She knew everything!
"Very fond of my daughter--the ladies," he remarked.
"I wish her well."
"You are very kind."
Mrs. Burman communed within or slept. "Victor, Natalia, we will pray,"
she said.
Her trembling hands crossed their fingers. Nataly slipped to her knees.
The two women mutely praying, pulled Victor into the devotional hush. It acted on him like the silent spell of service in a Church. He forgot his estimate of the minutes, he formed a prayer, he refused to hear the Cupid swinging, he droned a sound of sentences to deaden his ears. Ideas of eternity rolled in semblance of enormous clouds. Death was a black bird among them. The piano rang to Nataly"s young voice and his. The gold and white of the chairs welcomed a youth suddenly enrolled among the wealthy by an enamoured old lady on his arm. Cupid tick-ticked.--Poor soul! poor woman! How little we mean to do harm when we do an injury! An incomprehensible world indeed at the bottom and at the top. We get on fairly at the centre. Yet it is there that we do the mischief making such a riddle of the bottom and the top. What is to be said! Prayer quiets one. Victor peered at Nataly fervently on her knees and Mrs. Burman bowed over her knotted fingers. The earnestness of both enforced an effort at a phrased prayer in him. Plungeing through a wave of the scent of Marechale, that was a tremendous memory to haul him backward and forward, he beheld his prayer dancing across the furniture; a diminutive thin black figure, elvish, irreverent, appallingly unlike his proper emotion; and he brought his hands just to touch, and got to the edge of his chair, with split knees. At once the figure vanished.
By merely looking at Nataly, he pa.s.sed into her prayer. A look at Mrs.
Burman made it personal, his own. He heard the cluck of a horrible sob coming from him. After a repet.i.tion of his short form of prayer deeply stressed, he thanked himself with the word "sincere," and a queer side-thought on our human susceptibility to the influence of posture. We are such creatures.
Nataly resumed her seat. Mrs. Burman had raised her head. She said: "We are at peace." She presently said, with effort: "It cannot last with me.
I die in nature"s way. I would bear forgiveness with me, that I may have it above. I give it here, to you, to all. My soul is cleansed, I trust.
Much was to say. My strength will not. Unto G.o.d, you both!"
The Rev. Groseman b.u.t.termore was moving on slippered step to the back of the sofa. Nataly dropped before the unseeing, scarce breathing, lady for an instant. Victor murmured an adieu, grateful for being spared the ceremonial shake of hands. He turned away, then turned back, praying for power to speak, to say that he had found his heart, was grateful, would hold her in memory. He fell on a knee before her, and forgot he had done so when he had risen. They were conducted by the Rev. gentleman to the hall-door: he was not speechless. Jarniman uttered something.
That black door closed behind them.
CHAPTER XLI. THE NIGHT OF THE GREAT UNDELIVERED SPEECH
To a man issuing from a mortuary where a skull had voice, London may be restorative as air of Summer Alps. It is by contrast blooming life.
Observe the fellowship of the houses shoulder to shoulder; and that straight ascending smoke of the preparation for dinner; and the good policeman yonder, blessedly idle on an orderly Sabbath evening; and the families of the minor people trotting homeward from the park to tea; here and again an amiable carriage of the superimposed people driving to pay visits; they are so social, friendly, inviting to him; they strip him of the shroud, sing of the sweet old world. He cannot but be moved to the extremity of the charitableness neighbouring on tears.
A stupefaction at the shock of the positive reminder, echo of the fact still shouting in his breast, that he had seen Mrs. Burman, and that the interview was over--the leaf turned and the book shut held Victor in a silence until his gratefulness to London City was borne down by the more human burst of grat.i.tude to the dying woman, who had spared him, as much as she could, a scene of the convulsive pathetic, and had not called on him for any utterance of penitence. That worm-like thread of voice came up to him still from s.e.xton-depths: it sounded a larger forgiveness without the word. He felt the sorrow of it all, as he told Nataly; at the same time bidding her smell "the marvellous oxygen of the park." He declared it to be quite equal to Lakelands.
She slightly pressed his arm for answer. Perhaps she did not feel so deeply? She was free of the horrid a.s.sociations with the scent of Marechale. At any rate, she had comported herself admirably!
