See-Saw; a novel ... Edited [or rather, written] by W. W. Reade

Chapter I

The next morning as Miss Atkins was surveying her drawing-room restored to its pristine primness, and neatly shrouded in brown holland, the butler brought her a letter. It was from her brother, who informed her he had just espoused Miss Maddalena Restoni. The marriage had been solemnised at the parish registry office, and at^the Catholic chapel in Farm Street. They were en route for the Continent, whence they would return in about a month's time. He also informed her that he had disposed of his business, and definitively retired from the City. He had given his agent full instructions with respect to the letting of the _ house VOL. II. B SEE-SAW. in Bedford Square, and the preparation of Vachell Court, which would be his residence for the future. The letter ended by politely inviting h er to precede them to Vachell, and to look upon it as her home.

In case of her doing so, the agent had been apprised that the forming of the establishment would be left entirely in her hands. But if she felt that she would not live happily with the object of his choice, he was willing to grant her any assist ance which she might require in addition to her own income. These news fell upon her like a cold douche. She had for some time been aware that Richard had been intimate with Restoni the singer. She had been annoyed to hear of a new liaison, but taking it for granted that such people are never respectable, she had been only uneasy about the money which her brother might be squandering upon her. One would imagine that a pious Protestant, so assiduous in devotional exercise, would have been glad that he had married the (supposed) partner of his guilt.

But, alas ! it is not only the fashionable and worldly who prefer that their relatives should indulge in moderate vice under the sanction of society, than that SEE-SAW. 3 they should perpetuate an enormous folly, under that of religion and respectability. The middle classes are quite as sensible in this respect as other people. There is scarcely a small shopkeeper, Anglican, Wesleyan, Independent, or Baptist, who would not feel more outraged if his son married a maid servant than if he ruined her, and left her to starve in the streets. Upon this point all the religious sects in England, numerous as they are, would be agreed, and it is one of those command ments, which they bear engraved upon their hearts, harder than Moses' tablets of stone : " Thou shalt not marry with one who is poor and beneath thee in station, nor with one who hath an ill name, lest men laugh thee to scorn, and in this life thou prospereth not."

Miss Atkins of course laid most of the blame upon Maddalena. " The nasty scheming thing !" she exclaimed between her sobs, "the vulgar, foreign hussy ! the low creature, coming here with her shop in her throat to ensnare poor Richard, who believes everything that a woman tells him." Her first impulse was to reply to her brother that she would accept neither the home nor the money B SEE-SAW. which he offered. But the reflection that such a step would be precisely what that odious woman must desire most, made her change her mind. She resolved to go to Vachell at once, secure the keys, and endeavour to retain them as long as she could. The idea of leading an opposition (that one con solation of a fallen minister) cheered her for a little time. But she soon relapsed into despondency. She had hoped to have married her brother with some young person in her own set, who respected her as a woman, who venerated her as a saint, and over whom she might have ruled with the double authority of an elder sister and a priest.

She read the letter over again. It was a masterly produc tion, as all Atkins' business letters were. He wanted some one to supervise his agent, to whom he had given such large powers, and he knew no one upon whom he could depend as he could upon his sister. She, on the other hand, was delighted when she found on re-perusing the letter that she was to form an establishment. Her mortification was half effaced by this bribe which Atkins had ap pended to the bitter news. She felt the enthu siasm of one who is appointed governor to a SEE-SAW. 5 maiden colony ; she called on the agent that afternoon, and went down to Vachell the next day. Vachell Court was an old-fashioned countryhouse, cumbrously but comfortably built, with a tiled roof, narrow massive windows, double-doors to all the principal rooms, extensive stables and back-offices ; a park and some acres of shrubberies, paddock, and kitchen-garden.

It possessed none of the novelties of modern refinement, neither conservatory, vinery, hot-house, nor landscape-garden. Everything was old, and in a state of partial decay. The furniture, once costly, was now mouldering. The stained spaces left on removal of family portraits (which alone the Vachells had not sold) had never been filled up. The house had been let to a family of males and one sporting girl, who had taken it for the sake of the shooting (it was an estate of three thousand acres, with some good covers), and on account of its position in the centre of a hunting county. Miss Atkins spent the first day rambling about the house and grounds, like a book-worm in a precious library, too excited to examine anything closely, but drinking in general impressions. The SEE-SAW. next week she spent from morning till night, scrutinising, classifying, and preparing.

