Page 74 of The Newcomes

governess, or romping with her sisters; and when she had dinner at one

  o'clock; and when she wore a pinafore very likely--we secretly respected

  her as the future Countess of Kew, and mother of the Viscount Walham.

  Lord Kew was very happy with his bride, and very good to her. He took

  Lady Kew to Paris, for a marriage trip; but they lived almost altogether

  at Kewbury afterwards, where his lordship sowed tame oats now after his

  wild ones, and became one of the most active farmers of his county. He

  and the Newcomes were not very intimate friends; for Lord Kew was heard

  to say that he disliked Barnes more after his marriage than before. And

  the two sisters, Lady Clara and Lady Kew, had a quarrel on one occasion,

  when the latter visited London just before the dinner at which we have

  just assisted--nay, at which we are just assisting, took place,--a

  quarrel about Highgate's attentions to Ethel, very likely. Kew was

  dragged into it, and hot words passed between him and Jack Belsize; and

  Jack did not go down to Kewbury afterwards, though Kew's little boy was

  christened after him. All these interesting details about people of the

  very highest rank, we are supposed to whisper in the reader's ear as we

  are sitting at a Belgravian dinner-table. My dear Barmecide friend, isn't

  it pleasant to be in such fine company?

  And now we must tell how it is that Clive Newcome, Esq., whose eyes are

  flashing fire across the flowers of the table at Lord Highgate, who is

  making himself so agreeable to Miss Ethel--now we must tell how it is

  that Clive and his cousin Barnes have grown to be friends again.

  The Bundelcund Bank, which had been established for four years, had now

  grown to be one of the most flourishing commercial institutions in

  Bengal. Founded, as the prospectus announced, at a time when all private

  credit was shaken by the failure of the great Agency Houses, of which the

  downfall had carried dismay and ruin throughout the Presidency, the B. B.

  had been established on the only sound principle of commercial

  prosperity--that is association. The native capitalists, headed by the

  great firm of Rummun Loll and Co., of Calcutta, had largely embarked in

  the B. B., and the officers of the two services and the European

  mercantile body of Calcutta had been invited to take shares in an

  institution which, to merchants, native and English, civilian and

  military men, was alike advantageous and indispensable. How many young

  men of the latter services had been crippled for life by the ruinous cost

  of agencies, of which the profits to the agents themselves were so

  enormous! The shareholders of the B. B. were their own agents; and the

  greatest capitalist in India as well as the youngest ensign in the

  service might invest at the largest and safest premium, and borrow at the

  smallest interest, by becoming according to his means, a shareholder in

  the B. B. Their correspondents were established in each presidency and in

  every chief city of India, as well as at Sydney, Singapore, Canton, and,

  of course. London. With China they did, an immense opium-trade, of which

  the profits were so great, that it was only in private sittings of the B.

  B. managing committee that the details and accounts of these operations

  could be brought forward. Otherwise the books of the bank were open to

  every shareholder; and the ensign or the young civil servant was at

  liberty at any time to inspect his own private account as well as the

  common ledger. With New South Wales they carried on a vast trade in wool,

  supplying that great colony with goods, which their London agents enabled

  them to purchase in such a way as to give them the command of the market.

  As if to add to their prosperity, coppermines were discovered on lands in

  the occupation of the B. Banking Company, which gave the most astonishing

  returns. And throughout the vast territories of British India, through

  the great native firm of Rummun Loll and Co., the Bundelcund Banking

  Company had possession of the native markets. The order from Birmingham

  for idols alone (made with their copper and paid in their wool) was

  enough to make the Low Church party in England cry out; and a debate upon

  this subject actually took place in the House of Commons, of which the

  effect was to send up the shares of the Bundelcund Banking Company very

  considerably upon the London Exchange.

