"Behind a frowning ProvidenceHe hides a smiling face!Blind unbelief is sure to err,And scan His works in vain!God is His own interpreter,And He will make it plain!"
"Behind a frowning ProvidenceHe hides a smiling face!Blind unbelief is sure to err,And scan His works in vain!God is His own interpreter,And He will make it plain!"
"Therefore, O my God!" thought Aubrey, as he gazed upon the lovely scenes familiar to him from his birth, and from which a few short hours were to separate him forever, "I do acknowledge Thy hand in what has befallen me, and Thy mercy which enables me to bear it, as from Thee." The scene around him was tranquil and beautiful—inexpressibly beautiful. He stood under the shadow of a mighty elm-tree, the last of a long and noble avenue, which he had been pacing in deep thought for upwards of an hour. The ground was considerably elevated above the level of the rest of the park. No sound disturbed the serene repose of the approaching evening, except the distant and gradually diminishing sounds issuing from an old rookery, and the faint low bubbling of a clear streamlet which flowed not far from where he stood. Here and there, under the deepening shadows cast by the lofty trees, might be seen the glancing forms of deer, the only live things visible. "Life," said Aubrey, to himself, with a sigh, as he leaned against the trunk of the grand old tree under which he stood, and gazed with a fond and mournful eye on the lovely scenes stretching before him, to which the subdued radiance of the departing sunlight communicated a tone of tender pensiveness; "life is, in truth, what the Scripture—what the voice of nature—representsit—a long journey, during which the traveller stops at many resting places. Some of them are more, others less beautiful; from some he parts with more, from others with less regret; butpart he must, and pursue his journey, though he may often turn back to gaze with lingering fondness and admiration at the scene which he has last quitted. The next stage may be—as all his journey might have been—bleak and desolate; but, throughthathe is only passing: he will not be condemned to stay in it, as he was not permitted to dwell in the other; he is still journeying on, along a route which he cannot mistake, to the point of his destination, his journey's end—the shores of the vast, immeasurable, boundless ocean of eternity—HIS HOME!"
The deepening shadows of evening warned him to retrace his steps to the Hall. Before quitting the spot upon which he had been so long standing, he turned his head a little towards the right, to take a last view of an object which called forth tender and painful feeling—it was the old sycamore which his sister's intercession had saved from the axe. There it stood, feeble and venerable object! its leafless silvery-gray branches becoming in the fading light, dim and indistinct, yet contrasting touchingly with the verdant strength of those near it. A neat strong fence had been placed around it; but how much longer would it receive such care and attention? Aubrey thought of the comparison which had on a former occasion been made by his sister; and sighed heavily as he looked his last at the old tree. Then he slowly walked on towards the Hall. When about halfway down the avenue, he beheld two figures apparently approaching him, but undistinguishable in the gloom and the distance. As they neared him, he recognized Lord De la Zouch, and Mr. Delamere. Suspecting the object of their visit, which a little surprised him, since they had taken a final leave, and a very affectingone, the day before, he felt a little anxiety and embarrassment. Nor was he entirely mistaken. Lord De la Zouch, who advanced alone towards Aubrey—Mr. Delamere turning back—most seriously pressed his son's suit for the hand of Miss Aubrey, as he had often done before; declaring, that though undoubtedly he wished a year or two first to elapse, during which his son might complete his studies at Oxford, there was no object dearer to the heart of Lady De la Zouch and himself, than to see Miss Aubrey become their daughter-in-law. "Where," said Lord De la Zouch, with much energy, "is he to look elsewhere for such an union of beauty, of accomplishments, of amiability, of high-mindedness?" After a great deal of animated conversation on this subject, during which Mr. Aubrey assured Lord De la Zouch thathewould say everything which he honorably could to induce his sister to entertain, or at all events, not to discard the suit of Delamere; at the same time reminding him of the firmness of her character, and the hopelessness of attempting to change any determination to which she might have been led by her sense of delicacy and honor,—Lord De la Zouch addressed himself in a very earnest manner to matters more immediately relating to the personal interests of Mr. Aubrey; entered with lively anxiety into all his future plans and purposes; and once more pressed upon him the acceptance of most munificent offers of pecuniary assistance, which, with many fervent expressions of gratitude, Aubrey again declined. But he pledged himself to communicate freely with Lord De la Zouch, in the event of an occasion arising for such assistance as his Lordship had already so generously volunteered. By this time Mr. Delamere had joined them, regarding Mr. Aubrey with infinite earnestness and apprehension. All, however, he said, was—and in a hurried manner to his father—"My mother is waiting for you in the carriage, and wishes thatwe should immediately return." Lord De la Zouch and his son again took leave of Mr. Aubrey. "Remember, my dear Aubrey, remember the pledges you have repeated this evening," said the former. "I do, I will!" replied Mr. Aubrey, as they each wrung his hands; and then, having grasped those of Lady De la Zouch, who sat within the carriage powerfully affected, the door was shut; and they were quickly borne away from the presence and the residence of their afflicted friends. While Mr. Aubrey stood gazing after them, with folded arms, in an attitude of melancholy abstraction, at the Hall door, he was accosted by Dr. Tatham, who had come to him from the library, where he had been, till a short time before, busily engaged reducing into writing various matters which had been the subject of conversation between himself and Mr. Aubrey during the day.
"I am afraid, my dear friend," said the doctor, "that there is a painful but interesting scene awaiting you. You will not, I am sure, forbear to gratify, by your momentary presence in the servants' hall, a body of your tenantry, who are there assembled, having come to pay you—good souls!—their parting respects."
"I would really rather be spared the painful scene," said Mr. Aubrey, with emotion. "I am nearly unnerved as it is! Cannot you bid them adieu, in my name? and say God bless them!"
"Youmustcome, my dear friend! If itbepainful, it will be but for a moment; and the recollection of their hearty and humble expressions of affection and respect will be pleasant hereafter. Poor souls!" he added with not a little emotion, "you should see how crowded is Mr. Griffiths' room with the presents they have each brought you, and which would surely keep your whole establishment for months!—Cheeses, tongues, hams, bacon, and I know not what beside!"
"Come, Doctor," said Mr. Aubrey, quickly, and with evidently a great effort, "I will see them, my humble and worthy friends! if itbebut for a moment; but I would rather have been spared the scene." He followed Dr. Tatham into the spacious servants' hall, which he found nearly filled by some forty or fifty of his late tenantry, who, as he entered, rose in troubled silence to receive him. There were lights, by which a hurried glance sufficed to show him the deep sorrow visible in their countenances. "Well, sir," commenced one of them, after a moment's hesitation—he seemed to have been chosen the spokesman of those present—"we've come to tak' our leave; and a sad time it be for all of us, and it may be, sir, for you." He paused, and added abruptly—"I thought I could have said a word or two, sir, in the name of all of us, but I've clean forgotten all; and I wish we could all forget that we were come to part with you, sir;—but we sha'n't—no, never!—we shall never see your like again, sir! God help you, sir!" Again he paused, and struggled hard to conceal his emotions. Then he tried to say something further, but his voice failed him.
"Squire, it may be law; but it be not justice, we all do think, that hath taken Yatton from you, that was born to it," said one, who stood next to him who had first spoken. "Who ever heard o' a scratch in a bit of paper signifying the loss o' so much? It never were heard of afore, sir, an' cannot be right!"
"You'll forgive me, Squire," said another, "but we shall never tak' to t'new one that's coming after you!"