She attended the hiring-fairs at Oxford and Reading, and engaged maid-servants with plain faces and strong arms. She made a gigantic inventory. She dusted, scoured, scrubbed, and swept everything. She condemned half a library, but, a much better housekeeper than Don Quixote's, instead of burning the dangerous books, she sent them to London to be sold. She disposed of some coloured nudities in a similar way. On the other hand she found that there was very little to buy. By dint of patching and repairing, the furniture could do very well. Out of doors she altered little, except to turn some flower-plots into cabbage-beds. She employed her odd moments in writing to Richard letters full of these domestic details, occa sionally spiced with a reproach. When the month had elapsed she received a letter from him.

He was to arrive the next day. At four o'clock in the afternoon she was walking up and down in the grand and sombre drawing-room, restless but reso lute, like a general who awaits the first sight of the enemy's columns. She took up a work of devotion and SEE-SAW. began to read, but as she turned over each page she glanced out of the window, which gave her a view beyond the grounds of some ploughed fields, bisected by a white streak of turnpike-road. A black speck appeared thereon ; she thrust a text-embroidered marker into the book and walked to the window. The speck expanded into a carriage-and-pair, which entered the gate by the ruined lodge, was lost sight of among the green trees, and thence emerging came up to the front door with a dash. " So you are come back at last, Richard," said Miss Atkins, as her brother alighted.

" What extra vagance, to come with a two-horse fly, and only four miles from the station." William replied to this effusive welcome by help ing Maddalena out of the fly and introducing her to his sister. She took the girl's hand in hers and looked piercingly into her face. On the whole she felt relieved. She had expected to see an extremely handsome woman with painted cheeks, a theatrical demeanour, and in a semi-stage costume like an undress uniform. She could hardly believe that this was the famous Restoni who stood before her in a faded bonnet and [ plain travelling dress, her eyes SEE-SAW. drooped, and her arms hanging listlessly by her side- Her maid was a sober, respectable-looking English woman of about thirty years of age. " Where is the rest of your luggage, my dear ?" said Miss Atkins, looking at the two feminine trunks which were strapped down on the roof of the fly.

"That is all that I have — the black one," said Maddalena. "The other is Mary's." Miss Atkins opened her eyes. " Come in, Maddalena," said Atkins kindly, and held out his hand. She took it with the tips of her fingers. When she felt the cold stones of the hall beneath her, and breathed the musty air of that old house, a shudder passed over her. "May I conduct you to your room?" said Miss Atkins ? Maddalena bowed and followed her. In a few moments Miss Atkins returned. " Your wife is going to lie down for a little while," she said. Then she started. " Good God, Richard, how ill you look. Your eyes are like glass. Have you had any " " Once." " Does she know it ?" SEE-SAW. 9 " No : 1 was away from her at the time." " Very well ; then she must not. Now I want you to come with me, and see what I have done."

" But Maddalena " She is lying down, I tell you, and does not want to be disturbed. She almost ordered me out of the room." " Now, I tell you what it is, Jane," said Atkins savagely, " I won't have any of this." " Gracious me ! Any of what ?" " Why, you have begun already.' "Begun what, sir ? What are you talking of?' " Just understand this, Jane, and I tell you once for all. Maddalena is my wife, and she is the mistress of my house. If you intend to be rude to her and plague me, you had better leave it." " I shall not wait twice to be asked to leave your house, Richard," said Jane in a humble voice. " I am sure that I should never have thought of coming, only you asked me so kindly, and I saw I might be of use to you. Now I will go and pack up my things at once." " Who wants you to pack up your things ?" growled Atkins.

" Don't be such a fool, Jane." SEE-SAW. " I hope that you wfll find the servants suit you, Richard. I took great pains to get good ones." " My dear Jane " I fear that I have spent a great deal of money on the papering, and the fuf — fuf — furniture, Rich ard. But I did all for the best, I am sure. I did not wish her to be discontented directly she came." Atkins expostulated, but Jane was quite determined to go. " After all," said she, " it was foolish in me to come. I have managed your house for you now so many, many years. I shall be much happier away." " But Maddalena will not want to manage the house," he replied. " I am sure that she will be very glad if you will take it off her hands. She has had no experience in this sort of thing, and I don't think she has any taste for it either. Indeed, if you like, I will speak to her about it myself."

So Jane consented to remain, having thus secured an ally on her side in the combat which she sup posed would soon ensue. But three days passed, and Maddalena showed no desire to reign. She answered politely when she was addressed * but was cold, taciturn, and absent, and SEE-SAW. seemed to avoidj both her husband and his sister; wandering about all day as if she was in a dream, or sitting at the window with her hands folded in her lap, and her eyes following the clouds. Miss Atkins, who judged every one by herself, could not believe that this indifference to power was real,Tand laid a trap. On the fourth day she came to her and said : — " My dear, I have taken the liberty of keeping house for you till you had recovered from the fatigue of your journey. I will now hand over the keys to their rightful mistress."

