Complete Works of Wilkie Collins (1032 page)

BOOK: Complete Works of Wilkie Collins
12.22Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“I thank you with all my heart, ma’am; I took it for pomatum,” Rufus answered. “Would you object to shaking hands again? This cordial welcome of yours reminds me, I do assure you, of home. Since I left New England, I’ve never met with the like of you. I do suppose now it was my hair that set Miss Regina’s back up? I’m not quite easy in my mind, ma’am, about your niece. I’m sort of feared of what she may say of me to Amelius. I meant no harm, Lord knows.”

The secret of Mrs. Farnaby’s extraordinary alacrity in the use of the towel began slowly to show itself now. The tone of her American guest had already become the friendly and familiar tone which it had been her object to establish. With a little management, he might be made an invaluable ally in the great work of hindering the marriage of Amelius.

“You are very fond of your young friend?” she began quietly.

“That is so, ma’am.”

“And he has told you that he has taken a liking to my niece?”

“And shown me her likeness,” Rufus added.

“And shown you her likeness. And you thought you would come here, and see for yourself what sort of girl she was?”

“Naturally,” Rufus admitted.

Mrs. Farnaby revealed, without further hesitation, the object that she had in view. “Amelius is little more than a lad, still,” she said. “He has got all his life before him. It would be a sad thing, if he married a girl who didn’t make him happy.” She turned in her chair, and pointed to the door by which Regina had left them. “Between ourselves,” she resumed, dropping her voice to a whisper, “do you believe my niece will make him happy?”

Rufus hesitated.

“I’m above family prejudices,” Mrs. Farnaby proceeded. “You needn’t be afraid of offending me. Speak out.”

Rufus would have spoken out to any other woman in the universe.
This
woman had preserved him from ridicule —
this
woman had rubbed his head dry. He prevaricated.

“I don’t suppose I understand the ladies in this country,” he said.

But Mrs. Farnaby was not to be trifled with. “If Amelius was your son, and if he asked you to consent to his marriage with my niece,” she rejoined, “would you say Yes?”

This was too much for Rufus. “Not if he went down on both his knees to ask me,” he answered.

Mrs. Farnaby was satisfied at last, and owned it without reserve. “My own opinion,” she said, “exactly expressed! don’t be surprised. Didn’t I tell you I had no family prejudices? Do you know if he has spoken to my husband, yet?”

Rufus looked at his watch. “I reckon he’s just about done it by this time.”

Mrs. Farnaby paused, and reflected for a moment. She had already attempted to prejudice her husband against Amelius, and had received an answer which Mr. Farnaby considered to be final. “Mr. Goldenheart honours us if he seeks our alliance; he is the representative of an old English family.” Under these circumstances, it was quite possible that the proposals of Amelius had been accepted. Mrs. Farnaby was not the less determined that the marriage should never take place, and not the less eager to secure the assistance of her new ally. “When will Amelius tell you about it?” she asked.

“When I go back to his lodgings, ma’am.”

“Go back at once — and bear this in mind as you go. If you can find out any likely way of parting these two young people (in their own best interests), depend on one thing — if I can help you, I will. I’m as fond of Amelius as you are. Ask him if I haven’t done my best to keep him away from my niece. Ask him if I haven’t expressed my opinion, that she’s not the right wife for him. Come and see me again as soon as you like. I’m fond of Americans. Good morning.”

Rufus attempted to express his sense of gratitude, in his own briefly eloquent way. He was not allowed a hearing. With one and the same action, Mrs. Farnaby patted him on the shoulder, and pushed him out of the room.

“If that woman was an American citizen,” Rufus reflected, on his way through the streets, “she’d be the first female President of the United States!” His admiration of Mrs. Farnaby’s energy and resolution, expressed in these strong terms, acknowledged but one limit. Highly as he approved of her, there was nevertheless an unfathomable something in the woman’s eyes that disturbed and daunted him.

CHAPTER 3

 

Rufus found his friend at the lodgings, prostrate on the sofa, smoking furiously. Before a word had passed between them, it was plain to the New Englander that something had gone wrong.

