Castle Richmond by Anthony Trollope (good story books to read .txt) 📖

rather than a hope, that the marriage would not take place quite immediately.

Under these circumstances, Herbert hardly spoke further to his father upon the matter. He certainly did feel sore that he should be so treated—that he should be made to understand that there was a difficulty, but that the difficulty could not be explained to him. No absolute opposition was however made, and he would not therefore complain. As to money, he would say nothing till something should be said to him.

With his mother, however, the matter was different. She had said that she would welcome Clara; and she did so. Immediately after speaking to Sir Thomas she drove over to Desmond Court, and said soft, sweet things to Clara in her most winning way;—said soft things also to the countess, who received them very graciously; took Clara home to Castle Richmond for that night, somewhat to the surprise and much to the gratification of Herbert, who found her sitting slily with the other girls when he came in before dinner; and arranged for her to make a longer visit after the interval of a week or two. Herbert, therefore, was on thoroughly good terms with his mother, and did enjoy some of the delights which he had promised himself.

With his sisters, also, and especially with Emmeline, he was once more in a good humour. To her he made ample apology for his former crossness, and received ample absolution. "I was so harassed," he said, "by my father's manner that I hardly knew what I was doing. And even now, when I think of his evident dislike to the marriage, it nearly drives me wild." The truth of all which Emmeline sadly acknowledged. How could any of them talk of their father except in a strain of sadness?

All these things did not happen in the drawing-room at Castle Richmond without also being discussed in the kitchen. It was soon known over the house that Master Herbert was to marry Lady Clara, and, indeed, there was no great pretence of keeping it secret. The girls told the duchess, as they called Mrs. Jones—of course in confidence—but Mrs. Jones knew what such confidence meant, especially as the matter was more than once distinctly alluded to by her ladyship; and thus the story was told, in confidence, to everybody in the establishment, and then repeated by them, in confidence also, to nearly everybody out of it.

Ill news, they say, flies fast; and this news, which, going in that direction, became ill, soon flew to Hap House.

"So young Fitzgerald and the divine Clara are to hit it off, are they?" said Captain Donnellan, who had driven over from Buttevant barracks to breakfast at Hap House on a hunting-morning.

There were other men present, more intimate friends of Owen than this captain, who had known of Owen's misfortune in that quarter; and a sign was made to Donnellan to bid him drop the subject; but it was too late.

"Who? my cousin Herbert," said Owen, sharply. "Have you heard of this, Barry?"

"Well," said Barry, "those sort of things are always being said, you know. I did hear something of it somewhere. But I can't say I thought much about it." And then the subject was dropped during that morning's breakfast. They all went to the hunt, and in the course of the day Owen contrived to learn that the report was well founded.

That evening, as the countess and her daughter were sitting together over the fire, the gray-headed old butler brought in a letter upon an old silver salver, saying, "For Lady Clara, if you please, my lady."

The countess not unnaturally thought that the despatch had come from Castle Richmond, and smiled graciously as Clara put out her hand for the missive. Lady Desmond again let her eyes drop upon the book which she was reading, as though to show that she was by far too confiding a mamma to interfere in any correspondence between her daughter and her daughter's lover. At the moment Lady Clara had been doing nothing. Her work was, indeed, on her lap, and her workbox was at her elbow; but her thoughts had been far away; far away as regards idea, though not so as to absolute locality; for in her mind she was walking beneath those elm-trees, and a man was near her, with a horse following at his heels.

"The messenger is to wait for an answer, my lady," said the old butler, with a second nod, which on this occasion was addressed to Clara; and then the man withdrew.

Lady Clara blushed ruby red up to the roots of her hair when her eyes fell on the address of the letter, for she knew it to be in the handwriting of Owen Fitzgerald. Perhaps the countess from the corner of her eye may have observed some portion of her daughter's blushes; but if so, she said nothing, attributing them to Clara's natural bashfulness in her present position. "She will get over it soon," the countess may probably have said to herself.

Clara was indecisive, disturbed in her mind, and wretched. Owen had sent her other letters; but they had been brought to her surreptitiously, had been tendered to her in secret, and had always been returned by her unopened. She had not told her mother of these; at least, not purposely or at the moment: but she had been at no trouble to conceal the facts; and when the countess had once asked, she freely told her what had happened with an absence of any confusion which had quite put Lady Desmond at her ease. But this letter was brought to her in the most open manner, and an answer to it openly demanded.

She turned it round slowly in her hand, and then looking up, said, "Mamma, this is from Owen Fitzgerald; what had I better do with it?"

"From Owen Fitzgerald! Are you sure?"

"Yes, mamma." And then the countess had also to consider what steps under such circumstances had better be taken. In the mean time Clara held out her hand, tendering the letter to her mother.

