Book: Alice, or The Mysteries, Book IV
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Edward Bulwer Lytton >> Alice, or The Mysteries, Book IV
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BOOK IV.
"A virtuous woman is man's greatest pride."--SIMONIDES.
CHAPTER I.
ABROAD uneasy, nor content at home.
. . . . . .
And Wisdom shows the ill without the cure.
HAMMOND: _Elegies_.
TWO or three days after the interview between Lord Vargrave and
Maltravers, the solitude of Burleigh was relieved by the arrival of Mr.
Cleveland. The good old gentleman, when free from attacks of the gout,
which were now somewhat more frequent than formerly, was the same
cheerful and intelligent person as ever. Amiable, urbane, accomplished,
and benevolent, there was just enough worldliness in Cleveland's nature
to make his views sensible as far as they went, but to bound their scope.
Everything he said was so rational; and yet, to an imaginative person,
his conversation was unsatisfactory, and his philosophy somewhat
chilling.
"I cannot say how pleased and surprised I am at your care of the fine old
place," said he to Maltravers, as, leaning on his cane and his
_ci-devant_ pupil's arm, he loitered observantly through the grounds; "I
see everywhere the presence of the Master."
And certainly the praise was deserved. The gardens were now in order,
the dilapidated fences were repaired, the weeds no longer encumbered the
walks. Nature was just assisted and relieved by Art, without being
oppressed by too officious a service from her handmaid. In the house
itself some suitable and appropriate repairs and decorations--with such
articles of furniture as combined modern comfort with the ancient and
picturesque shapes of a former fashion--had redeemed the mansion from all
appearance of dreariness and neglect; while still was left to its quaint
halls and chambers the character which belonged to their architecture and
associations. It was surprising how much a little exercise of simple
taste had effected.
"I am glad you approve what I have done," said Maltravers. "I know not
how it was, but the desolation of the place when I returned to it
reproached me. We contract friendship with places as with human beings,
and fancy they have claims upon us; at least, that is my weakness."
"And an amiable one it is, too,--I share it. As for me, I look upon
Temple Grove as a fond husband upon a fair wife. I am always anxious to
adorn it, and as proud of its beauty as if it could understand and thank
me for my partial admiration. When I leave you I intend going to Paris,
for the purpose of attending a sale of the pictures and effects of M. de
-----. These auctions are to me what a jeweller's shop is to a lover; but
then, Ernest, I am an old bachelor."
"And I, too, am an Arcadian," said Maltravers, with a smile.
"Ah, but you are not too old for repentance. Burleigh now requires
nothing but a mistress."
"Perhaps it may soon receive that addition. I am yet undecided whether I
shall sell it."
"Sell it! sell Burleigh!--the last memorial of your mother's ancestry!
the classic retreat of the graceful Digbys! Sell Burleigh!"
"I had almost resolved to do so when I came hither; then I forswore the
intention: now again I sometimes sorrowfully return to the idea."
"And in Heaven's name, why?"
"My old restlessness returns. Busy myself as I will here, I find the
range of action monotonous and confined. I began too soon to draw around
me the large circumference of literature and action; and the small
provincial sphere seems to me a sad going back in life. Perhaps I should
not feel this, were my home less lonely; but as it is--no, the wanderer's
ban is on me, and I again turn towards the lands of excitement and
adventure."
"I understand this, Ernest; but why is your home so solitary? You are
still at the age in which wise and congenial unions are the most
frequently formed; your temper is domestic; your easy fortune and sobered
ambition allow you to choose without reference to worldly considerations.
Look round the world, and mix with the world again, and give Burleigh the
mistress it requires."
Maltravers shook his head, and sighed.
"I do not say," continued Cleveland, wrapped in the glowing interest of
the theme, "that you should marry a mere girl, but an amiable woman, who,
like yourself, has seen something of life, and knows how to reckon on its
cares, and to be contented with its enjoyments."
"You have said enough," said Maltravers, impatiently; "an experienced
woman of the world, whose freshness of hope and heart is gone! What a
picture! No, to me there is something inexpressibly beautiful in
innocence and youth. But you say justly,--my years are not those that
would make a union with youth desirable or well suited."
"I do _not_ say that," said Cleveland, taking a pinch of snuff; "but you
should avoid great disparity of age,--not for the sake of that disparity
itself, but because with it is involved discord of temper, pursuits. A
_very_ young woman, new to the world, will not be contented with home
alone; you are at once too gentle to curb her wishes, and a little too
stern and reserved--pardon me for saying so--to be quite congenial to
very early and sanguine youth."
