Roland Cashel, Volume I (of II)

CHAPTER XI. A DRIVE WITH THE LADIES

Geld kann vieles in der Welt.

(Money can do much in this world.)

When Cashel descended the stairs to breakfast, he took a peep into the drawing-room as he went, some slight hope of seeing Olivia, perhaps, suggesting the step. He was disappointed, however; except a servant arranging candies in the lustres, the room was empty. The same fate awaited him in the breakfast-room, where a small table, most significantly laid for two, showed that a tête-à-tête with his host was in store for him. No wonder, then, if Mr. Kennyfeck saw something of impatience in the air of his young guest, whose eyes turned to the door each time it opened, or were as hastily directed to the garden at each stir without, – evident signs of thoughts directed in channels different from the worthy solicitor’s.

Confess, my dear reader, – if you be of the sex to judge of these matters, – confess it is excessively provoking when you have prepared your mind, sharpened your wit – perhaps, too, curled your whiskers – with a latent hope that you are to meet and converse with two very handsome and sprightly girls, that the interview is converted into a scene with “Papa.” For ourselves, who acknowledge to have a kind of Catholicism in these affairs, who like the dear creatures in all the flaunting dash of a riding-hat and habit, cantering away of a breezy day, with laughing voice and half-uncurled hair; who delight to see them lounging in a britzska or lolling in a phaeton; who gaze with rapture on charms heightened by the blaze of full-dress, and splendid in all the brilliancy of jewels and flowers, – we own that we have a kind of fondness, almost amounting to a preference, for the prim coquettishness of a morning-dress – some light muslin thing, floating and gauzy – showing the figure to perfection, and in its simplicity suiting well the two braids of hair so innocently banded on the cheeks. There is something of conscious power in the quiet garb, a sense of trustfulness; it is like the warrior advancing without his weapons to a conference that is exceedingly pleasing, seeming to say, You see that I am not a being of tulle, and gauze, and point de Bruxelles, of white satin, and turquoise, and pink camellias, but a creature whose duties may be in the daily round of life, meant to sit beside on a grassy slope as much as on a velvet ottoman, to talk with as well as flirt with.

We have no means of knowing if Cashel was of our mind, and whether these demi-toilette visions were as suggestive to his as they are to our imagination, but that he bore his disappointment with a very bad grace we can perfectly answer for, and showed, by his distracted manner and inattentive air, that the papa’s companionship was a very poor substitute for the daughters’.

It must be owned, too, that Mr. Kennyfeck was scarcely a brilliant converser, nor, had he been so, was the matter under consideration of a kind to develop and display his abilities. The worthy solicitor had often promised himself the pleasure he now enjoyed of recounting the whole story of the law proceedings. It was the great event of his own life, “his Waterloo,” and he dwelt on every detail with a prosy dalliance that was death to the listener. Legal subtleties, shrewd and cunning devices of crafty counsellors, all the artful dodges of the profession, Cashel heard with a scornful indifference or a downright apathy, and it demanded all Mr. Kennyfeck’s own enthusiasm in the case to make him persist in a narrative so uninteresting to its only auditor.

“I fear I weary you, Mr. Cashel,” said the solicitor, “with these details, but I really supposed that you must feel desirous of knowing not only the exact circumstances of your estate, but of learning the very singular history by which your claim was substantiated.”

“If I am to be frank,” said Cashel, boldly, “I must tell you that these things possess not the slightest interest for me. When I was a gambler – which, unfortunately, I was at one time – whether I won or lost, I never could endure to discuss the game after it was over. So long as there was a goal to reach, few men could feel more ardor in the pursuit. I believe I have the passion for success as strong as my neighbors, but the struggle over, the prize won, whether by myself or another it mattered not, it ceased to have any hold upon me. I could address myself to a new contest, but never look back on the old one.”

“So that,” said Kennyfeck, drawing a long breath to conceal a sigh, “I am to conclude that this is a topic you would not desire to renew. Well, I yield of course; only pray how am I to obtain your opinion on questions concerning your property?”

