The Bertrams Part 97

And now came on an April shower, such as April showers are on the borders of Westmoreland. It rained and blew; and after a while the rain turned to sleet. The post-boy b.u.t.toned up his coat, and got under the shelter of the portico; the horses drooped their heads, and s.h.i.+vered. Mrs. Wilkinson wished herself back at Hurst Staple--or even comfortably settled at Littlebath, as her son had once suggested.

"His lords.h.i.+p don't know nothing about the vicarage," bellowed out the butler, opening the hall-door only half way, so that his face just appeared above the lock.

"Oh, dear! oh, dear!" said Mrs. Wilkinson. "Just let me down into the hall, and then I will explain it to you."

"Them 'orses 'll be foundered as sure as heggs," said the post-boy.

Mrs. Wilkinson at last succeeded in making her way into the hall, and the horses were allowed to go round to the yard. And then at last, after half a dozen more messages to and fro, she was informed that Lord Stapledean would see her. So dreadful had been the contest hitherto, that this amount of success was very grateful. Her feeling latterly had been one of intense hostility to the butler rather than to her son. Now that she had conquered that most savage Cerberus, all would be pleasant with her. But, alas! she soon found that in pa.s.sing Cerberus she had made good her footing in a region as little desirable as might be.

She was ushered into the same book-room in which Arthur had been received, and soon found herself seated in the same chair, and on the same spot. Lord Stapledean was thinner now, even than he had been then; he had a stoop in his shoulders, and his face and hair were more gray. His eyes seemed to his visitor to be as sharp and almost as red as those of ferrets. As she entered, he just rose from his seat and pointed to the chair on which she was to sit.

"Well, ma'am," said he; "what's all this about the clergyman's house at Hurst Staple? I don't understand it at all."

"No, my lord; I'm sure your lords.h.i.+p can't understand. That's why I have thought it my duty to come all this way to explain it."

"All what way?"

"All the way from Hurst Staple, in Hamps.h.i.+re, my lord. When your lords.h.i.+p was so considerate as to settle what my position in the parish was to be--"

"Settle your position in the paris.h.!.+"

"Yes, my lord--as to my having the income and the house."

"What does the woman mean?" said he, looking down towards the rug beneath his feet, but speaking quite out loud. "Settle her position in the paris.h.!.+ Why, ma'am, I don't know who you are, and what your position is, or anything about you."

"I am the widow of the late vicar, Lord Stapledean; and when he died--"

"I was fool enough to give the living to his son. I remember all about it. He was an imprudent man, and lived beyond his means, and there was nothing left for any of you--wasn't that it?"

"Yes, my lord," said Mrs. Wilkinson, who was so troubled in spirit that she hardly knew what to say. "That is, we never lived beyond our means at all, my lord. There were seven children; and they were all educated most respectably. The only boy was sent to college; and I don't think there was any imprudence--indeed I don't, my lord. And there was something saved; and the insurance was always regularly paid; and--"

The marquis absolutely glared at her, as she went on with her domestic defence. The household at Hurst Staple had been creditably managed, considering the income; and it was natural that she should wish to set her patron right. But every word that she said carried her further away from her present object.

"And what on earth have you come to me for?" said Lord Stapledean.

"I'll tell your lords.h.i.+p, if you'll only allow me five minutes. Your lords.h.i.+p remembers when poor Mr. Wilkinson died?"

"I don't remember anything about it."

"Your lords.h.i.+p was good enough to send for Arthur."

"Arthur!"

"Yes, my lord."

"Who's Arthur?"

"My boy, my lord. Don't you remember? He was just in orders then, and so you were good enough to put him into the living--that is to say, not exactly into the living; but to make him curate, as it were; and you allocated the income to me; and--"

"Allocated the income!" said Lord Stapledean, putting up his hands in token of unlimited surprise.

"Yes, my lord. Your lords.h.i.+p saw just how it was; and, as I could not exactly hold the living myself--"

"Hold the living yourself! Why, are you not a woman, ma'am?"

"Yes, my lord, of course; that was the reason. So you put Arthur into the living, and you allocated the income to me. That is all settled.

But now the question is about the house."

"The woman's mad," said Lord Stapledean, looking again to the carpet, but speaking quite out loud. "Stark mad. I think you'd better go home, ma'am; a great deal better."

"My lord, if you'd only give yourself the trouble to understand me--"

"I don't understand a word you say. I have nothing to do with the income, or the house, or with you, or with your son."

"Oh, yes, my lord, indeed you have."

"I tell you I haven't, ma'am; and what's more, I won't."

"He's going to marry, my lord," continued Mrs. Wilkinson, beginning to whimper; "and we are to be turned out of the house, unless you will interfere to prevent it. And he wants me to go and live at Littlebath. And I'm sure your lords.h.i.+p meant me to have the house when you allocated the income."

"And you've come all the way to Bowes, have you, because your son wants to enjoy his own income?"

"No, my lord; he doesn't interfere about that. He knows he can't touch that, because your lords.h.i.+p allocated it to me--and, to do him justice, I don't think he would if he could. And he's not a bad boy, my lord; only mistaken about this."

"Oh, he wants his own house, does he?"

"But it isn't his own house, you know. It has been my house ever since his father died. And if your lords.h.i.+p will remember--"

"I tell you what, Mrs. Wilkinson; it seems to me that your son should not let you come out so far by yourself--"

"My lord!"

"And if you'll take my advice, you'll go home as fast as you can, and live wherever he bids you."

"But, my lord--"

"At any rate, I must beg you not to trouble me any more about the matter. When I was a young man your husband read with me for a few months; and I really think that two presentations to the living have been a sufficient payment for that. I know nothing about your son, and I don't want to know anything. I dare say he's as good as most other clergymen--"

"Oh, yes; he is, my lord."

"But I don't care a straw who lives in the house."

"Don't you, my lord?" said Mrs. Wilkinson, very despondently.

"Not one straw. I never heard such a proposition from a woman in my life--never. And now, if you'll allow me, I'll wish you good-morning, ma'am. Good-morning to you." And the marquis made a slight feint, as though to raise himself from his chair.

Mrs. Wilkinson got up, and stood upright before him, with her handkerchief to her eyes. It was very grievous to her to have failed so utterly. She still felt sure that if Lord Stapledean would only be made to understand the facts of the case, he would even yet take her part. She had come so far to fight her battle, that she could not bring herself to leave the ground as long as a chance of victory remained to her. How could she put the matter in the fewest words, so as to make the marquis understand the very--very truth?