Roland Cashel Volume I Part 50

Corrigan, one of those saintly, virginal heads Raphael painted, with finely pencilled eyebrows, delicate beyond expression above; severe, in the cold, un-impa.s.sioned character of the mouth and lips; clever, too, or, what comes to nearly the same, odd and eccentric, being educated by an old St. Omer priest who taught her Latin, French, Italian, with a dash of theology, and, better than all, to sing Provencal songs to her own accompaniment on the piano.

You 'll say, with such companionship, Siberia is not so bad after all, nor would it, perhaps, if we had nothing else to think of. Besides, she is as proud as an Austrian archd.u.c.h.ess, has the blood of, G.o.d knows how many, kings-- Irish, of course--in her veins, and looks upon me, Saxon that I am, as a mountain-ash might do on a mushroom."

There was no erasure but one, and that very slight, and seeming unimportant; he had written Tubber-beg at the top of the letter, and, perceiving it, had changed it to Tubber-more, the fact being that he had already established himself as an inmate of the "Cottage," and a guest of Mr. Corrigan. We need not dwell on the arts by which Linton accomplished this object, to which, indeed, Mr. Corrigan's hospitable habits contributed no difficulty. The "doctor" alone could have interposed any obstacle; and he, knowing the extent of Linton's power, did not dare to do so, contenting himself to watch narrowly all his proceedings, and warn his friend whenever warning could no longer be delayed.

Without enjoying the advantages of a careful education, Linton's natural quickness counterfeited knowledge so well that few, in every-day intercourse, could detect the imposition. He never read a book through, but he skimmed some thousands, and was thoroughly familiar with that process so popular in our Universities, and technically termed "cramming" an author. In this way, there were few subjects on which he could not speak fairly,--a faculty to which considerable fluency and an easy play of fancy lent great a.s.sistance. His great craft, however, was--and whatever may be said on the subject, it would seem the peculiar gift of certain organizations--that he was able, in an inconceivably short time, to worm himself into the confidence of almost all with whom he came in contact. His natural good sense, his singularly clear views, his ever ready sympathy, but, more than all, the dexterity with which he could affect acquaintance with topics he was all but totally ignorant of, pointed him out as the very person to hear the secrets of a family.

Mr. Corrigan was not one to exact any great efforts of Linton's tact in this walk; his long isolation from the world, Joined to a character naturally frank, made him communicative and open; and before Linton had pa.s.sed a week under his roof, he had heard all the circ.u.mstances of the old forfeiture, and the traditionary belief of the family that it had been withdrawn under a special order of the King in council.

"You are quite right," said Linton, one night, as this theme bad been discussed for some hours, "never to have alluded to this in any correspondence with Cashel. His hasty and excitable temper would have construed the whole into a threat; and there is no saying how he might have resented it."

"I did not speak of it for a very different reason," said old Corrigan, proudly; "I had just accepted a favor--and a great one--at his hands, and I would not tarnish the l.u.s.tre of his n.o.ble conduct by even the possibility of self-interest."

Linton was silent; a struggle of some kind seemed working within him, but he did not speak, and at last sauntered from the room, and pa.s.sed out into the little garden in front.

He had not gone far, when he heard a light footstep on the gravel behind him. He turned, and saw Mary Leicester.

"I have followed you, Mr. Linton," said she, in a voice whose agitation was perceptible, "because I thought it possible that some time or other, in your close intimacy with Mr. Cashel, you might allude to this topic, and I know what distress such a communication would occasion to my grandfather. Our claim--if the word be not inapplicable--can never be revived; for myself, there is no condition of privation I would not rather meet, than encounter the hara.s.sing vicissitudes of a struggle which should embitter my poor dear grandfather's few years on earth. The very mention of the theme is sure to render him irritable and unhappy.

Promise me, then, to avoid the subject as much as possible here, and never to advert to it elsewhere."

"Should I not be doing you a gross injustice by such a pledge?" said Linton, mildly.

"I can endure that; I cannot support the alternative. Make me this promise."

"I make it, truly and solemnly; would it were in my power to pledge myself to aught of real service to Miss. Leicester."

"There is one such," said Mary, after a pause, "and yet I am ashamed to ask it,--ashamed of the presumption it would imply,--and yet I feel acquitted to my own heart."

"What is it?--only tell me how I can serve you," said Linton, pa.s.sionately.

"I have scarce courage for the avowal," said she, in a low, faint voice.

"It is not that my self-love can be wounded by any judgment that may be p.r.o.nounced; it is rather that I dread failure for itself. In a word, Mr. Linton, certain circ.u.mstances of fortune have pressed upon my grandfather's resources, some of which I am aware of--of others ignorant. So much, however, do I know, that the comforts, so necessary to his age and habits, have diminished one by one, each year seeing some new privations, where increasing infirmity would demand more ease.

