"Mrs. Dodd, may I be permitted to inquire—and I premise that the object of my question is neither any personal nor a mere vulgar curiosity, but simply to investigate what might be termed a physiological fact, namely, whether females really feel less than the males of the human species?"
My dear Tom, the calm tone of my exordium availed me nothing. To no end was it that I propounded the purely scientific basis of my investigation. She flew at me at once like a tigress. The abstract question that I had submitted for discussion she flung indignantly to the winds, and boldly asked me if I thought "to escape that way." "Escape "—that way! I was thunderstruck, stupefied, dumfoundered! Did the woman want to infer—could she by any diabolical ingenuity or perverseness imply—that I was possibly to blame for our late calamity? You 'll not credit it; nobody could, but it is the truth, notwithstanding. That was exactly the charge she now preferred against me. If I bad taken proper steps to investigate the "Baron's" real pretensions,—if I had made due and fitting inquiries about him,—if I had been commonly intelligent, and displayed the most ordinary knowledge of the world,—in fact, if, instead of being a bull-headed, blundering old Irish country gentleman, I had been a cross between a foreign prefect and a London detective, the chances were that we had been spared the mortification of exhibiting ourselves as endeavoring to dupe people who were already successfully engaged in duping us! This wasn't all, Tom, but she boldly propounded the startling declaration that she and Mary Anne both had suspected the Baron to be an imposition and a cheat! and although his low manners and vulgar tone imposed upon me, they had always regarded him as shockingly underbred! It was I, however, who had rushed into the whole misadventure,—it was I concocted the entire scheme,—I planned the visit,—I made up the match. My stupid cupidity, my blundering anxiety for a grand alliance, were the causes of all the evil! The mock munificence of my settlements was hurled at me as proof positive of the eagerness of my duplicity, and I was overwhelmed with a mass of accusations which I verily believe would have obtained a verdict against me at the hands of any honest and impartial jury of my countrymen.
I have more than once had to acknowledge, that when perfectly assured in my own conscience of my innocence, Mrs. D. has contrived to shake my doubts about myself, and at last succeeded in making me believe that I might have been culpable without knowing it. I suppose in these cases I may have been morally innocent and legally guilty, but I 'll not puzzle my head by any subtlety of explanation; enough if I own that a less enviable predicament no man need covet!
I sat under this new allegation sad, silent, and abashed; and although Mary Anne said but little, yet her occasional "You must admit, papa," "You will surely acknowledge," or "You cannot possibly forget," chimed in, and swelled the full chorus of accusation against me. If I said nothing, I thought the more. My reflections took this shape: Here is another blessed fruit of our coming abroad. Such an incident never could have befallen us at home. Why, then, should we continue to live on exposed to similar casualties?
Why reside in a land where we cannot distinguish the man of rank from his scullion, and where all the forms that constitute good breeding and, maybe, good grammar, are quite beyond our appreciation? Every dilettante scribbler for the magazines who sketches his rambles in Spain or Switzerland, grows jocose over some eccentricity or absurdity of his countrymen. Their blunders in language, dress, or demeanor are duly chronicled and relied upon as subjects for a droll chapter; but let me tell you, Tom, that the difficulties of foreign residence are very considerable indeed, and, except to the man who issues from England with a certain well-proved and admitted station, social or political, the society into which he may be thrown is a downright lottery. The first error he commits, and it is almost inevitable, is to mistake the common forms of hat-lifting and bowing for acquaintanceship. "Bull" thinks that the gentleman desires to know him, and obligingly condescends to accept his overtures. The foreigner, somewhat amused to see the veriest commonplace of politeness received as evidence of acquaintance, profits by the admission, chats, and comes to tea. Now, Tom, whether it be cheap soup, cheap clothing, cheap travelling, or cheap friendship, I have a strong prejudice against them all. My notion is that the real article is not to be had without some cost and trouble.
These were some of my ruminations as we rattled along; and although the road was interesting, and the day a fine bracing autumnal one, my mind was not attuned to pleasure or enjoyment We stopped to bait at Donaueschingen, for we were obliged, by some accident or other, to take the same horses on, and found a most comfortable little inn at the sign of the "Sharpshooter." After dinner we took a stroll in the garden of the palace of the mediatized Prince of Furstenberg; for, of course, there is a palace and a mediatized prince wherever there is a town of three thousand inhabitants throughout Germany. By the way, Napoleon treated these people pretty much like our own Encumbered Estates Court at home. He sold them out without any ceremony, and got rid of the feudal privileges and the seignorial rights with a bang of the auctioneer's hammer. Of course, as with us, there was often a great deal of individual hardship, but these little principalities were large evils, and half the disturbances of Europe grew out of their corrupt administration.
There is, I often fancy, a natural instinctive kind of corruption incidental to the dominion of a small state. They are too small and too insignificant to attract any attention from the world without, and within their own narrow limits there is no such thing as a public opinion. The ruler, consequently, is free to follow the caprices of his folly, his cruelty, or his wastefulness. He has neither to dread a parliament nor a newspaper. If he send his small contingent—a commander-in-chief and a drummer of great experience—to the great army of the Confederation he belongs to, he may tax his subjects, or hang them, to his heart's content! Now, I cannot imagine a worse state of things than this, nor any more likely to foster that spirit of discontent which every hour is adding to the feeling of the Continent.
