CHAPTER V.
Shakspeare.
After the abrupt termination of Oakley’s last interview with Helen, he had quitted Lady Latimer’s lodgings in a state of mind bordering on distraction; and could Helen have seen his deportment during the rest of that night, it would have confirmed her first impression, created by his incoherent reproaches, that they could be but the ravings of insanity. He mounted his horse, and rode furiously away, not knowing or caring whither he went; as it was merely from himself and his own reflections that he sought to escape. But the pangs of self-reproach are not so easily avoided, though many were the efforts he made to convince himself that he was not so much in the wrong. He attempted to consider Helen as fickle and frivolous, the child of circumstance, and the willing slave of fashion. But it was all in vain! She always recurred to him patient in suffering loveliness, and bending under a load of grief, the burden of which had been doubled by the ebullitions of his ungovernable temper, and his wanton perversion of a sacred trust.
Towards dawn his horse began to remind him that the reasons for the continuance of their headlong course were not mutual, and he was then not displeased to find that he was quite in a different direction from Goldsborough Park, and much nearer Rockington Castle, to which he determined for the time to turn his steps, as best suited to his present gloomy frame of mind.
The outward appearance of every thing still remained the same—still the same stamp of solitary misanthropy on all around. He would not have been able, even if he had been willing, so soon to remove the desolating, characteristic traces of the late proprietor. But did he himself return the same? In one respect he had certainly maintained to the letter the resolution he had formed upon the acquisition of his property. In all the ordinary every day relations of life, he had always shown the same cold distrust towards those who sought his favour—the same haughty dislike to stoop to seek the favour of others.
But to this general rule in one instance the noble, and in another, the softer feelings of his nature had sought to establish two exceptions, and in both they seemed to have failed. Patriotic ambition had fired him with a desire to represent his native county in parliament. He had entered into the contest with the most disinterested intentions of benefiting the county by his active services. He had retired from it, the victim, as he thought, of the treachery of false friends, and the corruption of base competitors. Sometimes, to be sure, in spite of his desire to crush it, there would rise on his mind a suspicion that he might not have been sufficiently gracious upon his canvass, and that individual courtesy was sometimes esteemed no bad criterion of the sincerity of general good intentions.
Of the infinitely more painful impression left by a review of his conduct on the other occasion, he was unable to analyse the mixed nature. The ready relief which in the first instance he had hastened to grant to Mrs. Mordaunt, upon her appeal, was almost the only act in the disposal of his immense property upon which he could reflect with any feelings of peculiar complacency. To many of the more obvious claims upon his liberality to which his present situation had of course exposed him, he had felt averse, from a dislike of the very semblance of ostentation; to some more pressing demands for charity he had turned a deaf ear, from a constitutional fear of imposition. As to the expense incurred in a contested election, he thought his had been managed with the strictest economy; that is to say, an abuse of money to which few look without regret after success—none after failure. As to the more transient sources of enjoyment which a large fortune opens to him who delights to forget the graver cares in promoting the convivial intercourse of the world, to these his unsocial disposition placed a bar, which he had not as yet attempted to surmount.
From the first, therefore, he had experienced no pleasure from the possession of his splendid property, equivalent to that of placing the child of his benefactor above want. Afterwards, upon becoming acquainted with her, this satisfaction was blended with sensations of a stronger nature; and the impression made upon him was more powerful in proportion, as his heart was not habituated to feelings of this description. He would then have thought no sacrifice on his part too great to insure her happiness; and so far from considering the circumstance of her birth as a degradation, he only esteemed it an additional reason why he should endeavour to be the medium of endowing with his uncle’s worldly goods the only living relic he had left behind him.
And yet in an unguarded moment of passion, all these hopes and intentions had been overthrown. Though he would not have endured that any other person should insinuate that Helen was other than perfect, yet had his distrustful nature allowed him to imbibe the most absurd suspicions, and the most ridiculous jealousy, and under their influence to forget himself so far as to make disclosures which he could never sufficiently repent.
The longer he remained at Rockington Castle, the more acutely did these reflections prey upon his harassed mind. Every thing that reminded him of his uncle, gave him an additional pang of self-reproach, ashamed, as he could not but be, of having been the means of publishing his foibles where he would most have wished them concealed. Every time that he passed by the gallery where hung the portrait of Lord Rockington, which, from the first, had made so strong an impression upon his imagination, it recalled to his recollection the indignant expression which Helen’s countenance had assumed when repelling his insinuations against her friend.
