Читать книгу Roland Cashel, Volume II (of II) - Lever Charles James - Страница 9

There was but one species of tyranny Mr. Kennyfeck ever attempted in his family: this was, to shroud with a solemn mystery every little event in his professional career which he saw excited any curiosity with his wife and daughters. It was true that on such occasions he became a mark for most sneering insinuations and derisive commentaries, but he rose with the dignity of a martyr above all their taunts, and doubtless felt in his heart the supporting energy of a high-priest standing watch over the gate of the Temple.

The few pencilled lines by Cashel, which had summoned him to the meeting recorded in the last chapter, he threw into the fire as soon as he had read, and then arising from the breakfast-table, dryly observed, —

“Don’t wait breakfast, Mrs. Kennyfeck; I shall not be back for some time.”

“Another secret, Mr. Kennyfeck?” said his wife, scoffingly.

He only smiled in reply.

“It ought to be a duel, at least, pa,” said his eldest daughter, “from the urgent haste of your departure.”

“Or a runaway couple, who wish to have the settlements – ”

“Is that all you know of the matter, Livy?” said her sister, laughing heartily; “why, child, your Gretna Green folks never have settlements – never think of them till six months later, when they are wanting to separate.”

“Is there any occasion for mystery in this case?” rejoined Mrs. Kennyfeck, haughtily.

“To be sure there may, my dear,” broke in Aunt Fanny; “there ‘s many a dirty thing the lawyers have to do they ‘d be ashamed to own before their families.”

Even this did not move Mr. Kennyfeck, and, although from the way he nestled his chin behind the folds of his white cravat, and a certain scarcely perceptible shake of the head, it was clear he longed to refute the foul aspersion.

“I suppose you will appear at dinner, sir?” said Mrs. Kennyfeck, with her grandest air.

“I hope so, Mrs. Kennyfeck,” was the mild answer.

“Without you should take it into your head, pa, to enter into rivalry with Mr. Linton, and stay away, heaven knows where or how long,” said Miss Kennyfeck.

Mr. Kennyfeck did not wait for more, but left the room with an air whose solemnity well suited any amount of secrecy.

“Is there a carriage at the door?” said Mrs. Kennyfeck.

“No, mamma; there are three saddle-horses – one with a side-saddle. That odious Miss Meek!” exclaimed Miss Kennyfeck; “what Lord Charles can see in her I cannot conceive. To be sure, she saves a stable-boy the more, and that to him is something.”

“Has your father gone out by the back terrace?” resumed Mrs. Kennyfeck, one only theme occupying her thoughts.

Olivia retired into an adjoining room, and soon returned, saying, —

“No, ma; there’s no one there, except Sir Andrew and Lady Janet, taking their morning walk.”

“Their run, rather, my dear,” chimed in Miss Kennyfeck, “for she chases the poor old man up and down with a cup of camomile tea, which either scalds or sets him a-coughing. I ‘m sure that tiresome old couple have awoke me every day the last week with their squabbling.”

“Step down into the library, my love,” said Mrs. Kennyfeck to her younger daughter, “and bring, me up the ‘Post’ or the ‘St. James’s Chronicle.’”

“And if you meet Phillis, Just ask if he saw your father, for he forgot his gloves.” And, suiting the action to the word, Aunt Fanny dived into a cavern of an apron-pocket, and drew out a pair of knitted things without fingers, which she offered to Olivia.

“Do no such thing, Miss Olivia Kennyfeck,” said her mamma, with an air of imposing grandeur.

“Ma wants the newspaper, Olivia, and is not thinking of papa,” said Miss Kennyfeck; and her eyes sparkled with a malicious fun she well knew how to enjoy.

As Miss Olivia Kennyfeck left the room, her sister approached the fireplace, where a small charred portion of the note thrown down by her father was yet lying. She took it, and walking toward the window, examined it carefully.

And while we leave her thus occupied, let us, for the reader’s information – albeit he may deem the matter trivial – give the contents as Cashel wrote them: —

Dear Mr. Kennyfeck, – Make my excuses to Mrs. Kennyfeck and the Demoiselles Cary and Olivia, if I deprive them of your society this morning at breakfast, for I shall want your counsel and assistance in the settlement of some difficult affairs. I have been shamefully backward in paying my respectful addresses to the ladies of your family; but to-day, if they will permit, I intend to afford myself that pleasure. It is as a friend, and not as my counsel learned in law, I ask your presence with me in my library at ten o’clock. Till then,

Believe me yours,

R. C.

Now, of this very commonplace document, a few blackened, crumpled, frail fragments were all that remained; and these, even to the searching dark eyes of Miss Kennyfeck, revealed very little. Indeed, had they not been written in Cashel’s hand, she would have thrown them away at once, as unworthy of further thought. This fact, and the word “Olivia,” which she discovered after much scrutiny, however, excited all her zeal, and she labored now like an antiquarian who believes he has gained the clew to some mysterious inscription. She gathered up the two or three filmy black bits of paper which yet lay within the fender, and placing them before her, studied them long and carefully. The word “settlement” was clear as print.

