Frank Fairlegh Part 54

returned I sorrowfully.

"Nothing of the kind must be attempted," replied Oaklands sternly; "could I obtain your sister's hand tomorrow by merely raising my finger, I would not do so while there remained a possibility of her preferring Lawless. Do you imagine that I could be content to be accepted out of compa.s.sion? No," he added, more calmly, "the die will soon be cast; till then I will remain; and if, as I fear is only too certain, Lawless's suit is favourably received, I shall leave this place instantly--put it on the score of health--make Ellis order me abroad--the German -359-- baths, Madeira, Italy, I care not, all places will be alike to me then."

"And how miserable Sir John will be at this sudden determination,"

returned I, "and he is so happy now in seeing your health restored!"

"Ah! this world is truly termed a vale of tears," replied Harry mournfully, "and the trial hardest to bear is the sight of the unhappiness we cause those we love. Strange that my acts seem always fated to bring sorrow upon my father's grey head, when I would willingly lay down my life to s.h.i.+eld him from suffering. But do not imagine that I will selfishly give way to grief--no; as soon as your--as soon as Lawless is married, I shall return to England and devote myself to my father; my duty to him, and your friends.h.i.+p, will be the only interests that bind me to life."

He paused, and then added, "Frank, you know me too well to fancy that I am exaggerating my feelings, or even deceiving myself as to the strength of them; this is no sudden pa.s.sion, my love for f.a.n.n.y has been the growth of years, and the gentle kindness with which she attended on me during my illness--the affectionate tact (for I believe she loves me as a brother, though I have almost doubted even that of late) with which she forestalled my every wish, proved to me how indispensable she has become to my happiness. But," he continued, seeing, I imagined, by the painful expression of my face, the effect his words were producing on me, "in my selfishness I am rendering you unhappy. We will speak no more of this matter till my fate is certain; should it be that which I expect, let us forget that this conversation ever pa.s.sed; if, on the contrary, Lawless should meet with a refusal--but that is an alternative I dare not contemplate.--And now, farewell."

So saying, he wrung my hand with a pressure that vouched for his returning strength, and left me. In spite of my walk, I had not much appet.i.te for my breakfast that morning.-360--

CHAPTER XLV -- HELPING A LAME DOG OVER A STILE

"Marry, I cannot show it in rhyme; I have tried.... No, I was not born under a rhyming planet; Nor I cannot woo in festival terms."

--_Much Ado About Nothing_.

"Now, let the verses be bad or good, it plainly amounts to a regular offer. I don't believe any of the lines are an inch too long or too short; but if they were, it would be wicked to alter them, for they are really genuine."

--_Thinks I to Myself_.

"We shall have a rare letter from him."

--_Twelfth Night_.

IT was usually my custom of an afternoon to read law for a couple of hours, a course of training preparatory to committing myself to the tender mercies of a special pleader; and as Sir John's well-stored library afforded me every facility for so doing, that was the _venue_ I generally selected for my interviews with Messrs. Blackstone, c.o.ke upon Lyttelton, and other legal luminaries. Accordingly, on the day in question, after having nearly quarrelled with my mother for congratulating me warmly on the attainment of my wishes, when I mentioned to her Lawless's proposal, found fault with f.a.n.n.y's Italian p.r.o.nunciation so harshly as to bring tears into her eyes, and grievously offended our old female domestic by disdainfully rejecting some pet abomination upon which she had decreed that I should lunch, I sallied forth, and, not wis.h.i.+ng to encounter any of the family, entered the hall by a side door, and reached the library un.o.bserved. To my surprise I discovered Lawless (whom I did not recollect ever to have seen there before, he being not much given to literary pursuits) seated, pen in hand, at the table, apparently absorbed in the mysteries of composition.

"I shall not disturb you, Lawless," said I, taking down a book. "I am only going to read law for an hour or two."

"Eh! disturb me?" was the reply; "I'm uncommon glad to be disturbed, I can tell you, for hang me if I can make head or tail of it! Here have I been for the last three hours trying to write an offer to your sister, and actually have not contrived to make a fair start of it yet. I wish you would lend me a hand, there's a good fellow--I know you are up to all the right dodges--just give one a sort of notion, eh? don't you see?"

"What! write an offer to my own sister? Well, of all the quaint ideas I ever heard, that's the oddest--really you must excuse me."

--361-- "Very odd, is it?" inquired Coleman, opening the door in time to overhear the last sentence. "Pray let me hear about it, then, for I like to know of odd things particularly; but, perhaps, I'm intruding?"

"Eh? no; come along here, Coleman," cried Lawless, "you are just the very boy I want--I am going to be married--that is, I want to be, don't you see, if she'll have me, but there's the rub; Frank Fairlegh is all right, and the old lady says she's agreeable, so everything depends on the young woman herself--if she will but say 'Yes,' we shall go ahead in style; but, unfortunately before she is likely to say anything one way or the other, you understand, I've got to pop the question, as they call it. Now, I've about as much notion of making an offer as a cow has of dancing a hornpipe--so I want you to help us a bit--eh?"

