"Mother," he said, as he sat himself down in her little room up-stairs;--and she knew well by the tone of his voice, and by the mode of his address, that there was to be a solemn occasion, and a serious deliberative council on the present existing family difficulty,--"mother, of course I have intended to let you know what is the nature of Clara"s answer to my letter."
"I am glad there is to be no secret between us, Frederic. You know how I dislike secrets in families." As she said this she took the letter out of her son"s hands with an eagerness that was almost greedy. As she read it, he stood over her, watching her eyes, as they made their way down the first page and on to the second, and across to the third, and so, gradually on, till the whole reading was accomplished. What Clara had written about her cousin Will, Lady Aylmer did not quite understand; and on this point now she was so little anxious that she pa.s.sed over that portion of the letter readily. But when she came to Mrs. Askerton and the allusions to herself, she took care to comprehend the meaning and weight of every word. "Divide your words and mine! Why should we want to divide them?
Not agree with me about Mrs. Askerton! How is it possible that any decent young woman should not agree with me! It is a matter in which there is no room for a doubt. True;--the story true! Of course it is true. Does she not know that it would not have reached her from Aylmer Park if it were not true? Provocation! Badly treated! Went away! Married to Colonel Askerton as soon as Captain Berdmore died!
Why, Frederic, she cannot have been taught to understand the first principle of morals in life! And she that was so much with my poor sister! Well, well!" The reader should understand that the late Mrs.
Winterfield and Lady Aylmer had never been able to agree with each other on religious subjects. "Remember that they are married. Why should we remember anything of the kind? It does not make an atom of difference to the woman"s character. Repented! How can Clara say whether she has repented or not? But that has nothing to do with it. Not quarrel with her,--as she calls it! Not give her up!
Then, Frederic, of course it must be all over, as far as you are concerned." When she had finished her reading, she returned the letter, still open, to her son, shaking her head almost triumphantly.
"As far as I am a judge of a young woman"s character, I can only give you one counsel," said Lady Aylmer solemnly.
"I think that she should have another chance," said Captain Aylmer.
"What other chance can you give her? It seems to me that she is obstinately bent on her own destruction."
"You might ask her to come here, as Belinda suggested."
"Belinda was very foolish to suggest anything of the kind without more consideration."
"I suppose that my future wife would be made welcome here?"
"Yes, Frederic, certainly. I do not know who could be more welcome.
But is she to be your wife?"
"We are engaged."
"But does not that letter break any engagement? Is there not enough in that to make such a marriage quite out of the question? What do you think about it yourself, Frederic?"
"I think that she should have another chance."
What would Clara have thought of all this herself, if she could have heard the conversation between Lady Aylmer and her betrothed husband, and have known that her lover was proposing to give her "another chance?" But it is lucky for us that we seldom know what our best friends say on our behalf, when they discuss us and our faults behind our backs.
"What chance, Frederic, can she have? She knows all about this horrid woman, and yet refuses to give her up! What chance can she have after that?"
"I think that you might have her here,--and talk to her." Lady Aylmer, in answer to this, simply shook her head. And I think she was right in supposing that such shaking of her head was a sufficient reply to her son"s proposition. What talking could possibly be of service to such a one as this Miss Amedroz? Why should she throw her pearls before swine? "We must either ask her to come here, or else I must go to her," said Captain Aylmer.
"I don"t see that at all, Frederic."
"I think it must be so. As she is situated at present she has got no home; and I think it would be very horrid that she should be driven into that woman"s house, simply because she has no other shelter for her head."
"I suppose she can remain where she is for the present?"
"She is all alone, you know; and it must be very gloomy;--and her cousin can turn her out at a moment"s notice."
"But all that would not ent.i.tle her to come here, unless--"
"No;--I quite understand that. But you cannot wonder that I should feel the hardship of her position."
"Who is to be blamed if it be hard? You see, Frederic, I take my standing upon that letter;--her own letter. How am I to ask a young woman into my house who declares openly that my opinion on such a matter goes for nothing with her? How am I to do it? That"s what I ask you. How am I to do it? It"s all very well for Belinda to suggest this and that. But how am I to do it? That"s what I want to know."
