A Dark Night's Work (6 page)

"Yes! God bless you both! I will give her to you, some day—only it
must be a long time first. And now go away—go back to her—for I can't
stand this much longer."

Mr. Corbet returned to Ellinor. Mr. Wilkins sat down and buried his head
in his hands, then went to his stable, and had Wildfire saddled for a
good gallop over the country. Mr. Dunster waited for him in vain at the
office, where an obstinate old country gentleman from a distant part of
the shire would ignore Dunster's existence as a partner, and
pertinaciously demanded to see Mr. Wilkins on important business.

A few days afterwards, Ellinor's father bethought himself that same
further communication ought to take place between him and his daughter's
lover regarding the approval of the family of the latter to the young
man's engagement, and he accordingly wrote a very gentlemanly letter,
saying that of course he trusted that Ralph had informed his father of
his engagement; that Mr. Corbet was well known to Mr. Wilkins by
reputation, holding the position which he did in Shropshire, but that as
Mr. Wilkins did not pretend to be in the same station of life, Mr. Corbet
might possibly never even have heard of his name, although in his own
county it was well known as having been for generations that of the
principal conveyancer and land-agent of —shire; that his wife had been
a member of the old knightly family of Holsters, and that he himself was
descended from a younger branch of the South Wales De Wintons, or
Wilkins; that Ellinor, as his only child, would naturally inherit all his
property, but that in the meantime, of course, some settlement upon her
would he made, the nature of which might be decided nearer the time of
the marriage.

It was a very good straightforward letter and well fitted for the purpose
to which Mr. Wilkins knew it would be applied—of being forwarded to the
young man's father. One would have thought that it was not an engagement
so disproportionate in point of station as to cause any great opposition
on that score; but, unluckily, Captain Corbet, the heir and eldest son,
had just formed a similar engagement with Lady Maria Brabant, the
daughter of one of the proudest earls in —shire, who had always
resented Mr. Wilkins's appearance on the field as an insult to the
county, and ignored his presence at every dinner-table where they met.
Lady Maria was visiting the Corbets at the very time when Ralph's letter,
enclosing Mr. Wilkins's, reached the paternal halls, and she merely
repeated her father's opinions when Mrs. Corbet and her daughters
naturally questioned her as to who these Wilkinses were; they remembered
the name in Ralph's letters formerly; the father was some friend of Mr.
Ness's, the clergyman with whom Ralph had read; they believed Ralph used
to dine with these Wilkinses sometimes, along with Mr. Ness.

Lady Maria was a goodnatured girl, and meant no harm in repeating her
father's words; touched up, it is true, by some of the dislike she
herself felt to the intimate alliance proposed, which would make her
sister-in-law to the daughter of an "upstart attorney," "not received in
the county," "always trying to push his way into the set above him,"
"claiming connection with the De Wintons of — Castle, who, as she well
knew, only laughed when he was spoken of, and said they were more rich in
relations than they were aware of"—"not people papa would ever like her
to know, whatever might be the family connection."

These little speeches told in a way which the girl who uttered them did
not intend they should. Mrs. Corbet and her daughters set themselves
violently against this foolish entanglement of Ralph's; they would not
call it an engagement. They argued, and they urged, and they pleaded,
till the squire, anxious for peace at any price, and always more under
the sway of the people who were with him, however unreasonable they might
be, than of the absent, even though these had the wisdom of Solomon or
the prudence and sagacity of his son Ralph, wrote an angry letter, saying
that, as Ralph was of age, of course he had a right to please himself,
therefore all his father could say was, that the engagement was not at
all what either he or Ralph's mother had expected or hoped; that it was a
degradation to the family just going to ally themselves with a peer of
James the First's creation; that of course Ralph must do what he liked,
but that if he married this girl he must never expect to have her
received by the Corbets of Corbet Hall as a daughter. The squire was
rather satisfied with his production, and took it to show it to his wife;
but she did not think it was strong enough, and added a little postscript

"DEAR RALPH,

"Though, as second son, you are entitled to Bromley at my death, yet I
can do much to make the estate worthless. Hitherto, regard for you
has prevented my taking steps as to sale of timber, &c., which would
materially increase your sisters' portions; this just measure I shall
infallibly take if I find you persevere in keeping to this silly
engagement. Your father's disapproval is always a sufficient reason
to allege."

