40. MELCHESTER (continued)
The commotion wrought in Julian's mind by the abrupt incursion ofEthelberta into his quiet sphere was thorough and protracted. Thewitchery of her presence he had grown strong enough to withstand in part;but her composed announcement that she had intended to marry another,and, as far as he could understand, was intending it still, added a newchill to the old shade of disappointment which custom was day by dayenabling him to endure. During the whole interval in which he hadproduced those diapason blasts, heard with such inharmonious feelings bythe three auditors outside the screen, his thoughts had wandered widerthan his notes in conjectures on the character and position of thegentleman seen in Ethelberta's company. Owing to his assumption thatLord Mountclere was but a stranger who had accidentally come in at theside door, Christopher had barely cast a glance upon him, and the widedifference between the years of the viscount and those of his betrothedwas not so particularly observed as to raise that point to an item in hisobjections now. Lord Mountclere was dressed with all the cunning thatcould be drawn from the metropolis by money and reiterateddissatisfaction; he prided himself on his upright carriage; his stick wasso thin that the most malevolent could not insinuate that it was of anypossible use in walking; his teeth had put on all the vigour andfreshness of a second spring. Hence his look was the slowest of possibleclocks in respect of his age, and his manner was equally as much in therear of his appearance.
Christopher was now over five-and-twenty. He was getting so wellaccustomed to the spectacle of a world passing him by and splashing himwith its wheels that he wondered why he had ever minded it. His habit ofdreaming instead of doing had led him up to a curious discovery. It isno new thing for a man to fathom profundities by indulging humours: theactive, the rapid, the people of splendid momentum, have been surprisedto behold what results attend the lives of those whose usual plan fordischarging their active labours has been to postpone them indefinitely.Certainly, the immediate result in the present case was, to all buthimself, small and invisible; but it was of the nature of highest things.What he had learnt was that a woman who has once made a permanentimpression upon a man cannot altogether deny him her image by denying himher company, and that by sedulously cultivating the acquaintance of thisCreature of Contemplation she becomes to him almost a living soul. Hencea sublimated Ethelberta accompanied him everywhere--one who never teasedhim, eluded him, or disappointed him: when he smiled she smiled, when hewas sad she sorrowed. He may be said to have become the literalduplicate of that whimsical unknown rhapsodist who wrote of his ownsimilar situation--
'By absence this good means I gain, That I can catch her, Where none can watch her, In some close corner of my brain: There I embrace and kiss her; And so I both enjoy and miss her.'
This frame of mind naturally induced an amazing abstraction in theorganist, never very vigilant at the best of times. He would stand andlook fixedly at a frog in a shady pool, and never once think ofbatrachians, or pause by a green bank to split some tall blade of grassinto filaments without removing it from its stalk, passing on ignorantthat he had made a cat-o'-nine-tails of a graceful slip of vegetation. Hewould hear the cathedral clock strike one, and go the next minute to seewhat time it was. 'I never seed such a man as Mr. Julian is,' said thehead blower. 'He'll meet me anywhere out-of-doors, and never wink ornod. You'd hardly expect it. I don't find fault, but you'd hardlyexpect it, seeing how I play the same instrument as he do himself, andhave done it for so many years longer than he. How I have indulged thatman, too! If 'tis Pedals for two martel hours of practice I nevercomplain; and he has plenty of vagaries. When 'tis hot summer weatherthere's nothing will do for him but Choir, Great, and Swell altogether,till yer face is in a vapour; and on a frosty winter night he'll keep methere while he tweedles upon the Twelfth and Sixteenth till my arms bescrammed for want of motion. And never speak a word out-of-doors.'Somebody suggested that perhaps Christopher did not notice hiscoadjutor's presence in the street; and time proved to the organ-blowerthat the remark was just.
Whenever Christopher caught himself at these vacuous tricks he would bestruck with admiration of Ethelberta's wisdom, foresight, andself-command in refusing to wed such an incapable man: he felt that heought to be thankful that a bright memory of her was not also denied tohim, and resolved to be content with it as a possession, since it was asmuch of her as he could decently maintain.
Wrapped thus in a humorous sadness he passed the afternoon under notice,and in the evening went home to Faith, who still lived with him, andshowed no sign of ever being likely to do otherwise. Their present placeand mode of life suited her well. She revived at Melchester like anexotic sent home again. The leafy Close, the climbing buttresses, thepondering ecclesiastics, the great doors, the singular keys, thewhispered talk, echoes of lonely footsteps, the sunset shadow of the tallsteeple, reaching further into the town than the good bishop's teaching,and the general complexion of a spot where morning had the stillness ofevening and spring some of the tones of autumn, formed a properbackground to a person constituted as Faith, who, like Miss HepzibahPyncheon's chicken, possessed in miniature all the antiquity of herprogenitors.
