Chapter 8

He took a good long time before he answered, and I was feared of my life he would refuse to have any hand in the affair. He cast his eyes over me that searching that I felt I might have gone too far; but then he grinned, which was an expression of pleasure very rare indeed with Arthur, and his brow lifted, and he went so far as to wink one of his pale grey eyes, the one with a drooping lid.

"For John's sake," I said.

"As to John," he answered, "I never heard him say he was particular anxious for you to take another, and many husbands feel rather strong on that subject, as you can see when you hear their wills after they be gone; but as poor John hadn't nothing to leave, he couldn't make no conditions to hamper your freedom of action, and for my part I see no reason why you shouldn't marry Gregory Sweet if you want to."

"I do," I said. "He's a man you could trust, and you put safety first at my time of life."

Well, Arthur dallied a bit and didn't throw himself into it exactly; but none the less, before I left him he promised to do his part and make Mr. Sweet jealous if he could without casting any reflections upon himself.

For I found that Arthur had his share of caution also, and before we parted he made me sign a paper acknowledging the cabal in secret against Greg.

"You shall have it back the day he offers for you," promised Arthur Parable, "and I only require it so that if any hard things was said of me, or I was accused of toying with your finer feelings, or anything like that, I can show by chapter and verse under your signature that the man's a liar. And meantime I'll sound your praises if I see Sweet and say you'd teach him the meaning of true happiness, and so on. And I'll come to tea Sunday."

Well, I thanked the man from my heart and since one good turn called for another I asked after him and his girl and hoped Minnie was being a kindly daughter to him and so on. But he didn't speak very fatherly of her.

"She's a melancholy cat in a house," he said, "and women will be melancholy in her stage of life. She's terrible wishful to leave me and find a husband--so set on it as yourself--but of course with no chance whatsoever; for no self-respecting man would ever look at a creature like her. As a rule, with her pattern, they have got sense enough to give up hope and take what Nature sends 'em in a patient spirit. But not Minnie. Hope won't die and, in a word, she's a plaguey piece and she's got a sharp tongue too, and when I'm too old to hold my own she'll give me hell."

"Why don't she go into one of them institutions?" I asked, "There's plenty of places where good work is being done by ugly, large-hearted women, looking after natural childer, or nursing rich folk, and so on. Then she'd be helping the world along and forget herself and lay up treasure where moth and rust don't corrupt."

"You ax her," answered Arthur. "You give her a hint. I'd pay good money to man or woman who could tempt her away from looking after me. And if she thought I was minded to take another wife, I'd get the ugly edge of her tongue up home to my vitals, so us must watch out."

"Don't you let her in the secret, however," I prayed the man, "because if she knew she'd spoil all."

"Fear nothing," he answered; "I can take her measure."

But unfortunately for all concerned, Arthur over-praised himself in that matter, and before a fortnight was told, while we developed our little affair very clever, and I smiled on Arthur in the street afore neighbours, and now and again he invited himself to tea--if Minnie didn't dash in and put the lid on! What I felt I can't write down in any case now, things happening as they did after; but at the time, I'd have wrung the woman's neck for a ha'porth of peas. But she thought she knew the circumstances, and being filled with hateful rage that her father was thinking on another, she struck in the only quarter that mattered and, before I knowed it, I was a lone woman and hope dead.

A good bit happened first, however, and Arthur played up very clever indeed. He'd come along and pass the time of day and I'd look in his cottage to give an opinion on some trifle; and when he came to a tea on which I'd spent a tidy lot of thought, he enjoyed it so much and welcomed the strength of it and the quality of the cake so hearty that once or twice us caught ourselves up.

"Dammy!" said Arthur, "we'm going it, Mary. Us had better draw in a thought, or our little games will end in earnest."

"Not on my side," I said, and that vexed him I believe, for a man's a man. However, I reminded him of his first, and that always daunted his spirit, so he soon went off with his tail between his legs.

