CHAPTER V.
All as yet had been silence at Neverden rectory. Mr Darnley the elder, and Mrs Darnley and the young ladies, all knew as well as could be that Robert had renewed his acquaintance with Miss Primrose; but the father was wilfully and perversely silent on the subject, and the rest of the family felt themselves in duty bound to be silent also.
There is something curious and awkward in a kind of family—not quarrel, but coldness, when the family is not habituated to anything of that nature. Some families always have a species of domestic sparring, or are periodically visited with a fit of family sulks, and then it passesoff very glibly and quietly, and makes no more alteration in, or impression upon, the ordinary family features, than does the light cloud that passes over the moon.
It was not so with the Darnleys. They had always been an united, harmonious, sensible, well conducted family. Mrs Darnley thought her husband to be little short of a conjuror, sure proof that she was none. The young ladies, though they had read Locke’s Essay, De Lolme on the Constitution, and Mitford’s History of Greece, yet thought that their father knew every thing that an honest man ought to know. But the females of the family had of late years begun to divide their intellectual allegiance between the father and son; for Robert had written such “very pretty” letters, and had conveyed to them so much information, that they could not but regard him as a very superior kind of personage. Seeing that the young gentleman had been abroad, it became natural to his mother and sisters to imagine that he must know muchmore than those who had not been abroad; but neither mother nor sisters, with all the advantages which they had derived from the wisdom of the rector of Neverden, had ever found out or even suspected the difference between knowing more and knowing better.
Therefore, when it came to pass that Robert Darnley, contrary to the will and wish of his father, had renewed the acquaintance with Miss Primrose, the ladies knew not which side to take, and so they wisely took neither. What a bustle would be saved at elections, and how quiet would be the House of Commons, if nobody voted but those who knew why they voted.
As the Darnley family was not habituated to coolness or quarrelling, the present fit of silence was very inconvenient. And every day when the family met at breakfast and dinner, they looked at one another most imploringly, as if begging for something beyond the ordinary common-place, unavoidable speaking, whichmust of necessity take place at every table. Mrs Darnley was quite in the fidgets. She tried over and over again, but all to no purpose, to compel her reverend spouse to say something about Smatterton; and fifty times at least, within the space of a very few days, did she almost begin to introduce the discussion by main force, but as often did she retire from the attempt damped and dispirited.
The worthy rector kept up his stately reserve; and every morning did Robert Darnley walk over to Smatterton, and every afternoon did he as regularly return to dine with his family; and though his father knew, or at least strongly conjectured where he had been, yet no mention was made of it.
People who know nothing more about Christianity than what they read in the New Testament, might imagine that a minister of that religion would, in the discharge of his official duties, have met with some sentiment or expression that might have aroused the feelings ofconsideration and forgiveness in his bosom, and have reminded him that silent sulkiness was not one of the Christian graces. But it is far easier to accommodate religion to our caprices, than to regulate our conduct by religion. And Mr Darnley had been so long accustomed to utter a set of words, that he forgot that any meaning was attached to them.
It was not by Mr Darnley the elder, nor by the impatient Mrs Darnley, nor by the knowing Miss Darnleys, that the painful family silence was at last broken; but it was by the plain, straightforward conduct of the young gentleman himself, who became impatient of the miserable restraint which his father’s obstinate humour had imposed upon the family.
One morning at breakfast, when nothing had been said by any one of the family, except about tea and eggs and bread and butter, Robert Darnley said very deliberately and respectfully to his father:
“If you are not engaged this morning, Sir,I shall be glad to have a little conversation with you.”
Mr Darnley the elder anticipated in a moment what was to be the nature of the conversation; but as no intimation to that effect was given by the young gentleman, the father could only say in reply, that he was quite at liberty to hear anything that his son might have to say to him.
Oh, how anxious were the ladies of the family to hear the result of this important meeting! The first congress of the sovereigns composing the holy alliance or spiritual conspiracy, did not excite a greater sensation in the hearts of European subjects or abjects, than did this meditated meeting in the study of Neverden rectory, between father and son, excite in the bosoms of Mrs and the Miss Darnleys.
The meeting took place. The young man had the advantage of self-possession, a clear and definite object, and a fearlessness in the avowal and statement of it. The father had changedhis mind repeatedly between the time of proposing the interview, and that of meeting his son. The rector of Neverden had previously made up his mind to silence; but not anticipating that the young man would break the silence, was not prepared with any set mode of conduct, or any definite reply to anything that might be said. The father had already perceived that the young man was resolute and decisive, therefore it was no easy matter to meet the resoluteness of actual power by the pompousness of an empty and bygone authority. Mr Darnley knew that his son would have his own way; and with all the austerity which the rector of Neverden could possibly assume, he entered upon the conference.
