A Rich Man's Relatives Volume II Part 5

"You can come to my study to-morrow morning when I am shaving if you want me to hear the rest of your discourse upon the evil of harshness in bringing up a supersensitive boy; though my own belief is that it was your mother who spoiled you. Meanwhile, use your common sense for once, if you have any; hear me out, and then do as I say.

"You think yourself talented, and for myself I should be pleased to think so too, but you hate work, and will not drudge at the routine of our profession, without which success cannot come. You think you have a turn for politics, and could make your mark that way; and for myself, I am bound to say I think you might become a good speaker with practice; but success in politics wants either industry and application at the beginning, qualities which you do not possess or will not exercise, or else a connection with some influential interest. This last you have not either, but with very moderate a.s.siduity any young man, who is also my son, may at this moment acquire and retain it for life. Mlle. Rouget is of an age to marry--just the right age for you. Her granduncle is archbishop, her uncle a cabinet minister. She is an only child, and her father is seignior of La Hache. I have been able to be useful to the old man, and he will consider your pretensions favourably if you will only declare yourself. In fact, I have in a manner declared on your behalf, and a very moderate degree of attention on your part, in confirmation, is all that is necessary. You see she is French, and well reared--willing to let her parents bestow her hand where they see fit. So you will not be compelled to such lavish demonstrations as I have seen you make elsewhere, where nothing was to be got by it; only of course, it will be good taste to discontinue the attentions in other quarters while you are a pretender to mademoiselle's hand!

"Why, man! with the church and the government at your back there is not a const.i.tuency in the country you may not aspire to represent; and with experience and my advice--which is worth more, my son, than you in your sapiency can very well make out--there is no position whatever which you may not rise to. Now don't be pig-headed! I see the obstinate look gathering; but do not let us have a public row for the entertainment of our friends. Go and dance with Mdlle. Rouget, and be civil to her; and take in her or her mother to supper. That will not compromise you either way, and it will save me for the present from the false position in which my zeal for your prospects, and your own indifference to them, seem like to land me."

Jordan and his son were scarcely good friends, though both were inclined to do their family duty. Like the positive poles of two magnets, they never met without repelling each other. Jordan was naturally diplomatic, with a p.r.o.nounced turn for management, which generally ended in his getting his own way, and therefore made him disinclined to yield. In town he was liked for his pleasant ways, and generally he was yielded to; but at home, his consort, whom the rest of the world found charming, had, for him, what charming women so often possess for the enlivenment of their nearest and dearest, and without which, perhaps, they would soon cease to be charming at all, a will of her own. She had an inconvenient turn for epigram, and with a verb, or even with a laugh, could p.r.i.c.k a bubble or a wind-bag in its weakest place, bringing the poor high-flyer flapping to the ground; and Jordan, doubtless, like other Benedicts, though moderate in his flights abroad, would at times adventure to soar a little by his own fireside. Amelia permitted no soaring there except her own--is not home the woman's kingdom?--and perhaps it was thus that her boy learned a disregard for paternal advice and reproof which could not but irritate a man accustomed to guide and control in the outer world.

A boy! and his own. It would have been too humiliating to stoop to management there, especially with mischief-loving Amelia looking on; so he fell into a habit of commanding, and beating the boy when he transgressed.

The stick, however, is a sceptre little suited to the nineteenth century or the Western Continent. For the subjects of the Khedive it is manifestly just the thing. The people understand it, and the more vigorously it is applied the happier are the results--for the State at least. But then His Highness is generous even to prodigality in administering the State medicine, without stint or exception, and on every occasion. It is _Thorough_ which succeeds in Government. James II. was perfectly correct when he said that it was yielding which cost King Charles his head. It _was_ yielding, yielding after having attempted "thorough" without the strength or the daring to work it out. When the bad rider, inexpert with spur, whip, and bridle, strokes the steed's neck and says "poor fellow," softly and soothingly, depend upon it the horse understands the situation as well as his so-called master, and goes his own way. Conciliation, reparation--what you will--to noisy discontent, is a mistake of the same kind; the rider may borrow a handsome name for it from the doctrinaire, but he will not persuade the steed that anything but weakness or fright has wrung from him his pretty behaviour. So much we may gather from recent British history.

