A Question of Degree

Front matter

[All Rights Reserved. _ BY CAROLINE FOTHERGILL AUTHOR OF "THE COMEDY OF CECILIA*' LONDON ADAM AND CHARLES BLACK CONTENTS CHAP. PAGE I. MRS. WOODFORD MAINTAINS HER DIGNITY . 7 II. OLIVER AND THEODORA TALK OF THE AFFECTIONS 1 8 III. THEODORA GOES NORTH . . . .27 IV. BALDWIN DINES AT WINDSCARTH . . -35 V. THE MISS FLEMINGS CALL . . . .46 VI. THEODORA TAKES A FURNISHED HOUSE . . 59 VII. THEODORA — MISS MARKENFIELD . . -71 VIII. CATHERINE PROVES HERSELF EXCELLENT COM PANY ....... 84 IX. MRS. BALDWIN'S GARDEN PARTY . . -93 X. PARENTS AND CHILDREN . . . . I07 XI. OLIVER COMES TO SEE THEODORA . . .120 XII. BALDWIN'S OPPORTUNITY .... 140 XIII. DAVID THINKS THEODORA FANCIFUL . . 153 XIV. IN DAVID'S ABSENCE . . . . 162 XV. THE CONCLUSION OF THE WHOLE MATTER .

Chapter I Mrs

WOODFORD MAINTAINS HER DIGNITY When Theodora Markenfield came of age, she took possession of her revenues, and decided to go down into Yorkshire to pay a long visit to her stepfather. Her aunt, with whom she had been living since her mother's death, did all she could to dissuade her from it, expressing with the utmost candour her dis like of everything appertaining to her brother in - law, and her annoyance that Theodora should choose this particular way in which to assert her newly acquired legal right to do exactly as she pleased. " Mark my words, Theodora ! " she said ; "you will bitterly repent having had anything to do with that man." " I know you dislike him," said her niece. " It is not a question of like or dislike, it is what I know of him. The Stansfields are all a bad lot." "There are many worse, and why should I not know bad people as well as good?

It is very dull knowing only one kind of people." " In six months you will be back here, a sadder and a wiser woman." " Surely, under any circumstances, wisdom is a great gain, and you see I shall not be leaving you for long. Six months will soon pass." " I shall miss you horribly, as you know perfectly well, and I scarcely dare to think of what Oliver will say. It is no secret that he adores you." " I shall miss you quite as much, if not more than you will miss me. As for Oliver, I do not find it amusing to be the object of his adoration ; in fact, it is rather a bore, and, to be quite frank, I very much deplore it. I have never been able to understand why he should have chosen me from among all the other women he knows to be the victim of his feelings. Considering how intimate we are, almost living under the same roof, I think it is taking the most unfair advantage of his position.

If I were not scrupulous about hurting your feelings, I should say it was ill-bred." " You are ridiculous." " And, what is more, I can't believe you are serious in wishing him to marry. I have always understood that women with only sons are prepared to encourage the passing of laws which shall forbid them to marry." "It is abominable of you to laugh at me, and only shows that you are quite wanting in good feeling. Besides that, Oliver is not my son, though of course he is like a son to me. His father was my husband's brother." "You have brought him up from the time he was a baby : it is the same thing. He has never had any other mother, and he is your most precious possession, whom I have heard you call 'sweetie' and 'pet.' You will not convince me you really wish for his marriage." " I wish whatever is for his happiness, of course ; and that seems to lie in his marriage with you."

" But you see two people are necessary for a marriage," said Theodora, in a tone of doubtful meaning. "As if any girl could fail to be happy with Oliver ! " was the prompt retort, and to this Theodora made no reply. " I don't understand," went on the elder lady, " how you can have any friendly feeling towards the man who broke your mother's heart by his infamous treatment of her." " I can remember how they used to live together ; it is only five years ago — I was sixteen. And, for the matter of that, mamma nearly broke my heart over and over again. When I was a child, she used to make me cry horribly." "Perhaps she was not very judicious, but, at anyrate, you have not died of it." " No ; Will used to mend it again with presents and kindness. All the happiness I can remember, as a child, came from him."

