Mothers and Sons. A story of real life

Chapter I. The Treasure's Cost

Nugent Harvey did not reckon without his host when he calculated so confidently and with preceptorial solicitude on his pupil making the most of the occasion with his doating mother. The pupil, herein, justified to the full the master's high opinion of him, he was well up to his work in the task he had to do, and he left him to its performance, perfectly satisfied that the result would redound as much to the advantage of the one as of the other ; while — that nothing should be left undone — he sought Bella Gordon, lest intelligence it was impossible she could be long kept ignorant of should reach her in a way might be more painful to her feelings, and Cecil stand, in consequence, in a less favourable light than his affection could bear the thought of. For a moment or two Lord Fitzherbert lingered, VOL. III.

B with his forefinger and thumb pressed against his upper lip, at his mother's bed-room door; when, seemingly resolved, he knocked gently, — and " come in, " in a faint voice, assuring him she was alone, a glance, as he entered the room, was sufficient to determine him as to the part he had to play. Lady Fitzherbert was reclining on a lounge-couch, supported by luxurious cushions, with her left hand, which grasped a richly embroidered cambric hand kerchief, hanging over the side. A beautifully tessellated sofa-table of divers choice woods stood close by, covered with the usual costly little curiosities Hancock, and Howell and James consider indis pensable for a modern lady's comforts ; conspicuous among which was a gorgeously enamelled writing case, that had, apparently, been serving a useful as well as an ornamental part that morning, and an exquisitely wrought gold-mounted smelling bottle within reach, to look at which was enough to restore the weakest nerves, let alone the delicious perfume it emitted every time its precious services were called into requisition.

Lady Fitzherbert had been weeping, as the dimmed eyes, and flushed cheek, and embroidered pocket handkerchief sufficiently attested. But tears with Lady Fitzherbert were so natural, so part and parcel of her constitution, came and went so fast and frequently, hovered the slightest passing cloud over, that, like vernal showers, Norton — and none more weather-wise in such matters than Dinah Norton — hailed them always as omens rather of brighter than of blacker skies, and thought no more about them. "A good cry will do her good" were words that Cecil Fitzherbert had been accustomed to hear so often in his life from Norton's lips, that at last he came to account his mother's tears pretty much as Adam Roots did the soft summer showers — as some thing positively indispensable of kind nature's own providing, every drop of which was " worth its weight in gold ;" and, to judge by the frequency with which Lady Fitzherbert dropped the golden treasures, possibly she was of the same opinion, too.

As Cecil drew his chair to the sofa-side, and grasped the cold, hanging, passive hand through the saturated cambric — saturated he affectionately trusted rather with mille fleur than with tear drops — out burst the flood afresh. " A good cry will do her good," thought Cecil to himself, and, covering his face with his right hand, while with the other he retained his grasp of his mother's fingers, he sat, as if transfixed with grief, motionless, and without the power of utterance — till the good should come. Lady Fitzherbert, though highly nervous, as they call it, was not so excessively selfish as most highly nervous persons are. While no one, within eye or ear-shot, was suffering but herself, she could be as B intensely egotistical as the most selfish sufferer on Dr. Chambers 's nervous list ; but let sign or sound of suffering from another make itself really seen or heard, and Lady Fitzherbert — else how could her jealous, exacting husband have loved her as he did ? — had a heart brimming over with sympathy and kindness.

Still Lady Fitzherbert wept — and still continued Cecil to repeat to himself, " a good cry will do her good." But the good not seeming to result as soon as he expected, filial forbearance could no more — the torrent would no longer be controled, — and, fairly giving way, his Lordship, relinquishing his hold of his mother's pocket-hankerchief, sunk, overpowered, on his knees, and, again burying his face in both hands, sobbed aloud. Had Nugent Harvey been but by, could he but have been witness of that suppliant form and contrite spirit, and how proud he would have felt, at that moment, of his pupil ! " My child, my child !" cried the frightened mother, forgetting, in her alarm for her only one, every thought of self, and throwing her arms round his neck ; as, raising his head and gazing woe-struck into that doating mother's eyes, he fell heart-broken on her shoulder, — " my dearest, best, of treasures — my own first — my last — my only one !" and sobbed in concert.

It was a touching scene, that sobbing concert between doating mother and designing child, and bore its own touching moral. Why succeed deceit and hypocrisy in this life as often as they do ? Because of blind love — because of passion that has the mastery — because of pride— because of vanity — because of indolence — because it is much easier to say yes, than no — because the devil is ever at the elbow to answer yea for us, when we want the resolution to return him nay ; and, thus, falsehood and duplicity add hourly to their vicitims, and the world wonders, angels weep, and the devil snaps his thumbs. Well, indeed, had Cecil Fitzherbert improved the occasion as Nugent Harvey could have wished. " His own heart too surely was the best instructor for that ;" and never had it come off more triumphantly than on that eventful day.

