Miss Mackenzie Part 12

"No, it does not."

"And it does not mean that there is anyone else whom you are thinking of marrying?"

"I am not thinking of marrying anyone."

"Or that you love any other man?"

"You are cross-questioning me, aunt, more than is fair."

"Then there is some one?"

"No, there is n.o.body. What I say about John I don't say through any feeling for anybody else."

"Then, my dear, I think that a little talk between you and me may make this matter all right. I'm sure you don't doubt John when he says that he loves you very dearly. As for your loving him, of course that would come. It is not as if you two were two young people, and that you wanted to be billing and cooing. Of course you ought to be fond of each other, and like each other's company; and I have no doubt that you will. You and I would, of course, be thrown very much together, and I'm sure I'm very fond of you. Indeed, Margaret, I have endeavoured to show that I am."

"You've been very kind, aunt."

"Therefore as to your loving him, I really don't think there need be any doubt about that. Then, my dear, as to the other part of the arrangement,--the money and all that. If you were to have any children, your own fortune would be settled on them; at least, that could be arranged, if you required it; though, as your fortune all came from the b.a.l.l.s, and is the very money with which the t.i.tle was intended to be maintained, you probably would not be very exacting about that. Stop a moment, my dear, and let me finish before you speak. I want you particularly to think of what I say, and to remember that all your money did come from the b.a.l.l.s. It has been very hard upon John,--you must feel that. Look at him with his heavy family, and how he works for them!"

"But my uncle Jonathan died and left his money to my brothers before John was married. It is twenty-five years ago."

"Well I remember it, my dear! John was just engaged to Rachel, and the marriage was put off because of the great cruelty of Jonathan's will. Of course I am not blaming you."

"I was only ten years old, and uncle Jonathan did not leave me a penny. My money came to me from my brother; and, as far as I can understand, it is nearly double as much as he got from Sir John's brother."

"That may be; but John would have doubled it quite as readily as Walter Mackenzie. What I mean to say is this, that as you have the money which in the course of nature would have come to John, and which would have been his now if a great injustice had not been done--"

"It was done by a Ball, and not by a Mackenzie."

"That does not alter the case in the least. Your feelings should be just the same in spite of that. Of course the money is yours and you can do what you like with it. You can give it to young Mr Samuel Rubb, if you please." Stupid old woman! "But I think you must feel that you should repair the injury which was done, as it is in your power to do so. A fine position is offered you. When poor Sir John goes, you will become Lady Ball, and be the mistress of this house, and have your own carriage." Terribly stupid old woman! "And you would have friends and relatives always round you, instead of being all alone at such a place as Littlebath, which must, I should say, be very sad. Of course there would be duties to perform to the dear children; but I don't think so ill of you, Margaret, as to suppose for an instant that you would shrink from that. Stop one moment, my dear, and I shall have done. I think I have said all now; but I can well understand that when John spoke to you, you could not immediately give him a favourable answer. It was much better to leave it till to-morrow. But you can't have any objection to speaking out to me, and I really think you might make me happy by saying that it shall be as I wish."

It is astonishing the harm that an old woman may do when she goes well to work, and when she believes she can prevail by means of her own peculiar eloquence. Lady Ball had so trusted to her own prestige, to her own ladyship, to her own carriage and horses, and to the rest of it, and had also so misjudged Margaret's ordinary mild manner, that she had thought to force her niece into an immediate acquiescence by her mere words. The result, however, was exactly the contrary to this. Had Miss Mackenzie been left to herself after the interview with Mr Ball: had she gone upstairs to sleep upon his proposal, without any disturbance to those visions of sacrificial duty which his plain statement had produced: had she been allowed to leave the house and think over it all without any other argument to her than those which he had used, I think that she would have accepted him. But now she was up in arms against the whole thing.

Her mind, clear as it was, was hardly lucid enough to allow of her separating the mother and son at this moment. She was claimed as a wife into the family because they thought that they had a right to her fortune; and the temptations offered, by which they hoped to draw her into her duty, were a beggarly t.i.tle and an old coach! No!

