"But I ought, at least, to appear in the battery, my dear. They "ll say that I stayed away on account of that young fellow Nelligan; he has a brief in that cause, and I know he "d like another tussle with me. By the way, Miss Mary, that reminds me that I promised him to make his--no, not his excuses, he was too manly for that; but his--his explanations to you about yesterday"s business. He was sorely grieved at the part a.s.signed him; he spoke feelingly of all the attentions he once met at your uncle"s hands, but far more so of certain kindnesses shown to his mother by yourself; and surmising that you might be unaware of the exacting nature of our bar etiquette, that leaves no man at liberty to decline a cause, he tortured himself inventing means to set himself right with you."
"But I know your etiquette, sir, and I respect it; and Mr. Nelligan never stood higher in my estimation than by his conduct of yesterday.
You can tell him, therefore, that you saw there was no necessity to touch on the topic; it will leave less unpleasantness if we should meet again."
"What a diplomatist it is!" said Repton, smiling affectionately at her.
"How successful must all this tact be when engaged with the people! Nay, no denial; you know in your heart what subtle devices it supplies you with."
"And yet, I "m not so certain that what you call my diplomacy may not have involved me in some trouble,--at least, there is the chance of it."
"As how, my dear child?"
"You shall hear, sir. You know the story of that poor girl at Barnagheela, whom they call Mrs. Magennis? Well, her old grandfather--as n.o.ble a heart as ever beat--had never ceased to pine after her fall. She had been the very light of his life, and he loved her on, through her sorrow, if not her shame, till, as death drew nigh him, unable to restrain his craving desire, he asked me to go and fetch her, to give her his last kiss and receive his last blessing. It was a task I had fain have declined, were such an escape open to me, but I could not. In a word, I went and did his bidding. She stayed with him till he breathed his last breath, and then--in virtue of some pledge I hear that she made him--she fled, no one knows whither. All trace of her is lost; and though I have sent messengers on every side, none have yet discovered her."
"Suicide is not the vice of our people," said Repton, gravely.
"I know that well, and the knowledge makes me hopeful. But what sufferings are yet before her, what fearful trials has she to meet!"
"By Jove!" cried Repton, rising and pacing the room, "you have courage, young lady, that would do honor to a man. You brave the greatest perils with a stout-heartedness that the best of us could scarcely summon."
"But, in this case, the peril is not mine, sir."
"I am not so sure of that, Miss Mary," said Repton, doubtingly,--"I "m not so sure of that." And, with crossed arms and bent-down head, he paced the room slowly back and forwards. "Ay," muttered he to himself, "Thursday night--Friday, at all events--will close the record. I can speak to evidence on the morning, and be back here again some time in the night. Of course it is a duty,--it is more than a duty." Then he added, aloud, "There "s the moon breaking out, and a fine breezy sky. I "ll take the road, Miss Mary, and, with your good leave, I "ll drink tea with you on Friday evening. Nay, my dear, the rule is made absolute."
"I agree," said she, "if it secures me a longer visit on your return."
A few moments afterwards saw Repton seated in the corner of his chaise, and hurrying onward at speed. His eyes soon closed in slumber, and as he sank off to rest, his lips murmured gently, "My Lord, in rising to address the Court, under circ.u.mstances of no ordinary difficulty, and in a case where vast interest, considerable influence, and, I may add--may add--" The words died away, and he was asleep.
CHAPTER XVII. LADY DOROTHEA"S LETTER
Though it was late when Repton took his departure, Mary Martin felt no inclination for sleep, but addressed herself at once to examine the letter bag, whose contents seemed more than usually bulky. Amid a ma.s.s of correspondence about the estate, she came at length upon the foreign letters, of which there were several from the servants to their friends or relations at Cro" Martin,--all, as usual, under cover to Miss Martin; and at last she found one in Lady Dorothea"s own hand, for herself,--a very rare occurrence; nay, indeed, it was the first epistle her Ladyship had favored her with since her departure.
It was not, then, without curiosity as to the cause that Mary broke the large seal and read as follows:--
"Carlsruhe, Sat.u.r.day Evening, Cour de Bade.
"My dear Niece,--It was only yesterday, when looking over your uncle"s papers, I chanced upon a letter of yours, dated some five or six weeks back, and which, to my great astonishment, I discovered had never been communicated to me,--though this mark of deficient confidence will doubtless seem less surprising to _you_.