After tea Christopher went into the streets, as was frequently hiscustom, less to see how the world crept on there than to walk up and downfor nothing at all. It had been market-day, and remnants of the ruralpopulation that had visited the town still lingered at corners, theirtoes hanging over the edge of the pavement, and their eyes wanderingabout the street.
The angle which formed the turning-point of Christopher's promenade wasoccupied by a jeweller's shop, of a standing which completely outshoneevery other shop in that or any trade throughout the town. Indeed, itwas a staple subject of discussion in Melchester how a shop of suchpretensions could find patronage sufficient to support its existence in aplace which, though well populated, was not fashionable. It had not longbeen established there, and was the enterprise of an incoming man whosewhole course of procedure seemed to be dictated by an intention toastonish the native citizens very considerably before he had done. Nearlyeverything was glass in the frontage of this fairy mart, and its contentsglittered like the hammochrysos stone. The panes being of plate-glass,and the shop having two fronts, a diagonal view could be had through itfrom one to the other of the streets to which it formed a corner.
This evening, as on all evenings, a flood of radiance spread from thewindow-lamps into the thick autumn air, so that from a distance thatcorner appeared as the glistening nucleus of all the light in the town.Towards it idle men and women unconsciously bent their steps, and closedin upon the panes like night-birds upon the lantern of a lighthouse.
When Christopher reached the spot there stood close to the pavement aplain close carriage, apparently waiting for some person who waspurchasing inside. Christopher would hardly have noticed this had he notalso perceived, pressed against the glass of the shop window, an unusualnumber of local noses belonging to overgrown working lads, tosspots, anidiot, the ham-smoker's assistant with his sleeves rolled up, a scot-and-lot freeholder, three or four seamstresses, the young woman who broughthome the washing, and so on. The interest of these gazers in someproceedings within, which by reason of the gaslight were as public as ifcarried on in the open air, was very great.
'Yes, that's what he's a buying o'--haw, haw!' said one of the young men,as the shopman removed from the window a gorgeous blue velvet tray ofwedding-rings, and laid it on the counter.
''Tis what you may come to yerself, sooner or later, God have mercy uponye; and as such no scoffing matter,' said an older man. 'Faith, I'd aslief cry as laugh to see a man in that corner.'
'He's a gent getting up in years too. He must hev been through it a fewtimes afore, seemingly, to sit down and buy the tools so cool as that.'
'Well, no. See what the shyest will do at such times. You bain'tyerself then; no man living is hisself then.'
'True,' said the ham-smoker's man. ''Tis a thought to look
at that achap will take all this trouble to get a woman into his house, and atwelvemonth after would as soon hear it thunder as hear her sing!'
The policeman standing near was a humane man, through having a youngfamily he could hardly keep, and he hesitated about telling them to moveon. Christopher had before this time perceived that the articles werelaid down before an old gentleman who was seated in the shop, and thatthe gentleman was none other than he who had been with Ethelberta in theconcert-room. The discovery was so startling that, constitutionallyindisposed as he was to stand and watch, he became as glued to the spotas the other idlers. Finding himself now for the first time directlyconfronting the preliminaries of Ethelberta's marriage to a stranger, hewas left with far less equanimity than he could have supposed possible tothe situation.
'So near the time!' he said, and looked hard at Lord Mountclere.
Christopher had now a far better opportunity than before for observingEthelberta's betrothed. Apart from any bias of jealousy, disappointment,or mortification, he was led to judge that this was not quite the man tomake Ethelberta happy. He had fancied her companion to be a man underfifty; he was now visibly sixty or more. And it was not the sort ofsexagenarianism beside which a young woman's happiness can sometimescontrive to keep itself alive in a quiet sleepy way. Suddenly itoccurred to him that this was the man whom he had helped in the carriageaccident on the way to Knollsea. He looked again.
By no means undignified, the face presented that combination of slynessand jocundity which we are accustomed to imagine of the canonical jolly-dogs in mediaeval tales. The gamesome Curate of Meudon might havesupplied some parts of the countenance; cunning Friar Tuck the remainder.Nothing but the viscount's constant habit of going to church every Sundaymorning when at his country residence kept unholiness out of hisfeatures, for though he lived theologically enough on the Sabbath, as itbecame a man in his position to do, he was strikingly mundane all therest of the week, always preferring the devil to God in his oaths. Andnothing but antecedent good-humour prevented the short fits of crossnessincident to his passing infirmities from becoming established. His lookwas exceptionally jovial now, and the corners of his mouth twitched asthe telegraph-needles of a hundred little erotic messages from his heartto his brain. Anybody could see that he was a merry man still, who lovedgood company, warming drinks, nymph-like shapes, and pretty words, inspite of the disagreeable suggestions he received from the pupils of hiseyes, and the joints of his lively limbs, that imps of mischief were busysapping and mining in those regions, with the view of tumbling him into acertain cool cellar under the church aisle.
