manage Joey atall.'

  'I will see if I can,' said Mr. Chickerel. 'Courting at his age,indeed--what shall we hear next!'

  Chickerel then accompanied his daughter along the street till an emptycab passed them, and putting her into it he returned to the house again.