Victor fancied he must have shuddered when he pa.s.sed by Jarniman at the door, who was almost now seeing his mistress"s ghost--would have the privilege to-morrow. He called a cab and drove to Mrs. John Cormyn"s, at Nataly"s request, for Nesta and mademoiselle: enjoying the Londonized odour of the cab. Nataly did not respond to his warm and continued eulogies of Mrs. Burman; she rather disappointed him. He talked of the gold and white furniture, he just alluded to the Cupid: reserving his mental comment, that the time-piece was all astray, the Cupid regular on the swing:--strange, touching, terrible, if really the silly gilt figure symbolized!... And we are a silly figure to be sitting in a cab imagining such things!--When Nesta and mademoiselle were opposite, he had the pleasure to see Nataly take Nesta"s hand and hold it until they reached home. Those two talking together in the brief words of their deep feeling, had tones that were singularly alike: the mezzo-soprano filial to the divine maternal contralto. Those two dear ones mounted to Nataly"s room.
The two dear ones showed themselves heart in heart together once more; each looked the happier for it. Dartrey was among their dinner-guests, and Nataly took him to her little blue-room before she went to bed. He did not speak of their conversation to Victor, but counselled him to keep her from excitement. "My dear fellow, if you had seen her with Mrs.
Burman!" Victor said, and loudly praised her coolness. She was never below a situation, he affirmed.
He followed his own counsel to humour his Nataly. She began panting at a word about Mr. Barmby"s ready services. When, however, she related the state of affairs between Dartrey and Nesta, by the avowal of each of them to her, he said, embracing her: "Your wisdom shall guide us, my love," and almost extinguished a vexation by concealing it.
She sighed: "If one could think, that a girl with Nesta"s revolutionary ideas of the duties of women, and their powers, would be safe--or at all rightly guided by a man who is both one of the n.o.blest and the wildest in the ideas he entertains!"
Victor sighed too. He saw the earldom, which was to dazzle the gossips, crack on the sky in a futile rocket-bouquet.
She was distressed; she moaned: "My girl! my girl: I should wish to leave her with one who is more fixed--the old-fashioned husband. New ideas must come in politics, but in Society!--and for women! And the young having heads, are the most endangered. Nesta vows her life to it!
Dartrey supports her!"
"See Colney," said Victor. "Odd, Colney does you good; some queer way he has. Though you don"t care for his RIVAL TONGUES,--and the last number was funny, with Semhians on the Pacific, impressively addressing a farewell to his cricket-bat, before he whirls it away to Neptune--and the blue hand of his nation"s protecting G.o.d observed to seize it!--Dead failure with the public, of course! However, he seems to seem wise with you. The poor old fellow gets his trouncing from the critics monthly.
See Colney to-morrow, my love. Now go to sleep. We have got over the worst. I speak at my Meeting to-morrow and am a champagne-bottle of notes and points for them."
His lost Idea drew close to him in sleep: or he thought so, when awaking to the conception of a people solidified, rich and poor, by the common pride of simple manhood. But it was not coloured, not a luminous globe: and the people were in drab, not a shining army on the march to meet the Future. It looked like a paragraph in a newspaper, upon which a Leading Article sits, dutifully arousing the fat worm of sarcastic humour under the ribs of cradled citizens, with an exposure of its excellent folly.
He would not have it laughed at; still he could not admit it as more than a skirt of the robe of his Idea. For let none think him a mere City merchant, millionnaire, boon-fellow, or music-loving man of the world.
He had ideas to shoot across future Ages;--provide against the shrinkage of our Coal-beds; against, and for, if you like, the thickening, jumbling, threatening excess of population in these Islands, in Europe, America, all over our habitable sphere. Now that Mrs. Burman, on her way to bliss, was no longer the dungeon-cell for the man he would show himself to be, this name for successes, corporate nucleus of the enjoyments, this Victor Montgomery Radnor, intended impressing himself upon the world as a factory of ideas. Colney"s insolent charge, that the English have no imagination--a doomed race, if it be true!--would be confuted. For our English require but the lighted leadership to come into cohesion, and step ranked, and chant harmoniously the song of their benevolent aim. And that astral head giving, as a commencement, example of the right use of riches, the nation is one, part of the riddle of the future solved.
Surely he had here the Idea? He had it so warmly, that his bath-water heated. Only the vision was wanted.
On London Bridge he had seen it--a great thing done to the flash of brilliant results. That was after a fall.
There had been a fall also of the scheme of Lakelands.
Come to us with no superst.i.tious whispers of indications and significations in the fall!--But there had certainly been a moral fall, fully to the level of the physical, in the maintaining of that scheme of Lakelands, now ruined by his incomprehensible Nesta--who had saved him from falling further. His bath-water chilled. He jumped out and rubbed furiously with his towels and flesh-brushes, chasing the Idea for simple warmth, to have Something inside him, to feel just that sustainment; with the cry: But no one can say I do not love my Nataly! And he tested it to prove it by his readiness to die for her: which is heroically easier than the devotedly living, and has a weight of evidence in our internal Courts for surpa.s.sing the latter tedious performance.