"It is true," said Maltravers, with a tone of voice that showed he was
struck with the remark; "but how have we fallen on this subject? let us
change it. I have no idea of marriage,--the gloomy reminiscence of
Florence Lascelles chains me to the past."
"Poor Florence, she might once have suited you; but now you are older,
and would require a calmer and more malleable temper."
"Peace, I implore you!"
The conversation was changed; and at noon Mr. Merton, who had heard of
Cleveland's arrival, called at Burleigh to renew an old acquaintance. He
invited them to pass the evening at the rectory; and Cleveland, hearing
that whist was a regular amusement, accepted the invitation for his host
and himself. But when the evening came, Maltravers pleaded
indisposition, and Cleveland was obliged to go alone.
When the old gentleman returned about midnight, he found Maltravers
awaiting him in the library; and Cleveland, having won fourteen points,
was in a very gay, conversable humour.
"You perverse hermit!" said he, "talk of solitude, indeed, with so
pleasant a family a hundred yards distant! You deserve to be
solitary,--I have no patience with you. They complain bitterly of your
desertion, and say you were, at first, the _enfant de la maison_."
"So you like the Mertons? The clergyman is sensible, but commonplace."
"A very agreeable man, despite your cynical definition, and plays a very
fair rubber. But Vargrave is a first-rate player."
"Vargrave is there still?"
"Yes, he breakfasts with us to-morrow,--he invited himself."
"Humph!"
"He played one rubber; the rest of the evening he devoted himself to the
prettiest girl I ever saw,--Miss Cameron. What a sweet face! so modest,
yet so intelligent! I talked with her a good deal during the deals in
which I cut out. I almost lost my heart to her."
"So Lord Vargrave devoted himself to Miss Cameron?"
"To be sure,--you know they are to be married soon. Merton told me so.
She is very rich. He is the luckiest fellow imaginable, that Vargrave!
But he is much too old for her: she seems to think so too. I can't
explain why I think it; but by her pretty reserved manner I saw that she
tried to keep the gay minister at a distance: but it would not do. Now,
if you were ten years younger, or Miss Cameron ten years older, you might
have had some chance of cutting out your old friend."
"So you think I also am too old for a lover?"
"For a lover of a girl of seventeen, certainly. You seem touchy on the
score of age, Ernest."
"Not I;" and Maltravers laughed.
"No? There was a young gentleman present, who, I think, Vargrave might
really find a dangerous rival,--a Colonel Legard,--one of the handsomest
men I ever saw in my life; just the style to turn a romantic young lady's
head; a mixture of the wild and the thoroughbred; black curls, superb
eyes, and the softest manners in the world. But, to be sure, he has
lived all his life in the best society. Not so his friend, Lord
Doltimore, who has a little too much of the green-room lounge and French
_cafe_ manner for my taste."
"Doltimore, Legard, names new to me; I never met them at the rectory."
"Possibly they are staying at Admiral Legard's, in the neighbourhood.
Miss Merton made their acquaintance at Knaresdean. A good old lady--the
most perfect Mrs. Grundy one would wish to meet with--who owns the
monosyllabic appellation of Hare (and who, being my partner, trumped my
king!) assured me that Lord Doltimore was desperately in love with
Caroline Merton. By the way, now, there is a young lady of a proper age
for you,--handsome and clever, too."
"You talk of antidotes to matrimony; and so Miss Cameron--"
"Oh, no more of Miss Cameron now, or I shall sit up all night; she has
half turned my head. I can't help pitying her,--married to one so
careless and worldly as Lord Vargrave, thrown so young into the whirl of
London. Poor thing! she had better have fallen in love with
Legard,--which I dare say she will do, after all. Well, good-night!"
CHAPTER II.
PASSION, as frequently is seen,
Subsiding, settles into spleen;
Hence, as the plague of happy life,
I ran away from party strife.--MATTHEW GREEN.
Here nymphs from hollow oaks relate
The dark decrees and will of fate.--_Ibid._
ACCORDING to his engagement, Vargrave breakfasted the next morning at
Burleigh. Maltravers at first struggled to return his familiar
cordiality with equal graciousness. Condemning himself for former and
unfounded suspicions, he wrestled against feelings which he could not or
would not analyze, but which made Lumley an unwelcome visitor, and
connected him with painful associations, whether of the present or the
past. But there were points on which the penetration of Maltravers
served to justify his prepossessions.
