Major and Minor

Front matter

■ I ■ ■ ■ MAJOR AND MINOR BY W. E. NORRIS author of "A BACHELOR'S BLUNDER," " THIRLBV HALL," ETC. A NEW EDITION. LONDON RICHARD BENTLEY & SON, NEW BURLINGTON STREET |)ublis|}irs in ©rbinarg to fj« Pajtsfg % fyvtttn 1888 [All rights reserved.] CONTENTS. CHAPTSR PAGE I. Sir Brian . . . . i II. Major . . . . . io III. Minor . . . . -24 IV. A Provincial Cotillon . . . 34 V. At St. Michael's . . -47 VI. The Penalty of Good-Nature . . 59 VII. Sir Brian pronounces Judgment . 68 VIII. The Deed is done . . . . 78 IX. The Eloquence of Mr. Monckton . 89 X. Brian goes out to Dinner . . . 103 XI. "As you were!" . . .114 XII. Under the Cliff . . . . 122 XIII. The Reading of the Will . . 135 XIV. Gilbert considers his Position . . 146 XV. Brian refuses to be comforted . 153 XVI. Gilbert in Possession . . . 165 XVII.

Discouragement . . -177 XVIII. Monckton distinguishes himself . . 187 XIX. Miss Sparks .... 200 XX. Miss Huntley entertains . . . 210 XXI. Brian gets into Trouble . . CONTENTS. IV CHAPTIK TAUH XXII. Dubbin conquers. . ■ • 233 XXIII. Mitchell's Ally . . -241 XXIV. Out of the Depths . • ■ 254 XXV. In Park Lane . . -264 XXVI. Brian's Luck turns . • ■ -77 XXVII. Gilbert sees Breakers Ahead . 289 XXVIII. An Amicable Meeting . . • 259 XXIX. A Quiet Dinner . . ■ 3°9 XXX. Gilbert astonishes himself . . 320 XXXI. Miss Joy is Oracular . . 330 XXXII. A Little Holiday . . -341 XXXIII. Stapleford is found Impossible . 352 XXXIV. Half-regrets . . . . 363 XXXV. Miss Huntley's Tactics . . 373 XXXVI. Gilbert makes Progress . . . 3S4 XXXVII. Sir Joseph is Perturbed . . 39S XXXVIII. "The King's Veto" . . . 408 XXXIX.

The Privileges of Friendship . 418 XL. Gilbert is Quite Successful . . 426 XLI. Gilbert's Trump Card . . 438 XLII. Home-sickness . . . 449 XLIII. Mitchell puts his Oar in . . 459 XLIV. Monckton is Rather Rude . . 467 XLV. The Last Straw . . .477 XLVI. Vestigia nulla Retrorsum . . 486 XLVII. Moonlight .... 495 XLVI 1 1. Conclusion . . . I MAJOR AND MINOR

Chapter I Sir Brian

Most of us have such excellent, albeit melancholy, reasons for being beholden to members of the medical profession, that we ought to be very much ashamed of sneering at them, and calling them a pack of humbugs, as we are far too apt to do in the arrogance engendered by a fit of robust health. Nations, it is said, have the rulers that they deserve, populus vult decipi, and if (as has been asserted on high authority) bread pills are frequently administered with results of a satisfying and drastic nature, what business have we to cavil at a method of treatment which benefits the patient and does no harm to anybody else ? It is the fault of the patients — if indeed there be any question of fault in the matter — that fashionable physicians are constrained to work fashionable cures, to vary their remedies, and to discover at least one new watering-place every year.

That for cleansing purposes Jordan is equally valuable with Abana and Pharpar, and that the Yang-tse-Kiang is probably neither superior nor inferior in that respect to any of the three, is not to the point People must be sent to places which they think likely to do them good, and when they have tried half a dozen well-known localities without conspicuous change in their condition, there is obviously nothing for it but to recommend some locality which is not well known. Thus remote Alpine valleys, African deserts, and primitive English fishing villages are wont to find sudden greatness thrust upon them ; and thus, quite recently, Kingscliff, which for hundreds of years had led a peaceful, slumberous existence beneath its sheltering heights in the far west, with out ever suspecting that it possessed a climate comparable to that of the Azores, had the honour to receive as a passing visitor the celebrated Sir Guy Bartholomew, M.D. Sir Guy made a few enquiries, took a few notes, and re turned to London with the complacent mien of one who has hit upon an entirely novel prescription.