“My opinions,” said Cashel, “must be mere arbitrary decisions, come to without any knowledge; that you are well aware of. I know nothing of this country, – neither its interests, its feelings, nor its tastes. I know just as little of what wealth will do, and what it will not do. Tell me, therefore, in a few words, what other men, situated as I am, would pursue, – what habits they would adopt, how live, and with whom. If I can conform, without any great sacrifice of personal freedom, I ‘ll do so, because I know of no slavery so bad as notoriety. Just then give me your counsel, and I ask, intending to follow it.”

Few men were less able than Mr. Kennyfeck to offer a valuable opinion on these difficult subjects, but the daily routine of his professional life had made him acquainted with a certain detail that seemed, to himself at least, an undeviating rule of procedure. He knew that, to the heir of a large estate coming of age, a wife and a seat in Parliament were the two first objects. He had so often been engaged in drawing up settlements for the one, and raising money for the other contingency, that they became as associated in his mind with one-and-twenty years of age as though intended by Nature to denote it.

With some reserve, which we must not scrutinize, he began with the political object.

“I suppose, sir,” said he, “you will desire to enter Parliament?”

“I should like it,” said Cashel, earnestly, “if a sense of inferiority would not weigh too heavily on me to compensate for the pleasure. With an education so neglected as mine, I should run the hazard of either unjustly depreciating my own judgment, or what is worse, esteeming it at more than its worth. Now, though I suspect that the interest of politics would have a great attraction for me, I should always occupy too humble a station regarding them, to make that interest a high one. Omit Parliament, then, and what next?”

“The duties of a country gentleman are various and important – the management of your estates – ”

“This I must leave in your hands,” said Cashel, abruptly. “Suggest something else.”

“Well, of course, these come in a far less important category; but the style of your living, the maintenance of a house befitting your rank and property, the reception of your country neighbors, – all these are duties.”

“I am very ignorant of forms,” said Cashel, haughtily; “but I opine that if a man spare no money, with a good cook, a good cellar, a good stable, and carte blanche from the owner to make free with everything, these duties are not very difficult to perform.”

Had Mr. Kennyfeck known more of such matters, he might have told him that something was still wanting, – that something which can throw its perfume of good-breeding and elegance over the humble dinner-party in a cottage, and yet be absent from the gorgeous splendor of a banquet in a palace. Mr. Kennyfeck did not know this, so he accorded his fullest assent to Cashel’s opinion.

“What comes next?” said Roland, impatiently, “for as I am neither politician nor country gentleman, nor can I make a pursuit of mere hospitality, I really do not see what career is open to me.”

Mr. Kennyfeck had been on the eve of introducing the topic of marriage, when this sally suddenly routed the attempt. The man who saw nothing to occupy him in politics, property, or social intercourse would scarcely deem a wife an all-sufficient ambition. Mr. Kennyfeck was posed.

“I see, sir, your task is a hard one; it is no less than to try and conform my savage tastes and habits to civilized usages, – a difficult thing, I am certain; however, I promise compliance with any ritual for a while. I have often been told that the possession of fortune in these countries imposes more restraints in the shape of duties than does poverty elsewhere. Let me try the problem for myself. Now, dictate, and I obey.”

“After all,” said Mr. Kennyfeck, taking courage, “few men would deem it a hard condition in which to find themselves master of above £16,000 a year, to enter Parliament, to keep a good house, and marry – as every man in your circumstances may – the person of his choice.”

“Oh! Is matrimony another article of the code?” said Cashel, smiling. “Well, that is the greatest feature, because the others are things to abandon, if not found to suit your temper or inclination – but a wife – that does look somewhat more permanent. No matter, I’ll adventure all and everything – of course depending on your guidance for the path.”

Mr. Kennyfeck was too happy at these signs of confidence to neglect an opportunity for strengthening the ties, and commenced a very prudent harangue upon the necessity of Cashel’s using great caution in his first steps, and not committing himself by anything like political pledges, till he had firmly decided which side to adopt. “As to society,” said he, “of course you will select those who please you most for your intimates; but in politics there are many considerations very different from mere liking. Be only guarded, however, in the beginning, and you risk nothing by waiting.”