While I am following this theme, I am forgetting what was uppermost a few minutes back in my mind. In the garden of the same palace, which belongs to a certain fount Furstenberg, there is a singularly beautiful little spring; it bubbles up amidst flowers and grass, and overruns the greensward in many a limpid streamlet. There is something in the unadorned simplicity of this tiny well, rippling through the yellow daffodils and "starry river buds," wonderfully pleasing; but what an interest fills the mind as we hear that this is the source of the Danube! "The mighty river that sweeps along through the rocky gorges of Upper Austria, washes the foundations of the Imperial Vienna, and flows on, ever swelling and widening and deepening, to the Black Sea,—that giant stream, so romantic in its associations with the touching tale of our own Richard,—so picturesque in its windings, so teeming with interest to the poet, the painter, the merchant, and the politician, there it is, a little crystal rivulet, whose destiny might well seem limited to the flowery borders, and blossoming beds around it." This isn't mine, Tom, though it's exactly what I would have said if the words occurred to me, but I copy it out of the Visitors' Book, where strangers write their names, and, so to say, leave their cards upon the infant Danube.
Truisms are only tiresome to the hearer; they are a delightful recreation to the man that tells them, so that I am sorely tempted to mention some of those that suggested themselves to my mind as I stood beside that little spring,—all the analogies that at once arose to my fancy, between human life and the course of a mighty river, between the turnings and twinings and aberrations of childhood, the headlong current of youth, the mature force of manhood, and the trackless issue, at last, into the great ocean of eternity! One lesson we may assuredly gather from the contemplation: not to predicate from small beginnings against the likelihood of a glorious future!
I left the place regretfully; the tranquil quietude of my two hours' ramble through the garden restored me to a serene and peaceful frame of mind. The little village itself, the tidy, unpretending inn, clean, comfortable, and a model of cheapness, were all to my fancy, and I could very well have liked to linger on there for a week or so. After all, what a commentary is it upon all pursuits of pleasure and amusement, to think that we really find our greatest happiness in those little, out-of-the-way, isolated spots, remote from all the attractions and blandishments of the gay world! I don't mean to say that Mrs. D. quite concurred with me, for she grew very impatient at my delay, and wondered excessively "what peculiar attraction the garden of the palace might have possessed, to make me forget myself." But it's not so easy a thing to do as she thinks! Forgetting oneself, Tom, implies so many other oblivions. It means forgetting one's tenants that have been over-rented, one's banker overdrawn, one's horses overworked, one's house out of repair, one's estate out at elbows; forgetting the duns that torment, the creditors that torture you,—the latitats, the writs, the mortgages, the bonds,—all the inflictions, in fact, consequent to parchment, signed, sealed, and delivered over to your persecuting angel! Oh dear, oh dear! what a thirsty swig would I take of Lethe if I could! and how happy would I be to start fresh in life without any one of the "liabilities," as they call them, that attach to Kenny Dodd!
I remember, when I was a schoolboy, no day of the week had such terrors for me as Saturday, because we were obliged to answer a repetition of the whole week's work. That carrying up of the past was a load that always destroyed me! My notion was to let bygones be bygones, and it was downright cruelty to take me over the old ground of my former calamities. The same prejudice has tracked me through life. I can face a new misfortune as well as my neighbors; what kills me is going back over the old ones. Let me tell you, too, that there is a great deal of balderdash talked in the world about experience,—that with experience you 'll do this, that, and t' other better. Don't believe a word of it. You might as well tell me that having the typhus will teach a man patience the next time he catches a fever! Take my word for it, be as fresh as you can against the ills of life,—know as little of them as you can,—think as little of them! Keep your constitution—whether it be moral or physical—as intact as you are able, and rely on it you 'll not fare the worse when it comes to the trial!
It was a fine evening, with a thin rim of a new moon in the sky, when we got ready to leave Donaueschingen. The bill for dinner came to about five shillings for three of us, wine included, and no charge for rooms, so that when I gave as much more to the servants, the enthusiasm of the household knew no bounds. The housemaid, indeed, in an excess of enthusiasm, would kiss my hand, and got rebuked by my wife as a "forward hussy, that ought to be well looked after." From this incident, however, our attention was soon diverted by the arrival of our second carriage, but without James! A note from Morris explained that he did not like to detain the servants, lest it should prove inconvenient to us, and that he would take care James should join us at Constance,—probably early on the next day. This note was handed to me by the post-boy,—a circumstance speedily accounted for, as I got out and saw that the whole company, consisting of Betty, Augustine, the courier, Paddy Byrne, and a fifth, unknown, were all very drunk and unable to speak, closely wedged in the britschka! Of course it was no time to ask for any explanations, and we came on to this place, which we reached by midnight.
As I have given you a somewhat full narrative of what befell us, I may as well, ere I conclude, add some words of explanation of the state of our amiable followers. Betty Cobb, it appears, was seized with connubial symptoms while we were at the castle, and, yielding to the soft impeachment, and not being deterred by any discovery of false rank or pretensions, actually bestowed her hand on a distinguished swineherd that pertained to the place. The wedding took place after we left, the convivial festivities being continued all along the road till they overtook us. Had the unlucky girl married a New Zealand chief, or a Kaffir, her choice could not have fallen upon a more thoroughly savage specimen of the human race. The fellow is a Black Forest Caliban of the worst description. The question is now what to do with him, for Mrs. D. will not consent to part with Betty, nor will Betty separate from her liege lord; so that amongst my other blessings I may number that of carrying about the world a scoundrel that would disgrace a string of galley-slaves! Just imagine, Tom, in the rumble of a travelling-carriage a fellow six foot and a half high, dressed in a cowhide, with an ox gond in his hand, and a long naked knife in his girdle, speaking no intelligible tongue, nor capable of any function save the herding of wild animals,—the most uncultivated specimen of brute nature I ever heard, saw, or even read of! Fancy, I say, the pleasure of "lugging" this creature over the Continent of Europe, feeding, housing, and clothing him, his sole claim being that he is the husband of that precious bargain, Betty Cobb!
