CHAPTER II.
When the colonel came back from his morning’s walk, and was about to prepare to dress for dinner, letters were put into his hand, and among them was one from the Earl of Smatterton to Lord Spoonbill. This of course the gallant officer handed to his lordship, and his lordship eagerly and anxiously broke the seal, and very soon possessed himself of the contents of the letter. And when he had read it he was in a most vehement and lordly passion; he tore it into what romance writers would call a thousand pieces; that is to say, he tore it across and across; and he used unprintable language, and he stamped violently and walked aboutthe room in a violent passion, and almost frightened the poor colonel out of his wits.
It was so very near dinner time that the colonel was quite concerned to see Lord Spoonbill so discomposed; and when the paroxysm of his lordship’s anger was a little abated, and his looks assumed a more “questionable shape,” the colonel ventured in his quiet, placid way, to say “I hope nothing is amiss, my lord?”
“Oh, Crop, Crop!” said his lordship, almost melted to tears by the colonel’s kind sympathy, “I am the most miserable dog that ever lived.”
It hurt the colonel’s feelings most keenly to hear his lordship call himself a dog, and a miserable dog too; and the gallant officer very kindly and tenderly answered, “I hope not, my lord.”
Then his lordship being somewhat consoled, and his grief a little subsiding, went into the particulars of that which caused him so intemperately and thoughtlessly to call himself a miserable dog. “This letter,” said Lord Spoonbill,“is from my father, insisting on my immediate return to London, and ordering me off a hundred miles in another direction, to be elected for a newly-purchased borough.”
Then his lordship spoke so violently and disrespectfully concerning boroughs and parliament, that the colonel, who was a very loyal man, was quite shocked. His lordship expressed also such wishes concerning these valuable articles, as none but the veriest radical would think of expressing in his sober senses.
“I wish I could go for you,” replied the courteous colonel.
“I wish you could,” answered his lordship; but both parties knew that such wish was vain, and so no more was said on that topic. The agitated lover then with restless and uneasy step paced up and down the apartment bewailing, in various established and authorized phrases used on such occasions, his very hard lot. The colonel listened most patiently to these lamentations, and ever and anon he besought his lordship to compose himself. But his lordship listened notto the consoling language of his friend Crop; and it is impossible to say how long this melancholy scene might have continued, had it not been for an interruption arising from the announcement of dinner.
At this sound the colonel aroused himself, and with unusual energy of persuasion besought his lordship to suspend his grief a little while. His lordship was not quite so distressed by the dreadful calamity which had visited him in the shape of a letter from London, as to have lost all appetite for dinner, and he therefore yielded to the friendly persuasions of the gallant colonel, and the two friends were seated at the dinner table.
Colonel Crop was not at any time much addicted to loquacity, but at dinner time he was as mute as a fish; and Lord Spoonbill was not quite so far lost to all consideration as to suffer himself to talk about his sorrows before the servants. But when the cloth was removed and the servants withdrawn, and the gentlemen left to their own talk, the refreshing effects of thedinner were felt by both parties; his lordship became more composed and the colonel more animated. Then the subject was copiously and amply discussed, and many schemes were proposed, to all of which in succession the colonel gave his assent. But this gallant officer was by no means very attentive to the various particulars suggested by the enamoured hereditary legislator. For as the colonel was always assentient to everything which might be said, thought, or done by any of his right honorable feeders, he was not attentive to statements, as if they required any consideration.
After much had been said by Lord Spoonbill as to the most probable means of obtaining possession of the lovely one, and when his lordship’s ingenuity in devising seem to be exhausted, and when Colonel Crop seemed to think that it was necessary that he should say something, then did he in his usual abrupt style of eloquence say: “Perhaps, my lord, I had better bring the lady up to London with me?”
Here we must explain, though it is a great pity that circumstances compel us to state the fact, that this said gallant colonel had previously been employed in that service by other right honorable gentlemen, and therefore he regarded the matter lightly, and thought that he had nothing else to do than state the terms and establishment. But Lord Spoonbill did not apprehend that the lady in question would be so lightly won.
“Ah, Crop!” said his lordship, “you don’t know the lady. She is almost a prude; but I love her the more for her very obstinacy.”