So saying, she laid in her lap a small basket containing an enormous bunch of keys. Maddalena looked at them in a stupified manner ; then raising her eyes to Miss Atkins' face, saw im mediately how she ought to act. Taking up the basket she gave it back to her, with a polite speech in the Itahan manner. Miss Atkins, though she secretly despised Maddalena for not claiming her rights, began to like her a little. She testified this tender feeling by modulations of her voice, by small attentions, proffered confidences, and gentle looks ; but Maddalena remained always the same — cold, SEE-SAW. distant, and reserved. Her sister-in-law began to respect and even to fear her a little. There was something majestic in the indifference of this young girl who stood apart from them both, enveloped in her own thoughts as in a cloud.

But soon an inci dent occurred which produced a change in her feel ings and behaviour towards the family. The household was conducted on principles of stern frugality. One day when the dinner was even plainer than usual, Miss Atkins offered an apology, which had the advantage of costing nothing. "You must find this very humble fare," she said, " after what you have been accustomed to." "No, madam," said Maddalena, "till within the last two years I had been accustomed for a long time to live like a peasant, upon fruit and polenta, which is made of Indian corn." " You must have suffered great privations after your father sold his estate," said Atkins. This word " estate " surprised Maddalena. But she supposed that it meant the same as " business," and replied : — " But even before my father's misfortune, we did not live so very sumptuously.

To be sure, as we kept a boarding-house " SEE-SAW. Atkins supposed that she was alluding to another period of her reverses. " But the gentry and nobi lity?" he asked. " Ah ! that is another thing," she said, " If they are bachelors they usually dine at the restaurant. And if they have families and live at home — but I do not know exactly how they live : I have not been in their society." " But before your father sold his estate- " An estate, sir ! what is that ? Do you call a boarding-house an estate ?" " No ; this is an estate : a country house and lands. Your father had one and sold it, did he not?" said Atkins, rising from his chair in a state of perturbation. " Who told you that, sir ?" " He did." She turned pale. " Then it is not true," she said firmly " Why should he have wished to deceive you ?

" she added, in a musing tone. " He had very good reasons," said Atkins, pacing up and down the room, his features contracting in a curious manner. SEE-SAW. His sister looked at him as if inquiringly, and also rose. When their eyes met he shook his head, and said, "No; it is nothing." Maddalena remembered this afterwards, though, absorbed in her own thoughts, it made no impression upon her at the time. A few moments afterwards he sat down again to dinner and said, " You have not seen your father since we have been back. Would you like to ? " " Yes, sir ; and that reminds me I had a letter from him yesterday, asking me if he could come down." " Good. Write to him and tell him to come imme diately. No ; stop. This is Tuesday. Invite him to come on Saturday." On Saturday Restoni made his appearance.

He embraced his daughter (before the family) with effusion. Immediately recognising Miss Atkins' hostility, and power in her look and tone, he did his utmost to make himself agreeable to her. After dinner Maddalena put on her hat and cloak, and took him out of doors, under the pretence of show ing the grounds. They walked together beneath SEE-SAW. 15 the majestic elms of the park, and along broad walks between ragged shrubberies. " It is a splendid place," exclaimed Restoni ; "but what money will have to be laid out on it ! " " I do not think Mr. Atkins intends to lay out much." " Have you asked him to ? " " No ; I have not asked him for anything; " All the better. You will have the more power for the future." Maddalena did not reply. He walked beside her for a little while, plucking leaves and chewing them.

Then he stopped. His face assumed an expression of mingled irony, cunning, and anxiety. " This is a fine country seat," he said ; " but it is not superior to the noble villa which we possessed in Tuscany." Maddalena did not answer him. " If you recollect, it was built in the Palladian style, with a grand cortile, marble stairs, superb columns. We also had an estate of vineyards, olive orchards, and corn-fields, without mentioning a pine forest and a mountain." " Yes," said Maddalena coldly. SEE-SAW. Restoni continued, his eyes flickering upon her face as he spoke, — " But we were afflicted by a long series of misfor tunes. Harvests failed, fattori embezzled. We were reduced to a state of ennobled poverty. Finally you burned to become a singer. Your father sacri ficed everything for you — everything.

