The Dodd Family Abroad Volume I Part 20

James Dodd.

I open my letter to say that Lord G. has just dropped in to tell me what is the plan of procedure. The Grand d.u.c.h.ess of Hohenschwillinghen is to arrive at Ems this week, and Mrs. G. H. is anxious to wait upon her at once. They were dear friends once, but something or other interposed a coolness between them of late years. Lord G. endeavored to explain this, but I couldn't follow the story. It was something about one of our royal family wanting to marry, or not to marry, somebody else, and that Mrs.

G. H. or the d.u.c.h.ess had promoted or opposed the match. Suffice, it was a regular kingly shindy, and all engaged in it were of the blood royal.

The really important thing at the moment is that the governor is to conduct Mrs. G. H. to-morrow to Ems, and we are to follow in a day or two. How my mother will receive this information, or who is to communicate it to her, are questions not so easily solved.

LETTER XXI. MRS. DODD TO MISTRESS MARY GALLAGHER.

My dear Molly,--If it wasn't that I am supported in a wonderful way, and that my appet.i.te keeps good for the bit I eat, I would n't be able to sit down here and relate the sufferings of my afflicted heart There has been nothing but trials and tribulations over me since I wrote last, and I knew it was coming, too, for that dirty beast, Paddy Byrne, upset the lamp, and spilled all the oil over the sofa the other evening; and whilst the others were scouring and scrubbing with spirit of soap and neumonia, I sat down to cry heartily, for I foresaw what was coming; and I knew well that spilt oil is the unluckiest thing that ever happens in a family.

Maybe I wasn't right The very next morning Betty Cobb goes and cuts my antic lace flounce down the middle, to make borders for caps; and that wasn't enough, but she puts the front breadth of my new flowered satin upside down, so that, "to make the roses go right," as James says, "I ought to walk on my head." That's spilt oil for you!

Whilst I was endeavoring to bear up against these with all Christian animosity, in comes the post-bag. The very sight of it, Molly, gave me a turn; and, I declare to you, I knew as well there was bad news in it as if I was inside of it. You've often beard of a "presentment" Molly, and that's what I had; and when you have that, it's no matter what it's about, whether it's a road that's broke up, or a bridge that's broke down, take my advice, and never listen to what they call "reason," for it's just flying in the face of Providence. I had one before Mary Anne was born. I thought the poor baby would have the mark of a snail on her neck; and true enough, the very same week K. I. was shot through the skirts of his coat, and came home with five slugs in him; and when you think, as Father Maher said, "Slugs and snails are own brothers," or, at least, have a strong anomaly between them, my dream came true; not but I acknowledge, gratefully, that in this case the fright was worse than the reality.

Well, to come back to the bag; I looked at it, and said to myself, as I often said to K. I., "Smooth and slippery as you seem without, there's bad inside of you;" and you 'll see yourself if I was n't right both ways.

The first letter they took out was for myself, and in Waters's handwriting. It began with all the balderdash and hard names the lawyers have for everything, trying to confuse and confound, just as, Father Maher says, the "scuttle-fish" muddies the water before he runs away; but towards the end, my dear, he grew plainer and more conspicuous, for he said, "You will perceive, by the subjoined account, that after the payment of law charges, and other contingent expenses, the sum at your disposal will amount to twelve hundred and thirty-four pounds six and ninepence-halfpenny." I thought I 'd drop, Molly, as I read it; I shook and I trembled, and I believe, indeed, ended with a strong fit of screeching, for my nerves was weak before, and really this shock was too much for any const.i.tution. Twelve hundred and thirty-six! when I expected, at the very least, fifteen or sixteen thousand pounds! It was only that very blessed morning that I was planning to myself about a separation from K. I. I calculated that I 'd have about six hundred a year of my own; and, out of decency sake, he could n't refuse me three or four more, and with this, and my present knowledge of the Continent, I thought I 'd do remarkably well. For I must observe to you, Molly, that there's no manner of disgrace, or even unpleasantness, in being separated abroad. It is not like in Ireland, where everybody thinks the worse of you both; and, what between your own friends and your husband's friends, there is n't an event of your private life that 's not laid bare before the world, so that, at last, the defence of you turns out to be just as dreadful as the abuse. No, Molly, here it's all different Next to being divorced, the most fashionable thing is a separation, and for one woman, in really high life, that lives with her husband, you 'll find three that does not. I suppose, like everything else in this sinful world, there's good and there 's bad in this custom. When I first came abroad, I own, I disliked to see it. I fancied that, no matter how it came about, the women was always wrong. But that was merely an Irish prejudice, and, like many others, I have lived to get rid of it. There 's nothing convinces you of this so soon as knowing intimately the ladies that are in this situation.

