"I would only hope, my Lord, that the time for such a judgment may be long deferred."
"You are a courtier, sir," said the Judge, smiling. "It was amongst courtiers I pa.s.sed my early youth, and I like them. When I was a young man, Colonel Sewell, it was the fashion to make the tour of Europe as a matter of education and good breeding. The French Court was deemed, and justly deemed, the first school of manners, and I firmly believe France herself has suffered in her forms of politeness from having ceased to be the centre of supply to the world. She adulterated the liquor as the consumers decreased in taste and increased in number."
"How neatly, how admirably expressed!" said Sewell, bowing.
"I had some of that gift once," said the old man, with a sigh; "but it is a weapon out of use nowadays. Epigram has its place in a museum now as rightfully as an Andrea Ferrara."
"I declare, my Lord, it is two o"clock. Here is your servant coming to announce luncheon. I am ashamed to-think what a share of your day I have monopolized."
"You will stay and take some mutton broth, I hope?"
"No, my Lord. I never eat luncheon, and I am, besides, horrified at inflicting you so long already."
"Sir, if I suffer many of the miseries of old age, I avail myself of some of its few privileges. One of the best of these is, never to be bored. I am old and feeble enough to be able to say to him who wearies me, Leave me--leave-me to myself and my own dreariness. Had you "inflicted" me, as you call it, I "d have said as much two hours ago.
Your company was, however, most agreeable. You know how to talk, and, what is rarer, you know how to listen."
Sewell bowed respectfully and in silence.
"I wish the school that trains aides-de-camp could be open to junior barristers and curates," muttered he, half to himself; then added aloud, "Come and see me soon again. Come to breakfast, or, if you prefer it, to dinner. We dine at seven;" and without further adieu than a slight wave of his hand, he turned away and entered the house.
CHAPTER XXVI. SIR BROOK IN CONFUSION
Tom Lendrick had just parted with his sister as Fossbrooke came up, and, taking his arm in silence, moved slowly down the road.
Seeing his deep preoccupation, Tom did not speak for some time, but walked along without a word. "I hope you found my grandfather in better temper, sir?" asked Tom, at last.
"He refused to receive me; he pleaded illness, or rather he called it by its true name, indisposition. He deputed another gentleman to meet me,--a Colonel Sewell, his stepson."
"That "s the man my father saw at the Cape; a clever sort of person he called him, but, I suspect, not one to his liking; too much man of the world,--too much man of fashion for poor Dad."
"I hope so," muttered Fossbrooke, unconsciously.
"Indeed, sir; and why?" asked Tom, eagerly.
"What of Lucy?" said Sir Brook, abruptly; "how did you think she was looking?"
"Well, sir, on the whole, well. I"ve seen her jollier; but, to be sure, it was a leave-taking to-day, and that"s not the occasion to put one in high spirits. Poor girl, she said, "Is it not hard, Tom? There are only three of us, and we must all live apart.""
"So it is,--hard, very hard. I "d have tried once more to influence the old Judge if he "d have given me a meeting. He may do worse with that office than bestow it on you, Tom. I believe I"d have told him as much."
"It"s perhaps as well, sir, that you did not see him," said Tom, with a faint smile.
"Yes," said Fossbrooke, following along the train of his own thoughts, and not noticing the other"s remark. "He may do worse; he may give it to _him_, and thus draw closer the ties between them; and if _that_ man once gets admission there, he"ll get influence."
"Of whom are you talking, sir?"
"I was not speaking, Tom. I was turning over some things in my mind. By the way, we have much to do before evening. Go over to Hodgen"s about those tools; he has not sent them yet: and the blasting-powder, too, has not come down. I ought, if I could manage the time, to test it; but it "s too late. I must go to the Castle for five minutes,--five minutes will do it; and I "ll pa.s.s by Grainger"s on my way back, and buy the flannel--miners" flannel they call it in the advertis.e.m.e.nt. We must look our _metier_, Tom, eh? You told Lucy where to write, and how to address us, I hope?"
"Yes, sir, she wrote it down. By the way, that reminds me of a letter she gave me for you. It was addressed to her care, and came yesterday."
The old man thrust it in his pocket without so much as a look at it.
"I think the post-mark was Madeira," said Tom, to try and excite some curiosity.
"Possibly. I have correspondents everywhere."
"It looked like Trafford"s writing, I thought."
"Indeed! let us see;" and he drew forth the letter, and broke the envelope. "Right enough, Tom,--it is Trafford."