But the teller of this story may well leave British history to run its own course, and he craves pardon for his trespa.s.s. What he would testify against, in his small way, is historical inconsistency and hysterical interference, however well meant, with the sequence of events. See how a ship has to tack and turn when the wind changes, if she would continue her voyage; if the ship of state is merely to turn her helm and scud before an altered wind of popular feeling, without regard to whence she comes or whither she is bound, sooner or later she will find herself among the breakers, and on a lee sh.o.r.e.

Jordan had attempted the _fort.i.ter in re_ with his son, but not consistently, and especially not persistently. Indeed, like many another, he would have let the brat alone during his growing years, merely sending him out of the room when he was noisy, or tossing him silver in moments of paternal pride, for his thoughts were kept busy on other things; but the whelp acquired a trick of ensconsing himself behind his mother's gown and bidding defiance to the rightful lord of the manor, and then the latent savage, which is said still to survive in the most cultured, would break out, and nothing but blows and howls would appease him. On these occasions it was the lad's mother who brought fuel to inflame the father's wrath. It pleased her so much that her boy should come to her for protection in his troubles, and she was so pleasing a person herself--or the world said so, and she had got to think it--with her vivacity, her brightness, and her satiric smile, wherewith she could goad old Slow-coach to fury; and he being man enough, at least, to respect his wife, the fury glanced harmless past her and fell in stinging whacks on the poor little adventurer behind her, who had raised the storm. Yet even at his worst, Jordan could find nothing soul-satisfying in beating a small boy, and after a clout or two he would desist, with no harm done except to the young one's personal dignity and the resentment bred therefrom, and that was an evil not to be measured by the severity of the a.s.sault, but rather inversely. The lighter the correction the heavier the resentment and offence.

"If you _will_ whip a child," as I once heard an American lecturess say--she was a superior person who knew all about it, and had left her own seven lambs at home under the care of a hired help, while she went out into the world with her evangel of nursery tactics--"If you _will_ whip a child, _be sure you really hurt it!_" There must be tingle enough to overbear the indignation and resentment which the violence you are doing to its person will naturally arouse; you must whip enough to make it forget the outrage in the solid pain which it suffers. It is only then that you need expect to super-impose your own will upon that of the patient.

I suppose Jordan had never listened to the American lecturess, if he had, he did not lay the homily to heart. At any rate, he struck, when he might have managed quite as well without; and striking, he struck only enough to arouse in his son feelings of deeper rebellion than those which he undertook to quell; and thereafter a grudge and a suspicion came between the old man and the young, which perhaps the mother without any evil intent, but merely from loving to be first with her own son, his councillor and his friend, did more to aggravate than any one else.

Randolph went in search of Miss Rouget to secure his dance, but the young lady's card was filled up. She had kept a vacancy for him some time, but at length her mother sitting by, displeased at the young man's neglect, had made her fill it up with some one else, and now glanced at the offender with a somewhat stony reserve, which softened, however, when he approached herself, and prayed the honour of leading her to supper. On glancing round the company she could see no good reason why her host had not come forward in person to perform the office. "But then those English," as she told herself, "are so ignorant of the _convenances_." Again, the young man might be diffident in pursuit of his matrimonial aspirations, which was to his credit; and also, she was getting very tired where she sat. Her English was not fluent, and the French of the others was so indifferent, that few dared use the little they had, whence she had not been entertained with much conversation, and the smiling bows had grown monotonous.

Supper was the one recreation open to her, and as she looked, behold, her husband was leading the way with his hostess. So after all there was no ground of offence, and her features relaxed into their wonted graciousness as she joined the procession. The younger people continued to dance, and Randolph felt a little twinge of jealousy to see Muriel again dancing with Gerald. He was able to whisper to her in pa.s.sing, however, which was something, begging her to linger and let him take her to supper by-and-by. Madame ceased speaking just then, to some one on her other side, and claimed his attention by an observation, so that he failed to catch what Muriel said in reply.

Madame enjoyed her supper, as was fitting. She had earned it by hours of conscientious _chaperonage_, which had declined even the allurements of the neighbouring card-room. She was so fortunate too as to be placed near a gentleman who spoke French well, and now indemnified herself for the enforced silence under which she had been yawning so wearily. In the comings and goings, the risings and sittings down, of some going back to dance and others coming in to sup, a little circle of her intimates gathered round madame, and Randolph, no way averse, found himself merely a supernumerary on its outskirts. It was his opportunity; he availed himself of it, and stole back to look for Muriel among the dancers. He came upon her as she rested at the end of a dance, with still that same too constant Gerald in attendance.

