Читать книгу Cressage - A. C. Benson - Страница 8

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The Squire announced one morning in the course of breakfast that visitors were expected to luncheon.

"Mr. Worsley," he said, "is a worthy man and, what I conceive is rare in the legal profession, a sympathetic man. Every now and then I have some little design--sometimes perhaps a little too idealistic, as my designs are apt to be--involving an unusual expense. I submit such to Mr. Worsley. Either he works out some practical execution, or he tells me with courteous frankness that it is impracticable--I am guided largely by his advice. He is to be accompanied by his daughter, now, since the recent death of his wife, the mistress of his house--a fact which it behoves me to be among the first to recognize. Our little luncheon-party then--for Mr. and Mrs. Goring are also joining us--is not a mere social ceremony; it partakes of the nature of a recognition of Mr. Worsley's efficiency. I gather from his letter that he values the privilege highly. He has partaken of luncheon here before, but as a mere adjunct to a business interview. My reason for telling you all this is that I mean to call upon the younger members of our circle--if I may include Mr. Norton in that designation--to do their best by chivalrous attentions to save the girl, who is, I imagine, quite unused to any but professional company, from the embarrassment she may naturally feel and be excused for feeling. For the entertainment of the elder members of the company, mamma and I gladly hold ourselves responsible." And the Squire looked round at the table with the air of a man pronouncing a benediction.

"We mustn't let papa tire himself too much," said good Mrs. Garnet. "My husband, Mr. Norton, is not one of those who at his own table or at anyone else's can be content to be a mere listener and consumer. I always say that he puts to shame the gruff and silent people whom in old days we used to meet more than we do now. He has a very sensitive conscience about such things, and he is never satisfied unless he is contributing largely to the mirth and animation of a party."

"That is a fact," said Norton, almost alarmed at his own effrontery, "which I have already had the pleasure of discovering for myself."

When the two young men went out, Walter said to Norton, "You played up well this morning, Harry, with your little compliments. Isn't it odd, though, that when my father is talking--it is rather an old-fashioned style, I expect--everyone who joins in uses the same sort of sentences. Your remark was not in the least in your style, and quite in his."

"Isn't that always so?" said Norton. "I always notice in printed letters how much their style is affected by the correspondents to whom they are addressed. Ruskin's letters to Carlyle might have been written by Carlyle himself--it is a sort of unconscious sympathy. But who are these people? I like to know about people before I meet them."

"I believe Worsley is a man who has raised himself," said Walter. "He was once clerk to a firm of solicitors--now he is senior partner. I don't altogether like him, though he is very civil. I have met the daughter once or twice--rather nice-looking, but a little intense. Mrs. Goring is a dear old thing, rather a pal of my mother's. And it won't be a very real affair. My father rather alarms people. He always seems to be the only person in the room. Why is that, do you think?"

"Because he is a very real person, I expect," said Norton.

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When Norton came into the parlour, the Gorings had arrived. Goring was engaged in discussing some philanthropic matter with Mrs. Garnet. Mrs. Goring was listening to the Squire, and he heard her say, "No, it's no use, Squire, your pretending not to know. You know more about the parish down to the smallest details, than any of us, and how you do it, I never can make out."

"I keep my eyes and ears open," said the Squire in great good humour.

"Yes, but so do we all," said Mrs. Goring, "but we see and hear nothing. My dear William sees and hears nothing. I have to be always nudging him. It's a signal between us for him to say something. 'But I have nothing to say,' he says. 'Never mind that,' I say, 'say anything--admire something in the room; if it is wrong, I can set it right.' Look at William now--he has already forgotten where he is--he is no courtier."

"My dear Mrs. Goring," said the Squire, "we are old friends, and there is no need for ceremony here."

"Yes, but, excuse me, there is," said Mrs. Goring. "Of course you have a way of putting people at their ease, but you are a very formidable person for all that."

The Squire beckoned to Norton. "Let me present to you Mr. Norton, Walter's Oxford tutor. Walter owes everything to Mr. Norton in the way of academical distinction."

"He owes much more to his inherited abilities," said Norton, smiling.

"You are all determined to put me out of countenance to-day," said the Squire. "I can never persuade Mr. Norton what an ignoramus I am."

"If it were not you, Squire," said Mrs. Goring, "I should say you were fishing for a compliment."

At this moment Mr. Worsley made his appearance. He was a lean, large-featured man with very conspicuous white teeth and a carefully disposed smile. His daughter, thought Norton, was a remarkably pretty girl, fresh-coloured, boyish-looking, with large clear eyes. An exchange of courtesies took place. Mrs. Garnet, to Norton's pleasure, drew the girl to her and gave a motherly kiss. Mr. Worsley bowed to each member of the party with much elasticity, and uttered polite impartial greetings in a dry expressionless voice. "Most kind of you to ask us--very good of you to include my Helen--a red-letter day for us both--Mr. Goring, you are looking very well--it does you credit, Mrs. Goring--Ah, Mr. Walter, I have to congratulate you, a really most distinguished performance--Mr. Norton, of Stafford College?--this is indeed a pleasure--we have done a little business with your good Bursar, sir, about the farm at Aston Bulleign. Really a most interesting reunion this, Mrs. Garnet."

