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"What have you been saying to him? I won't have you walk with Ontario Moggs. I and your mother 'll have to fall out if this kind of thing goes on."
"Don't be silly, father."
"What do you mean by that, miss?"
"It is silly. Why shouldn't I walk with him? Haven't I known him all my life, and walked with him scores of times? Isn't it silly, father?
Don't I know that if I told you I loved Ontario Moggs, you'd let me marry him to-morrow?"
"He'd have to take you in what you stand up in."
"He wouldn't desire anything better. I'll say that for him. He's true and honest. I'd love him if I could,--only, somehow I don't."
"You've told him you didn't,--once and for all?"
"I don't know about that, father. He'll come again, you may be sure. He's one of that sort that isn't easily said nay to. If you mean,--have I said yes?--I haven't. I'll never say yes to any man unless I love him. When I do say it I shall mean it,--whether it's Onty Moggs or anybody else. I'm not going to be given away, you know, like a birthday present, out of a shop. There's n.o.body can give me away, father,--only myself." To all which utterances of a rebellious spirit the breeches-maker made no answer. He knew that Polly would, at least, be true to him; and, as she was as yet free, the field was still open to his candidate. He believed thoroughly that had not his wife interfered, and asked the bootmaker to join that unfortunate dinner party, his daughter and Ralph Newton would now have been engaged together. And probably it might have been so. When first it had been whispered to Polly that that handsome and very agreeable young gentleman, Mr. Ralph Newton, might become a suitor for her hand, she had chucked up her head and declared to her mother that she didn't intend to take a husband of her father's choosing; but as she came to know Ralph a little, she did find that he was good-looking and agreeable,--and her heart did flutter at the idea of becoming the wife of a real, undoubted gentleman. She meant to have her grand pa.s.sion, and she must be quite sure that Mr. Newton loved her. But she didn't see any reason why Mr. Newton shouldn't love her, and, upon the whole, she was inclined to obey her father rather than to disobey him. And it might still be that he should win her;--for he had done nothing to disgrace himself in her sight. But there did lurk within her bosom some dim idea that he should have bestirred himself more thoroughly on that Sunday evening, and not have allowed himself to be driven out of the field by Ontario Moggs. She wronged him there, as indeed he had had no alternative, unless he had followed her up to her bedroom.
Mr. Neefit, when he found that no harm had as yet been done, resolved that he would return to the charge. It has been before observed that he lacked something in delicacy, but what he did so lack he made up in persistency. He had been unable to impute any blame to Ralph as to that evening. He felt that he rather owed an apology to his favourite candidate. He would make the apology, and inform the favourite candidate, at the same time, that the course was still open to him.
With these views he left Conduit Street early on the Wednesday morning, and called on Ralph at his rooms. "Mr. Newton," he said, hastening at once upon the grand subject, "I hope you didn't think as I was to blame in having Moggs at our little dinner on Sunday." Ralph declared that he had never thought of imputing blame to any one. "But it was,--as awk'ard as awk'ard could be. It was my wife's doing. Of course you can see how it all is. That chap has been hankering after Polly ever since she was in her teens. But, Lord love you, Captain, he ain't a chance with her. He was there again o' Monday, but the girl wouldn't have a word to say to him." Ralph sat silent, and very grave. He was taken now somewhat by surprise, having felt, up to this moment, that he would at least have the advantage of a further interview with Sir Thomas, before he need say another word to Mr.
Neefit. "What I want you to do, Captain, is just to pop it, straight off, to my girl. I know she'd take you, because of her way of looking. Not, mind, that she ever said so. Oh, no. But the way to find out is just to ask the question."
"You see, Mr. Neefit, it wasn't very easy to ask it last Sunday,"
said Ralph, attempting to laugh.
"Moggs has been at her again," said Neefit. This argument was good. Had Ralph been as anxious as Moggs, he would have made his opportunity.
"And, to tell you the truth, Mr. Neefit--"
"Well, sir?"
"There is nothing so disagreeable as interfering in families. I admire your daughter amazingly."
"She's a trump, Mr. Newton."
"She is indeed;--and I thoroughly appreciate the great generosity of your offer."
"I'll be as good as my word, Mr. Newton. The money shall be all there,--down on the nail."
"But, you see, your wife is against me."
"Blow my wife. You don't think Polly 'd do what her mother tells her?
Who's got the money-bag? That's the question. You go down and pop it straight. You ain't afraid of an old woman, I suppose;--nor yet of a young un. Don't mind waiting for more dinners, or anything of that kind. They likes a man to be hot about it;--that's what they likes.
You're sure to find her any time before dinner;--that's at one, you know. May be she mayn't be figged out fine, but you won't mind that.
I'll go bail you'll find the flesh and blood all right. Just you make your way in, and say what you've got to say. I'll make it straight with the old woman afterwards."
Ralph Newton had hitherto rather prided himself on his happy management of young ladies. He was not ordinarily much afflicted by shyness, and conceived himself able to declare a pa.s.sion, perhaps whether felt or feigned, as well as another. And now he was being taught how to go a-wooing by his breeches-maker! He did not altogether like it, and, as at this moment his mind was rather set against the Hendon matrimonial speculation, he was disposed to resent it. "I think you're making a little mistake, Mr. Neefit," he said.
"What mistake? I don't know as I'm making any mistake. You'll be making a mistake, and so you'll find when the plum's gone."
