Matrimony

Front matter

MATRI M O N Y BY W. E. NORRIS, AUTHOR OF " MADEMOISELLE DE MERSAC." IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. II. LONDON: SMITH, ELDER & CO., 15, WATERLOO PLACE. 1881. {All rights rcscrz'cd.) PRINTED <MD Si INS, LlMl rkl">, LON 1 CONTENTS OF VOL. II. CHAPTER PAGE I. Two Dialogues ... ... ... i II. Mr. Flemyng's Dahlias ... ... 20 III. A RACECOURSE AND A CATHEDRAL ... 48 IV. Friendly Warnings ... ... 79 V. The Days that are no more ... ... 102 VI. Mr. Gervis's Views ... ... 121 VII. Mina's Views ... ... ... 141 VIII. Perversity ... ... ... 169 IX. Port Ste. Marie ... ... ... 191 X. A Pleasant Party ... ... 220 XI. Beachborough Perplexed ... ... 250 XII. The Rue d'Amsterdam and the Boulevard Malesherbes ... ... 273 XIII. Private Criticism ... ... ... MATRIMONY.

Chapter I. Two Dialogues

If, in the course of the interview just described, Claud and Miss Flemymg had turned their eyes towards the hill-top behind them, instead of alternately studying one another's faces and the ground, they would have seen, standing out in bold relief against the sky, two dark figures, whose relative attitudes corresponded exactly to their own. For the lawns and shrubberies that encircle Southlands abound in winding walks ; and although, when young men and maidens saunter out by twos in the gloaming, all paths are likely, figuratively speak ing, to lead towards the same point, it is well for the comfort of those concerned that they need not invariably do so in a literal sense. vol. II. B MATRIMONY. It was probably a firm conviction of this truth that caused Freddy Croft to set his face in a northerly direction, on perceiving whither the couple which had got the start of him was bound.

It was repugnant to his feelings to climb a steep hill immediately after dinner ; but of two evils this was so plainly the less that he accepted it cheerfully, saying — " Do you mind which way7 we go, Miss Gervis ? If it is quite the same thing to you, I should like to try and get a whiff of fresh air up there behind the house. It is rather stifling down below, don't y7ou think ? " Genevieve signified that it was quite the same thing to her ; and accordingly they7 toiled up a series of irregular zigzags, wasting little breath in speech, until they7 reached the boundary7 of the pleasure-grounds, bey7ond which stretched broad fields of wheat and oats and barley7 that swayed and rustled, as the light wind from the moors swept over them. Here Genevieve paused, and resting her arms upon the paling, fell into much the same posture as that in which Miss Flemyng was standing, some hundred feet below ; while Freddy, whose native graces were hardly equal to Claud's, perched himself upon the barrier and whistled softly, swinging his legs to and fro.

" Rather a bore my getting swamped this afternoon," he began presently, by way of start ing the conversation. " I can't think how I managed to do such an idiotic thing. Didn't you all laugh when you saw me floundering about in the water ? " " I did not hear any one laugh," answered Genevieve. " I thought you were going to be drowned." " No fear. I didn't care a farthing about losing the race — though I do wish that butter and-eggs chap hadn't won it — but it was rather hard lines to be done out of my drive home with you." Genevieve did not respond. She seemed to be a little out of spirits ; and Freddy, watching her, as she abstractedly pulled tufts of moss and lichen from the bar of the wooden fence on which she was leaning, had his doubts as to whether she was listening to him at all. " You must have taken it easy up the hill," he resumed.

" I had time to change all my clothes, and to walk down nearly as far as the lodge to meet you, before you appeared." " Had you ? " " Yes ; but it wasn't much good, after all, was it ? As soon as I saw you had got another passenger on board I retired gracefully among the trees. You didn't see me, did you ? " MATRIMONY. 4 " No," answered Genevieve. " I am sorry you had the walk for nothing." " Ah, so was I sorry ; but I wasn't surprised. Luck always goes in runs, and this doesn't seem to have been my day, somehow. Where did you pick up Mister Rags ? " " Please don't say disagreeable things about him," pleaded Genevieve. " I can't bear to hear people sneered at because they are poor and shabby ; and it is not like you to notice such things. How many of the best men that ever lived have often been in want of money !

