The Bertrams Part 89

"You are very sharp to-night."

"Not a bit sharper than I shall be to-morrow."

"One is afraid even to speak to you now."

"Then one had better hold one's tongue."

Mrs. c.o.x was receiving her suitor rather sharply; but she probably knew his disposition. He did not answer her immediately, but sat biting the top of his cane. "I'll tell you what it is, Mrs. c.o.x," he said at last, "I don't like this kind of thing."

"Don't you, Mr. Biffin? And what kind of thing do you like?"

"I like you."

"Psha! Tell me something new, if you must tell me anything."

"Come, Annie; do be serious for a moment. There isn't much time left now, and I've come to you in order that I may get a plain answer."

"If you want a plain answer, you'd better ask a plain question. I don't know what you mean."

"Will you have me? That's a plain question, or the deuce is in it."

"And what should I do with you?"

"Why, be Mrs. Biffin, of course."

"Ha! ha! ha! And it has come to that, has it? What was it you said to Dr. O'Shaughnessey when we were off Point de Galle?"

"Well, what did I say?"

"I know what you said well enough. And so do you, too. If I served you right, I should never speak to you again."

"A man doesn't like to be humbugged, you know, before a whole shipful of people," said the major, defending himself.

"And a woman likes it just as little, Major Biffin; please to remember that."

"Well; I'm sure you've been down upon me long enough."

"Not a bit longer than you deserved. You told O'Shaughnessey, that it was all very well to amuse yourself, going home. I hope you like your amus.e.m.e.nt now. I have liked mine very well, I can a.s.sure you."

"I don't think so bad of you as to believe you care for that fellow."

"There are worse fellows than he is, Major Biffin. But there, I have had my revenge; and now if you have anything to say, I'll give you an answer."

"I've only to say, Annie, that I love you better than any woman in the world."

"I may believe as much of that as I like."

"You may believe it all. Come, there's my hand."

"Well, I suppose I must forgive you. There's mine. Will that please you?"

Major Biffin was the happiest man in the world, and Mrs. c.o.x went to her berth that night not altogether dissatisfied. Before she did so, she had the major's offer in writing in her pocket; and had shown it to Mrs. Price, with whom she was now altogether reconciled.

"I only wish, Minnie, that there was no Mrs. M'Gramm," said she.

"He wouldn't be the man for me at all, my dear; so don't let that fret you."

"There's as good fish in the sea as ever were caught yet; eh, Minnie?"

"Of course there are. Though of course you think there never was such a fish as Biffin."

"He'll do well enough for me, Minnie; and when you catch a bigger, and a better, I won't begrudge him you."

That night Mrs. c.o.x took her evening modic.u.m of creature-comforts sitting next to her lover, the major; and our two friends were left alone by themselves. The news had soon spread about the ship, and to those ladies who spoke to her on the subject, Mrs. c.o.x made no secret of the fact. Men in this world catch their fish by various devices; and it is necessary that these schemes should be much studied before a man can call himself a fisherman. It is the same with women; and Mrs. c.o.x was an Izaak Walton among her own s.e.x. Had she not tied her fly with skill, and thrown her line with a steady hand, she would not have had her trout in her basket. There was a certain amount of honour due to her for her skill, and she was not ashamed to accept it.

"Good-night, Mrs. c.o.x," Bertram said to her that evening, with a good-humoured tone; "I hear that I am to congratulate you."

"Good-night," said she, giving him her hand. "And I'll say good-bye, too, for we shall all be in such a flurry to-morrow morning. I'm sure you think I've done the right thing--don't you? And, mind this, I shall hope to see you some day." And so saying, she gave him a kindly grasp, and they parted. "Done right!" said Bertram; "yes, I suppose she has; right enough at least as far as I am concerned. After all, what husband is so convenient as a barber's block?"

On the following morning they steamed up the Southampton river, and at nine o'clock they were alongside the quay. All manner of people had come on board in boats, and the breakfast was eaten in great confusion. But few of the ladies were to be seen. They had tea and rolls in their own cabins, and did not appear till the last moment.

Among these were Mrs. c.o.x and Mrs. Price.

These ladies during their journey home had certainly not been woe-begone, either in personal appearance or in manner. And who would have the heart to wish that they should be so? They had been dressed as young ladies on board ship usually do dress, so that their widowhood had been forgotten; and, but for their babies, their wifehood might have been forgotten also.

But now they were to be met by family friends--by friends who were thinking of nothing but their bereavements. Old Mr. Price came to meet them on board, and Mrs. c.o.x's uncle; old gentlemen with faces prepared for sadness, and young ladies with sympathetic handkerchiefs. How signally surprised the sad old gentlemen and the sympathetic young ladies must have been!

Not a whit! Just as our friends were about to leave the ship that morning, with all their luggage collected round them, they were startled by the apparition of two sombre female figures, buried in most sombre tokens of affliction. Under the deep c.r.a.pe of their heavy black bonnets were to be seen that chiefest sign of heavy female woe--a widow's cap. What signal of sorrow that grief holds out, ever moves so much as this? Their eyes were red with weeping, as could be seen when, for a moment, their deep bordered handkerchiefs were allowed to fall from their faces. Their eyes were red with weeping, and the agonizing grief of domestic bereavement sat chiselled on every feature. If you stood near enough, your heart would melt at the sound of their sobs.

Alas! that forms so light, that creatures so young, should need to be shrouded in such vestments! They were all c.r.a.pe, that dull, weeping, widow's c.r.a.pe, from the deck up to their shoulders. There they stood, monuments of death, living tombs, whose only sign of life was in their tears. There they stood, till they might fall, vanquished by the pangs of memory, into the arms of their respective relations.

They were Mrs. c.o.x and Mrs. Price. Bertram and Wilkinson, as they pa.s.sed them, lifted their hats and bowed, and the two ladies observing them, returned their salutation with the coldest propriety.

CHAPTER XI.

I COULD PUT A CODICIL.

On their journey up from Southampton, George and Arthur parted from each other. George went on direct to London, whereas Arthur turned off from Basingstoke towards his own home.

"Take my advice now, if you never do again," said Bertram, as they parted; "make yourself master of your own house, and as soon after as possible make her the mistress of it."

"That's easily said, old fellow," repeated the other.

"Make the attempt, at any rate. If I am anything of a prophet, it won't be in vain;" and so they parted.

At Southampton they had learnt that there had been a partial crash in the government. The prime minister had not absolutely walked forth, followed by all his satellites, as is the case when a successful turn in the wheel gives the outs a full whip-hand over the ins, but it had become necessary to throw overboard a brace or two of Jonahs, so that the ship might be lightened to meet a coming storm; and among those so thrown over had been our unfortunate friend Sir Henry Harcourt.