The conversation, chiefly sustained by Cleveland and Vargrave, fell on
public questions; and as one was opposed to the other, Vargrave's
exposition of views and motives had in them so much of the self-seeking
of the professional placeman, that they might well have offended any man
tinged by the lofty mania of political Quixotism. It was with a strange
mixture of feelings that Maltravers listened: at one moment he proudly
congratulated himself on having quitted a career where such opinions
seemed so well to prosper: at another, his better and juster sentiments
awoke the long-dormant combative faculty, and he almost longed for the
turbulent but sublime arena, in which truths are vindicated and mankind
advanced.
The interview did not serve for that renewal of intimacy which Vargrave
appeared to seek, and Maltravers rejoiced when the placeman took his
departure.
Lumley, who was about to pay a morning visit to Lord Doltimore, had
borrowed Mr. Merton's stanhope, as being better adapted than any
statelier vehicle to get rapidly through the cross-roads which led to
Admiral Legard's house; and as he settled himself in the seat, with his
servant by his side, he said laughingly, "I almost fancy myself naughty
master Lumley again in this young-man-kind of two-wheeled cockle-boat:
not dignified, but rapid, eh?"
And Lumley's face, as he spoke, had in it so much of frank gayety, and
his manner was so simple, that Maltravers could with difficulty fancy him
the same man who, five minutes before, had been uttering sentiments that
might have become the oldest-hearted intriguer whom the hot-bed of
ambition ever reared.
As soon as Lumley was gone, Maltravers left Cleveland alone to write
letters (Cleveland was an exemplary and voluminous correspondent) and
strolled with his dogs into the village. The effect which the presence
of Maltravers produced among his peasantry was one that seldom failed to
refresh and soothe his more bitter and disturbed thoughts. They had
gradually (for the poor are quick-sighted) become sensible of his
_justice_,--a finer quality than many that seem more amiable. They felt
that his real object was to make them better and happier; and they had
learned to see that the means he adopted generally advanced the end.
Besides, if sometimes stern, he was never capricious or unreasonable; and
then, too, he would listen patiently and advise kindly. They were a
little in awe of him, but the awe only served to make them more
industrious and orderly,--to stimulate the idle man, to reclaim the
drunkard. He was one of the favourers of the small-allotment
system,--not, indeed, as panacea, but as one excellent stimulant to
exertion and independence; and his chosen rewards for good conduct were
in such comforts as served to awaken amongst those hitherto passive,
dogged, and hopeless a desire to better and improve their condition.
Somehow or other, without direct alms, the goodwife found that the little
savings in the cracked teapot or the old stocking had greatly increased
since the squire's return, while her husband came home from his moderate
cups at the alehouse more sober and in better temper. Having already
saved something was a great reason why he should save more. The new
school, too, was so much better conducted than the old one; the children
actually liked going there; and now and then there were little village
feasts connected with the schoolroom; play and work were joint
associations.
And Maltravers looked into his cottages, and looked at the
allotment-ground; and it was pleasant to him to say to himself, "I am not
altogether without use in life." But as he pursued his lonely walk, and
the glow of self-approval died away with the scenes that called it forth,
the cloud again settled on his brow; and again he felt that in solitude
the passions feed upon the heart. As he thus walked along the green
lane, and the insect life of summer rustled audibly among the shadowy
hedges and along the thick grass that sprang up on either side, he came
suddenly upon a little group that arrested all his attention.
It was a woman, clad in rags, bleeding, and seemingly insensible,
supported by the overseer of the parish and a labourer.
"What is the matter?" asked Maltravers.
"A poor woman has been knocked down and run over by a gentleman in a gig,
your honour," replied the overseer. "He stopped, half an hour ago, at my
house to tell me that she was lying on the road; and he has given me two
sovereigns for her, your honour. But, poor cretur! she was too heavy for
me to carry her, and I was forced to leave her and call Tom to help me."
"The gentleman might have stayed to see what were the consequences of his
own act," muttered Maltravers, as be examined the wound in the temple,
whence the blood flowed copiously.
"He said he was in a great hurry, your honour," said the village
official, overhearing Maltravers. "I think it was one of the grand folks
up at the parsonage; for I know it was Mr. Merton's bay horse,--he is a
hot 'un!"
"Does the poor woman live in the neighbourhood? Do you know her?" asked
Maltravers, turning from the contemplation of this new instance of
Vargrave's selfishness of character.
"No; the old body seems quite a stranger here,--a tramper, or beggar, I
think, sir. But it won't be a settlement if we take her in; and we can
carry her to the Chequers, up the village, your honour."
"What is the nearest house,--your own?"