" " I beg your pardon," said Freddy humbly. " I had not the least intention of saying any thing offensive about him, and I dare say he is a — a very good fellow, when you come to know him. Of course, any friend of yours " "He is not my friend. I never saw him before to-day : and I am not sure that I like him particularly7. Only it vexed me that everybody7 should despise him just because he wore a shabby coat." " Indeed I did not despise him," Freddy declared. " Well, y7ou would not take any7 notice of him ; and all the others looked at him as if they thought he wanted to pick their pockets. And yet, even if he had been a professional thief, they ought not to have let him see that he was suspected. At least, that is my idea of hospitality. I don't know whether it is yours." The worldly-wise Freddy replied that Miss Gervis was too generous.

Of course every man was innocent until he was proved guilty, and all that sort of thing ; but at the same time, there were lots of sharps about, and if one didn't keep one's eyes open, one was safe to be done, you know. He added, somewhat in consequently, that these remarks were not intended to bear a personal application. " If I believed a man to be what you call a ' sharp,' I would not ask him to dine with me," said Genevieve ; " but, if I had asked a man to dinner, I should think that I was insulting my guests, as well as him, by showing him that I took him for a sharp." " Oh, I see," said Freddy, " you mean what your father said. ' The old gentleman did give him one or two nasty ones, certainly. At least, I suppose he did. I didn't understand what it was all about myself; only I saw the fellow wriggling and looking uncomfortable.

How ever, you need not be unhappy about it ; there's no harm done. Mr. Gervis began to talk to old Rags — I beg your pardon ; M. Hirsch, I mean — directly you had gone out of the room ; MATRIMONY. and when we left them they were getting on like a house on fire." " Do you think," asked Genevieve suddenly, " that it is a very dreadful thing to dislike one's own father ? But of course it must be. It is horrible and wicked, and against nature ; and __. » yet " Oh, I don't think so at all," said Freddy serenely. " If a man is a brute, he must take the consequences." " He is not quite that.' " What, Mr. Gervis ? Oh, of course not ; I did not mean him. But some fellows' governors are regular brutes ; no other word for them. There's a man I know in the Guards — an awfully good fellow — whose father is worth half a million, if he's worth a penny.

Well, you'd hardly believe it, but that old ruffian allows his son — an eldest son, mind you — three hundred a year besides his pay ; and a few months ago, what does he do but sticks a notice in the papers saying he won't be responsible for any debts poor Jack may contract ! Now an old screw like that is bound to be hated. Can't expect anything else, you know." Here was a strange kind of confidant for Miss Gervis, whom her few intimates were wont to accuse of excessive reticence, to have chosen ; but in the lives of all men and women there are moments in which sympathy seems almost a necessity ; and a combination of circumstances, which it would be tedious, and perhaps superfluous, to enumerate, had now brought such a moment to our heroine. It must be remembered, too, that Freddy had, in her estimation, shown himself to be a true and disinterested friend, and that reserved natures seldom bestow their confidence by halves.

She passed by his irrelevant reference to the ill-used guardsman, and went on, following her own line of thought : " It is my fault, I suppose, that we have never got on together. Claud hits it off with him very well, though he sees all the things that I see and knows all that I know — and more, perhaps. Claud makes allowances ; I can't. I must either like people very much or dislike them very much ; and I am afraid it makes no difference whatever to me whether they are my relations or not. In those whom I love I believe I could pardon anything — any cruelty, or wickedness, or neglect — it would not make me change ; but it is not in me to love any one from a sense of duty ; and if I do not love, I — do the reverse." " That is just the character of all others that MATRIMONY. I would have myself, if I could choose," cried Freddy with enthusiasm.

" No," answered Genevieve, rather sadly, " I don't think anybody would choose to be like that ; only perhaps it may be some excuse for me that one has no choice in the matter. If my father were ill, -and I could nurse him, or if he were in any trouble, and I could help him, I would do it because he is my father ; but to be fond of him because he is my father — no ; that is impossible." " Has he been treating you unkindly ? " Freddy asked, sliding off the paling on to his feet, and looking quite fierce at the bare idea of such atrocity. " No ; he is never unkind to me ; he is even kind, after a fashion, though I don't think it would distress him in the least if I were to die to-night. But there are others to whom he is not only unkind, but positively cruel. I don't know whether you will understand what I mean ; but you know how cruel children often are.

Claud and I used to torture our dogs in all kinds of ways ; and I remember our once putting a cat in walnut-shells and laughing till the tears ran down our cheeks at the absurd way the poor thing floundered about on the pol ished parquet. " " I have alway7s delighted in seeing a pig killed myself," interjected Freddy meditatively. " We got into great trouble about the cat. I daresay we were thoughtless, heartless little wretches in many ways ; but I know that when some friends took us to see those horrible serpents at the Jardin des Plantes fed upon live birds and rabbits, we could not bear it, and we both ran away, crying as if our hearts would break. There was one boy who stayed, and saw it all. I abhorred that boy ever after wards. He is a man now, and I abhor him still." " I think I see what you mean," said Freddy, stroking his fair moustache reflectively.

