Kenny I. Dodd.

LETTER XVII. MRS. DODD TO MISTRESS MARY GALLAGHER, DODSBOROUGH

The Rhine Hotel, Bonn.

MY dear Molly,--If my well-known hand did not strike you, the sight of all the black around this letter, and the mourning seal, might suggest the thought that your poor Jemima was no more. Your next impression will be that Providence had sent for K. I. No, my dear Molly, I am still reserved for more trials in this vale of tears. I must bear my burden further! As for K. I., he's just as he used to be,--croaking away about the pain in his toe, or a gouty cramp in his stomach. He's always taking things that disagrees with him, and what he calls the "correctives"

makes him worse. I cannot give you the least notion of how irritable he 's grown. You know as well as anybody the blessings he has about him. I don't speak of myself, nor the stock I came from. I don't want to revive the dreadful mistake that I made in my youth, nor to mention the struggles I 've had with him on every subject for more than five-and-twenty years,--struggles, my dear Molly, that would have killed any one that had n't the const.i.tution of a horse; but that now, thanks to the goodness of Providence, have become a part of my nature, so that there is n't an hour of the day or night that I 'm not able and willing to dispute and argue with him on any question whatsoever. I don't want to mention these blessings,--but is n't there James and Mary Anne, and, indeed, except for some things, Caroline,--was there ever a father with more reason to be proud? And so you 'd say if you only saw them. As a dear friend of mine, Mrs. Gore Hampton, said this morning, "Where will you see such natural advantages?" And I must own, Molly, it's not flattery; for the way they talk French and waltz, even how they come into a room, salute, or sit down, has something in it that shows them to be brought up in the top of fashion.

Any other man than K. I. would overflow with grat.i.tude for all this, but you 'd scarcely believe, Molly, he only ridicules it!

"If we meant her for the stage," says he,--this is the way he talks of Mary Anne,--"if we meant her for the stage, I think she has effrontery enough to stand before a full house, and I don't say it would discompose her; but for the wife of some respectable man of the middle rank, I see no use in all this flouncing about here, and flourishing there, whisking through a room, upsetting small tables and crockery by way of gracefulness, and never sitting down on a chair till she has spread out her petticoats like a peac.o.c.k!"

If I 've said it once to him, Molly, I 've said it fifty times, there's nothing I despise so much as a respectable man in the middle rank.

There's no refinement about them,--no elegance! They may be what's called estimable in their families; but what's the use of all that for the world at large? A man can only have one wife, but he may have a thousand acquaintances. We don't ask how amiable he is at home; what we want is, that he should be delightful abroad. "That," says Lord George, "is true, both socially and economically; it's the grand principle that everybody stands up for, 'the greatest happiness of the greatest number!'" And talking of this, I 'd strenuously advise your cultivating your mind on matters of political economy. It appears dry and uninteresting at first, but as you get on it improves wonderfully, and takes a great hold of the mind. I don't think I was ever more unhappy than since I read a chapter describing what would become of us when the population got too thick; and if the unthinking creatures in Ireland don't take warning, it's exactly what will happen. When my mind was full of it, I ordered up Betty Cobb, and gave her such a lecture about it she 'll never forget.

But you 'll say it's not for this I 'm gone into black; neither is it, Molly,--it's for my poor relative, the late Jones McCarthy, of the Folly, one of the last surviving members of the great McCarthy stock, in the west of Ireland. Grief and sorrow for the miserable condition of his country preyed upon him, and made him seek obliteration in drink; and more's the pity, for he was a man of enlarged understanding and capacious mind. My heart overflows when I think of the beautiful sentiments I 've heard from him at various times. He loved his country, and it was a treat to hear him praise it. "Ah!" he would say, "there's but one blot on her,--the judges is rogues, the Government 's rogues, the grand jury's rogues, and the people is villains!"

He died as he lived, a little in drink, but a true patriot "Tell Jemima," says he, "I forgive her. She was a child when she married, and she never meant to disgrace us; but as she now succeeds to the estate, I hope she 'll have the pride to resume the family name."

Yes, Molly, the M'Carthy property, that once extended from Gorramuck to Knocksheedownie, with seventeen townlands and four baronies, descends now to me. To be sure, it was all mortgaged over and over again, and 'tis little there's left but the parchments and the maps; and, except the property in the funds, there 's not a great deal coming to me. This is all that I know at present, for Waters, the attorney, writes in such a confused way, I can make nothing of it, and I don't wish to show the letter to K. I. That seems strange to you, Molly, but you 'll think it stranger when I tell you that the bare notion of my succeeding to the estate drives him half crazy. He thinks that all the money being on his side makes up for his low birth, and makes a Dodd equal to a M'Carthy, and that now when I get my fortune the tables will be turned. Maybe he 's right there; I won't say that he is not; but sure it would be time enough to show this feeling when my manner was changed to him.

