"As well as usual. Wilmet is a good deal worn and downcast, but all are calm and cheerful. The loss cannot be like what that of their father was."
"Will they go on as they are doing now?"
"I trust so. I am going down to the family consultation. The London cousin is there."
"Then perhaps I had better not come in," said Ferdinand, looking rather blank. "Shall I go down to Mr. Macnamara first?"
"Had you rather go alone, or shall I send Lance to show you the way?"
"Dear little Lance, pray let me have him!"
"It is a longish walk. Is your lameness quite gone?"
"Oh yes, I can walk a couple of miles very well, and when I give out it is not my leg, but my back. They say it is the old jar to the spine, and that it will wear off when I have done growing, if I get plenty of air and riding. This will not be too much for me, but I must be in time for the 3.30 train, I promised my father."
"Is he here alone?"
"Yes, my uncle is in Brazil. My father is here for a month, and is very kind; he seems very fairly satisfied with me; and he wants me to get prepared for the commission in the Life Guards."
"The Life Guards!"
"You see he is bent on my being an English gentleman, but he has some dislike to the University, fancies it too old-world or something; and, honestly, I cannot wish it myself. I can"t take much to books, and Dr. White says I have begun too late, and shall never make much of them."
"If you went into the Guards, my brother might be a friend to you."
"My back is not fit for the infantry," said Ferdinand, "but I can ride anything; I always could. I care for nothing so much as horses."
"Then why not some other cavalry regiment?"
"Well, my father knows a man with a son in the Life Guards, who has persuaded him that it is the thing, and I don"t greatly care."
"Is he prepared for the expensiveness?"
"I fancy it is the recommendation," said Ferdinand, smiling with a little shame; "but if you really see reason for some other choice perhaps you would represent it to him. I think he would attend to you in person."
"Have you positively no choice, Fernan?"
"I never like the bother of consideration," said Ferdinand, "and in London I might have more chance of seeing you and other friends sometimes. I do know that it is not all my father supposes, but he thinks it is all my ignorance, and I have not much right to be particular."
"Only take care that horses do not become your temptation," said Mr.
Audley.
"I know," gravely replied Ferdinand. "The fact is," he added, as they turned down the street, "that I do not want to go counter to my father if I can help it. I have not been able to avoid vexing him, and this is of no great consequence. I can exchange, if it should not suit me."
"I believe you are right," said the Curate; "but I will inquire and write to you before the application is made. Wait, and I will send out Lance. But ought you not to call at the Rectory?"
"I will do so as I return," said Ferdinand; and as Mr. Audley entered the house, he thought that the making the Cacique into an English gentleman seemed to have been attained as far as accent, mind, and manner went, and the air and gesture had always been natural in him.
His tone rather than his words were conclusive to the Curate that his heart had never swerved from the purpose with which he had stood at the Font; but the languor and indolence of the voice indicated that the tropical indifference was far from conquered, and it was an anxious question whether the life destined for him might not be exceptionally perilous to his peculiar temperament of nonchalance and excitability.
Consideration was not possible just then, for when Mr. Audley opened the door, he found that he had been impatiently waited for, and barely time was allowed to him to send Lance to Ferdinand Travis, before he was summoned to immediate conference with Thomas Underwood, who, on coming in, had a.s.sumed the management of affairs, and on calling for the will, was rather displeased with Felix"s protest against doing anything without Mr. Audley, whom he knew to have been named guardian by his father. The cousin seemed unable to credit the statement; and Wilmet had just found the long envelope with the black seal, exactly as it had lain in the desk, which had never been disturbed since the business on their father"s death had been finished.
There was the old will made long before, leaving whatever there was to leave unconditionally to the wife, with the sole guardianship of the children; and there was the codicil dated the 16th of October 1854, appointing Charles Somerville Audley, clerk, to the guardianship in case of the death of the mother, while they should all, or any of them, be under twenty-one, and directing that in that contingency the property should be placed in his hands as trustee, the interest to be employed for their maintenance, and the capital to be divided equally among them, each receiving his or her share on coming of age. All this was in Edward Underwood"s own handwriting, and his signature was attested by the Rector and the doctor.
Thomas Underwood was more "put out," than the management of such an insignificant sum seemed to warrant. He was no doubt disappointed of his cousin"s confidence, as well as of some liberal (if domineering) intentions; and he was only half appeased when Edgar pointed to the date, and showed that the arrangement had been made before the renewal of intercourse. "It was hardly fair to thrust a charge upon a stranger when there was a relation to act. Poor Edward, he ought to have trusted," he said. There was genuine kindness of heart in the desire to confer benefits, though perhaps in rather an overbearing spirit, as well as disappointment and hurt feeling that his cousin had acquiesced in his neglect without an appeal. However, after asking whether Mr. Audley meant to act, and hearing of his decided intention of doing so, he proceeded to state his own plans for them.
