Elster's Folly, Mrs. Henry Wood [ebook reader with built in dictionary .txt] 📗

Of Utter Amazement And In His Travelling Dress,

Having Only Removed His Overcoat.

 

"You'll Be My Groomsman,  Carr," Said Hartledon. "We Have No Adherents;

This Is A Strictly Private Affair."

 

"Did You Send For Mr. Carr?" Whispered The Countess-Dowager,  Looking

White Through Her Rouge.

 

"No; His Coming Has Taken Me By Surprise," Replied Hartledon,  With A

Nervousness He Could Not Wholly Conceal.

 

They Passed Rapidly Through The Passages,  Marshalled By Hedges. Lord

Hartledon Led His Bride,  The Countess-Dowager Walked With The Clergyman,

And Mr. Carr Brought Up The Rear. The Latter Gentleman Was Wondering

Whether He Had Fallen Into A Dream That He Should Wake Up From In The

Morning. The Mode Of Procession Was A Little Out Of The Common Order Of

Such Affairs; But So Was The Marriage.

 

Now It Happened,  Not Very Long Before This,  That Dr. Ashton Was On His

Way Home From A Visit To A Sick Parishioner--A Poor Man,  Who Said He

Believed Life Had Been Prolonged In Him That His Many Years' Minister

Should Be At His Deathbed. Dr. Ashton's Road Lay Beyond Hartledon,  And

In Returning He Crossed The Road,  Which Brought Him Out Near The River,

Between Hartledon And The Rectory. Happening To Cast His Eyes That Way,

He Saw A Light Where He Had Never Seen One Before--In The Little Unused

Chapel. Peering Through The Trees At The Two Low Diamond-Paned Windows,

To Make Sure He Was Not Mistaken,  Dr. Ashton Quickened His Pace: His

Thoughts Glancing At Fire.

 

He Was Well Acquainted With Hartledon; And Making His Way In By The

Nearest Entrance,  He Dashed Along The Passages To The Chapel,  Meeting At

Length One Of The Servants.

 

"John," He Panted,  Quite Out Of Breath With Hurrying,  "There's A Light In

The Chapel. I Fear It Is On Fire."

 

"Not At All,  Sir," Replied The Man. "We Have Been Lighting It Up For My

Lord's Marriage. They Have Just Gone In."

 

"Lighting It Up For What?" Exclaimed Dr. Ashton.

 

"For My Lord's Marriage,  Sir. He's Marrying Lady Maude. It's The Old

Dowager,  Sir,  Who Has Got It Up In This Queer Way," Continued The Man,

Venturing On A Little Confidential Gossip With His Rector.

 

Dr. Ashton Paused To Collect His Wits Ere He Walked Into The Chapel. The

Few Wax-Candles The Servants Had Been Able To Put About Only Served To

Make The Gloom Visible. The Party Were Taking Their Places,  The Young

Clergyman Directing Them Where To Stand. He Opened His Book And Was

Commencing,  When A Hand Was Laid Upon Hartledon's Shoulder.

 

"Lord Hartledon,  What Is The Meaning Of This?"

 

Lord Hartledon Recognised The Voice,  And Broke Into A Cold Perspiration.

He Gave No Answer; But The Countess-Dowager Made Up For His Silence. Her

Temper,  None Of The Mildest,  Had Been Considerably Exasperated By The

Visit Of The Fox-Hunters; It Was Made Worse By The Arrival Of Mr. Carr.

When She Turned And Saw What _This_ Formidable Interruption Was,  She Lost

It Altogether,  As Few,  Calling Themselves Gentlewomen,  Can Lose It. As

She Peered Into The Face Of Dr. Ashton,  Her Own Was Scarlet And Yellow,

And Her Voice Rose To A Shriek.

 

"You Prying Parson,  Where Did You Spring From? Are You Not Ashamed

To Dodge Lord Hartledon In His Own House? You Might Be Taken Up And

Imprisoned For It."

 

"Lord Hartledon," Said Dr. Ashton,  "I--"

 

"How Dare You Persist,  I Ask You?" Shrieked The Old Woman,  Whilst

The Young Clergyman Stood Aghast,  And Mr. Carr Folded His Arms,  And

Resolutely Fixed His Eyes On The Floor. "Because Hartledon Once Had A

Flirtation With Your Daughter,  Does That Give You Leave To Haunt Him As

If You Were His Double?"

 

"Madam," Said Dr. Ashton,  Contriving Still To Subdue His Anger,  "I Must,

I Will Speak To Lord Hartledon. Allow Me To Do So Without Disturbance.

Lord Hartledon,  I Wait For An Answer: Are You About To Marry This Young

Lady?"

 

"Yes,  He Is," Foamed The Dowager; "I Tell You So. Now Then?"

 

"Then,  Madam," Proceeded The Doctor,  "This Marriage Owes Its Rise To You.