"My worthy—my dear friends," commenced Mr. Aubrey, with melancholy and forced composure, as he stood beside Dr. Tatham, "this is a sad trial to me—one which I had not expected, and am quite unprepared for. I have had lately to go through many very painful scenes;but few more so than the present. My dear friends, I can only say from my heart, God bless you all! I shall never forget you, whom I have always respected, and indeed been very proud of, as my tenantry, and whom I now, of course, look at as my friends only. We shallneverforget you"——
"Lord Almighty bless you, sir, and Madam and Miss, and little Miss—and the little squire!" said a voice, in a vehement manner, from amid the throng, in tones which went to Mr. Aubrey's heart. His lips quivered, and he ceased speaking for some moments. At length he resumed.
"You see my feelings are a little shaken by the sufferings which I have gone through. I have only a word more to say to you. Providence has seen fit, my friends, to deprive me of that which I had deemed to be my birthright. God is good and wise; and I bow, as we must all bow, to His will with reverence and resignation. And also, my dear friends, let us always submit cheerfully to the laws under which we live. We must not quarrel with their decision, merely because it happens to be adverse to our own wishes. I, from my heart—and so must you, from yours—acknowledge a firm, unshaken allegiance to the laws; they are ordained by God, and He demands our obedience to them! society cannot exist without them"—He paused. "I have to thank you," he presently added in a subdued tone, "my worthy friends, for many substantial tokens of your good-will, brought with you this evening. I assure you sincerely that I value them far more"—he paused, and it was some moments before he could proceed—"than if they had been of the most costly and splendid description"——
"Lord, only hearken to t'squire!" called out a voice, as if on an impulse of eager affection, which its rough, honest speaker could not resist. This seemed entirely todeprive Mr. Aubrey of the power of utterance, and he turned suddenly towards Dr. Tatham with an overflowing eye and a convulsive quivering of the lips which showed the powerful emotions with which he was contending. The next moment he stepped forward and shook hands with those nearest. He was quickly surrounded, and every one present grasped his hands, scarcely any of them able to utter more than a brief but fervent "God bless you, sir!"
"I am sure, my friends," said Dr. Tatham, almost as much affected as any of them, "that you cannot wish to prolong so afflicting a scene as this. Mr. Aubrey is much exhausted, and has a long journey to take early in the morning—and you had better now leave."
"Farewell! farewell, my kind and dear friends, farewell!—May God bless you all, and all your families!" said Mr. Aubrey; and, most powerfully affected, withdrew from a scene which he was not likely ever to forget. He retired, accompanied by Dr. Tatham, to his library; where Mr. Griffiths, his steward, was in readiness to receive his signature to various documents. This done, the steward, after a few hurried expressions of affection and respect, withdrew; and Mr. Aubrey had then completed all the arrangements, and transacted all the business, which had required his attention before quitting Yatton: which, at an early hour in the morning, he was going to leave; having determined to go direct to London, instead of accepting any of the numerous offers which he had received from his friends in the neighborhood, to take up with them his abode for, at all events, some considerable period. That, however, would have been entirely inconsistent with the plans for his future life, which he had formed and matured. He left the whole estate in admirable order and condition. There was not a farm vacant, not a tenant dissatisfied with the terms under which he held.Every document, all the accounts connected with the estate, after having been carefully examined by Mr. Parkinson, and Mr. Aubrey, and Mr. Griffiths, were in readiness for the most scrupulous and searching investigation on the part of Mr. Aubrey's successor and his agents.
Mr. Aubrey's library was already carefully packed up, and was to follow him, on the ensuing day, to London, by water, as also were several portions of the furniture—the residue of which was to be sold off within a day or two's time. How difficult—how very difficult had it been for them to choose which articles they would part with, and which retain! The favorite old high-backed easy-chair, which had been worked by Miss Aubrey herself; the beautiful ebony cabinet, which had been given by her father to her mother, who had given it to Kate; the little chairs of Charles and Agnes—and in which Mr. Aubrey and Kate, and all their brothers and sisters—long since deceased—had sat when children; Mrs. Aubrey's piano; these, and a few other articles, had been successfully pleaded for by Mrs. Aubrey and Kate, and were to accompany or rather follow them to London, instead of passing, by the auctioneer's hammer, into the hands of strangers. The two carriage-horses, which had drawn old Mrs. Aubrey in the family coach for many years, were to be turned to grass, for the rest of their days, at Lady Stratton's. Poor old Peggy was, in like manner, to have to herself a little field belonging to Dr. Tatham. Little Charles's pony, a beautiful animal, and most reluctantly parted with, was sent as a present, in his name, to little Sir Harry Oldfield, one of his play-fellows. Hector, the magnificent Newfoundland dog, was, at the vehement instance of Pumpkin, the gardener, who had almost gone upon his knees to beg for the animal, and declared that he loved the creature like a son—as I verily believe he did, for they were inseparable, and their attachment was mutual—given upto him, on his solemn promise to take great care of him. Then there was a poor animal which they hardly knew how to dispose of. It was a fine old favorite staghound, stone-blind, quite gray about the head, and so very feeble, that it could but just crawl in and out of its commodious kennel, and lie basking in the genial sunshine; wagging its tail when any one spoke to it, and affectionately licking the hand that patted it. Thus had it treated Mr. Aubrey, that very morning, as he stood by, and stooped down to caress it for the last time. It was, at his earnest request, assigned to Dr. Tatham, kennel and all; indeed the worthy little doctor would have crammed the whole of his little premises in a similar way, in order to have the more "keepsakes" and "memorials" of his friends. Miss Aubrey's beautiful Blenheim spaniel, with its brilliant black eyes, and long glossy graceful ears, was to accompany her to London.
As for the servants—the housekeeper was going to keep the house of her brother, a widower, at Grilston, and the butler was going to marry, and quit service. As for the rest, Mr. Parkinson had, at Mr. Aubrey's desire, written about them to Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap; and Mr. Gammon had sent word that such members of the establishment as chose, might continue at Yatton, at all events till the pleasure of Mr. Titmouse, upon the subject, should have been known. All the servants had received a quarter's wages that morning from Mr. Griffiths, in the presence of Mr. Aubrey, who spoke kindly to each, and earnestly recommended them to conduct themselves respectfully towards his successor. Scarce any of them could answer him, otherwise than by an humble bow, or courtesy, accompanied by sobs and tears. One of them did contrive to speak, and passionately expressed a wish that the first morsel Mr. Titmouse ate in the house might choke him—a sally which received sovery grave a rebuke from Mr. Aubrey, as brought the hasty offender to her knees, begging forgiveness; which, I need hardly say, she received, but with a very serious admonition. Many of them most vehemently entreated to be allowed to accompany Mr. Aubrey and his family to London, and continue in their service, but in vain. Mr. Aubrey had made his selection, having taken only his own valet, and Mrs. Aubrey's maid, and one of the nursery-maids, and declaring that on no consideration would he think of being accompanied by any other of the servants.
There were some twenty or thirty poor old infirm cottagers, men and women, who had been for years weekly pensioners on the bounty of Yatton, and respecting whom Mr. Aubrey felt a painful anxiety. What could he do? He gave the sum of fifty pounds to Dr. Tatham for their use; and requested him to press their claims earnestly upon the new proprietor of Yatton. He also wrote almost as many letters, as there were of these poor people, on their behalf to his friends and neighbors. Oh, it was a moving scene which had occurred at each of their little cottages, when their benefactors, Mr. Aubrey, his wife, and sister, severally called to bid them farewell, and receive their humble and tearful blessings! But it was the parting with her school, which neither Kate nor her brother saw any probability of being kept up longer than for a month or two after their departure, which had occasioned Kate the greatest distress. There were several reasons, which will occur to the reader, why no application could be made, about the matter, from her, or on her account, to Mr. Titmouse; even if she had not had reason to anticipate, from what she had heard of his character, that he was a person unlikely to feel any interest in such an institution. Nor had she liked to trouble or burden the friends whom she left behind her, with theresponsibility of supporting and superintending her little establishment. She had nothing for it, therefore, but to prepare the mistress, and her scholars, for the breaking up of the school, within a month of her departure from Yatton. She gave the worthy woman, the mistress, a present of a five-pound note; and five shillings to each of the children. She felt quite unequal to the task of personally taking leave of them, as she had intended, and several times attempted. She therefore, with many tears, wrote the following lines, and gave them to Dr. Tatham, to read aloud in the school, when their good and beautiful writer should be far on her way towards London. The little doctor paused a good many times while he read it, and complained of his glasses.