" Your ill-deserved goodness, my dear mother," said Cecil, as sqon as his emotion would allow him to find utterance, " while it fills my heart with more love and gratitude than language can express, sends daggers also to it of self-reproach." " Thus let me pluck them out, then, for ever !" returned Lady Fitzherbert, again throwing her arm round the penitent's neck, and imprinting forgiving kiss after kiss upon his cheek. " Yes — yes — I know it — I believe it from my heart — you will never give me cause for sorrow more. O Cecil, my own child ! what have I suffered for your sake? But this moment repays me for all — yes, yes — there — there's an end of it ! Speak, speak to your mother, Cecil." " The sacrifices — the noble sacrifices — your love — your untiring devotion — your boundless generosity have made for me," sobbed Cecil. — " Are nothing — a drop as to the ocean ! my own child," insisted the weeping mother, pressing her repentant one forgivingly to her bosom.

" What sacrifice that I could have made — my own — my only one — my heart's best — my proudest treasure ! would have been too much for the joyful assurance — how exquisite ! — this moment affords me of your future happiness and welfare ? Nay — they are tears of joy such as I never shed before. There — my heart is light now as a feather. So, go — there — there, then, — they're all dried away ! Go, and join them down stairs, while I get these tell-tale eyes a little into order ; and send Norton to me, for I wouldn't, for the world, Esther, or any of them, should see a cloud anywhere on our hearts to-day — of all days, too, this — and the Vicar our guest. Best not say a word to Bella, either, at present. Poor child ! she's far from well. It makes me quite sad to see her ! I'm so vexed I didn't insist on her seeing Chambers before we came down.

She'll be much pleased, I think, with Nugent Harvey's conduct to-day. Leave it to me — that's best — I'll break it to her when she's better. He's really a noble fellow ! His delicacy in doing a favour is so charming ! When he gets into his new house, you must choose him something handsome at Storr's — something useful, and will come, I think, gracefully. It'll be Bella's own fault, that I'm positive of, if she's not a happy woman." " She don't favour his hopes, I'm afraid, as much as you could wish ?" rejoined Cecil. " So I've sometimes imagined. But that I attri bute to her health more than anything else. A blow at St. Leonard's is what I greatly reckon on — for both of us. It would be a splendid match for her ! He loves her to distraction — that I do believe." " You really do ?" " Unquestionably.

Or, you know, it wouldn't have my countenance." " He has made no proposals as yet, you say ?" " To her ?" " Yes." " Not exactly — no — not at present, I believe. But there can't be a doubt — not a shadow of one — with the slightest word, or look of encouragement — " " She gives him no encouragement either, then — none ?" " You know she's such a strange girl ! All heart, and, yet, so distant. If I were not sure she has a nature just the same as her dear mother's, full, to overflowing, of love, and tenderness, I should say, to see her listless ways, she had no heart at all now — she is so altered !" " Perhaps, as you say, her health ?" observed Cecil. " That's what I really do think must be it. We shall see what the sea will do. It always does wonders for me. But, now we're on it — I'll tell you what you might do — what I think you ought to do — it's a debt you owe — a debt of gratitude would come from you so well — better than from any one else a great deal — " " Ah ! what ?

You have but to — " " Say a kind word for him in your own way — I wish you would — as no one else can do it like your self. That would have more weight with her, I'm certain, than all the rest put together. You know — her happiness is my sole object." '' Poor devil !" thought Cecil to himself — Nugent Harvey standing full length before him. — " Bella Gordon's the heart to be won by proxy ? Sunny prospect '•" " I can't tell what has come to her of late," con tinued Lady Fitzherbert. " When you were with us, she was all joy, and life, and so full spirits, and up to all sorts of fun and frolic ! now, if she hears only his step, or knock at the door, she scampers away like a frightened fawn. It makes me quite angry with her sometimes ; it's so different to what I was at her age." "A sign she loves, if she runs away, isn't it?" smiled Cecil.