  The fifth half-yearly dividend was announced at twelve and a quarter per

  cent of the paid-up capital: the accounts from the copper-mine sent the

  dividend up to a still greater height, and carried the shares to an

  extraordinary premium. In the third year of the concern, the house of

  Hobson Brothers, of London, became the agents of the Bundelcund Banking

  Company of India and amongst our friends, James Binnie, who had prudently

  held out for some time and Clive Newcome, Esq., became shareholders,

  Clive's good father having paid the first instalments of the lad's shares

  up in Calcutta, and invested every rupee he could himself command in this

  enterprise. When Hobson Brothers joined it, no wonder James Binnie was

  convinced; Clive's friend, the Frenchman, and through that connexion the

  house of Higg, of Newcome and Manchester, entered into the affair; and

  amongst the minor contributors in England we may mention Miss Cann, who

  took a little fifty-pound-note share and dear old Miss Honeyman; and J.

  J., and his father, Ridley, who brought a small bag of saving--all

  knowing that their Colonel, who was eager that his friends should

  participate in his good fortune, would never lead them wrong. To Clive's

  surprise Mrs. Mackenzie, between whom and himself there was a

  considerable coolness, came to his chambers, and with a solemn injunction

  that the matter between them should be quite private, requested him to

  purchase 1500 pounds worth of Bundelcund shares for her and her darling

  girls, which he did, astonished to find the thrifty widow in possession

  of so much money. Had Mr. Pendennis's mind not been bent at this moment

  on quite other subjects, he might have increased his own fortune by the

  Bundelcund Bank speculation; but in these two years I was engaged in

  matrimonial affairs (having Clive Newcome, Esq., as my groomsman on a

  certain interesting occasion). When we returned from our tour abroad the

  India Bank shares were so very high that I did not care to purchase,

  though I found an affectionate letter from our good Colonel (enjoining me

  to make my fortune) awaiting me at the agent's, and my wife received a

  pair of beautiful Cashmere shawls from the same kind friend.

  CHAPTER XLIX

  Contains at least six more Courses and two Desserts

  The banker's dinner-party over, we returned to our apartments, having

  dropped Major Pendennis at his lodgings, and there, as the custom is

  amongst most friendly married couples, talked over the company and the

  dinner. I thought my wife would naturally have liked Sir Barnes Newcome,

  who was very attentive to her, took her to dinner as the bride, and

  talked ceaselessly to her during the whole entertainment.

  Laura said No--she did not know why--could there be any better reason?
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  There was a tone about Sir Barnes Newcome she did not like--especially in

  his manner to women.

  I remarked that he spoke sharply and in a sneering manner to his wife,

  and treated one or two remarks which she made as if she was an idiot.

  Mrs. Pendennis flung up her head as much as to say, "and so she is."

  Mr. Pendennis. What, the wife too, my dear Laura! I should have thought

  such a pretty, simple, innocent young woman, with just enough good looks

  to make her pass muster, who is very well bred and not brilliant at all,

  --I should have thought such a one might have secured a sister's

  approbation.

  Mrs. Pendennis. You fancy we are all jealous of one another. No protests

  of ours can take that notion out of your heads. My dear Pen, I do not

  intend to try. We are not jealous of mediocrity: we are not patient of

  it. I dare say we are angry because we see men admire it so. You

  gentlemen, who pretend to be our betters, give yourselves such airs of

  protection, and profess such a lofty superiority over us, prove it by

  quitting the cleverest woman in the room for the first pair of bright

  eyes and dimpled cheeks that enter. It was those charms which attracted

  you in Lady Clara, sir.

  Pendennis. I think she is very pretty, and very innocent, and artless.

  Mrs. P. Not very pretty, and perhaps not so very artless.

  Pendennis. How can you tell, you wicked woman? Are you such a profound

  deceiver yourself, that you can instantly detect artifice in others? O

  Laura!

  Mrs. P. We can detect all sorts of things. The inferior animals have

  instincts, you know. (I must say my wife is always very satirical upon

  this point of the relative rank of the sexes.) One thing I am sure of is,

  that she is not happy; and oh, Pen! that she does not care much for her

  little girl.

  Pendennis. How do you know that, my dear?

  Mrs. P. We went upstairs to see the child after dinner. It was at my

  wish. The mother did not offer to go. The child was awake and crying.