Of all the amiable creatures I ever met, I know nothing to compare with them. It is not merely of manners and good breeding that I speak, but the gentle, mild quietness of their temper,--a kind of submissive softness that, I own to you, one can't have with their husbands, and maybe that's the reason they 've left them. I merely mention this to show you that if I had a reasonably good income, and was separated from K. I., there 's no society abroad that I mightn't be in; and, in fact, my dear Molly, I may sum all up by saying that living with your husband may give you some comfort when you 're at home, but it certainly excludes you from all sympathy abroad; and for one friend that you have in the former case, you 'll have, at the least, ten in the latter.

This will explain to you why and how my thoughts ran upon separation, for if I had stayed in Ireland, I 'm sure I 'd never have thought of it; for I own to you, with shame and sorrow, Molly, that we know no more about civilization in our poor Ireland "than," as Lord George says, "a prairie bull does about oil-cake."

You may judge, then, of what my feelings was when I read Waters's letter, and saw all my elegant hopes melting like jelly on a hot plate.

Twelve hundred pounds! Was it out of mockery he left it to me? Faith, Molly, I cried more that night than ever I thought to do for old Jones M'Carthy! Myself and Mary Anne was as red in the eyes as two ferrets.

The first, and of course the great shock was the loss of the money, and after that came the thought of the way K. I. would behave when he discovered my disappointment. For I must tell you that the bare idea of my being independent drove him almost crazy. He seemed, somehow, to have a kind of lurking suspicion that I'd want to separate, and now, when he 'd come to discover the trifle I was left, there would be no enduring his gibes and his jeers. I had it all before me how he 'd go on, tormenting and hara.s.sing me from daylight to dark. This was dreadful, Molly, and overcame me completely. I knew him well; and that he would n't be satisfied with laughing at my legacy, but he 'd go on to abuse the M'Carthy family and all my relations. There's nothing a low man detests like the real old n.o.bility of a country.

Mary Anne and I talked it all over the whole night, and turned it every way we could think. If we kept the whole secret, it would save "going into black" for ourselves and the servants, and that was a great object; but then we could n't take the name of M'Carthy after that of Dodd, quartering the arms on our shield, and so on, without announcing the death of poor Jones M'Carthy. There was the hitch; for Mary Anne persisted in thinking that the best thing about it all was the elegant opportunity it offered of getting rid of the name of Dodd, or, at the least, hiding it under the shadow of M'Carthy.

Ah, my dear Molly, you know the proverb, "Man proposes, but fate opposes." While we were discoursing over these things, little I guessed the mine that was going to explode under my feet. I mentioned to you in my last, I think, a lady with whom we agreed to travel in company,--a Mrs. Gore Hampton, a very handsome, showy woman,--though I own to you, Molly, not what I call "one of _my_ beauties."