I suppose he must have heard something from Purcell about the matter, for when I came into the room, with my eyes red from crying, he said, "Is it for old Jones M'Carthy you 're crying? Begad, then, you must have a feeling heart, for you never saw him since you were three years old!"

Did you ever hear a more barbarous speech, Molly, not to say a more ignorant one? Twenty or thirty years might be a very long time in a family called Dodd, but is it more than a week or so in one with the name of M'Carthy? And so I told him.

"You don't pretend that you 're sorry after him?" says he. And I could only answer him with my sobs. "If it was Giles Moore, the distiller,"

says he, "that went into mourning, one could understand the sense of it, for _he_ has lost a friend indeed!"

"They're to bury him in Cloughdesman Abbey," says I, not wishing to let his sarcastic remarks provoke me.

"They need n't take much trouble about embalming him, anyway," says he, "for there's more whiskey soaked into him than could preserve a whole family!"

You may think, Molly, how far I was overcome by grief when he ventured to talk this way to me; and, indeed, I left the room in a flood of tears. When I grew more composed, I went over Waters's letter again with Mary Anne, but without any great success. There is so much law in it, and so many words that we never saw before, and to which, indeed, our pocket dictionary gave us little help: Administer being set down,--to perform the duty of an administrator; and for Administrator, we are told to see Administer,--a kind of hide-and-go-seek that one does n't expect in books like this.

The lawyers and the doctors, my dear Molly, go on the same plan,--they never let us know the hard names they have for everything. If we once come to do that, we 'll know what's the matter with ourselves and our affairs, and neither need one nor the other. Mary Anne thinks that administering means going to show the will to somebody that's to pay the money; but my private opinion is that it's something about Ministers'

Money, for I remember my poor cousin Jones never would consent to pay it, nor, indeed, anything else that went to the Established Church.

It was against his conscience, he used to say; and the Government that coerces a man's conscience is worthy of "Grim Tartary." My notion is, then, that they 're coming against me for the arrears, as if I had n't any conscience too!

At all events, Molly, the property is to come to _me_; and the very thought of it gives me a feeling of independence and pride that is really overwhelming. K. I.'s temper was, indeed, becoming a sore trial, and how I was to go on bearing it was more than I could imagine. He may now return to Ireland and his dear Dodsborough whenever he pleases. Mary Anne and I are determined to live abroad. Fortunately for us we have made acquaintance with a very distinguished English lady--a Mrs. Gore Hampton--who can introduce us everywhere. She is in the very height of the fashion, and knows all the great people of Europe. She took a sudden liking--I might call it an affection--for me and Mary Anne, and actually proposed our all travelling together as one party. There never was luck like it, Molly! She has a beautiful barouche of her own, with the arms on it, and a French maid and a courier, and such heaps of luggage, you wouldn't believe it could be carried. K. I. was afraid of the expense, and gave, as you may believe, every kind of opposition to the plan. He said it would "lead us into this," and "lead us into that;" the great thing he dreaded being led into--as I told him--being good society and high company.

So far from costing us anything, I believe it will be a considerable saving; for, as Lord George says, "You can always make a better bargain at the hotels when you 're a strong party." And he has kindly taken the whole of this on himself.

He is a wonderful young man, Lord George; and, considering his tip-top rank and connections, he's never above doing anything to serve, or be useful to us. He knows K. I. as well, too, as I do myself. "Let _me_ alone," says he, "to manage the governor; _I_ know him. He's always grumbling about expense and moaning over his poverty; but you may remark that he does get the money somehow." And the observation is remarkably just, Molly; for no matter what distress or distraction he's in, he does contrive to rub through it; and this convinces me that he is only deceiving us in talking about his want of means, and so forth. Since I have discovered this, I never fret the way I used about expense.

It was Lord George that arranged our compact with Mrs. G. "You had better leave all to me," said he to K. I., "for Mrs. Gore Hampton is a perfect child about money. She tells that old fool of a courier to put a hundred pounds in his bag, and he pays away till it's all gone, or till he says it's gone; and then she gives him another check for the same amount. So that she's not bored with accounts, nor ever hears of them, she never cares."

"Of course, then," said I, "her expenses are very great."

"I should say enormous," replied he; "for though personally the simplest creature on earth, she never objects to the cost of anything."

I hinted that, with our moderate fortune, we should never be able to maintain a style of living equal to hers; but he stopped me short, saying, "Don't let that distress you; besides, she has taken such a fancy for you and Miss Dodd that it would be a downright cruelty to deny her your companionship; and at this moment, too, when really she requires sympathy." I was dying to ask on what account, Molly,--was it that she is a widow, or is she separated, and what?--but I had n't the courage; nor, indeed, did he give me time, for he went on so fast: "Let her pay half the expense, it's only fair; she has plenty of tin, and nothing to do with it Even then she will be a gainer, for old Grgoire pockets as much as he pays away."

You 'd suppose, Molly, that an arrangement so liberal as this might have satisfied K. I. Not a bit of it His only remark was, "What 's to be the amount of the other half?"