“‘Olivia and ‘settlement’ in the same paper,” thought she; “what can this mean?

“Come here, mamma – Aunt Fanny – look at this for a moment,” said she, eagerly; and the two ladies approached at her bidding.

“What is that word?” she said to Mrs. Kennyfeck; “is it not ‘Olivia’? Don’t you see the end of the ‘l’ has been burned away, but the rest is quite plain?”

“So it is – upon my life! – and in Cashel’s hand, too!” exclaimed Mrs. Kennyfeck.

“And what is that?” asked Miss Kennyfeck, triumphantly, pointing to another word.

Aunt Fanny, with her spectacles on, bent down, and examined it long.

“‘Battlement.’ That is ‘battlement’ as clear as day,” said she.

“What nonsense, aunt – it is ‘settlement.’ Look at what you call a ‘b’ – it is an ‘s.’”

“Cary’s quite right. The word is ‘settlement,’” said Mrs. Kennyfeck, in a voice tremulous with joy.

“And there! – I hope you can read!” exclaimed Miss Kennyfeck, “even without your spectacles – ‘paying’ – ‘addresses.’”

“Show it to me, Cary,” said her mother, eagerly. “I declare I can read it perfectly. Is it possible? – can this be indeed true?”

“Of course it is, mamma. Will you tell me by what other coincidence you could find Olivia’s name coupled with the words ‘settlement’ and ‘addresses’ in the same note?”

“It is very suspicious, certainly,” said Aunt Fanny.

“I think it very convincing, aunt – not suspicious,” said Miss Kennyfeck, proudly. “Here is something about ‘friend,’ and another word I can’t make out.”

“That’s something about a ‘saw,’ my love,” said Aunt Fanny.

“How absurd, aunt; the word is ‘law.’ I have it. See – here is the name – it is the conclusion of the note, and ran, doubtless, thus: ‘Your present friend, and future son-in-law, – R. C.”

Mrs. Kennyfeck leaned forward, and kissed her daughter’s cheek with a degree of fervor she very rarely gave way to; and then, lying back in her chair, pressed her handkerchief to her face, while she, doubtless, revelled in a little excursion of fancy, not the less brilliant because tempered with anxiety.

If the moment was one of maternal ecstasy for Mrs. Kennyfeck, it was no less one of triumphant joy to her daughter. It was she who revealed the secret meaning; her skill and ingenuity had given light to the dark mystery, and consistency to its incoherence. What domination could be too great for such services? It was then, like a legitimate sovereign assuming the reins of government, she said, —

“I beg, Aunt Fanny, that you will not spoil the game this time, as most unquestionably you did before.”

“Let us see that there is one to be spoiled, my dear,” rejoined Aunt Fanny, snappishly.

“You are really too provoking, Fanny,” said Mrs. Kennyfeck, removing her handkerchief from two very red eyelids. “You never are satisfied when you see us happy. Cary has shown you enough to convince any one – ”

“Anyone disposed to conviction, mamma,” broke in Miss Kennyfeck, haughtily. “Hush, here’s Olivia.”

“Mr. Meek is reading the ‘Post,’ ma,” said the young lady, entering; “and he has got the other papers in his pocket, but he says there’s really nothing of any interest in them.”

“I think Livy should be told, mamma,” whispered Miss Kennyfeck to her mother.

“I quite agree with you, Cary,” said Mrs. Kennyfeck; “I never was a friend to any secrecy in families. Your father, indeed, I grieve to say, does not participate in my sentiments; but much may be excused in him, from the habits of his profession, and, I will also say, from the class in life he sprang from.” Here Mrs. Kennyfeck, who had spoken like one delivering an oracle, stopped to drop a tear over the sad mésalliance which had condemned her to become the wife of an attorney. “Olivia, my dear, circumstances have disclosed the nature of the interview which Mr. Kennyfeck would not confide to us. It is one in which you are deeply concerned, my dear. Have you any suspicion to what I allude?”

Olivia assumed her very sweetest look of innocence, but made no reply.

“Mamma wants you to be candid enough to say, if there is anything in the way of particular attention you may have received lately, which should corroborate the impressions we entertain.”

Miss Kennyfeck delivered these words so categorically, that her sister well knew how, in the event of refusal, a searching cross-examination was reserved for her.

Olivia looked down, and a very slight embarrassment might be detected in the quickened heaving of her chest.

“Tell us, my darling,” said Aunt Fanny, “if – if any one has, in a manner so to say – you understand – eh?”

“Keep the blushes, Livy, for another time; they look beautiful with orange flowers in the hair,” said her sister; “but be candid with us.”