The young gentleman very unaffectedly and calmly entered upon the subject, and respectfully said to his father: “It gives me great uneasiness, Sir, to observe that my acquaintance with Miss Primrose, which formerly was so pleasant and acceptable, should now be themeans of throwing a damp over the spirits of all the family.”
Mr Robert Darnley was in hopes that to this introduction his father would make some reply, explanatory of his reasons for having so pertinaciously frowned his disapprobation. But the rector was silent, and turned away his face and looked out at the window, as much as to intimate that he was perfectly indifferent to anything which the young gentleman might be pleased to say upon that topic. But this kind of procedure was not only disrespectful and unhandsome towards his son, but was not consistent with the respect which the reverend gentleman owed to himself. And Robert Darnley was now at an age to be treated like a rational and reflecting being, and it was by no means proper and decorous to behave towards him in this cavalier style.
It is a great pity that many very good and virtuous men do sometimes so far forget themselves, as to yield more readily to the impulsesof caprice, than to the sober dictates of judgment. And when in anything like a quarrel, dispute, or diversity of opinion, an elder gives way to improper feelings, he thereby loses so much of the natural dignity and advantage which age would otherwise have given him, and sinks to, or even below, the level of the younger.
So situated was the elder Darnley on this occasion; and his situation was truly lamentable. He had set up an opposition to his son’s inclinations, and he had not the power to carry forward the opposition triumphantly and successfully, nor had he the wisdom and discretion to make a speedy and prudent retreat. There would have been a great saving of painful feeling if, when he saw that his opposition was and must be fruitless, he had gently given way. He now felt the awkwardness of the position in which he had obstinately placed himself, and the young man also felt that he had an advantageover his father, which advantage he could not but use, yet he used it gently and gracefully.
Modulating his voice to its mildest tone, and taking by gentle force his father’s hand, the young man said:
“If, sir, you will not speak to me, will you hear me?”
The father’s eyelids moved rapidly and his lips were compressed, and he said with something of an effort, “Certainly.”
“Then, sir,” replied the young man, “I must say that, while I am grieved that you should regard Miss Primrose with such altered feelings, since I feel myself satisfied that her conduct has been perfectly correct, and that her mind is pure, I consider that I am so much bound by the engagement which was made some years ago, as if our correspondence had never been interrupted. I am convinced by the most unequivocal testimony that Miss Primrose did not decline the correspondence, and that her situation in London,under the patronage of the Countess of Smatterton, was altogether involuntary and painful. The reports which have been circulated here concerning the young lady, are not only absolutely false, but they have not even the shadow of a foundation. They are altogether a malicious invention, and that for the vilest of purposes.”
Mr Darnley the elder here shook his head, and directed to his son a look of compassion, and a smile of incredulity, and said; “Foolish boy! How easily those artful people can impose upon your ignorance and simplicity.”
Robert Darnley returned the smile of incredulity and said; “But I have other evidence than that of Miss Primrose or her father.”
The father impatiently interrupted his son, and with pomposity replied; “Young man, have I not eyes to see, ears to hear, and understanding to discern? I speak of what I know. My objection against this young woman is not from hearsay. I offered her an asylum in thishouse, an asylum of comfort and of respectability. She was graceless enough to refuse it. She preferred to throw herself upon the patronage of the Countess of Smatterton, and to adopt the profession of a public singer, a proceeding against which her most worthy uncle the late Dr Greendale so seriously and repeatedly cautioned her. That was not well done. It was not reputable; it was not treating that good man’s memory with proper respect. It was explicitly renouncing all connexion with my family; for she could not imagine that, after such conduct, any of us should be weak enough to take notice of her again.”
“But, my dear father,” mildly interrupted Robert Darnley, “as our correspondence was intercepted, might not Miss Primrose imagine that I had ceased to regard her with affection, and might she not suppose that the intention of renouncing was on my part, and how then could she with any propriety accept of the asylum which you were kind enough to offer her? Indeed,sir, I am well acquainted with all the circumstances, and I am sure that if you would make enquiries, you would find that Miss Primrose has uniformly and invariably behaved with the utmost propriety.”
The young man was young indeed, to imagine that such logic as this could have any influence on his father’s mind, or lead to the slightest change in his feelings and views. This gentleness of expostulation had a tendency rather to render the rector’s prejudice more inveterate; and this the young gentleman perceived when he heard his father reply:
“I beg, child, that you would not talk so ridiculously. Do you think I am weak enough to be imposed upon as you have been, and to be persuaded out of my senses? I tell you plainly and positively that I will never give my consent or approbation to your marriage with Miss Primrose; but you may do as you please, you are of age.”