But all the same, I couldn't help contrasting Arthur with Gregory, and though Greg might be called the more important and prosperous man, yet there was always a barrier he wouldn't pass, while Arthur, though brooding by nature, could get about himself now and again, and in them rare moments, you felt there was a nice, affectionate side to him that only wanted encouraging.

It was three days after that tea and his praises of my hand with a plum cake, that I found myself left.

It came like a bolt from the blue sky, as they say, and I was messing about in my little garden full of an offer I'd got to let my cottage, or sell it, and wondering if I should tell Gregory, when the man himself came in the gate and slammed it home after him. And I see when I looked in his determined eyes that the time had come. His jaws were working, too, under his beard, and I reckoned he'd got wind of Arthur and was there to say the word at last. And I was right enough about Arthur, but cruel wrong about the word.

"I'll ax you to step in the house," he said. "I've heard something."

"I hope it's interesting news," I answered. "Come in by all means, Gregory. Always welcome. Will you drink a glass of fresh milk?"

For milk was his favourite beverage.

"No," he answered. "I don't take no milk under this roof no more."

So then I began to see there was something biting the man, though for my life I couldn't guess what.

However, he soon told me.

He sat down, took off his hat, wiped his brow, blew his nose and then spoke.

"I've just been having a tell with Minnie Parable--old Parable's daughter," he said.

"Have you?" I said. "Would you call him old?"

"Be damned to his age," he answered. "That's neither here nor there. But this I'd wish you to understand. I've respected you for a good few years now."

"Why not?" I asked, rather short, for I didn't like his manner.

"No reason at all till half an hour agone," he replied. "But now I hear that, while you well knew my feelings and my hopes and might have trusted a man like me to speak when he saw his way, instead of following my lead and remembering yourself and calling to mind the sort of woman such as I had the right to expect, and waiting with patience and dignity for the accepted hour, you be throwing all thought of me to the winds and rolling your eyes on the men and axing them to tea, and conducting yourself in a manner very unbecoming indeed for the woman I'd long hoped to marry."

I felt myself go red to the bosom; but I done a very clever thing, for though a thousand words leapt to my tongue, I didn't speak one of 'em; but kept my mouth close shut and looked at him. Nought will vex an angry man more than to be faced with blank silence after he's let off steam and worked up to a fine pitch; and now Greg expected me to answer back; and it put him out of his stride a lot when I didn't.

I dare say we was both dumb for three minutes; then he got up off his chair and prepared to go.

"And--and," he began again "--and I want you to understand here and now--here and now--that it's off. You've played with my affections and made me a laughing stock--so Minnie Parable tells me--and I hope you'll live to repent it--yes, I do. And I'll say good evening."

"Good evening, Mr. Sweet," I said, "and may God forgive you, because I never won't. You've put the foul-mouthed lies of that forgotten creature before a faithful, wholesome woman and listened to libellious falsehoods spoke against me behind my back, and talked stuff I might have you up for. And 'tis you are disgraced, not me; and when you find a straighter, cleaner-minded and more honourable creature than what I am, and one as would make you a finer partner, or had more admiration and respect for your character and opinions than what I had until ten minutes ago, then I shall be pleased to wish her luck."

"It's all off, all the same," he said, and began to shamble down the path; but he'd lost his fire.

"Yes," I said, following him to the gate. "It's off all right, and angels from heaven wouldn't bring it on again. I never had it in my mind for an instant moment to take any man but you, and if I haven't been patient and long-suffering, waiting till your insulting caution was at an end, then God never made a patient woman. But it's off, as you truly remark, and I'm very well content to remain the relic of John Stocks, who valued me and who died blessing my name."

He went out with his head down and his nose very near touching his stomach; and after he'd gone I got in the house so limp as a dead rat. I'd bluffed it all right to Gregory; but when my flame cooled, I found the tears on my face and let 'em run for an hour. Then I calmed down and licked my bruises, so to speak, and felt a terrible wish for to hear a friendly fellow creature and get a bit of sympathy out of someone. For I'm a very sociable kind of woman; so I put on my bonnet and was just going round to see Mrs. Vincent and ask after the new baby and then tell my tale, her being a dear friend to me and her family also, when another man came to my door and there stood my son Rupert--him known as 'Mother's Misfortune,' to distinguish him from my dear eldest one.