All this he forced himself for some time to suffer, till he at last became sensible that he ought no longer to delay returning to Goldsborough Park, where many matters of various descriptions required his presence. One of the most urgent, was the state of the borough from which the park took its name.
Goldsborough was a neat little market-town, situated just at the park-gate. It had no peculiar claims to consequence, founded on trade, or manufactures, but it abounded in those never-failing signs of independent competency, green doors, with bright brass knockers, fenced in by white railings, containing five feet of gravel walk, and as much of border on each side crowded with hollyoaks and sunflowers.
In most of the dwellings so situated, resided the electors, who had been long accustomed to attend to the wishes of their near neighbours at the park, in the choice of their members. In the early part of Lord Rockington’s life, this had not been without its advantages, as far as a quiet little inland market-town, with no particular pretensions of any kind, could desire. Latterly this interest had been kept up, as much as was in his power, by Mr. Gardner, and was one of the many instances in which he had attended to his employer’s interests beyond the strict line of his duty.
Since Oakley had come into possession, he had given many causes of offence: not the least was, that from a dislike to intrusion upon his privacy, he had shut up the park, and by that means deprived the corporation and the wives of its members of their regular Sunday stroll, where, from time immemorial, they had always carved true love upon the trees, and picked chicken bones under them. This had been a grievous offence, and had been aggravated by many other instances of neglect; so much so, that when Oakley wished, in case he should fail in the county, at least to gain a seat in parliament by returning himself for Goldsborough—unexpected grumblings occurred. These, however, were luckily checked, instead of encouraged, by one of the leading members of the corporation, the ex-mayor, whose consequence shone conspicuous in double the usual width of white rail, and double the usual width of gravel walk.
This gentleman was a retired member of the medical profession, and during a successful practice, had been present at most of the exits and entrances that the fluctuating population of the neighbourhood had been subject to, for twenty years. He was a very worthy man, and a very popular character in the town, and finding his leisure hang rather heavy on his hands, it had occurred to him that he might as well turn his attention from physical to political constitutions, and take to prescribing for the state.
The representation of his native town seemed quite within the reach of his ambition, and he thought that to enter into such a compromise with Oakley, as to share the representation with him as his colleague, would be the best means of obtaining that object.
Oakley at this moment was rather harassed with the difficulties of the county election, and only anxious to secure his own return. Entertaining notions on the subject of reform, which were incompatible with dictation if he had had the power to enforce it, (which he had not,) and having no friend of his own to propose, he made no objection. The other eleven electors on their part, were quite satisfied with such an indication of their independence, as taking away from Oakley the nomination to one of the seats, and not a little pleased with the manner of doing it, by making a ‘parliament man’ of one of their own body. The medical member, however, soon afterwards found his fellow-townsmen not a little dissatisfied with his colleague’s subsequent conduct. His absence at the election had been easily accounted for, by his being occupied with the county contest; but they did not by any means approve, subsequently to his defeat, of his not coming near them, or taking any notice of his new constituents. This having been communicated to him by his colleague, had determined him to go back to Goldsborough; and as he had felt the inconvenience of indulging his natural disposition, he arrived among the electors with a resolution to be as civil and courteous as possible.
He had arrived late one night at the park, and as he was coming down stairs the next morning, he already found symptoms, as he thought, of his new colleague having arrived, for he saw, pacing round the space before the door, two saddle-horses, the collar-marks on whose necks seemed to indicate that their matching so well was not accidental. On the back of one, was a saddle of the most brilliant newness, the other was mounted by a gawky lad, who had, of course, the brevet rank of groom, though his dress, consisting of a cerulean coloured frock-coat and red plush breeches, with gaiters, showed that his avocations were not limited to the stable department.
Oakley, descending to the saloon, and not meeting the servant who was in search of him to announce the visitor, there encountered, not his colleague the ex-mayor, and new member, but our old acquaintance, Captain Wilcox, who had recently established himself in the neighbourhood, and was come to pay his respects.
It will be recollected, that Mr. Gardner had been very anxious that Oakley should purchase a freehold property then on sale, which overlooked his grounds; but he, suspicious that there was some advantage intended to be taken of him in the business, had not been able to make up his mind to give an assent.