But at last Lady Aylmer managed to answer the question for herself, and did do it. But this was not done on that Sunday afternoon, nor on the Monday, nor on the Tuesday. The question was closely debated, and at last the anxious mother perceived that the giving of the invitation would be more safe than withholding it. Captain Aylmer at last expressed his determination to go to Belton unless the invitation were given; and then, should he do that, there might be danger that he would never be again seen at Aylmer Park till he brought Clara Amedroz with him as his wife. The position was one of great difficulty, but the interests at stake were so immense that something must be risked. It might be that Clara would not come when invited, and in that case her obstinacy would be a great point gained. And if she did come--! Well; Lady Aylmer admitted to herself that the game would be difficult,--difficult and very troublesome; but yet it might be played, and perhaps won. Lady Aylmer was a woman who had great confidence in herself. Not so utterly had victory in such contests deserted her hands, that she need fear to break a lance with Miss Amedroz beneath her own roof, when the occasion was so pressing.
The invitation was therefore sent in a note written by herself, and was enclosed in a letter from her son. After much consultation and many doubts on the subject, it was at last agreed that nothing further should now be urged about Mrs. Askerton. "She shall have her chance," said Lady Aylmer over and over again, repeating her son"s words. "She shall have her chance." Lady Aylmer, therefore, in her note, confined herself strictly to the giving of the invitation, and to a suggestion that, as Clara had now no settled home of her own, a temporary sojourn at Aylmer Park might be expedient. And Captain Aylmer in his letter hardly said much more. He knew, as he wrote the words, that they were cold and comfortless, and that he ought on such an occasion to have written words that should have been warm at any rate, even though they might not have contained comfort. But, to have written with affection, he should have written at once, and he had postponed his letter from the Sunday till the Wednesday. It had been absolutely necessary that that important question as to the invitation should be answered before he could write at all.
When all this was settled he went up to London; and there was an understanding between him and his mother that he should return to Aylmer Park with Clara, in the event of her acceptance of the invitation.
"You won"t go down to Belton for her?" said the mother.
"No;--I do not think that will be necessary," said the son.
"I should think not," said the mother.
CHAPTER XX.
WILLIAM BELTON DOES NOT GO OUT HUNTING.
We will now follow the other message which was sent down into Norfolk, and which did not get into Belton"s hands till the Monday morning. He was sitting with his sister at breakfast, and was prepared for hunting, when the paper was brought into the room.
Telegraphic messages were not very common at Plaistow Hall, and on the arrival of any that had as yet reached that house, something of that awe had been felt with which such missives were always accompanied in their earliest days. "A telegruff message, mum, for Mr. William," said the maid, looking at her mistress with eyes opened wide, as she handed the important bit of paper to her master. Will opened it rapidly, laying down the knife and fork with which he was about to operate upon a ham before him. He was dressed in boots and breeches, and a scarlet coat,--in which garb he was, in his sister"s eyes, the most handsome man in Norfolk.
"Oh, Mary!" he exclaimed.
"What is it, Will?"
"Mr. Amedroz is dead."
Miss Belton put out her hand for the paper before she spoke again, as though she could better appreciate the truth of what she heard when reading it herself on the telegraph slip than she had done from her brother"s words. "How sudden! how terribly sudden!" she said.
"Sudden indeed. When I left him he was not well, certainly, but I should have said that he might have lived for twenty years. Poor old man! I can hardly say why it was so, but I had taken a liking to him."
"You take a liking to everybody, Will."
"No I don"t. I know people I don"t like." Will Belton as he said this was thinking of Captain Aylmer, and he pressed the heel of his boot hard against the floor.
"And Mr. Amedroz is dead! It seems to be so terribly sudden. What will she do, Will?"
"That"s what I"m thinking about."
"Of course you are, my dear. I can see that. I wish,--I wish--"
"It"s no good wishing anything, Mary. I don"t think wishing ever did any good yet. If I might have my wish, I shouldn"t know how to have it."
"I was wishing that you didn"t think so much about it."
"You need not be troubled about me. I shall do very well. But what is to become of her,--now at once? Might she not come here? You are now the nearest female relation that she has." Mary looked at him with her anxious, painful eyes, and he knew by her look that she did not approve of his plan. "I could go away," he continued. "She could come to you without being troubled by seeing me.
"And where would you go, Will?"
"What does it matter? To the devil, I suppose."