Henrietta Temple Part 3

'This is London: but we have yet two or three miles to go before we reach our quarters. I think we had better alight and look after our luggage. Gentlemen, good evening!'

Mr. Glas...o...b..ry hailed a coach, into which, having safely deposited their portmanteaus, he and Ferdinand entered; but our young friend was so entirely overcome by his feelings and the genius of the place, that he was quite unable to make an observation. Each minute the streets seemed to grow more s.p.a.cious and more brilliant, and the mult.i.tude more dense and more excited. Beautiful buildings, too, rose before him; palaces, and churches, and streets, and squares of imposing architecture; to his inexperienced eye and unsophisticated spirit their route appeared a never-ending triumph. To the hackney-coachman, however, who had no imagination, and who was quite satiated with metropolitan experience, it only appeared that he had had an exceeding good fare, and that he was jogging up from Bishopsgate Street to Charing Cross.

When Jarvis, therefore, had safely deposited his charge at Morley's Hotel, in c.o.c.kspur Street, and extorted from them an extra shilling, in consideration of their evident rustication, he bent his course towards the Opera House; for clouds were gathering, and, with the favour of Providence, there seemed a chance about midnight of picking up some helpless beau, or desperate cabless dandy, the choicest victim, in a midnight shower, of these public conveyancers.

The coffee-room at Morley's was a new scene of amus.e.m.e.nt to Ferdinand, and he watched with great diversion the two evening papers portioned out among twelve eager quidnuncs, and the evident anxiety which they endured, and the nice diplomacies to which they resorted, to obtain the envied journals. The entrance of our two travellers so alarmingly increasing the demand over the supply, at first seemed to attract considerable and not very friendly notice; but when a malignant half-pay officer, in order to revenge himself for the restless watchfulness of his neighbour, a political doctor of divinity, offered the journal, which he had long finished, to Glas...o...b..ry, and it was declined, the general alarm visibly diminished. Poor Mr. Glas...o...b..ry had never looked into a newspaper in his life, save the County Chronicle, to which he occasionally contributed a communication, giving an account of the digging up of some old coins, signed Antiquarius; or of the exhumation of some fossil remains, to which he more boldly appended his initials.

In spite of the strange clatter in the streets, Ferdinand slept well, and the next morning, after an early breakfast, himself and his fellow-traveller set out on their peregrinations. Young and sanguine, full of health and enjoyment, innocent and happy, it was with difficulty that Ferdinand could restrain his spirits as he mingled in the bustle of the streets. It was a bright sunny morning, and although the end of June, the town was yet quite full.

'Is this Charing Cross, sir? I wonder if we shall ever be able to get over. Is this the fullest part of the town, sir? What a fine day, sir!

How lucky we are in the weather! We are lucky in everything! Whose house is that? Northumberland House! Is it the Duke of Northumberland's? Does he live there? How I should like to see it! Is it very fine? Who is that? What is this? The Admiralty; oh! let me see the Admiralty! The Horse Guards! Oh! where, where? Let us set our watches by the Horse Guards. The guard of our coach always sets his watch by the Horse Guards. Mr. Glas...o...b..ry, which is the best clock, the Horse Guards, or St. Paul's? Is that the Treasury? Can we go in? That is Downing Street, is it? I never heard of Downing Street. What do they do in Downing Street? Is this Charing Cross still, or is it Parliament Street? Where does Charing Cross end, and where does Parliament Street begin? By Jove, I see Westminster Abbey!'

After visiting Westminster Abbey and the two Houses of Parliament, Mr.

Glas...o...b..ry, looking at his watch, said it was now time to call upon a friend of his who lived in St. James's Square. This was the n.o.bleman with whom early in life Glas...o...b..ry had been connected, and with whom and whose family he had become so great a favourite, that, notwithstanding his retired life, they had never permitted the connexion entirely to subside. During the very few visits which he had made to the metropolis, he always called in St. James's Square and his reception always a.s.sured him that his remembrance imparted pleasure.

When Glas...o...b..ry sent up his name he was instantly admitted, and ushered up stairs. The room was full, but it consisted only of a family party.