" If she came back again when coaxed — may be, not unlikely. But, nine times out of ten, there's no getting her back any how, for love, or money." " O the artfulness !" cried Cecil — " the sex, all over. Would I despair of my coy fawn, though, for all that, if I were huntsman ? Stuff ! Hasn't she heard Nugent say fifty times- — I know she has, — ' he wouldn't give a button for the game he could coax with a crumb, to come and perch upon his shoulder ?' " Lady Fitzherbert smiled. " Well, well, nous verrons," said she cheerfully, going up to her toilet table — " time will shew. Still, I do think a little word — you understand — in your own nice way — when you've a chance — not as if on purpose — but just inci dentally — just — you understand — " " Yes, yes," said Cecil, pressing his lips again to his mother's cheek — "just so — you're quite right — leave it to me — I know- — I'll take her to task — the little, simple, silly noodle ! — never fear — Nugent Harvey knows, by George ! how to catch his bird, trust him for that, without the salt upon its tail.

But — yes, yes — you're right there — a word can do no harm — just so — leave it to me — what, indeed, could she desire better — what indeed ? — By George ! half past two ! — you'll be down, then, in ten minutes ?" What a present comfort under affliction to its B possessor is a hopeful, buoyant spirit, in warfare with this world's trials and tribulations ! Lady Fitzher bert's was a nature that, with all her submissive sighs and pious resignations, in the feeling of present relief found its best solace. So that she could be relieved of the present pressing load, be it what it might, the past and the future seemed to give her very little trouble. Her best joy of life was the perfect enjoy ment of the passing hour. Give her but that, and, with ' His will be done !' she left the rest to Him, sincerely believing, we admit, that, in handing over to Heaven all the rest, she was performing a very meri torious and quite sufficient duty.

A very little would elate her, as a very little would depress. Excitement " killed " her, she said, and, yet, to a certain extent, it was necessary to her existence. She had been the slave of her nerves ever since the birth of her boy, and the doating indulgence of her loving Lord para lized any little energies less luxurious circumstances might have probably called forth. It had been the duty of her physicians and friends ever to be minis tering to those nerves, to be shutting out from view, as much as possible, every dark page in the history of the past, every but the brightest spots in the prospects of the future. The result was — as was inevitable with a mind like Lady Fitzherbert's — her joy, or sorrow of life was the time present ; and, though the burden of Nugent Harvey's tete-a-tete that morning was a stunning blow, at first might well lay her prostrate on her sofa, bathed in floods of tears and mille fleur as Cecil found her, the immediate danger over, the dark cloud passed, the storm averted — no sooner felt she the certainty that the present had prevailed, that the crushing weight of the impending peril was removed, that not a hair of her beloved one's head was injured, than the reviving spirit breathed again, all the dark history of the past — and very dark indeed it once had seemed ! — faded like mists before the rising sun, and Lady Fitzherbert, kissing away the tears of penitence and amendment from the prodigal's pensive cheek, would have deemed more than half her wealth well spent for the assurance those silent tokens gave her of a cloudless future.

She had given her bond to her banker, only half an hour before, for twelve thousand nine hundred and eighty-three pounds, in addition to how many other bonds wrung from her by the like hopes at various times passed, we are not curious to inquire. But what of that ? It was a feather's weight in compari son with the sense of the load removed. " His will be done ! Thank God ! she had the power given her to remove it, or what would have become of her with her poor nerves ? What poor needy creatures did — for she supposed they sometimes suffered with their nerves as well as the rich — she couldn't tell. Perhaps they did'nt feel troubles so keenly — perhaps constant familiarity with them blunted their finer feelings. Nervousness and no money must be dread ful ! Yes, the poor were much to be pitied ! and the rich had a deal to be thankful for !

But in that, as in all things else — His will alone be done ! That Lady Fitzherbert was sincere in this there is no doubt. What, indeed, would have become of her, with her poor nerves, had she been the " poor thing" her heart sunk at the very thought of ? And, if she felt the gratitude her words implied, no wonder, at her overflowing joy that day ! — a joy which, diffusing itself in all directions, and communicating with everybody and everything within her reach, sent such a thrill even through Arnold Webster's iron soul, that Adam Roots, spite of the rheumatism, could have danced, and skipped for joy and Bridget Crofts, to keep him company, gone through a minuet, too, with Mr. Lam bert, if Mr. Jeames Lambert had only known the step. Even Harry Block, the butcher's boy, got a large lump of pudding from the kitchen, and, from Adam, a bunch of beautiful tulips for his pony's bridle ; " a pretty sure proof," as Nugent Harvey said, smiling to himself as he watched Harry munching his prize as he cleared the drive — " a pretty sure proof of the truth of the old aphorism — ' it's an ill wind that don't blow somebody good ;' " with which grateful placebo, wherefore should not Nugent Harvey have enjoyed the fruits of his hard earnings, too, that day, as well as Harry Block ?

