"Then what the devil's the use of talking about it so long?" said the dutiful son, hastily jumping up from the chair in which he had again sat down. "Did you bring me down to Grey Abbey merely to tell me that you knew of my difficulties, and that you could do nothing to a.s.sist me?"

"Now, don't put yourself into a pa.s.sion--pray don't!" said the father, a little frightened by the sudden ebullition. "If you'll sit down, and listen to me, I'll tell you what I propose. I did not send for you here without intending to point out to you some method of extricating yourself from your present pecuniary embarra.s.sment; and, if you have any wish to give up your course, of--I must say, reckless profusion, and commence that upright and distinguished career, which I still hope to see you take, you will, I think, own that my plan is both a safer and a more expedient one than that which you have proposed. It is quite time for you now to abandon the expensive follies of youth; and,"--Lord Cashel was getting into a delightfully dignified tone, and felt himself prepared for a good burst of common-place eloquence; but his son looked impatient, and as he could not take such liberty with him as he could with Lord Ballindine, he came to the point at once, and ended abruptly by saying, "and get married."

"For the purpose of allowing my wife to pay my debts?"

"Why, not exactly that; but as, of course, you could not marry any woman but a woman with a large fortune, that would follow as a matter of consequence."

"Your lordship proposes the fortune not as the first object of my affection, but merely as a corollary. But, perhaps, it will be as well that you should finish your proposition, before I make any remarks on the subject." And Lord Kilcullen, sat down, with a well-feigned look of listless indifference.

"Well, Kilcullen, I have latterly been thinking much about you, and so has your poor mother. She is very uneasy that you should still--still be unmarried; and Jervis has written to me very strongly. You see it is quite necessary that something should be done--or we shall both be ruined. Now, if I did raise this sum--and I really could not do it--I don't think I could manage it, just at present; but, even if I did, it would only be encouraging you to go on just in the same way again. Now, if you were to marry, your whole course of life would be altered, and you would become, at the same time, more respectable and more happy."

"That would depend a good deal upon circ.u.mstances, I should think."

"Oh! I am sure you would. You are just the same sort of fellow I was when at your age, and I was much happier after I was married, so I know it. Now, you see, your cousin has a hundred thousand pounds; in fact something more than that."

"What?--f.a.n.n.y! Poor Ballindine! So that's the way with him is it! When I was contradicting the rumour of his marriage with f.a.n.n.y, I little thought that I was to be his rival! At any rate, I shall have to shoot him first."

"You might, at any rate, confine yourself to sense, Lord Kilcullen, when I am taking so much pains to talk sensibly to you, on a subject which, I presume, cannot but interest you."

"Indeed, my lord, I'm all attention; and I do intend to talk sensibly when I say that I think you are proposing to treat Ballindine very ill.

The world will think well of your turning him adrift on the score of the match being an imprudent one; but it won't speak so leniently of you if you expel him, as soon as your ward becomes an heiress, to make way for your own son."

"You know that I'm not thinking of doing so. I've long seen that Lord Ballindine would not make a fitting husband for f.a.n.n.y--long before Harry died."

"And you think that I shall?"

"Indeed I do. I think she will be lucky to get you."

"I'm flattered into silence: pray go on."

"You will be an earl--a peer--and a man of property. What would she become if she married Lord Ballindine?"

"Oh, you are quite right! Go on. I wonder it never occurred to her before to set her cap at me."

"Now do be serious. I wonder how you can joke on such a subject, with all your debts. I'm sure I feel them heavy enough, if you don't. You see Lord Ballindine was refused--I may say he was refused--before we heard about that poor boy's unfortunate death. It was the very morning we heard of it, three or four hours before the messenger came, that f.a.n.n.y had expressed her resolution to declare it off, and commissioned me to tell him so. And, therefore, of course, the two things can't have the remotest reference to each other."

"I see. There are, or have been, two f.a.n.n.y Wyndhams--separate persons, though both wards of your lordship. Lord Ballindine was engaged to the girl who had a brother; but he can have no possible concern with f.a.n.n.y Wyndham, the heiress, who has no brother."

"How can you be so unfeeling?--but you may pay your debts in your own way. You won't ever listen to what I have to say! I should have thought that, as your father, I might have considered myself ent.i.tled to more respect from you."

"Indeed, my lord, I'm all respect and attention, and I won't say one more word till you've finished."

"Well--you must see, there can be no objection on the score of Lord Ballindine?"

"Oh, none at all."

"And then, where could f.a.n.n.y wish for a better match than yourself? it would be a great thing for her, and the match would be, in all things, so--so respectable, and just what it ought to be; and your mother would be so delighted, and so should I, and--"

"Her fortune would so nicely pay all my debts."

"Exactly. Of course, I should take care to have your present income--five thousand a year--settled on her, in the shape of jointure; and I'm sure that would be treating her handsomely. The interest of her fortune would not be more than that."

"And what should we live on?"

"Why, of course, I should continue your present allowance."

"And you think that that which I have found so insufficient for myself, would be enough for both of us?"

"You must make it enough, Kilcullen--in order that there may be something left to enable you to keep up your t.i.tle when I am gone."

By this time, Lord Kilcullen appeared to be as serious, and nearly as solemn, as his father, and he sat, for a considerable time, musing, till his father said, "Well, Kilcullen, will you take my advice?"

"It's impracticable, my lord. In the first place, the money must be paid immediately, and considerable delay must occur before I could even offer to Miss Wyndham; and, in the next place, were I to do so, I am sure she would refuse me."

"Why; there must be some delay, of course. But I suppose, if I pa.s.sed my word, through Jervis, for so much of the debts as are immediate, that a settlement might be made whereby they might stand over for twelve months, with interest, of course. As to refusing you, it's not at all likely: where would she look for a better offer?"

