Chapter 31
March 20th, 1824. The dreaded time is come, and Arthur is gone, asI expected. This time he announced it his intention to make but ashort stay in London, and pass over to the Continent, where heshould probably stay a few weeks; but I shall not expect him tillafter the lapse of many weeks: I now know that, with him, dayssignify weeks, and weeks months.
July 30th. - He returned about three weeks ago, rather better inhealth, certainly, than before, but still worse in temper. Andyet, perhaps, I am wrong: it is I that am less patient andforbearing. I am tired out with his injustice, his selfishness andhopeless depravity. I wish a milder word would do; I am no angel,and my corruption rises against it. My poor father died last week:Arthur was vexed to hear of it, because he saw that I was shockedand grieved, and he feared the circumstance would mar his comfort.When I spoke of ordering my mourning, he exclaimed, - 'Oh, I hateblack! But, however, I suppose you must wear it awhile, for form'ssake; but I hope, Helen, you won't think it your bounden duty tocompose your face and manners into conformity with your funerealgarb. Why should you sigh and groan, and I be made uncomfortable,because an old gentleman in -shire, a perfect stranger to us both,has thought proper to drink himself to death? There, now, Ideclare you're crying! Well, it must be affectation.'
He would not hear of my attending the funeral, or going for a dayor two, to cheer poor Frederick's solitude. It was quiteunnecessary, he said, and I was unreasonable to wish it. What wasmy father to me? I had never seen him but once since I was a baby,and I well knew he had never cared a stiver about me; and mybrother, too, was little better than a stranger. 'Besides, dearHelen,' said he, embracing me with flattering fondness, 'I cannotspare you for a single day.'
'Then how have you managed without me these many days?' said I.
'Ah! then I was knocking about the world, now I am at home, andhome without you, my household deity, would be intolerable.'
'Yes, as long as I am necessary to your comfort; but you did notsay so before, when you urged me to leave you, in order that youmight get away from your home without me,' retorted I; but beforethe words were well out of my mouth, I regretted having utteredthem. It seemed so heavy a charge: if false, too gross an insult;if true, too humiliating a fact to be thus openly cast in histeeth. But I might have spared myself that momentary pang of self-reproach. The accusation awoke neither shame nor indignation inhim: he attempted neither denial nor excuse, but only answeredwith a long, low, chuckling laugh, as if he viewed the wholetransaction as a clever, merry jest from beginning to end. Surelythat man will make me dislike him at last!
Sine as ye brew, my maiden fair,Keep mind that ye maun drink the yill.
Yes; and I will drink it to the very dregs: and none but myselfshall know how bitter I find it!
August 20th. - We are shaken down again to about our usualposition. Arthur has returned to nearly his former condition andhabits; and I have found it my wisest plan to shut my eyes againstthe past and future, as far as he, at least, is concerned, and liveonly for the present: to love him when I can; to smile (ifpossible) when he smiles, be cheerful when he is cheerful, andpleased when he is agreeable; and when he is not, to try to makehim so; and if that won't answer, to bear with him, to excuse him,and forgive him as well as I can, and restrain my own evil passionsfrom aggravating his; and yet, while I thus yield and minister tohis more harmless propensities to self-indulgence, to do all in mypower to save him from the worse.
But we shall not be long alone together. I shall shortly be calledupon to entertain the same select body of friends as we had theautumn before last, with the addition of Mr. Hattersley and, at myspecial request, his wife and child. I long to see Milicent, andher little girl too. The latter is now above a year old; she willbe a charming playmate for my little Arthur.
September 30th. - Our guests have been here a week or two; but Ihave had no leisure to pass any comments upon them till now. Icannot get over my dislike to Lady Lowborough. It is not foundedon mere personal pique; it is the woman herself that I dislike,because I so thoroughly disapprove of her. I always avoid hercompany as much as I can without violating the laws of hospitality;but when we do speak or converse together, it is with the utmostcivility, even apparent cordiality on her part; but preserve mefrom such cordiality! It is like handling brier-roses and may-blossoms, bright enough to the eye, and outwardly soft to thetouch, but you know there are thorns beneath, and every now andthen you feel them too; and perhaps resent the injury by crushingthem in till you have destroyed their power, though somewhat to thedetriment of your own fingers.