He sold his estate. He spent it upon masters. He left himself nothing." Maddalena looked at him sternly. " Well ? " said she. "When he consented that his daughter should abandon a profession in which she was amassing a fortune, he represented these circumstances to her bridegroom, who gave him a sum of money to purchase back his lands." Maddalena looked at him more kindly. " And you bought an estate in Tuscany ? " she asked. " Such of course had been my intention ; but I found that the sum which the Signor Atkins had reluctantly paid was too small for such a purpose. So I endeavoured to increase it by speculations, and I regret to say that it has " SEE-SAW. "What ! " cried Maddalena. " That it has dissolved." She bit her lips. He placed his hand upon her shoulder with a soothing gesture ; but she shrank away from him.

" I deserve that thou shouldst be angry with me," he said, gently. " Yet pardon me. I am so unfor tunate. I did all for the best." " You have done all for the worst," said Mad dalena bitterly. Then she turned round on him. " You want something, or you would not come here. What is it ? " " Simply this. I shall tell thy husband how I have speculated and lost. I shall ask him to renew the sum. I do not want any more. I will contrive to make it enough. Now what thou must do is this. Thou must beg him to give me the money. Thou must tell him how painful it is for thee that the estate of thy forefathers should pass into strange hands. Thou must pray him to forgive me. Thou must weep, thou must kneel to him, thou must " " Silence ! " cried Maddalena. Restoni looked at her in wonder. She stood in a VOL. II.

SEE-SAW. haughty, almost threatening attitude, before him, her eyes flashing with rage and scorn. " My husband knows everything," she said. " I have told him what we are, and from what we were." " Diavolo ! " muttered Restoni. " Why did I not forewarn her?" " Forewarn me ! You think, then, that I would have been your tool ? No, no, sir ; you have done enough. You have destroyed my happiness in this life, but you shall not destroy it in the next. You shall not make me a thief." " Calm thyself, dearest ; who wishes to make thee a thief?" " You, who are one yourself, unhappy man." " Then let us give up this tale of the estate. Let us confess everything (since everything is known). Ask him only " " I will ask him for nothing. You ordered me to marry this man, and I obeyed you. You had made me swear an oath, and I was forced to obey.

I married him, and you received the price which you had set upon my life. Now I am his — his, do you hear ? — I am branded with his name, as his sheep- SEE-SAW. 19 and cattle are ; you have sold me to him ; he has paid for me ; and I am his." " But, Maddalena, for thy father- " I have no father now." Restoni bent his head. Maddalena turned back towards the house ; he followed at her heels like a dog. He was stupified. Was this cold, severe woman the affectionate and tender girl whom he had parted from only a few weeks before ? Then she had been ductile as gold between his hands : now she was a weapon of sharp, hard steel, which he had laid hold of by the blade. He suffered that punishment which ought to fall upon all parents who make their daughters marry against their will. In Italy, and in France, it is almost a custom, and society offers its distractions to the wife.

But in domestic England it is a worse vice, for its victim suffers more. She sees herself encircled by those who have married because they loved : she is taunted by their happiness : and she is condemned to a fife of seclusion, which, with love, is a Home, but which without is a Hell. During the honeymoon of a mariage de conve nance a girl's character undergoes a great change. o SEE-SAW. She hates alike the parents who have bartered her away and the man who has purchased her with his money or his name. She becomes bitter and sullen in mind ; while her heart slowly hardens in the black frost which has withered up all the flowers of her life. Then, sooner or later, she acquires the hypocrisy of the courtesan. She learns to yield her self up with smiles, to invent false caresses, to simulate passion in her hated husband's arms.

If she has a child she may be saved. Her affections concentrate themselves into maternal love. But if not, there may come a day when her parents shall suffer from a shame of which they have been the only cause. Every woman of delicate feelings will understand that Maddalena, since her marriage, had suffered tortures which were worse to her than death. This will explain her conduct towards her husband and her sister-in-law ; and during the last two or three days she had been reflecting on her father's false hood. She had looked back into her past life, and a film had fallen from her eyes. By a flash of thought, livid, luminous, and forked, the black mind of her father had been made to her as clear as day. She saw why he had made her take the oath ; why SEE-SAW. he had gratified her desire to go upon the stage.

Though she could not divine the elaborate plot of which she had been the victim, she suspected that he had purposely brought about the quarrel with Eugenio. At all events, she saw that her lover had only spoken the truth. She had long known that her father was a drunkard. She had now discovered that he was a thief. Restoni's vices had parted her from him. This last reflection was the bitterest of all. It made her absolutely hate her father. She preceded him to the dining-room. The others were still there. They sat down at the huge oak table. Restoni stood before them, like a criminal before three judges. Atkins and his sister were both embarassed. Maddalena was pale but calm. " Jacopo Restoni," she said, " I declare that the pretext under which you obtained money from my husband was false.

