Mr. Montmorency's Money

Front matter

MR. MONTMORENCY'S MONEY. BY EMMA JANE WOKBOISE, AUTHOR OF "GREY AND GOLD," "OVERDALE," "MARGARET TORRIMGTON," "THORNTCROFT HALL," etc., etc. *' The Love of Money is thc Root of all Evil." Holy SceipturE. ' ' 'she Wretched Impotence of Gold." De. Yockg. LONDON: JAMES CLARKE & CO., 13, FLEET STREET, E.C. 1870. CONTENTS. CHAPTER pAGE I. — The Cunsey Marshes . . 1 II. — On the Cornice . . . .10 III. — Cleavanger House ... 20 IV. — Mr. and Mrs. Montmorency Tete-a- Tete . . . . .30 V.— Taken by Surprise ... 39 VI.— A Hard Man . . . .47 VII. — Cousin 'Duke .... 57 VIII. — Mr. Montmorency Expounds Himself 66 IX. — Purely Worldly ... 74 X. — Clotilda's Appeal . . .82 XI. — A Basin of Gruel ... 91 XH. — Charlotte in Disgrace . . . 100 XIII. — Mr. Montmorency is Astonished . 109 XIV. — Charlotte's Prospects . . . 119 XV. — Lady Laura .... 128 XVI.— Worldly Wisdom . . .136 XVII. — Charlotte Declines to Eat "Humble Pie" 146 XVIII.— A Brain- Wave . . . .156 XIX. — Cecily gets Tired . . . 165 XX. — The South Foreland Lighthouse . 174 XXI. — Over the Downs . . . 184 XXII.— Next Morning . . . .193 XXIII. — Lady Emma is Defeated . .

Contents. CHAPTER Page XXIV.— As Good as Gold . . 212 XXV.— The Walmer Coach . . 222 XXVI. — Leave of Absence . 231 XXVII. — Wanted an Heir . . • 239 XXVIII. — In Apartments . . . 248 XXIX. — An Unexpected Visitor . • 257 XXX. — Bevis has a Word to Say . 267 XXXI.— A Turn of Fortune . . .277 XXXII.— Susan .... 286 XXXIII.— Cecily's Nursery . . .296 XXXIV.— Lady Laura's Story . . 305 XXXV— Discusses Ways and Means . 314 XXXVI. — "Coming Events Cast their Shadows Before" . . . 324 XXXVII. — Shadow and Sunshine . . 333 XXXVIII.— Lady Laura's Embassy . . 342 j XXXIX. — Special Pleading . . 351 XL. — Tidings from the East . . 360 XLI. — Mr. Montmorency Signs a Cheque 369 XLIL— The Young Heir . . .377 XLIII. — Madame Champigny . . 385 XLIV. — Percy's Christmas Hymn . . 395 XLV— "A Little While" . . 405 XLVI. — Seven Years .... 414 XLVII. — Mr. Montmorency's Will . 423 XL VEIL— Charlotte Comes "Too Late" . 432 XLIX. — The Eesponsibilities of Wealth 441 L. — Percy's Inheritance . . .

Chapter I

the cunsey marshes. More than thirty years ago Mortimer Montmorency, Esq., lived at Cleavanger House, Broomhill, the stately and fashionable suburb of the large and wealthy seaport town of Easthambury. The Easthambury of 1838 was not at all what it is now in point of size, grandeur, and import ance ; but even then it was very large, and as regards population took rank only second after the metropolis itself. Its streets were narrower than they are at present ; the idea of cutting through all sorts of byeways and alleys, and demolishing insignificant streets, in order to form one splendid thoroughfare, lined with imposing edifices, had not yet presented itself to the minds of the corporation, although the rapidly increasing value of civic property and the immense augmentation of dock-dues had given more money into their keeping than at that period they knew how to disburse.