While Cecil had been " improving the occasion" with his mother, the Friend in Need had left nothing undone that the occasion required with Bella Gordon ; and never had he taken greater pains, with, seemingly, less of effort, in the performance of his part in the little domestic drama than on that occasion. But the master had a far more difficult part to get through than the pupil. Bella had a heart as well as Lady Fitzherbert, and a fond one, too, and nerves to give it play, as intensely susceptible, though differently strung. But Bella had, though passionate, a nice sense of truth, and a discriminating judgment ; and, great actor as he was, hard as he had studied, and well applied what he had learnt, Nugent Harvey found it a much easier task to play to Lady Fitzherbert than to Bella Gordon.

" What am I to understand, then ?" asked Bella — Esther having, in that charitable spirit we suppose which does as it would be done by, found a pretext for slipping away when Nugent Harvey joined them, thinking, probably, that, in such cases, two were good company, but three none, — " what am I to under stand ?" asked Bella — the first shock of Cecil's dan ger yielding somewhat to the assurance of his perfect present safety — " your house, you say, advances the money to Lord Fitzherbert ?" " Yes." " That's kind. On what security ? You know what a little woman of business I can be ?" " The same as the last." " Poor Castlemore ! Must be pretty well already overcharged ?" " In the market, perhaps — yes. Among friends, I'm in hopes — I think I may say — it can — it shall be done." " If not— how then ?"

" How then ? — Don't alarm us both, pray, by such a question." " It is possible." « It shan't be !" " That's a comfort ! But — frighten you ? — Why should you be frightened ?" " I may plead guilty, I hope, to having some feel ing for myself this time," replied Nugent Harvey, appealingly, " without standing lower, I trust, in your esteem ?" " How ? — Incur you, personally, any risk ?" " Literally, de facto et de jure, as the lawyers say, for every shilling. In foro conscientiœ — you are Latin scholar enough for that, I know — none whatever." " A comfort again that. Yes, I see. Lady Fitz herbert takes the de facto and the de jure part of it, that's it ?" " Without which, Messrs. Bludge and Slinks," replied Harvey, " would hardly have been satisfied, I'm afraid, to leave us in possession." " Just so.

Fair enough. And, I'll warrant, she would deem her possession, poor thing ! bought cheap — don't you think so — cost her what it will ?" " In for o conscientiœ, she ought not ever to be the loser of a sixpence." " In fact — her mother's heart has just cost her twelve thousand nine hundred and eighty-three pounds, you said ; which, added to the other little love-bonds at Saints and Angels, makes — let's see — how much, to go to the accounts, some day, of the in foro con scientiœ ? Dread tribunal that of conscience ! if all the just debts due to it had to be paid in full. And that's not all, by a great deal, is it ? There's more yet to go down to the score of conscience?" " What else there may be," replied Nugent Har vey, slightly colouring, " need not hang very heavy on us, I'm inclined to hope."

" Maternal love is a rich Vein to draw from," sighed Bella, turning towards the house. " Poor, fond mother's heart ! There needs an inexhaustible mine somewhere to keep pace, don't there, with these relentless drafts ?" " I'm in great hopes," consoled Nugent, " we shall soon have a rich co-operating mine to reckon on be sides the maternal love — from which — " " The Messrs. Bludge and Slinks, think you, will have the courtesy to wait," interrupted Bella — a slight smile of derision curling her lip — " for the payment of their little claims and costs ? If so, I assure you my faith will be materially increased." " Reward me only with the assurance that I may hope for so much of that faith," was on Nugent Harvey's lips, "as may do this heart justice;" — when lo Triumphe ! — what gladdening sounds of victory and rejoicing now come ringing on the gale — what beauteous form is that — borne triumphantly along amidst those heart-stirring shouts of joy and exulta tion ?

Can it be — or do our eyes deceive us — Annie Lawton ? Yes, yes — it is Annie — it must be Annie — there are not two such as our Annie in existence ! Welcome — welcome — joy — joy— joy — give honour where 'tis due — vivas long and loud for Annie Lawton ! ! ! And what modesty of air and bearing with that proud garland of victory round her brow ! how meek, how unassuming, how truly noble those gentle smiles ! what genuine, unaffected grace in every look and movement, worthy of true heroinism ! And — make way — make way — what can that mighty trophy be on which all eyes are bent — borne by those two gallant squires so exultingly in advance ? Mercy on us ! do we see a-right — or is it the vision of other days that has been haunting us since the May-fly came buzzing about our brain and robbing us of our sleep ?