In this emergency, I have thought of an effort--you will smile at the folly, perhaps, but be lenient for the motive--I have endeavored to make some of the many reminiscences of his own early years contribute to his old age, and have written certain short sketches of the time when, as a youth, he served as a soldier of the body-guard of Louis XVI. I know how utterly valueless they are in a literary point of view, but I have thought that, as true pictures of a time now probably pa.s.sed away never to return again, they might have their interest Such is my secret.

My entreaty is, to ask of you to look at them, and, if not utterly unworthy, to a.s.sist me regarding their publication."

"I not only promise this, but I can pledge myself to the success," said Linton; "such recitals of life and manners as I have listened to from Mr. Corrigan would be invaluable; we know so little in England--"

"Nay, let me stop you; they are written in French. My hope is to procure their insertion in some French journal, as is the custom now-a-days.

Here they are," said she, handing him a packet with a trembling hand. "I have but to say, that if they be all I fear them, you will be too true a friend to peril me by a rejection." And without waiting for a reply, she hurried back to the house.

Many minutes had not elapsed ere Linton found himself in his room, with the open ma.n.u.script before him. It was quite true, he had not in antic.i.p.ation conceived a very high idea of Miss Leicester's efforts, because his habit, like that of a great number of shrewd people, was to regard all amateur performances as very inferior, and that only they who give themselves wholly up to any pursuit attain even mediocrity. He had not, however, read many pages ere he was struck by the evidence of high ability. The style was everywhere simple, chaste, and elegant; the ill.u.s.trations natural and graceful; and the dialogue, when, occurring, marked by all the epigrammatic smartness which characterized the era.

The sketches also had the merit of life-pictures,--real characters of the day, being drawn with a vigor that only actual knowledge could impart. All these excellences Linton could perceive and estimate; but there were many very far above his power of appreciation. As it was, he read on, fascinated by the interest the scenes inspired, nor ceased till the last page was completed, when, throwing himself on his bed, he fell soon asleep, and dreamed of Mary Leicester.

His very first care, on waking, was to resume the ma.n.u.script, and see how far the impression first made might be corroborated by afterthought.

It was while reading, that the post had just arrived, bringing, among other letters, one in Phillis's hand, which was, though brief, significant:--

Sir,--There is no time to be lost. The K.'s are here every day, and Lord C------ spends every morning here till three or four O'C.

Mr. Meek has written to ask for Mr. C.'s interest in the borough; what answer given, not known. Mr. C. would seem to be again pressed for money. He was here twice yesterday. The rumor is that Mr. C. will marry Miss O. K. immediately.

Pea.r.s.e overheard Mr. K. warning Mr. C. against Mr. Linton as a very dangerous intimate. Ld. C. F. said, when sitting here yesterday, "I have known Master Tom some years, and never knew the man he did not help to ruin with whom he had any influence." Mr. C. said something about being on his guard, and "suspecting;" but the exact words were not heard. Lord K. and Lady breakfasted with Mr. C. to-day, and stayed till two. Lady K. swept down with her dress a Sevres jar in the boudoir; heard Mr. C. say that he would not give the fragments for the most precious vase in the Tuileries. Lord K. asked what he said, and her Ladyship replied that Mr.

C.'s vase was unhappily the fellow of one in the Tuileries, and looked confused at the accident. Mr. Linton is warned to lose no time, as Mr. C. is hourly falling deeper into other influences, and every day something occurs to injure Mr. L's interest. Honored sir, in duty yours, P.

N.B.--The yacht came into harbor from Cowes last night.

The same day which brought this secret despatch saw one from Linton to Cashel, saying, that by the aid of four hundred workmen in various crafts, unceasing toil, and unwearied zeal, Tubbermore would be ready to receive his guests by the following Wednesday. A steamer, hired specially, had brought over from London nearly everything which const.i.tutes the internal arrangement of a house; and as money had been spent without control, difficulties melted away into mere momentary embarra.s.sments,--impossibilities, there were none. The letter contained a long list of commissions for Cashel to execute, given, however, with no other object than to occupy his time for the remaining few days in town as much as possible. This written and sent off, Linton addressed himself to his task of preparation with an energy few could surpa.s.s, and while the trades-people were stimulated by increased pay to greater efforts, and the work was carried on through the night by torchlight; the whole demesne swarmed with laborers by whom roads were cut, paths gravelled, fences levelled, flower-plots devised; even the garden--that labyrinth of giant weeds--was reduced to order, till in the hourly changing aspect of the place it was hard not to recognize the wand of enchantment It was, indeed, like magic to see how fountains sprang up, and threw their sprayey showers over the new-planted shrubs; new paths led away into dense groves of trees; windows, so late half walled up, now opened upon smooth, shaven turf, or disclosed a reach of swelling landscape; and chambers, that a few days back were the gloomy abode of the bat and the night-owl, became of a sudden cheerful and lightsome.