" Presents which he used to buy with your mother's money ; and you may depend upon it, my dear, that any kindness you may have from him now, will have to be paid for by you in some shape or form. Do you suppose that, when he sent you this invitation, he had forgotten that you are a rich woman, with complete control over your own fortune ? " " My riches have nothing in the world to do with it. I remember that when mamma died, and you came down to Windscarth and decided to bring me away, I did not want to come. I would rather have stayed with Will, and he wanted to keep me. I said I should go back as soon as I could do what I pleased ; and now the time has come, and I am going-." ' ' I thought five years with me would have made you forget that dreary place ; your mother always hated it." " I don't easily forget." n "You seem to forget what your mother suffered there."

" Mamma had a suffering nature ; and I read somewhere the other day that this is an age which teaches us the merit of laughing where our mothers wept ; so perhaps I shall get on better with Will than she did." " Will!" echoed Mrs. Woodford ; "the mere fact that you always call your stepfather by his Christian name stamps the man at once." "It stamps us both. I have always done it, and I don't see that it concerns anyone but ourselves." " You will be buried alive. There can be no society in such a place, even if there are people." " There will be somebody. I remember callers used to come, and Will had friends — squires and people in the neighbourhood." "His friends and yours are scarcely likely to be the same." " On the contrary, that is just what must be. With so few people to know, and only two of us at Windscarth, we can't each have a separate set."

" You may not have the chance ; and, at any rate, that in itself places you at a disadvantage." "No," said Theodora, smiling; "it is so much on my side." " I really don't understand you ; to me you are simply inexplicable." " Poor auntie ! After all, you will find it a relief to get rid of me." " I will never believe that with your love of society, you will be happy in a place where there will be absolutely no one you will care to speak to." " You know I am fond of variety, and never regret experience of any kind." "Very varied your experience has been! You have been indulged ever since you came here, and your experience has been three seasons of success and adulation." " But I am in search of variety." " I hope you may find it," said Mrs. Wood ford in exasperation, " it might do you good.

If I said what you deserve, it would be that you must abide by your choice, however it may turn out ; but you know that when your preposterous experiment has failed, you will always be welcome here, where I have done all I could to make you happy, and where I hoped you would be content to stay until you married ; and now it all seems thrown away. I must say what I think, that you are very ungrateful." She wiped her eyes, feeling very much upset, and Theodora said, in a rather more serious tone than she had been speaking in — " My dear aunt, you are very unreason able and naughty. You know I am always glad to be with you. I have never been anything but happy here ; it is my home, and we have always got on together admirably. I don't remember a single quarrel, though we may have differed, and that is a most unusual state of things between women.

I am going to Windscarth because I used to be very fond of it, and I want to see it again. Will wants to have me, and he used to be so kind, I could not refuse to go even if I did not want to. I have no intention of trying to reform my stepfather ; heaven forbid that I should be such a prig ! But I don't see why I should abandon him altogether : he is getting old, and is in poor health ; if I don't see him now, perhaps I never shall. You can shut your doors upon me if you like — I don't dispute your right ; but I really don't see why there need be any sore feeling about it, and I hope you will give up the idea that I am going out of pure perversity, and on purpose to annoy you." " Of course it ends in you getting your own way — all our discussions do. I am only an old woman, and you know your own affairs very much better than I do.

If you will go, you must, and you know that whenever you give me a thought and write to me, or care to pay me a visit, it will be the greatest pleasure I can have, and I suppose I must not ask for more. At the same time, you will never persuade me that Will Stansfield's house is a suitable place for any young girl to go and stay in by herself. The man is a gambler by nature, and no woman can possibly be happy under his roof. If you would only be guided by me, and give it up ! " " You know we agreed, only the other day, that I have an absolute incapacity for being guided by anyone but myself." " Yes, I am afraid it is so; but I don't con sider it is a thing to boast of." " I don't think I have done badly, on the whole. If I had been guided by anyone else, I should have married Lord Culcheth two years ago, and been in the position of the present Lady Culcheth now.