Ralph was annoyed at the receipt of these letters, though he only smiled
as he locked them up in his desk.

"Dear old father! how he blusters! As to my mother, she is reasonable
when I talk to her. Once give her a definite idea of what Ellinor's
fortune will be, and let her, if she chooses, cut down her timber—a
threat she has held over me ever since I knew what a rocking-horse was,
and which I have known to be illegal these ten years past—and she'll
come round. I know better than they do how Reginald has run up
post-obits, and as for that vulgar high-born Lady Maria they are all so
full of, why, she is a Flanders mare to my Ellinor, and has not a silver
penny to cross herself with, besides! I bide my time, you dear good
people!"

He did not think it necessary to reply to these letters immediately, nor
did he even allude to their contents in his to Ellinor. Mr. Wilkins, who
had been very well satisfied with his own letter to the young man, and
had thought that it must be equally agreeable to every one, was not at
all suspicious of any disapproval, because the fact of a distinct
sanction on the part of Mr. Ralph Corbet's friends to his engagement was
not communicated to him.

As for Ellinor, she trembled all over with happiness. Such a summer for
the blossoming of flowers and ripening of fruit had not been known for
years; it seemed to her as if bountiful loving Nature wanted to fill the
cup of Ellinor's joy to overflowing, and as if everything, animate and
inanimate, sympathised with her happiness. Her father was well, and
apparently content. Miss Monro was very kind. Dixon's lameness was
quite gone off. Only Mr. Dunster came creeping about the house, on
pretence of business, seeking out her father, and disturbing all his
leisure with his dust-coloured parchment-skinned careworn face, and
seeming to disturb the smooth current of her daily life whenever she saw
him.

Ellinor made her appearance at the Hamley assemblies, but with less
eclat
than either her father or her lover expected. Her beauty and
natural grace were admired by those who could discriminate; but to the
greater number there was (what they called) "a want of style"—want of
elegance there certainly was not, for her figure was perfect, and though
she moved shyly, she moved well. Perhaps it was not a good place for a
correct appreciation of Miss Wilkins; some of the old dowagers thought it
a piece of presumption in her to be there at all—but the Lady Holster of
the day (who remembered her husband's quarrel with Mr. Wilkins, and
looked away whenever Ellinor came near) resented this opinion. "Miss
Wilkins is descended from Sir Frank's family, one of the oldest in the
county; the objection might have been made years ago to the father, but
as he had been received, she did not know why Miss Wilkins was to be
alluded to as out of her place." Ellinor's greatest enjoyment in the
evening was to hear her father say, after all was over, and they were
driving home—

"Well, I thought my Nelly the prettiest girl there, and I think I know
some other people who would have said the same if they could have spoken
out."

"Thank you, papa," said Ellinor, squeezing his hand, which she held. She
thought he alluded to the absent Ralph as the person who would have
agreed with him, had he had the opportunity of seeing her; but no, he
seldom thought much of the absent; but had been rather flattered by
seeing Lord Hildebrand take up his glass for the apparent purpose of
watching Ellinor.

"Your pearls, too, were as handsome as any in the room, child—but we
must have them re-set; the sprays are old-fashioned now. Let me have
them to-morrow to send up to Hancock."

"Papa, please, I had rather keep them as they are—as mamma wore them."

He was touched in a minute.

"Very well, darling. God bless you for thinking of it!"

But he ordered her a set of sapphires instead, for the next assembly.