"My dear little girls,—You know that I have already bid each of you good-by; and though I tried to say something to all of you at once, I was not able, because I was so sorry to part with you, and tell you that my little school must be given up. So I have written these few lines, to tell you that I love you all, and have tried to be a good friend to you. Be sure not to forget your spelling and reading, and your needle. Your mothers have promised to hear you say your catechisms; you must also be sure to say your prayers, and to read your Bibles, and to behave very seriously at church, and to be always dutiful to your parents. Then God will bless you all! I hope you will not forget us, for we shall often think of you when we are a great way off; and Dr. Tatham will now and then write and tell us how you are going on. Farewell, my dear little girls; and may God bless and preserve you all! This is the prayer of both of us—Mrs. Aubrey and"Catherine Aubrey."Yatton, 15th May 18—."
"My dear little girls,—You know that I have already bid each of you good-by; and though I tried to say something to all of you at once, I was not able, because I was so sorry to part with you, and tell you that my little school must be given up. So I have written these few lines, to tell you that I love you all, and have tried to be a good friend to you. Be sure not to forget your spelling and reading, and your needle. Your mothers have promised to hear you say your catechisms; you must also be sure to say your prayers, and to read your Bibles, and to behave very seriously at church, and to be always dutiful to your parents. Then God will bless you all! I hope you will not forget us, for we shall often think of you when we are a great way off; and Dr. Tatham will now and then write and tell us how you are going on. Farewell, my dear little girls; and may God bless and preserve you all! This is the prayer of both of us—Mrs. Aubrey and
"Catherine Aubrey.
"Yatton, 15th May 18—."
The above was not written in the uniform and beautiful hand usual with Miss Aubrey; it was, on the contrary, rather irregular, and evidently written hastily; but Dr.Tatham preserved it to the day of his death, and always thought it beautiful.
On the ensuing morning, at a very early hour, Dr. Tatham left the vicarage, to pay his last visit to friends whom it almost broke his heart to part with, in all human probability forever. He started, but on a moment's reflection ceased to be surprised, at the sight of Mr. Aubrey approaching him from the direction of the little churchyard. He was calm, but his countenance bore the traces of very recent emotion. They greeted each other in silence, and so walked on for some time, arm-in-arm, slowly, towards the Hall. It was a dull heavy morning, almost threatening rain. The air seemed full of oppression. The only sounds audible were the hoarse clamorous sounds issuing from the old rookery, at some distance on their left. Mr. Aubrey and Dr. Tatham interchanged but few words, as they walked along the winding pathway to the Hall. The first thing which attracted their eyes, after passing under the gateway, was the large old family carriage, standing opposite the Hall door, where stood some luggage, sufficient for the journey, ready to be placed upon it; the remainder having been sent on the day before to London. How mournful was the sight! On entering the Hall, they found its heart-broken inmates all up, and dressed. The children were taking their last breakfast in the nursery; Charles making many inquiries of the weeping servants, which they could answer only by tears and kisses. In vain was the breakfast-table spread for the senior travellers. There sat poor Kate, in travelling trim, before the antique silver urn, attempting to perform, with tremulous hand, her accustomed office; but neither she, nor Mrs. Aubrey, was equal to the task; which, summoning the housekeeper into the room, they devolved upon her, and which she was scarce able to perform. Mr. Aubrey and Dr. Tatham were standing there;but neither of them spoke. A short time before, Mr. Aubrey had requested the servants to be summoned, as usual, to morning prayer in the accustomed room, and requested Dr. Tatham to officiate. As soon, however, as the sorrowful little assemblage was collected before him, he whispered to Mr. Aubrey that he felt unequal to go through the duty with the composure which it required; and after a pause, he said, "Let us kneel down;" and in a low voice, often interrupted by his own emotions, and the sobs of those around him, he read, with touching simplicity and solemnity, the ninety-first psalm; adding the Lord's prayer, and a very tremulous benediction.
The bitter preparations for starting at an early hour, seven o'clock, were soon afterwards completed. Half smothered with the kisses and caresses of the affectionate servants, little Charles and Agnes were already seated in the carriage, on the laps of their two attendants, exclaiming eagerly, "Come, papa! come, mamma! What a while you are!" Just then, poor Pumpkin, the gardener, scarce able to speak, made his appearance, his arms full of nosegays, which he had been culling for the last two hours—having one a-piece for each of the travellers, servants, and children, and all. The loud angry bark of Hector was heard from time to time, little Charles calling loudly for him; but Pumpkin had fastened him up, for fear of his starting off after the carriage. At length, having scarcely tasted breakfast, the travellers made their appearance at the Hall door. Kate and Mrs. Aubrey were utterly overcome at the sight of the carriage, and wept bitterly. They threw their arms passionately around, and fervently kissed, their venerable friend and pastor, Dr. Tatham, who was grievously agitated. Then they tore themselves from him, and hastily got into the carriage. As he stood alone, bareheaded, on their quitting him, he lifted his hands, but could scarceutter a parting benediction. Mr. Aubrey, almost overpowered with his emotions, then grasped his hand, whispering, "Farewell, my dear and venerable friend! Farewell!" "The Lord God of thy fathers bless thee!" murmured Dr. Tatham, clasping Mr. Aubrey's hand in both of his own, and looking solemnly upward. Mr. Aubrey, taking off his hat, turned towards him an unutterable look: then, waving his hand to the group of agitated servants standing within and without the door, he stepped into the carriage; the door was shut; and they rolled slowly away. Outside the park gates were collected more than a hundred people, to bid them farewell—all the men, when the carriage came in sight, taking off their hats. The carriage stopped for a moment. "God bless you all! God bless you!" exclaimed Mr. Aubrey, waving his hand, while from each window was extended the white hand of Kate and Mrs. Aubrey, both of which were fervently kissed and shaken by those who were nearest. Again the carriage moved on; and quickening their speed, the horses soon bore them out of the village. Within less than half an hour afterwards, the tearful eyes of the travellers, as they passed a familiar turning of the road, had looked their last on Yatton!
Noteconcerning the law ofErasuresandEstoppels.