Nor was his prescription long in bearing fruit. Invalids appeared, first by twos and threes, then in larger and even larger numbers ; lodging-houses sprang up to receive them ; an imposing hotel rose upon the shores of the bay ; the railway company at last constructed the long-talked-of branch which now connects the town with the main line ; finally, that energetic contractor and builder, Mr. Buswell, of Bristol, came down, bought land, and set to work to erect villas, which were taken before their walls were dry. In short, Kingscliff, where the weather during December, January, and February, is really not worse than might be expected in a place situated in that latitude and facing west-south-west, speedily blossomed out into a favourite winter resort. That the sun actually has more power there than in other parts of England one must not venture to deny, in the face of the formidable array of decimal figures, which have been brought forward to prove it, and indeed it seems scarcely worth while to dispute about such minute differences ; but that it is amply shielded from the north and east by its overhanging red cliffs anybody can see at a glance, and the beauty of its position and of the surrounding scenery has never been called in question.

Yachtsmen, dawdling along the coast from regatta to regatta in the month of August, have long been familiar with this charming spot, and have admired it through their field-glasses ; but no yacht ever puts in there, because the anchorage is so bad, and the bay lies open to the quarter of prevailing winds. If you were running before the prevailing wind, and consequently making up channel, you would obtain your first glimpse of Kingscliff immediately after rounding Halcombe Head, which forms the western horn of the bay. It is a low, bare promontory, exposed to the stormy blasts and swept by them of all vegetation save a few stunted shrubs ; the soft red sandstone of which it is composed is continually crumbling away and falling in great blocks into the sea, which blocks have been tormented by the rush of water into fantastic crags and pinnacles ; but as the red cliffs trend inland from this point they gradually increase in height ; their slopes, down to the water's edge, become clothed with hanging wood lands, and just where the eastern curve begins stands Kingscliff, a cluster of white cottages, fronted by a white beach, whereon some half-dozen of stout fishing-smacks are hauled up high and dry.

Down the deep gully behind the village a trout stream leaps to join the sea, the silvery gleam of its miniature cascades visible here and there between the trees. To the westward of this gully, and at a considerable height above the village, there is a space of level ground occupied by Morden Court, the property of Rear-Admiral Greenwood, to whom also a good part of Kingscliff belongs, and behind the house there are more woods, topped by a stretch of heathy moor and by waving fields of wheat and barley. Morden Court is a comfortable, substantial-looking mansion, but its architectural pretensions are slight ; the eye of the observant stranger is more likely to be attracted by an ancient Tudor building which rises conspicuous on the eastern side of the bay. It is of comparatively small dimensions, but is considered by connoisseurs to be a singularly perfect specimen of its style.

This is Kingscliff Manor, where many generations of Winstowes have lived and died. The Winstowes were once a wealthy and powerful family, possessing properties of far greater size and importance than this cradle of their race, but their possessions gradually fell away from them. The last of them is now dead, and the Manor has passed to their neighbours, the Segraves of Beckton. The first thing that you open out after leaving Kings cliff Bay is Beckton itself, a noble old grey structure, erected — possibly from an Italian design — rather more than two centuries ago. Viewed from the sea, Beckton, with its length of flat fagade and its two jutting wings, is decidedly imposing. A long flight of semicircular granite steps leads up to its central entrance from a grassy bowling-green. Between this and the spectator there is a balustrade, also of granite, broken in the middle by wrought iron gates, on either side of which is a high pillar, surmounted by a ball ; from the gates a second flight of steps leads down to a second lawn, then comes a second balustrade exactly similar to the first, a third flight of steps, after which there is an end of levelling, and nature is allowed to have her own way with the land until it touches the sea.