Of late, however, I have seen nothing in her conduct towards Arthurto anger or alarm me. During the first few days I thought sheseemed very solicitous to win his admiration. Her efforts were notunnoticed by him: I frequently saw him smiling to himself at herartful manoeuvres: but, to his praise be it spoken, her shaftsfell powerless by his side. Her most bewitching smiles, herhaughtiest frowns were ever received with the same immutable,careless good-humour; till, finding he was indeed impenetrable, shesuddenly remitted her efforts, and became, to all appearance, asperfectly indifferent as himself. Nor have I since witnessed anysymptom of pique on his part, or renewed attempts at conquest uponhers.
This is as it should be; but Arthur never will let me be satisfiedwith him. I have never, for a single hour since I married him,known what it is to realise that sweet idea, 'In quietness andconfidence shall be your rest.' Those two detestable men, Grimsbyand Hattersley, have destroyed all my labour against his love ofwine. They encourage him daily to overstep the bounds ofmoderation, and not unfrequently to disgrace himself by positiveexcess. I shall not soon forget the second night after theirarrival. Just as I had retired from the dining-room with theladies, before the door was closed upon us, Arthur exclaimed, -'Now then, my lads, what say you to a regular jollification?'
Milicent glanced at me with a half-reproachful look, as if I couldhinder it; but her countenance changed when she heard Hattersley'svoice, shouting through door and wall, - 'I'm your man! Send formore wine: here isn't half enough!'
We had scarcely entered the drawing-room before we were joined byLord Lowborough.
'What can induce you to come so soon?' exclaimed his lady, with amost ungracious air of dissatisfaction.
'You know I never drink, Annabella,' replied he seriously.
'Well, but you might stay with them a little: it looks so silly tobe always dangling after the women; I wonder you can!'
He reproached her with a look of mingled bitterness and surprise,and, sinking into a chair, suppressed a heavy sigh, bit his palelips, and fixed his eyes upon the floor.
'You did right to leave them, Lord Lowborough,' said I. 'I trustyou will always continue to honour us so early with your company.And if Annabella knew the value of true wisdom, and the misery offolly and - and intemperance, she would not talk such nonsense -even in jest.'
He raised his eyes while I spoke, and gravely turned them upon me,with a half-surprised, half-abstracted look, and then bent them onhis wife.
'At least,' said she, 'I know the value of a warm heart and a bold,manly spirit.'
'Well, Annabella,' said he, in a deep and hollow tone, 'since mypresence is disagreeable to you, I will relieve you of it.'
'Are you going back to them, then?' said she, carelessly.
'No,' exclaimed he, with harsh and startling emphasis. 'I will notgo back to them! And I will never stay with them one moment longerthan I think right, for you or any other tempter! But you needn'tmind that; I shall never trouble you again by intruding my companyupon you so unseasonably.'
He left the room: I heard the hall-door open and shut, andimmediately after, on putting aside the curtain, I saw him pacingdown the park, in the comfortless gloom of the damp, cloudytwilight.
'It would serve you right, Annabella,' said I, at length, 'if LordLowborough were to return to his old habits, which had so nearlyeffected his ruin, and which it cost him such an effort to break:you would then see cause to repent such conduct as this.'
'Not at all, my dear! I should not mind if his lordship were tosee fit to intoxicate himself every day: I should only the soonerbe rid of him.'
'Oh, Annabella!' cried Milicent. 'How can you say such wickedthings! It would, indeed, be a just punishment, as far as you areconcerned, if Providence should take you at your word, and make youfeel what others feel, that - ' She paused as a sudden burst ofloud talking and laughter reached us from the dining-room, in whichthe voice of Hattersley was pre-eminently conspicuous, even to myunpractised ear.
'What you feel at this moment, I suppose?' said Lady Lowborough,with a malicious smile, fixing her eyes upon her cousin'sdistressed countenance.
The latter offered no reply, but averted her face and brushed awaya tear. At that moment the door opened and admitted Mr. Hargrave,just a little flushed, his dark eyes sparkling with unwontedvivacity.
'Oh, I'm so glad you're come, Walter?' cried his sister. 'But Iwish you could have got Ralph to come too.'
'Utterly impossible, dear Milicent,' replied he, gaily. 'I hadmuch ado to get away myself. Ralph attempted to keep me byviolence; Huntingdon threatened me with the eternal loss of hisfriendship; and Grimsby, worse than all, endeavoured to make meashamed of my virtue, by such galling sarcasms and innuendoes as heknew would wound me the most. So you see, ladies, you ought tomake me welcome when I have braved and suffered so much for thefavour of your sweet society.' He smilingly turned to me and bowedas he finished the sentence.