I.Erasures.—The question—What is the effect of an erasure, an interlineation, or alteration apparent in a material part of a deed above thirty years old, when offered in evidence?—has led to much discussion both among professional and general readers of this work, as well at home as abroad; and many communications upon the subject have been received by the author. Lord Widdrington at the trial, and subsequently he and the full court, held, in the case ofDoed.Titmousev.Jolter, that such an erasure was fatal to the case of the partywho relied on the instrument in which it was exhibited. In constructing this portion of the story, the author, aware of some difference of opinion on the subject among lawyers, relied upon the following passage in a work of great and long-established authority, (Buller'sNisi Prius, p. 255,) in which the law is thus laid down—"If there be any [material] blemish, by razure or interlineation, in a deed, it ought to be proved, though it were above thirty years old, by the witnesses if living, and if dead, by proving the handwriting of at least one of the witnesses, and also the hand of the party,in order to encounter the presumption arising from the blemishes in the deed." Such, also, is the law laid down in Lord Chief Baron Gilbert's Treatise on Evidence, (p. 89,) and the proposition appears adopted, and these two high authorities cited, in the last edition, (the ninth,) of that celebrated standard text-book,Phillipson Evidence, p. 205, published since the former edition of this work. There is an impression, however, that this strict rule would notnowbe acted upon; on the ground that the presumption resulting from a continued possession, in conformity with the effect of a deed with erasure or interlineation, is strong enough to overcome the presumption of forgery afforded by the alterations themselves. Still it is possible to foresee great danger arising out of the adoption of such a rule: for a man enjoying an estate in lands, less than one of fee simple, may alter the deed so as to give to himself that superior estate, and then, after a lapse of thirty years, produce the deed so altered, and thereby defeat the innocent party challenging his title to the property. Possibly it would now be submitted as a question for a jury to decide,whether the alteration had been made previously or subsequently to the delivery of the deed?for ifpreviously, the deed remains valid and binding. A deed thirty years old is called "an ancient document," and is said to "prove itself"—i. e.to require no proof of its execution, provided it shall have been produced from a custody which may be reasonably and naturally explained, even though not the strictly proper legal custody.—See the late case of Doed.Nealev.Sampler, 8Adolphus and Ellis' Rep.151; and Doed.Wildgoosev.Pearce, 2Moody and Robinson, 240. As to the point made by the Attorney-General, at the trial, that where the right is once vested—i. e.the instant after the execution of the deed—such executioncreating a title to the land in question—that right and title cannot be affected by any subsequent alteration of the deed;—it has been affirmed to be good law in a recent solemn decision of the Court of Exchequer, and confirmed in a Court of Error.—See Davidsonv.Cooper, 11 Meesonv.Welsley, 799-800. "The moment after the execution of the deed, it has become valueless," said Lord Abinger, "except as affordingevidenceof the fact that it had been executed." In this case, in which the author was engaged, (in 1843,) the whole doctrine of erasures was thoroughly canvassed; and it was decided, on error, that when an instrument, (whether under seal or not,) which isthe foundationof a right sought to be enforced, is altered in a material part, even by a stranger, without the privity of the party affected by it, such alteration makes the instrument utterly void. The Scotch law respecting erasures is exceedingly stringent; and even goes farther than that laid down by Lord Widdrington.
II.Estoppel.—Both this doctrine, and that of erasures, as illustrated by this work, formed the subject of elaborate investigation in an article in theAmerican Juristfor 1842, (vol. xxvii. pp. 50, et sec.) The question relating to estoppel, is thus stated there in abstract terms. "If the son and heir-apparent of a tenant in fee-simple, conveys the land thus held, and afterwards dies in his father's lifetime, is the heir of the father, who also makes his pedigree through the son, estopped by that son's conveyance?" The conclusion arrived at is, that, according to Lord Coke, if such conveyance had been with warranty, the heir would be bound, if assets descended to him from the son.[A]But statute 4 and 5 Anne, c. 16 § 22, makes void as against his heir all collateral warranties made by an ancestor who has no estate of inheritance, inpossession; and the Actjust passed, (1844—stat. 7 and 8 Vict. c. 76 § 5,) permitting the alienation of contingent interests, expressly declares that it shall not enable any heir to dispose of hisexpectancy.
[A]By "Warranty," is meant the clause with which deeds of feoffment formerly concluded, and by which the feoffor agreed that he and his heirs would "warrant, acquit, and forever defend the feoffee and his heirs against all persons." This old form has long been obsolete; and may be considered to have been, by two late statutes, abolished.
[A]By "Warranty," is meant the clause with which deeds of feoffment formerly concluded, and by which the feoffor agreed that he and his heirs would "warrant, acquit, and forever defend the feoffee and his heirs against all persons." This old form has long been obsolete; and may be considered to have been, by two late statutes, abolished.
In this story an heir is represented as conveying away his expectancy; and the author has received an obliging communication on the subject, from one of the greatest conveyancers who ever lived—Mr. Preston—to the following effect. "The rule of law is—Qui non habet, ille non dat: nemo potest plus juris in alium transferre, quam ipse habet.Therefore a grant by an expectant heir,simpliciter, is void. But the doctrine ofestoppels(a 'cunning learning,' says Lord Coke) affords exceptions to this general rule." A feoffment with warranty binds an heir, however, not by estoppel, but byrebutter, "in order to avoid circuity of action, which is not favored by the law."—(Co. Litt. 265 a.) He might be estopped by a lease for years, and by matter of record—or by fine and recovery, before those methods of assurance were abolished; but a conveyance by Lease and Release would not bind the heir, on the subsequent descent of the estate: for he hadno right at allat the time of the release, made, but that once in the ancestor; after whose decease the heir may enter in to the land against his own release.—(Co. Litt. 265 a.) "The late vice-chancellor, Sir John Leach," says Mr. Preston, "once decided that a releasedidoperate as an estoppel, in conformity with my argument before him; but Lord Lyndhurst on appeal, contrary to his own first impression, on Sir Edward Sugden's handing up to him my own Book on Conveyancing, as acontre projetto my attempt to support the vice-chancellor's decision, overruled that decision."
Rank is very apt to attract and dazzle vulgar and feeble optics; and the belief that such is its effect upon mankind generally, is unspeakably gratifying to a vain and ignorant possessor of that rank. Of the truth of one part of this observation, take as an illustration the case of Tittlebat Titmouse; of the other, that of the Earl of Dreddlington. The former's dinner engagement with the latter, his august and awful kinsman, was an event of such magnitude as to absorb almost all his faculties in the contemplation of it, and also occasion him great anxiety in preparing for an effective appearance upon so signal an occasion. Mr. Gammon had repeatedly, during the interval, instructed his anxious pupil, if so he might be called, as to the manner in which he ought to behave. He was—Heaven save the mark, poor Titmouse!—to assume an air of mingled deference, self-possession, and firmness; not, on the one hand, to be overawed by the greatness with which he would be brought into contact, nor, on the other, unduly elated by a sense of his own suddenly acquired importance. He was, on the contrary, to steer evenly between the extremes of timorousness and temerity—toaim, at least, at that happy mean, so grateful to those able to appreciate the effort, and object, of those who had attained to it. Titmouse was to remember that, great as was the Earl of Dreddlington, he was yetbut a man—related, too, by consanguinity, to him, the aforesaid Titmouse; who might, moreover, before many years should have elapsed, become himself Lord Drelincourt, and byconsequence equally entitled, with the present possessor of that resplendent rank, to the homage of mankind. At the same time that the earl's advanced years gave him a natural claim to the reverence of his young kinsman—(whom his Lordship was about to introduce into the sublime regions of aristocracy, and also of political society)—Titmouse might extract a few ingredients of consolation from the reflection, that his income probablyexceeded, by a third, that of the Earl of Dreddlington. This is the sum of Mr. Gammon'sgeneralinstructions to his eager and excited pupil; but he also gave Titmouse many minor hints and suggestions. He was to drink very little wine—(whereat Titmouse demurred somewhat vehemently, and asked "How the d—l he was toget his steamup without it?")—and on no account to call for beer or porter, to which plebeian beverages, indeed, he might consider himself as having bid a long and last adieu;—to say occasionally, only, "my Lord" and "your Lordship," in addressing the earl—and "your Ladyship," in addressing Lady Cecilia;—and, above all, never to appear in a hurry, but to do and say whatever he had to do and say calmly; for that the nerves of aristocracy were very delicate, and could not bear a bustle, or the slightest display of energy or feeling. Then, as to hisdress—Gammon, feeling himself treading on very doubtful ground, intimated merely that the essence of true fashion wassimplicity—but here Titmouse grew fidgety, and his Mentor ceased.