  Lady Clara did not offer to take it. Ethel--Miss Newcome took it, rather

  to my surprise, for she seems very haughty; and the nurse, who I suppose

  was at supper, came running up at the noise, and then the poor little

  thing was quiet.

  Pendennis. I remember we heard the music as the dining-room door was

  open; and Newcome said, "That is what you will have to expect,

  Pendennis."

  Mrs. P. Hush, sir! If my baby cries, I think you must expect me to run

  out of the room. I liked Miss Newcome after seeing her with the poor

  little thing. She looked so handsome as she walked with it! I longed to

  have it myself.

  Pendennis. Tout vient a fin, a qui sait----

  Mrs. P. Don't be silly. What a dreadful dreadful place this great world

  of yours is, Arthur; where husbands do not seem to care for their wives;

  where mothers do not love their children; where children love their

  nurses best; where men talk what they call gallantry!

  Pendennis. What?

  Mrs. P. Yes, such as that dreary, languid, pale, bald, cadaverous,

  leering man whispered to me. Oh, how I dislike him! I am sure he is

  unkind to his wife. I am sure he has a bad temper; and if there is any

  excuse for----

  Pendennis. For what?

  Mrs. P. For nothing. But you heard yourself that he had a bad temper,

  and spoke sneeringly to his wife. What could make her marry him?

  Pendennis. Money, and the desire of papa and mamma. For the same reason

  Clive's flame, poor Miss Newcome, was brought out to-day; that vacant

  seat at her side was for Lord Farintosh. who did not come. And the

  Marquis not being present, the Baron took his innings. Did you not see

  how tender he was to her, and how fierce poor Clive looked?

  Mrs. P. Lord Highgate was very attentive to Miss Newcome, was he?

  Pendennis. And some years ago, Lord Highgate was breaking his heart

  about whom do you think? about Lady Clara Pulleyn, our hostess of last

  night. He was Jack Belsize then, a younger son, plunged over head and

  ears in debt; and of course there could be no marriage. Clive was present

  at Baden when a terrible scene took place, and carried off poor Jack to

  Switzerland and Italy, where he remained till his father died, and he

  came into the title in which he rejoices. And now he is off with the old

  love, Laura, and on with the new. Why do you look at me so? Are you

  thinking that other people have been in love two or three times too?

  Mrs. P. I am thinking that I should not like to live in London, Arthur.

  And this was all that Mrs. Laura could be brought to say. When this young

  woman chooses to be silent, there is no power that can extract a word

  from her. It is true that she is generally in the right; but that is only

  the more aggravating. Indeed, what can be more provoking, after a dispute

  with your wife, than to find it is you, and not she, who has been in the

  wrong?

  Sir Barnes Newcome politely caused us to understand that the

  entertainment of which we had just partaken was given in honour of the

  bride. Clive must needs not be outdone in hospitality; and invited us and

  others to a fine feast at the Star and Garter at Richmond, where Mrs.

  Pendennis was placed at his right hand. I smile as I think how much

  dining has been already commemorated in these veracious pages; but the

  story is an everyday record; and does not dining form a certain part of

  the pleasure and business of every day? It is at that pleasant hour that

  our set has the privilege of meeting the other. The morning man and woman

  alike devote to business; or pass mainly in the company of their own

  kind. John has his office; Jane her household, her nursery, her milliner,

  her daughters and their masters. In the country he has his hunting, his

  fishing, his farming, his letters; she her schools, her poor, her garden,

  or what not. Parted through the shining hours, and improving them, let us

  trust, we come together towards sunset only, we make merry and amuse

  ourselves. We chat with our pretty neighbour, or survey the young ones

  sporting; we make love and are jealous; we dance, or obsequiously turn

  over the leaves of Cecilia's music-book; we play whist, or go to sleep in

  the arm-chair, according to our ages and conditions. Snooze gently in thy

  arm-chair, thou easy bald-head! play your whist, or read your novel, or

  talk scandal over your work, ye worthy dowagers and fogies! Meanwhile the

  young ones frisk about, or dance, or sing, or laugh; or whisper behind

  curtains in moonlit windows; or shirk away into the garden, and come back

  smelling of cigars; nature having made them so to do.