"It makes a lot of difference whether a fellow is cruel without meaning it, or in the way of sport, and that, or whether he is cruel because he likes it." " Yes ; it is a horrible thing to enjoy the sissht of sufferino-. So far as the hatefulness <__> «-J of the enjoyment is concerned, I can't see that it matters much whether the pain is bodily or mental, or even whether the amount of it is great or small. It seems to me that there is not much to choose between a boy who sticks pins through living butterflies, for the pleasure of watching their dying struggles, and a man MATRIMONY. whose chief amusement is to hurt people's feelings or to make them look ridiculous. Only the boy is whipped and sent to bed, whereas the man is admired and applauded as a wit." " But don't you think," began Freddy, with some hesitation — for he was wavering between a strong habitual bias in favour of giving the devil his due and an equally strong disinclina tion to connect his feminine ideal with the remotest suspicion of injustice — " don't you think that you are a little bit hard upon Mr. Gervis ?

I mean to say, things might hurt your feelings, you know, which wouldn't trouble other people for a moment. Some fellows have such precious thick hides ! Look at me, for instance. He might go on chaffing, if it amused him, till all was blue, and I shouldn't care a rap." " That is partly because you are too kind hearted yourself to believe that any one could really mean to vex you," said Genevieve, laughing a little, " and partly because he hasn't it in his power to hurt you seriously. If you were in the position of that poor man whom he is tormenting at this moment you would understand him better. But I know what you must think of me for saying all this ; and you are quite right. There are things which ought never to be said, whether they are true or not." Upon this Freddy took the opportunity of stating his opinion of Miss Gervis with much warmth and a free use of superlatives ; and so the dialogue took a turn more interesting to the speakers, but less so, perhaps, to the outer world.

The reader's heart is, in all probability, harder than Genevieve's, and is not likely to suffer any very severe pangs if he is asked to return for a few minutes to the dining-room, and to look on at the supposed martyrdom of M. Hirsch. No sooner had Mr. Flemyng's bulky7 form disappeared through the glass doors that opened upon the terrace than that gentleman drew his chair a little closer to his host's, and pouring out a glass of claret for himself with a mixture of bravado and nervousness, proceeded straight to business. "You will understand, Mr. Gervis," he began, "that I should not have been so bold as to make my way into your house unless I had had a communication to make to you." Gervis inclined his head slightly. " Sir, I will be frank with you ; I will conceal nothing." " Thank you very much," said Mr. Gervis sweetly.

" May I offer you a cigarette ? " MATRIMONY. 12 The stranger accepted the proffered civility7, lighted his cigarette with a rather shaky hand, and resumed : " I want money ; I prefer to say so at once. You will perhaps think me a blackguard " A slight gesture of Mr. Gervis's hand seemed to express polite acquiescence. " Mon Dieu ! it is not I who shall contradict you ; but when one is reduced to starvation, and when one has information which is Avorth money, one does not give it away. You will have guessed at once that what I have to say7 refers to the Princess Ouranoff — your wife. Ah, sir, that woman has treated me abomin ably !— horribly ! For all these years I have been her friend ; I would have been her friend still — yes ! her friend, sir, and not yours ; for it has been my weakness to sacrifice duty to compassion — but the time has now come when I can no longer be silent.

Only three days ago I arrived from South America. I landed at Southampton with only three shillings in my pocket ; I have walked from thence to this place, living on crusts of bread, sleeping in barns — in ditches — where I could ; and now, what do I find ? That she has gone away ; that she is in France, amusing herself with her gay friends ; that she has not so much as left a message for me ; that she is out of my reach. I was hungry ; I was half-dead with fatigue ; I felt all my strength leave me — what could I do?" The man's voice broke ; and he paused for a moment, with an emotion which appeared to be genuine enough. " M. Hirsch," said Gervis, "you distress me. Pray help yourself. And so the Princess refused to pay any more black-mail ? " For an instant the expression of M. Hirsch's face changed.

A vicious look showed itself about the corners of his mouth and a gleam shot from between his blinking eyelids. He took some more claret, however, and con tinued : "You put things in plain language, Mr. Gervis. After all, why not ? J'aime aidant fa. On my side, I will avail myself of the same privilege. I may tell you that the story of your married life is no secret to me. I know that for years past you have only been the husband of the Princess Ouranoff in name. I know that you have had many suspicions, but no proofs. I know that you would give much to be rid, once and for all, of the woman who has deceived and disgraced yrou. Is it not so ? " Gervis laid his head on one side, and sur- MATRIMONY. veyed his interlocutor with a certain pensive curiosity, but said nothing. " Now," proceeded M. Hirsch, taking silence for consent, "supposing that I had it in my power to insure you absolute freedom from her as soon as you please ?