"Now then, Miss Muriel," he cried; "if you are ready we will go at once. The dowagers are leaving the supper-room, and after this dance the musicians will take a rest, and there will be a crush of all the dancers coming in at once. If you are ready we will go."

Muriel looked up.

"Thanks for the information. Miss Muriel is going presently. We will get in ahead of those who are dancing now," said Gerald with a suppressed smile.

Randolph drew himself up just a little, and strove to look dignified while he ignored the last speaker. "Of course there is no need to hurry if you prefer to rest; but it is so much cooler in the supper-room; do you not think you will be better to come at once, Muriel?"

"I was just rising to go with Gerald Herkimer when you spoke."

"But I spoke some time ago--when I pa.s.sed you with Madame Rouget. You were dancing at the time."

"That was my dance, Muriel," interjected Gerald; "you promised then to let me take you to supper."

Randolph drew himself up to his tallest--he was two inches taller than Gerald--and turned his flushed face with all the dignity he could muster in it upon his offending friend. "I have only Miss Stanley to deal with in this matter, and I prefer to settle it with herself."

"Bosh! man. What is the use of your putting on grand airs with me?

Haven't we gone to school together? It isn't a bit of good your trying to play Don Fandango. If you like, we can go down to your back yard, take off our coats, and have it out with lists in the old way; but the people will be sure to laugh, and we shall look rather rumpled when we get back here. We are getting old for that sort of thing, besides.

Don't you see you have made a mistake somehow, and the young lady is engaged for supper to me?"

"I don't! and I won't! and I do----"

"Law, now! Mr. Jordan, ain't this just splendid? You are making up a party for supper, I see, and I am a hungry party that will be most pleased to join you;" and Randolph felt a fat arm slip through that arm of his own which he had been offering so pressingly to Muriel.

There was a vision of geranium-coloured poplin flapping against him, and when he looked round, behold, Miss Betsey had him in possession.

There was nothing for it but to submit and lead the way while the other two followed; even though a smothered "haw, haw," which he could hear behind him, filled his heart with fury, and made him long to face about and brain the offender on the spot. The natural man is a savage still, especially when his inclination to the fair is crossed; culture, good-manners, and white kid gloves notwithstanding.

Betsey was exuberant. Thanks to Muriel's efforts, she had danced and eaten ice with Randolph, and Gerald, and a good many more--danced almost continuously, and quite energetically--having, in her own words, "a real good time." And now she was a little hungry, but in overflowing spirits, as she trotted beside her tall cavalier, with her chin pressed into the dimpling redundancy of her short thick neck, where every line and crease seemed to vie with the parted lips in smiling content.

Randolph stalked gloomily by her side, realizing his helplessness, and resenting the amused glances which met him as he proceeded. But what could he do? He could only submit, and get through with the interlude as quickly as possible. He was lucky enough to find a small table vacant in a retired corner of the supper-room, where he placed himself and his little companion, ignoring tugs and nods and pointings to more conspicuous places, where the lights would have shone brighter on her beauty and her revelry--which were just the things he wished to keep out of sight. Betsey had the best of everything to eat, however, which was compensatory, and her companion had at least the satisfaction of sitting opposite Muriel. He had secured them for the rest of his own table, and if he was unable to say much to her himself, it was something to have prevented a _tete-a-tete_ with his rival.

Randolph's disturbed feelings were subsiding into sullen calm. He was eating his supper. He had filled his companion's gla.s.s and his own; and Betsey, smiling to pledge him, held her foaming goblet in her hand awaiting his answering glance, when a sombre body--the back and shoulders of a man's coat--interposed itself between them.

"Jordan! Here you are at last," it said. It was only a man's coat, so far as Betsey could see, intruding most impertinently between herself and her _beau_. "I have been looking for you everywhere. Now I have found you. Madame Rouget has done supper, and is waiting for you to go back to the dancing-room."

Betsey made a little gulp of indignation; but no one perceived it, or seemed to heed her. Randolph rose like a truant returning to school, led away by the man in the coat; and she, poor Betsey! was left--lamenting? No--finishing her supper. She held her gla.s.s across to Gerald for a little more champagne, and thereby tacitly placed herself under his protection for the rest of the meal. There was much natural adaptability to circ.u.mstances in Betsey, notwithstanding her too evident lack of polish. Like the celebrated brook, she went tranquilly forward, however "men might come, or men might go," in a consistent following out of what seemed the attainably best for herself. With opportunity and culture Betsey might have gone far.