“And as to the other count in the indictment,” said Cashel, interrupting a rather prosy dissertation about political parties, – “as to the other count – matrimony I mean. I conclude, as the world is so exceedingly kind as to take a profound interest in all the sayings and doings of a man with money, that perhaps it is not indifferent regarding so eventful a step as his marriage. Now, pray, Mr. Kennyfeck, having entered Parliament, kept open house, hunted, shot, raced, dined, gambled, duelled, and the rest, to please society, how must I satisfy its exigencies in this last particular? I mean, is there any particular style of lady, – tall, short, brunette or fair, dark-eyed or blue-eyed, – or what, in short, is the person I must marry if I would avoid transgressing any of those formidable rules which seem to regulate every action of your lives, and, if I may believe Mr. Phillis, superintend the very color of your cravat and the shape of your hat?”

“Oh, believe me,” replied Mr. Kennyfeck with a bland persuasiveness, “fashion is only exigeant in small matters; the really momentous affairs of life are always at a man’s own disposal. Whoever is fortunate enough to be Mr. Cashel’s choice, becomes, by the fact, as elevated above envious criticisms as she will be above the sphere where they alone prevail.”

“So far that is very flattering. Now for another point. There is an old shipmate of mine – a young Spanish officer – who has lived rather a rakish kind of life. I ‘m not quite sure if he has not had a brush or two with our flag, for he dealt a little in ebony – you understand – the slave-trade, I mean. How would these fine gentlemen, I should like to know, receive him? Would they look coldly and distantly at him? I should naturally wish to see him at my house, but not that he might be offered anything like slight or insult.”

“I should defer it, certainly. I would recommend you not pressing this visit, till you have surrounded yourself with a certain set, a party by whom you will be known and upheld.”

“So then, if I understand you aright, I must obtain a kind of security for my social good conduct before the world will trust me? Now, this does seem rather hard, particularly as no man is guilty till he has been convicted.”

“The bail-bond is little else than a matter of form,” said Mr. Kennyfeck, smiling, and glad to cap an allusion which his professional pursuits made easy of comprehension.

“Well,” sighed Cashel, “I’m not quite certain that this same world of yours and I shall be long friends, if even we begin as such. I have all my life been somewhat of a rebel, except where authority was lax enough to make resistance unnecessary. How am I to get on here, hemmed in and fenced by a hundred restrictions?”

Mr. Kennyfeck could not explain to him that these barriers were less restrictions against personal liberty than defences against aggression; so he only murmured some commonplaces about “getting habituated,” and “time,” and so on, and apologized for what he, in reality, might have expatiated on as privileges.

“My mistress wishes to know, sir,” said a footman, at this juncture, “if Mr. Cashel will drive out with her? the carriage is at the door.”

“Delighted!” cried Cashel, looking at the same time most uncourteously pleased to get away from his tiresome companion.

Cashel found Mrs. Kennyfeck and her daughters seated in a handsome barouche, whose appointments, bating, perhaps, some little exuberance in display, were all perfect. The ladies, too, were most becomingly attired, and the transition from the tittle cobwebbed den of the solicitor to the free air and pleasant companionship, excited his spirits to the utmost.

“How bored you must have been by that interview!” said Mrs. Kennyfeck, as they drove away.

“Why do you say so?” said Cashel, smiling.

“You looked so weary, so thoroughly tired out, when you joined us. I’m certain Mr. Kennyfeck has been reading aloud all the deeds and documents of the trial, and reciting the hundred-and-one difficulties which his surpassing acuteness, poor dear man! could alone overcome.”

“No, indeed you wrong him,” said Roland, with a laugh; “he scarcely alluded to what he might have reasonably dwelt upon with pride, and what demands all my gratitude. He was rather giving me, what I so much stand in need of, a little lecture on my duties and devoirs as a possessor of fortune; a code, I shame to confess, perfectly strange to me.”

A very significant glance from Mrs. Kennyfeck towards the girls revealed the full measure of her contempt for the hardihood of poor Mr. Kennyfeck’s daring; but quickly assuming a smile, she said, “And are we to be permitted to hear what these excellent counsels were, or are these what the Admiralty calls ‘secret instructions’?”

“Not in the least. Mr. Kennyfeck sees plainly enough – it is but too palpable – that I am as ignorant of this new world as he himself would be, if dropped down suddenly in an Indian encampment, and that as the thing I detest most in this life is any unnecessary notoriety, I want to do as far as in me lies, like my neighbors. I own to you that the little sketch with which he favored me is not too fascinating, but he assures me that with time and patience and zeal I’ll get over my difficulties, and make a very tolerable country gentleman.”

