"Go on with the reading," muttered Malone.
"I have read enough of it, Peter Malone. You are cute enough to see by this time what a fine-hearted, generous, loving creature you have for a granddaughter. At all events, the dose you"ve taken now, ought to be enough for a day. So put up the physic"--here he handed him the letter--"and whenever you feel in want of a little more, come back, and I"ll measure it out for you!"
"You"re a hard man, you"re a hard man, Mr. O"Rorke," said the old fellow, as he kissed the letter twice fervently, and then placed it in his bosom.
"I"m a hard man because I read you out her own words, just as she wrote them."
"You"re a hard man, or you"d not want to crush one as old and feeble as me!" And so saying, he went his way.
CHAPTER x.x.xII. MR. M"KINLAY IN ITALY
As there are periods in life, quiet and tranquil periods, in which the mind reverts to the past, and dwells on bygones, so in story-telling there are little intervals in which a brief retrospect is pardonable, and it is to one of these I would now ask my reader"s attention.
There was not anything very eventful in Mr. M"Kinlay"s journey across Europe with Ada and her governess. They met with no other adventures than occur to all travellers by land or by water; but on arriving at Ma.r.s.eilles, a letter from Lady Vyner apprised them that Sir Gervais was slightly indisposed, and requested Mr. M"Kinlay would complete his kindness by giving them his company and protection as far as Genoa, at a short distance from which city, and in one of those little sheltered nooks of the Riviera, they had now established themselves in a villa.
It is but truthful to own, that the lawyer did not comply with this request either willingly or gracefully. He never liked the Continent, he was an indifferent linguist, he detested the cookery, and fancied that the wines poisoned him. Mademoiselle Heinzleman, too, was fussy, meddling, and officious, presuming, at least he thought so, on being in an element more her own. And as for Ada, grief at separating from Kate had made her so indifferent and apathetic, that she neither enjoyed the journey or took any interest in the new scenes and objects around her.
Mr. M"Kinlay, therefore, was in no mood to proceed farther; he was tired of it all. But, besides this, he was not quite certain that he had done the right thing by placing Kate O"Hara at Dalradern; or that in so doing he had carried out the very vague instructions of Miss Courtenay. Not that the lawyer saw his way at all in the whole affair. The absurd suspicions of the old envoy about some secret contract, or marriage, or some mysterious bond, he could afford to deride; but, unhappily, he could not as easily forget, and some doubts--very ungenerous and ungallant doubts they were--would cross his mind, that Miss Georgina Courtenay"s favour to himself, in some way or other, depended on the changeful fortunes of some other "issue," of which he knew nothing. "She means to accept me if she can get nothing better," was the phrase that he found on his lips when he awoke, and heard himself muttering as he dropped off asleep at night; and, after all, the consideration was not either rea.s.suring or flattering. Middle-aged gentlemen, even with incipient baldness and indolent "proclivities," do not fancy being consigned to the category of "last resorts." They fancy--Heaven help them!--that they have their claims on regard, esteem, and something stronger too; and doubtless the delusion has its influence in fighting off, for a year or two, the inevitable admission that they have dropped out of the "van" into that veteran battalion which furnishes no more guards of honour at the Temple of Venus, nor even a sentinel at the gate. Very ungallant little sums in arithmetic, too, used he to work about Georgina"s age; and it would seem strange to younger men the anxiety he felt to give her a year or two more than she had a right to.
"I"m not sure she"s not nearer thirty-five than thirty-two," muttered he, ill naturedly, to himself. "Rickards said, one night, she was older than her sister, though the old rascal took care to come and tell me in the morning that it was a mistake." And then, by subtracting this thirty-five from another arbitrary sum, he obtained a result apparently satisfactory, being, as he termed it, the proper difference of age between man and wife! Why will not men, in their zeal for truth, take "evidence for the defence" occasionally, and ask a woman"s opinion on.
this subject?
They arrived at last at the Villa Balbi, a grand old palace on the sea-side, where ruin and splendour were blended up together, and statues, and fountains, and frescoes struggled for the mastery over a rank growth of vegetation, that seemed to threaten enclosing the whole place in a leafy embrace. Into the deep arches that supported the terrace, the blue Mediterranean flowed with that noiseless motion of this all but tideless sea. All was silent as they drove up to the gate, for they had not been expected before the morrow-. Scarcely was the door opened than Ada sprung out and disappeared up the stairs, followed as well as she might by the governess. Mr. M"Kinlay was then left alone, or, at least, with no other companionship than some three or four servants, whose attempts at English were by no means successful.
"Ah, Miller, I"m glad to see _your_ face at last," said the lawyer, as Sir Gervais"s valet pushed his way through the crowd; "how are all here?"
"Sir Gervais has had a bad night, Sir, and we were expecting the doctor every moment. Indeed, when I heard your carriage, I thought it was he had come."
"Not seriously ill, I hope?"
"Not that, perhaps, Sir; but the doctor calls it a very slow fever, and requiring great care and perfect quiet. He is not to know when Miss Ada arrives."
"And the ladies, are they well?"
"My Lady"s greatly tired and fatigued, Sir, of course; but Miss Courtenay is well. She was just giving directions about your room, Sir.
She said, "If Mr. M"Kinlay should be afraid of this fever, you can take him down to the fattore"s house, and make him up a room there.""
"Is it a fever then, Miller, a real fever?"
"They call it so, Sir."
"This is all that"s wanting," muttered M"Kinlay to himself. "I only need to catch some confounded disorder, now, to make this the most happy exploit of my whole life! Where is this house you speak of?"
"At the foot of the hill, Sir, where you saw the clump of evergreen oaks."