Why, he 'd bring shame on a beast caravan! The best of it is, too, he holds to his "caste" like a Hindoo, and refuses all other occupation save the charge of swine. He would not aid to unload the carriage,—would not lift a trunk, nor carry a carpet-bag; and when admonished by Paddy for his laziness, showed two inches of a broad knife up his sleeve with a grin meant to imply that he knew how to resist any assault on his dignity! That the scoundrel has no respect for law, is clear enough; so that my hope is he will commit some terrible infraction, and that we may be able to send him to the galleys for the rest of his days. How I 'm to keep him and Paddy apart is more than yet appears to me. I suppose, in the end, one of them will kill the other.
From what I see here, the expense of keeping this beast—at an hotel at least—will be equal to the cost of three ordinary servants; for he has no regular meal-times, but has food cooked for him "promiscuously," and eats—if I 'm to credit the landlord—either a kid or a lamb per diem, A bear would n't be half the expense, and a far more companionable beast besides. It is but fair to say that Betty seems to adore him; she crams the monster all day with stolen victuals, and appears to have no other care in life than in watching after him.
What induces Mrs. D. to feel this sudden attachment to Betty herself, I can't imagine. Up to this she railed at her unceasingly, and deplored the day and the hour she took her from home. But now, when this alliance really makes her insupportable, she won't hear of parting with her, and submits to a degree of tyranny from this woman that is utterly inexplicable. It's another of those feminine anomalies, Tom, that neither you nor I, nor maybe anybody else, will ever be able to reconcile.
You will probably wonder how, at a moment like this, smarting as I am under the combined effects of insult and disappointment, I can turn my attention to a matter of this trifling nature; but I confess to you that the admission of this uncivilized element into the circle of my family inspires me with feelings of disgust, not unmixed with terror; for what he may do in any access of fury the infernal gods alone can say. So long as we are here, in this remote and little-visited town, the notice he attracts is confined to a troop of street loungers who follow him; but I have yet to learn how we are ever to make our appearance in a regular city in his company.
Now to another matter, Tom, and the most essential of all. What are we to do for money? for, whether we go on or go back, we must have it. I have n't the heart to go over the accounts; nor would it put sixpence more in my pockets, if I was like Babbage's calculating-machine! Screw up the tenants, and make them pay the arrears. Healey owes us at least two hundred pounds. Try if he can't pay half. See, besides, if you cannot find a tenant for the place, even for a year. This Exhibition in Dublin will fill the country with strangers; and a good advertisement of Dodsborough, with an account of the "shooting and fishing, capital society, and two packs of hounds in the neighborhood," might take the notice of some aspiring Cockney. From what I see in the papers, Ireland is going to be the fashion this summer. I suppose that she is starved down to the pitch to be "thin and genteel," and that's the reason of it.
Tell me what you think of this great display of "industrial products," as they call it. Are we as wonderful as the Irish papers say, or are we really as backward as the "Times" pronounces us? My own notion is that the whole thing proceeds on a misconception of the country and its capabilities. These Exhibitions are essentially dependent on manufacturing skill for their excellence. Now, we are not a manufacturing people. We are agriculturists, and so are the Yankees; and consequently the utmost we can do is to show off the clever inventions and cunning products of our neighbors. Writing, as I do, confidentially to yourself, I will own, too, that I am not one of those sanguine admirers of these raree-shows, nor do I see in them the seeds of all that progress that others prophesy. Looking at a wonderful mechanical invention will no more teach me to imitate it, than going to Batty's Circus will enable me to jump through a hoop, or ride on my head! Amusement, pleasure, interest, there is in one as much as the other; but as for any educational advantage, Tom, I don't believe in it. To the scientific man these things are all familiar,—to the peasant they are all miraculous; and though the Electric Telegraph be really a wonderful thing, after one sees the miracles of the Church it ceases to surprise you! At all events, give me some account of the place and the people in your next, and write soon.
I have kept this a day back, hoping to announce James's arrival here, but up to this there is no tidings of him. Yours, ever faithfully,
Kenny James Dodd.
P. S. I find now that this town is not in Switzerland, but in Baden, for the police have been here to know "who we are?" and "why we have come?"—two questions that would take longer to answer than they suspect. How absurd these little bits of national prejudice sound, when the symbol of nationality is only a blue post or a white one, and no geographical limit announces a new country. Droll enough, too, they are most importunate in their inquiries after James; as if the appearance of his name in the passport requires that he should be forthcoming when asked for. Ah, Tom! if the fellows that knocked old Europe about in '48 had resolutely set their faces against these stumbling-blocks to civilization—passports, police spies, town dues, and gate imposts,—they 'd have won the sympathy of millions, who do not care a rush about Universal Suffrage and the Liberty of the Press,—and, what is more, the concessions could never have been revoked nor recalled!
To myself, individually, the system presents few annoyances; for I sit serene behind my ignorance of all continental languages, and say to myself, "Touch me if you dare." Maybe they half suspect the substance of my meditations, for they show the greatest deference towards my condition of passive resistance. The Brigadier has just bowed himself out of the room, with what sounded like a hearty curse, but what Mary Anne assures me was a sincere protestation of his sentiment of "high consideration and esteem." And now to dinner.
Dearest Kitty,—With what rapture do I once more throw myself into the arms of your affection! How devotedly do I seek the sanctuary of my dearest Kitty's heart! It is all over, my sweet friend,—all over! I see you start,—your cheek is bloodless, and your lips tremble,—but reassure yourself, Kitty, and hear me. If there be anything against which I am weak and powerless,—if there be aught in life to oppose which I have neither strength nor energy,—it is the reproach of one I love! Already do I stand accused before you, even now have you arraigned me, and my condemnation is trembling on your lips. Avow it,—own it, dear girl. Your heart, at least, has said the words of my sentence: "All over! so then Mary Anne has jilted him,—changed her mind in the last hour,—trifled with his affections, and made a sport of his feelings." Yes, such is the charge against me; and, trembling as I stand before you, I syllable the word "Guilty." "Guilty, but with extenuating circumstances." Be calm then, be patient; and, above all, be merciful, while I plead before you.