“But, my dear Mr. Cashel,” said Mrs. Kennyfeck, with a great emphasis on the epithet, “why do you think of listening to Mr. Kennyfeck on such a subject? Poor man, he takes all his notions of men and manners from the Exchequer and Common Pleas.”

“Papa’s models are all in horse-hair wigs, – fat mummies in ermine!” said Miss Kennyfeck.

“When Mr. Cashel knows Lord Charles,” said Olivia.

“Or Mr. Linton – ”

“Or the Dean,” broke in Mrs. Kennyfeck; “for although a Churchman, his information on every subject is boundless.”

Miss Kennyfeck gave a sly look towards Cashel, which very probably entered a dissent to her mamma’s opinion.

“If I were you,” resumed she, tenderly, “I know what I should do; coolly rejecting all their counsels, I should fashion my life as it pleased myself to live, well assured that in following my bent I should find plenty of people only too happy to lend me their companionship. Just reflect, for a moment, how very agreeable you can make your house, without in the least compromising any taste or inclination of your own; without, in fact, occupying your mind on the subject.”

“But the world,” remarked Mrs. Kennyfeck, “must be cared for! It would not do for one in Mr. Cashel’s station to form his associates only among those whose agreeability is their recommendation.”

“Then let him know the Dean, mamma,” said Miss Kennyfeck, slyly.

“Yes, my dear,” rejoined Mrs. Kennyfeck, not detecting the sarcasm, “I cannot fancy one more capable of affording judicious counsel. You spoke about ordering plate, Mr. Cashel; but of course you will apply to Storr and Mortimer. Everything is so much better in London; otherwise, here we are at Leonard’s.”

The carriage drove up, as she spoke, to the door of a very splendid-looking shop, where in all the attractive display modern taste has invented, plate and jewellery glittered and dazzled.

“It was part of Mr. Kennyfeck’s counsel this morning,” said Cashel, “that I should purchase anything I want in Ireland, so far, at least, as practicable; so, if you will aid me in choosing, we ‘ll take the present opportunity.”

Mrs. Kennyfeck was overjoyed at the bare mention of such an occasion of display, and sailed into the shop with an air that spoke plain as words themselves, “I’m come to make your fortune.” So palpable, indeed, was the manner of her approach, that the shopman hastily retired to seek the proprietor of the establishment, – a little pompous man, with a bald head, – who, having a great number of “bad debts” among his high clients, had taken to treating great folk with a very cool assumption of equality.

“Mr. Cashel is come to look about some plate, Mr. Leonard. Let us see your book of drawings; and have you those models you made for Lord Kellorane?”

“We have better, ma’am,” said Leonard. “We have the plate itself. If you will step upstairs. It is all laid out on the tables. The fact is” – here he dropped his voice – “his lordship’s marriage with Miss Fenchurch is broken off, and he will not want the plate, and we have his orders to sell it at once.”

“And is that beautiful pony-phaeton, with the two black Arabians, to be sold?” asked Miss Kennyfeck, eagerly. “He only drove them once, I think.”

“Yes, madam, everything: they are all to be auctioned at Dycer’s to-day.”

“At what hour?” inquired Cashel.

“At three, precisely, sir.”

“Then it wants but five minutes of the time,” said Cashel, looking at his watch.

“But the plate, sir? Such an opportunity may never occur again,” broke in Leonard, fearful of seeing his customer depart unprofitably.

“Oh, to be sure. Let us see it,” said Cashel, as he handed Mrs. Kennyfeck upstairs.

An exclamation of surprise and delight burst from the party at the magnificent display which greeted them on entering the room. How splendid – what taste – how very beautiful – so elegant – so massive – so chaste! and fifty other encomiastic phrases.

“Very fine, indeed, ma’am,” chimed in Leonard; “cost fifteen and seven-pence the ounce throughout, and now to be sold for thirteen shillings.”

“What is the price?” said Cashel, in a low whisper.

“There are, if I remember right, sir, but I ‘ll ascertain in a moment, eight thousand ounces.”

“I want to know the sum in one word,” rejoined Cashel, hastily.

“It will be something like three thousand seven hundred and – ”

“Well, say three thousand seven hundred, it is mine.”