During the night which ushered in the eventful day on which Titmouse dined with the Earl of Dreddlington, our friend got but very little sleep. Early in the morning he engaged a most respectable glass-coach to convey him westward in the evening, in something like style; and before noon, his anxieties were set at rest by the punctual arrival of various articles of dress, decoration, and scent—for Titmouse had a great idea of scents. As for hisnew watch and its brilliant gold guard-chain—ambitious reader! you should have seen them! About half-past four o'clock Titmouse retired to his bedroom, and resigned himself into the hands of Mr. Twirl, the tip-top hairdresser from the Strand, whose agreeable manipulations, and still more agreeable small-talk, occupied upwards of an hour; Titmouse, from time to time, giving the anxious operator abundant notice of the high quarter in which his handiwork was likely soon to be scrutinized.
"Pray-a, can you tell me," quoth Titmouse, drawlingly, shortly after Twirl had commenced his operations, "how long it will take me to get from this infernal part of the town to Grosvenor Square?Demlong way, isn't it, Mr. What's-your-name?"
"Grosvenor Square, sir?" said Twirl, glibly, but with a perceptible dash of deference in his tone; "why itisas one might say a tolerable way off, certainly; but you can't well miss your waythere, sir, of all places in town"——
"My coachman," interrupted Titmouse, with a fine air, "of course, had I thought of it,hemust know, dem him, of course!"
"Oh! to be sure, sir. There's none but people of the mosthighestrank lives in that quarter, sir. Excuse me, sir, but I've a brother-in-law that's valet to the Duke of Dunderwhistle there"——
"Indeed! How far off is that from Lord Dreddlington's?" inquired Titmouse, carelessly.
"Lord Dreddlington's, sir?—Well, I never! Isn't it particular strange, if that's where you're going, sir—it's next door to the Duke's—the very next door, sir!"
"'Pon my life, is it indeed? How devilish odd!"
"Know the Earl of Dreddlington then, I presume, sir?"
"Ya-as, I should think so; he's my—my—relation, that's all; and devilish near too!"
Mr. Twirl instantly conceived a kind of reverence for the gentleman upon whom he was operating.
"Well, sir," he presently added in a still more respectful tone than before, "p'r'aps you'll think it a liberty, sir; but, do you know, I've several times had the honor of seeing his Lordship in the street at a little distance—and there's a—a family likeness between you, sir—'pon my word, sir. It struck me, directly I saw you, that you was like somenobI'd seen at the other end of the town." [Here Titmouse experienced pleasurable sensations, similar to those said to be enjoyed by a cat when you pass your hand down its glossy coat in the right direction.] "Will you allow me, sir, to give your hair a good brushing, sir, before I dress it? I always like to take thegreatestpains with the hair of my quality customers!—Do you know, sir, that I had the honor of dressing his Grace's hair for a whole fortnight together, once when my brother-in-law was ill; and though p'r'aps I oughtn't to say it, his Grace expressed the highest satisfaction at my exertions, sir."
"'Pon my life, andIshould say you were an uncommon good hand—I've known lots worse, I assure you; men that would have spoiled the best head of hair going, by Jove!"
"Sir, you're very kind. I assure you, sir, that to do justice to agent'shair requires an uncommon deal of practice, and a sort ofnat'raltalent for it besides. Lord, sir! how much depends on a gent's hair, don't it? Of two coming into a room, it makes all the difference, sir! Believe me, sir, it's no use being well-dressed, nay, nor good-looking, if as how the hair a'n't done—what I call—correct!"
"By Jove, I really think you're nigh about the mark,"said Titmouse; and after a pause, during which Mr. Twirl had been brushing away at one particular part of the head with some vehemence, "Well," he exclaimed with a sigh, ceasing for a moment his vigorous exertions—"I'mblestif I can manage it, do what I will!"
"Eh? What's that? What is it?" inquired Titmouse, a little alarmedly.
"Why, sir, it's what we gents, in our profession, calls afeather, which is the mosthobstinatestthing in nature."
"What's afeather?" quoth Titmouse, rather faintly.
"You see, sir, 'tis when a small lot of hair on a gent's headwillstick up, do all we can to try and get it down; and (excuse me, sir,)you'vegot a regular rattler!" Titmouse put up his hand to feel, Twirl guiding it to the fatal spot; there it was, just as Twirl had described it.
"What's to be done?" murmured Titmouse.
"I'm afraid, sir, you don't use ourOSTRICH GREASEandRHINOCEROS MARROW, sir."
"Yourwhat?" cried Titmouse, apprehensively, with a dismally distinct recollection of the tragedy of the Cyanochaitanthropopoion, and the Damascus Cream, and the Tetaragmenon Abracadabra; matters which he at once mentioned to Mr. Twirl.
"Ah, it's notmycustom, sir," quoth Twirl, "to run down other gents' inventions; but my real opinion is, that they're all an imposition—a rank imposition, sir. I didn't like to say it, sir; but I soon saw there had been somebody a-practising on your hair."
"What, is itveryplain?" cried Titmouse, with a kind of horror, starting up and stepping to the glass.
"No, sir—not soveryplain; onlyyou'vegot, as I might say,accustomedto the sight of it; but when it's properly curled, and puckered up, and frizzed about, it won't show—nor the feather neither, sir; so, by your leave, here goes, sir;" and, after about a quarter of anhour's more labor, he succeeded in parting it right down the middle of the head, bringing it out into a bold curl towards each eyebrow, and giving our friend quite a new and very fascinating appearance, even in his own eyes. And as for the color—it really was not so very marked, after all; a little purple-hued and mottled, to be sure, in parts, but not to a degree to attract the eye of a casual observer. Twirl having declared, at length, his labors completed—regarding Titmouse's head with a look of proud satisfaction—Titmouse paid him half a crown, and also ordered a pot of ostrich grease and of rhinoceros marrow, (the one beingsuet, the otherlard, differently scented and colored,) and was soon left at liberty to proceed with the important duties of the toilet. It took him a good while; but in the end he was supremely successful. He wore black tights, (i. e.pantaloons fitting closely to his legs, and tied round his ankles with black ribbons,) silk stockings, and shoes with glittering silver buckles. His white neckerchief was tied with great elegance, not a superfluous wrinkle being visible in it. His shirt-front of lace, had two handsome diamond pins, connected together by a little delicate gold chain, glistening in the midst of it. Then he had a white waistcoat edge, next a crimson one, and lastly a glorious sky-blue satin waistcoat, spangled all over with gold flowers inwrought—and across it hung his new gold watch-guard, and his silver guard for his eyeglass, producing an inconceivably fine effect. His coat was of a light brown, of exquisite cut, fitting him as closely as if he had been born in it, and with burnished brass buttons, of sugar-loaf shape. 'Twas padded also with great judgment, and really took off more of his round-shouldered awkwardness of figure than any coat he had ever worn before. Then he had a fine white pocket-handkerchief, soaked in lavender water; and immaculate white kid gloves. Thus habited, he stood before his glass,bowing fifty different times, and adjusting his expression to various elegant forms of address. He was particularly struck with the combined effect of the two curls of his hair towards each eye, and the hair underneath his chin curved upwards on each side of his mouth in complete symmetry. I have ascertained from Mr. Titmouse himself, that on this memorable occasion of his first introduction toNOBILITY, every item of dress and decoration was entirely new; and when at length his labors had been completed, he felt great composure of mind, and a consciousness of the decisive effect which he must needs produce upon those into whose presence he was so soon to be ushered. His "carriage" was presently announced; and after keeping it standing for a few minutes, (which he conceived to be usual with fine people,) he gently placed his hat upon his head; drew on one glove, took his little ebony cane in his hand; and, with a hurried inward prayer that he might be equal to the occasion, stepped forth from his apartment and passed on to the glass-coach. Such a brilliant little figure, I will take upon myself to say, had never before issued, nor will perhaps ever again issue, from the Cabbage-Stalk Hotel. The waiters whom he passed, inclined towards him with instinctive reverence. He wasveryfine, to be sure; but who could, they justly thought, be dressed too finely that had ten thousand a-year, and was gone to dine with a lord in Grosvenor Square?