The colonel had some notion of what was meant by a prude; but, according to the best of his recollection, the young lady whom he had seen at Neverden Hall was not mightily prudish in her manners. And then the military man smiled, and replied to his lordship’s observation: “Trust me, if you make an offer of a handsome establishment, I will bring her up to town in a very short time.”
Lord Spoonbill was encouraged greatly by the smile which he saw upon the colonel’s countenance, and began to think that his friend Crop had really some reason for what he had said. And then in the fullness of his heart his lordship went on to say:—
“Crop, my dear friend, you know that, situated as I am now, I can do nothing for you; but it is my full intention, if I can get leave of my father to go over to the other side, and then if Penelope is mine, mine on any terms, you shall be promoted immediately, take my word for it.”
It might have been supposed that the mention of the name of Penelope would have been the means of bringing the colonel to suspect that there was some error in his apprehension; but the truth is, that he paid no very particular attention to the name, and not having the slightest suspicion of the possibility of an error, he never thought of investigating the matter.
The right honorable lover, and his kind friend Crop, had not made a late dinner, andit occurred to Lord Spoonbill that, as it would be a pity to have travelled so many miles without even seeing the young lady, he would pay a visit to the rectory in the evening. His lordship very naturally thought that if it were true, as the colonel brought word from his visit at Neverden, that Mr Darnley had actually and notoriously declined the acquaintance with Penelope, the young lady would by this time have ascertained that fact, and might not be quite so difficult as heretofore. Still, however, his lordship could not quite make up his mind whether to urge his suit merely as at first, or whether he would deliberately offer her his hand and fortune.
As his mind was not able to arrive at a complete decision on that point, he resolved to be governed by circumstances. That was a wise resolution, and most of the species are governed by circumstances, plebeians as well as patricians. We hardly know how it can be avoided.
While his lordship was gone to the rectory,Colonel Crop was occupied at the castle in preparing for his lordship’s journey, which was destined, in obedience to the commands of Lord Smatterton, to take place on the following morning.
Now when Lord Spoonbill drew nigh to the rectory, he could not help recollecting that there had lived such a man as Dr Greendale, and he could not but call to mind the pure and virtuous character of that good man. There came again to the recollection of Lord Spoonbill, the kind and gently-spoken admonitions of that departed friend; and the feelings of his lordship were roused at the remembrance of the solemn scene which he had witnessed, when he saw that good man breathe his last. In these emotions there was enough to disturb his lordship in his pursuit, but not enough to divert him from it.
It was generally allowed by every one who knew him that Mr Darnley, the rector of Neverden, was a very good and a conscientious man, and that as a parish priest he was most exemplaryand active in the discharge of his duties. But there still was in his character a dryness, a hardness, a coldness, a distance, or a something, that rendered virtue not so amiable and contagious in him as in the late Doctor Greendale. Mr Darnley preached most unexceptionable sermons, sound in doctrine, honest in application, always suited to the times, and most admirably adapted to the capacity and comprehension of his hearers. He never talked learnedly in his pulpit to gratify the taste of the great man of his parish, to the neglect of the instruction of the poorer part of his audience. In that, to be sure, there was not much merit, for neither the literature nor the capacity of Sir George Aimwell was much above the level of the farmers and their labourers. In Doctor Greendale however there was something more than a merely unexceptionable style of preaching. It is true indeed, that in consequence of the peculiar employment in which so much of his life was spent, and the theological controversies to which so much of hisattention was directed, he did occasionally introduce into the pulpit controversial and abstract discussions, which were not very intelligible even to himself. But then there was something so morally beautiful and kindly impressive in his whole manner, tone, and deportment, that his hearers used to observe that they always felt themselves the better for hearing him preach, though they could not always understand what he said, or divine the object of his arguments. And let no one despise this feeling; for if good impulses are given to the heart, why should we think slightingly and disrespectfully of the means?
We hardly apologize for the above digression, knowing that those of our readers who are most worth pleasing are gratified and delighted at looking back upon the virtues and amiableness of the late worthy rector of Smatterton. This digression also is serviceable for the purpose of illustrating and explaining the state of mind in which Lord Spoonbill was when he approached the rectory.
The impression produced upon the hereditary legislator was such, that he almost resolved to offer marriage at once, formally and decidedly, thinking that he should thereby cancel all his former transgressions. But when arrived at the rectory, and finding that Mr Primrose was not within, and that Penelope was alone, his lordship, who was rather proud of his own sweet self, began to entertain less respectful thoughts towards the young lady, and to imagine that she must love him for himself alone.