“These ice-pails are not included, sir.”

“Well, send them also, and let me know the price. How handsome that brooch is! Let me see it on your velvet dress, Mrs. Kennyfeck. Yes, that really looks well. Pray let it remain there.”

“Oh, I could not think of such a thing! It is far too costly. It is the most splendid – ”

“You ‘ll not refuse me, I hope, a first request, madam,” said he, with a half-offended air.

Mrs. Kennyfeck, really overwhelmed by the splendor of the gift, complied with a reluctant shame.

“These are the diamonds that were ordered for the bride,” said Leonard, opening a jewel-casket, and exhibiting a most magnificent suite.

“Oh, how sorry she must be!” cried Miss Kennyfeck, as she surveyed the glittering mass.

“If she loved him,” murmured Olivia, in a low whisper, as if to herself, but overheard by Cashel, who kept his eyes towards her with an expression of deep interest.

“If the gentleman stood in need of such a set,” said Leonard, “I am empowered to dispose of them at the actual cost. It is old Mr. Fenchurch who suffers all the loss, and he can very well afford it. As a wedding present, sir – ”

“But I am not going to be married, that I know of,” said Cashel, smiling.

“Perhaps not this week, sir, or the next,” rejoined the self-sufficient jeweller; “but, of course, that time will come. Two thousand pounds for such a suite is positively getting them a present, to break them up and reset them.”

“How shocking!” cried Miss Kennyfeck.

“Yes, madam; but what is to be done? They only suit large fortunes in their present form; these, unfortunately, are very rare with us.”

“A quarter past three!” exclaimed Cashel; “we shall be too late.”

“And the diamonds, sir?” said Leonard, following him downstairs.

“Do you think them so handsome?” said Cashel to Olivia, as she walked at his side.

“Oh, they are most beautiful,” replied she, with a bashful falling of her eyelids.

“I ‘ll take them also,” whispered Cashel to Leonard, who, for perhaps the only time for years past, accompanied the party, bareheaded, to their carriage, and continued bowing till they drove away.

“Dycer’s,” said Mrs. Kennyfeck; “and as fast as you can.”

With all their speed they came too late. The beautiful equipage had been already disposed of, and was driving from the gate as they drew up.

“How provoking! – how terribly provoking!” exclaimed Mrs. Kennyfeck.

“I declare, I think them handsomer than ever,” said Miss Kennyfeck, as she surveyed the two well-matched and highly-bred ponies.

“Who bought them?” asked Mrs. Kennyfeck.

“I am the fortunate individual, or rather the unhappy one, who excites such warm regrets,” said Mr Linton, as he lounged on the door of the carriage. “I would I were Rothschild, or his son, or his godson, to beg your acceptance of them.”

“What did you give for them, Mr. Linton?” asked Mrs. Kennyfeck.

“How unfair to ask; and you, too, who understand these things so well.”

“I want to purchase them,” said she, laughing; “that was my reason.”

“To you, then, the price is what I have just paid, – a hundred and fifty.”

“How cheap!”

“Absolutely for nothing. I bought them on no other account. I really do not want such an equipage.”

“To be serious, then,” resumed Mrs. Kennyfeck, “we came here with Mr. Cashel to purchase them, and just arrived a few minutes too late.”

“Quite early enough to allow of my being able to render you a slight service; without, however, the satisfaction of its having demanded any effort from me. Will you present me to Mr. Cashel?” The gentlemen bowed and smiled, and Linton resumed: “If you care for the ponies, Mr. Cashel, I am delighted to say they are at your service. I really bought them, as I say, because they were going for nothing.” Cashel did not know how to return the generosity, but accepted the offer, trusting that time would open an occasion to repay the favor.

“Shall I send them home to you, or will you drive them?”

“Will you venture to accompany me?” said Cashel, turning to Olivia Kennyfeck; who, seeing at once the impropriety of a proposal which Roland’s ignorance of the world alone could have committed, was silent and confused.

“Are you afraid, my dear?” inquired Mrs. Kennyfeck, to show that all other objections might be waived.

“Oh no, mamma, if you are not.”

“The ponies are perfectly quiet,” said Linton.

“I ‘m certain nothing will happen,” said Miss Kennyfeck, with a most significant glance at her sister.