"It sounds very grand, and worthy of a cruel step-dame," said Albinia; "but, my dear, though I do think Genevieve in herself an admirable creature, worthy of any one"s love, what am I to think of the way Gilbert has taken to show his admiration?"
"And is it not very hard," cried Sophy, "that even you, who own all her excellences, should turn against him, and give in to all this miserable conventionality, that wants riches and station, and trumpery worldly things, and crushes down true love in two young hearts?"
"Sophy dear, I am afraid the love is not proved to be true in the one heart, and I am sure there is none in the other!"
"Mamma! "Tis her self-command--"
"Nonsense! His attentions are nothing but distress to her! Sensible grown-up young women are not apt to be flattered by importunity from silly boys. Has he told you otherwise?"
"He thinks--he hopes, at least--and I am sure--it is all stifled by her sense of duty, and fear of offending you, or appearing mercenary."
"All delusion!" said Albinia; "there"s not a spark of consciousness about her! I see you don"t like to believe it, but it is my great comfort. Think how she would suffer if she did love him! Nay, think, before you are angry with me for not promoting it, how it would bring them into trouble and disgrace with all the world, even if your father consented. Have you once thought how it would appear to him?"
"You can persuade papa to anything!"
"Sophy! you ought to know your father better than to say that!" cried Albinia, as if it had been disrespect to him.
"Then you think he would never allow it! You really think that such a creature as Genevieve, as perfect a lady as ever existed, must always be a victim to these hateful rules about station."
"No," said Albinia, "certainly not; but if she were in the very same rank, if all else were suitable, Gilbert"s age would make the pursuit ridiculous."
"Only three years younger," sighed Sophy. "But if they were the same age? Do you mean that no one ever ought to marry, if they love ever so much, where the station is different?"
"No, but that they must not do so lightly, but try the love first to see whether it be worth the sacrifice. If an attachment last through many years of adverse circ.u.mstances, I think the happiness of the people has been shown to depend on each other, but I don"t think it safe to disregard disparities till there has been some test that the love is the right stuff, or else they may produce ill-temper, regrets, and unhappiness, all the rest of their lives."
"If Gilbert went on for years, mamma?"
"I did not say that, Sophy."
"Suppose," continued the eager girl, "he went out to Calcutta, and worked these five years, and was made a partner. Then he would be two-and-twenty, n.o.body could call him too young, and he would come home, and ask papa"s consent, and you--"
"I _should_ call that constancy," said Albinia.
"And he would take her out to Calcutta, and have no Drurys and Osborns to bother her! Oh! It would be beautiful! I would watch over her while he was gone! I"ll go and tell him!"
"Stop, Sophy, not from me--that would never do. I don"t think papa would think twenty-two such a great age--"
"But he would have loved her five years!" said Sophy. "And you said yourself that would be constancy!"
"True, but, Sophy, I have known a youth who sailed broken-hearted, and met a lady "just in the style" of the former one, on board the steamer--"
Sophy made a gesture of impatient disdain, and repeated, "Do you allow me to tell Gilbert that this is the way?"
"Not from me. I hold out no hope. I don"t believe Genevieve cares for him, and I don"t know whether his father would consent--" but seeing Sophy"s look of disappointment, "I see no harm in your suggesting it, for it is his only chance with either of them, and would be the proof that his affection was good for something."
"And you think her worth it?"
"I think her worth anything in the world--the more for her behaviour in this matter. I only doubt if Gilbert have any conception how much she is worth."
Away went Sophy in a glow that made her almost handsome, while Albinia, as usual, wondered at her own imprudence.
At luncheon Sophy avoided her eye, and looked crestfallen, and when afterwards she gave a mute inquiring address, shook her head impatiently. It was plain that she had failed, and was too much pained and shamed by his poorness of spirit to be able as yet to speak of it.
Next came Gilbert, who pursued Albinia to the morning-room to entreat her interference in his behalf, appealing piteously to her kindness; but she was obdurate. If any remonstrance were offered to his father, it must be by himself.
Gilbert fell into a state of misery, threw himself about upon the chairs, and muttered in the fretfulness of childish despair something about its being very hard, when he was owner of half the town, to be sent into exile--it was like jealousy of his growing up and being master.
"Take care, Gilbert!" said Albinia, with a flash of her eye that he felt to his backbone.
"I don"t mean it," cried Gilbert, springing towards her in supplication.
"I"ve heard it said, that"s all, and was as angry as you, but when a fellow is beside himself with misery at being driven away from all he loves--not a friend to help him--how can he keep from thinking all sorts of things?"
"I wonder what people dare to say it!" cried Albinia wrathfully; but he did not heed, he was picturing his own future misfortunes--toil--climate--fevers--choleras--Thugs--coups de soleil--genuine dread and repugnance working him up to positive agony.
"Gilbert," said Albinia, "this is trumpery self-torture! You know this is a mere farrago that you have conjured up. Your father would neither thrust you into danger, nor compel you to do anything to which you had a reasonable aversion. Go and be a man about it in one way or the other!
Either accept or refuse, but don"t make these childish lamentations.
They are cowardly! I should be ashamed of little Maurice if he behaved so!"
"And you will not speak a word for me!"
"No! Speak for yourself!" and she left the room.
Days pa.s.sed on, till she began to think that, after all, Gilbert preferred Calcutta, cholera, Thugs, and all, to facing his father; but at last, he must have taken heart from his extremity, for Mr. Kendal said, with less vexation than she had antic.i.p.ated, "So our plans are overthrown. Gilbert tells me he has an invincible dislike to Calcutta.
Had you any such idea?"
"Not till your cousin"s letter arrived. What did you say to him?"
"He was so much afraid of vexing me that I was obliged to encourage him to speak freely, and I found that he had always had a strong distaste to and dread of India. I told him I wished he had made me aware of it sooner, and desired to know what profession he really preferred. He spoke of Oxford and the Bar, and so I suppose it must be. I do not wonder that he wishes to follow his Traversham friends, and as they are a good set, I hope there may not be much temptation. I see you are not satisfied, Albinia, yet your wishes were one of my motives."
"Thank you--once I should," said Albinia; "but, Edmund, I see how wrong it was to have concealed anything from you;" and thereupon she informed him of Gilbert"s pa.s.sion for Genevieve Durant, which astonished him greatly, though he took it far less seriously than she had expected, and was not displeased at having been kept in ignorance and spared the trouble of taking notice of it, and thus giving it importance.
"It will pa.s.s off," he said. "She has too much sense and principle to encourage him, and if you can get her out of Bayford for a few years he will be glad to have it forgotten."
"Poor Genevieve! She must break up her grandmother"s home after all!"
"It will be a great advantage to her. You used to say that it would be most desirable for her to see more of the world. Away from this place she might marry well."
"Any one"s son but yours," said Albinia, smiling.
"The connexion would be worse here than anywhere else; but I was not thinking of any one in our rank of life. There are many superior men in trade with whom she might be very happy."
"Poor child!" sighed Albinia. "I cannot feel that it is fair that she should be banished for Gilbert"s faults; and I am sorry for the school; you cannot think how much the tone was improving."
"If it could be done without hurting her feelings, I should gladly give her a year at some superior finishing school, which might either qualify her for a governess, or enable her to make this one more profitable."
"Oh! thank you!" cried Albinia; "yet I doubt. However, her services would be quite equivalent in any school to the lessons she wants. I"ll write to Mrs. Elwood--" and she was absorbed in the register-office in her brain, when Mr. Kendal continued--
"This is quite unexpected. I could not have supposed the boy so foolish!
However, if you please, I will speak to him, tell him that I was unaware of his folly, and insist on his giving it up."