These balls were not such as to intoxicate Ellinor with success, and make
her in love with gaiety. Large parties came from the different country-
houses in the neighbourhood, and danced with each other. When they had
exhausted the resources they brought with them, they had generally a few
dances to spare for friends of the same standing with whom they were most
intimate. Ellinor came with her father, and joined an old card-playing
dowager, by way of a chaperone—the said dowager being under old business
obligations to the firm of Wilkins and Son, and apologizing to all her
acquaintances for her own weak condescension to Mr. Wilkins's foible in
wishing to introduce his daughter into society above her natural sphere.
It was upon this lady, after she had uttered some such speech as the one
I have just mentioned, that Lady Holster had come down with the pedigree
of Ellinor's mother. But though the old dowager had drawn back a little
discomfited at my lady's reply, she was not more attentive to Ellinor in
consequence. She allowed Mr. Wilkins to bring in his daughter and place
her on the crimson sofa beside her; spoke to her occasionally in the
interval that elapsed before the rubbers could be properly arranged in
the card-room; invited the girl to accompany her to that sober amusement,
and on Ellinor's declining, and preferring to remain with her father, the
dowager left her with a sweet smile on her plump countenance, and an
approving conscience somewhere within her portly frame, assuring her that
she had done all that could possibly have been expected from her towards
"that good Wilkins's daughter." Ellinor stood by her father watching the
dances, and thankful for the occasional chance of a dance. While she had
been sitting by her chaperone, Mr. Wilkins had made the tour of the room,
dropping out the little fact of his daughter's being present wherever he
thought the seed likely to bring forth the fruit of partners. And some
came because they liked Mr. Wilkins, and some asked Ellinor because they
had done their duty dances to their own party, and might please
themselves. So that she usually had an average of one invitation to
every three dances; and this principally towards the end of the evening.

But considering her real beauty, and the care which her father always
took about her appearance, she met with far less than her due of
admiration. Admiration she did not care for; partners she did; and
sometimes felt mortified when she had to sit or stand quiet during all
the first part of the evening. If it had not been for her father's
wishes she would much rather have stayed at home; but, nevertheless, she
talked even to the irresponsive old dowager, and fairly chatted to her
father when she got beside him, because she did not like him to fancy
that she was not enjoying herself.

And, indeed, she had so much happiness in the daily course of this part
of her life, that, on looking back upon it afterwards, she could not
imagine anything brighter than it had been. The delight of receiving her
lover's letters—the anxious happiness of replying to them (always a
little bit fearful lest she should not express herself and her love in
the precisely happy medium becoming a maiden)—the father's love and
satisfaction in her—the calm prosperity of the whole household—was
delightful at the time, and, looking back upon it, it was dreamlike.

Occasionally Mr. Corbet came down to see her. He always slept on these
occasions at Mr. Ness's; but he was at Ford Bank the greater part of the
one day between two nights that he allowed himself for the length of his
visits. And even these short peeps were not frequently taken. He was
working hard at law: fagging at it tooth and nail; arranging his whole
life so as best to promote the ends of his ambition; feeling a delight in
surpassing and mastering his fellows—those who started in the race at
the same time. He read Ellinor's letters over and over again; nothing
else beside law-books. He perceived the repressed love hidden away in
subdued expressions in her communications, with an amused pleasure at the
attempt at concealment. He was glad that her gaieties were not more gay;
he was glad that she was not too much admired, although a little
indignant at the want of taste on the part of the —shire gentlemen. But
if other admirers had come prominently forward, he would have had to take
some more decided steps to assert his rights than he had hitherto done;
for he had caused Ellinor to express a wish to her father that her
engagement should not be too much talked about until nearer the time when
it would be prudent for him to marry her. He thought that the knowledge
of this, the only imprudently hasty step he ever meant to take in his
life, might go against his character for wisdom, if the fact became known
while he was as yet only a student. Mr. Wilkins wondered a little; but
acceded, as he always did, to any of Ellinor's requests. Mr. Ness was a
confidant, of course, and some of Lady Maria's connections heard of it,
and forgot it again very soon; and, as it happened, no one else was
sufficiently interested in Ellinor to care to ascertain the fact.