"Yes; but we be so busy now!"
"She shall not go to your house, and be neglected; and as for the
public-house, it is too noisy: we must move her to the Hall."
"Your honour!" ejaculated the overseer, opening his eyes.
"It is not very far; she is severely hurt. Get a hurdle, lay a mattress
on it. Make haste, both of you; I will wait here till you return."
The poor woman was carefully placed on the grass by the road-side, and
Maltravers supported her head, while the men hastened to obey his orders.
CHAPTER III.
ALSE from that forked hill, the boasted seat
Of studious Peace and mild Philosophy,
Indignant murmurs mote be heard to threat.--WEST.
MR. CLEVELAND wanted to enrich one of his letters with a quotation from
Ariosto, which he but imperfectly remembered. He had seen the book he
wished to refer to in the little study the day before; and he quitted the
library to search for it.
As he was tumbling over some volumes that lay piled on the writing-table,
he felt a student's curiosity to discover what now constituted his host's
favourite reading. He was surprised to observe that the greater portion
of the works that, by the doubled leaf and the pencilled reference,
seemed most frequently consulted, were not of a literary nature,--they
were chiefly scientific; and astronomy seemed the chosen science. He
then remembered that he had heard Maltravers speaking to a builder,
employed on the recent repairs, on the subject of an observatory. "This
is very strange," thought Cleveland; "he gives up literature, the rewards
of which are in his reach, and turns to science, at an age too late to
discipline his mind to its austere training."
Alas! Cleveland did not understand that there are times in life when
imaginative minds seek to numb and to blunt imagination. Still less did
he feel that, when we perversely refuse to apply our active faculties to
the catholic interests of the world, they turn morbidly into channels of
research the least akin to their real genius. By the collision of minds
alone does each mind discover what is its proper product: left to
ourselves, our talents become but intellectual eccentricities.
Some scattered papers, in the handwriting of Maltravers, fell from one of
the volumes. Of these, a few were but algebraical calculations, or short
scientific suggestions, the value of which Mr. Cleveland's studies did
not enable him to ascertain; but in others they were wild snatches of
mournful and impassioned verse, which showed that the old vein of poetry
still flowed, though no longer to the daylight. These verses Cleveland
thought himself justified in glancing over; they seemed to portray a
state of mind which deeply interested, and greatly saddened him. They
expressed, indeed, a firm determination to bear up against both the
memory and the fear of ill; but mysterious and hinted allusions here and
there served to denote some recent and yet existent struggle, revealed by
the heart only to the genius. In these partial and imperfect
self-communings and confessions, there was the evidence of the pining
affections, the wasted life, the desolate hearth of the lonely man. Yet
so calm was Maltravers himself, even to his early friend, that Cleveland
knew not what to think of the reality of the feelings painted. Had that
fervid and romantic spirit been again awakened by a living object? If
so, where was the object found? The dates affixed to the verses were
most recent. But whom had Maltravers seen? Cleveland's thoughts turned
to Caroline Merton, to Evelyn; but when he had spoken of both, nothing in
the countenance, the manner, of Maltravers had betrayed emotion. And
once the heart of Maltravers had so readily betrayed itself! Cleveland
knew not how pride, years, and suffering school the features, and repress
the outward signs of what pass within. While thus engaged, the door of
the study opened abruptly, and the servant announced Mr. Merton.
"A thousand pardons," said the courteous rector. "I fear we disturb you;
but Admiral Legard and Lord Doltimore, who called on us this morning,
were so anxious to see Burleigh, I thought I might take the liberty. We
have come over quite in a large party,--taken the place by storm. Mr.
Maltravers is out, I hear; but you will let us see the house. My allies
are already in the hall, examining the armour."
Cleveland, ever sociable and urbane, answered suitably, and went with Mr.
Merton into the hall, where Caroline, her little sisters, Evelyn, Lord
Doltimore, Admiral Legard, and his nephew were assembled.
"Very proud to be my host's representative and your guide," said
Cleveland. "Your visit, Lord Doltimore, is indeed an agreeable surprise.
Lord Vargrave left us an hour or so since to call on you at Admiral
Legard's: we buy our pleasure with his disappointment."
"It is very unfortunate," said the admiral, a bluff, harsh-looking old
gentleman; "but we were not aware, till we saw Mr. Merton, of the honour
Lord Vargrave has done us. I can't think how we missed him on the road."
"My dear uncle," said Colonel Legard, in a peculiarly sweet and agreeable
tone of voice, "you forget we came three miles round by the high road;
and Mr. Merton says that Lord Vargrave took the short cut by Langley End.