The general effect is fine, though perhaps a little sombre, no flower garden being visible from this quarter. Kingscliff, as above described, is the Kingscliff of some years back; nowadays the fishing-boats on the beach are flanked by a regiment of bathing-machines ; the Royal Hotel and the Marine Parade have displaced the fishermen's cottages, and a goodly portion of Admiral Greenwood's property is covered with smart villas. From the yachtsmen's point of view these changes may not seem to be altogether changes for the better, but from the point of view of Admiral Greenwood, Mr. Buswell, the butcher, the baker, and the lodging-house keeper, and others too numerous to mention, they are a joy to the eye and a com fort to the heart. All these, comparing past with present times, are wont to lift up their hands with one consent and bless good Dr. Bartholomew.

Nevertheless, at the time when this story opens, there was a dissentient minority. True, this minority consisted only of one, but then he was a host in himself. Major-General Sir Brian Segrave, K.C.B., owner of Beckton, of a moiety of Kingscliff, and of much land thereunto adjacent, was, as Mr. Buswell would frequently declare, a born obstructionist. Sir Brian had been vehemently opposed to the whole scheme of Kingscliff improvements from beginning to end. He did not, he said, want to have mushroom watering-places crop ping up under his nose j pleasure-seekers were offensive to him ; brass bands were more offensive still ; Mr. Buswell was most offensive of all. There is every reason to believe that he would have quarrelled with his old friend Admiral Greenwood for aiding and abetting the enemy, had Admiral Greenwood been a man with whom it was at all possible to quarrel.

He recognised the fact that he could not prevent other people from doing as they pleased with their own, but he considered that his wishes had not been sufficiently consulted in the matter ; and as he was not only a country squire, but an ex-military man, he was naturally disposed to resent such lack of deference. One fine morning this arbitrary, irascible, but thoroughly upright and honest old gentleman was riding through Kingscliff on his way homewards from the railway station, where he had been making a fine fuss about the non arrival of some parcels which ought to have been there. He had always been against the construction of the local line, and was in the habit of declaring that everybody had been much better off when their goods had reached them by carrier. There had certainly been some irregularity of delivery in those days, but then the carrier had never professed to be regular, so that you knew where you were with him.

The railway company, on the other hand, as he had just pointed out to the station-master, guaranteed punctuality, yet were never punctual. The station-master respectfully begged pardon, but thought otherwise. He believed there was no guarantee. Every effort was made to insure prompt delivery, but at that season of the year, when the traffic was so heavy, it was next to impossible for the trains to keep their time. Sir Brian rejoined that that excuse was tantamount to an admission that the railway officials couldn't or wouldn't keep faith with the public. They all deserved penal servitude, and, for his part, he sincerely hoped that, when they had killed and maimed a few more of their fellow-creatures, they would get it. He himself was in danger of being a little unpunctual at luncheon that day, for after he had ridden some distance it occurred to him that he had spoken somewhat too harshly, and he felt bound to return and mention that his words had not been intended to apply to the station-master personally.

" I didn't mean you, Simpkins ; I meant your rascally, catchpenny employers. I don't suppose you are to blame." Simpkins having expressed himself abundantly satisfied with this explanation, Sir Brian wished him good day, and headed once more for home. Strangers turned to look at him as he rode slowly down the street, sitting square and erect upon his cob, a tall, handsome, aristocraticlooking personage, with hook nose, grey moustache twirled upwards and a pair of blue eyes which looked out condescendingly. but not unkindly, upon men and things. The tradesmen and the lounging fishermen touched their hats to him, for he was popular, in spite of his little peculiarities, and he acknowledged their salutes with a smile and an uplifted forefinger. Just as he was emerging from the town, which terminates somewhat abruptly on its eastern side, a stout, vulgar-looking individual, who wore a frock-coat, thrown open, an enormous gold watch-chain, and a tall white hat, accosted him, waddling out into the middle of the road.