I wasn't in no mood for Rupert, and I told him so, but I marked he was mildly excited, and that being a most unusual state for him, I stopped five minutes and axed him what he'd come for.

"You'll laugh," he said sitting down and lighting his pipe.

"I ain't in a very laughing temper," I answered, "and if I laugh at anything you say, it will be the first time in your life I ever have done."

"Dry up," he said, "and listen. I've just come for a bit of a tell with Minnie Parable."

Then I forgot myself.

"To hell with Minnie Parable!" I cried out. "I don't want to hear nothing about that misbegot vixen."

For once Rupert was astonished, but he weren't so astonished as me a minute later.

"I'm sorry you take that view," he replied; "because she'll be your daughter-in-law in six weeks. I be going to marry her."

I never can stand more'n one shock a day, and now I felt myself getting out of hand terrible fast. But I drawed in a deep breath of air and fell on my chair.

"There's a good deal more in that woman than meets the eye," went on Rupert. "Her face would frighten a hedge-pig, no doubt, and her shape be mournful; but I ain't one to marry for decorations. She's a woman, and she can cook and she knows the value of money, and also knows my opinions on that subject. I didn't find her a bad sort by no means. She's got sense and she ain't a gadder, and would rather work than play, same as me."

"But her temper, Rupert, her famous temper," I murmured to the man, "and her woeful, craakin voice."

"Nobody won't hear no more about her famous temper," he said, "not after she's married me. If I don't cast her temper out of her in a week, then I ain't the man I count myself; and as for her voice, that won't trouble me neither. I'm a peace-lover, and her voice will damned soon be stilled when I'm home to hear it."

It didn't sound promising to my ear, and if it had been any other she but Minnie Parable, I might have felt sorry for the woman.

"D'you mean she's took you?" I asked, still fluttering to the roots.

"She will," he answered. "I was waitin' till I happened to fall in with her, and having done so, I said I wanted a wife, because it was time I had one, and I told her that I saw the makings of a useful woman in her and invited her to turn it over. She was a good bit surprised and couldn't believe her luck for a bit. In fact, if I'd pressed her, or kissed her, or anything like that, she'd have said 'Yes' instanter. But I bade her to keep shut till to-morrow morning, and then be at the north lodge at five-thirty with her answer. And she'll be there."

Rupert had never talked so much in his life afore, and I could see he was tired. In fact he rose up after that last speech and went off without another word. And I knew that Minnie would be up to time also, for she weren't going to say "No" to the first and last as was ever like to offer for her.

And I turned over the mystery and very soon felt in my bones there must be something hidden. Rupert might have had a dozen girls, for there's lots of meek women like his overbearing, brutal sort and would have been very well content to take him, well knowing he spelled safety if no more; but for him, a saver and dealer in the main chance to marry at all, let alone an object like Minnie, meant far more than I could fathom out. He'd said himself there was more to her than met the eyes, and no doubt there was; but her promise was hidden from me, and I puzzled half that night and three parts of the next day, though all in vain.

There was my own sad case also, and, of course, a very painful duty lay in front of me. But I ain't one to let misery fester and so, twenty-four hours after my shocking adventure with Gregory, I went right over to Arthur Parable and told him all.

He was a good bit amused, in fact I never heard him laugh so hearty, and I got a thought hot about it; but he hadn't nothing much to say except I was well rid of Mr. Sweet. "A man like that," said Arthur, "was never meant to wed. Caution such as his in the home would mighty soon have drove you daft. And there's the makings of a tyrant in Gregory, by your own showing, for the man who resents freedom to his woman before marriage, may very like lock her up afterwards."

"I weren't his woman," I said, "and I didn't take it lying down, neither. He got the truth, and he didn't like it."