There were far fewer churches in Easthambury than you will find to-day, and fewer public buildings ; indeed, Easthambury itself was confined within certain limits, which it has long since averstepped, and what were pleasant country suburbs thirty years ago are now part and parcel of the great, busy, bustling, flourishing town itself, — the only town in all England, the Easthamburians declare, that will bear comparison with London ; it is, in fact, say they proudly, and not without reason, " the London of the north." Be that as it may, Easthambury is a fine town, standing on a noble estuary of the sea. Its dockyards line the c hroad stream ou either side for many miles ; forests of tall masts rise along its shores, and vessels of all nations plough the salt waves of the river, which is, indeed, the great artery of the commerce of the place.

Easthambury has always been renowned for its merchant princes ; and thirty years ago they were held in greater esteem and admiration than now they are. Not hut that there is more money in Easthambury now than there has ever been before ; but it is more generally dif fused ; wealth is more common, and it may be that as a result of the extravagant expenditure of the age it seems commoner than it really is. But in 1838 there were a certain number of men in Easthambury who really and truly were immensely rich ; and among them, renowned as the very richest, the haugh tiest, the sternest, and the most despotic, stood pre-emi nent, neither accepting nor disdaining the homage paid to him by his compeers as well as by inferiors — Mortimer Montmorency, Esq., of Cleavanger House. Not alone in wealth did Mr. Montmorency rejoice, but in a pedigree as good as any gentleman in the United Kingdom ; and it was difficult to say in which he gloried most, his fabulous riches or his ancient family.

Not that he ever gloried visibly in anything ; no man in Eastham bury could ever say that he had seen Mortimer Montmo rency's eyes sparkle with inward satisfaction, or his iron fea tures relaxing into the half-suppressed smile of self-gratula tion. He was far too proud to show his pride — infinitely too grand to care to make any demonstrations of his grandeur. Most men deferred to him, most men feared him, many men hated him ; but I never knew any man who truly loved him, though two women certainly did, and to their sorrow, poor things, for Mortimer Montmorency was not a man to make any woman even negatively haj-py. Why some women love some men is one of the vexed problems of this world that can only be solved in the next. Sadly regarding such and such experiences one wonders how any one could ever write, "Talk not of wasted affec tion; affection never is wasted!"

The experience of some women is so pathetic that it needs all one's faith in God not to question the mysteries of His providence. Contem plating some lives one can only humbly wait till the Eternal Light shall shine upon the blurred and darkened pages of histories that seem all disappointment, pain, and weariness of spirit. If God were not our Father as well as our Ruler it would be hard indeed to put our trust in Him, but, being Parent and King, God and Friend, we know that all is well, that by-and-bye all mysteries will be un folded, all perplexities removed, and we shall " know even as we are known," " for He knoweth our frame, He remem bereth that we are dust." Mortimer Montmorency was the eldest son of Marma duke Montmorency, also of Cleavanger House, Broomhill, Easthambury, who was the son of another Montmorency, who had built or rather rebuilt Cleavanger House, the foundations and the name of which had had existence when Easthambury was only a poor fishing hamlet, un known to fame.

The year 1685 was famous throughout Christendom as the year of the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes. Thou sands of families of all grades in society sought safety in flight, and the greater part found refuge in England, where, being despoiled of their possessions, which generally they had been forced to abandon, they were fain to avail them selves of any means of subsistence. One large section of the refugees became manufacturers ; some were silk weavers, and some taught the Saxons to make the hats aud the stuffs of which hitherto France had enjoyed a monopoly. One detachment first planted the vines in the neighbourhood of the Cape of Good Hope, while other of the exiles, made apparently of sterner metal, offered their swords to William of Orange, and fought against their persecutor. Not a few of these self-expatriated men were of noble family.

Among them was one Raymond de Montmorency, the descendant of an ancient and lofty race, but a younger sou of the proud house to which he was allied. He was the only one of his race who had forsaken the faith of his b fathers, and all kinds of dignities and emoluments were offered to him if he would only renounce his Reformed principles and return to the bosom of the Catholic Church. But in vain they sought to tempt one like Raymond Montmorency, or, as the name was then spelt, Montmorenci. He was firm as a rock in the tenets he had embraced, after a long and painful examination; and he gloried in the name of Huguenot. Finding that entreaties, threats, and promises were of no avail, the Montmorencis, who after all were not true Churchmen of the 17th century, inasmuch as they were not given to active persecution, resolved to befriend their recreant kinsman in the only way which lay in their power ; they realised for him a certain sum of money, connived at his escape, and bade him an eternal farewell.