The mother of the Duke, who was an interesting personage, with fine grey hair, a clear blue eye, and a soft voice, was surrounded by her great-grandchildren, who were at home for the Midsummer holidays, and who had gathered together at her rooms this morning to consult upon amus.e.m.e.nts. Among them was the heir presumptive of the house, a youth of the age of Ferdinand, and of a prepossessing appearance. It was difficult to meet a more amiable and agreeable family, and nothing could exceed the kindness with which they all welcomed Glas...o...b..ry. The Duke himself soon appeared. 'My dear, dear Glas...o...b..ry,' he said, 'I heard you were here, and I would come. This shall be a holiday for us all.

Why, man, you bury yourself alive!'

'Mr. Armine,' said the d.u.c.h.ess, pointing to Ferdinand.

'Mr. Armine, how do you do? Your grandfather and I were well acquainted.

I am glad to know his grandson. I hope your father, Sir Ratcliffe, and Lady Armine are well. My dear Glas...o...b..ry, I hope you have come to stay a long time. You must dine with us every day. You know we are very old-fashioned people; we do not go much into the world; so you will always find us at home, and we will do what we can to amuse your young friend. Why, I should think he was about the same age as Digby? Is he at Eton? His grandfather was. I shall never forget the time he cut off old Barnard's pig-tail. He was a wonderful man, poor Sir Ferdinand! he was indeed.'

While his Grace and Glas...o...b..ry maintained their conversation, Ferdinand conducted himself with so much spirit and propriety towards the rest of the party, and gave them such a lively and graceful narrative of all his travels up to town, and the wonders he had already witnessed, that they were quite delighted with him; and, in short, from this moment, during his visit to London he was scarcely ever out of their society, and every day became a greater favourite with them. His letters to his mother, for he wrote to her almost every day, recounted all their successful efforts for his amus.e.m.e.nt, and it seemed that he pa.s.sed his mornings in a round of sight-seeing, and that he went to the play every night of his life.

Perhaps there never existed a human being who at this moment more thoroughly enjoyed life than Ferdinand Armine.

In the meantime, while he thought only of amus.e.m.e.nt, Mr. Glas...o...b..ry was not inattentive to his more important interests; for the truth is that this excellent man had introduced him to the family only with the hope of interesting the feelings of the Duke in his behalf. His Grace was a man of a generous disposition. He sympathised with the recital of Glas...o...b..ry as he detailed to him the unfortunate situation of this youth, sprung from so ill.u.s.trious a lineage, and yet cut off by a combination of unhappy circ.u.mstances from almost all those natural sources whence he might have expected support and countenance. And when Glas...o...b..ry, seeing that the Duke's heart was moved, added that all he required for him, Ferdinand, was a commission in the army, for which his parents were prepared to advance the money, his Grace instantly declared that he would exert all his influence to obtain their purpose.

Mr. Glas...o...b..ry was, therefore, more gratified than surprised when, a few days after the conversation which we have mentioned, his n.o.ble friend informed him, with a smile, that he believed all might be arranged, provided his young charge could make it convenient to quit England at once. A vacancy had unexpectedly occurred in a regiment just ordered to Malta, and an ensigncy had been promised to Ferdinand Armine.

Mr. Glas...o...b..ry gratefully closed with the offer. He sacrificed a fourth part of his moderate independence in the purchase of the commission and the outfit of his young friend, and had the supreme satisfaction, ere the third week of their visit was completed, of forwarding a Gazette to Armine, containing the appointment of Ferdinand Armine as Ensign in the Royal Fusiliers.

CHAPTER VIII.

_A Visit to Glas...o...b..ry's Chamber_.

IT WAS arranged that Ferdinand should join his regiment by the next Mediterranean packet, which was not to quit Falmouth for a fortnight.

Glas...o...b..ry and himself, therefore, lost no time in bidding adieu to their kind friends in London, and hastening to Armine. They arrived the day after the Gazette. They found Sir Ratcliffe waiting for them at the town, and the fond smile and cordial embrace with which he greeted Glas...o...b..ry more than repaid that good man for all his exertions. There was, notwithstanding, a perceptible degree of constraint both on the part of the baronet and his former tutor. It was evident that Sir Ratcliffe had something on his mind of which he wished to disburden himself; and it was equally apparent that Glas...o...b..ry was unwilling to afford him an opportunity. Under these rather awkward circ.u.mstances, it was perhaps fortunate that Ferdinand talked without ceasing, giving his father an account of all he had seen, done, and heard, and of all the friends he had made, from the good Duke of-----to that capital fellow, the guard of the coach.