Stuccoed ceilings, mirror-panelled windows, gilded cornices, and carved architraves--all of which would imply time and long labor--were there at once and on the moment, for the good fairy who did these things knows not failure,--the banker's check-book. From the great hall to the uppermost chamber the aspect of all bespoke comfort. The elegances of life, Linton well knew, are like all other refinements,--not capable of being "improvised," but the daily comforts are. The meaner objects which make up the sum of hourly want,--the lazy ottoman, the downy-pillowed fauteuils, the little squabs that sit in windows to provoke flirtations and inspire confidences; the tempting little writing-tables that suggest pen and ink; the billiard-table, opening on the flower-garden, so redolent of sweet odors that you feel exonerated for the shame of an in-door occupation; the pianos and guitars and harps scattered about in various places, as though to be ever ready to the touch; the books and prints and portfolios that give excuse to the lounging mood, and text for that indolent chitchat so pleasant of a morning,--all these, and a thousand other things, seen through the long perspective of a handsome suite of rooms, do make up that sum, for which our own dear epithet, "comfort," has no foreign equivalent.

We have been often compelled, in this veracious history, to reflect with harshness on certain traits of Mr. Linton's morality. Let us make him the small _amende_ in our power to say, that in his present functions he was unsurpa.s.sable; and here, for the moment, we leave him.

CHAPTER XXVI. BAD GENERALSHIP

"They alle agrede to disagree, A moste united Familie!"

Great was the excitement and bustle in the Kennyf.e.c.k family on the arrival of a brief note from Roland Cashel, setting forth that the house at Tubbermore was at length in a state to receive his guests, who were invited for the following Wednesday.

Although this visit had rarely been alluded to in Cashel's presence, it was a very frequent topic of the family in secret committee, and many were the fears inspired by long postponement that the event would never come off. Each, indeed, looked forward to it with very different feelings. Independent of all more purely personal views, Mrs. Kennyf.e.c.k speculated on the immense increase of importance she should obtain socially, in the fact of being domesticated in the same house with a commander of the forces and his lady, not to speak of secretaries, _aides-de-camp_, and Heaven knows what other functionaries. The young ladies had prospective visions of another order; and poor Kennyf.e.c.k fancied himself a kind of agricultural Metternich, who was about, at the mere suggestion of his will, to lay down new territorial limits on the estate, and cut and carve the boundaries at his pleasure.

Aunt f.a.n.n.y, alone, was not warmed by the enthusiasm around her; first of all, there were grave doubts if she could accompany the others, as no precise invitation had ever been accorded to her; and although Mrs.

Kennyf.e.c.k stoutly averred "she was as good as asked," the elder daughter plainly hinted at the possible awkwardness of such a step, Olivia preserving between the two a docile neutrality.

"I 'm sorry for _your_ sake, my dear," said Miss O'Hara to Olivia, with an accent almost tart, "because I thought I might be useful."

"It is very provoking for all our sakes," said Miss Kennyf.e.c.k, as though quietly suffering the judgment to be p.r.o.nounced; "we should have been so happy all together."

"If your father was any good, he 'd manage it at once," said Mrs. K., with a resentful glance towards poor Mr. Kennyf.e.c.k, who, with spectacles on his forehead, and the newspaper on his knee, fancied he was thinking.

"We should have some very impertinent remark upon it, I'm certain," said Miss K., who, for reasons we must leave to the reader's own acuteness, was greatly averse to her aunt accompanying them, "so many of one family! I know how Linton will speak of it."

"Let him, if he dare; I wonder whose exertions placed Cashel himself in the position he enjoys," said Mrs. Kennyf.e.c.k, angrily, and darting a look of profound contempt at her husband, recognizing, doubtless, the axiom of the ign.o.ble means through which Providence occasionally effects our destinies.

"I can remain here, mamma, for that matter," said Olivia, in a voice of angelic innocence.

"Sweet--artless creature," whispered her sister, "not to know how all our devices are exercised for her."

"It 's really too provoking, f.a.n.n.y," said Mrs. Kennyf.e.c.k; "you were just beginning to acquire that kind of influence over him which would be so serviceable, and once in the country, where so many opportunities for joining him in his walks would occur, I calculated immensely on your a.s.sistance."

"Well, my dear, it can't be helped," sighed Aunt f.a.n.n.y.

"Could n't we allude to it to-day, when Cashel calls, and say something about your going away to the country and our regrets at parting, and so on? Olivia, you might do that very easily."

"It wouldn't do for Olivia," said Aunt f.a.n.n.y, very sententiously.

"Quite right, aunt," chimed in Miss Kennyf.e.c.k; "that would be like old Admiral Martin, who shot away all his ammunition firing salutes."