Like other well-born refugees, he did not disdain to engage in commerce in the land of his adoption. He was not penniless, as were too many of his exiled brethren ; he brought with him the means of subsistence, and he might have lived in modest ease and gentlemanly idleness had it so pleased him to live, in accordance with the prejudices of his family, which did not permit that a Montmorency, save as a soldier or a statesman, should labour for pecu niary considerations. But Raymond Montmorency was a heretic in more ways than one. His was a busy, active mind ; his spirit was as indomitable as it was daring, and to settle down in inglorious sloth on a limited though sufficient income was by no means to his taste. In his new country he resolved to begin a new life. The military profession he cordially disliked ; aud as regarded offices of State or Government employments, which would have seemed to be the legitimate resource of one of his rank and abilities, he excluded himself at the very outset from all kinds of public preferment by allying himself, not to the Established Church, but to the Puritan party, who were scorned and spurned by all in power, and looked upon with disfavour by the majority of their countrymen.

A man who determinedly seeks occupation generally succeeds in finding what he seeks ; and accordingly we find from certain records of the Montmorency family that Mr. Raymond became a merchant of renown not many years after his arrival in this country. Towards the close of the century he settled at Easthambury, which was even then fast rising in importance, and carrying on an active trade with the New World. Raymond Montmorency came to Easthambury a husband and a father. He married one of his own country women, Mademoiselle L'Estang, the daughter of an expatriated Poictevin, and the union was said to have been of the very happiest. One son was the issue of this marriage, and he followed dutifully in his father's footsteps, giving himself heart and soul to commerce, and wedding in due season a young lady of good French family, and of decidedly Puritanic principles.

The life of the second Raymond was not so happy as his father's. His marriage was a mistake, and nothing perhaps so entirely mars a man's happiness in this life as committing the irretrievable blunder which unites him to an uncongenial companion. The young Mrs. Montmorency was beautiful, well-born, clever, and witty, but she was haughty, ambitious, and cold-hearted, and her son Mar maduke inherited from her the same unlovely characteris tics, which in his case were intensified and strengthened as years passed on. He, too, married but late in life, and he accumulated great wealth — some people said not quite fairly — and, dying, left to his children — two sons and one daughter — vast sums of money, great possessions in Brazil, and also another inheritance, which had come to be called " the Montmorency Pride."

The eldest of these sons was Mortimer Montmorency, of Cleavanger House, where he reigned in gloomy gran deur ; sole autocrat, and arbiter of fates. His brother Raymond was cast in a different mould ; he was gentle, loving, and devoted to learning : the hard Puritanism to which his family had so long been attached revolted his sensitive and æsthetic nature ; the days of toleration had arrived, and Nonconformity, which had lost all its pristine glow and brilliance, had not yet made any steps towards a higher cultivation, nor striven to reach the standard of refinement even of the eighteenth century. Raymond Montmorency joined the ranks of Episcopacy, to the infinite disgust of his brother Mortimer aud his sister Adela ; but he went his own way, married a lovely girl, the daughter of a country clergyman of no lineage, and saw no more of his own family, who repudiated him on the double score of religious animosity and outraged ancestral pride ; for the fair Emily's father was the son of a Blackingham tradesman, who had scraped together sufficient money to send his only son to Oxford, while his daughters married in their own estate, and became farmeresses and butcher esses according to their luck.

There was not a drop of patrician blood in Emily Slater's veins, and yet Raymond Montmorency, whose pedigree was longer than he cared to measure, and who might, if he chose, quarter arms with the Bourbons themselves, and who could count kin with half the ancient noblesse of France, loved her, and married her, although her grandmother could not write, and in spite of her grandfather, the Blackingham shopkeeper, who wore a white apron, and smoked his pipe m his shirt sleeves at his shop-door on summer evenings, and did all kinds of things forbidden by the code of gentility, though not by the Decalogue. Raymond had the impertinence to argue that he married Emily herself, who was fair to behold, and as modest aud pious a young woman as any in the country, and also well mannered and well educated, according to the standard of feminine education sixty years ago ; and not any grandfather, or grandmother, or aunt, or cousin of them all !