'Isn't he handsome now, Helen!' whispered Milicent, her sisterlypride overcoming, for the moment, all other considerations.
'He would be,' I returned, 'if that brilliance of eye, and lip, andcheek were natural to him; but look again, a few hours hence.'
Here the gentleman took a seat near me at the table, and petitionedfor a cup of coffee.
'I consider this an apt illustration of heaven taken by storm,'said he, as I handed one to him. 'I am in paradise, now; but Ihave fought my way through flood and fire to win it. RalphHattersley's last resource was to set his back against the door,and swear I should find no passage but through his body (a prettysubstantial one too). Happily, however, that was not the onlydoor, and I effected my escape by the side entrance through thebutler's pantry, to the infinite amazement of Benson, who wascleaning the plate.'
Mr. Hargrave laughed, and so did his cousin; but his sister and Iremained silent and grave.
'Pardon my levity, Mrs. Huntingdon,' murmured he, more seriously,as he raised his eyes to my face. 'You are not used to thesethings: you suffer them to affect your delicate mind too sensibly.But I thought of you in the midst of those lawless roysterers; andI endeavoured to persuade Mr. Huntingdon to think of you too; butto no purpose: I fear he is fully determined to enjoy himself thisnight; and it will be no use keeping the coffee waiting for him orhis companions; it will be much if they join us at tea. Meantime,I earnestly wish I could banish the thoughts of them from your mind- and my own too, for I hate to think of them - yes - even of mydear friend Huntingdon, when I consider the power he possesses overthe happiness of one so immeasurably superior to himself, and theuse he makes of it - I positively detest the man!'
'You had better not say so to me, then,' said I; 'for, bad as heis, he is part of myself, and you cannot abuse him withoutoffending me.'
'Pardon me, then, for I would sooner die than offend you. But letus say no more of him for the present, if you please.'
At last they came; but not till after ten, when tea, which had beendelayed for more than half an hour, was nearly over. Much as I hadlonged for their coming, my heart failed me at the riotous uproarof their approach; and Milicent turned pale, and almost startedfrom her seat, as Mr. Hattersley burst into the room with aclamorous volley of oaths in his mouth, which Hargrave endeavouredto check by entreating him to remember the ladies.
'Ah! you do well to remind me of the ladies, you dastardlydeserter,' cried he, shaking his formidable fist at his brother-in-law. 'If it were not for them, you well know, I'd demolish you inthe twinkling of an eye, and give your body to the fowls of heavenand the lilies of the fields!' Then, planting a chair by LadyLowborough's side, he stationed himself in it, and began to talk toher with a mixture of absurdity and impudence that seemed rather toamuse than to offend her; though she affected to resent hisinsolence, and to keep him at bay with sallies of smart andspirited repartee.
Meantime Mr. Grimsby seated himself by me, in the chair vacated byHargrave as they entered, and gravely stated that he would thank mefor a cup of tea: and Arthur placed himself beside poor Milicent,confidentially pushing his head into her face, and drawing incloser to her as she shrank away from him. He was not so noisy asHattersley, but his face was exceedingly flushed: he laughedincessantly, and while I blushed for all I saw and heard of him, Iwas glad that he chose to talk to his companion in so low a tonethat no one could hear what he said but herself.
'What fools they are!' drawled Mr. Grimsby, who had been talkingaway, at my elbow, with sententious gravity all the time; but I hadbeen too much absorbed in contemplating the deplorable state of theother two - especially Arthur - to attend to him.
'Did you ever hear such nonsense as they talk, Mrs. Huntingdon?' hecontinued. 'I'm quite ashamed of them for my part: they can'ttake so much as a bottle between them without its getting intotheir heads - '
'You are pouring the cream into your saucer, Mr. Grimsby.'
'Ah! yes, I see, but we're almost in darkness here. Hargrave,snuff those candles, will you?'
'They're wax; they don't require snuffing,' said I.
'"The light of the body is the eye,"' observed Hargrave, with asarcastic smile. '"If thine eye be single, thy whole body shall befull of light."'
