第202章

Frank began to fear that no good would be coming when his mother spoke in that strain. 'I will do the best I can,' said he, 'up in town. I can't help thinking myself that Mr Gazebee might have done as well, but--'

'Oh, dear no; by no means. In such cases the principal must show himself. Besides, it is right you should know how matters stand. Who is so much interested in it as you are? Poor Frank! I do so often feel for you when I think how the property has dwindled.'

'Pray do not mind me, mother. Why should you talk of it as my matter while my father is not yet forty-five? His life, so to speak, is as good as mine. I can do very well without it; all I want is to be allowed to settle to something.'

'You mean a profession.'

'Yes; something of that sort.'

'They are all so slow, dear Frank. You, who speak French so well--I should think my brother might get you in as an attache to some embassy.'

'That wouldn't suit me at all,' said Frank.

'Well, we'll talk about that some other time. But I came about something else, and I do hope you will hear me.'

Frank's brow again grew black, for he knew that his mother was about to say something which it would be disagreeable for him to hear.

'I was with Mary, yesterday.'

'Well, mother?'

'Don't be angry with me, Frank; you can't but know that the fate of an only son must be a subject of anxiety to a mother.' Ah! how singularly altered was Lady Arabella's tone since first she had taken upon herself to discuss the marriage prospects of her son! Then how autocratic had she been as she went him away, bidding him, with full command, to throw himself into the golden embraces of Miss Dunstable! But now, how humble, as she came suppliantly to his room, craving that she might have leave to whisper into his ear a mother's anxious fears! Frank had laughed at her stern behests, though he had half obeyed them; but he was touched to the heart by her humility.

He drew his chair nearer to her, and took her by the hand. But she, disengaging hers, parted the hair from off his forehead, and kissed his brow. 'Oh, Frank,' she said, 'I have been so proud of you, am still so proud of you. It will send me to my grave if I see you sink below your proper position. Not that it will be your fault. I am sure it will not be your fault. Only circumstanced as you are, you should be doubly, trebly, careful. If your father had not--'

'Do not speak against my father.'

'No, Frank; I will not--no, I will not; not another word. And now, Frank--'

Before we go on we must say one word further as to Lady Arabella's character. It will probably be said that she was a consummate hypocrite; but at the present moment she was not hypocritical. She did love her son; was anxious--very, very anxious for him; was proud of him, and almost admired the obstinacy which so vexed her inmost soul. No grief would be to her so great as that of seeing him sink below what she conceived to be his position. She was as genuinely motherly, in wishing that he should marry money, as another woman might be in wishing to see her son a bishop; or as the Spartan matron, who preferred that her offspring should return on his shield, to hearing that he had come back whole in limb but tainted in honour. When Frank spoke of a profession, she instantly thought of what Lord de Courcy might do for him. If he would not marry money, he might, at any rate, be attache at an embassy.

A profession--hard work, as a doctor, or as an engineer--would, according to her ideas, degrade him; cause him to sink below his proper position; but to dangle at a foreign court, to make small talk at evening parties of a lady ambassadress, and occasionally, perhaps, to write demi-official notes containing demi-official tittle-tattle; this would be in proper accordance with the high honour of a Gresham of Greshamsbury.

We may not admire the direction taken by Lady Arabella's energy on behalf of her son, but that energy was not hypocritical.

'And now, Frank--' She looked wistfully into his face as she addressed him, as though half afraid to go on, and begging that he would receive with complaisance whatever she found herself forced to say.

'Well, mother?'

'I was with Mary yesterday.'

'Yes, yes; what then? I know what your feelings are with regard to her.'

'No, Frank; you wrong me. I have no feelings against her--none, indeed; none but this: that she is not fit to be your wife.'

'I think her fit.'

'Ah, yes; but how fit? Think of your position, Frank, and what means you have of keeping her. Think of what you are. Your father's only son; the heir to Greshamsbury. If Greshamsbury be ever again more than a name, it is you that must redeem it. Of all men living you are the least able to marry a girl like Mary Thorne.'

'Mother, I will not sell myself for what you call my position.'

'Who asks you? I do not ask you; nobody asks you. I do not want you to marry any one. I did think once--but let that pass. You are now twenty-three. In ten years' time you will still be a young man. I only ask you to wait. If you marry now, that is, marry such a girl as Mary Thorne--'

'Such a girl! Where shall I find another?'

'I mean as regards money, Frank; you know I mean that; how are you to live? Where are you to go? And then, her birth. Oh, Frank, Frank!'

'Birth! I hate such pretence. What was--but I won't talk about it.

Mother, I tell you my word is pledged, and on no account will I be induced to break it.'

'Ah, that's just it; that's just the point. Now, Frank, listen to me.

Pray listen to me patiently for one minute.'

Frank promised that he would listen patiently; but he looked anything but patient as he said so.

'I have seen Mary, as it was certainly my duty to do. You cannot be angry with me for that.'

'Who said that I was angry, mother?'

'Well, I have seen her, and I must own, that though she was not disposed to be courteous to me, personally, she said much that marked her excellent good sense. But the gist of it was this; that as she had made you a promise, nothing should turn her from that promise but your permission.'

'And do you think--'