I deny nothing, I evade nothing. I cannot even pretend that my altered feelings originated in any long process of reason or reflection. I will not affect to say that I struggled against conflicting doubts, and only yielded when powerless to resist them. No, dearest, I am above every such shallow artifice; and I own that it was on the very morning your letter arrived—at the moment when my hot tears were falling over the characters traced by your hand—as, enraptured, I kissed the lines that breathed your love—then there suddenly broke upon me a light illumining the dark horizon around me. Space became peopled with forms and images, voices and warnings floated around and above me, and as I read your words—"If, then, your whole heart be his"—I trembled, Kitty, my eyes grew dim, my bosom heaved in agony, and, in my heart-wrung misery, I cried aloud, "Oh, save me from this perfidy,—save me from myself!"
Save that the letter which my fingers grasped convulsively was the offspring of friendship and not of love betrayed, the scene was precisely like that which closes the second act of the "Lucia di Lammermoor." Mamma, the Baron, James, even to the priest, all were there; and, like Lucia, dressed in my bridal robe, the orange-flowers in my hair, and such a love of a Brussels veil fastened mantilla-wise to the back of the head, I stood pale, trembling, and conscience-stricken! the awful words of your question ringing in my ears, like the voice of an angel come to call me to judgment, "'If your whole heart be his!' But it is not," cried I, aloud,—"it is not, it never can be!" I know not in what wild rhapsody my emotions found utterance. I have no memory of that gushing cataract in which overwrought feelings found their channel. I spoke in that rapt enthusiasm in which, as we are told, the ancient priestesses delivered their dream-revealings, for I, too, was as one inspired, as agony alone can inspire. Of myself I know nothing, but I have since heard that the scene was harrowing to a degree that no words can convey. The Baron, mounted on his fastest courser, fled into the woods; James, spirited on by some imagined sense of injury, thirsting for a vengeance on he knew not what or whom, pursued him; mamma was seized with frantic screaming; and even papa himself, whose lethargic humor stands him like an armor of proof,—even he swore and imprecated in a manner that called forth a most impressive rebuke from the chaplain.
The scene changes,—we are away! The castle and its deep woods grow dim behind us; the wild mountains of the Schwartz Wald rise before and around us. The dark pines wave their stately tops, the wood-pigeon cries his plaintive note; rocky glen and rugged precipice, foaming waterfalls and wooded slopes, pass swiftly by, and on we hasten,—on and on; but, with all our speed, dark, brood-ing care can still outstrip us, and sorrow follows faster than the wind.
We arrived at Constance by midnight, when I soon betook me to bed, and cried myself to sleep. Sweet—sweet tears were they, flowing like the crystal drops from the margin of an overcharged fountain; for such was the heart of your afflicted Mary Anne.
It is not by any casuistry about the injustice I should have done, had I bestowed a moiety where I had promised a whole heart. It is not by any pretence that I felt this to be an unworthy artifice, that I now appeal to your merciful consideration. It is simply as one suddenly awakened to the terrible conviction that she cannot be loved as she is capable of loving; or, in other words, that she despairs of ever inspiring that passion which alone could requite her for the agony of love. Oh, Kitty, it is an agony, and such a one as no torture of human wickedness ever equalled. May you never feel it in that intensity of suffering which is alike its ecstasy and its woe!
Do not reproach me, Kitty; my heart has already done so, bitterly,—terribly! Again and again have I asked myself, "Who and what are you, that dare to reject rank, wealth, station, glorious lineage, and a noble name? If these and the most devoted love cannot move you, what are the ambitions that rise before you?" Over and over do I interrogate myself thus, and yet the only reply is, a heart-heaved sigh,—the spirit-wrung voice of inward suffering! You, dearest, who know your friend, will not accuse her of exaggerated or overwrought vanity. None so well as you are aware that these are not my characteristic failings.
An excess of humility may depreciate me, even to the lowliest condition of humble fortune; and if happiness be but there, I will not deem the choice a mean one! You will judge of the sincerity of my words, when I tell you that I have just been unpacking all my things, and putting them away in drawers and wardrobes; and oh, Kitty, if you could but see them! Papa was really splendid, and allowed me to order everything I could fancy. Of course his generosity fettered rather than stimulated my extravagance, so that I merely took the absolute nécessaire. Of these I may mention two cashmeres and three Brussels scarfs, one a perfect love; twelve morning, eighteen evening dresses, of which one for the altar is covered with Valenciennes, looped up with pearls and brilliants*, the corsage ornamented down the front with a bouquet of the same stones, arranged to represent lilies of the valley, with dewdrops,—a pretty device, and quite simple, to suit the occasion. The presentation robe is actually magnificent, and only needs a diamond parure to be queenly. How I dote, too, on these dear little bonnets! I never weary of trying them on; they sit so coquettishly on the back of the bead, and make one look sly and modest, and gentle and saucy, all at once! In this walk of art the French are incomparably above us. Dress with them observes all the harmony of color and the keeping of a great picture. No lilac bonnets and blue shawls,—no scarlets and pinks alternately killing and marring each other,—none of that false heraldry of costume by which your Englishwoman displays her vulgar wealth and ill-assorted finery. All is graceful, well toned, and harmonious. Your mise is, so to say, the declaration of your sentiments, just as the signal of a man-of-war proclaims her intention; and how ingenious to think that your stately cashmere suggests homage, your ermined mantle watchful devotion, your muslin peignoir confidence and intimate intercourse.
Now, your "English" must look all these to be intelligible, and constantly converts herself into a great staring, ogling, leering machine, very shocking to contemplate.