"Certainly," replied Freddy courteously; "I shall be only too happy, and as delays are dangerous I had perhaps better be off at once--where is the young lady?"

"Eh! hold hard there! don't go quite so fast, young man," exclaimed Lawless aghast; "if you bolt away at that pace you'll never see the end of the run; why, you don't suppose I want you to go and talk to her--pop the question viva voce, do you? You'll be advising me to be married by deputy, I suppose, next. No, no, I'm going to do the trick by letter--something like a Valentine, only rather more so, eh? but I can't exactly manage to write it properly. If it was but a warranty for a horse, now, I'd knock it off in no time, but this is a sort of thing, you see, I'm not used to; one doesn't get married as easily as one sells a horse, nor as often, eh? and it's rather a nervous piece of business--a good deal depends upon the letter."

"You've been trying your hand at it already, I see," observed Coleman, seating himself at the table; "pretty consumption of paper! I wonder what my governor would say to me if I were to set about drawing a deed in this style; why, the stationer's bill would run away with all the profits."

"Never mind the profits, you avaricious Jew," replied Lawless. "Yes, I've been trying effects, as the painters call it--putting down two or three beginnings to find out which looked the most like the time of day--you understand?"

"Two or three?" repeated Coleman, "six or seven rather, _voyons_. 'Mr.

Lawless presents his affections to Miss Fairlegh, and requests the hon....' Not a bad -362-- idea, an offer in the third person--the only case in which a third person would not be _de trop_ in such an affair."

"Eh! yes, I did the respectful when I first started, you know, but I soon dropped that sort of thing when I got warm; you'll see, I stepped out no end afterwards."

"'Honoured Miss,'" continued Coleman, reading, "'My sentiments, that is, your perfections, your splendid action, your high breeding, and the many slap-up points that may be discerned in you by any man that has an eye for a horse...'"

"Ah! that was where I spoiled it," sighed Lawless.

"Here's a very pretty one," resumed Freddy. "'Adorable and adored Miss f.a.n.n.y Fairlegh, seeing you as I do with the eyes' (Why she would not think you saw her with your nose, would she?)' of fond affection, probably would induce me to overlook any unsoundness or disposition to vice...'"

"That one did not turn out civilly, you see," said Lawless, "or else it wasn't such a bad beginning."

"Here's a better," rejoined Coleman. "'Exquisitely beautiful f.a.n.n.y, fairest of that lovely s.e.x, which to distinguish it from us rough-and-ready fox-hunters, who, when once we get our heads at any of the fences of life, go at it, never mind how stiff it may be (matrimony has always appeared to me one of the stiffest), and generally contrive to find ourselves on the other side, with our hind legs well under us;--a s.e.x, I say, which to distinguish it from our own, is called the fair s.e.x, a stock of which I never used to think any great things, reckoning them only fit to canter round the parks with, until I saw you brought out, when I at once perceived that your condition--that is, my feelings--were so inexpressible that...!'" "Ah!" interposed Lawless, "that's where I got bogged, sank in over the fetlocks, and had to give it up as a bad job."

"In fact your feelings became too many for you," returned Coleman; "but what have we here?--verses, by all that's glorious!"

"No, no! I'm not going to let you read them," exclaimed Lawless, attempting to wrest the paper out of his hand.

"Be quiet, Lawless," rejoined Coleman, holding him off, "sit down directly, sir, or I won't write a word for you: I _must see_ what all your ideas are in order to get some notion of what you want to say; besides, I've no doubt they'll be very original."

-363--

I

"'Sweet f.a.n.n.y, there are moments When the heart is not one's own, When we fain would clip its wild wing's tip, But we find the bird has flown.

II

"'Dear f.a.n.n.y, there are moments When a loss may be a gain, And sorrow, joy--for the heart's a toy, And loving's such sweet pain.

III

"'Yes, f.a.n.n.y, there are moments When a smile is worth a throne, When a frown can prove the flower of love, Must fade, and die alone.'

--"Why, you never wrote those, Lawless?"

"Didn't I?" returned Lawless, "but I know I did, though--copied them out of an old book I found up there, and wrote some more to 'em, because I thought there wasn't enough for the money, besides putting in f.a.n.n.y's name instead of--what, do you think?--Phillis!--there's a name for you; the fellow must have been a fool. Why, I would not give a dog such an ill name for fear somebody should hang him; but go on."

"Ah, now we come to the original matter," returned Coleman, "and very original it seems."

IV

"'Dear f.a.n.n.y, there are moments When love gets you in a fix, Takes the bit in his jaws, and, without any pause, Bolts away with you like bricks.

V

"'Yes, f.a.n.n.y, there are moments When affection knows no bounds, When I'd rather be talking with you out a-walking, Than rattling after the hounds.

VI

"'Dear f.a.n.n.y, there are moments When one feels that one's inspired, And... and...'