They were at the park gates: Lady Armine was there to meet them. The carriage stopped; Ferdinand jumped out and embraced his mother.

She kissed him, and ran forward and extended both her hands to Mr.

Glas...o...b..ry. 'Deeds, not words, must show our feelings,' she said, and the tears glittered in her beautiful eyes; Glas...o...b..ry, with a blush, pressed her hand to his lips. After dinner, during which Ferdinand recounted all his adventures, Lady Armine invited him, when she rose, to walk with her in the garden. It was then, with an air of considerable confusion, clearing his throat, and filling his gla.s.s at the same time, that Sir Ratcliffe said to his remaining guest,

'My dear Glas...o...b..ry, you cannot suppose that I believe that the days of magic have returned. This commission, both Constance and myself feel, that is, we are certain, that you are at the bottom of it all. The commission is purchased. I could not expect the Duke, deeply as I feel his generous kindness, to purchase a commission for my son: I could not permit it. No! Glas...o...b..ry,' and here Sir Ratcliffe became more animated, '_you_ could not permit it, my honour is safe in your hands?'

Sir Ratcliffe paused for a reply.

'On that score my conscience is clear,' replied Glas...o...b..ry.

'It is, then,--it must be then as I suspect,' rejoined Sir Ratcliffe. 'I am your debtor for this great service.'

'It is easy to count your obligations to me,' said Glas...o...b..ry, 'but mine to you and yours are incalculable.'

'My dear Glas...o...b..ry,' said Sir Ratcliffe, pushing his gla.s.s away as he rose from his seat and walked up and down the room, 'I may be proud, but I have no pride for you, I owe you too much; indeed, my dear friend, there is nothing that I would not accept from you, were it in your power to grant what you would desire. It is not pride, my dear Glas...o...b..ry; do not mistake me; it is not pride that prompts this explanation; but--but--had I your command of language I would explain myself more readily; but the truth is, I--I--I cannot permit that you should suffer for us, Glas...o...b..ry, I cannot indeed.'

Mr. Glas...o...b..ry looked at Sir Ratcliffe steadily; then rising from his seat he took the baronet's arm, and without saying a word walked slowly towards the gates of the castle where he lodged, and which we have before described. When he had reached the steps of the tower he withdrew his arm, and saying, 'Let me be pioneer,' invited Sir Ratcliffe to follow him. They accordingly entered his chamber.

It was a small room lined with shelves of books, except in one spot, where was suspended a portrait of Lady Barbara, which she had bequeathed him in her will. The floor was covered with so many boxes and cases that it was not very easy to steer a course when you had entered.

Glas...o...b..ry, however, beckoned to his companion to seat himself in one of his two chairs, while he unlocked a small cabinet, from a drawer of which he brought forth a paper.

'It is my will,' said Glas...o...b..ry, handing it to Sir Ratcliffe, who laid it down on the table.

'Nay, I wish you, my dear friend, to peruse it, for it concerns yourself.'

'I would rather learn its contents from yourself, if you positively desire me,' replied Sir Ratcliffe.

'I have left everything to our child,' said Glas...o...b..ry; for thus, when speaking to the father alone, he would often style the son.

'May it be long before he enjoys the 'bequest,' said Sir Ratcliffe, brushing away a tear; 'long, very long.'

'As the Almighty pleases,' said Glas...o...b..ry, crossing himself. 'But living or dead, I look upon all as Ferdinand's, and hold myself but the steward of his inheritance, which I will never abuse.'

'O! Glas...o...b..ry, no more of this I pray; you have wasted a precious life upon our forlorn race. Alas! how often and how keenly do I feel, that had it not been for the name of Armine your great talents and goodness might have gained for you an enviable portion of earthly felicity; yes, Glas...o...b..ry, you have sacrificed yourself to us.'