I need scarcely remark to you, dearest, that the step I have just taken has made my position in the family like that of the young lady who refused Louis Napoleon before Europe. Our situations, if you come to consider them, are wonderfully alike; and there are extraordinary points of resemblance between the gentlemen, to which I cannot at present more fully allude. The ungenerous observations and slighting allusions to which I am exposed would actually wring your heart. Even James remarked that the whole affair reminded him of Joe Hudson, who, after accepting an Indian appointment, refused to sail when he had obtained the outfit. "Mary Anne only wanted the kit," was the vulgar impertinence by which he closed this piece of flattery; and this was in allusion to the trousseau! Men are so shallow, so meanly minded, Kitty, and, above all, so ungenerous in the measure of our motives. They really think that we value dress for itself, and not as a means to an end,—that end being their own subjection! Mamma, I must say, is truly kind; she regrets, naturally enough you will think, the loss of a great alliance. She had pictured to herself the quartering of the M'Carthys with the house of W———, and ranged in imagination over various remote but ambitious contingencies; but, with true maternal affection, she has effaced all these memories from her heart, only to think of me and of my emotions. I have also been able to supply her with a consolation, no less great than unexpected, in this wise: papa, from one cause or other, had been of late seriously meditating a return to Ireland; I shame to say, Kitty, that he never valued, never understood the Continent; its habits, its ways, and its wines, all disagreed with him; financial reasons, too, influenced him; for somehow, up to this, we have been forced to overlook the claims of economy, and only regard those which refer to the station we are to maintain in society. Now, from all these causes, he had brought himself to think the only safety lay in a speedy retreat! Mamma had ascertained this beyond a doubt by some passages in Mr. Purcell's letters to papa; how obtained I know not. From these she gathered that at any moment he was capable of abandoning the campaign, and embarking the whole army! The misery such a course would entail upon us I have no need to enlarge upon; nor could I, if I tried, find words to depict the condition of suffering that would be ours if again domesticated in that dreadful island. Forgive me, dearest, if I wound one susceptibility of your tender heart,—I would not ruffle even a rose-leaf of your gentle nature; but I cannot refrain from saying that Ireland is very dreadful! Philosophers affect to tell us, Kitty, that from the chemical properties of meteoric stones we can predicate the nature of the planets from which they have fallen, and the most ingenious theories as to the structure, size, and conformation of their bodies are built upon such slender materials. Now, would it be too wide a stretch of ingenuity to apply this theory to home affairs, and argue, from the specimen one sees of the dear country, what must be the land that has reared them? And oh, Kitty, if so, what a sentence we should be condemned to pass!
But to the consolation of which I spoke, and which in this diversion I was nigh forgetting. Papa, as I mentioned, was bent on going home; and now these costly preparations of wedding finery offer the means of opposing him, for of what use could they possibly be at Dodsborough, Kitty? To what end that enormous outlay, if brought back to the regions of Bruff? Here is an expensive armament,—all the matériel of a campaign provided; who would counsel the consigning it to rust and decay? who would advise giving over to moths what might be made the adornment of some brilliant capital? Whether we consider the question morally, financially, or strategically, we arrive at the same conclusion. Such a display as this, if exhibited at home, would revolutionize the whole neighborhood, disgust them with home-grown gowns and bonnets, and lead to irrepressible extravagance, debt, and ruin. So far for moral considerations. Financially, the cost is incurred, and it only remains to make the outlay profitable; this, it is needless to say, cannot be done at Dodsborough. And now for the strategy, the tactical part, Kitty. We all know that whenever a marriage is broken off, scandal seizes the occasion for any reports she likes to circulate, and the good-natured world always agrees in condemning "the lady." If her character or conduct be unimpeachable, then they make searches as to her temper. She was a termagant that ruled her whole family, scolded her sisters, bullied her brothers, and was the terror of everyone. If this indictment cannot be sustained, they find a flaw in her fortune; her twenty thousand was "only ten;" ten, Irish currency; perhaps on an Irish mortgage of an Irish property, mayhap charged with Heaven knows what of annuities to Irish relations! Now, Kitty, it is essential to avoid every one of these evil imputations, and I have supplied mamma with so good a brief in the cause, so carefully drawn up, and so well argued, that I don't think papa will let the case go to a jury, or, in other words, that he will give in his submission at once. I have much more to tell you, and will write again to-morrow.
Ever yours in affection,
Mary Anne Dodd.
My dearest Kittt,—True to my pledge, I sit down to continue the revelations, the first volume of which is already before you; and as I left off in a chapter of désagréables, let me finish the theme ere I proceed to pleasanter paths and greener pastures.
Betty Cobb has gone and taken to herself a husband; and such a husband as really I did not fancy could be found nearer us than the Waterkloof, if that be the correct spelling of the pleasant locality in Kaffirland where some of the something—Fifth or Eighth—are always getting surprised and cut to pieces. The creature is a swineherd,—one of those dreadful semi-savages that Germany rears out of respect to its ancient traditions about wood demons and kobolds. So terrific an object I never beheld, and his "get up," as James would call it, equals his natural advantages.
You may remember the wretches who are thrusting the page into the furnace in Retsch's illustrations of Schiller's poem, "Der Gang auf den Eisenhammer,"—one of these is a flattering likeness of him. Betty, however, whose taste in manly beauty is not formed on the Antinous model, believes him to be perfection. At all events, no promise of double wages, presents, or other seductions could warp her allegiance from this seductive object; and as mamma suddenly discovered that she was quite indispensable to her, the consequence is that we have to accept the company and companionship of the graceful "Taddy," who is now part of our legation as a swineherd unattached. You must know, Kitty, that these worthy people, who are brought up from infancy to regard pigs as the most important part of the creation, are impressed with a profound contempt for the human species; that all their habits are imbued with swinish tastes, modes, and prejudices,—that they love to live in woods, sleep on the ground, and grunt their sentiments, when they have any. Whether these be the characteristics of conjugalism, or the features which, as the book says, "make home happy," time and Betty alone can tell. I must say that fear and disgust are, for the present, the impressions his appearance suggests to me; but Betty is clearly of a different mind.