" "How much," inquired Gervis in his blandest tones, "how much, my7 dear sir, did you think of asking for this priceless boon ? " " Twenty thousand pounds sterling — neither more nor less," answered the other firmly. " It is a large sum ; but you are a rich man ; and liberty is worth that, and more than that, to you. Moreover, you would actually economize by the transaction, I believe ; for what is the interest of twenty thousand pounds at five per cent ? A mere thousand a year, is it not ? I shall be much surprised to hear that the Princess Ouranoff has not cost yrou more than that, beyond her private fortune, for some years past." " M. Hirsch, it is evident that I can keep nothing back from you ; and really your mode ration astonishes me. But has it not occurred to you that, if the conclusive evidence which you hint at exists, I might possibly obtain it without your aid, and so save my twenty7 thousand ?

" " Impossible, Mr. Gervis. You may take it as absolutely certain that unless you regain your liberty through me, you will never regain it at all. I am the only man living who holds the requisite proofs. For the rest, you have but to remember how long it is that you have been searching high and low in vain for what you want in order to see that this is not a case in which detectives and spies can be of any service to you." " Too true ! And you really will not take less than twenty thousand pounds ? " " Sir, I have said it. I am a man of my word. See now, Mr. Gervis, I will place myself in your hands without reserve. With half a dozen words I will undertake to convince you of the truth of my statement ; I will rely upon your honour then to hand me a cheque, a promissory note, or what you will, for the money ; and in a few weeks' time, at furthest, proofs which no court of law could withstand for one moment shall be in your hands.

Is it a bargain ? " " Ah well, M. Hirsch," said Gervis, throwing the end of his cigarette out of the window, " you are a shocking rascal, I am afraid ; but your impudence has afforded me some little amusement. Will you have any more wine, or shall we join the ladies now ? " MATRIMONY. " What is the meaning of this ? Please to speak plainly, sir," returned the other in a hoarse voice. His eyelids had stopped blink ing ; two vertical lines had appeared on his retreating forehead ; his pointed chin was slightly thrust forward. He presented alto gether as striking a type of the born assassin as any physiognomist could wish to study. " Why, the meaning of it, my good creature," replied Mr. Gervis, " is simply that your little plan has failed. In forming it, you appear to have forgotten, or to have been ignorant of, two trifling circumstances — firstly7, that you were speaking to a gentleman, and secondly7, that you were not speaking to an absolute fool.

I am not going to say anything indignant about your attacks upon the character of an absent lady — still less about the flattering estimate which you seem to have formed of my own morality. I very7 rarely7 allow myself to be angry — never with persons of your description. You will admit that it would be hardly worth my while. What I should have thought might have been patent to you is that I should never believe, or pay7 for, a single word that y7ou uttered, whether supported by7 what you call proof or not. I remember you quite well at Wiesbaden, where you entered y-ourself in the visitors' book at the hotel under I forget what Russian name ending in off or eff. Doubtless it was not your own — if that signified. Do you know, M. Hirsch, that the only hopeful symptom I have observed in your case is that you are by7 no means an accomplished liar."

The languid drawl with which these sentences were enunciated more than doubled their insult ing significance. The stranger, whose face had turned as white as the table-cloth before him, lost all control over his passion. Trembling, and muttering a curse, he leapt to his feet, and caught up a knife that lay beside his plate. The next instant, his right arm was thrown up above his head and held there powerless in a firm grasp, while the knife was jerked out of his hand on to the floor. Mr. Gervis let him go at once, and fell back in his chair, laughing heartily. " M. Hirsch, you are the most comical ruffian I ever encountered. Are you aware that you have been threatening my life with a dessert knife ? Never mind ; your intentions were good ; and if I did not happen to be tolerably strong in the wrists still, in spite of my age, I dare say you might have startled me.

As it is, I have to thank you for a dramatic finish to a most entertaining evening." vol. 11. c MATRIMONY. The man was cowed — as much, perhaps, by the ridicule of his host as by the consciousness that he was too physically weak to be formidable to anybody7. " Will you allow me," he asked humbly, " to say a few more words upon the subject which " " Thank you, no," answered Mr. Gervis. " On the contrary, if you so much as allude to it again, I shall ring the bell, and tell the servants to turn you out at the front door." "That shall not be necessary," said M. Hirsch, rising. " You are a hard man, Mr. Gervis ; but you are not so clever as you think yourself. I wish you good evening." He had his hand upon the door-handle when Mr. Gervis stopped him. "Wait one moment, M. Hirsch. Where do you propose to sleep to-night ?