The visions of sacrificial duty were all dispelled. There was doubt before, but now there was no doubt.

"I think I will go to bed, aunt," she said very calmly, "and I will write to John from Littlebath."

"And cannot you put me out of my suspense?"

"If you wish it, yes. I know that I must refuse him. I wish that I had told him so at once, as then there would have been an end of it."

"You don't mean that you have made up your mind?"

"Yes, aunt, I do. I should be wrong to marry a man that I do not love; and as for the money, aunt, I must say that I think you are mistaken."

"How mistaken?"

"You think that I am called upon to put right some wrong that you think was done you by Sir John's brother. I don't think that I am under any such obligation. Uncle Jonathan left his money to his sister's children instead of to his brother's children. If his money had come to John, you would not have admitted that we had any claim, because we were nephews and nieces."

"The whole thing would have been different."

"Well, aunt, I am very tired, and if you'll let me, I'll go to bed."

"Oh, certainly."

Then, with anything but warm affection, the aunt and niece parted, and Miss Mackenzie went to her bed with a firm resolution that she would not become Lady Ball.

It had been arranged for some time back that Mr Ball was to accompany his cousin up to London by the train; and though under the present circ.u.mstances that arrangement was not without a certain amount of inconvenience, there was no excuse at hand for changing it. Not a word was said at breakfast as to the scenes of last night. Indeed, no word could very well have been said, as all the family was present, including Jack and the girls. Lady Ball was very quiet, and very dignified; but Miss Mackenzie perceived that she was always called "Margaret," and not "my dear," as had been her aunt's custom. Very little was said by any one, and not a great deal was eaten.

"Well; when are we to see you back again?" said Sir John, as Margaret arose from her chair on being told that the carriage was there.

"Perhaps you and my aunt will come down some day and see me at Littlebath?" said Miss Mackenzie.

"No; I don't think that's very likely," said Sir John.

Then she kissed all the children, till she came to Jack.

"I am going to kiss you, too," she said to him.

"No objection in life," said Jack. "I sha'n't complain about that."

"You'll come and see me at Littlebath?" said she.

"That I will if you'll ask me."

Then she put her face to her aunt, and Lady Ball permitted her cheek to be touched. Lady Ball was still not without hope, but she thought that the surest way was to a.s.sume a high dignity of demeanour, and to exhibit a certain amount of displeasure. She still believed that Margaret might be frightened into the match. It was but a mile and a half to the station, and for that distance Mr Ball and Margaret sat together in the carriage. He said nothing to her as to his proposal till the station was in view, and then only a word.

"Think well of it, Margaret, if you can."

"I fear I cannot think well of it," she answered. But she spoke so low, that I doubt whether he completely heard her words. The train up to London was nearly full, and there he had no opportunity of speaking to her. But he desired no such opportunity. He had said all that he had to say, and was almost well pleased to know that a final answer was to be given to him, not personally, but by letter. His mother had spoken to him that morning, and had made him understand that she was not well pleased with Margaret; but she had said nothing to quench her son's hopes.

"Of course she will accept you," Lady Ball had said, "but women like her never like to do anything without making a fuss about it."

"To me, yesterday, I thought she behaved admirably," said her son.

At the station at London he put her into the cab that was to take her to Gower Street, and as he shook hands with her through the window, he once more said the same words:

"Think well of it, Margaret, if you can."

CHAPTER VIII

Mrs Tom Mackenzie's Dinner Party

Mrs Tom was ever so gracious on the arrival of her sister-in-law, but even in her graciousness there was something which seemed to Margaret to tell of her dislike. Near relatives, when they are on good terms with each other, are not gracious. Now, Mrs Tom, though she was ever so gracious, was by no means cordial. Susanna, however, was delighted to see her aunt, and Margaret, when she felt the girl's arms round her neck, declared to herself that that should suffice for her,--that should be her love, and it should be enough. If indeed, in after years, she could make Jack love her too, that would be better still.

Then her mind went to work upon a little marriage scheme that would in due time make a baronet's wife of Susanna. It would not suit her to become Lady Ball, but it might suit Susanna.