Grimsby repulsed him with a solemn wave of the hand, and thenturning to me, continued, with the same drawling tones and strangeuncertainty of utterance and heavy gravity of aspect as before:'But as I was saying, Mrs. Huntingdon, they have no head at all:they can't take half a bottle without being affected some way;whereas I - well, I've taken three times as much as they have to-night, and you see I'm perfectly steady. Now that may strike youas very singular, but I think I can explain it: you see theirbrains - I mention no names, but you'll understand to whom I allude- their brains are light to begin with, and the fumes of thefermented liquor render them lighter still, and produce an entirelight-headedness, or giddiness, resulting in intoxication; whereasmy brains, being composed of more solid materials, will absorb aconsiderable quantity of this alcoholic vapour without theproduction of any sensible result - '
'I think you will find a sensible result produced on that tea,'interrupted Mr. Hargrave, 'by the quantity of sugar you have putinto it. Instead of your usual complement of one lump, you haveput in six.'
'Have I so?' replied the philosopher, diving with his spoon intothe cup, and bringing up several half-dissolved pieces inconfirmation of the assertion. 'Hum! I perceive. Thus, Madam,you see the evil of absence of mind - of thinking too much whileengaged in the common concerns of life. Now, if I had had my witsabout me, like ordinary men, instead of within me like aphilosopher, I should not have spoiled this cup of tea, and beenconstrained to trouble you for another.'
'That is the sugar-basin, Mr. Grimsby. Now you have spoiled thesugar too; and I'll thank you to ring for some more, for here isLord Lowborough at last; and I hope his lordship will condescend tosit down with us, such as we are, and allow me to give him sometea.'
His lordship gravely bowed in answer to my appeal, but saidnothing. Meantime, Hargrave volunteered to ring for the sugar,while Grimsby lamented his mistake, and attempted to prove that itwas owing to the shadow of the urn and the badness of the lights.
Lord Lowborough had entered a minute or two before, unobserved byan one but me, and had been standing before the door, grimlysurveying the company. He now stepped up to Annabella, who satwith her back towards him, with Hattersley still beside her, thoughnot now attending to her, being occupied in vociferously abusingand bullying his host.
'Well, Annabella,' said her husband, as he leant over the back ofher chair, 'which of these three "bold, manly spirits" would youhave me to resemble?'
'By heaven and earth, you shall resemble us all!' cried Hattersley,starting up and rudely seizing him by the arm. 'Hallo,Huntingdon!' he shouted - 'I've got him! Come, man, and help me!And d-n me, if I don't make him drunk before I let him go! Heshall make up for all past delinquencies as sure as I'm a livingsoul!'
There followed a disgraceful contest: Lord Lowborough, indesperate earnest, and pale with anger, silently struggling torelease himself from the powerful madman that was striving to draghim from the room. I attempted to urge Arthur to interfere inbehalf of his outraged guest, but he could do nothing but laugh.
'Huntingdon, you fool, come and help me, can't you!' criedHattersley, himself somewhat weakened by his excesses.
'I'm wishing you God-speed, Hattersley,' cried Arthur, 'and aidingyou with my prayers: I can't do anything else if my life dependedon it! I'm quite used up. Oh - oh!' and leaning back in his seat,he clapped his hands on his sides and groaned aloud.
'Annabella, give me a candle!' said Lowborough, whose antagonisthad now got him round the waist and was endeavouring to root himfrom the door-post, to which he madly clung with all the energy ofdesperation.
'I shall take no part in your rude sports!' replied the lady coldlydrawing back. 'I wonder you can expect it.' But I snatched up acandle and brought it to him. He took it and held the flame toHattersley's hands, till, roaring like a wild beast, the latterunclasped them and let him go. He vanished, I suppose to his ownapartment, for nothing more was seen of him till the morning.Swearing and cursing like a maniac, Hattersley threw himself on tothe ottoman beside the window. The door being now free, Milicentattempted to make her escape from the scene of her husband'sdisgrace; but he called her back, and insisted upon her coming tohim.
'What do you want, Ralph?' murmured she, reluctantly approachinghim.
'I want to know what's the matter with you,' said he, pulling heron to his knee like a child. 'What are you crying for, Milicent? -Tell me!'
'I'm not crying.'
'You are,' persisted he, rudely pulling her hands from her face.'How dare you tell such a lie!'
'I'm not crying now,' pleaded she.
'But you have been, and just this minute too; and I will know whatfor. Come, now, you shall tell me!'
'Do let me alone, Ralph! Remember, we are not at home.'
'No matter: you shall answer my question!' exclaimed hertormentor; and he attempted to extort the confession by shakingher, and remorselessly crushing her slight arms in the gripe of hispowerful fingers.
'Don't let him treat your sister in that way,' said I to Mr.Hargrave.