Mortimer never argued ; he never expostulated, as did Adela, the old maid, who failed to find an alliance worthy of her pretensions as a Mont morency and an heiress ; but he set his face in hard, grim lines, when he heard of his brother's plebeian marriage, and simply said — " Henceforward we are disconnected as if we had never been related." " I can never, never forgive him," said Adela, for the brother and sister had met in conclave. Mr. Montmorency's Money. 7 " A Montmorency never forgives !" was the calm, awful rejoinder. It never entered into the minds of this haughty man and woman, I suppose, to imagine that a Montmorency should ever really need forgiveness at a tribunal higher than their own. The issues of the Montmorency- Slater alliance were happy, as far as domestic results were concerned, but they were not prosperous.

The Blackingham shopkeeper died involved, and his son, the clergyman, who knew that his father's difficulties had commenced with the expenses of his own college career, felt it incumbent on him as a Christian and as a gentleman to pay his father's debts. He discharged them to the utmost farthing, and some people called him honourable, while others only called him foolish, and laughed at him for allowing claims which could not be legally enforced. Raymond, as a younger son, had inherited a goodly sum of money and some swampy lands at Cunsey, which he sold to his brother, to be quit of them, for anything that Mortimer would give. It was mere waste land, half swamp and half sand hillocks. It was of no more use to Ray mond than a patch of Sahara, or a barren rock in the middle of the Southern Seas ; and what use Mortimer could make of it was a puzzle to everybody.

But then Mortimer Montmorency never made an unprofitable in vestment in his Hfe, and it was not likely but that in pur chasing the marshes, and tide-pools, and tide-mud, and sand-drifts of Cunsey, he knew quite well what he was about. In fact, after he had purchased his brother's patri mony, he bought adjacent lands — a still more inextricable and dreary waste of mud and reeds and sandy desolation. Could such a spot ever be reclaimed ? asked the wiseacres of Easthambury. Could it be drained for agricultural or building purposes ? And popular opinion, backed by science aud experience, cried " No." Such a Delta as the Cunsey swamps could never be made available for ordinary purposes ! Yet, for all that, everybody felt a certain secret conviction that Mr. Montmorency knew what he was doing, and no one dared to question him on the expediency of his strange investment.

He gave Raymond very little for his lands — if lands, indeed, they could be called which were half salt water ; but then no one else would have given him anything at all, and he was quite content to make so excellent a bargain. Three hundred pounds down was infinitely better than so many acres of swamps, and slimy pools, and fine dry sand, in which nothing but coarse switch grass grew scantily. This transaction, of course, took place before Raymond's marriage ; indeed, it was con cluded shortly after his father's death ; for the young man, who was only Mortimer's half-brother, and his junior by ten years, like the prodigal in the parable, was anxious to take his portion and go into a far country, where he squandered a good deal of his patrimony — not in riotous living, but in antiques, costly bric-a-bracs, rare paintings, and other articles of vertu which so quickly empty a man's pockets, and give him so very little in exchange.

A few years after his marriage, finding his means de creasing, and his liabilities increasing, Raymond Mont morency determined to try his hand at business, and, if possible, rival his brother, whose wealth seemed to grow without any effort — on the principle, no doubt, that "money breeds money." Just as well might a skylark have tried to rival a golden eagle ! Raymond could paint a picture ; he could tell a copy from an original ; he could detect an imposition in the matter of antiques ; and decide between rival connoisseurs as to the probable date of unearthed amphoræ, fibulæ, &c, &c. ; but he was a very child in the hands of the crafty adventurer with whom he risked all the residue of his fortune, save only a very insignificant sum settled on his wife. Raymond was not tried with long and wearying sus pense.