I deny all previous knowledge of your base and dishonest schemes, and before these witnesses I renounce you as my father." Restoni looked at her stupidly. Miss Atkins gave a slight exclamation. Her brother nervously cleared his throat. " Mr. Restoni," he said, " you've had a large sum see-saw; of money from me. It's useless just now discussing how you got it ; but where's it gone to ? That's what I want to know." " I regret to say that I have been speculating— " In what ? " said Atkins, pricking up his ears. " On the Stock Exchange," said Restoni, vaguely. Atkins gave a dry smile. "Not much doing on 'Change in August. What could it have been in ? Let me see. What was the last smash ? Was it Russian bonds ?" "Yes ; that was it," cried Restoni, falling headlong into the trap. " Ah, those cursed bonds !

" Atkins looked at a printed list among his papers. " Ah, I see I have been mistaken. Russian bonds are at 90. Try again." Restoni saw that he was attempting to grapple with a giant. He was out of his element. He said no more. " If you wish us to help you, you had better tell the truth," said Atkins. " Yes ; do tell the truth, Mr. Restoni," said Miss Atkins. Restoni was rapidly combining the ideas, which SEE-SAW. were pouring out of his productive brain, when Atkins moved again. " Allow me to assist your memory," he said, sort ing his papers with a skilful hand. " I have letters here from London and Paris, where I find you have been speculating on a small scale. Do you remember the Rue . . . , Mr. Restoni ? " By going up to London, and making diligent inquiries, Atkins had managed in three days to lay hold of his clue, and had received one or two letters from Paris.

The rest of the documents were "quakers." Restoni supposed that the whole pile consisted of evidence against him, so he gave in at once. On receiving his money he had paid the sporting debts which excluded him from the turf, and went over to Paris. There his thirst for play brought him into contact with a gang of gentlemanly sharpers, who cleared him out. However, besides the large sums which he had lost at ecarte', he had lived in the most prodigal manner, supposing (this he did not confess) that he was enjoying the first golden egg out of a large nest. " Well, sir," said Atkins, " and what do you wish SEE-SAW. us to do for you now ? Do you consider that you have any further claims on us ? " " Yes, I do," cried Restoni. " If my daughter had remained single she would have been making money, and she would have fed and clothed me, I suppose.

Atkins turned to his wife. " Will you decide for me, Maddalena ? " I have no right to decide for you, sir, she replied haughtily; "and I must decline to do so. If you think that you ought to give him more money, give it him. If you think that you have done all that your duty requires, send him away." Restoni looked at her — such a look — and turned to go. Her lips trembled, but she did not speak. " Stop a moment, sir ; stop a moment," said Atkins hurriedly. " I wish to do what is right. Maddalena, what I have is yours. Give him just what you please." " I thank you, sir," she said, in a cold and bitter tone ; " but I cannot interfere. It is purely a matter of business. You received me from the Signor Restoni, and you gave him what he asked." " But supposing that you were still supporting SEE-SAW. 25 your father, and he had served you as he ha6 served me, what would you do ?

" "I would certainly not pander to his vices. I would, as he has said, feed and clothe him — but no more." Atkins wrote a letter. " Take this," he said, " to the address. It is my lawyer's. He will tell you when and how you will receive your money. It is a life annuity of a hundred pounds, to be paid quarterly in advance, and to be increased if Mrs. Atkins at any time desires it." Restoni bowed. The brother and sister quickly left the room. Maddalena remained, with her eyes fixed moodily upon the floor. "My daughter," said the old man in a tender voice, " thou art changed." " Yes," she said, " and you are the cause of it. You have bargained away my life — for what ? A few hours of excitement in a hell. Every moment of my existence here is an agony. And it is you to whom I owe this. But why do you stay ?

You have got what you came for ; you have your money. Go, sir, go." " And art thou unhappy ? " he murmured softly. SEE-SAW. "Poor child. Maddalena," he whispered, "wilt thou come with me and share the little that I have ? We11 shall be poor, but we shall be together." She turned her eyes full on his face. " Yes," she said with a sneer, " we shall be together, shall we not ? and we can escape to the continent from my master who has bought me, and we can go to Vienna, and I can take an engagement and gain a large salary for you to spend on your dear cards again. Oh, my beloved father, I understand what affection you have for me now. It is my voice you love — as others did ; there are none who love poor Maddalena for herself. Do not stay, then, I tell you. There is no more money for you here."