That Unfortunate Marriage Volume Ii Part 9

"Ah, that we do!" a.s.sented Mrs. Dobbs huskily.

"Well, Mrs. Griffin is always telling me that my money--'a princely fortune' she calls it: but it's a good deal more than _that_, by what I can hear about princes--lays me under an obligation to marry again."

At the words "princely fortune" Mrs. Dobbs winced, and a deep red flush came into her face; but she answered quietly, "Wealth has its responsibilities, of course, Mr. Bragg."

"Yes, it has; and its troubles. But when all's said and done, it's pleasanter to be rich than poor. I've tried both."

"No doubt. Only--one may pay too dear even for being rich."

"Well, I should be sorry for any lady I married to consider that she paid too dear for being rich."

"Oh, I meant no offence, Mr. Bragg."

"There's nothing you may not pay too dear for, I suppose; except a quiet conscience. You may pay too dear for a wife. And there's two sides to every"--he was about to say "bargain," but he subst.i.tuted the word "arrangement."

Mrs. Dobbs had taken up her knitting, and was twisting and pulling it with her fingers in a restless, nervous way. When Mr. Bragg made a pause, and looked at her, she said, "Of course, that's quite true."

He went on, "I make bold to hope, Mrs. Dobbs, that you'll give me credit in what I'm going to say, for having some serious reason, and not talking idly, out of pride and vanity; in short, for not being what you might call a fool."

"Yes, I will, Mr. Bragg."

"Thank ye. On that understanding I may say, between ourselves, that Mrs.

Griffin has mentioned to me several quarters where I shouldn't meet with a refusal in case I went to look for a wife. I couldn't have supposed it myself--at least, not to the extent it really does run to. But the fact has been brought to my knowledge, so that there's no possibility of making any mistake about it. More than one young lady--some of 'em t.i.tled, too," said Mr. Bragg, with an odd glimmer of complacency flitting for a moment like a will-o'-the-wisp above the solid _terra firma_ of his native good sense. "More than one, and more than two, have been what you might call trotted out for me."

Mrs. Dobbs's fingers twitched and pulled at the wool on her knitting-needles, and the muscles round her mouth seemed to tighten. But she said not a word.

Mr. Bragg continued, "Now, perhaps you think I have no business to take up your time with all this, when it's no concern of yours?"

Still Mrs. Dobbs did not speak; so he added--

"But it does concern you in a way."

She made a visible effort to say, quietly, "Ah, indeed! How's that?"

But this time she was perfectly sure beforehand of what he was going to say.

"I'm coming to that in one moment." Here Mr. Bragg paused, took out his handkerchief, and pa.s.sed it over his face before proceeding. "I mentioned that Mrs. Griffin sometimes gets out of her depth (with the best of intentions) when minding other people's business. She got a little out of her depth when attending to mine. She somehow took it for granted that I should be quite content to marry any lady of high family, who would look handsome in my diamonds and spend my money in the fashionablest style. She was consequently a good deal taken aback when I offered some objections to one or two parties of her recommendation. But I managed to make her understand at last. Said I, 'Mrs. Griffin, I don't undervalue the honour; but I'm too old to wear a tight shoe for the sake of appearances.' The fact was, I did not feel myself what you might call _drawn_ towards any of these young ladies. I couldn't fancy them sitting opposite to me at my own fireside with a kind look on their faces. Now, the reason I say all this to you," continued Mr. Bragg, laying his ma.s.sive hand on the elbow of Mrs. Dobbs's chair, "is because there is a young lady that I _do_ feel drawn towards--a young lady I've had opportunities of observing at home and abroad. And it was talking of this young lady that I said one day to Mrs. Griffin, 'Now, if you could find some one like Miss May Cheffington who'd condescend to have me, I should think myself a very fortunate man.' She quite jumped at the idea."

"Jumped, indeed!" burst out Mrs. Dobbs, indignantly. "Then she took a most unwarrantable liberty. She could know nothing about Miss May Cheffington's feeling in the matter. What business had _she_ to jump?"

"Nay, nay, my good lady! My good lady! You don't understand. She jumped at the idea on _my_ account. Why, Lord bless me, you couldn't suppose----! She told me at once that May Cheffington was the purest-minded and most unworldly girl she ever knew. I remember her very words; for I couldn't help thinking at the time how queer it was that Mrs. Griffin should admire unworldliness so much."

There was a long pause. Mrs. Dobbs was greatly moved from her usual self-possession. She could not trust herself to speak, while Mr. Bragg was surprised, and somewhat offended, by her reception of what he had to say.

He had really, all things considered, very little purse pride. But he had been accustomed for many years to be dumbly conscious of the power of his wealth, as an elephant is dumbly conscious of the power of his weight; and for a few moments he felt as the elephant might feel if he were subjected to the mysterious process which we hear of as "levitation," and suddenly found himself brushed aside like a fly. Mr.

Bragg did not wish to bear down his fellow-creatures unduly by force of wealth. But wealth had come to be a large factor in his social specific gravity.

After a while, Mrs. Dobbs said tremulously, and by no means graciously, "Well, I don't see what I can do for you in the matter."