Penelope, at sight of Lord Spoonbill at Smatterton—when she thought, if she thought of him at all, that he was in London—expressed great surprise, which his lordship presently removed by saying, that his visit to the castle was with a view to some alterations and improvements.
As the acquaintance between Robert Darnley and Miss Primrose was now renewed, and as great part of the source of her uneasiness was removed, the vivacity and cheerfulness which in former days had been so becoming an ornamentto her, had now returned; therefore did she seem in the eyes of Lord Spoonbill more lovely than ever. Considering herself now as clearly engaged to Mr Darnley, she no longer regarded Lord Spoonbill as a suitor, and her manner towards him was therefore the less reserved and constrained. All this change in the young lady’s manner was by Lord Spoonbill considered as being a corroboration of the report which Colonel Crop had brought from Neverden.
And now his lordship would have saved himself a great deal of trouble, mortification, and expense, had he renewed, as fifty times in a minute he designed, his suit for the honor of the lady’s hand. For such was Penelope’s simplicity and plainness of spirit that, had his lordship renewed that subject, she would have told him explicitly how insuperable an obstacle was in the way of his hopes. But he thought that there was a possibility and a probability of the speedy return of Mr Primrose, who would of course interrupt the discussion; and he also thoughtif it were possible to possess himself of the young lady without the encumbering ceremony of marriage, it would be so much the better.
His lordship therefore, instead of affecting the sheepishness and sighing of a sentimental lover, endeavoured to make himself agreeable by the fascination of his fluent gabble, and he poured forth a variety of idle prate, which we cannot repeat without the charge of plagiarism. Had a third person been witness of this interview, he might have thought them to be the best friends in the world.
Before Lord Spoonbill had taken his leave, Mr Primrose returned; he had merely been gossipping with his neighbour Kipperson, and the learned Zephaniah Pringle. Mr Primrose, knowing nothing of his lordship’s intentions, and being as unsuspicious as Penelope that he was the person by whose means the correspondence had been interrupted, greeted the hereditary legislator with the utmost cordiality and respect. The father expressed the same surpriseas the daughter had, at the presence of Lord Spoonbill at Smatterton, and received the same lying explanation, and was equally well satisfied with it.
Even had there sprung up in the mind of Mr Primrose any suspicion whatever that his lordship’s visit to Smatterton had any reference to Penelope, that thought would have been immediately removed by Lord Spoonbill saying; “My visit to Smatterton is very short, I arrived yesterday, and I return tomorrow morning.”
“Then we feel ourselves the more honored by this call;” replied Mr Primrose.
His lordship smilingly returned for answer; “You may indeed, Mr Primrose. I have been occupied at the castle all the morning, and you are the only person in the country that I have called upon. I have not even seen my good neighbour, Sir George Aimwell. But I shall leave my friend Colonel Crop at the castle, and he must apologize for me.”
Then after a short pause, with a little hesitation and a slight change of tone, his lordship continued—“Perhaps you will excuse me, Mr Primrose, if I take the liberty to enquire whether you have had any more favourable account of the affairs of your banker, than you had when I had the honor to see you in London?”
Lord Spoonbill asked this question with a tone of voice that indicated great compassion, and seemed to express a hope and earnest wish that the answer might be of a favorable complexion; but it would have been most pleasing to his lordship to hear a long drawn sigh and a lamentable tale of unfortunate losses and painful disappointments. Instead however of a melancholy shake of the head and a dismal story, Mr Primrose said, in reply, “I thank your lordship for your kind enquiries, but I am most happy to inform you that I had taken alarm too soon. I know nothing about the affairs of my banker, and I care but little; for, upon fartherexamination, I found that my agent had not consigned any very large amount to the banker’s keeping.”
“I am exceedingly happy to hear it,” replied his lordship.
That was a lie, and his lordship knew it to be a lie. And his lordship was also perplexed for want of some device by means of which he might carry on his designs against Penelope. There appeared not to be any very definite indications, either favorable or otherwise, if we except, as above mentioned, that there was greater ease and cheerfulness in the young lady’s manner than had been recently manifested. All this his lordship’s vanity placed to his own account; and he took his leave of Mr Primrose and Penelope with great courtesy and remarkable self-satisfaction.