" The man shrugged his shoulders silently. " Please to sit down. I will be with you again directly. Mr. Gervis left the room, and presently returned, with his slow, weary step, holding a bundle of bank-notes in his hand. " Here are fifty pounds," said he ; " it is all the spare cash I have by me. Rascality, M. Hirsch, arises mainly out of adverse circumstances. The human family is composed of members of various shades and colours ; and with a slight effort I find that I can recognize in you an erring brother. With this money you will at least be able to find your way to the Princess, whom you will no doubt bully for more. I am sorry I can't see my way to protecting her from you. I am sorry, also, that I cannot offer you a bed ; but conventionality7 must be respected up to a certain point. Good-bye.

Don't let me see you again, please." M. Hirsch looked at Gervis and looked at the notes. Necessity has no law. He took them, without a word of acknowledgment, and went away. " Poor devil ! " mused Gervis aloud, lighting another cigarette, as he heard the hall-door slam behind his late visitor. " I dare say he knows something. Or was it only the old story perhaps ? To think of his taking up a silver knife to me — ha, ha, ha ! I wonder now whether, if I had been in his place, I should have chosen to accept that money or starve. Dear me, what a farce it all is, to be sure ! " MATRIMONY.

Chapter II. Mr

FLEMYNG'S DAHLIAS. A bachelor friend of mine, who was once highly susceptible to feminine charms, but has now reached a period of life at which he can view the agitations of bygone days in the calm light of reason, and analyse them with a mixture of self-pity and self-complacency, is fond of broaching a theory to the effect that there is some intimate connection between the progress of the tender passion and the course of the seasons. It has invariablybeen so, he says, in his own case. Upon each occasion he has felt the first stirrings of his heart in the spring ; the summer has seen him falling more and more deeply in love ; September and the partridges have brought him the first faint symptoms of a diminution of the fever ; with October a perceptible coolness has set in ; and he has been quite his own man again at the commencement of the hunting season.

Warned by repeated experiences of this nature, he has learnt, in all recent attacks, what to expect ; and recognizing the approach of the familiar malady, has possessed his soul in patience, knowing full well that, with a little self-command, he will escape scathless, and live to see his illusions slowly waning with the waning of the year. According to this authority, the month of August is the time when a prudent man should take most heed to his ways. It is a time of holiday-making for some, of idleness for nearly all ; a time in which the common pursuits of men are very generally also those of women ; a time of long days and warm, dry evenings. If this dangerous moment be but safely tided over, says my friend, there is good hope of the sufferer's recovery ; and he professes to have observed that more engagements are announced in the course of the month in question than during any other four weeks of the year.

My own experience does not enable me to endorse my friend's theory at all points ; but I am inclined to go with him in that part of it which refers to the perils of August — and more ■especially of a fine August. Now it so fell out that the summer which "* MATRIMONY. witnessed the return of the Gervis family to England was an exceptional one. Day7 after day the sun shone down in his strength upon woodland and meadow and sea ; what rain there was fell in short, sharp thunder-showers, and passed away7 ; the peaches ripened a good fortnight before their time ; on either side of the narrow field-paths the corn rose above a man's head ; the nights were starryand still ; and through it all Claud walked, as in a fool's paradise, vaguely rejoicing in the beauty7 of life, but seeing no object with any distinctness, save the graceful figure of Nina Flemymg.

A man who lives in a fool's paradise — by which, I take it, is meant an individual who, for the time being, has lost his bearings, and neither knows nor cares whither the sequence of events may be hurrying him — is doubtless, from the terms of the proposition, a fool. Yet, since some such failure of mental stability7 may be regarded as an almost necessary7 condition of love, and as the obvious deduction that all lovers must be fools is one which will hardly meet with universal acceptance, no special apology on this score seems needful on behalf of Claud, who indeed was by7 no means one of that class of persons which, in a general way, allows itself to be ruled by circumstances rather than be at the pains of ruling them. If he had lacked some one definite pro gramme in life, the fault had not been his, but his father's, who, while debarring him from the exercise of a profession, had omitted to suggest to him any other outlet for surplus energy ; but certain objects he had set before himself, and had worked up to patiently — such as the estab lishment of a home for his erratic father in England, the closing of the chronic family breach, and the earning of a name for himself by means of literature.