Dr Thorne (13 page)

‘Then you cannot have Miss Moffat,' said Beatrice.

‘No; I would not if I could help it,' said the cousin.

‘But the Thornes are as good a family as the Greshams,' said Beatrice. She had not quite courage to say, as good as the De Courcys.

‘I dare say they are; and if this was Miss Thorne of Ullathorne, Augusta probably would not object to her. But can you tell me who Miss Mary Thorne is?'

‘She is Dr Thorne's niece.'

‘You mean that she is called so; but do you know who her father was, or who her mother was? I, for one, must own I do not. Mamma, I believe, does, but –'

At this moment the door opened gently, and Mary Thorne entered the room.

It may easily be conceived, that while Mary was making her salutations the three other young ladies were a little cast aback. The Lady Alexandrina, however, quickly recovered herself, and, by her inimitable presence of mind and facile grace of manner, soon put the matter on a proper footing.

‘We were discussing Miss Gresham's marriage,' said she; ‘I am sure I may mention to an acquaintance of so long standing as Miss Thorne, that the first of September has been now fixed for the wedding.'

Miss Gresham! Acquaintance of so long standing! Why, Mary and Augusta Gresham had for years, we will hardly say now for how many, passed their mornings together in the same schoolroom; had quarrelled and squabbled, and caressed and kissed, and been all but as sisters to each other. Acquaintance, indeed! Beatrice felt that her ears were tingling, and even Augusta was a little ashamed. Mary, however, knew that the cold words had come from a De Courcy, and not from a Gresham, and did not, therefore, resent them.

‘So it's settled, Augusta, is it?' said she; ‘the first of September. I wish you joy with all my heart,' and coming round, she put her arm over Augusta's shoulder and kissed her. The Lady Alexandrina could not but think that the doctor's niece uttered her congratulations very much as though she were speaking to an equal; very much as though she had a father and mother of her own.

‘You will have delicious weather,' continued Mary. ‘September, and the beginning of October, is the nicest time of the year. If I were going honeymooning it is just the time of year I would choose.'

‘I wish you were, Mary,' said Beatrice.

‘So do not I, dear, till I have found some decent sort of a body to honeymoon along with me. I won't stir out of Greshamsbury till I have sent you off before me, at any rate. And where will you go, Augusta?'

‘We have not settled that,' said Augusta. ‘Mr Moffat talks of Paris.'

‘Who ever heard of going to Paris in September?' said the Lady Alexandrina.

‘Or who ever heard of the gentleman having anything to say on the matter?' said the doctor's niece. ‘Of course Mr Moffat will go wherever you are pleased to take him.'

The Lady Alexandrina was not pleased to find how completely the doctor's niece took upon herself to talk, and sit, and act at Greshamsbury as though she was on a par with the young ladies of the family. That Beatrice should have allowed this would not have surprised her; but it was to be expected that Augusta would have shown better judgement.

‘These things require some tact in their management; some delicacy when high interests are at stake,' said she. ‘I agree with Miss Thorne in thinking that, in ordinary circumstances, with ordinary people, perhaps, the lady should have her way. Rank, however, has its drawbacks, Miss Thorne, as well as its privileges.'

‘I should not object to the drawbacks,' said the doctor's niece, ‘presuming them to be of some use; but I fear I might fail in getting on so well with the privileges.'

The Lady Alexandrina looked at her as though not fully aware whether she intended to be pert. In truth, the Lady Alexandrina
was rather in the dark on the subject. It was almost impossible, it was incredible, that a fatherless, motherless, doctor's niece should be pert to an earl's daughter at Greshamsbury, seeing that that earl's daughter was the cousin of the Miss Greshams. And yet the Lady Alexandrina hardly knew what other construction to put on the words she had just heard.