Titmouse was soon on his way towards that at once desired and dreaded region. He gazed with a look of occasional pity and contempt, as he passed along, at the plebeian pedestrians, and the lines of shops on each side of the narrow streets, till increasing indications of superior modes of existence presented themselves; and then he began to feel not a little fidgety and nervous. The streets grew wider; the squares greater; hackney-coaches(unsightly objects!) became fewer and fewer, giving place to splendid vehicles—coaches, and chariots—with one, two, and even three footmen, in elegant liveries, clustering behind, with long canes, cockades, and shoulder-knots; crimson, blue, green, bear and tiger skin hammercloths, with burnished coronets and crests upon them; sleek coachmen with wigs and three-cornered hats, and horses that pawed the ground with very pride; ladies within, glistening in satin, lace, and jewels—their lords beside them, leaning back with countenances so stern and haughty; oh, by all that was grand and tremendous! Titmouse felt himself getting now within the very vortex of greatness and fashion, and experienced a frequent fluttering and catching of the breath, and a sense of indefinite distressing apprehension. He was, however, nowin for it—and there was no retreat. As he neared Grosvenor Square, he heard, ever and anon, terrific thundering noises at the doors opposite which these splendid vehicles had drawn up—as if the impatient footmen were infuriated because the doors did not fly open of themselves, at the sound of the approaching carriage-wheels. At length he entered Grosvenor Square, that "pure empyrean" of earthly greatness. Carriages rolled calmly and haughtily past him, others dashed desperately in different directions. At each side of Lord Dreddlington's house, were carriages setting down with tremendous uproar. Mr. Titmouse felt his color going, and his heart began to beat much faster than usual. 'Twas quite in vain that he "hemmed" two or three times, by way of trying to reassure himself: he felt that his hour was come; and would have been glad, at the moment, of any decent excuse for driving off home again, and putting off the evil day a little longer. Opposite the dreaded door had now drawn up Mr. Titmouse's glass-coach; and the decent coachman—whose well-worn hat, and long, clean,but threadbare blue coat, and ancient-looking top-boots, bespoke their wearer's thriftiness—slowly alighting, threw the reins on his quiet horses' backs, and gave a modestrat-tat-tat-tat-tatat the door without ringing.
"What name shall I give, sir?" said he, returning to his coach, and letting down the loud clanking steps, with such a noise as seemed to indicate his desire to show the solid metal structure of them!
"Titmouse—Mr. Titmouse;" replied our friend, hurriedly, as the lofty door was thrown open by the corpulent porter; disclosing several footmen in light blue liveries, with silver shoulder-knots, and powdered heads, standing in the hall waiting for him.
"Mr. Titmouse!" exclaimed the coachman to the servants: then, having returned to the coach—"When shall I come back for you, sir?" he inquired of his flustered fare.
"D— me, sir—don't botherme," faltered Titmouse, quitting the vehicle with great trepidation: and the next moment he was in the hands of the Philistines—the hall door was closed upon him. All his presence of mind had evaporated; the excellent lessons given him by Mr. Gammon had disappeared like breath from the surface of a mirror. Though Lord Dreddlington's servants had never before seen in the house so strange an object as poor little Titmouse, they were of far too highly polished manners to appear to notice anything unusual. They silently motioned him up-stairs with a bland courteous air, he carrying his little agate-headed cane in one hand, and his new hat in the other. A gentlemanly person in a full black dress suit, opened the drawing-room door for him, with an elegant inclination, which Titmouse very gracefully returned. A faint mist seemed to be in the drawing-room for a second or two, during which Titmouse heard his name gently whispered by the gentleman who had introducedhim; quickly clearing away, however, he beheld, at the upper end, but two figures, that of an old gentleman, and a young lady—they were, in fact, the Earl of Dreddlington and Lady Cecilia. Now—if truth must be told—that great man had not been a whit behindhand, in the matter of dress, with the little creature now trembling before him; being, in truth, full as anxious to make an effective first appearance in the eyes of Mr. Titmouse, as he in those of the Earl of Dreddlington. And each had, in his way, completely succeeded. There was little or no substantial difference between them. The Right Honorable the Earl of Dreddlington was an old experienced fool, and Tittlebat Titmouse a young inexperienced one. They were the same species of plant, but had grown in different soils. The one had had to struggle through a neglected existence by the dusty, hard road-side of life; the other had had all the advantage of hothouse cultivation—its roots striking deep into, and thriving upon, the rich manure of sycophancy and adulation!—We have seen how anxious was our little friend to appear as became the occasion, before his great kinsman; who in his turn had several times during the day exulted secretly in the anticipation of the impression which must be produced upon the mind of Titmouse by the sudden display, in the earl's person, of the sublimest distinctions which society can bestow, short of royalty. It had once or twice occurred to the earl, whether he could find any fair excuse for appearing in his full general's uniform; but on maturer reflection, governed by that simplicity and severity of taste which ever distinguished him, he had abandoned that idea, and appeared in a plain blue coat, white waistcoat, and black knee-breeches. But on his left breast glittered one or two foreign orders, and across his waistcoat was the broad red ribbon of the Bath. His hair was white and fine; his cold blue eye and haughtylip gave him an expression of severe dignity: and he stood erect as an arrow. Lady Cecilia reclined on the sofa, with an air of languor andennuiwhich had become habitual to her; and was dressed in glistening white satin, with a necklace of large and very beautiful pearls. The earl was standing in an attitude of easy grace to receive his guest, as to whose personal appearance, by the way, he was quite in the dark—Mr. Titmouse might be a great or a little man, and forward or bashful; and require a corresponding demeanor and address on the part of the earl. "Gracious Powers!" he involuntarily exclaimed to himself, the instant his eye caught sight of Titmouse, who approached slowly, making profound and formal obeisances. The earl stood rooted to the spot which he had occupied when Titmouse entered. If his servants had turned an ape into the drawing-room, his Lordship could scarcely have felt or exhibited greater amazement than he now experienced, for a moment. "Ah, Heavens!" thought he, "what a fool have we here? what creature is this?" Then it flashed across his mind;—"May this bethe future Lord Drelincourt?" He was on the point of recoiling from his suddenly-discovered kinsman in dismay, (as for Lady Cecilia, she gazed at him, through her glass, in silent horror, after a faint exclamation, on his first becoming visible, of "Gracious! Papa!") when his habitual self-command came to his assistance; and, advancing very slowly a step or two towards Titmouse—who, after a hurried glance around him, saw no place to deposit his hat and cane upon except the floor, on which he accordingly dropped them—the earl extended his hand, slightly compressed the tips of Titmouse's fingers, and bowed courteously, but with infinite concern in his features.
"I am happy, Mr. Titmouse, to make your acquaintance," said the earl, slowly—"Sir, I have the honor topresent you to my daughter, the Lady Cecilia." Titmouse, who by this time had got into a sort of cold sweat—a condition from which the earl was really notveryfar removed—made a very profound and formal bow, (he had been taking lessons from a posture-master to one of the theatres,) first to the earl, and then to Lady Cecilia, who rose about two inches from the sofa, with an almost audible sigh, and then sank again upon it, without removing her eyes from the figure of Titmouse, who went on bowing, first to the one and then to the other, till the earl had engaged him in conversation.