"To bring your letter to your mind, _I_ may observe it is one in which you describe the condition of the people on the estate, and the fatal inroads then making upon them by famine and pestilence. It is not my intention here to advert to what may possibly be a very natural error in your account,--the exaggerated picture you draw of their sufferings; your sympathy with them, and your presence to witness much of what they are enduring, will explain and excuse the highly colored statement of their sorrows. It were to be wished that an equally valid apology could be made for what I am forced to call the importunity of your demands in their favor. Five of your six last letters now before me are filled with appeals for abatements of rent, loans to carry out improvements, stipends for schoolmasters, doctors, scripture-readers, and a tribe of other hangers-on, that really seem to augment in number as the pauperism of the people increases. However ungracious the task of disparaging the accuracy of your view, I have no other alternative but to accept it, and hence I am forced to pen these lines myself in preference to committing the office to another.
"It really seems to me that you regard our position as landed proprietors in the light of a mere stewardship, and that it is our bounden duty to expend upon the tenantry the proceeds of the estate, reserving a scanty percentage, perhaps, for ourselves to live upon. How you came to this opinion, and whence you acquired it, I have no means of knowing. If, however, it has been the suggestion of your own genius, it is right you should know that you hold doctrines in common with the most distinguished communists of modern times, and are quite worthy of a seat of honor beside those who are now convulsing society throughout Europe.
"I am unwilling to utter anything like severity towards errors, many of which take their rise in a mistaken and ill-directed benevolence, because the original fault of committing the management of this property to your hands was the work of another. Let me hope that sincere sorrow for so fatal a mistake may not be the primary cause of his present attack--"
When Mary read so far, she started with a sudden fear; and turning over the pages of the long letter, she sought for some allusion to her uncle.
At length she found the following lines:--"Your cousin would have left this for Ireland, but for the sudden seizure your poor uncle has suffered from, and which came upon him after breakfast, in apparently his ordinary health. The entire of the left side is attacked,--the face particularly,--and his utterance quite inarticulate."
For some minutes she could read no more; the warm tears rolled down her cheeks and dropped heavily on the paper, and she could only mutter to herself, "My poor, dear uncle,--my last, my only friend in the world!"
Drying her eyes, with a great effort she read on:--
"The remedies have been so far successful as to arrest the progress of the malady, and his appet.i.te is good, and his spirits, everything considered, are excellent. Of course, all details of business are strictly excluded from his presence; and your cousin has a.s.sumed whatever authority is necessary to the management of the property. We thought at one time your presence here might have been desirable, but, considering the distance, the difficulty of travelling without suitable companionship, and other circ.u.mstances, it would, on the whole, be a step we should not recommend; and, indeed, your uncle himself has not expressed any wishes on the subject."
She dropped the letter at these words, and, covering her face with her hands, sobbed bitterly and long; at length, and with an effort which taxed her strength to the utmost, she read on:--
"Although, however, you are to remain at Cro" Martin, it will be more than ever imperative you should reduce the establishment there within the very strictest possible limits; and to begin this-reform, I "m fully a.s.sured it is necessary you should depose old Mrs. Broon, who is really incapable of her duties, while her long-acquired habits of expense render her incompatible with any new regulations to enforce economy. A moderate pension--something, however, in accordance with her real wants and requirements, rather than what might be called her expectations--should be settled upon her, and there are several farmers on the estate, any one of whom would gladly take charge of her. The gardens still figure largely in the account, and considering the very little probability of our makings the place a residence again, might be turned to more profitable use. You will confer with Henderson on the subject, and inquire how far it might be advisable to cultivate vegetables for market, or convert them into paddocks for calves, or, in short, anything which, if less remunerative, should still save the enormous outlay we now hear of I scarcely like to allude to the stable, knowing how much you lean to the enjoyment of riding and driving; but really these are times when retrenchment is called for at every hand; and I am persuaded that for purposes of health walking is infinitely better than carriage exercise. I know myself, that since I have taken to the habit of getting out of the carriage at the wells, and walking twice round the parterre, I feel myself braced and better for the day.
"It is not improbable but when the changes I thus suggest, and others similar to them, are enacted, that you will see to what little purpose a large house is maintained for the mere accommodation of a single individual, without suitable means, or indeed any reason whatever, to dispense them. If then, I say, you should come to this conviction,--at which I have already arrived,--a very great saving might be effected by obtaining a tenant for Cro" Martin, while you, if still desirous of remaining in the county, might be most comfortably accommodated at the Hendersons"."