"I'd have give a finger off my hand to have heard you," declared Arthur, and then he laughed again; and then he grew serious and offered hope.

"Mark me," he said. "He ain't done with you. This is no more than a fit of silly temper and I dare say, though you think you're defeated, you'll find you've conquered before a week's sped."

"I don't want to conquer," I answered. "I wouldn't take the man now if he was twice what he is. Along with you I've found that there's better than Greg. I've got over the shock and I won't take him now, even if he wants me. There's a tyrant hid behind the man, as you say."

Arthur considered.

"I wouldn't swear but what you might be right," he declared.

And then I let drop a hint or two, though well within manners.

"If there was more like you," I told Arthur, "I might be tempted, but since I've heard you, I very well know Mr. Sweet at his best never held a candle to you."

"Once bit twice shy," said Parable, and strange to say, from that moment I took a violent fancy to the man. However, he'd grasped my meaning, as his answer showed, and next time I met him, he was happier than I'd ever known him to be. Joy blazed in his face and he walked like a young man.

"'My, Arthur!" I said, "who's left you a fortune?"

"Better than that," he answered. "Your Rupert have offered for Minnie and wants to be married in six weeks. It sounds like a fairy story; but there's no doubt seemingly; and don't you put him off her, or I'll never speak to you again, Mary."

"It would take more than me to put Rupert off anything he wanted," I replied. "And, to tell truth, this is no surprise to me. He's very well pleased with his bargain, and I do hope you see your way to give Minnie a pinch of cash, for that will lighten Arthur's heart amazing and keep him faithful till they be wed."

"So I thought," replied Arthur. "In fact I've gone so far as to name one hundred pounds if they're man and wife afore Michaelmas."

"Then fear no more," I said. "It will happen."

The same night affairs rushed on to their amazing conclusion and Rupert staggered me once more. For the first time in his life he willed to pleasure me, and it showed the secret power of the man, that again he talked as if a deed was already done afore the difficulties had been faced.

Minnie had told him all about my adventures, indeed they was common knowledge now, and many had heard how Mr. Sweet had fallen off. Some came to say they was sorry, and some thought it a pretty good escape, and some of his friends would never know me no more. But Rupert didn't waste no time on Gregory; he was in a wonderful amiable mood and I could see Arthur's hundred pounds had touched him in his tenderest spot. And then, in his blunt way, he went to the centre of the situation and asked me if I'd like to marry Arthur.

"Because," he said, "if you would, you shall!"

"You'll puzzle me to my dying day," I answered. "And how be it in your power to give me Arthur Parable, supposing I was to want him? It's a delicate subject," I said, "and he will never take another, having all he wanted with his first."

"Don't jaw," my son answered me. "For once I can do you a turn; but if you're going to bleat about it, I shall not. Do you want Arthur Parable, or don't you?"

An indecent man was Rupert, and always above any of them nice shades in conversation that manners point to and proper feeling expects. However, that sort don't think the worse of you for sinking to their level, and I well understood that he meant what he said and would be off if I didn't answer straight.

"Between mother and son, I may speak," I answered Rupert, "and if you want to know, though what business it is of yours I can't say, I should be willing to take Mr. Parable if the idea got in his mind."

"Right then," answered Rupert. "It damn soon will get in his mind."

And he was gone.

I heard the end of the tale next day, when Arthur himself looked in.

He was a bit comical tempered at first, but he thawed out after a drop and asked me to marry him, and I asked whether it was from the heart, or there lay anything behind. And then he told me that Rupert had been to see him and told him that I wanted him cruel and that he must take me; and that if he didn't, he wouldn't wed Minnie! "Your son's a man," said Arthur, "as I won't neighbour with, Mary, and you mustn't expect I shall; but there's a hateful, cold-blooded power about your Rupert. And there's mysteries hid in him. And he's one too many for me, or any other decent and orderly spirit. Of course, if I've got to choose between having my darter on my hands for ever and another wife, only a lunatic would hesitate, and since it had to be, I'd a lot rather it was you than any other I can call to mind. And truth's truth, and I hope you'll allow for the queerness, and take a man who's very addicted to you and can be trusted to serve you as you deserve."