"It gives me pleasure, sir, to see that you are punctual in your engagements. I am so too, sir; and owe to it no small portion of any success which I may have had in life. Punctuality, sir, in small matters, leads to punctuality in great matters." This was said very deliberately, and with a sort of freezing grandeur.
"Oh yes, my Lord! quite so, your Lordship," stammered Titmouse, suddenly recollecting a part of Gammon's instructions; "to be sure—wouldn't have been behind time, your Lordship, for a minute, my Lord; uncommon bad manners, if it please your Lordship"——
"Will you be seated, sir?" interrupted the earl, dignifiedly motioning him to a chair, and then sitting down beside him; after which his Lordship seemed, for a second or two, to forget himself; staring in silence at Titmouse, and then in consternation at Lady Cecilia. "I—I—" said he, suddenly recollecting himself, "beg your par—sir, I mean—I congratulate you upon—your recent success. Sir, it must have been rather a surprise to you?"
"Oh yes, sir—my Lord, most uncommon, may it please your Lordship—particular—butright is right—please your Lordship"——
["Oh Heavens! merciful Heavens! How horrid is allthis! Am I awake or only dreaming? 'Tis an idiot—and what's worse, a vulgar idiot!And this thing may become Lord Drelincourt!" This was what was passing through Lord Dreddlington's mind, while his troubled eye was fixed upon Titmouse.]
"It is, indeed, Mr. Titmouse," replied his Lordship, "very true, sir; what you say is correct. Quite so; exactly." His eye was fixed on Titmouse, but his words were uttered, as it were, mechanically, and in a musing manner. It flitted for a moment across his mind, whether he should ring the bell, and order the servant to show out of the house the fearful imp which had just been shown into it; but at that critical moment he detected poor Titmouse's eye fixed with a kind of reverent intensity upon his Lordship's glittering orders. 'Twas a lucky look, that, for Titmouse, since it began to melt away the ice which was beginning to incrust the little heart of his august relative. 'Twas evident that the poor young man had not been accustomed to society, thought the earl, with an approach towards the compassionate mood. He was frightfully dressed, to be sure; and as for his speech, he was manifestly overawed by the Presence in which he found himself; [that thought melted a little more of the ice.] Yet, was it not evident that he hadsomelatent power of appreciating real distinction, when he beheld it? [his Lordship's little heart here lostallthe ice which had begun so suddenly to collect round it.] And again;—he has actually thrust out the intolerable Aubrey, and is now lawful owner of Yatton—ofTEN THOUSAND A-YEAR——
"Did you see the review, to-day, sir?" inquired the earl, rather blandly—"His Majesty was there, sir, and seemed to enjoy the scene." Titmouse, with a timid air, said that he had not seen it, as he had been at a boatrace upon the river; and after a few more general observations—"Willyou permit me, sir? It is fromA QUARTERrequiring the highest—a-hem!" said the earl, as a note was brought him, which he immediately opened and read. Lady Cecilia, also, appearing to be reading, Titmouse had a moment's breathing time and interval of relief. What would he have given, he thought, for some other person, or several persons, to come in and divide the attention—the intolerably oppressive attention of the two august individuals then before him! He seized the opportunity to cast a furtive glance around the room. It opened into a second, which opened into a third: how spacious, each, and lofty! And glittering glass chandeliers in each! What chimney and pier glasses! What rich flowered satin curtains—they must have cost twelve or fourteen shillings a-yard at least!—The carpets, of the finest Brussels—and they felt like velvet to the feet;—then the brackets, of marble and gold, with snowy statues and vases glistening upon each; chairs so delicate, and gilded all over—he almost feared to sit down on them. What would the Quirks and Tag-rags think of this! Faugh—only to think for a moment of Alibi House and Satin Lodge!—Then there was the Lady Cecilia—a lady of high rank! How rich her dress—and how haughtily beautiful she looked as she reclined upon the sofa! [she was in fact busy conning over the new opera, which was to come out the next evening.] And the Earl of Dreddlington—there he was, reading, doubtless, some letter from the king or one of the royal family—a man of great rank—resplendent in his decorations—all just according to what he had seen in pictures, and heard and read of—what must that red ribbon have cost? Ay, indeed, poor Lord Dreddlington, it had cost you the labor of half a life of steadfast sycophancy, of watchful manœuvring, and desperate exertion! And at last, the minister tossed it to you in a moment of disgust and despair—mortally perplexedby the conflicting claims of two sulky dukes and a querulous old marquis, each of whom threatened to withdraw his "influence and support," if hisrival'sclaims were preferred! He had never seen any of such a breadth.—It must have been manufactured on purpose for the earl! How white were his hands! And he had an antique massive signet-ring on his forefinger, and two glittering rings at least on each of his little fingers—positively Titmouse at length began to regard him almost as a god:—and yet the amazing thought occurred that this august being was allied to him by the ties of relationship! Such were the thoughts and reflections passing through the mind of Titmouse, during the time that Lord Dreddlington was engaged in reading his letter—and afterwards during the brief intervals which elapsed between the various observations addressed to him by his Lordship.
The gentleman in black at length entered the room, and advancing slowly and noiselessly towards the earl, said in a gentlemanlike manner, "Dinner, my Lord;" and retired. Into what new scenes of splendid embarrassment was this the signal for Mr. Titmouse's introduction? thought our friend, and trembled.
"Mr. Titmouse, will you give your arm to the Lady Cecilia?" said the earl, motioning him to the sofa. Up jumped Titmouse, and approached hastily the recumbent beauty; who languidly arose, arranged her train with one hand, and with the other, having drawn on her glove, just barely touched the proffered arm of Titmouse, extended towards her at a very acute angle, and at right angles with his own body—stammering, "Honor to take your Ladyship—uncommon proud—this way, my Lady." Lady Cecilia took no more notice of him than if he had been a dumb waiter; walking beside him in silence—the earl following. To think that a nobleman of high rank was walkingbehindhim!
Would to heaven, thought the embarrassed Titmouse, that he had two fronts, one for the earl behind, and the other to be turned full towards Lady Cecilia! The tall servants, powdered and in light blue liveries, stood like a guard of honor around the dining-room door. That room was extensive and lofty: what a solitary sort of state were they about to dine in! Titmouse felt cold, though it was summer; and trembled as he followed, rather than led, his haughty partner to her seat; and then was motioned into his own by the earl, himself sitting down opposite an antique silver soup tureen! A servant stood behind Lady Cecilia; another behind Titmouse; and a third on the left of the earl; while on his right, between his Lordship and the glistening sideboard, stood a portly gentleman in black, with a bald head and—Titmouse thought—a somewhat haughty countenance. Though Titmouse had touched nothing since breakfast, he felt not the slightest inclination to eat, and would have given the world to have dared to say as much, and be at once relieved from a vast deal of anxiety. Is it indeed easy to conceive of a fellow-creature in a state of more complete thraldom, at that moment, than poor little Titmouse? A little animal under the suddenly exhausted receiver of an air-pump, or a fish just plucked out of its own element, and flung gasping and struggling upon the grass, may serve to assist your conceptions of the position and sufferings of Mr. Titmouse. The earl, who was on the look-out for it, observed his condition with secret but complete satisfaction; here he beheld the legitimate effect of rank and state upon the human mind. Titmouse got through the soup—of which about half a dozen spoonfuls only were put into his plate—pretty fairly. Anywhere else than at Lord Dreddlington's, Titmouse would have thought it poor, thin, watery stuff, with a few green things chopped up and swimming in it; but now he perceived that it had a sort of superiorflavor. How some red mullet, enclosed in paper, puzzled poor Titmouse, is best known to himself.