With doubt came speedy confirmation, and ruin as entire as if he had been speculating for half a century. The blow was a heavy one, too heavy for one of his gentle and sensitive temperament. His health had been delicate for years, and the shock developed what his wife had long apprehended— fatal heart disease. His sufferings were severe, but brief. He died six months after the bursting of the bubble, which had been so tempting in his inexperi enced eyes. Nothing remained to his widow but .£300, the price of the Cunsey lands, which he had settled on her prior to their marriage. There were two children, Bevis and Cecily, the sole survivors of a numerous offspring, and Cecily would inherit the whole of her mother's small dower, Raymond declaring that it was too insignificant a sum to be divided, and that boys could rough it for themselves ; in which arrangement the young Bevis him self heartily concurred.

But meanwhile the Cunsey investment was turning out most prosperously. Mr. Montmorency had foreseen that the day would come when the Cunsey side of the river would be wanted for docks. It came even earlier than he had anticipated, and ten years after Raymond sold his waste of mud and sand it began to turn in money more rapidly than the richest soil or the most eligible building site. Every year it increased in value, and when Raymond died the Cunsey docks and wharves, and tall, grim ware houses were yielding Mortimer a handsome fortune, irre spective of all other sources of income ; and as it was a property that must continue to augment in actual worth, there was no knowing what ultimately it might bring in. And Easthambury men wondered they had never thought of investing in the Cunsey marshes, and half-enviously and half-admiringly they contemplated the success of their long-headed, taciturn, proud fellow-townsman.

Raymond knew all about it ; and in his last conversation with his wife he said, " Mortimer ought to yield to our children some small portion of the wealth he has acquired through the blind bargain that I made ; but he never will." And Emily, though she had never seen her brother-in law, responded sadly, " No, he never will." Then a minute afterwards she added cheerfully, " But do not fear, my love ; all will be well. Only get well yourself, Raymond, and nothing shall discourage me. I can bear everything with you and the children." The next evening Raymond Montmorency was dead.

Chapter II. On The Cornice

It was six years after Raymond Montmorency's death, and Emily and her children were living on the Cornice in Italy. Raymond had died at Mentone, and many people there were interested in the still lovely Englishwoman and her two beautiful children ; and they besought her to remain there and live among them when, after her husband's funeral, she talked of returning to her own country and claiming the protection of her kinsfolk at home. " But was it indeed home, over the mountains and be yond the sea in England ? " pleaded Madame Merard, the wife of the French doctor at Roccabruna, and Emily's chief friend. Were there any there to welcome her back to the land of her birth ? Had not her husband's relations treated her cruelly ? Would they receive her if she went to them with her fatherless children ? and would they behave to her as to a kinswoman and an equal ?

Then, again, it took so very little to live on the Cornice in those days ; for it was not yet peopled by the Enghsh, who were sent abroad by the physicians in search of a more genial climate. English people with delicate chests and well filled purses came to Nice and to Cannes ; but not yet were the lovely regions of the Riviera road, otherwise called the Cornice, or Corniche, from its being cut like a ledge or cornice in the rocks over the sea, the popular resort of wealthy invalids. Still there were enough English at Mentone, at Roccabruna, and about the old city of San Remo to make it attractive to a lone Englishwoman who had lived abroad ever since her marriage, and to furnish her with occasional pupils, who paid liberally, and added so much to the very scanty income of Madame Mont rnorenci, as she was generally called, that she and her children were able to live with frugal comfort in a small cottage, perched eyrie-like among the rocks above the shore of balmy, flowery Mentone.

They lived of course very simply, and but for the ab sence of one they all loved from the daily meal, and from their frequent rambles among the mountains and in the dim olive woods and fragrant lemon groves, they would have been as happy as the days were long. Only one thing troubled Madame Montmorenci ; her son could not receive the education which befitted his rank and the position to which he was entitled. On her daughter's account she had fewer anxieties. She could give her a sound English education, and she could make her an accomplished musician. She could teach her to be useful, orderly, and patient, and she could train her in all modest and womanly virtues. As for languages, Cecily spoke both French and Italian, and her English, though slightly marked by foreign accent, was as pure, if not quite as fluent, as if she had been born and bred in the heart of Merrie England.