With that I told him he must court me without any regard to Rupert, and explained the whole plot was Rupert's, and not mine.

"There's something devious about it," I said, "or it wouldn't be Rupert. You exercise your manhood, Arthur," I said, "and make up your own mind, and don't let my son make it up for you. 'Tis past bearing," I said, "and I won't stand for it. Who be he to drive us?"

"You swear afore your God it wasn't your own idea," ordered Arthur, and he cheered up when I put my hand on the Book in my parlour and swore most solemn I'd never thought of no such thing.

"In that case," he said, "I feel a good bit hopefuller, and when you ax if Rupert looked ahead with his eye to the main chance, of course he did. If you come to me, mine's yours when I go to ground, or else Minnie's, so Rupert knows the future's safe either way."

"There's my son John," I said, "but this I tell you, Arthur, I'll come to you on one condition only, that you leave all to Minnie after I'm gone. For it shall never be said that I stood between her and her own. Her, or her childer, must be the gainers."

He laughed at the thought of childer, with Minnie and my Rupert for their parents; and from that time he warmed up and showed his true nature, and we was tokened three days later, so as I was able to tell Mr. Sweet about it, when he'd thought over his mistake and crept on to the warpath again.

And the marriages took place in due course, and me and Arthur was properly happy; and when old Dowager Lady Martin went home, we found the mystery solved.

You see, Rupert had been told off one shooting day to look after a young lawyer and give him some sport, because his Lordship wanted to please the young man's father, who was his own man of business. This chap took to Rupert, by reason of his queer nature, and when they was eating their sandwiches, he must needs talk and chaff my son. He told Rupert about a will as he'd drawed back along for the Dowager, and how an old butler at Tudor Manor was down for five hundred, and the cook for two hundred, and a lady's maid, as served her before she took to her bed and had two nurses, was down for five hundred. But the lawyer named no names and didn't know that Rupert knew who that lady's maid was. And in any case the rash youth never ought to have opened his mouth, of course, on such a secret subject.

But twenty-four hours later, my 'Mother's Misfortune' was tokened to Minnie Parable, and when the Dowager died, of course the money came Rupert's way.

Strange to relate, it was a tolerable happy marriage as such things go. They bore with one another pretty fair, and though you couldn't say it was a homely pattern of home, and struck shivers into most folk as saw it, it suited them. She never put no poison in Rupert's tea, and he never cut her throat nor nothing like that. One child they had and no more; and he'll get his grandfather's little lot when I don't want it, and John'll get mine.

Rupert's child weren't one for a Christmas card exactly; but they set a lot of store by him. Minnie saw through it, of course, when the Dowager died; but she'd got Rupert which was what mattered to her, and she knew the money was bound to goody all right in her husband's hands; which it did do.

No. VII

STEADFAST SAMUEL

Samuel Borlase was one of them rare childer who see his calling fixed in his little mind from cradlehood. We all know that small boys have big ideas and that they fasten on the business of grown-up people and decide, each according to his fancy, how he be going to help the world's work come he grows up. This child hopes to be a chimney-sweep, and this longs to be a railway-porter; scores trust to follow the sea and dozens wish for to be a soldier, or a 'bus-conductor, a gardener, or a road-cleaner, as the ambition takes 'em. My own grandson much desired to clean the roads, because, as he pointed out, the men ordained for that job do little but play about and smoke and spit and watch the traffic and pass the time of day with one another. He also learned that they got three pounds a week of public money for their fun, and half-holidays of a Saturday, so to his youthful mind it seemed a likely calling.

But most often the ambitions of the human boys be like to change if their parents get much luck in the world, so when you see a steadfast creature, like Samuel Borlase, answer the call in his heart almost so soon as he can walk and talk, you feel the rare event worth setting down.