Very likely you have forgotten how strongly you urged that upon me." " It seemed then as if it would be a brilliant match ; besides, you never would have been in such a position. Culcheth really loved you, and he only asked Edith Lascelles because you refused him ; and she, on her side, would not have married him if Edward Staunton had not thrown her over : so that it was a mistake all round." " It appears so," replied Theodora gravely. " Happily I have not yet been reduced to marrying a peer because a commoner has rejected me." "Oliver had not come home then, either," went on Mrs. Woodford ingenuously. "When you say that, you give yourself away, because if I had married Lord Culcheth, Oliver would have been spared this adoration which you tell me is a serious hindrance to him in his profession."

" I never pretended to be your equal in argument, but there are many things which we feel to be wrong, though perhaps we are not all clever enough to demonstrate it in an argument, and logic may even seem to go against us. I am convinced I am right : and Culcheth was not your only chance ; you might have married again and again if you had chosen." " Only once, unless my husband had oblig ingly died." "The point I wish to enforce," said Mrs. Woodford, frowning to maintain her gravity, "is that you have thrown away chance after chance, for no other reason, I believe, than your own inborn perversity." "Not mine, aunt — that of the men who would ask me when they were not in the least suitable." "As things have turned out, I admit none of the marriages would probably have turned out happy ; but want of suitability is an objection you can't possibly make to Oliver."

" It is one which I consider Oliver ought to make to himself." " I am sure he is not in the least likely to do so." "We acknowledge our failures in that direction, at least every Sunday morning." " Do not be flippant as well as heartless ; those are the two faults you have to guard against." " Only two ! that is rather below the average, isn t it r "And do not be disrespectful." " I have the most profound respect for you. "Then show it in your language. I am not one of those new mothers who allow themselves to be browbeaten by their children. I trust I shall always maintain the dignity of my position." " I trust you will. I always feel sorry for girls whose mothers have no dignity. If you ever want my help, it will be unreservedly at your service. I am not one of those new young women who are always disgustingly rude to anyone older than themselves.

I have not forgotten that I shall be old some day too." "You are a ridiculous and lovable child. And now," rising, " I must go and write that letter." " Cannot I do it for you ? " " Not this, thank you ; and you have to write to — Will." " Yes. I suppose you called him so, when you had anything to do with him." " I suppose so. By the way, Oliver is coming with us to the opera. I simply don't know what he will say to this." The corner of Theodora's lip flickered almost imperceptibly, and that was all the answer she made.

Chapter II Oliver And Theodora Talk Of The Affections

Later in the evening, Theodora sat ready for the opera, and waiting for Mrs. Woodford. She had taken up the Fortnightly to pass the time, and being interested in an article by Mallock, she did not look up when a man came into the room. "Good-evening, Theodora," he said, as she took no notice of him. " Good - evening, Oliver," she answered, without ceasing to read. He said nothing more for a little while, but stood leaning against the chimney - piece, looking gravely before him. He was a tallish man, with a keen and vigorous face and an expression which might have been stern but for the saving presence of humour. He looked at Theodora every now and again, and watched her reading, without making any attempt to interrupt her ; rather as if he were glad of the opportunity and intended to ■9 take full advantage of it, though perhaps he was a little discouraged that she seemed not to know he was there.

As she gave no sign of being tired of reading, he said at last — "Would you mind putting that away, Theodora ? I want to talk a little before my aunt joins us." Without making any answer, she let the magazine fall into her lap, " My aunt sent a note across to my chambers this afternoon, telling me you are going to leave us." " I suppose," with a sparkle of amusement in her eyes, "that was the letter she would not allow me to write for her." "The whole scheme has upset her very much." " I am afraid so, and I am sorry, but I have quite made up my mind." " She asked me to use my influence to dissuade you." " I expected she would ; but we have been talking about it nearly all afternoon, and I am tired." " I am not going to say much. You have just become your own mistress, and I have every intention of respecting your position ; but are you sure you have fully weighed the matter ?

Do you think you are acting wisely in going to stay with this man ? " " Poor Will ! " she said, with a half laugh ; " he is the most harmless and innocent creature that ever lived — almost childish in his guilelessness ; it is perfectly ridiculous to hear the tone in which you and aunt speak of him. He is a gambler, I know, but there are extenuating circumstances. I have not weighed the matter at all. I am going because I want to go. I know my stepfather, and I am not in the least afraid of him, or his companions, or surroundings, or anything else. I am far more likely to influence him than he is to influence me." " You were only a child when you left him ; you could not understand half of what you saw." " I shall be all the safer for understanding it now." " Your aunt will miss you very much, and I, of course, far more."