" Good morning to you, Sir Brian. I was looking out for you; you're the very man I want to see." Sir Brian drew rein, threw one quick glance of intense disgust at the speaker, and then gazed vacantly over his head. " Oh, Mr. Buswell, I believe ? " said he in chilling accents (though he knew Buswell's face as well as he knew his work, and hated the one as much as the other). " What can I do for you, Mr. Buswell ? " The successful contractor was not in the least abashed. He was rich, a great deal richer than Sir Brian Segrave ; he was in a certain sense powerful ; he had a sincere admiration for himself and a contempt equally sincere for the survivors of a worn-out feudal system. " Well," he replied, with a sort of laugh, " you can do something for me, and something for yourself too at the same time, which is more to the purpose, maybe."

He produced a roll of paper from the tail-pocket of his coat and began flattening it upon his knee with his great red hand. " Now just run your eye over that, Sir Brian," said he; "it's a little plan I've had drawn out of Kingscliff as it ought to be, and as it will be in due course o' time." " Thank you — no," returned Sir Brian, hastily. " I feel no curiosity to inspect these fancy sketches. The subject is one in which I am not interested, and " " Not interested ! ain't you, though ! Wait till you've seen my plan. Now just look at this. 'Ere's the new 'arbour works, promenade pier, aquarium and winter garden. Further back you come to proposed row of 'igh class dwelling-'ouses, with southerly aspect, to be called Segrave Crescent; and up on the right, where the Manor 'Ouse now stands — the finest sitiwation in the 'ole place — we think of erecting as many as twenty really elegant detached villas, with from one to three acres of land a-piece, stabling, and every modern convenience.

I look upon that property, sir, as destined to be the Belgraviar of Kingscliff." " Where the Manor House now stands ! " echoed Sir Brian, with a stare of astonishment. Then he could not resist glancing for a moment at the audacious design which was being held up before his eyes. "Why, Mr. Buswell," he exclaimed, " are you aware that the land upon which these — these fantastic arrangements figure happens to belong to me ? " " Of course I am aware that it belongs to you, Sir Brian, and I only wish it belonged to me — ha ! ha ! For the matter of that, I dessay it will belong to me some fine day ; but in the meantime " " Mr. Buswell ! " Lightning flashes shot from Sir Brian's blue eyes, his moustache twitched, his nostrils expanded, but he uttered no more than those two words, because, although to keep his temper under provocation was what he had never been able to accomplish in his life, yet by strenuous exertion of the will and clenching of the teeth he could sometimes retain control over it, and he was very sensible of the loss of dignity which must ensue from any bandying of words with this low-bred man of bricks and mortar.

Mr. Buswell stuck his hands in his pockets, laughed, and said soothingly, "There, there, Sir Brian, don't get angry about it. Overtures have been made already to you upon this subject, and they haven't been successful. You don't want to sell, and you won't sell — we all know that. You make a mistake ; but " "Kindly allow me to be the best judge of my own affairs, sir," interrupted the old gentleman in a choking voice. " Oh, no — dash it all, Sir Brian, that's asking too much ! I can't allow it, I can't really ! I allow that you're free to manage your own affairs in your own way ; but as for your being the best judge of 'em, why, common reason and common sense prove the contrary, you know. But never mind that, I ain't putting myself forward as an intending purchaser. What I want to p'int out to you is that you're the owner of land which is absolutely essential to Kings cliff, if it's ever to develop into the place it oughter be.

These 'ere slopes, back of the town, and the bit of level by the Manor 'Ouse are worth more money than all the rest of Kingscliff together in my opinion, including what's been bought of Admiral Greenwood. You see, I'm quite candid with you. Now, you take my advice, Sir Brian Segrave, and let that land out on building leases. In a very few years' time you'll find your ground-rents bringing you in quite a nice little income, and your son or your grandson will be a wealthy man." Sir Brian had by this time swallowed down a desperate inclination to use language unbecoming his age and position. " I imagine, Mr. Buswell," said he, with a laborious calmness, " that my views with regard to Kingscliff are no secret to you. I do not wish the town to become a fashionable watering-place, and if, as you say, I can check its development by declining to sell a single rood of my land for building purposes, I shall be sincerely rejoiced."