"It's just this, you know. When you suggested this thing to me--"
"Well;--yes; I did suggest it, and I ain't ashamed of it."
"I was awfully grateful. I had met your daughter once or twice, and I told you I admired her ever so much."
"That's true;--but you didn't admire her a bit more than what she's ent.i.tled to."
"I'm sure of that. But then I thought I ought,--just to,--know her a little better, you see. And then how could I presume to think she'd take me till she knew me a little better?"
"Presume to think! Is that all you know about young women? Pop the question right out, and give her a buss. That's the way."
Newton paused a moment before he spoke, and looked very grave. "I think you're driving me a little too fast, Mr. Neefit," he said at last.
"The deuce I am! Driving you too fast. What does that mean?"
"There must be a little management and deliberation in these things.
If I were to do as you propose, I should not recommend myself to your daughter; and I should myself feel that, at the most important crisis of my life, I was allowing myself to be hurried beyond my judgment."
These words were spoken with a slow solemnity of demeanour, and a tone of voice so serious that for a moment they perfectly awed the breeches-maker. Ralph was almost successful in reducing his proposed father-in-law to a state of absolute subjection. Mr. Neefit was all but induced to forget that he stood there with twenty thousand pounds in his pocket. There came a drop or two of perspiration on his brow, and his large saucer eyes almost quailed before those of his debtor.
But at last he rallied himself,--though not entirely. He could not quite a.s.sume that self-a.s.sertion which he knew that his position would have warranted; but he did keep his flag up after a fashion.
"I dare say you know your own business best, Mr. Newton;--only them's not my ideas; that's all. I come to you fair and honest, and I repeats the same. Good morning, Mr. Newton." So he went, and nothing had been settled.
To say that Ralph had even yet made up his mind would be to give him praise which was not his due. He was still doubting, though in his doubts the idea of marrying Polly Neefit became more indistinct, and less alluring than ever. By this time he almost hated Mr. Neefit, and most unjustly regarded that man as a persecutor, who was taking advantage of his pecuniary ascendancy to trample on him. "He thinks I must take his daughter because I owe him two or three hundred pounds." Such were Ralph Newton's thoughts about the breeches-maker,--which thoughts were very unjust. Neefit was certainly vulgar, illiterate, and indelicate; but he was a man who could do a generous action, and having offered his daughter to this young aristocrat would have scorned to trouble him afterwards about his "little bill." Ralph sat trying to think for about an hour, and then walked to Southampton Buildings. He had not much hope as he went. Indeed hope hardly entered into his feelings. Sir Thomas would of course say unpleasant words to him, and of course he would be unable to answer them. There was no ground for hoping anything,--unless indeed he could make himself happy in a snug little box in a hunting country, with Polly Neefit for his wife, living on the interest of the breeches-maker's money. He was quite alive to the fact that in this position he would in truth be the most miserable dog in existence,--that it would be infinitely better for him to turn his prospects into cash, and buy sheep in Australia, or cattle in South America, or to grow corn in Canada. Any life would be better than one supported in comfortable idleness on Mr. Neefit's savings.
Nevertheless he felt that that would most probably be his doom. The sheep or the cattle or the corn required an amount of energy which he no longer possessed. There were the four horses at the Moonbeam;--and he could ride them to hounds as well as any man. So much he could do, and would seem in doing it to be full of life. But as for selling the four horses, and changing altogether the mode of his life,--that was more than he had vitality left to perform. Such was the measure which he took of himself, and in taking it he despised himself thoroughly,--knowing well how poor a creature he was.
Sir Thomas told him readily what he had done, giving him to read a copy of his letter to Mr. Newton and Mr. Newton's reply. "I can do nothing more," said Sir Thomas. "I hope you have given up the sad notion of marrying that young woman." Ralph sat still and listened.
"No good, I think, can come of that," continued Sir Thomas. "If you are in truth compelled to part with your reversion to the Newton estate,--which is in itself a property of great value,--I do not doubt but your uncle will purchase it at its worth. It is a thousand pities that prospects so n.o.ble should have been dissipated by early imprudence."
"That's quite true, Sir Thomas," said Ralph, in a loud ringing tone, which seemed to imply that let things be as bad as they might he did not mean to make a poor mouth of them. It was his mask for the occasion, and it sufficed to hide his misery from Sir Thomas.
"If you think of selling what you have to sell," continued Sir Thomas, "you had better take Mr. Newton's letter and put it into the hands of your own attorney. It will be ten times better than going to the money-lending companies for advances. If I had the means of helping you myself, I would do it."
"Oh, Sir Thomas!"
"But I have not. I should be robbing my own girls, which I am sure you would not wish."
"That is quite out of the question, Sir Thomas."
"If you do resolve on selling the estate, you had better come to me as the thing goes on. I can't do much, but I may perhaps be able to see that nothing improper is proposed for you to do. Goodbye, Ralph.
Anything will be better than marrying that what-d'ye-callem's daughter."
Ralph, as he walked westwards towards the club, was by no means sure that Sir Thomas had been right in this. By marrying Polly he would, after all, keep the property.
Just by the lions in Trafalgar Square he met Ontario Moggs. Ontario Moggs scowled at him, and cut him dead.
CHAPTER XIV.
THE REV. GREGORY NEWTON.