The young man at this speech felt that logicwas superfluous, and that no evidence could convince a wilfully-closed eye. Therefore seeing that nothing was left him but the most positive and decided obstinacy, he as conclusively replied:
“Then, sir, I am very sorry that I must express my determination under such unpleasant circumstances; but, since you will not be persuaded, I must say that it is my fixed determination to marry Miss Primrose very shortly; the day is not absolutely fixed, but it will not be at any great distance of time.”
Then the rector trembled and turned pale, and he endeavoured to fix his eyes sternly and reproachfully on his son, but the agitation of his mind was too great to leave him any power or command over his muscles, or even to suffer him to speak. And instead of fixing a look of sternness on his son, he looked at him wildly and unmeaningly, and his lips moved, but they uttered no articulate sound. And the young man was grieved and terrified at these hideous symptomsof ungovernable and overwhelming anger. He rose therefore hastily from his seat and again grasped his father’s hand, not gently and persuasively as before, but with an agitation almost as great as that which he was desirous of subduing. The movement a little recalled the consciousness of the agitated parent, and when Robert Darnley was just about to speak, his father hastily and loudly exclaimed; “Peace, boy, peace! not another word, unless you wish to break your father’s heart!”
The young man was wise enough to keep his lips closed. But he was painfully distressed at the visible effect which had been produced upon his father. He therefore sat down again watching the countenance of his angry parent, and almost wishing that he had not been so positive. After a few minutes had elapsed the elder Darnley regained his self-possession, and expressed to his son a wish to be left alone.
Robert Darnley obeyed the intimation and retired. He did not dare say a word more on thesubject of their interview, and he was greatly perplexed as to what steps he should take. For it had been his decided intention to go over to Smatterton on this very morning, for the purpose of making a final arrangement. He had never before seen his father, or indeed any one else, under the influence of such powerful feelings. He thought that if he should go to Smatterton now, such an overt act of rebellion would be too much for his father’s agitated nerves to bear, and might be productive of serious consequences. Instead therefore of going to Smatterton, he sought his mother and sisters, and gratified their curiosity by informing them of all the particulars of his interview with his father.
Now, though the ladies of the family were not most amicably disposed towards Miss Primrose, they more easily yielded to the logic and eloquence of Robert Darnley than his father had done. They were pleased that their lips were set at liberty to speak on the subject; for it is very unpleasant when in a family there isa forced silence, or a prohibition to speak on any particular subject. They listened very attentively to the history which the young gentleman gave them of the treachery of the letter-carrier, and they one and all lifted up their hands and eyes in mute astonishment at the wickedness of Lord Spoonbill.
But when Robert Darnley gave them an account of what poor Penelope had suffered, and how reluctantly she had been dragged up to London, and how destitute and friendless she had felt herself before she had given her consent to the favorite scheme of the Countess of Smatterton, then did they pity her, and they began to blame themselves that they had ever thought unworthily of her. And then they did all express the most sincere and hearty wishes and hopes that Mr Darnley the elder would soon be reconciled, and they thought and said how happy they should be to renew the acquaintance with Penelope.
Mrs Darnley went so far as to say that shewould take the earliest opportunity of calling upon Miss Primrose; but it was presently suggested by the rest of the party, that such a measure would not be most advisable in present circumstances.
“Or, at all events,” said Robert Darnley, “if you were to call, it would be desirable that you should let Mr Primrose and Penelope understand that your visit is made without my father’s knowledge.”
This remark the young gentleman made, because he knew that Penelope would expect him, inasmuch as he had at his last visit to Smatterton confidently said, that he so well knew his father’s temper that he was satisfied that all objection would disappear very speedily when the real state of the case should be made known. The young man however had not rightly calculated on the power of prejudice and the force of obstinate and wilful blindness.
Now, though Mrs Darnley was the best tempered woman in the world, and was disposed todo any one a service, yet she had in a very high degree the gift of clumsiness, and was quite as likely to do harm as good, notwithstanding her very best and sincerest intentions. The young ladies therefore dissuaded their mother from her proposal; but when they understood that their brother was especially anxious just at this time to see Penelope, or at least to send some message to her, and that it would be exceedingly hazardous that he should go at the present juncture, they proposed that they would take a walk to Smatterton, and endeavour as it were, by accident, to fall in with Penelope. The young gentleman was pleased with the offer and accepted it.