The Three Clerks Part 23

Shall I, wasting in despair, Die because a woman's fair?

If she be not fair for me, What care I how fair she be?

This was the upshot of the consideration which Withers, the poet, gave to the matter, and Withers was doubtless right. 'Tis thus that rejected lovers should think, thus that they should demean themselves; but they seldom come to this philosophy till a few days have pa.s.sed by, and talking of their grievance does not a.s.sist them in doing so.

When, therefore, Harry had declared what had happened to him, and had declared also that he had no further hope, he did not at first find himself much the better for what he had confessed. He was lackadaisical and piteous, and Alaric, though he had endeavoured to be friendly, soon found that he had no power of imparting any comfort. Early in the day they parted, and did not see each other again till the following morning.

'I was going down to Normansgrove on Thursday,' said Harry.

'Yes, I know,' said Alaric.

'I think I shall ask leave to go to-day. It can't make much difference, and the sooner I get away the better.'

And so it was settled. Norman left town the same afternoon, and Alaric, with his blushing honours thick upon him, was left alone.

London was now very empty, and he was constrained to enjoy his glory very much by himself. He had never a.s.sociated much with the Minus.e.xes and Uppinalls, nor yet with the Joneses and Robinsons of his own office, and it could not be expected that there should be any specially confidential intercourse between them just at the present moment. Undy was of course out of town with the rest of the fashionable world, and Alaric, during the next week, was left very much on his own hands.

'And so,' said he to himself, as he walked solitary along the lone paths of Rotten Row, and across the huge desert to the Marble Arch, 'and so poor Harry's hopes have been all in vain; he has lost his promotion, and now he has lost his bride--poor Harry!'--and then it occurred to him that as he had acquired the promotion it might be his destiny to win the bride also. He had never told himself that he loved Gertrude; he had looked on her as Norman's own, and he, at any rate, was not the man to sigh in despair after anything that was out of his reach. But now, now that Harry's chance was over, and that no bond of friendship could interfere with such a pa.s.sion, why should he not tell himself that he loved Gertrude? 'If, as Harry had himself said, there was no longer any hope for him, why,' said Alaric to himself, 'why should not I try my chance?' Of Linda, of 'dear, dearest Linda,' at this moment he thought very little, or, perhaps, not at all. Of what Mrs. Woodward might say, of that he did think a good deal.

The week was melancholy and dull, and it pa.s.sed very slowly at Hampton. On the Sunday morning it became known to them all that Norman was gone, but the subject, by tacit consent, was allowed to pa.s.s all but unnoticed. Even Katie, even Uncle Bat, were aware that something had occurred which ought to prevent them from inquiring too particularly why Harry had started back to town in so sudden a manner; and so they said nothing. To Linda, Gertrude had told what had happened; and Linda, as she heard it, asked herself whether she was prepared to be equally obdurate with her lover. He had now the means of supporting a wife, and why should she be obdurate?

Nothing was said on the subject between Gertrude and her mother.

What more could Mrs. Woodward say? It would have been totally opposed to the whole principle of her life to endeavour, by any means, to persuade her daughter to the match, or to have used her maternal influence in Norman's favour. And she was well aware that it would have been impossible to do so successfully.

Gertrude was not a girl to be talked into a marriage by any parent, and certainly not by such a parent as her mother. There was, therefore, nothing further to be said about it.

On. Sat.u.r.day Alaric went down, but his arrival hardly made things more pleasant. Mrs. Woodward could not bring herself to be cordial with him, and the girls were restrained by a certain feeling that it would not be right to show too much outward joy at Alaric's success. Linda said one little word of affectionate encouragement, but it produced no apparent return from Alaric.

His immediate object was to recover Mrs. Woodward's good graces; and he thought before he went that he had reason to hope that he might do so.

Of all the household, Captain Cutt.w.a.ter was the most emphatic in his congratulations. 'He had no doubt,' he said, 'that the best man had won. He had always hoped that the best man might win. He had not had the same luck when he was young, but he was very glad to see such an excellent rule brought into the service. It would soon work great changes, he was quite sure, at the Board of Admiralty.'