The present state of things could not continue, and he proposed that Wilmet and Geraldine should go as half boarders to some school, to be prepared for governesses. Felix--could he write shorthand? "Oh yes; but--" Then he knew of a capital opening for him, a few years, and he would be on the way to prosperity: the little ones might be boarded with their old nurse till fit for some clergy orphan schools; if the means would not provide for all, there need be no difficulty made on that score.
Mr. Audley saw Felix"s start of dismay and glance at him, but knowing as he did that the lad was always more himself when not interfered with, and allowed to act for himself, he only said, "It is very kind in you, sir, but I think Felix should be consulted."
"It is impossible!" began Felix hastily.
"Impossible! It is quite impossible, I would have you to understand, that a lot of children like you should keep house together, and on such an income as that. Quite preposterous."
"As for that," said Felix, still unsubmissively, "it is only what we have been doing, except for the name of the thing, for the last three years on the same means."
"You don"t mean to tell me that you have kept things going on such means without a debt?"
"Of course we have! We never let a bill run," said Felix, slightly indignant.
"Now mind, I"m not insulting you, Felix, but I know what the women are and what they tell us. Are you sure of that? No debts--honour bright?"
"None at all!" said Felix, with an endeavour at calmness, but glowing hotly. "I help my sister make up her books every Sat.u.r.day night. We always pay ready money."
"Humph," said Mr. Underwood, still only half convinced. "Living must be cheap at Bexley."
"You had better explain a little, Felix," said Mr. Audley.
Felix did bring himself to say, "I am sub-editor now, and get 100 pounds a year, besides being paid for any article I write. Wilmet has 25 pounds a year and her dinner, and Angela"s at school, so there are only five of us constantly dining at home, and with Mr. Audley"s two guineas a week we can do very well."
"What, you lodge here?"
"Did not you know that?" said Felix surprised.
Mr. Underwood gave a whistle, and the Curate felt his cheeks growing redder and redder, as he perceived that seven-and-twenty was not considered as so very much older than eighteen. Edgar understood and smiled, but Felix only thought he was suspected of making a good thing of his lodger, and was beginning something awkward about, "It is all kindness," when Mr. Audley broke in--
"Of course nothing is settled yet, but--but I believe I shall change my quarters. A smaller house would be better for them; but I think the children should keep together. Indeed, my dear friend said he chiefly appointed me that Felix might be kept at their head."
Thereupon Mr. Underwood began to expostulate against the sacrifice of position and talent that Felix was making for the sake of bearing the burthen of a family that would have pressed heavily on a man double his age. It was what Felix already knew, much better than when at sixteen he had made his first venture. He had experienced the effects of change of station, as well as of exertion, drudgery, and of the home hardship that no one except Mr. Audley had tried to sweeten. He saw how Edgar had acquired the nameless air and style that he was losing, how even Clement viewed him as left behind; and, on the other hand, he knew that with his own trained and tested ability and application, and his kinsman"s patronage, there was every reasonable chance of his regaining a gentleman"s position, away from that half- jealous, half-conceited foreman, who made every day a trial to him, and looked at him with an evil eye as a supplanter in the post of confidence. But therewith he thought of his father"s words, that to him he left this heavy burthen, and he thought what it would be to have no central home, no place of holiday-meeting, no rallying-point for the boys and girls, and to cast off the little ones to hired service, this alternative never seriously occurred to him, for were they not all bound to him by the cords of love, and most closely the weakest and most helpless? Yet his first reply did not convey the weight of his determination. It was only "Geraldine is too delicate."
"Well, well, good advice and treatment might make a change. Or, if she be fit for nothing else, would not that Sisterhood at Dearport take her on reasonable terms? Not that I can away with such nonsense, but your father had his fancies."
"My father wished us not to break up the home."
"That was all very well when your poor mother was alive. You have been a good son to her, but it is impossible that you and your sister, mere children as you are, should set up housekeeping by yourselves. Mr. Audley must see it cannot be suffered; it is the bounden duty of your friends to interfere."
Mr. Audley did not speak. He knew that Felix could reckon on his support; and, moreover, that the youth would show himself to greater advantage when not interfered with. So after pausing to see whether his guardian would speak, Felix said, "Of course we are in Mr.
Audley"s power, but he knows that we have made some trial, and except in name we have really stood alone for these three years. Wilmet can quite manage the house, and it would be misery for ever to us all to have no home. In short--" and Felix"s face burnt, his voice choked, and his eyes brimmed over with hot indignant tears, as he concluded, "it shall never be done with my good will."
"And under the circ.u.mstances," said Mr. Audley, "I think Felix is right."