'Would that I could!' said the old man, with brightening eyes and an unaccustomed energy of manner. 'Would that I could! would that any act of mine, I care not what, could revive the fortunes of the house of Armine. Honoured for ever be the name, which with me is a.s.sociated with all that is great and glorious in man, and [here his voice faltered, and he turned away his face] exquisite and enchanting in woman!

'No, Ratcliffe,' he resumed, 'by the memory of one I cannot name, by that blessed and saintly being from whom you derive your life, you will not, you cannot deny this last favour I ask, I entreat, I supplicate you to accord me: me, who have ever eaten of your bread, and whom your roof hath ever shrouded!'

'My friend, I cannot speak,' said Sir Ratcliffe, throwing himself back in the chair and covering his face with his right hand; 'I know not what to say; I know not what to feel.'

Glas...o...b..ry advanced, and gently took his other hand. 'Dear Sir Ratcliffe,' he observed, in his usual calm, sweet voice, 'if I have erred you will pardon me. I did believe that, after my long and intimate connection with your house; after having for nearly forty years sympathised as deeply with all your fortunes as if, indeed, your n.o.ble blood flowed in these old veins; after having been honoured on your side with a friendship which has been the consolation and charm of my existence; indeed, too great a blessing; I did believe, more especially when I reminded myself of the unrestrained manner in which I had availed myself of the advantages of that friendship, I did believe, actuated by feelings which perhaps I cannot describe, and thoughts to which I cannot now give utterance, that I might venture, without offence, upon this slight service: ay, that the offering might be made in the spirit of most respectful affection, and not altogether be devoid of favour in your sight.'

'Excellent, kind-hearted man!' said Sir Ratcliffe, pressing the hand of Glas...o...b..ry in his own; 'I accept your offering in the spirit of perfect love. Believe me, dearest friend, it was no feeling of false pride that for a moment influenced me; I only felt-'

'That in venturing upon this humble service I deprived myself of some portion of my means of livelihood: you are mistaken. When I cast my lot at Armine I sank a portion of my capital on my life; so slender are my wants here, and so little does your dear lady permit me to desire, that, believe me, I have never yet expended upon myself this apportioned income; and as for the rest, it is, as you have seen, destined for our Ferdinand. Yet a little time and Adrian Glas...o...b..ry must be gathered to his fathers. Why, then, deprive him of the greatest gratification of his remaining years? the consciousness that, to be really serviceable to those he loves, it is not necessary for him to cease to exist.'

'May you never repent your devotion to our house!' said Sir Ratcliffe, rising from his seat. 'Time was we could give them who served us something better than thanks; but, at any rate, these come from the heart.'

CHAPTER IX.

_The Last Day and the Last Night_.

IN THE meantime, the approaching I departure of Ferdinand was the great topic of interest at Armine, It was settled that his father should accompany him to Falmouth, where he was to embark; and that they should pay a visit on their way to his grandfather, whose seat was situate in the west of England. This separation, now so near at hand, occasioned Lady Armine the deepest affliction; but she struggled to suppress her emotion. Yet often, while apparently busied with the common occupations of the day, the tears trickled down her cheek; and often she rose from her restless seat, while surrounded by those she loved, to seek the solitude of her chamber and indulge her overwhelming sorrow. Nor was Ferdinand less sensible of the bitterness of this separation. With all the excitement of his new prospects, and the feeling of approaching adventure and fancied independence, so flattering to inexperienced youth, he could not forget that his had been a very happy home. Nearly seventeen years of an innocent existence had pa.s.sed, undisturbed by a single bad pa.s.sion, and unsullied by a single action that he could regret. The river of his life had glided along, reflecting only a cloudless sky. But if he had been dutiful and happy, if at this moment of severe examination his conscience were serene, he could not but feel how much this enviable state of mind was to be attributed to those who had, as it were, imbued his life with love; whose never-varying affection had developed all the kindly feelings of his nature, had antic.i.p.ated all his wants, and listened to all his wishes; had a.s.sisted him in difficulty and guided him in doubt; had invited confidence by kindness, and deserved it by sympathy; had robbed instruction of all its labour, and discipline of all its harshness.