"The Lady Cecilia will take wine with you, Mr. Titmouse, I dare say, by-and-by," observed the earl, blandly; and in a moment's time, but with perfect deliberation, the servants poured wine into the two glasses. "Your Ladyship's health, my Lady"—faltered Titmouse. She slightly bowed, and a faint smile glimmered at the corners of her mouth—but unobserved by Titmouse.
"I think you said, Mr. Titmouse," quoth the earl, some time afterwards, "that you had not yet taken possession of Yatton?"
"No, my Lord; but I go down the day after to-morrow—quite—if I may say it, my Lord—quite in style"—answered Titmouse, with humble and hesitating jocularity of manner.
"Ha, ha!"—exclaimed the earl, gently.
"Had you any acquaintance with the Aubreys, Mr. Titmouse?" inquired the Lady Cecilia.
"No, my Lady—yes, your Ladyship, (I beg your Ladyship's pardon)—but, now I think of it, I had a slight acquaintance with Miss Aubrey." [Titmouse, Titmouse, you little wretch, how dare you say so?]
"She is considered pretty in the country, I believe," drawled Lady Cecilia, languidly.
"Oh, most uncommon lovely!—middling, only middling, my Lady, I should say"—added Titmouse, suddenly; having observed, as he fancied, rather a displeased look in Lady Cecilia. He had begun his sentence with more energy than he had yet shown in the house; he finished it hastily, and colored as he spoke—feeling that he had, somehow or another, committed himself.
"Do you form a new establishment at Yatton, sir?" inquired the earl, "or take to any part of that of your predecessor?"
"I have not, please your Lordship, made up my mind yet exactly—should like to know your Lordship's opinion."
"Why, sir, I should be governed by circumstances—by circumstances, sir; when you get there, sir, you will be better able to judge of the course you should pursue." Titmouse made an humble obeisance.
"Do you intend, Mr. Titmouse, to live in town, or in the country?" inquired Lady Cecilia.
"A little of both, my Lady—but mostly in town; because, as your Ladyship sees, the country isdevilishdull—'pon my life, my Lady—my Lord—beg a thousand pardons," he suddenly added, bowing to both, and blushing violently. Here hehadcommitted himself, and awfully; but his august companions bowed to him very kindly, and he presently recovered his self-possession.
"Are you fond of hunting, Mr. Titmouse?" inquired the earl.
"Why, my Lord, can't exactly say that I am—but your Lordship sees, cases alter circumstances, and when I get down there among the country gents, p'r'aps I may do as they do, my Lord."
"I presume, Mr. Titmouse, you have scarcely chosen a town residence yet?" inquired Lady Cecilia.
"No, my Lady—not fixed it yet—was thinking of taking Mr. Aubrey's house in Grosvenor Street, understanding it is to be sold;" then turning towards the earl—"because, as your Lordship sees, I was thinking of getting intoboththe nests of the old birds, while both are warm"—he added with a very faint smile.
"Exactly; yes—I see, sir—I understand you," replied Lord Dreddlington, sipping his wine. His manner rather discomposed Titmouse, to whom it then very naturally occurred that the earl might be warmly attached to the Aubreys, and not relish their being spoken of solightly; so Titmouse hastily and anxiously added—"Your Lordship sees I was mostparticularsorry to make the Aubreys turn out. A most uncommon respectable gent, Mr. Aubrey: I assure your Lordship I think so."
"I had not the honor of his acquaintance, sir," replied the earl, coldly, and with exceeding stiffness, which flustered Titmouse not a little; and a pause occurred in the conversation for nearly a minute. Dinner had now considerably advanced, and Titmouse was beginning to grow alittlefamiliar with the routine of matters. Remembering Gammon's caution concerning the wine, and also observing how very little was drunk by the earl and Lady Cecilia, Titmouse did the same; and during the whole of dinner had scarcely four full glasses of wine.
"How long is it," inquired the earl, addressing his daughter, "since the Aubreys took that house?" Lady Cecilia could not say. "Stay—now I recollect—surely it was just before my appointment to the Household. Yes; it was about that time, I now recollect. I am alluding, Mr. Titmouse," continued the earl, addressing him in a very gracious manner, "to an appointment under the Crown of some little distinction, which I was solicited to accept at the personal instance of his Majesty, on the occasion of our party coming into power—I mean that of Lord Steward of the Household."
"Dear me, my Lord! Indeed! Only to think, your Lordship!" exclaimed Titmouse, with such a profound deference in his manner as encouraged the earl to proceed.
"That, sir, was an office of great importance, and I had some hesitation in undertaking its responsibility. But, sir, when I had once committed myself to my sovereign and my country, I resolved to give them my best services. I had formed plans for effecting very extensive alterations, sir, in that department of the public service, which I have no doubt would have given great satisfaction to the country,as soon as the nature of my intentions became generally understood; when faction, sir, unfortunately prevailed, and we were compelled to relinquish office."
"Dear me, my Lord! How particular sorry I am to hear it, my Lord!" exclaimed Titmouse, as he gazed at the baffled statesman with an expression of respectful sympathy.
"Sir, it gives me sincere satisfaction," said the earl, after a pause, "to hear that our political opinions agree"——
"Oh yes! my Lord, quite;sureof that"——
"I assure you, sir, that some little acquaintance with the genius and spirit of the British constitution has satisfied me that this country can never be safely or advantageously governed except on sound Whig principles."—He paused.
"Yes, my Lord; it's quite true, your Lordship"—interposed Titmouse, reverentially.
"That, sir, is the only way I know of, by which aristocratic institutions can be brought to bear effectively upon, to blend harmoniously with the interests of the lower orders—the people, Mr. Titmouse." Titmouse thought this wonderfully fine, and sat listening as to an oracle of political wisdom. The earl, observing it, began to form a much higher opinion of his little kinsman. "The unfortunate gentleman, your predecessor at Yatton, sir, if he had but allowed himself to have been guided by those who had mixed in public affairs before he was born," said the earl, with great dignity——
"'Pon my word, my Lord, he was, I've heard, a d—d Tory!—Oh my Lady! my Lord! humbly beg pardon," he added, turning pale; but the fatal word had been uttered, and heard by both; and he felt as if he could have sunk through the floor.
"Shall I have the honor of taking another glass of wine with you, sir?" inquired the earl, rather gravely and severely,as if wishing Mr. Titmouse fully to appreciate the fearful breach of etiquette of which he had just been guilty, by swearing in such a presence. After they had bowed to each other, a very awkward pause occurred, which was at length broken by the considerate Lady Cecilia.
"Are you fond of the opera, Mr. Titmouse?"
"Very, my Lady—most particular," replied Titmouse, who had been there once only.
"Do you prefer the opera, or the ballet? I mean the music or the dancing?"
"Oh I understand your Ladyship. 'Pon my word, my Lady, I prefer them both. The dancing is most uncommon superior; though I must say, my Lady, the lady dancers there do most uncommonly—rather, I should say"—He stopped abruptly; his face flushed, and he felt as if he had burst into a perspiration. What the deuce was he about? It seemed as if some devil within were urging him on, from time to time, to commit himself. Good gracious! another word, and out would have come his opinion as to the shocking indecency of the ballet!
"I understand you, sir; I quite agree with you," said Lady Cecilia, calmly; "the balletdoescome on at a sad late hour; I often wish they would now and then have the ballet first."
"'Pon my life, my Lady," quoth Titmouse, eagerly snatching at the plank which had been thrown to him; "thatiswhat I meant—nothing else, upon my soul, your Ladyship!"
"Do you intend taking a box there, Mr. Titmouse?" inquired her Ladyship, with an appearance of interest in the expected answer.
"Why, your Ladyship, they say a box there is apreciouslong figure;—but in course, my Lady, when I've got to rights a little with my property—your Ladyship understands—I shall do the correct thing."