Three times did Mary Martin read over this pa.s.sage before she could bring herself to believe in its meaning; and hot tears of sorrow coursed down her cheeks as she became a.s.sured of its import.
"It is not," went on the epistle--"it is not in your uncle"s present most critical state that I could confer with him on this project, nor strengthen my advice by what most probably would be _his_ also. I therefore make the appeal simply to your own sense of what you may think in accordance with our greatly increased outlay and your own requirements. Should you receive this suggestion in the spirit in which it is offered, I think that both for your uncle"s satisfaction and your own dignity, the proposal ought to come from yourself. You could make it to me in a letter, stating all the reasons in its favor, and of course not omitting to lay suitable stress upon the isolation of your present life, and the comfort and security you would derive from the protection of a family. Mrs. H. is really a very nice person, and her tastes and habits would render her most companionable; and she would, of course, make you an object of especial attention and respect. It is, besides, not impossible that the daughter may soon return--though this is a point I have not leisure to enter upon at present. A hundred a year would he a very handsome allowance for Henderson, and indeed for that sum he ought to keep your pony, if you still continue your taste for equipage. You would thus be more comfortable, and really richer,--that is, have more disposable means--than you have hitherto had. I forbear to insist further upon what--till it has your own approval--may be a vain advocacy on my part. I can only say, in conclusion, that in adopting this plan you would equally consult what is due to your own dignity, as what is required by your uncle"s interests. Your cousin, I am forced to avow it, has been very silly, very inconsiderate, not alone in contracting heavy debts, but in raising large sums to meet them at fabulous rates of interest. The involvements threaten, from what I can gather, to imperil a considerable part of the estate, and we are obliged to send for Scanlan to come out here, and confer with him as to the means of extrication. I feel there is much to be said in palliation of errors which have their origin in high and generous qualities. Plantagenet was thrown at a very early age into the society of a most expensive regiment, and naturally contracted the tastes and habits around him.
Poor fellow, he is suffering severely from the memory of these early indiscretions, and I see that nothing but a speedy settlement of his difficulties will ever restore him to his wonted spirits. You will thus perceive, that if my suggested change of life to you should not conform entirely to your wishes, that you are in reality only accepting your share of the sacrifices called for from each of us.
"There are a great number of other matters on which I wished to touch,--some, indeed, are not exactly within your province, such as the political fortunes of the borough, whose seat Mr. Ma.s.singbred has determined to vacate. Although not admitting the reason for his conduct, I am strongly convinced that the step is a mere acknowledgment of an error on his part, and an effort, however late, at the _amende honorable_. The rest.i.tution, for so I am forced to regard it, comes most inopportunely, since it would be a most ill-chosen moment in which to incur the expense of a contested election; besides that, really your cousin has no desire whatever for Parliamentary honors. Plantagenet, however, would seem to have some especial intentions on the subject which he keeps secret, and has asked of Ma.s.singbred not to send off his farewell address to the const.i.tuency for some days. But I will not continue a theme so little attractive to you.
"Dr. Schubart has just called to see your uncle. He is not altogether so satisfied with his state as I could have hoped; he advises change of scene, and a little more intercourse with the world, and we have some thought of Nice, if we cannot get on to Naples. Dr. S., to whom I spoke on the subject of your Irish miseries, tells me that cholera is now the most manageable of all maladies, if only taken early; that you must enjoin the persons attacked to a more liberal diet, no vegetables, and a sparing use of French wines, excepting, he says, the generous "Vins du Midi." There is also a mixture to be taken--of which he promised me the prescription--and a pill every night of arnica or aconite--I "m not quite certain which--but it is a perfect specific. He also adds, what must be felt as most rea.s.suring, that the disease never attacks but the very poorest of the population. As to typhus, he smiled when I spoke of it. It is, he says, a mere "Gastrite," a malady which modern science actually despises. In fact, my dear niece, these would seem, like all other Irish misfortunes, the mere offshoots of her own dark ignorance and barbarism. If it were not for the great expense--and of course that consideration decides the question--I should have requested you to send over your doctor here to confer with Dr. Schubart. Indeed, I think it might be a very reasonable demand to make of the Government, but unhappily my present "relations" with my relative Lord Reckington preclude any advances of mine in that quarter.