Meanwhile, as regards ourselves, he is really a most embarrassing element of the state. He is totally unacquainted with all laws, divine and human, and only sufficiently gifted with speech to convey his commonest wishes; and, from what I can learn, Caspar Hauser was a man of the world in comparison to him. Papa is, of course, frantic at the thought of his pertaining to us,—but what is to be done? Betty has declared that she will follow him to Jericho; by which she means to some fabulous land of unreal geography; and mamma will not part with Betty. To-morrow, or next day, I expect to hear that Taddy protests he can't live without his pigs, and that a legion of swine become part of our travelling equipment. Already has his presence on our staff called for the attention of the authorities, who are, very naturally, curious to know what we mean by such a functionary. Papa, on his side, thinks it part of an Englishman's birthright to resist, oppose, and torment the police; and, of course, will give no information whatever as to why he is here, but avows his determination to retain him in his service just on that account.
These complications—to give them a mild name—have so absorbed me that I have forgotten to tell you about our present place of sojourn. The Lake of Constance sounds pretty, dearest. It seems to address itself at once to our sense of the beautiful, and our moral attachment to the true. As we approached it, I looked eagerly from the carriage, at each turning of the mountain road, for some glimpses of the scenery; but night fell suddenly, and closed all in darkness. Early on the following morning I arose, and taking Augustine with my sketch-book, hurried down to the border of the lake; for our most quaint and ancient "hostelry" stands in the very centre of the town, and fully fifteen minutes' walk from the water. We reached it suddenly, on turning the angle of a narrow lane, and came out upon a small stone pier projecting into the water, and this was the lake,—the Lake of Constance! Only think, Kitty, of a great wide expanse of bleak water, with low shores; no glaciers, no Alps, no sublimity! I could have cried with disappointment The custom-house people—very nice-looking men, with a becoming uniform of green and gold—assured me that at the upper end of the lake I should see the mountains of the Vorarlberg, and also the range of the Swiss Alps, and have abundant material for my pencil. Meanwhile they made an old boatman sit while I sketched him; he was mending his net, and with his long blue nightcap, and scarf of the same color, his snow-white beard, and fine Rembrandt color, he really made a charming study. The chief officer of the customs—a remarkably handsome man, with the very blackest moustaches—was in downright enthusiasm at the success of my little sketch; and really, as it was utterly valueless, I could not resist Augustine's entreaty to tear it out of my book and give it to him.
You can't think, Kitty' with what a graceful mixture of gratitude and dignity he accepted my worthless present. He might, so far as breeding went, have been a captain of hussars. He accompanied us all the way back to the hotel, having previously placed his boat and his boat's crew at my disposal during our stay here. Ah, Kitty, what a charm there is in the amiable tone of foreigners! How striking the contrast between their cultivated politeness and the rude barbarism of our own people! Fancy for a moment what is our home notion of a custom-house official!—a shabby genteel individual, with a week's beard and a brandy-and-water eye, that pokes into your trunk after French gloves, and searches your brother's pocket for cheroots. Imagine him beside one of these magnificently dressed and really splendid-looking men, with all the air of an aide-de-camp to the Queen! How naturally we are led to estimate the style in which people live by the dress and appointment of their household; and should we not pass a similar judgment on states, and argue, from the appropriate costume of the functionaries, to their own completeness and perfection of system?
I said nothing to mamma of our newly made acquaintance; for as I entered the inn I learned that James and another gentleman had just arrived, but so tired and fatigued that they both had given orders that they should not be disturbed on any account. You may be sure, Kitty, I was intensely curious to know who the stranger was; but all my inquiries were only so many additional provocatives to my eagerness, without any satisfaction! I learned, indeed, that he was young, handsome, tall, and spoke French and German fluently; so much so, indeed, that the waiter hesitated whether to call him English or not! James and his fellow-traveller had arrived by the diligence from Schaffhausen, so that there was really nothing by which we could catch a clew to his friend; and I was left to my patience and my conjectures till breakfast time.
I own to you, Kitty, the trial was too much for my nerves, overstrung as they have been by late events. I fancied a thousand things. I imagined incidents, events, casualties, of which, even to you, dearest, I cannot give the interpretation. Unable, at last, to resist the working of a curiosity that had risen to a torture, I took the resolution to awake James, and ask who was his friend. I traversed the corridor with stealthy footsteps, and sought out the number of his room. It was 43, the waiter said, and the last on the gallery; and so I found it. I turned the handle noiselessly, and entered. The window-curtains were closely drawn, and all was in deep shadow. In one corner of the chamber stood the bed, from which the deep respirations of the sleeper issued; and, poor fellow, it must have been more than common fatigue and weariness that could have caused such sounds. As with cat-like stillness I stole across the chamber, my eyes, growing accustomed to the dim half-light, began to discover objects on each side of me. For instance, I perceived a splendid dressing-gown of amber-colored silk, lined with pale blue, and gorgeously embroidered; a cap of the same colors, with a silver tassel of a foot in length, lay beside it Slippers of costly embroidery in silver thread, and a most magnificent meerschaum, with a mounting of gold and rubies, was on the table, beside a pair of pistols, whose carved stocks were inlaid with a tracery of the finest workmanship. These I knew to be James's, for I had seen them with him; and there were various other articles equally splendid and costly, all new to me,—such as card-cases, tablets, cigar-holders, and a most gorgeous dressing-case of gold and Bohemian glass, from which, really, I could scarcely tear myself away. I was well aware that James had set no limit to his personal extravagance; but these, and the display of rings, pins, buttons, shirt-studs, chains, and trinkets of all kinds, perfectly astounded me. And here let me remark, Kitty, that the young men of the present day far exceed us in all that pertains to this taste for ornamental jewelry. As my eyes ranged over these attractive and beautiful objects, I was particularly struck with an opal brooch, representing a parrot in the midst of palm-leaves. It was a most beautiful piece of enamel work, studded with gems of every brilliant hue.