"I am not asking you to do anything for me, Mrs. Dobbs. I was not aware till last night that you were any relation to Miss Cheffington, or, leastways, I had forgotten it, for I believe I did hear of your daughter's marriage years ago. When I became aware of it, I thought you would take it as a mark of respect and goodwill if I came and spoke to you confidentially. But you don't appear to see it in that light."

Mrs. Dobbs turned round and offered him her hand, saying, "I ask your pardon if I have said anything to offend you. You don't deserve it; you are very far from deserving it. But I'm shaken; my nerve isn't what it was. I haven't been so upset since my poor dear daughter Susy ran away and got married." She was trembling, and her restless fingers were making sad work with the knitting.

"Well, well, there's no occasion for you to put yourself about, you know. I should like you to tell me just this--under the circ.u.mstances I think there's no objection to my putting the question--is there anybody else in the field before me?"

"N-no; I think not. I can't say."

"If the young lady has no other attachment," said Mr. Bragg, in his slow, pondering way, "I don't see why I should not be able to make her happy. What do _you_ think?"

"You're a deal older than the child: there's a great disparity, Joshua!"

answered Mrs. Dobbs, reverting, in her agitation, to the familiar form in which she had addressed him thirty years back.

"So there is, but that can't be helped; we must just reckon with it as so much alloy. There wouldn't be much romance--couldn't be; but a vast number of people get on very well without romance, and are useful and happy. I have some reason to believe," added Mr. Bragg, looking at her a little askance--for there was no knowing whether this fiery old woman might not take offence again--"that certain members of Miss C.'s family would approve."

Mrs. Dobbs answered with unexpected meekness. "There's no need to tell me _that_. And you mustn't suppose, Mr. Bragg, that I don't appreciate--that I don't know how the world in general would look upon your offer."

"Why, you see, it doesn't amount exactly to an offer. I thought I would talk matters over with you, and, what you might call, put the case. You see," said Mr. Bragg, placing the forefinger of his right hand upon the thumb of his left, "for my part I could undertake that any lady who did me the honour to marry me should have steady kindness and respect. I wouldn't marry a woman I didn't respect, not if she was the handsomest one in the world and a duke's daughter. Then," placing his two forefingers together, "I ain't a bad temper, nor a jealous temper.

Lastly," here he shifted the forefinger of his right hand to the middle finger of his left, "though I don't want to lay too much stress upon money, yet it's a fact that my wife, and, in the course of nature, my widow, would be a very rich woman."

"I suppose you know," said Mrs. Dobbs, leaning her forehead on her hand, and letting the knitting slide from her knees to the floor, "that May's father is alive?"

"Yes; I do know it. And I've got something to say to you on that score.

And I'm sure you will agree with me that it is very desirable for Miss C. to have protection and guidance. I'm not speaking for myself now, you understand. Her aunt, Mrs. Dormer-Smith, is a very genteel lady, with very high connections. But--quite between ourselves, you know--I wouldn't give much for her headpiece."

Mrs. Dobbs was looking at him eagerly, and scarcely allowed him to finish his sentence before she said, "But you have something to say about Captain Cheffington?"

"Well, perhaps you know it. If you don't, you ought to. He has been travelling about for years with an Italian opera-singer. She is with him now in Brussels. And people say he has married her."

Mrs. Dobbs clasped her hands together, and e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, almost in a whisper, "Oh, my poor child!"

Mr. Bragg could not tell whether she were thinking of her daughter, or her grand-daughter. Perhaps the images of both were in her mind.

"You had not heard of it, then? Ah! It's a bad prospect for Miss C."

"But is it true? So many stories get about. It seems incredible to me that Augustus, so selfish as he is, should have bound himself in that way."

"I hear it confirmed on all hands. It's an old story now, and pretty widely known. But, look at it which way you will, it's an ugly, disreputable kind of business, Mrs. Dobbs."

She was silent for a while, sitting with her head sunk on her breast, and her hands clasped before her. Then she said, almost as if speaking to herself, "G.o.d knows! The woman _may_ not be bad or wicked. How are we to judge?"

Mr. Bragg drew his hand away from the elbow of Mrs. Dobbs's chair, where it had been resting, and said, in a tone of solemn disapprobation, "I don't think there can be much doubt as to the character of the--person, Mrs. Dobbs. I understand she became so notorious in Brussels through keeping a gaming-house, or something of that kind, as to call for the interference of the police."

"May I ask how this information reached you?" said Mrs. Dobbs, turning round and looking full at him.

Mr. Bragg hesitated for a few moments before answering. "It has come to me from various quarters; but the latest is an Italian singer, who has been chattering a good deal. He was at Miss Piper's. There's always a certain amount of risk in having public performers in your house. I don't encourage 'em myself--never did from a boy; and I think it a pity that Miss Piper does. Her sister and me are quite agreed on that point."

Mr. Bragg here pushed back his chair and stood up. "I should wish you to understand," he said, "that I should have thought it my duty to tell you this, feeling the interest I do in Miss C., quite independent of our previous conversation."

"I understand. Thank you."