That would do very well for a girl, she would take her place as Miss Montmorency, whenever the right time should come, with all the grace and ease that would be expected from her as her father's daughter. But for Bevis this was not enough; he ought to receive a gentleman's education, and how could any advantages be secured in these lone mountain regions, where schools and universities there were none — none, at least, which could have imparted sound instructions to the young Montmorency. It was not enough for him to patter French glibly, and to murmur soft Italian cadences ; he ought to be as classical a scholar as his father was before him, and to be familiar with the fine arts generally, and with all modern histories, and all sorts of ancient lore. The boy was clever, and had scholarly tastes, and Raymond Montmorency delighted in being tutor to his son, till trouble and death came hand in hand and put an abrupt conclusion to his loving labours; then for awhile Bevis had no instructor, but he studied by himself, and having at command plenty of books in various languages, and being of a most studious and thoughtful cast of mind, he managed to accumulate immense stores of information, and to acquire an intimate knowledge of things and events which would not have disgraced a veritable savant.

Father Reni, a priest of San Remo, took a particular interest in the handsome English youth who loved learn ing so well, and being also a friend of Madame Mont morenci, he offered to give Bevis some lessons in classical literature. Father Reni was an elderly, book-loving, gentlemanly man, with artistic tastes, and a very tender heart. Cut off from all ties of his own, he soon loved Bevis most paternally, and the two spent many happy hours in the seclusion of the dim, dusty old library of the Palace Borea, where Father Reni was generally to be found when not engaged in the services of the cathedral. All priests of Rome are not crafty, designing, and un true, any more than all English and Protestant parsons are zealous, holy, and devoted to their work. There are many clergymen in the Romish Church whose faults are those of their system — which, without any uncharitable ness, I may say is not as straightforward and above-board as it ought to be, — and of their creed, which certainly favours crooked ways, and a policy which the uninitiated naturally condemn as tortuous and treacherous ; — and not the faults common to hypocrites, traitors, and perverted natuies generally.

Father Reni never tried to convert his young pup When conscience, or perhaps the dictums of his Church reproached him, he contented himself with a mild protest against heresy, and an eloquent laudation of the heavenly superiority of the " true faith." But with the youth's religious principles he never designedly tampered ; indeed, he frequently interposed between the young heretic and those whose zeal for his eternal welfare would have led them to all manner of proselyting wiles. They were those who whispered that the good father himself was no true Catholic, that he was not altogether orthodox, that he held views which might be called broad and liberal, but which were really latitudinarian, dangerous in the extreme, and certainly tending to heresy. Be this as it may, Pietro Reni did his duty by Bevis Mont morency ; he taught him Latin and Greek very thoroughly, but refused to meddle with theology, except on that broad basis of Christian facts on which even Protestant and Romanist may meet.

He imparted what he knew of science, and that was not much ; but quite enough for the simple groundwork which was all that was necessary in the case of a mere lad ; and he opened to his pupil all the treasures of literature, in his own melodious and beloved Lingua Toscana, while he made him an enthusiast in all kinds of Italian music. Pietro Reni, though he was a priest of Rome, was the faithful friend of the widow and the fatherless ; and for all his single-heartedness, his Christian charity, and his manifold works of love and mercy, God has blessed him assuredly. Father Reni died in the communion of the Church in which he had been born and reared ; but that he died in Christ, and is now for ever with his Lord, I cannot doubt. The veil is taken away now ; he sees clearly " face to face ; " perhaps he sees and knows that which would astonish us of a purer faith, who think we know so much, and can interpret so accurately the mind of our Lord Jesus !

Our little systems have their day ; They have their day and cease to be ; They are but broken lights of Thee, And Thou, 0 Lord, art more than they ! " Often and often Madame Montmorency thought of returning to England, feeling it to be a duty to make her children acquainted with their father's country ; but months and years rolled on, and still she lingered in her rocky nest, among the grey olives and the feathery palms, and all around it flowers like living gems, fountains of perennial brightness, and sparkling streams fringed with purple violets, graceful maiden-hair, golden green euphor bias, and hyacinthine blooms. And still her friend Madame Merard said, " Why go away, chere Emilie ? Where will you find a world so fair and sweet, flowers so brilliant and fragrant, sea and sky so blue, and, more than all, friends so faithful ?