"She is kind enough to say so. As for you, I am afraid I did not take you into consideration when I made my plans." "That is evident from the plans you have made, and I am not going to try to persuade you to change them. I think, on the whole, the change may be for good in many ways. I will talk to your aunt and try to get her to look at it from another point of view. I was rather against it at first, but when I had thought it over, I saw it was a good move." He crossed the room as he spoke, and sat down beside her on the couch. "It is a relief," she said, " to hear you speak rationally about it ; but I am curious to know why you think it is a good move." " I think it will give me a better chance." "You are absurd," she answered good humouredly; " and you are crushing my dress." " By all means go to Yorkshire if you wish — it is just the time of year ; but promise, before you go, that you will come back in three months and marry me."

"Certainly not. You have spoken about this before, Oliver, and I have told you that I am not inclined for it." "You could become inclined for it if you chose ; you have set yourself against it." "If anyone has set me against it," she said, "it is you. We have had all this over more than once already, and I simply will not listen to it again." "If you will promise to marry me, I will not bore you in the meantime. I will not even grumble if you don't write often." "You are too generous, and I assure you you pay me no compliment in being so unassertive." " You are difficult to please ; you told me the last time that I was too masterful. How ever, I apologise for having offered to let you off writing, especially as, when it came to the point, I feel certain I could not keep it up. But, all the same, I feel persuaded that what ever you may do in the meantime, I am the man you will marry in the end."

" Let us keep to the present, it is more practical," she said, leaning back in the corner of the couch and looking at him, as he sat nursing his knee at the other end of it, rather as if he were a clever actor playing an entertaining part. "We are exactly suited to one another," he went on ; " you don't see it now, and I have been too confident in expecting you would, we have been together too much, and I have probably been too unassertive. When you are in Yorkshire, and we are no longer meeting every day, your point of view will change, and though you may go farther away at first, in the end you will come back to me." " Not back," she objected ; " I have never been there yet." "You will come to me, if you prefer that way of putting it." " I rather admire the way you have of speaking as if a thing must be! there is something almost touching in such faith.

You have great confidence in yourself." " I have perfect confidence in myself — and you." " Perhaps you will not be uneasy while I am away." "It would not be wise to tell you that." " It is clear you think my affections are of slow growth, and thrive best when left to themselves. If you were curious about such things, I might point out that my friends have often questioned if I am capable of any at all." " Very sagacious our friends always are in such things. My dear Theodora " — he stopped for a minute and then went on. " My dear Theodora," he repeated, "do you think for one minute that you can take me in with any such pretence as that? If you were to ask me to tell you your character " — " But I don't," she interposed, of which interruption he took no notice, but went on. " I should say, without any fear of being contradicted by facts, that your nature is unusually affectionate.

It seems to amuse you just now to take nothing seriously, and it is certainly very refreshing to come to you when one's day's work is done ; but you only do it because, so far, nothing has touched you deeply, or looked at you seriously. When the time comes, you will give all that up of your own accord." " I hope not. It is much pleasanter to take things easily ; and, to tell you the truth, I have always been glad that I am not one of your serious people." " Of course you are delightful as you are, and at present I can be serious for both." "I am sorry you said that ; it sounds a little priggish, and it would be a great argument against you if it were true. I hope that, like some other people, you are better than your word." " If it is not affection for that old reprobate, your stepfather, that is taking you down to Yorkshire, what is it, I should like to know ?

" "Curiosity more than anything else." "You are going because you are fond of him ; I have always heard you speak of him with misplaced affection." " You are quite wrong : affection has very little to do with it. I am tired of London, it has been a dull season, and I don't want to go to any of the usual places. I should like to see Capplethwaite again ; I used to think it very beautiful. Of course I want to see Will too, and to hear what he has been doing since I left him." " All the world knows what he has been doing ; he has taken no pains to hide his light under a bushel." " You prove nothing but your own ill-nature in saying that. Here is Dawson with the carriage. Where is aunt ? She is generally ready in good time." She gathered her gloves and fan together, and rose from her seat. When she stood up, she was not very much below him in height, and the plain richness of her dress suited her figure and carriage perfectly, though shorter and less well-built girls said she was too slight for it.