She is tall and dark-haired, and has that kind of soft, tender way with men that I remark does more mischief than any other. We all liked her greatly at first,--I suppose she determined we should, and spared no pains to suit herself to our various dispositions. I 'm sure I tried to be as accommodating as she was, and I took to arts and sciences that I could n't find any pleasure in; but I went with the stream, as the saying is, and you 'll see where it left me! I vow to you I had my misgivings that a handsome, fine-looking young woman was only thinking of dried frogs and ferns. They were n't natural tastes, and so I kept a sharp eye on her. At one time I suspected she was tender on Lord George, and then I thought it was James; but at last, Molly darling, the truth flashed across me, like a streak of lightning, making me stone blind in a minute! What was it I perceived, do you think, but that the real "Lutherian" was no other than K. I. himself? I feel that I 'm blushing as I write it The father of three children, grown-up, and fifty-eight in November, if he's not more, but he won't own to it.

There's things, Molly, "too dreadful," as Father Maher remarks, "for human credulity," and when one of them comes across you in life, the only thing is to take up the Litany to St Joseph, and go over it once or twice, then read a chapter or two of Dr. Croft's "Modern Miracles of the Church," and by that time you're in a frame to believe anything. Well, as I had n't the book by me, I thought I 'd take a solitary ramble by myself, to reflect and consider, and down I went to a kind of greenhouse that is full of orange and lemon trees, and where I was sure to be alone.

K. I. has what he calls his dressing-room--it's little trouble dressing gives him--at the end of this; but I was n't attending to that, but sitting with a heavy heart under a dwarf fig-tree, like Nebuchadnezzar, and only full of my own misfortunes, when I heard through the trees the rustling sound of a woman's dress. I bent down my head to see, and there was Mrs. G. in a white muslin dressing-gown, but elegantly trimmed with Malines lace, two falls round the cape, and the same on the arm, just as becoming a thing as any she could put on.

"What's this for?" said I to myself; for you may guess I knew she did n't dress that way to pluck lemons and green limes; and so I sat watching her in silence. She stood, evidently listening, for a minute or two; she then gathered two or three flowers, and stuck them in her waist, and, after that, she hummed a few bars of a tune, quite low, and as if to herself. That was, I suppose, a signal, for K. I.'s door opened; and there he stood himself, and a nice-looking article he was, with his ragged _robe de chambre_, and his greasy skull-cap, bowing and sc.r.a.ping like an old monkey. "I little knew that such a flower was blooming in the conservatory," said he, with a smirk I suppose he thought quite captivating.

"You do not pretend that you selected your apartment here but in the hope of watching the unfolding buds," replied she; and then, with something in a lower voice, to which he answered in the same, she pa.s.sed on into his room, and he closed the door after her.

I suppose I must have fainted, Molly, after that. I remembered nothing, except seeing lemon and orange trees all sliding and flitting about, and felt myself as if I was shooting down the Rhine on a raft. Maybe it's for worse that I 'm reserved. Maybe it would have been well for me if I was carried away out of this world of woe, wickedness, and artful widows. When I came to myself, I suddenly recalled everything; and it was as much as I could do not to scream out and bring all the house to the spot and expose them both. But I subdued my indigent feelings, and, creeping over to the door, I peeped at them through the keyhole.

K. I. was seated in his big chair, she in another close beside him. He was reading a letter, and she watching him, as if her life depended on him.

"Now read this," said she, thrusting another paper into his hand, "for you 'll see it is even worse."

[Ill.u.s.tration: 278]

"My heart bleeds for you, my dear Mrs. Gore," said he, taking off his spectacles and wiping his eyes, and red enough they were afterwards, for there was snuff on his handkerchief,--"my heart bleeds for you!"

These were his words; and why I didn't break open the door when I heard them, is more than I can tell.

"I was certain of your sympathy; I knew you 'd feel for me, my dear Mr.

Dodd," said she, sobbing.

"Of course you were," said I to myself. "He was the kind of old fool you wanted. But, faith, he shall feel for _me_, too, or my name is not Jemima."

"I don't suppose you ever heard of so cruel a case?" said she, still sobbing.

"Never,--never," cried he, clasping his hands. "I did n't believe it was in the nature of man to treat youth, beauty, and loveliness with such inhumanity. One that could do it must be a Creole Indian."

"Ah, Mr. Dodd!" said she, looking up into his eyes.