You Will Do Well To Consider Whether You Are Doing Them A Kindness Or An

Injury In Permitting It. You Have Deliberately Set Yourself To Frustrate

The Hopes Of Lord Hartledon And My Daughter: Will A Marriage,  Thus

Treacherously Entered Into,  Bring Happiness With It?"

 

"Oh,  You Wicked Man!" Cried The Dowager. "You Would Like To Call A Curse

Upon Them."

 

"No," Shuddered Dr. Ashton; "If A Curse Ever Attends Them,  It Will Not

Be Through Any Wish Of Mine. Lord Hartledon,  I Knew You As A Boy; I Have

Loved You As A Son; And If I Speak Now,  It Is As Your Pastor,  And For

Your Own Sake. This Marriage Looks Very Like A Clandestine One,  As Though

You Were Ashamed Of The Step You Are Taking,  And Dared Not Enter On It In

The Clear Face Of Day. I Would Have You Consider That This Sort Of

Proceeding Does Not Usually Bring A Blessing With It."

 

If Ever Val Felt Convicted Of Utter Cowardice,  He Felt So Then. All The

Wretched Sophistry By Which He Had Been Beguiled Into The Step,  By Which

He Had Beguiled Himself; All The Iniquity Of His Past Conduct To Miss

Ashton,  Rose Up Before His Mind In Its Naked Truth. He Dared Not Reply To

The Doctor For Very Shame. A Sorry Figure He Cut,  Standing There,  Lady

Maude Beside Him.

 

"The Last Time You Entered My House,  Lord Hartledon,  It Was To Speak Of

Your Coming Marriage With Anne--"

 

"And You Would Like Him To Go There Again And Arrange It," Interrupted

The Incensed Dowager,  Whose Head Had Begun To Nod So Vehemently That She

Could Not Stop It. "Oh Yes,  I Dare Say!"

 

"By What Right Have You Thus Trifled With Her?" Continued The Rector,

Ignoring The Nodding Woman And Her Words,  And Confronting Lord Hartledon.

"Is It A Light Matter,  Think You,  To Gain A Maiden's Best Love,  And Then

To Desert Her For A Fresh Face? You Have Been Playing Fast-And-Loose For

Some Little Time: And I Gave You More Than One Opportunity Of Retiring,

If You So Willed It--Of Openly Retiring,  You Understand; Not Of Doing So

In This Secret,  Disreputable Manner. Your Conscience Will Prick You In

After-Life,  Unless I Am Mistaken."

 

Val Opened His Lips,  But The Rector Put Up His Hand.

 

"A Moment Yet. That I Am Not Endeavouring To Recall Anne's Claims On You

In Saying This,  I Am Sure You Are Perfectly Aware,  Knowing Me As You Do.

I Never Deemed You Worthy Of Her--You Know That,  Lord Hartledon; And You

Never Were So. Were You A Free Man At This Moment,  And Went Down On Your

Knees To Implore Me To Give You Anne,  I Would Not Do It. You Have

Forfeited Her; You Have Forfeited The Esteem Of All Good Men. But That

I Am A Christian Minister,  I Should Visit Your Dishonour Upon You As You

Deserve."

 

"Will You Cease?" Raved The Dowager; And Dr. Ashton Wheeled Round Upon

Her.

 

"There Is Less Excuse For Your Past Conduct,  Madam,  Than For His. You

Have Played On Lord Hartledon's Known Irresolution To Mould Him To Your

Will. I See Now The Aim Of The Letter You Favoured Me With At Cannes,

When You Requested,  With So Much Candour,  That He Might Be Left For A

Time Unfettered By Any Correspondence With Miss Ashton. Well,  You Have

Obtained Your Ends. Your Covetous Wish That You And Your Daughter Should

Reign At Hartledon Is On The Point Of Being Gratified. The Honour Of

Marrying Lady Maude Was Intended Both By You And Her For The Late Lord

Hartledon. Failing Him,  You Transferred Your Hopes To The Present One,

Regardless Of Who Suffered,  Or What Hearts Or Honour Might Be Broken In

The Process."

 

"Will Nobody Put This Disreputable Parson Outside?" Raved The Dowager.

 

"I Do Not Seek To Bring Reproach Home To You; Let That,  Ladies,  Lie

Between Yourselves And Conscience. I Only Draw Your Attention To The

Facts; Which Have Been Sufficiently Patent To The World,  Whatever Lord

Hartledon May Think. And Now I Have Said My Say,  And Leave You; But I

Declare That Were I Performing This Burlesque Of A Marriage,  As That

Young Clergyman Is About To Do,  I Should Feel My Prayers For The Divine

Blessing To Attend It Were But A Vain Mockery."

 

He Turned To Leave The Chapel With Quick Steps,  When Lord Hartledon,

Shaking Off Maude,  Darted Forward And Caught His Arm.

 

"You Will Tell Me One Thing At Least: Is Anne _Not_ Going To Marry

Colonel Barnaby?"

 

"Sir!" Thundered The Doctor. "Going To Marry _Whom_?"