What — the six-pounder in the Spinnie Loch ? O, Annie, Annie — cruel girl ! thus to rob us of our laurels. Six-pounder ? Mercy on us, sirs ! — six ? Poh — it must be eight — yes, eight, gentle disciples all of good old Isaac — eight, we tell you — eight, if it's an ounce ! Look at it ! Well may the air ring with acclamations, and not a nook nor corner of old Castlemore but be echoing one jubilate ! Well may the whole village round be going crazy like with wonder !

Well may Adam Roots throw down his rake, and, rubbing his eyes, stand rooted to the spot ! well may Arnold Webster's cold heart, opening, draw cork after cork, as if it were but water ; and Bridget Crofts look in Mr. Jeames Lambert's estimation twenty years younger than she owns to ; well may Sam, utterly forgetting himself, take advantage of the universal holiday, and get his sweet face slapped by pretty Hannah Chalcraft ; well may the fever, running like wildfire through the house, at last call for Bridget's serious interference ; and well may Lady Fitzherbert herself be touched, too ; and, with Esther, running out, forget there is either a past or future in the fullness of the present ; and Aunt Gerty, and W'alter Pemberton — well may they stand so happy by, exchanging those unutterable looks ; and Clermont, that day the proudest of them all, well may Clermont bless his lucky stars, and go on so saucily, as Miss Rosalie, whispering in his ear, " don't I know what you're thinking of? give me a penny and I'll tell you," he bounds over to Annie, and, in defiance of all decorum, mischievously, as if that could hurt them, the simple noodle ! brings the full-blown red roses all a-growing to her cheeks ; and the Vicar, well may he, tearing himself away an hour earlier from his dear old friend — to find whom still so hale and hearty fills his brotherly heart with joy, indeed ! — hasten to do honour with his own eyes and ears to Harry Block's exciting errand ; and Bella Gordon — well may Bella think of her breakfast chat with Cecil, and of the cricket ball on the Richmond lawn, and of the trees and brambles, and how Annie, " if she hooked her fish, could never find it in her heart to land him ;" — and Cecil, well may Cecil, how ever he may laugh it off, and give Miss Rosalie the tit for tat, wince under her impertinent home thrusts !

" Tut, tut ! You talk indeed, Miss Rosalie ? Do as much as that, then, if you can ! You an angler ? O good' gracious ! you go fishing ? O ye gods and little minnows ! — hooked him ? — sure of that — quite sure ? Pardon, I have my doubts. You know which way the wind blows ? Nay, it's against all rules. Pr'ythee, do be advised. Nay, you'll never land him so — you play him much too long. You will — you say you will? Pardon — you sink lower every moment in my estimation. Indeed ! Hooked him ? — oh, have you. Then land him, pray, by all means. Whatever you do — make haste — quick, quick ! or you lose him for a thousand !" " Highty-tighty there ! my Lord. None of those airs ! Don't you wish — yes — I should think so — you may hook her, too ? What next I wonder ? The idea of that. That's a good one !

Don't you wish now — tell me — don't you — you may hook her — hook her — anyhow- — let alone the landing? Oh, the vanity ! — oh, the insufferable self-conceit ! — oh, the lamentable blindness of some folks !" But what thought or what said Nugent Harvey amidst all these joyous jubilates ? Nugent Harvey had quite enough to do to listen and observe ; and at Castlemore that abounding day there was ample food for his utmost knowledge-craving. What he learnt by it, to turn to good account, is known only to himself; but, to have judged by appearances, certainly if there was one countenance, then and there present, that bore in its every feature the index of a Christian heart — that countenance, watch and scrutinize it as keenly as you would, was Nugent Harvey's. Among the many fertile phenomena of nature's handiwork this chequered life is full of for our in struction, none that bring with them more wholesome lessons, if we would but con them right, than the sudden phases of deep shade and dazzling light, and vice versd, that one brief hour of the same day will present.

As after the fiercest storms come continually the fairest skies, after the most terrific tempests the stillest calms, let none say — in peace with their consciences — there will be no pleasant noontide oasis spring up for them in the desert morning of their darkest hopelessness. Some good folks have a wonderful facility of conjuring up these sunny oases under the blackest skies. How they do it passes the comprehension of less sanguine souls. Whether their formulas may serve as a safe guide on all occasions is another matter ; but, really, happiness, in this life, is a word, to suit all tastes, of such difficult definition, that it is cheering to contemplate any ap proach to it, in any feasible form, be it what it may. We know an old lady, against whom we sometimes hold a hand at whist — for, with the utmost regard for us, we never could prevail on her to be our partner — when she counts her gains of a morning, how she hugs herself on our nice, little plump half-sovereign ! utterly forgetting, dear, good, easy, oblivious old soul ! the full change she gave us for it over night.