The Squire listened smiling, as a drowsy deity might accept a psalm. A procession was mustered; the Squire was adamant about going in arm-in-arm to a party of ceremony. He led in Mrs. Goring, Miss Worsley fell to Norton. Mr. Worsley, with a little disclaimer from him in Mr. Goring's favour, led off Mrs. Garnet, and Mr. Goring, not ill-pleased, tucked his arm into Walter's.

At luncheon, Norton found himself between Mr. and Mrs. Goring, while Walter was between Helen and Mr. Worsley.

The Squire, after a few elaborate compliments to Helen, resigned himself to the more congenial atmosphere of Mrs. Goring, and then assumed the general direction of the talk. To Norton's delight, the Duke and the Magistrates' meeting soon made their appearance. "You can bear me out in this, Worsley," the Squire said at intervals.

"Indeed I can," said Mr. Worsley; "and I must beg leave to assure the present company that there were other expressions that fell from the Duke, when Mr. Garnet left us, which His Grace could hardly have entered into in Mr. Garnet's presence, but which I must be allowed the privilege of recounting."

"Come, Worsley," said the Squire, "this is too much like eavesdropping."

But Mrs. Goring was so insistent, and declared that her pleasure would be so ruined if she did not hear, that the Squire relented.

As a matter of literal fact, the door had no sooner closed behind Mr. Garnet on the occasion referred to, when the Duke said in a very lusty voice, "Good God, what a fellow! He seems to think we have nothing better to do than to listen to him. Let us get on with the business." This, however, was Mr. Worsley's version.

"The Duke began by observing--you know his hearty way," said Mr. Worsley, "'What a good fellow!' He went on to say that they could hardly be better employed than in listening to Mr. Garnet, but that as he was obliged to go, they must endeavour to get through the business without the advantage of his advice--and the Duke," added Mr. Worsley, "is not a man who minces matters."

Mrs. Goring clapped her hands. "And our Squire is surprised that we are proud of him!" she said.

"There's only one omission in your story, Worsley," said Mr. Goring.

"Pray what is that?" said Worsley a little fidgety.

"Well, I wasn't there, of course; but anyone who knows the Duke must be aware that he could hardly have got through so long a sentence, without the addition of what shall I say?--an expletive!"

Everyone smiled. "Well, I call that rather a shame!" said Mrs. Garnet.

"Mr. Goring is right!" said Mr. Worsley. "I omitted it, with perhaps undue discretion. His Grace did emphasize--I might say 'underlined' one word, in his soldierly fashion. But I should add that it only redounded to Mr. Garnet's credit."

"I do not myself," said the Squire, looking round with a smile, "indulge in such 'underlining'--I thank Mr. Worsley for that word--but such expressions are largely a matter of temperament and usage."

"They have no moral significance of course?" said Mr. Goring ironically.

"You are right," said the Squire. "With the Duke they are merely a matter of military emphasis. We may remember that our Iron Duke was not wholly guiltless in this respect. But out of regard for our younger companions, we will not pursue the subject. There are many things in this life of ours which we may regret, but are powerless to remove--and Mr. Norton will bear me out when I say that human nature has a certain irrepressible element."

"Yes," said Norton, "even a conscientious Don cannot wholly eliminate that."

"The Bishop told me the other day," said Mrs. Goring, "that he had good reason to believe that profanity in conversation was more or less decisively on the wane."

"That is certainly my experience," said Mr. Worsley; "it is far less common now to hear these hasty and, to my mind, very undesirable expressions on the lips of clients. But let us hear what Mr. Walter says about the younger generation."

"Such words," said Walter, "have not quite gone out; but one of our men was dining the other day with the Master, and an old Colonel told a story, when the ladies had gone out, which Vickers said was rather highly-seasoned. The Master only said, 'You must tell that story again to the ladies, when we go to the drawing-room.'"

"Perhaps the good Master did not know what the meaning of the words was," said Mr. Worsley.

"Perhaps," said Walter.

At this point Helen became suddenly rather red, and drank a glass of water hurriedly. Mrs. Goring came gallantly to the rescue. "There is one thing I meant to ask you, Squire. What is there in the rumour I have heard that a peerage may shortly be offered to the representative of one of our oldest County families?"

"I have heard nothing of it," said the Squire, "though I can well understand His Majesty thinking it desirable to gild the crudity of some of these recent creations by a touch of tradition and antiquity. The House of Lords is lamentably lacking in tone. I understand indeed that it has become almost habitual for the Lord Chancellor to be the offspring of a hairdresser, and I can hardly believe that our hairdressers--though it is a most respectable and, I might say, necessary avocation--can claim so high a proportion of representation."

"But you would admit that it is an encouragement to the lower orders," said Mr. Worsley.

"It is an encouragement, no doubt," said the Squire; "but I am constitutionally unable to take the popular point of view; and in my old-fashioned way I consider that the lower orders have received far more encouragement than they have deserved."

"Papa dear," said Mrs. Garnet ingratiatingly, "you must not allow our guests to be too serious on a day like this. This is Helen's party, and I am going to carry her and Mrs. Goring off for a chat over our coffee. We shall leave you to your wine and to your--what was the word, Walter--your well-seasoned stories."

"A very tactful reminder, my dear," said the Squire. "Miss Helen will forgive me for seeming to forget that our future is behind us, while her past is still in front of her."

"Admirably said, sir," said Mr. Worsley. "I must remember that. Her future is before her and our past is behind us. Very true; and if I may say so, very epigrammatic."

As they rose, Norton saw Walter say something in a low tone to Helen. She shook her head, and went sedately out with the Dowagers.