"I was forgetting to add that, with respect to cholera, and indeed fever generally, that Dr. S. lays great stress upon what he calls the moral treatment of the people, amusing their minds by easily learned games and simple pleasures. I fear me, however, that the coa.r.s.er natures of our population may not derive adequate amus.e.m.e.nt from the resources which would have such eminent success with the enlightened peasant of the Rhine land. Dr. S., I may remark, is a very distinguished writer on politics, and daily amazes us with the astounding speculations he is forming as to the future condition of Europe. His conviction is that our great peril is Turkey, and that Mohammedanism will be the religion of Europe before the end of the present century. Those new baths established at Brighton by a certain Hamet are a mere political agency, a secret propaganda, which his acuteness has alone penetrated. Miss Henderson has ventured to oppose these views with something not very far from impertinent ridicule, and for some time back, Dr. S. only discusses them with myself alone.
"I had left the remainder of the sheet for any intelligence that might occur before post hour, but I am suddenly called away, and shall close it at once. When I was sitting with your uncle awhile ago, I _half_ broached the project I was suggesting to you, and he seemed highly to approve of so much as I ventured to tell him. Nothing then is wanting but your own concurrence to make it as practicable as it is deemed advisable by your affectionate aunt,
"Dorothea Martin."
The eccentricities of her aunt"s character had always served as extenuating circ.u.mstances with Mary Martin. She knew the violence of her prejudices, the enormous amount of her self-esteem, and the facility with which she was ever able to persuade herself that whatever she wished to do a.s.sumed at once all the importance and gravity of a duty!
This thorough appreciation of her peculiarities enabled Mary to bear up patiently under many sore trials and some actual wrongs. Where the occasion was a light one, she could afford to smile at such trials, and, even in serious cases, they palliated the injustice; but here was an instance wherein all her forgiveness was in vain. To take the moment of her poor uncle"s illness--that terrible seizure, which left him without self-guidance, if even a will--to dictate these hard and humiliating terms, was a downright cruelty. Nor did it diminish the suffering which that letter cost her that its harsh conditions seemed dictated by a spirit of contempt for Ireland and its people. As Mary re-read the letter, she felt that every line breathed this tone of depreciation. It was to her Ladyship a matter of less than indifference what became of the demesne, who inhabited the house,--the home of "the Martins" for centuries! She was as little concerned for the prestige of "the old family," as she was interested for the sorrows of the people. If Mary endeavored to treat these things dispa.s.sionately to her own heart, by dwelling upon all the points which affected others, still, her own individual wrong would work to the surface, and the bitter and insulting suggestion made to her rose up before her in all its enormity.
She did her very best to turn her thoughts into some other channel,--to fix them upon her poor uncle, on his sick-bed, and sorrowing as he was sure to be; to think of her cousin Harry, struggling against the embarra.s.sments of his own imprudence; of the old housekeeper, Catty Broon, to whom she could not summon courage to speak the cruel tidings of her changed lot,--but all, all in vain; back she would come to the humiliation that foreshadowed her own fortune, and threatened to depose her from her station forever.
An indignant appeal to her uncle--her own father"s brother--was her first resolve. "Let me learn," said she to herself, "from his own lips, that such is the destiny he a.s.signs me; that in return for my tried affection, my devotion, he has no other recompense than to lower me in self-esteem and condition together. Time enough, when a.s.sured of this, to decide upon what I shall do. But to whom shall I address this demand?" thought she again. "That dear, kind uncle is now struck down by illness. It were worse than cruelty to add to his own sorrows any thought of _mine_. If he have concurred in Lady Dorothea"s suggestion, who knows in what light it may have been presented to him, by what arguments strengthened, with what perils contrasted? Is it impossible, too, that the sacrifice may be imperative? The sale of part of the property, the pressure of heavy claims,--all show that it may be necessary to dispose of Cro" Martin. Oh," exclaimed she, in agony, "it is but a year ago, that when Mr. Repton hinted vaguely at such a casualty, how stoutly and indignantly did I reject it!
""Your uncle may choose to live abroad," said he; "to sell the estate, perhaps." And I heard him with almost scornful defiance; and now the hour is come! and even yet I cannot bring myself to believe it. When Repton drew the picture of the tenantry, forsaken and neglected, the poor unnoticed, and the sick uncared for, he still forgot to a.s.sign me my place in the sad "tableau," and show that in dest.i.tution my lot was equal to their own; the very poorest and meanest had yet some spot, poor and mean though it were, they called a home, that Mary Martin was the only one an outcast!"