Madame Rouget rose at Randolph's approach, and took his arm to leave the room. She showed no displeasure or cognisance of his desertion, but there was a distinct refrigeration of the graciousness with which she had accepted his escort to the supper-table half-an-hour before.

In leaving the room they were stopped for an instant in front of the little table which Randolph had risen from. Madame lifted her eye-gla.s.s just where geranium-coloured poplin made the feature of the view, and its wearer in much comfort held a wine-gla.s.s to her lips, smiling across to Gerald Herkimer, a modernized suggestion of one of Jourdain's carousing beauties, though with the flesh tints far less delicately rendered. She dropped the eye-gla.s.s with a click, and a French shrug, and that accompanying rise of the eyebrows so infinitely more expressive of scorn and contempt than any word.

"I am _desolee_, to have take Mistaire Jordain from ze plaisirs of his soopaire. But ze demoiselle aippears herself to console ver well. Wich ra.s.sure me ver much."

Madame must certainly have been indignant when she used these words, for, when quite herself, her English was grammatically correct enough if the vocabulary was restricted and a word was sometimes used in a wrong sense. It is a woman's right to take offence at the _formam spretam_ by a suitor, and if the form despised be her daughter's instead of her own, she can resent it with even better grace.

Not long after, Mr. Jordan senior came upon Mr. Rouget leaving the card-room, and expressed a hope that he had been able to amuse himself.

"I have not the good fortunes at cards this evening," that gentleman replied; "I have won nothing; lost, rather, I fear."

"So sorry; come have a gla.s.s of wine, and perhaps the luck may turn."

"_N'importe_, I shall play no more to-night. The fortunes are not _propices_. My _systeme_ does not conform to the play of Mistaire--what you call?--Constantine."

"Considine. Probably not. He generally plays euchre. You were playing whist. Liable to trump his partner's best card. I know his weakness.

Let me find you some one else."

"I thank you. No. It grows late. I go in search of madame. _M'sieur_ himself does not succeed well in the little plan he did me the honour to propose--to ally our families. I observe M'sieur Randolphe withholds the--what you say?--the _pet.i.ts soins_ which aire of custom when a gentleman pretends to the hand of a demoiselle. _N'importe_, I accept the excuses of m'sieur without saying. One knows the authority of father counts for nothing with you English; but the more should have been an understanding before to approach me."

"My dear sir," Jordan began deprecatingly; but the other raised his hand in dignified protest.

"Enough. I make no reproach--_N'importe_. My good brother, the ministre, has views. We will forget."

"My dear Mr. Rouget--I beg!--I will even admit that you have ground of offence, but pray take into account the waywardness of a head-strong youth who resents being dictated to, and fancies he should decide his own movements. Still, I must say for him, the boy really is steady, and a good lad; and that, you will allow, is a qualification not always to be met with among the eligible young men of the present day.

The mortgage upon La Hache would be a nice provision for the young people, would save you from the possibility of instalments falling due at inconvenient times, and I think--though perhaps I am too nearly related to be an impartial judge--the lad has parts, and would not discredit the Honourable the Minister of Drainage and Irrigation either in politics or the public service. He has been bred to the law, as perhaps you know, and pa.s.sed his examinations with distinction."

M. Rouget bowed his head and allowed the look of displeasure to relax upon his countenance. He was most willing to push forward the matrimonial scheme, though naturally, as being the weaker party, it behoved him to keep that fact to himself, and to be ready, at the first sign of backwardness on the other side, to feign offended dignity, that he might be able to withdraw from the fruitless negotiation with the honours of war.

They were now leaving the supper-room together, and Considine approached just as the Frenchman walked forward alone in search of his ladies.

"At last," thought Considine, "I shall catch Jordan alone, and get over that talk I have been so long wanting to have with him;" and he pressed his breast pocket to make sure of the doc.u.ments he had carried about so long, in hopes of catching the busy man in a moment of leisure. Jordan noticed the movement, and was defensively on the alert at once.

"Considine, old fellow! Not dancing?"

"My dancing days are over. But I say, Jordan, I wish you would give me just a few minutes quiet----"

"Over? What an idea! The springiest man of our set! Without the first sign of either gout or rheumatism! And you would give up dancing, and ticket yourself a fogy before your time? No! no! Couldn't think of it.

Yonder are a score of ladies, all your friends, sitting down after supper, and waiting to be asked to dance. Every woman likes to be danced with after supper, if only to show the world that men don't look upon her as too old. Come along! Let me find you a partner, though you know every one here."