"I don't know much of my cousin; but I don't think she's exactly the girl to take a man because he's a good match for her."

"Perhaps not. But then, you know, you understand women so well, and would have such opportunities; you would be sure to make yourself agreeable to her, with very little effort on your part."

"Yes, poor thing--she would be delivered over, ready bound, into the lion's den." And then the young man sat silent again, for some time, turning the matter over in his mind. At last, he said,--

"Well, my lord; I am a considerate and a dutiful son, and I will agree to your proposition: but I must saddle it with conditions. I have no doubt that the sum which I suggested should be paid through your agent, could be arranged to be paid in a year, or eighteen months, by your making yourself responsible for it, and I would undertake to indemnify you. But the thirty thousand pounds I must have at once. I must return to London, with the power of raising it there, without delay. This, also, I would repay you out of f.a.n.n.y's fortune. I would then undertake to use my best endeavours to effect a union with your ward. But I most positively will not agree to this--nor have any hand in the matter, unless I am put in immediate possession of the sum I have named, and unless you will agree to double my income as soon as I am married."

To both these propositions the earl, at first, refused to accede; but his son was firm. Then, Lord Cashel agreed to put him in immediate possession of the sum of money he required, but would not hear of increasing his income. They argued, discussed, and quarrelled over the matter, for a long time; till, at last, the anxious father, in his pa.s.sion, told his son that he might go his own way, and that he would take no further trouble to help so unconscionable a child. Lord Kilcullen rejoined by threatening immediately to throw the whole of the property, which was entailed on himself, into the hands of the Jews.

Long they argued and bargained, till each was surprised at the obstinacy of the other. They ended, however, by splitting the difference, and it was agreed, that Lord Cashel was at once to hand over thirty thousand pounds, and to take his son's bond for the amount; that the other debts were to stand over till f.a.n.n.y's money was forthcoming; and that the income of the newly married pair was to be seven thousand five hundred a-year.

"At least," thought Lord Kilcullen to himself, as he good-humouredly shook hands with his father at the termination of the interview--"I have not done so badly, for those infernal dogs will be silenced, and I shall get the money. I could not have gone back without that. I can go on with the marriage, or not, as I may choose, hereafter. It won't be a bad speculation, however."

To do Lord Cashel justice, he did not intend cheating his son, nor did he suspect his son of an intention to cheat him. But the generation was deteriorating.

XIV. THE COUNTESS

It was delightful to see on what good terms the earl and his son met that evening at dinner. The latter even went so far as to be decently civil to his mother, and was quite attentive to f.a.n.n.y. She, however, did not seem to appreciate the compliment. It was now a fortnight since she had heard of her brother's death, and during the whole of that time she had been silent, unhappy, and fretful. Not a word more had been said to her about Lord Ballindine, nor had she, as yet, spoken about him to any one; but she had been thinking about little else, and had ascertained,--at least, so she thought,--that she could never be happy, unless she were reconciled to him.

The more she brooded over the subject, the more she felt convinced that such was the case; she could not think how she had ever been induced to sanction, by her name, such an unwarrantable proceeding as the unceremonious dismissal of a man to whom her troth had been plighted, merely because he had not called to see her. As for his not writing, she was aware that Lord Cashel had recommended that, till she was of age, they should not correspond. As she thought the matter over in her own room, long hour after hour, she became angry with herself for having been talked into a feeling of anger for him. What right had she to be angry because he kept horses? She could not expect him to put himself into Lord Cashel's leading-strings. Indeed, she thought she would have liked him less if he had done so. And now, to reject him just when circ.u.mstances put it in her power to enable her to free him from his embarra.s.sments, and live a manner becoming his station!

What must Frank think of her?--For he could not but suppose that her rejection had been caused by her unexpected inheritance.

In the course of the fortnight, she made up her mind that all Lord Cashel had said to Lord Ballindine should be unsaid;--but who was to do it? It would be a most unpleasant task to perform; and one which, she was aware, her guardian would be most unwilling to undertake. She fully resolved that she would do it herself, if she could find no fitting amba.s.sador to undertake the task, though that would be a step to which she would fain not be driven. At one time, she absolutely thought of asking her cousin, Kilcullen, about it:--this was just before his leaving Grey Abbey; he seemed so much more civil and kind than usual.

But then, she knew so little of him, and so little liked what she did know: that scheme, therefore, was given up. Lady Selina was so cold, and prudent--would talk to her so much about propriety, self-respect, and self-control, that she could not make a confidante of her. No one could talk to Selina on any subject more immediately interesting than a Roman Emperor, or a pattern for worsted-work. f.a.n.n.y felt that she would not be equal, herself, to going boldly to Lord Cashel, and desiring him to inform Lord Ballindine that he had been mistaken in the view he had taken of his ward's wishes: no--that was impossible; such a proceeding would probably bring on a fit of apoplexy.

There was no one else to whom she could apply, but her aunt. Lady Cashel was a very good-natured old woman, who slept the greatest portion of her time, and knitted through the rest of her existence. She did not take a prominent part in any of the important doings of Grey Abbey; and, though Lord Cashel constantly referred to her, for he thought it respectable to do so, no one regarded her much. f.a.n.n.y felt, however, that she would neither scold her, ridicule her, nor refuse to listen: to Lady Cashel, therefore, at last, she went for a.s.sistance.

Her ladyship always pa.s.sed the morning, after breakfast, in a room adjoining her own bed-room, in which she daily held deep debate with Griffiths, her factotum, respecting household affairs, knitting-needles, and her own little ailments and cossetings.