“Well,” he asked; “and what does Farnaby say?”

“Damn Farnaby!”

Rufus was secretly conscious of an immense sense of relief. “I call that a stiff way of putting it,” he quietly remarked; “but the meaning’s clear. Farnaby has said No.”

Amelius jumped off the sofa, and planted himself defiantly on the hearthrug.

“You’re wrong for once,” he said, with a bitter laugh. “The exasperating part of it is that Farnaby has said neither Yes nor No. The oily-whiskered brute — you haven’t seen him yet, have you? — began by saying Yes. ‘A man like me, the heir of a fine old English family, honoured him by making proposals; he could wish no more brilliant prospect for his dear adopted child. She would fill the high position that was offered to her, and fill it worthily.’ That was the fawning way in which he talked to me at first! He squeezed my hand in his horrid cold shiny paw till, I give you my word of honour, I felt as if I was going to be sick. Wait a little; you haven’t heard the worst of it yet. He soon altered his tone — it began with his asking me, if I had ‘considered the question of settlements’. I didn’t know what he meant. He had to put it in plain English; he wanted to hear what my property was. ‘Oh, that’s soon settled,’ I said. ‘I’ve got five hundred a year; and Regina is welcome to every farthing of it.’ He fell back in his chair as if I had shot him; he turned — it was worse than pale, he positively turned green. At first he wouldn’t believe me; he declared I must be joking. I set him right about that immediately. His next change was a proud impudence. ‘Have you not observed, sir, in what style Regina is accustomed to live in my house? Five hundred a year? Good heavens! With strict economy, five hundred a year might pay her milliner’s bill and the keep of her horse and carriage. Who is to pay for everything else — the establishment, the dinner-parties and balls, the tour abroad, the children, the nurses, the doctor? I tell you this, Mr. Goldenheart, I’m willing to make a sacrifice to you, as a born gentleman, which I would certainly not consent to in the case of any self-made man. Enlarge your income, sir, to no more than four times five hundred pounds, and I guarantee a yearly allowance to Regina of half as much again, besides the fortune which she will inherit at my death. That will make your income three thousand a year to start with. I know something of domestic expenses, and I tell you positively, you can’t do it on a farthing less.’ That was his language, Rufus. The insolence of his tone I can’t attempt to describe. If I hadn’t thought of Regina, I should have behaved in a manner unworthy of a Christian — I believe I should have taken my walking-cane, and given him a sound thrashing.”

Rufus neither expressed surprise nor offered advice. He was lost in meditation on the wealth of Mr. Farnaby. “A stationer’s business seems to eventuate in a lively profit, in this country,” he said.

“A stationer’s business?” Amelius repeated disdainfully. “Farnaby has half a dozen irons in the fire besides that. He’s got a newspaper, and a patent medicine, and a new bank, and I don’t know what else. One of his own friends said to me, ‘Nobody knows whether Farnaby is rich or poor; he is going to do one of two things — he is going to die worth millions, or to die bankrupt.’ Oh, if I can only live to see the day when Socialism will put that sort of man in his right place!”

“Try a republic, on our model, first,” said Rufus. “When Farnaby talks of the style his young woman is accustomed to live in, what does he mean?”

“He means,” Amelius answered smartly, “a carriage to drive out in, champagne on the table, and a footman to answer the door.”

“Farnaby’s ideas, sir, have crossed the water and landed in New York,” Rufus remarked. “Well, and what did you say to him, on your side?”