" Well, Sir Brian, your ideas are sing'lar ; but I suppose you've a right to 'em, same as I have to mine. Only I shouldn't be surprised if you was to change your mind when you come to think it over and consult your family. Take that little sketch 'ome with you ; it'll 'elp you to see things more clearly." " Thank you, Mr. Buswell, I will not deprive you of it." "Don't mention it, sir; it ain't of no value to me; I can get as many as I like of it lithographed off in no time." And Mr. Buswell thrust his plan into the other's reluctant hand. " I don't doubt but what you'll change your mind," he repeated cheerfully. At this Sir Brian's patience suddenly gave way. He tore the obnoxious paper into fragments, scattered them to the winds, and, hitting his cob smartly with the hunting crop which he carried, galloped away without another word.

" What an extryordinary old creecher ! " soliloquized Mr. Buswell aloud, as he gazed after the old gentleman's retreating form. " 'Ere's a man about as 'ard up as he can be— 'ad to pinch and scrape ever since he come into the property to keep his 'ead above water, they tell me— and now when a windfall comes in his way that 'd make many a lord or dook skip for joy, he stands with his ears laid back like an old jackass, and won't touch it ! And for no other reason on God's earth than because he is a jackass ! However, he won't live much longer, I dessay — go off in an apoplexy in one of his fits of temper, very likely — and then we shall be able to do business with his son. It's time there was an alteration made in the land laws of this country, all the same."

Chapter II. Major

Sir Brian Segrave sent his cob at a hand-gallop up the steep hill which leads out of Kingscliff in the Beckton direction, to the surprise and indignation of that placid animal, who was not accustomed to being so ridden. But when he reached the summit of the ridge whence Beckton MAJOR. 11 on the one side and Kingscliff on the other may be sur veyed he pulled up, a little more heated in body and a little less so in spirit. " What an ass I am!" he muttered, arriving at Mr. Buswell's conclusion from different premisses. "The chances are that that impudent vagabond only wanted to annoy me, and I allowed him to succeed. Let my land on building leases, indeed ! He must have known perfectly well that I am just about as likely to do that as to make him a present of it. No, Mr. Buswell, you will have to find a site elsewhere for your aquarium and your winter garden and your other gimcrack advertisements ; Kingscliff, I can assure you, will develop itself no further on this side so long as /live !

" He half turned in his saddle and flung this defiance back at his distant tormentor with a certain air of triumph ; but then he sighed and became pensive, remembering that he would not live for ever, and that he was already nearer seventy than sixty years of age. " There ought to have been an entail," he murmured ; " and yet I don't know ; perhaps it is best as it is." He had his reasons for deeming it possible that there might be some advantage in the absence of an entail — reasons with which many landed proprietors can sympathise. A man may have no wish or intention to cut off his eldest son ; yet to possess the power of so doing is not disagreeable, and adds a firm bulwark to paternal authority. Sir Brian's authority over his heir-apparent was not quite what he could have desired it to be, and as he recalled some of Mr. Buswell's remarks he felt one of those cold shivers run up his back which are apt to precede a fit of gout.

" Who knows ? " he mused. " Brian may part with the land after I am gone. I don't think Gilbert would, but Brian is an uncertain fellow. He's flighty, he's opinionated, and I do believe he's something near a Radical at heart. It would be just like him to say that he had no right to hinder the prosperity of Kingscliff, or some such non sense." Sir Brian sighed a second time, then suddenly straightened himself up, with a short exclamation of im patience, gave a shake to his reins, and cantered on. Admiral Greenwood used to say that there never lived a man more determined to do his duty than Segrave, but that unfortunately Segrave could never distinguish between his duty and his inclination. This was a little hard upon Sir Brian, who had always done what he believed to be his duty, and had by no means always felt inclined to do it ; but perhaps what Admiral Greenwood meant was that his notions of duty were thoroughly proof against outside argument or persuasion.