He ran his eyes rapidly over the first lines, turned to the next side, and then to the end of the letter, and then once more began at the beginning.
"This is his third attempt, he says, to reach me, having written twice without any acknowledgment; hence he has taken the liberty--and a very great liberty too--to address the present to the care of your sister.
His brother died in March last, and the younger brother has now shown symptoms of the same malady, and has been sent out to Madeira. "I could not," he writes,--"I could not refuse to come out here with him, however eager I was to go to Ireland. You can well believe,""--here the old man slurred over the words, and murmured inaudibly for some seconds. "I see," added he at last, "he has gone back to his old regiment, with good hopes of the majority. "Hinks is sick of the service, and quite willing to leave. Harvey, however, stands above me, and deems it a cruel thing to be pa.s.sed over. I must have your advice about this, as well as about--"" Here again he dropped his voice and mumbled unintelligibly.
At length he read on: ""What is Tom doing? What a shame it would be if a fellow with such abilities should not make his way!""
"A crying shame," burst in Tom, "but I neither see the abilities nor the way; would he kindly indicate how to find either or both?"
""My mother suggested,"" read on Sir Brook, ""two or three things which my father could readily obtain, but you know the price of the promotion; you know what I would have to--"" Here, once more, the old man stopped abruptly.
"Pray go on, sir," cried Tom, eagerly; "this interests me much, and as it touches myself I have half a claim to hear it."
Sir Brook gave no heed to the request, but read on in silence and to himself. Turning to the last page, he said: ""I may then hope to be in England by the end of the month. I shall not go down to Holt, but straight to Dublin. My leave will expire on the 28th, and this will give me a good excuse for not going home. I am sure you will agree with me that I am doing the right thing.
""If I am fortunate enough to meet you in Dublin, I can ask your advice on many things which press for solution; but if you should have left Ireland and gone heaven knows where, what is to become of me?""
"Got into debt again, evidently," said Tom, as he puffed his cigar.
"Nothing of the kind. I know thoroughly what he alludes to, though I am not at liberty to speak of it. He wishes me to leave our address with Colonel Cave at the barracks, and that if we should have left Ireland already, he "ll try and manage a month"s leave, and pay us a visit."
"I declare I guessed that!" burst out Tom. "I had a dread of it, from the very day we first planned our project. I said to myself, So sure as we settle down to work,--to work like men who have no thought but how to earn their bread,--some lavender-gloved fellow, with a dressing-case and three hat-boxes, will drop down to disgust us alike with our own hardships and _his_ foppery."
"He"ll not come," said Sir Brook, calmly; "and if he should, he will be welcome."
"Oh! as to that," stammered out Tom, somewhat ashamed of his late warmth, "Trafford is perhaps the one exception to the sort of thing I am afraid of. He is a fine, manly, candid fellow, with no affectations nor any pretensions."
"A gentleman, sir,--just a gentleman, and of a very good type."
The last few lines of the letter were small and finely written, and cost the old man some time to decipher. At last he read them aloud. ""Am I asking what you would see any objection to accord me, if I entreat you to give me some letter of introduction or presentation to the Chief t Baron? I presume that you know him; and I presume that he might not refuse to know _me_. It is possible I may be wrong in either or both of these a.s.sumptions. I am sure you will be frank in your reply to this request of mine, and say No, if you dislike to say Yes. I made the acquaintance of Colonel Sewell, the Judge"s step-son, at the Cape; but I suspect--I may be wrong--but I suspect that to be presented by the Colonel might not be the smoothest road to his Lordship"s acquaintance,--I was going to write "favor," but I have no pretension, as yet at least, to aspire that far."
""The Colonel himself told me that his mother and Sir William never met without a quarrel. His affectionate remark was that the Chief Baron was the only creature in Europe whose temper was worse than Lady Lendrick"s, and it would be a blessing to humanity if they could be induced to live together.
""I saw a good deal of the Se wells at the Cape. She is charming! She was a Dillon, and her mother a Lascelles, some forty-fifth cousin of my mother"s,--quite enough of relationship, however, to excuse a very rapid intimacy, so that I dined there when I liked, and uninvited. I did not like _him_ so well; but then he beat me at billiards, and always won my money at _ecarte_, and of course these are detracting ingredients which ought not to be thrown into the scale.
""How she sings! I don"t know how you, with your rapturous love of music, would escape falling in love with her: all the more that she seems to me one who expects that sort of homage, and thinks herself defrauded if denied it. If the Lord Chief Baron is fond of ballads, he has been her captive this many a day.