It was, as you may imagine, far too pretty for a man's wear, and I resolved to profit by the occasion, to appropriate, or, as the Americans say, to "annex" it to my own possessions. I had just fastened it in the front of my dress, when the handle of the door turned, and—oh, Kitty! conceive my agony as I heard James's voice speaking from without! It was, therefore, not his chamber where I was standing, nor could the sleeper be he! Escape and concealment were my first thought, and I sprang behind a screen at the very moment the door opened. Should I live a hundred years, I shall never cease to remember the intense misery of that moment. You need only picture my situation to your own mind, to see how distressing it must have been. The certainty of being discovered if I made the slightest noise saved me from fainting, but I almost fancied that the loud beating of my heart might have betrayed me.
James came in without any peculiar deference for the sleeper's nerves, and, upsetting a chair or two, stumbled across the room towards the bed, on which he seated himself, calling out "George—Tiverton—old fellow! don't you mean to get up at all to-day?"
Oh, Kitty! fancy my trembling tenor as I heard that I was in the chamber of Lord George Tiverton. The very utmost I could do was to refrain from a scream; nor do I now know how I succeeded in repressing it.
It was not till after repeated efforts that James succeeded in awaking his friend, who at length, with a long-drawn sigh, exclaimed, "By Jove, Jemmy! I'm glad you routed me up. I 've had a horrid dream. Only think, I imagined that I was still in the House of Lords listening to that confounded case! I fancied that Scratchley was addressing their Lordships in reply, and pledging himself to show that gross neglect, and even cruelty, could be proved against me. The old scoundrel's harsh voice is still ringing in my ears, and I hear him tearing me to very tatters!"
"Was there anything of that sort?" said James, as he struck a light to his cigar and began smoking.
"Why, I must say, he was not complimentary. These fellows, you are aware, have a vocabulary of their own, and when setting up a defence for a pretty woman, married at seventeen, they pitch into one's little frailties at a very cruel rate. Not exactly that the narrative is very detrimental to a man's future prospects; what really damages you is what they call cruelty, and your wife's maid—particularly if she be a Frenchwoman—can always prove this."
"Indeed!" exclaimed James, in some astonishment.
"To be sure she can. Why, everything that thwarts her mistress in anything—good, bad, or indifferent—is cruelty in the French sense. You are rather given to fast acquaintances; you bring home with you to supper, some three or four times a week, detachments of that respectable company one meets at Tattersall's Yard, or in the Turf Club; chicken hazard and the coulisses of the opera are amongst your weaknesses; you have a taste for sport, and would rather take the odds against the favorite than lay out your spare cash at Howell and James's. That 's cruelty! When regularly done up in town, you make a bolt for Boulogne, or rush down to your shooting-box in the Highlands. That 's more cruelty, and neglect besides! Terribly pressed for money, you try to bully your wife's uncle, one of the trustees to her settlement, and threaten to kick him downstairs. Gross cruelty! Harder up again, you pledge her diamonds. Shocking cruelty! Cleared out and sold up, you suggest the propriety of her sending away the French maid, and travelling up to Paris alone. That's monstrous cruelty! And, in fact, all together establish a clear justification for anything that may befall you. Besides this, Jemmy, if you marry a girl of good family, she is sure to have either a father, an uncle, or a brother, or perhaps some three or four cousins in the Lords; now, whatever comes off, they oppose your bill, and as their Lordships only want to hear your story, to listen to the piquant narrative of domestic differences and conjugal jarrings, nobody cares a straw whether you succeed or not. Give me a light, Jim."
They both continued to puff their cigars for some time in silence, during which my sufferings rose to absolute torture; for, in addition to the shocking circumstances of my own situation, was now the fact of my having overheard a most private conversation.
"So they threw out your bill?" asked James, after a pause.
"Deferred judgment!" replied the other, puffing, "which comes to pretty nigh the same thing. Asked for further evidence, explanations, what not! Cursed cigars! don't draw at all."
"They 're Bollard's best Havannahs."
"Well, perhaps I've been unlucky in my choice; if so, it's not the first time, Jem;" and he laughed heartily at the notion. "I say, take care and don't say anything about this affair of mine."
"But it will be in all the papers. The 'Times' will give it to-morrow or next day."
"Not a bit of it,—had a private hearing, old fellow. Too many good names compromised to have the thing made town talk,—you understand."
"Ah, that's it!" said James.
"Yes, It 's one of the few privileges remaining to what Lord Grey calls 'our order,' except, perhaps, the judgments of the London magistrates. To do them justice, the fellows do know what a lord is, and 'they act accordingly.' There, it's out at last,"—and he threw away his cigar,—"and I suppose I may as well think of getting up. Just draw that curtain, Jem, and open the shutter."
Oh, Kitty dearest, can you form to yourself any idea of my situation! James had already risen from the bedside, and was groping his way to the window. Another moment, and the flood of light would pour into the room and inevitably discover me. My agitation almost choked me; it was like a sense of drowning, and at the same time accompanied by the terrible thought that I must not dare to cry for succor. James was busy with the button of the window-fastening,—another instant and it would be too late,—and with the energy of utter despair I sprang from behind the screen, and then, pushing it with all my force, upset it over the toilet-table, the whole tumbling against James with a horrid crash, and laying him prostrate beneath the ruins. I dashed from the room with the speed of lightning; I know not how I flew along the gallery, up the stairs, and gained my own chamber, but, as I turned the key inside, all consciousness left me, and I fell fainting on the floor. The noise of many footsteps on the corridor outside, and the sound of voices, aroused me. The fragments I could collect showed me that all were discussing the late catastrophe, and none able to explain it. Oh, Kitty, what a gush of delight rushed through me to hear that I had escaped unseen, unknown, unsuspected!