There was something a little com manding in her bearing, which was at least partially modified by the gracious expression of her features. It was plain at a glance, to the dullest intelligence, that she was accustomed to much deference and service from those with whom she came in contact. Clearly she had never yet met anyone who had influenced her strongly; and from the good-humoured, careless, almost unconscious way in which she, so to speak, brushed Oliver on one side, one would not have thought he was the man to have that influence. He did not try to say anything more just then — perhaps he had nothing more to say. The footman was in the room, Mrs. Woodford was heard speaking to her maid as she came downstairs ; and when she joined them, she broke into elaborate apologies and explana tions of why she was late, which Theodora accepted as if she believed them, not betraying that she either saw or understood the glance which passed between her aunt and Oliver.

She was in good spirits all through the evening, and seemed to thoroughly enjoy both the opera and the friends who came to their box. Her manner with Oliver was exactly what it had always been, and as he also was quite his usual self, Mrs. Woodford could not decide what he had said to her, or if he had said anything at all. It was a great dis appointment to her when she heard Theodora say, in answer to a question from someone, that she was going north almost immediately, and would not be in town again that year.

Chapter III Theodora Goes North

She was glad to see her stepfather standing on the platform of the station, where she had to change into a slow train for the last ten miles of her journey. It was just like him. As he had not driven, she knew he must have had to wait at least an hour and a half for her, and the look of pleasure which came into his face when he caught sight of her hand waving from the window, gave him just the expression she remembered. She felt more pleased than she had done for a long time. " Here you are at last," he said, as their train moved deliberately out of the station in the wake of the express. " My dear child, I can't tell you how I have looked forward to this. I could scarcely believe it would really happen, and I was quite prepared to find you were not in the train. I thought you might change your mind at the last minute."

"That is not my way; you should have known me better." " I got nervous and anxious. I am not what I was when you went away." She had already taken that in. He looked far more than five years older, and his appearance was shabby and careless as she did not recollect it. There was a shakiness and want of decision about everything he said and did, which to Theodora, whose feeling for him had always been more of affection than criticism (in spite of what she had said to Oliver), was rather pitiful. " It is very kind of you to come," he went on, "and I am afraid you'll find Windscarth a sad place. I have done what I could to make it fit for you, but it is always gloomy ; still, if you can put up with it for even a little while, my love, you will be doing me a kindness I shall never forget." " I have come for a long time, and I am looking forward immensely to seeing Windscarth again.

Has it still that old god forgotten look ? " "If you are in search of god - forgotten looks, you've come to the right place. I only hope it won't frighten you away." "lam not easily frightened. Surely this is Capplethwaite we are stopping at now ? " "You don't feel it cold, I hope? there's always such a wind up here," he asked, as they drove away. "It is delicious ; the air is like champao-ne. THEODORA GOES NORTH 29 My complexion will become like a rose before I have been here a week." He pressed her hand, too much touched at the way she accepted him and his poor broken down circumstances, to speak ; nor did they say much more as they drove to Windscarth. Theodora's recollections of the place were returning vividly ; she felt as if she were looking at things from which a thin veil lifted a little with every step she took ; and when at last the grey weather-beaten old house, with its battlemented roof and tragic evidences of bygone splendour, came into sight, she could not hide her pleasure at the extent to which the whole scene appealed to the sense of art in her nature.

"Well," said Will anxiously, "you are not frightened, I hope ? " " I see nothing to frighten me. How purple the moors are getting ! the heather is early this year ; and that stream, I can see by its colour and rush what rain you have had lately." "It has rained in torrents for a week. I was ill, and I thought I should go mad." " It will be different now you are not alone," throwing off the thin rug they had spread over their knees, though it was summer, and pre paring to get out. " Well, this is like old times," he said, a great deal more cheerfully, as they sat after dinner in the large drawing-room, which had always been one of Theodora's favourites, and whose enormous grate contained a fire, lighted on her account, it being supposed she might feel chilly coming from the south. Immense fires had been burning in her bed room, and one or two others to which, from Will's recollection, she might take a fancy, for the last week ; ever since he had had her letter accepting his invitation to come and stay at Windscarth for as long as she liked.