“I gave it to him, I can tell you! ‘That’s all ostentation,’ I said. ‘Why can’t Regina and I begin life modestly? What do we want with a carriage to drive out in, and champagne on the table, and a footman to answer the door? We want to love each other and be happy. There are thousands of as good gentlemen as I am, in England, with wives and families, who would ask for nothing better than an income of five hundred a year. The fact is, Mr. Farnaby, you’re positively saturated with the love of money. Get your New Testament and read what Christ says of rich people.’ What do you think he did, when I put it in that unanswerable way? He held up his hand, and looked horrified. ‘I can’t allow profanity in my office,’ says he. ‘I have my New Testament read to me in church, sir, every Sunday.’ That’s the sort of Christian, Rufus, who is the average product of modern times! He was as obstinate as a mule; he wouldn’t give way a single inch. His adopted daughter, he said, was accustomed to live in a certain style. In that same style she should live when she was married, so long as he had a voice in the matter. Of course, if she chose to set his wishes and feelings at defiance, in return for all that he had done for her, she was old enough to take her own way. In that case, he would tell me as plainly as he meant to tell her, that she must not look to a single farthing of his money to help her, and not expect to find her name down in his will. He felt the honour of a family alliance with me as sincerely as ever. But he must abide by the conditions that he had stated. On those terms, he would be proud to give me the hand of Regina at the altar, and proud to feel that he had done his duty by his adopted child. I let him go on till he had run himself out — and then I asked quietly, if he could tell me the way to increase my income to two thousand a year. How do you think he answered me?”

“Perhaps he offered to utilise your capital in his business,” Rufus guessed.

“Not he! He considered business quite beneath me; my duty to myself, as a gentleman, was to adopt a profession. On reflection, it turned out that there was but one likely profession to try, in my case — the Law. I might be called to the Bar, and (with luck) I might get remunerative work to do, in eight or ten years’ time. That, I declare to you, was the prospect he set before me, if I chose to take his advice. I asked if he was joking. Certainly not! I was only one-and-twenty years old (he reminded me); I had plenty of time to spare — I should still marry young if I married at thirty. I took up my hat, and gave him a bit of my mind at parting. ‘If you really mean anything,’ I said, ‘you mean that Regina is to pine and fade and be a middle-aged woman, and that I am to resist the temptations that beset a young man in London, and lead the life of a monk for the next ten years — and all for what? For a carriage to ride out in, champagne on the table, and a footman to answer the door! Keep your money, Mr. Farnaby; Regina and I will do without it.’ — What are you laughing at? I don’t think you could have put it more strongly yourself.”

Rufus suddenly recovered his gravity. “I tell you this, Amelius,” he replied; “you afford (as we say in my country) meaty fruit for reflection — you do.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, I reckon you remember when we were aboard the boat. You gave us a narrative of what happened in that Community of yours, which I can truly cha
rac
terise as a combination of native eloquence and chastening good sense. I put the question to myself, sir, what has become of that well-informed and discreet young Christian, now he has changed the sphere to England and mixed with the Farnabys? It’s not to be denied that I see him before me in the flesh when I look across the table here; but it’s equally true that I miss him altogether, in the spirit.”

Amelius sat down again on the sofa. “In plain words,” he said, “you think I have behaved like a fool in this matter?”

Rufus crossed his long legs, and nodded his head in silent approval. Instead of taking offence, Amelius considered a little.

“It didn’t strike me before,” he said. “But, now you mention it, I can understand that I appear to be a simple sort of fellow in what is called Society here; and the reason, I suspect, is that it’s not the society in which I have been accustomed to mix. The Farnabys are new to me, Rufus. When it comes to a question of my life at Tadmor, of what I saw and learnt and felt in the Community — then, I can think and speak like a reasonable being, because I am thinking and speaking of what I know thoroughly well. Hang it, make some allowance for the difference of circumstances! Besides, I’m in love, and that alters a man — and, I have heard some people say, not always for the better. Anyhow, I’ve done it with Farnaby, and it can’t be undone. There will be no peace for me now, till I have spoken to Regina. I have read the note you left for me. Did you see her, when you called at the house?”

Other books

Enraptured by Candace Camp
Eternal Rider by Ione, Larissa
One Week In December by Holly Chamberlin
Diners, Dives & Dead Ends by Austin, Terri L.
Forgiven by Vanessa Miller
Hornet’s Sting by Derek Robinson
The Martini Shot by George Pelecanos
Atlantis Pyramids Floods by Dennis Brooks