These gloomy thoughts were darkened as she bethought her that of her little fortune--on which, by Scanlan"s aid, she had raised a loan--a mere fragment remained,--a few hundred pounds at most. The outlay on hospitals and medical a.s.sistance for the sick had more than quadrupled what she had estimated. The expense once begun, she had persevered with almost reckless determination. She had despatched to Dublin, one by one, the few articles of jewelry and value she possessed for sale; she had limited her own expenditure to the very narrowest bounds, nor was it till driven by the utmost urgency that she wrote the appeal to her uncle of which the reader already knows.
"How I once envied Kate Henderson," cried she, aloud, "the brilliant accomplishments she possessed, the graceful charm that her cultivation threw over society, and the fascination she wielded, by acquirements of which I knew nothing; but how much more now do I envy her, that in those same gifts her independence was secured,--that, high above the chances of the world, she could build upon her own efforts, and never descend to a condition of dependence!"
Her diminished power amongst the people had been fully compensated by the sincere love and affection she had won from them by acts of charity and devotion. Even these, however, owed much of their efficacy to the prestige of her station. No peasant in Europe puts so high a value on the intercourse with a rank above his own as does the Irish. The most pleasant flattery to his nature is the notice of "the gentleman," and it was more than half the boon Mary bestowed upon the poor, that she who sat down beside the bed, who heated the little drink, who raised the head to swallow it, was the daughter of the Great House! Would not her altered fortune destroy this charm? was now her bitter reflection. Up to this hour, greatly reduced as were the means she dispensed, and the influence she wielded, she still lived in the proud home of her family, and all regarded her as the representative of her honored name. But now--No, she could not endure the thought! "If I must descend to further privations," said she to herself, "let me seek out some new scene,--some spot where I am unknown, have never been heard of; there, at least, I shall be spared the contrast of the past with the present, nor see in every incident the cruel mockery of my former life.
"And yet," thought she, "how narrow-minded and selfish is all this, how mean-spirited, to limit the question to my own feelings! Is there no duty involved in this sacrifice? Shall I not still--reduced though I be in fortune--shall I not still be a source of comfort to many here? Will not the very fact of my presence a.s.sure them that they are not deserted?
They have seen me under some trials, and the lesson has not been fruitless. Let them then behold me, under heavier ones, not dismayed nor cast down. What I lose in the prestige of station I shall more than gain in sympathy; and so I remain!" No sooner was the resolve formed than all her wonted courage came back. Rallying with the stimulus of action before her, she began to plan out a new life, in which her relation to the people should be closer and nearer than ever. There was a small ornamental cottage on the demesne, known as the Chalet, built by Lady Dorothea after one she had seen in the Oberland; this Mary now determined on for her home, and there, with Catty Broon alone, she resolved to live.
"My aunt," thought she, "can scarcely be so wedded to the Henderson scheme but that this will equally satisfy her wishes; and while it secures a home and a resting-place for-poor Catty, it rescues _me_ from what I should feel as a humiliation."
The day was already beginning to dawn as Mary sat down to answer Lady Dorothea"s letter. Most of her reply referred to her uncle, to whose affection she clung all the more as her fortunes darkened. She saw all the embarra.s.sment of proffering her services to nurse and tend him, living, as he was, amidst his own; but still, she said that of the journey or its difficulties she should never waste a thought, if her presence at his sick-bed could afford him the slightest satisfaction.
"He knows me as a nurse already," said she. "But tell him that I have grown, if not wiser, calmer and quieter than he knew me formerly; that I should not disturb him by foolish stories, but sit patiently save when he would have me to talk. Tell him, too, that if changed in many things, in my love to_ him_ I am unaltered." She tried to add more, but could not. The thought that these lines were to be read to her uncle by Lady Dorothea chilled her, and the very tones of that supercilious voice seemed to ring in her ears, and she imagined some haughty or insolent comment to follow them as they were uttered.
With regard to her own future, she, in a few words, remarked upon the unnecessary expense of maintaining a large house for the accommodation of a single person, and said that, if her Ladyship concurred in the plan, she would prefer taking up her home at the Chalet with old Catty for companion and housekeeper.