On the Sunday afternoon Captain Cutt.w.a.ter asked him into his own bedroom, and told him with a solemn, serious manner that he had a communication of importance to make to him. Alaric followed the captain into the well-known room in which Norman used to sleep, wondering what could be the nature of Uncle Bat's important communication. It might, probably, be some tidings of Sir Jib Boom.

'Mr. Alaric,' said the old man, as soon as they were both seated on opposite sides of a little Pembroke table that stood in the middle of the room, 'I was heartily glad to hear of your success at the Weights and Measures; not that I ever doubted it if they made a fair sailing match of it.'

'I am sure I am much obliged to you, Captain Cutt.w.a.ter.'

'That is as may be, by and by. But the fact is, I have taken a fancy to you. I like fellows that know how to push themselves.'

Alaric had nothing for it but to repeat again that he felt himself grateful for Captain Cutt.w.a.ter's good opinion.

'Not that I have anything to say against Mr. Norman--a very nice young man, indeed, he is, very nice, though perhaps not quite so cheerful in his manners as he might be.'

Alaric began to take his friend's part, and declared what a very worthy fellow Harry was.

'I am sure of it--I am sure of it,' said Uncle Bat; 'but everybody can't be A1; and a man can't make everybody his heir.'

Alaric p.r.i.c.ked up his ears. So after all Captain Cutt.w.a.ter was right in calling his communication important. But what business had Captain Cutt.w.a.ter to talk of making new heirs?--had he not declared that the Woodwards were his heirs?

'I have got a little money, Mr. Alaric,' he went on saying in a low modest tone, very different from that he ordinarily used; 'I have got a little money--not much--and it will of course go to my niece here.'

'Of course,' said Alaric.

'That is to say--it will go to her children, which is all the same thing.'

'Quite the same thing,' said Alaric.

'But my idea is this: if a man has saved a few pounds himself, I think he has a right to give it to those he loves best. Now I have no children of my own.'

Alaric declared himself aware of the fact.

'And I suppose I shan't have any now.'

'Not if you don't marry,' said Alaric, who felt rather at a loss for a proper answer. He could not, however, have made a better one.

'No; that's what I mean; but I don't think I shall marry. I am very well contented here, and I like Surbiton Cottage amazingly.'

'It's a charming place,' said Alaric.

'No, I don't suppose I shall ever have any children of my own,'--and then Uncle Bat sighed gently--'and so I have been considering whom I should like to adopt.'

'Quite right, Captain Cutt.w.a.ter.'

'Whom I should like to adopt. I should like to have one whom I could call in a special manner my own. Now, Mr. Alaric, I have made up my mind, and who do you think it is?'

'Oh! Captain Cutt.w.a.ter, I couldn't guess on such a matter. I shouldn't like to guess wrong.'

'Perhaps not--no; that's right;--well then, I'll tell you; it's Gertrude.'

Alaric was well aware that it was Gertrude before her name had been p.r.o.nounced.

'Yes, it's Gertrude; of course I couldn't go out of Bessie's family--of course it must be either Gertrude, or Linda, or Katie.

Now Linda and Katie are very well, but they haven't half the gumption that Gertrude has.'

'No, they have not,' said Alaric.

'I like gumption,' said Captain Cutt.w.a.ter. 'You've a great deal of gumption--that's why I like you.'

Alaric laughed, and muttered something.

'Now I have been thinking of something;' and Uncle Bat looked strangely mysterious--'I wonder what you think of Gertrude?'

'Who--I?' said Alaric.

'I can see through a millstone as well as another,' said the captain; 'and I used to think that Norman and Gertrude meant to hit it off together.'

Alaric said nothing. He did not feel inclined to tell Norman's secret, and yet he could not belie Gertrude by contradicting the justice of Captain Cutt.w.a.ter's opinion.

'I used to think so--but now I find there's nothing in it. I am sure Gertrude wouldn't have him, and I think she's right. He hasn't gumption enough.'

'Harry Norman is no fool.'