In general, if a lover can find any ground at all for serenity in thetide of an elderly rival's success, he finds it in the fact itself ofthat ancientness. The other side seems less a rival than a makeshift.But Christopher no longer felt this, and the significant signs before hiseyes of the imminence of Ethelberta's union with this old hero filled himwith restless dread. True, the gentleman, as he appeared illuminated bythe jeweller's gas-jets, seemed more likely to injure Ethelberta byindulgence than by severity, while her beauty lasted; but there was anameless something in him less tolerable than this.
The purchaser having completed his dealings with the goldsmith, wasconducted to the door by the master of the shop, and into the carriage,which was at once driven off up the street.
Christopher now much desired to know the name of the man whom a nicechain of circumstantial evidence taught him to regard as the happy winnerwhere scores had lost. He was grieved that Ethelberta's confessedreserve should have extended so far as to limit her to mere indefinitehints of marriage when they were talking almost on the brink of thewedding-day. That the ceremony was to be a private one--which itprobably would be because of the disparity of ages--did not in hisopinion justify her secrecy. He had shown himself capable of atransmutation as valuable as it is rare in men, the change from pesteringlover to staunch friend, and this was all he had got for it. But even anold lover sunk to an indifferentist might have been tempted to spend anunoccupied half-hour in discovering particulars now, and Christopher hadnot lapsed nearly so far as to absolute unconcern.
That evening, however, nothing came in his way to enlighten him. But thenext day, when skirting the Close on his ordinary duties, he saw the samecarriage standing at a distance, and paused to behold the same oldgentleman come from a well-known office and re-enter the vehicle--LordMountclere, in fact, in earnest pursuit of the business of yesternight,having just pocketed a document in which romance, rashness, law, andgospel are so happily made to work together that it may safely beregarded as the neatest compromise which has ever been invented sinceAdam sinned.
This time Julian perceived that the brougham was one belonging to theWhite Hart Hotel, which Lord Mountclere was using partly from thenecessities of these hasty proceedings, and also because, by so doing, heescaped the notice that might have been bestowed upon his own equipage,or men-servants, the Mountclere hammer-cloths being known in Melchester.Christopher now walked towards the hotel, leisurely, yet with anxiety. Heinquired of a porter what people were staying there that day, and wasinformed that they had only one person in the house, Lord Mountclere,whom sudden and unexpected business had detained in Melchester since theprevious day.
Christopher lingered to hear no more. He retraced the street much morequickly than he had come; and he only said, 'Lord Mountclere--it mustnever be!'
As soon as he entered the house, Faith perceived that he was greatlyagitated. He at once told her of his discovery, and she exclaimed, 'Whata brilliant match!'
'O Faith,' said Christopher, 'you don't know! You are far from knowing.It is as gloomy as midnight. Good God, can it be possible?'
Faith blinked in alarm, without speaking.
'Did you never hear anything of Lord Mountclere when we lived atSandbourne?'
'I knew the name--no more.'
'No, no--of course you did not. Well, though I never saw his face, to myknowledge, till a short time ago, I know enough to say that, if earnestrepresentations can prevent it, this marriage shall not be. Father knewhim, or about him, very well; and he once told me--what I cannot tellyou. Fancy, I have seen him three times--yesterday, last night, and thismorning--besides helping him on the road some weeks ago, and never onceconsidered that he might be Lord Mountclere. He is here almost indisguise, one may say; neither man nor horse is with him; and his objectaccounts for his privacy. I see how it is--she is doing this to benefither brothers and sisters, if possible; but she ought to know that if sheis miserable they will never be happy. That's the nature of women--theytake the form for the essence, and that's what she is doing now. Ishould think her guardian angel must have quitted her when she agreed toa marriage which may tear her heart out like a claw.'
'You are too warm about it, Kit--it cannot be so bad as that. It is notthe thing, but the sensitiveness to the thing, which is the true measureof its pain. Perhaps what seems so bad to you falls lightly on her mind.A campaigner in a heavy rain is not more uncomfortable than we are in aslight draught; and Ethelberta, fortified by her sapphires and gold cupsand wax candles, will not mind facts which look like spectres to usoutside. A title will turn troubles into romances, and she will shine asan interesting viscountess in spite of them.'
The discussion with Faith was not continued, Christopher stopping theargument by saying that he had a good mind to go off at once to Knollsea,and show her her danger. But till the next morning Ethelberta wascertainly safe; no marriage was possible anywhere before then. He passedthe afternoon in a state of great indecision, constantly reiterating, 'Iwill go!'