This property had fallen into the hands of Captain Wilcox, who being desirous to change his ingots for acres, had immediately set about building upon it. As Oakley never encouraged his steward to make communications of this kind, they were no longer made to him; and as it was quite dark when he arrived the night before, he had not seen any symptoms of recent proprietorship.
He had never previously been acquainted either with his new colleague or new neighbour, and there was nothing in the appearance of the gentleman whom he found in the saloon, which might not as well belong to a retired member of the medical, as of the military profession, or at all to indicate the sort of deaths in which he had formerly dealt. He therefore acted upon his lately-formed determination to be peculiarly civil, and welcomed his visitor with great courtesy. Encouraged by this, (for he had previously been a little abashed at the idea of Oakley’s stiff manner,) the captain began.
“Allow me, sir,” said he, “to offer my compliments upon your return.”
Oakley, who imagined this to refer to his election, answered very graciously: “You must allow me to say, I consider you as the cause of my return.”
“Oh, you are a great deal too good to say so, but I hope we shall be mutually agreeable in our new situation.”
“I can assure you, such is my intention.”
“I hope, too, that you will acquit me of wishing to intrude myself upon what you may almost have considered as your property.”
“Indeed, nothing can be farther from my notions, than to reckon as property, what can neither be bought nor sold; I considered it as a sacred trust, and am perfectly satisfied as it is.”
“Oh, you thought it trust-property, and not to be bought; and, to be sure, you ought to be satisfied, for you had pretty pickings without buying a bit—but I was very anxious to purchase a seat.”
“You surely don’t mean,” said Oakley, “that you have paid for it?”
“Indeed, but I have, and much more since. The house, I hope, will be an object you will rather like to look to.”
“I have always considered it the great object of my admiration and envy.”
“Oh, let me beg at least you’ll never think of making speeches,” said the captain, rather overpowered with the apparent hyperbole of the expression.
“Sir!” said Oakley, surprised in his turn; and then checking himself, he added, “I can only repeat, that my great desire has for some time past been to be in it.”
“I’m sure I shall be most happy to see you there, and so will my Fanny,” moving to depart.
“Who?” enquired Oakley, completely puzzled.
“Fanny, my Fanny—Mrs. Wilcox. I dare say you can see her in the garden from this window,” drawing aside the blind, and disclosing for the first time, to Oakley’s horror, a staring half-finished bright brick tenement upon a rising knoll, only half a mile from him.
“Upon my word you are right, sir; Wilcox House is a very fine object for you from hence. I thought of calling it Wilcox Abbey, for the stable has a high narrow window in it, but House sounds more snug and substantial. Oh yes, I declare that will be delightful for you: you can distinguish Mrs. Wilcox in her yellow gown among the roses. You’ll excuse me, sir, I’ve not let her wear a green gown since the election. You’ll excuse me,—I’m glad to see it’s all ‘forget and forgive,’ and that we shall always be as neighbourly as if nothing had happened. We are almost within hail, and quite within call,—you understand the difference.”
With this he took his leave, smirking and bowing, and so much pleased with the reception given him in the early part of his visit, as to be unconscious of the sudden change in Oakley’s deportment at the concluding discovery he had made as the captain began his last speech, the course of which he would have doubtless interrupted immediately, had there not been something so painfully ludicrous in the situation, that he felt his tongue tied at the moment.
Long after his visitor had left the room, and even after he had, with much effort and no slight fear, restored himself to his new saddle, and departed, Oakley continued gazing with uncontrolled disgust at the obtrusive expanse of red brick before him; and it was no pleasant part of his reflections, that this he might have prevented if he had not chosen, without any adequate ground, to suspect Mr. Gardner of intending to deceive him. Now he would gladly have given five times the sum to be able to toss it, brick by brick, into the river; but from what he had seen of the situation in life and manners of his late visitor, it was evident that this would not now be so easy, and that the captain would probably consider one of the great advantages of a long purse, the power of boasting that he was above being bought out; and that, if he once found how galling his late acquisition was, the idea of elbowing a grandee would add much to the value of the property in his eyes.
Still, as he walked from window to window, there it was, staring him full in the face; he felt it impossible to bear this, and therefore abandoning his good intentions of propitiating his constituents, which had so unfortunately been baulked when he was prepared to put them into practice, he determined, as the season was advanced, and parliament about to meet, to start for London.