"Why, it was a dirty-looking hovel, with Indian corn hung all over it."
"Well, Sir, it ain"t very clean to look at, but it"s not so bad inside, and you can be sure of a comfortable bed."
"I don"t see why I am to stop at all. I have seen Miss Ada safe to her own door; I really cannot perceive that anything more is required of me," said he to himself, as he walked up and down the terrace.
"You"d like to eat something, perhaps, Sir? Supper is ready whenever you wish it."
"Yes, I"ll eat a morsel; I was very hungry half an hour ago, but all this tidings of illness and infection has driven away my appet.i.te. A vast roomy old place this appears," said he, as he followed the serrant across a hall s.p.a.cious as a public square, into a salon large enough to be a church.
"We have five like this, Sir; and on the other floor there is one still larger and loftier."
"How long are you here?" said the lawyer, abruptly, for he was not at all in love with the mansion.
"We shall be two months here on Tuesday, and her Ladyship likes it so much, Sir Gervais means to buy it."
"Well, I hope I shall not be much more than two hours in it. Let me have something to eat, and order fresh horses at the post."
"You"ll see my Lady, I suppose, Sir?"
"Of course, if she can receive me; but I will just send up a line on my card to say that my departure at once is imperatively necessary."
Few as the words were that were required to convey this message, Mr.
M"Kinlay could scarcely write them in a legible way. He was nervously afraid of an illness; but the thought of a foreign malady--a fever of some outlandish type--was a terror as great as the attack of a savage animal, of whose instinct and ways he knew nothing. All the speculations which had filled his head as he came along the road, were routed at once. Love-making and marriage were all very well, but they might be purchased too dearly. A dowry that was only to be won by facing a fever, was a sorry speculation. No! he would have none of such dangerous ambitions. He had gone through enough already--he had braved shipwreck--and if needs were that he must resign the agency, better that than resign life itself.
Not even the appetising supper that was now spread before him, could dispel these gloomy thoughts. He was half afraid to eat, and he could not be sure that wine was safe under the present circ.u.mstances.
"My Lady hoped to see you in the morning, Sir," said the valet. "She has just lain down, having been up last night with Sir Gervais."
"I am extremely sorry! I am greatly distressed! But it is impossible for me to defer my departure. I will explain it all by a letter. Just unstrap that writing-desk, and I will write a few lines. You ordered the horses, I hope?"
"Yes, Sir; they will be at the door by ten o"clock."
"Miss Courtenay knows I am here, I suppose?" said M"Kinlay, in a tone of well put-on indifference, as he opened his writing-desk and arranged his papers.
"I don"t know, indeed, Sir; but she has the governess in her room with her, and perhaps she has heard it from her."
Mr. M"Kinlay bit his lip with impatience; he was vexed, and he was angry. Nor altogether was it unreasonable; he had come a long journey, at considerable inconvenience, and at a time he could be ill-spared from his clients; he had undergone fatigue and annoyance--the sort of annoyance which, to men who dislike the Continent, is not a trifling matter--and here he was now, about to set out again without so much as a word of thanks, not even a word of acknowledgment. What were they, or what was he, to justify such treatment? This was the somewhat irritating query to which all his self-examination reverted. "Am I a lacquey!"
cried he, as he threw down his pen in a pa.s.sionate outburst that completely overcame him. "I suppose they think I am a lacquey!" and he pushed back from the table in disgust.
"Miss Courtenay, Sir, would be pleased to see you in the drawing-room, Sir, whenever it was convenient," said a thin-looking damsel of unmistakably English mould.
"I will wait upon her now," said Mr. M"Kinlay, with the severe accents of an injured and indignant man. In fact, he spoke like one whose coming might be supposed to evoke sentiments of trepidation, if not of awe; and yet, after he had uttered the words, he fussed and pottered amongst his papers, arranging and settling, and undoing, in a way that to any shrewder observer than the Abigail, would have discovered a mind not by any means so bent upon peremptory action as he had a.s.sumed to bespeak.
"Will you show me the way?" said he, at last, as he locked up the writing-desk, and now followed her through room after room, till the girl stopped at a door and knocked gently. No answer was returned, and she repeated the summons, on which the maid opened the door, saying, "If you"ll step inside, Sir, I"ll tell my mistress you are here;" and Mr.
M"Kinlay entered into what his first footstep informed him was a lady"s boudoir. It was a small room, opening on a terrace by two windows, which were thrown wide, filling the chamber with the odour of orange-flowers to a degree positively oppressive. An alabaster lamp was the only light, and served merely to throw a sort of faint sunset-glow over the room, which seemed filled with cabinet pictures and statuettes, and had an easel in one corner with an unfinished sketch in oils upon it. The perfume of orange and magnolia was so overcoming that the lawyer moved out upon the terrace, which descended by a flight of marble steps into the sea. He sat down on these to inhale the fresh night air, for already his head was beginning to feel confused and addled by the strong odours.
He had not been many minutes there, when he heard the rustle of a lady"s dress close to him, and before he could arise, Miss Courtenay moved forward and sat down beside him.
"How are you, Mr. M"Kinlay?" said she, giving him her hand cordially. "I have come to thank you for all your care of Ada, and your kindness to us all."
These very simple words were delivered with a most winning grace of look and manner. No wonder if he forgot all his irritation of a few moments before; no wonder if in the very unexpectedness of this pleasure, he felt somewhat confused; and it but needed that starlight hour, that perfumed air, that murmuring sea, and the light gauzy veil, which in Genoese mode Georgina wore in her hair, and which now floated carelessly half across his arm, to make Mr. M"Kinlay think this one of the happiest moments of his life.