"You had better open it, my dear, and read it. No doubt it must be answered." Lady Desmond felt that now there could be no danger from Owen Fitzgerald. Indeed she thought that there was not a remembrance of him left in her daughter's bosom; that the old love, such baby-love as there had been, had vanished, quite swept out of that little heart by this new love of a brighter sort. But then Lady Desmond knew nothing of her daughter.

So instructed, Clara broke the seal, and read the letter, which ran thus:—
 

Hap House, February, 184—.

My promised Love,

For let what will happen, such you are; I have this morning heard tidings which, if true, will go far to drive me to despair. But I will not believe them from any lips save your own. I have heard that you are engaged to marry Herbert Fitzgerald. At once, however, I declare that I do not believe the statement. I have known you too well to think that you can be false.

But, at any rate, I beg the favour of an interview with you. After what has passed I think that under any circumstances I have a right to demand it. I have pledged myself to you; and as that pledge has been accepted, I am entitled to some consideration.

I write this letter to you openly, being quite willing that you should show it to your mother if you think fit. My messenger will wait, and I do implore you to send me an answer. And remember, Lady Clara, that, having accepted my love, you cannot whistle me down the wind as though I were of no account. After what has passed between us, you cannot surely refuse to see me once more.

Ever your own—if you will have it so,

Owen Fitzgerald.
 

She read the letter very slowly, ever and anon looking up at her mother's face, and seeing that her mother was—not reading her book, but pretending to read it. When she had finished it, she held it for a moment, and then said, "Mamma, will you not look at it?"

"Certainly, my dear, if you wish me to do so." And she took the letter from her daughter's hand, and read it.

"Just what one would expect from him, my dear; eager, impetuous, and thoughtless. One should not blame him much, for he does not mean to do harm. But if he had any sense, he would know that he was taking trouble for nothing."

"And what shall I do, mamma?"

"Well, I really think that I should answer him." It was delightful to see the perfect confidence which the mother had in her daughter. "And I think I should see him, if he will insist upon it. It is foolish in him to persist in remembering two words which you spoke to him as a child; but perhaps it will be well that you should tell him yourself that you were a child when you spoke those two words."

And then Clara sent off the following reply, written under her mother's dictation; though the countess strove very hard to convince her daughter that she was wording it out of her own head:—
 

Lady Clara Desmond presents her compliments to Mr. Owen Fitzgerald, and will see Mr. Owen Fitzgerald at Desmond Court at two o'clock to-morrow, if Mr. Owen Fitzgerald persists in demanding such an interview. Lady Clara Desmond, however, wishes to express her opinion that it would be better avoided.

Desmond Court,
Thursday evening.
 

The countess thought that this note was very cold and formal, and would be altogether conclusive; but, nevertheless, at about eleven o'clock that night there came another messenger from Hap House with another letter, saying that Owen would be at Desmond Court at two o'clock on the following day.

"He is very foolish; that is all I can say," said the countess.

All that night and all the next morning poor Clara was very wretched. That she had been right to give up a suitor who lived such a life as Owen Fitzgerald lived she could not doubt. But, nevertheless, was she true in giving him up? Had she made any stipulation as to his life when she accepted his love? If he called her false, as doubtless he would call her, how would she defend herself? Had she any defence to offer? It was not only that she had rejected him, a poor lover; but she had accepted a rich lover! What could she say to him when he upbraided her for such sordid conduct?

And then as to her whistling him down the wind. Did she wish to do that? In what state did her heart stand towards him? Might it not be that, let her be ever so much on her guard, she would show him some tenderness,—tenderness which would be treason to her present affianced suitor? Oh, why had her mother desired her to go through such an interview as this!

When two o'clock came Clara was in the drawing-room. She had said nothing to her mother as to the manner in which this meeting should take place. But then at first she had had an idea that Lady Desmond would be present. But as the time came near Clara was still alone. When her watch told her that it was already two, she was still by herself; and when the old servant, opening the door, announced that Mr. Fitzgerald was there, she was still unsupported by the presence of any companion. It was very surprising that on such an occasion her mother should have kept herself away.

She had not seen Owen Fitzgerald since that day when they had walked together under the elm-trees, and it can hardly be said that she saw him now. She had a feeling that she had injured him—had deceived, and in a manner betrayed him; and that feeling became so powerful with her that she hardly dared to look him in the face.

He, when he entered the room, walked straight up to her, and offered her his hand. He, too, looked round the room to see whether Lady Desmond was there, and not finding her, was surprised. He had hardly hoped that such an opportunity would be allowed to him for declaring the strength of his passion.

She got up, and taking his hand, muttered something; it certainly did not matter what, for it was inaudible; but such as the words were, they were the first spoken between them.

"Lady Clara," he began; and then stopped himself; and, considering, recommenced—"Clara, a report has reached my ears which I will believe from no lips but your own."

She now sat down on a sofa, and pointed to a chair for him, but he remained standing, and did so during the whole interview; or rather, walking; for when he became energetic and impetuous, he moved