The general voice attributed the accident to James's awkwardness, and I could perceive that he had not escaped without some bruises.
It was a long time, too, ere I could turn my thoughts from my late peril to think of the strange revelation I had been witness to; nor was it without a certain shock to my feelings that I learned Lord George was married. His attentions to me were certainly particular, Kitty. No girl, with any knowledge of life, makes any mistake on the subject, because, if she entertains a doubt, she knows how at once to resolve it, by tests as unerring as those a chemist employs to discover arsenic.
Now, I had submitted him to one or two of these at times, and they all showed him to be "infallibly affected." With what a sense of disappointment, then, was I to hear that he was already married, the only alleviation being that he was seeking to dissolve the tie! Poor fellow! how completely did this unhappy circumstance explain many expressions whose meaning had hitherto puzzled me! How I saw through clouds and mists that once obscured the atmosphere of my hopes! And how readily did I forgive him for vacillation and uncertainty, which, before, had often distressed and displeased me. Until free, it was, of course, impossible that he could avow his sentiments undisguisedly, and now I recognized the noble character of the struggle that he had maintained with himself. Oh, Kitty, it is not only that "the course of true love never did run smooth," but it really could not be true love if it did so. The sluggish stream of common affection flows lazily along between the muddy banks and sedgy sides of ordinary life, but the boiling torrent of passionate love requires the rocks of difficulty to dam its course and impart that character of foamy impetuosity that sweeps away every obstacle and dashes onward to its goal regardless of danger! I 'm sure I feel quite convinced that such is the nature of Lord G.'s passion; and that now these stupid "Lords" have rejected his plea for a divorce, if he be not rescued by the hand of devoted affection, he may rash madly into every excess, and dissipate the great talents with which he is so remarkably gifted.
Be candid now, my darling Kitty, and confess frankly that you are greatly shocked at these doctrines, and your dear little Irish prudery blushes crimson at the bare thought of feeling even an interest in a man already married, and horrified at the notion of his hypothetical attentions. Yes, I see it all; your sweetly dimpled mouth is pursed up with conscious propriety, and you are arranging your features into all the sternness of judicial severity; but hear me for one moment in defence, if not in justification. All these things seem very dreadful to you in the solitudes of Tipperary, simply because of their infrequency. The man who has separated from his wife, or the woman divorced from her husband, are great criminals to your home-bred notions, and by your social code they are sentenced at once to a life of solitude and isolation; but in the real world, my dear Kitty, on the great stage of life, this severity would be downright absurdity; the category so mercilessly condemned by you is exactly that which contains the true salt of society; these are the very people that everybody calls charming, fascinating, delightful! All the elastic, buoyant natures, the joyous spirits, the invariable good tempers, the generous hearts one meets with, are amongst them. Why such happily gifted creatures should not have made their homes a paradise, is a problem none can solve. It is like the squaring of the circle,—the cause of Irish misery,—or anything else you can think of equally inscrutable; but the fact is as I tell you; and if you will just run your eye over any list of fashionable company, and select such as I speak of, believe me you will have extracted all the plums from the pudding. As for Lord George himself, a more delightful creature does not exist; and one has only to know him to be convinced that the woman who could not be happy with him must be a demon. Of the generous character he possesses, and at the same time the consummate tact of his manner, an instance grew out of the little event I have just related. In my confusion and embarrassment after escaping from the room, I totally forgot the brooch which I had placed in my dress, and actually came down to breakfast with it still there. Guess my shame and horror, Kitty, when James called out, across the table, "I say, Mary Anne, what a smart pin you 've got there,—one of the neatest things I have seen." I grew scarlet, then pale, and felt as if I was going to faint; when Lord George cried out, "It is, really, very tasty. I had one myself something like it, but the stones were emeralds, not rubies; and I think Miss Dodd's is prettier."
The man who could rescue one at such a conjuncture, Kitty, is worthy of all confidence, and so I told him by a glance. Meanwhile he gave the conversation another turn by proposing a fishing excursion on the lake, and immediately after breakfast we all sallied forth to the water.
Notwithstanding his agreeability,—and he never displayed it to greater advantage,—I was silent and abstracted during the entire day. The embarrassment of my position was almost unendurable; and it was only as he took my arm, to conduct me back to the hotel, that I regained anything like courage.
"Why are you so serious?" said he. "Mind, I don't want a confession; only, that I have a secret for your ear, whenever you will trust me with one of yours."
I made him no answer, Kitty, but walked along in silence, and with my veil down.
I write all these things to my dearest friend with less reserve than I could recall them to my own memory in solitude. I tell her everything; and she is the true partner of my joys, my sorrows, my hopes, and my terrors. Yet must I leave much to her imagination to picture forth the state of my affections, and the troubled sea of my heart's emotions. And, oh! dearest, kindest, tenderest of all friends, do not mistake, do not misconstrue the feelings of your ever attached and devoted
Mary Anne.
I wanted to tell you something of our future destination, and I have detained this for that purpose, but still everything is uncertain and undecided. Papa received a large packet, like law papers and leases, from Mr. Purcell yesterday, and has been occupied in perusing them ever since. We are in terror lest he should decide on going back; and every time he enters the room we are trembling in dread of the announcement. Mamma has had an hysterical attack in preparation for the moment, for the last twenty-four hours, and even if "no cause be shown," I fancy she will not throw away so much good agony for nothing, but take it out for what Sir Boyle Roach fought his duel, "miscellaneous reasons."
Cary is still staying with the Morrises. How she endures it I can't conceive; a half-pay lover and a half-pay ménage are two things that, to me at least, would be insupportable. The girl is really totally destitute of all proper pride, and makes the silly mistake of supposing that a spirit of independence is the best form of self-esteem. I suppose it will end by the "Captain's" proposing for her; but up to this, I believe, it is all friendship, regard, and so on.