My uncle, Mr. Cleveland, never feels in safety upon land, unless the road
is as wide as the British Channel, and the horses go before the wind at
the rapid pace of two knots and a half an hour!"
"I just wish I had you at sea, Mr. Jackanapes," said the admiral, looking
grimly at his handsome nephew, while he shook his cane at him.
The nephew smiled; and, falling back, conversed with Evelyn.
The party were now shown over the house; and Lord Doltimore was loud in
its praises. It was like a chateau he had once hired in Normandy,--it
had a French character; those old chairs were in excellent taste,--quite
the style of Francis the First.
"I know no man I respect more than Mr. Maltravers," quoth the admiral.
"Since he has been amongst us this time, he has been a pattern to us
country gentlemen. He would make an excellent colleague for Sir John.
We really must get him to stand against that young puppy who is member of
the House of Commons only because his father is a peer, and never votes
more than twice a session."
Mr. Merton looked grave.
"I wish to Heaven you could persuade him to stay amongst you," said
Cleveland. "He has half taken it into his head to part with Burleigh!"
"Part with Burleigh!" exclaimed Evelyn, turning abruptly from the
handsome colonel, in whose conversation she had hitherto seemed absorbed.
"My very ejaculation when I heard him say so, my dear young lady."
"I wish he would," said Lord Doltimore hastily, and glancing towards
Caroline. "I should much like to buy it. What do you think would be the
purchase-money?"
"Don't talk so cold-bloodedly," said the admiral, letting the point of
his cane fall with great emphasis on the floor. "I can't bear to see old
families deserting their old places,--quite wicked. You buy Burleigh!
have not you got a country seat of your own, my lord? Go and live there,
and take Mr. Maltravers for your model,--you could not have a better."
Lord Doltimore sneered, coloured, settled his neckcloth, and turning
round to Colonel Legard, whispered, "Legard, your good uncle is a bore."
Legard looked a little offended, and made no reply.
"But," said Caroline, coming to the relief of her admirer, "if Mr.
Maltravers will sell the place, surely he could not have a better
successor."
"He sha'n't sell the place, ma'am, and that's poz!" cried the admiral.
"The whole county shall sign a round-robin to tell him it's a shame; and
if any one dares to buy it we'll send him to Coventry."
Miss Merton laughed, but looked round the old wainscot walls with unusual
interest; she thought it would be a fine thing to be Lady of Burleigh!
"And what is that picture so carefully covered up?" said the admiral, as
they now stood in the library.
"The late Mrs. Maltravers, Ernest's mother," replied Cleveland, slowly.
"He dislikes it to be shown--to strangers: the other is a Digby."
Evelyn looked towards the veiled portrait, and thought of her first
interview with Maltravers; but the soft voice of Colonel Legard murmured
in her ear; and her revery was broken.
Cleveland eyed the colonel, and muttered to himself, "Vargrave should
keep a sharp look-out."
They had now finished their round of the show-apartments--which indeed
had little but their antiquity and old portraits to recommend them--and
were in a lobby at the back of the house, communicating with a courtyard,
two sides of which were occupied with the stables. The sight of the
stables reminded Caroline of the Arab horses; and at the word "horses"
Lord Doltimore seized Legard's arm and carried him off to inspect the
animals. Caroline, her father, and the admiral followed. Mr. Cleveland
happened not to have on his walking-shoes; and the flagstones in the
courtyard looked damp; and Mr. Cleveland, like most old bachelors, was
prudently afraid of cold; so he excused himself, and stayed behind. He
was talking to Evelyn about the Digbys, and full of anecdotes about Sir
Kenelm at the moment the rest departed so abruptly; and Evelyn was
interested, so she insisted on keeping him company.
The old gentleman was flattered; he thought it excellent breeding in Miss
Cameron. The children ran out to renew acquaintance with the peacock,
who, perched on an old stirrup-stone, was sunning his gay plumage in the
noon-day.
"It is astonishing," said Cleveland, "how certain family features are
transmitted from generation to generation! Maltravers has still the
forehead and eyebrows of the Digbys,--that peculiar, brooding, thoughtful
forehead, which you observed in the picture of Sir Kenelm. Once, too, he
had much the same dreaming character of mind, but he has lost that, in
some measure at least. He has fine qualities, Miss Cameron,--I have
known him since he was born. I trust his career is not yet closed; could
he but form ties that would bind him to England, I should indulge in
higher expectations than I did even when the wild boy turned half the
heads in Gottingen.