“If you mean attentions, mamma – ”

“We mean attentions, ‘and something more,’ as Lord Lyndburst says,” interposed Miss Kennyfeck, who felt that she was the proper person to conduct the inquiry.

“I cannot positively say, mamma, that we are engaged, but I believe that if you and pa made no obstacles – if, in fact, you are satisfied that his rank and fortune are sufficient for your expectations, as I own they are for mine – ”

“What humility!” exclaimed Miss Kennyfeck, holding up her hands.

“Hush, Cary – go on, Livy,” said her mother.

“I have no more to say, mamma. Sir Harvey told me – ”

“Sir Harvey!” cried Mrs. Kennyfeck.

“Sir Harvey Upton!” echoed Miss Kennyfeck.

“The man with the hair all over his face!” exclaimed Aunt Fanny, whose western habits had not accustomed her to mustaches.

Olivia stared from one to the other in mingled fear and astonishment. She suddenly saw that she had been betrayed into a confession to which they did not possess the slightest clew; she also perceived that the tidings, for which she anticipated a most joyous welcome, were received with coldness and almost disdain.

“He is a baronet, mamma, with very great expectations,” said she, proudly; for really, it was a large “bird” to bag, in the beginning of the season, too!

“Very possibly,” said Mrs. Kennyfeck, looking to her elder daughter with that silent eloquence which the court occasionally bestows upon the crown counsel, meaning to say: “Have you anything to reply to that?”

“Mamma is aware that Sir Harvey is a baronet, and a captain of Hussars, and Jonas Upton of Somerton is his uncle, who may, or may not, leave him his large estates – a circumstance, most probably, mainly dependent on the alliance he may form in marriage.”

“Yes, indeed! my dear,” broke in Aunt Fanny; “and when the old man finds out that ‘tis only an attorney’s daughter – ”

“Fanny, do you mean to drive me distracted?” screamed Mrs. Kennyfeck; “are my children to be taught to be ashamed of their father?”

“‘T is a lesson they might know by heart, this time of day, my dear,” said the inexorable Fanny, who put up her spectacles, and smoothed down her apron, – unmistakable signs that she was preparing for battle.

“You need n’t ‘beat to quarters,’ aunt, as Captain Luttredge says; there is no one going to fire into you,” said Miss Kennyfeck. “The question at present is, how is Olivia to free herself from an unhappy connection – ”

“An unhappy connection!” exclaimed Livy, in amazement.

“Listen to your sister, and don’t interrupt her,” said Mrs. Kennyfeck.

“I spoke advisedly, Livy,” resumed the elder, “when I called your connection with Sir Harvey Upton unhappy. We have just learned that far higher views are open to you, – that no less a person than Mr. Cashel – ”

“Impossible, mamma! he never notices me in the least. Our acquaintance is scarcely more than a cold act of recognition when we meet.”

“Though love is hot sometimes, soon it grows cold,” muttered Aunt Fanny, who believed she was quoting to the letter.

“There never was love in the case at all, aunt,” said Olivia.

“Attend to me, Livy,” said her sister, who seemed impatient at this digression. “It is sufficient – it ought, at least, to be sufficient – for you, that we know Mr. Roland Cashel’s intentions. It is for you to establish a coolness with Sir Harvey. There is no difficulty in the task. I could not presume to instruct you in any matter of this kind, nor will I.”

“Take a friend’s advice, Livy dear, and don’t throw out dirty water till you’re sure of clean.”

“What, aunt?” asked Olivia, who really was puzzled by the figurative eloquence of her relative.

“Pshaw!” said Miss Kennyfeck, equally angry at the counsel and the vulgarity of the expression it was couched in. “Livy, attend to me,” said she again. “Mr. Cashel has sent for papa this morning to make a formal – Hush! here is pa himself.” And Mr. Kennyfeck’s heavy tread was heard approaching the door.

Mr. Kennyfeck’s sudden entrance not only closed the discussion, but left the debaters in the difficulty of having no concerted line of conduct respecting the new arrival; and although Mrs. Kennyfeck’s eyebrows were worked with a telegraphic activity, and Miss Kennyfeck’s pantomimic replies as promptly returned, it was clear that neither comprehended the other. Kaunitz lays it down as an axiom that “when two wings of an army are in presence of an enemy, and without means of rapid and certain communication, it is always better to act on the defensive than to attack, without some evident weak point of the adversary encourages a forward movement.” It is more than probable that neither Mrs. Kennyfeck nor her fair daughter had studied the authority in question, yet, with a tact quite instinctive, they proceeded to act upon it.

“You are back early, Mr. Kennyfeck,” said his wife, with a tone of half indifference.

Mr. Kennyfeck looked at his watch, and said it wanted twenty minutes to twelve.