"In Tartary, or the Tropics," said he, "such wretches may be found, but in our own country and our own age--"

"Ah, Mr. Dodd," said she, again, "it is only in an Irish heart such generous emotions have their home!"

The artful hussey, she knew the tenderest spot of his nature by an instinct! for if there was anything he could n't resist, it was the appeal to his being Irish. And to show you, Molly, the designing craft of her, _she_ knew that weakness of K. I. in less than a month's acquaintance, that _I_ did n't find out till I was eight or nine years married to him.

For a minute or two my feelings overcame me so much that I could n't look or listen to them; but when I did, she had her hand on his arm, and was saying in the softest voice,--

"I may, then, count upon your kindness,--I may rest a.s.sured of your friendship."

"That you may,--that you may, my dear madam," said he.

Yes, Molly, he called her "madam" to her own face.

"If there should be any cruel enough, ungenerous enough, or base enough," sobbed she, "to calumniate me, _you_ will be my protector; and beneath _your_ roof shall I find my refuge. _Your_ character--your station in society--the honorable position you have ever held in the world--your claims as a father--your age--will all give the best contradiction to any scandal that malevolence can invent. Those dear venerable locks--"

Just as she said this, I heard somebody coming, and in haste too, for a flower-pot was thrown down, and I had barely time to make my escape to my own room, where I threw myself on my bed, and cried for two hours.

I have gone through many trials, Molly. Few women, I believe, have seen more affliction and sorrow than myself; from the day of my ill-suited marriage with K. I. to the present moment, I may say, it has been out of one misery into another with me ever since. But I don't think I ever cried as hearty as I did then, for, you see, there was no delusion or confusion possible! I heard everything with my own ears, and saw everything with my own eyes.

I listened to their plans and projects, and even heard them rejoicing that, because he was stricken in years, and the father of a grown family, n.o.body would suspect what he was at "Those dear venerable locks," as she called them, were to witness for him!

Oh, Molly, wasn't this too bad; could you believe that there was as much duplicity in the world as this? _I_ own, _I_ never did. I thought I saw wickedness enough in Ireland. I know the shameless way I was cheated in wool, and that Mat never was honest about rabbit-skins. But what was all that compared to this?

When I grew more composed, I sent for Mary Anne, and told her everything; but just to show you the perversity of human nature, she would n't agree to one word I said. It was law papers, she was sure, that Mrs. G. was showing; she had something in Chancery, maybe, or perhaps it was a legacy "tied up," like our own, "and that she wanted advice about it" But what nonsense that was! Sure, he needn't be the father of a family to advise her about all that. And there I was, Molly, without human creature to support or sustain me! For the first time since I came abroad, I wished myself back in Dodsborough. Not, indeed, that K. I. would ever have behaved this way at home in Ireland, with the eyes of the neighborhood on him, and Father Maher within call.

I pa.s.sed a weary night of it, for Mary Anne never left me, arguing and reasoning with me, and trying to convince me that I was wrong, and if I was to act upon my delusions, that I 'd be the ruin of them all. "Here we are now," said she, "with the finest opportunity for getting into society ever was known. Mrs. G. is one of the aristocracy, and intimate with everybody of fashion: quarrel with her, or even displease her, and where will we be, or who will know us? Our difficulties are already great enough. Papa's drab gaiters, and the name of Dodd, are obstacles in our way, that only great tact and first-rate management can get over.

When we are swimming for our lives," said she, "let us not throw away a life-preserver." Was n't it a nice name for a woman that was going to shipwreck a whole family.

The end of it all was, however, that I was to restrain my feelings, and be satisfied to observe and watch what was going on, for as they could have no conception of my knowing anything, I might be sure to detect them.

When I agreed to this plan, I grew easier in my mind, for, as I remarked to Mary Anne, "I 'm like soda-water, and when you once draw the cork, I never fret nor froth any more." So that after a cold chicken, cut up with salad, a thing Mary Anne makes to perfection, and a gla.s.s of white wine negus, I slept very soundly till late in the afternoon.