"Do you expect to travel about the Continent for nothing, K. I.?" said I. "Does your experience say that it costs so little?"

"No, faith!" replied he, with that sardonic grin that almost kills me, "I can't say that."

"Well, then," said I, "is it better for us to go about the world unnoticed and unknown, or to be visited and received, and made much of everywhere? The name of Dodd," said I, "is n't a great recommendation; and there 's some of us, at least, that have n't the exterior of the first fashion." I wish you saw how he fidgeted when I said this. "And as the great question is, What did we come abroad for?--"

"Ay, that's exactly it!" cried he, thumping his clenched fist on the table with a smash that made me scream out. "What did we come abroad for?"

"There 's no need to drive all the blood to my head, Mr. Dodd," said I, "to ask that. Though I am accustomed to your violence, my const.i.tution may sink under it at last; but if you wish to know seriously and calmly why we came abroad, I 'll tell you."

"Do, then," said he, folding his arms in front of him, "and I'll be mighty thankful for the information."

"We came abroad," said I, "first of all, for--"

"It was n't economy," said he, with a grin.

"No, not exactly."

"I'm glad of that," cried he. "I'm glad that we've got rid of one delusion, at least. Now, then, go on."

"Maybe you 'll call refinement a delusion, Mr. Dodd," said I. "Maybe politeness and good-breeding, the French language and music are delusions? Is high society a delusion? Is the sphere we move in a delusion?"

"I am disposed to think it is, Mrs. D.," said he, "and a very great delusion too. It's like nothing we were ever used to. It is not social, and it is not friendly. It has nothing to say, nor any concern with a single topic, or any one theme that we can care for. Do you know one, or can you even remember the names of any of the princes and princesses you are always discussing? Do you really care whether Mademoiselle Zephyrini's pirouette was steadier than Miss Angelina's? Does it concern you that somebody with a hard name has given the first-cla.s.s order of the Pig and Whistle to somebody else, with a harder? Is it the meat stewed to rags you like, or the reputations with morality boiled out of them? Is it pleasant to think that, wherever you go, you meet nothing wholesome for mind or for body? I can stand scandal and wickedness as well as my neighbors, but I can't spend my life upon them, nor can I give up the whole day to dominos. You ask me what are delusions, and I tell you now some things that are not."

But I would n't listen to more, Molly. I stopped him short by saying, "You, at least, Mr. D., have little reason for your regrets; for really, in all that regards your manner, language, dress, and demeanor, no one would ever suspect you had been a day out of Dodsborough."

"I wish to my heart my bank account could tell the same story," says he; and with that he takes down a file of bills, and begins to read out some of what he calls his anti-delusions.

"Do you know, Mrs. D.," says he, "that your milliner has got more money in the last four months than I have spent on my estate for the last eight years? That Genoa velvet and Mechlin lace have run away with what would have drained the Low Meadows! Ay, the price of that red turban, that made you look like Bluebeard, would have put a roof on the school-house. The priest of our parish at home did n't get as much for his dues as you gave for a seat to look at a procession in honor of Saint--Saint--"

"If you 're going to blaspheme, Mr. D.," said I, "I 'll leave you;"and so I did, Molly, banging the door after me in a way that I know well his gouty ankle is not the better for.

I mention these particulars to show you the difficulties I have to contend against, and the struggles it costs me to give my children the benefits of the Continent. I intended to tell you something about this place where we are stopping, too; but my head is rambling now on other matters, so that, maybe, I'll not be able to say much.

It's a university, just like Trinity College in Dublin, only they don't wear gowns, nor keep within certain buildings, but scatter about over the whole town. We know several of the young men who are princes, and more or less related to crowned heads; but for all that, very simple, quiet, inoffensive creatures as ever you met. Billy Davis, after he was articled to that attorney in Abbey Street, had more impudence in him than them all put together.

The place itself is pretty, but I think it does n't suit my const.i.tution. Maybe it's the running water, for there's a big river under the windows, but I am never free from cold in my head, and weak eyes. To be sure, we are always doing imprudent things, such as sitting out till after midnight in a summer-house, where the young Germans come to sing for us,--for singing and smoking, Molly, is their two pa.s.sions.

It's a melancholy kind of music they have, that has no tune whatever, nor anything like a tune in it; but as Mrs. G. and my daughters agree that it's beautiful, why, of course, I give in, and say the same. But, in confidence to you, Molly, I own that it puts me to sleep at once; and, indeed, most of our other amus.e.m.e.nts here are of the same kind. We are either botanizing, or looking for stones and sh.e.l.ls, to tell us the age of the world. Faith! you may well stare, Molly, but it 's truth I 'm saying, that is what they pretend to find out. They got an elephant's jawbone the other day, that gave them great delight, and K. I. said, "I could tell a horse's age by his teeth, but for guessing how old the earth is by an elephant's grinders is clear beyond me."

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