“Has Mr. Linton returned, pa?” asked Miss Kennyfeck.

“I believe not. I have not heard that he has.”

“It would be little loss if he never did!” said Aunt Fanny, as she bit the end of an obstinate thread that would not enter the eye of her needle.

“Oh, Aunt Fanny!” exclaimed Olivia, in a deprecating tone.

“‘Pon my word, my dear, them ‘s my sentiments – whatever yours is.”

“Mr. Cashel certainly thinks differently,” said Mrs. Kennyfeck, glad to introduce the name uppermost in all their thoughts.

“I think of late there has been something like a coldness between them – You see them very rarely together. Did Mr. Cashel mention his name to you this morning, Mr. Kennyfeck?” said his wife; and by this sudden question revealing that they knew, at least, where he had been.

“Mere passingly, incidentally,” said Mr. Kennyfeck, evidently amazed that his small mystery had been penetrated; then, after a slight pause, he added, very probably with a sly malice to pique curiosity, “Mr. Cashel is desirous of Mr. Linton’s counsel on a step he meditates taking.”

“Indeed, sir; and has he much confidence in Mr. Linton’s judgment?”

“In this instance, it is likely he will follow the dictates of his own, Mrs. Kennyfeck,” said the attorney, solemnly.

This fencing was too much for Mrs. Kennyfeck, in whom the Job-like element was always at zero. It was an insult, too, to her understanding, that Mr. Kennyfeck should skirmish in this fashion with her; and so, drawing herself proudly up, she said, —

“Mr. Kennyfeck, I would wish to ask you, if you have, even upon one single occasion, discovered that my knowledge of the world, my tact, or my intelligence, were inferior to your own?”

“Never, madam; I’m sure I never disputed the – ”

“No, sir, you never dared to contest the fact, though you may have endeavored to escape from its application. I believe, sir, the only instance of deficient judgment I can be accused of, you, at least, ought not to reproach me with. ‘My family’” – this was a word Mrs. Kennyfeck used to enunciate with an emphasis that always impressed her husband very little provocation might possibly have made her say, “our house” – “my family, indeed, may refuse to forgive me” – she stopped, wiped her eyes, and then, with what seemed an heroic victory over her feelings, went on – “but the welfare of my children, sir, may well be conceived dear to one, who would not league to them the unhappy descent she has herself suffered.”

Mrs. Kennyfeck paused again. It appeared as though, do what she would, there was no escaping from the theme of her mésalliance when once she had touched it. It was very birdlime in its adhesiveness.

“When, therefore, Mr. Kennyfeck, the occasion presents itself of resuming, through my children – for alas! it is lost to me in my own person – the station I have forfeited, I do think that I should at least be consulted, that my advice should be asked, and my guidance required. Don’t you think so too, sir?”

Now, of all men living, never was there one more inept to read riddles than poor Mr. Kennyfeck, and while he averred that he perfectly concurred in his wife’s opinion, he had not the faintest glimmering of a notion what that opinion implied.

“Don’t you think, sir, also it would be better to use a little candor with your family?”

“Yes, pa, we know all about it,” said Miss Kennyfeck, nodding significantly.

“Ay, indeed, we had it in black and white – that is, if we can call a bit of burnt – ”

“Aunt Fanny, what are you about?” cried Miss Kennyfeck, in a voice of real terror, for she was shocked at the meanness she did not scruple to stoop to.

“Yes, Mr. Kennyfeck,” reiterated his wife, “we know all! If, however, you still persist in maintaining that mysterious aspect you have assumed with your family, I must say, sir, it is perfectly absurd.”

“It is unnecessary, too, papa,” cried Miss Kennyfeck.

“And it’s unfair to that young creature,” chimed in Aunt Fanny, with a gesture towards Olivia, who sat, en tableau for injured innocence, next a window.

Possibly, if any could have read Mr. Kennyfeck’s sentiments at that instant, they would have recognized the sufferings of a true martyr. To his own heart he muttered, —

“This is very hard; it is being called upon to reply to a case without a copy of the affidavits.”

At length, with a courage that he did not believe he was capable of, he said, —

“I am confused, Mrs. Kennyfeck; I am overwhelmed; I may submit a plea of surprise – that is, I would move the court, I mean – in fact, I must beg you will permit me to adjourn this case.”

And with these words, and in an agitation very unusual with him, he hastened from the room. Scarcely had the door closed after him, than he reopened it, and putting in his head, said, —

“I should have told you, Mrs. Kennyfeck, that Mr. Cashel intends to pay a visit here to-day.”

And so saying, he shut the door and departed.

“At last, sir!” exclaimed Mrs. Kennyfeck, in a voice of exultation, “you have been obliged to confess so much at least; but, rely on it, girls, your father is acting under Cashel’s dictation, or he never would dare to tamper in this manner with me.”