'Come now, Hattersley, I can't allow that,' said that gentleman,stepping up to the ill-assorted couple. 'Let my sister alone, ifyou please.'
And he made an effort to unclasp the ruffian's fingers from herarm, but was suddenly driven backward, and nearly laid upon thefloor by a violent blow on the chest, accompanied with theadmonition, 'Take that for your insolence! and learn to interferebetween me and mine again.'
'If you were not drunk, I'd have satisfaction for that!' gaspedHargrave, white and breathless as much from passion as from theimmediate effects of the blow.
'Go to the devil!' responded his brother-in-law. 'Now, Milicent,tell me what you were crying for.'
'I'll tell you some other time,' murmured she, 'when we are alone.'
'Tell me now!' said he, with another shake and a squeeze that madeher draw in her breath and bite her lip to suppress a cry of pain.
'I'll tell you, Mr. Hattersley,' said I. 'She was crying from pureshame and humiliation for you; because she could not bear to seeyou conduct yourself so disgracefully.'
'Confound you, Madam!' muttered he, with a stare of stupidamazement at my 'impudence.' 'It was not that - was it, Milicent?'
She was silent.
'Come, speak up, child!'
'I can't tell now,' sobbed she.
'But you can say "yes" or "no" as well as "I can't tell." - Come!'
'Yes,' she whispered, hanging her head, and blushing at the awfulacknowledgment.
'Curse you for an impertinent hussy, then!' cried he, throwing herfrom him with such violence that she fell on her side; but she wasup again before either I or her brother could come to herassistance, and made the best of her way out of the room, and, Isuppose, up-stairs, without loss of time.
The next object of assault was Arthur, who sat opposite, and had,no doubt, richly enjoyed the whole scene.
'Now, Huntingdon,' exclaimed his irascible friend, 'I will not haveyou sitting there and laughing like an idiot!'
'Oh, Hattersley,' cried he, wiping his swimming eyes - 'you'll bethe death of me.'
'Yes, I will, but not as you suppose: I'll have the heart out ofyour body, man, if you irritate me with any more of that imbecilelaughter! - What! are you at it yet? - There! see if that'll settleyou!' cried Hattersley, snatching up a footstool and hurting it atthe head of his host; but he as well as missed his aim, and thelatter still sat collapsed and quaking with feeble laughter, withtears running down his face: a deplorable spectacle indeed.
Hattersley tried cursing and swearing, but it would not do: hethen took a number of books from the table beside him, and threwthem, one by one, at the object of his wrath; but Arthur onlylaughed the more; and, finally, Hattersley rushed upon him in afrenzy and seizing him by the shoulders, gave him a violentshaking, under which he laughed and shrieked alarmingly. But I sawno more: I thought I had witnessed enough of my husband'sdegradation; and leaving Annabella and the rest to follow when theypleased, I withdrew, but not to bed. Dismissing Rachel to herrest, I walked up and down my room, in an agony of misery for whathad been done, and suspense, not knowing what might further happen,or how or when that unhappy creature would come up to bed.
At last he came, slowly and stumblingly ascending the stairs,supported by Grimsby and Hattersley, who neither of them walkedquite steadily themselves, but were both laughing and joking athim, and making noise enough for all the servants to hear. Hehimself was no longer laughing now, but sick and stupid. I willwrite no more about that.
Such disgraceful scenes (or nearly such) have been repeated morethan once. I don't say much to Arthur about it, for, if I did, itwould do more harm than good; but I let him know that I intenselydislike such exhibitions; and each time he has promised they shouldnever again be repeated. But I fear he is losing the little self-command and self-respect he once possessed: formerly, he wouldhave been ashamed to act thus - at least, before any otherwitnesses than his boon companions, or such as they. His friendHargrave, with a prudence and self-government that I envy for him,never disgraces himself by taking more than sufficient to renderhim a little 'elevated,' and is always the first to leave the tableafter Lord Lowborough, who, wiser still, perseveres in vacating thedining-room immediately after us: but never once, since Annabellaoffended him so deeply, has he entered the drawing-room before therest; always spending the interim in the library, which I take careto have lighted for his accommodation; or, on fine moonlightnights, in roaming about the grounds. But I think she regrets hermisconduct, for she has never repeated it since, and of late shehas comported herself with wonderful propriety towards him,treating him with more uniform kindness and consideration than everI have observed her to do before. I date the time of thisimprovement from the period when she ceased to hope and strive forArthur's admiration.