  Nature at this time irresistibly impelled Clive Newcome towards

  love-making. It was pairing-season with him. Mr. Clive was now some

  three-and-twenty years old: enough has been said about his good looks,

  which were in truth sufficient to make him a match for the young lady on

  whom he had set his heart, and from whom, during this entertainment which

  he gave to my wife, he could never keep his eyes away for three minutes.

  Laura's did not need to be so keen as they wer
e in order to see what poor

  Clive's condition was. She did not in the least grudge the young fellow's

  inattention to herself; or feel hurt that he did not seem to listen when

  she spoke; she conversed with J. J., her neighbour, who was very modest

  and agreeable; while her husband, not so well pleased, had Mrs. Hobson

  Newcome for his partner during the chief part of the entertainment. Mrs.

  Hobson and Lady Clara were the matrons who gave the sanction of their

  presence to this bachelor-party. Neither of their husbands could come to

  Clive's little fete; had they not the City and the House of Commons to

  attend? My uncle, Major Pendennis, was another of the guests; who for his

  part found the party was what you young fellows call very slow. Dreading

  Mrs. Hobson and her powers of conversation, the old gentleman nimbly

  skipped out of her neighbourhood, and fell by the side of Lord Highgate,

  to whom the Major was inclined to make himself very pleasant. But Lord

  Highgate's broad back was turned upon his neighbour, who was forced to

  tell stories to Captain Crackthorpe, which had amused dukes and marquises

  in former days, and were surely quite good enough for any baron in this

  realm. "Lord Highgate sweet upon la belle Newcome, is he?" said the testy

  Major afterwards. "He seemed to me to talk to Lady Clara the whole time.

  When I awoke in the garden after dinner, as Mrs. Hobson was telling one

  of her confounded long stories, I found her audience was diminished to

  one. Crackthorpe, Lord Highgate, and Lady Clara. we had all been sitting

  there when the bankeress cut in (in the mid of a very good story I was

  telling them, which entertained them very much), and never ceased talking

  till I fell off into a doze. When I roused myself, begad, she was still

  going on. Crackthorpe was off, smoking a cigar on the terrace: my Lord

  and Lady Clara were nowhere; and you four, with the little painter, were

  chatting cosily in another arbour. Behaved himself very well, the little

  painter. Doosid good dinner Ellis gave us. But as for Highgate being aux

  soins with la belle Banquiere, trust me, my boy, he is--upon my word, my

  dear, it seemed to me his thoughts went quite another way. To be sure,

  Lady Clara is a belle Banquiere too now. He, he, he! How could he say he

  had no carriage to go home in? He came down in Crackthorpe's cab, who

  passed us just now, driving back young What-dye-call the painter."

  Thus did the Major discourse, as we returned towards the City. I could

  see in the open carriage which followed us (Lady Clara Newcome's) Lord

  Highgate's white hat, by Clive's on the back seat.

  Laura looked at her husband. The same thought may have crossed their

  minds, though neither uttered it; but although Sir Barnes and Lady Clara

  Newcome offered us other civilities during our stay in London, no

  inducements could induce Laura to accept the proffered friendship of that

  lady. When Lady Clara called, my wife was not at home; when she invited

  us, Laura pleaded engagements. At first she bestowed on Miss Newcome,

  too, a share of this haughty dislike, and rejected the advances which

  that young lady, who professed to like my wife very much, made towards an

  intimacy. When I appealed to her (for Newcome's house was after all a

  very pleasant one, and you met the best people there), my wife looked at

  me with an expression of something like scorn, and said: "Why don't I

  like Miss Newcome? Of course because I am jealous of her--all women, you

  know, Arthur, are jealous of such beauties." I could get for a long while

  no better explanation than these sneers, for my wife's antipathy towards

  this branch of the Newcome family; but an event presently came which

  silenced my remonstrances, and showed to me, that Laura had judged Barnes

  and his wife only too well.