 

"I Heard It," He Faltered. "I Believed It To Be The Truth."

 

"You May Have Heard It,  But You Did Not Believe It,  Lord Hartledon. You

Knew Anne Better. Do Not Add This False Excuse To The Rest."

 

Pleasant! Infinitely So For The Bridegroom's Tingling Ears. Dr. Ashton

Walked Out Of The Chapel,  And Val Stood For A Few Moments Where He Was,

Looking Up And Down In The Dim Light. It Might Be That In His Mental

Confusion He Was Deliberating What His Course Should Be; But Thought And

Common Sense Came To Him,  And He Knew He Could Not Desert Lady Maude,

Having Brought Matters So Far To An End.

 

"Proceed," He Said To The Young Clergyman,  Stalking Back To The Altar.

"Get--It--Over Quickly."

 

Mr. Carr Unfolded H

Have Her Eyes _Down_,  And The Children Must Kneel _Imitating Her_,  And

I Should Like An Old _Brass_ On The Wall Above Them With One Of Those

Queer Old Kneeling Families In Ruffs.

 

For 2,  I Said I Could Not Introduce Child Readers To The Cells,  And I

Begged For An Old Chelsea Pensioner Showing His Good Conduct Medal To

A Little Boy.

 

3. I Suggested The Tomb Of A Knight Crusader,  Above Which Should Fall

A Torn Banner With The Words,  "In Coelo Quies."

 

Now If He Had Kicked At Having Three Pictures To Do Utterly Over

Again,  One Could Hardly Have Wondered,  Pressed As He Is. But,  Back

They Came! "I Am Indeed Much Indebted To You," The Worst He Had To

Say! The Lady In No. 1 Now _Is_ A Lady; And As To The Other Two,  They

Will Be Two Of The Best Pages Of The Book. Old Pensioner First-Rate,

And Crusader Under Torn Banner Just Leaving "Coelo Quies," A Tomb

Behind "Of S. Ambrose Of Milan" With A Little Dog--And A

Snowy-Moustached Old General,  With Bending Shoulders And Holding A

Little Girl By The Hand,  Paying _Devoir_ At The Departed Warrior's

Tomb In A Ray Of Rosy Sunlight!!

 

This Is The Sort Of Way We Are Fighting Through The Ewing-Andre Books.

 

    

 

 

 

 

_Ecclesfield._ January 10,  1883.

 

 

 

 

       

 

Fancy Me "Learning A Part" Again! _That_ Has A Sort Of Sound Like Old

Times,  Hasn't It?

 

I Feel Half As If I Were A Fool,  And Half As If It Would Be Very Good

Fun! R.A. Theatricals At Shoeburyness. The Foxstrangways Have Asked

Me. Major O'callaghan Is Stage Manager I Believe. Then There Is A

Major Newall,  Said To Be Very Good. He Says He "Has A Fancy To Play 'A

Happy Pair' With Me!" It Is His _Cheval De Bataille_ I Believe.

 

I Think It Is Best To Try And Do What One Is _Asked_ Over Parts

(Though They Were Very Polite In Offering Me A Choice),  So I Said I

Would Try,  And Am Learning It. I Think I Shall Manage It. They Now

Want Me To Take "A Rough Diamond" As Well,  _Margery_. I Doubt Its

Being Wise To Attempt Both. It Will Be Rather A Strain,  I Think.

 

       

 

 

 

 

_Shoeburyness._ January 25,  1883.

 

 

 

 

       

 

I Am Playing Mrs. Honeyton In "A Happy Pair" With Major Newall. He

Knows His Work Well,  Is A Good Coach,  And Very Considerate And Kind.

 

In My Soul I Wish That Were All,  But They Have Persuaded Me Also To

Take Margery In "A Rough Diamond," And Getting That Up In A

Week Is "Rough On" A Mediocre Amateur Like Myself!

 

This Is A _Curious_ Place. Very Nice,  Bar The East Winds. I Have Been

Down On The Shore This Morning. The Water Sobs At Your Feet,  And The

Ships And The Gulls Go Up And Down. Above,  A Compact Little Military

Station Clusters Together,  And Everywhere Are Guns,  Guns,  Guns; Old

Guns Lying In The Grass,  New Guns Shattering The Windows,  And Only

_Not_ Bringing Down The Plaster Because The Rooms Are Ceiled With Wood

"For The Same Purpose."...

 

 

 

 

To Mrs. Jelf.

 

Sunday,  April 1883.

 

 

 

 

My Dearest Marny,

 

I Must Write A Line To You About Your Poor Friends! It Is The

Tragedy Of This War! Very Terrible. I Hope The Bitterness Of Death Was

_Short_,  And To Gallant Spirits Like Theirs Hope And Courage Probably

Supported Them Till The Very Last,  When Higher Hopes Helped Them To

Undo Their Grasp On This Life.

 

In The Dying--They Suffered Far Less Than Most Of Us Will Probably

Suffer In Our Beds--But To Be At The Fullest Stretch