It was at any rate clear to her that it was not becoming that she should just then stay any longer in that room. Whether she intended to be pert or not, Miss Mary Thorne was, to say the least, very free. The De Courcy ladies knew what was due to them – no ladies better; and, therefore, the Lady Alexandrina made up her mind at once to go to her own bedroom.

‘Augusta,' she said, rising slowly from her chair with much stately composure, ‘it is nearly time to dress; will you come with me? We have a great deal to settle, you know.'

So she swam out of the room, and Augusta, telling Mary that she would see her again at dinner, swam – no, tried to swim – after her. Miss Gresham had had great advantages; but she had not been absolutely brought up at Courcy Castle, and could not as yet quite assume the Courcy style of swimming.

‘There,' said Mary, as the door closed behind the rustling muslins of the ladies. ‘There, I have made an enemy for ever, perhaps two; that's satisfactory.'

‘And why have you done it, Mary? When I am fighting your battles behind your back, why do you come and upset it all by making the whole family of the De Courcys dislike you? In such a matter as that, they'll all go together.'

‘I am sure they will,' said Mary; ‘whether they would be equally unanimous in a case of love and charity, that, indeed, is another question.'

‘But why should you try to make my cousin angry; you that ought to have so much sense? Don't you remember what you were saying yourself the other day, of the absurdity of combating pretences which the world sanctions?'

‘I do, Trichy, I do; don't scold me now. It is so much easier to preach than to practise. I do so wish I was a clergyman.'

‘But you have done so much harm, Mary.'

‘Have I?' said Mary, kneeling down on the ground at her friend's feet. ‘If I humble myself very low; if I kneel through the
whole evening in a corner; if I put my neck down and let all your cousins trample on it, and then your aunt, would not that make atonement? I would not object to wearing sackcloth, either; and I'd eat a little ashes – or, at any rate, I'd try.'

‘I know you're very clever, Mary; but still I think you're a fool. I do, indeed.'

‘I am a fool, Trichy, I do confess it; and am not a bit clever; but don't scold me; you see how humble I am; not only humble but umble, which I look upon to be the comparative, or, indeed, superlative degree. Or perhaps there are four degrees; humble, umble, stumble, tumble; and then, when one is absolutely in the dirt at their feet, perhaps these big people won't wish one to stoop any further.'

‘Oh, Mary!'

‘Ánd, oh, Trichy! you don't mean to say I mayn't speak out before you. There, perhaps you'd like to put your foot on my neck.' And then she put her head down to the footstool and kissed Beatrice's foot.

‘I'd like, if I dared, to put my hand on your cheek and give you a good slap for being such a goose.'

‘Do; do, Trichy: you shall tread on me, or slap me, or kiss me; whichever you like.'

‘I can't tell you how vexed I am,' said Beatrice; ‘I wanted to arrange something.'

‘Arrange something! What? arrange what? I love arranging. I fancy myself qualified to be an arranger-general in female matters. I mean pots and pans, and such like. Of course I don't allude to extraordinary people and extraordinary circumstances that require tact, and delicacy, and drawbacks, and that sort of thing.'

‘Very well, Mary.'

‘But it's not very well; it's very bad if you look like that. Well, my pet, there, I won't. I won't allude to the noble blood of your noble relatives either in joke or in earnest. What is it you want to arrange, Trichy?'

‘I want you to be one of Augusta's bridesmaids.'

‘Good heavens, Beatrice! Are you mad? What! put me, even for a morning, into the same category of finery as the noble brood from Courcy Castle!'

‘Patience is to be one.'

‘But that is no reason why Impatience should be another, and I should be very impatient under such honours. No, Trichy; joking apart, do not think of it. Even if Augusta wished it I should refuse. I should be obliged to refuse. I, too, suffer from pride; a pride quite as unpardonable as that of others: I could not stand with your four lady-cousins behind your sister at the altar. In such a galaxy they would be the stars, and I –'

‘Why, Mary, all the world knows that you are prettier than any of them!'