Somewhat late in life he had suc ceeded to Beckton, on the death of his brother, who had been a gambler and a spendthrift, and who left the property heavily encumbered. Sir Brian instantly set to work to put things straight, and found the task neither a light nor an agreeable one. He thought it his duty to keep up a large establishment, he thought it his duty to send his two sons to Eton and Oxford, and he was quite sure that it was his duty to economise. That he managed to make retrench ment compatible with these and other important items of expenditure was not a little to his credit. His method entailed considerable self-sacrifice and continual mortifica tion, for he was by nature a generous man and hated to keep a strict account of half-crowns ; yet he had adhered to it resolutely, and, by denying liimself all personal luxuries, was able now in his old age to see daylight.

He had not yet, it is true, paid off all the mortgages, still less had it been in his power to lay by anything out of income ■ but he hoped that, if he should be spared for another ten years or so, he might bequeath to his heir an estate entirely free of charges. To a man so situated the opportunity MAJOR. 13 afforded by the sudden rise of Kingscliff into notoriety ought, one would think, to have been a godsend, and it would be difficult to assign any cause for Sir Brian's refusal to profit by it, save the uncomplimentary one suggested by Mr. Buswell. His privacy would not have been invaded by the proposed extension of the town, for the quarter in question was invisible from his residence and even from his park-gates. To pull down the fine old Manor House would have been a pity, no doubt ; but in the Manor House and the few acres of land which surrounded it Sir Brian, as it happened, had only a life-interest, nor was it in the least on æsthetic grounds that he had set his face against the whole scheme.

Had he been taken in the right way at the outset, he might not improbably have acquiesced in what he now considered so objectionable ; but he had not been taken in the right way. His dignity had been ruffled, his opinion had not been asked, his protests had been smiled at ; and as he was both touchy and obstinate, it did not take him very long to persuade himself that Kingscliff as a watering-place was an abomination with which no man who had any sense of self-respect could consent to soil his fingers. The worst of it was that he was afraid his eldest son didn't agree with him The lad had never said this in so many words, but he had hinted at it, and Sir Brian hated hints. He did not hate his eldest son ; on the contrary, he had an affection for him which was deep and steady, as all his feelings were.

But then, as he often said to himself impatiently, he didn't understand him. Now, Gilbert he did understand, or thought he did. Gilbert was a sensible, practical fellow, a sound Conservative, a great favourite in society, a lover of sport, without being so given up to it as to waste his time over what ought to be only a relaxation, and an excellent judge of live-stock, besides being thoroughly well up in all branches of agriculture. Without undue disparagement of Brian, there could be no question but that Gilbert would have filled the position of Squire of Beckton more satisfactorily than his elder brother was likely to do. But Gilbert, poor fellow, had made his entry into the world a year and a half too late, so he was reading for the Bar, and might perhaps eventually make a fortune at that trade, since his talents were so great.

Other fortune, however, he would have none; nor, although he never made any complaint, was it to be supposed that the occupation of a lawyer was congenial to his tastes. Brian was an individual of a totally different stamp. He took no interest in farming, and indeed knew next to nothing about it , he did not trouble himself much to be civil to the neighbours ; his great passion was his love of music. Sometimes his father was afraid that he had got no good out of Oxford. Oxford was a terrible place for picking up fads, if a man had a leaning that way — political fads, religious fads, educational fads, and what not. There were signs that Brian had assimilated some of these ; certainly he did not appear to have assimilated anything else worth speaking of. To be sure, he was a Bachelor of Music, whatever that might imply.

Music, his father thought, was all very well in its way, but there was some thing slightly incongruous and absurd in the idea of a musical squire. Moreover, there was one respect, and rather an important one, in which Brian differed from Gilbert : he had not the faintest notion of the value of money. He could not exactly be called extravagant, but he had a habit of giving and lending whenever he was asked, also of buying whatever chanced to take his fancy, and paying for it or letting payment stand over according as he happened to have money in his pocket or not at the time. Then, when bills were sent in to his father, he would say that he was very sorry, but really he had forgotten all about them. He was always exceeding his allowance, with out having anything to show for his expenditure, whereas, MAJOR. 15 Gilbert, who had never been in debt in his life, was both better dressed and better provided with all the small neces saries and luxuries of existence than he.