His Nesta had knocked Lakelands to pieces. Except for the making of money, the whole year of an erected Lakelands, notwithstanding uninterrupted successes, was a blank. Or rather we have to wish it were a blank. The scheme departs: payment for the enlisted servants of it is in prospect. A black agent, not willingly enlisted, yet pointing to proofs of service, refuses payment in ordinary coin; and we tell him we owe him nothing, that he is not a man of the world, has no understanding of Nature: and still the fellow thumps and alarums at a midnight door we are astonished to find we have in our daylight house. How is it? Would other men be so sensitive to him? Victor was appeased by the a.s.surance of his possession of an exceptionally scrupulous conscience; and he settled the debate by thinking: "After all, for a man like me, battling incessantly, a kind of Vesuvius, I must have--can"t be starved, must be fed--though, pah! But I"m not to be questioned like other men.--But how about an aristocracy of the contempt of distinctions?--But there is no escaping distinctions! my aristocracy despises indulgence.--And indulges?--Say, an exceptional nature! Supposing a certain beloved woman to p.r.o.nounce on the case?--She cannot: no woman can be a just judge of it."---He cried: My love of her is testified by my having Barmby handy to right her to-day, tomorrow, the very instant the clock strikes the hour of my release!
Mention of the clock swung that silly gilt figure. Victor entered into it, condemned to swing, and be a thrall. His intensity of sensation launched him on an eternity of the swinging in ridiculous nakedness to the measure of time gone crazy. He had to correct a reproof of Mrs.
Burman, as the cause of the nonsense. He ran down to breakfast, hopeing he might hear of that clock stopped, and that sickening motion with it.
Another letter from the Sanfredini in Milan, warmly inviting to her villa over Como, acted on him at breakfast like the waving of a banner.
"We go," Victor said to Nataly, and flattered-up a smile about her lips--too much a resurrection smile. There was talk of the Meeting at the theatre: Simeon Fenellan had spoken there in the cause of the deceased Member, was known, and was likely to have a good reception. Fun and enthusiasm might be expected.
"And my darling will hear her husband speak to-night," he whispered as he was departing; and did a mischief, he had to fear, for a shadowy knot crossed Nataly"s forehead, she seemed paler. He sent back Nesta and mademoiselle, in consequence, at the end of the Green Park.
Their dinner-hour was early; Simeon Fenellan, Colney Durance, and Mr. Peridon--pleasing to Nataly for his faithful siege of the French fortress--were the only guests. When they rose, Nataly drew Victor aside. He came dismayed to Nesta. She ran to her mother. "Not hear papa speak? Oh, mother, mother! Then I stay with her. But can"t she come? He is going to unfold ideas to us. There!"
"My naughty girl is not to poke her fun at orators," Nataly said. "No, dearest; it would agitate me to go. I"m better here. I shall be at peace when the night is over."
"But you will be all alone here, dear mother."
Nataly"s eyes wandered to fall on Colney. He proposed to give her his company. She declined it. Nesta ventured another entreaty, either that she might be allowed to stay or have her mother with her at the Meeting.
"My love," Nataly said, "the thought of the Meeting--" She clasped at her breast; and she murmured: "I shall be comforted by your being with him. There is no danger there. But I shall be happy, I shall be at peace when this night is over."
Colney persuaded her to have him for companion. Mr. Peridon, who was to have driven with Nesta and mademoiselle, won admiration by proposing to stay for an hour and play some of Mrs. Radnor"s favourite pieces. Nesta and Victor overbore Nataly"s objections to the lover"s generosity. So Mr. Peridon was left. Nesta came hurrying back from the step of the carriage to kiss her mother again, saying: "Just one last kiss, my own!
And she"s not to look troubled. I shall remember everything to tell my own mother. It will soon be over."
Her mother nodded; but the embrace was pa.s.sionate.
Nesta called her father into the pa.s.sage, bidding him prohibit any delivery to her mother of news at the door. "She is easily startled now by trifles--you have noticed?"
Victor summoned his recollections and a.s.sured her he had noticed, as he believed he had "The dear heart of her is fretting for the night to be over! And think! seven days, and she is in Lakelands. A fortnight, and we have our first Concert. Durandarte! Oh, the dear heart "ll be at peace when I tell her of a triumphant Meeting. Not a doubt of that, even though Colney turns the shadow of his back on us."
"One critic the less for you!" said Nesta. Skepsey was to meet her carriage at the theatre.
Ten minutes later, Victor and Simeon Fenellan were proceeding thitherward on foot.
"I have my speech," said Victor. "You prepare the way for me, following our influential friend Dubbleson; Colewort winds up; any one else they shout for. We shall have a great evening. I suspect I shall find Themison or Jarniman when I get home. You don"t believe in intimations?