‘I am all the world's very humble servant. But, Trichy, I should not object if I were as ugly as the veiled prophet
¹
and they all as beautiful as Zuleika.
²
The glory of that galaxy will be held to depend not on its beauty, but on its birth. You know how they would look at me; how they would scorn me; and there, in church, at the altar, with all that is solemn round us, I could not return their scorn as I might do elsewhere. In a room I'm not a bit afraid of them all.' And Mary was again allowing herself to be absorbed by that feeling of indomitable pride, of antagonism to the pride of others, which she herself in her cooler moments was the first to blame.

‘You often say, Mary, that that sort of arrogance should be despised and passed over without notice.'

‘So it should, Trichy. I tell you that as the clergyman tells you to hate riches. But though the clergyman tells you so, he is not the less anxious to get rich himself.'

‘I particularly wish you to be one of Augusta's bridesmaids.'

‘And I particularly wish to decline the honour; which honour has not been, and will not be, offered to me. No, Trichy. I will not be Augusta's bridesmaid, but – but – but –'

‘But what, dearest?'

‘But, Trichy, when someone else is married, when the new wing has been built to a house that you know of–'

‘Now, Mary, hold your tongue, or you know you'll make me angry.'

‘I do so like to see you angry. And when that time comes, when that wedding does take place, then I will be a bridesmaid, Trichy. Yes! even though I am not invited. Yes! though all the De Courcys in Barsetshire should tread upon me and obliterate me. Though I should be as dust among the stars, though I should
creep up in calico among their satins and lace, I will nevertheless be there; close, close to the bride; to hold something for her, to touch her dress, to feel that I am near her, to – to – to –' and she threw her arms round her companion, and kissed her over and over again. ‘No, Trichy; I won't be Augusta's bridesmaid; I'll bide my time for bridesmaiding.'

What protestations Beatrice made against the probability of such an event as was foreshadowed in her friend's promise we will not now repeat. The afternoon was advancing, and the ladies also had to dress for dinner, to do honour to the young heir.

W
E
have said that over and above those assembled in the house there came to the Greshamsbury dinner on Frank's birthday the Jacksons of the Grange, consisting of Mr and Mrs Jackson; the Batesons from Annesgrove, viz., Mr and Mrs Bateson, and Miss Bateson, their daughter – an unmarried lady of about fifty; the Bakers of Mill Hill, father and son; and Mr Caleb Oriel, the rector, with his beautiful sister, Patience. Dr Thorne, and his niece Mary, we count among those already assembled at Greshamsbury.

There was nothing very magnificent in the number of the guests thus brought together to do honour to young Frank; but he, perhaps, was called on to take a more prominent part in the proceedings, to be made more of a hero than would have been the case had half the county been there. In that case the importance of the guests would have been so great that Frank would have got off with a half-muttered speech or two; but now he had to make a separate oration to everyone, and very weary work he found it.

The Batesons, Bakers, and Jacksons were very civil; no doubt the more so from an unconscious feeling on their part, that as the squire was known to be a little out at elbows as regards money, any deficiency on their part might be considered as owing to the present state of affairs at Greshamsbury. Fourteen thousand a year will receive honour; in that case there is no doubt, and the man absolutely possessing it is not apt to be suspicious as to the treatment he may receive; but the ghost of fourteen thousand a year is not always so self-assured. Mr Baker, with his moderate income, was a very much richer man than the squire; and, therefore, he was peculiarly forward in congratulating Frank on the brilliancy of his prospects.

Poor Frank had hardly anticipated what there would be to do, and before dinner was announced he was very tired of it. He had no warmer feeling for any of his grand cousins than a very ordinary cousinly love; and he had resolved, forgetful of birth and blood, and all those gigantic considerations which, now that manhood had come upon him, he was bound always to bear in mind, he had resolved to sneak out to dinner comfortably with Mary Thorne if possible; and if not with Mary, then with his other love, Patience Oriel.