_ PART I CHAPTER XVIII. THE CARROLL FAMILY
"Aunt Carroll is coming to dinner to-day," said Dolly the next day, with a serious face.
"I know she is. Have a nice dinner for her. I don't think she ever has a nice dinner at home."
"And the three eldest girls are coming."
"Three!"
"You asked them yourself on Sunday."
"Very well. They said their papa would be away on business." It was understood that Mr. Carroll was never asked to the Manor-house.
"Business! There is a club he belongs to where he dines and gets drunk once a month. It's the only thing he does regularly."
"They must have their dinner, at any rate," said Mr. Grey. "I don't think they should suffer because he drinks." This had been a subject much discussed between them, but on the present occasion Miss Grey would not renew it. She despatched her father in a cab, the cab having been procured because he was supposed to be a quarter of an hour late, and then went to work to order her dinner.
It has been said that Miss Grey hated the Carrolls; but she hated the daughters worse than the mother, and of all the people she hated in the world she hated Amelia Carroll the worst. Amelia, the eldest, entertained an idea that she was more of a personage in the world's eyes than her cousin,--that she went to more parties, which certainly was true if she went to any,--that she wore finer clothes, which was also true, and that she had a lover, whereas Dolly Grey,--as she called her cousin behind her back,--had none. This lover had something to do with horses, and had only been heard of, had never been seen, at the Manor-house. Sophy was a good deal hated also, being a forward, flirting, tricky girl of seventeen, who had just left the school at which Uncle John had paid for her education. Georgina, the third, was still at school under similar circumstances, and was pardoned her egregious noisiness and romping propensities under the score of youth. She was sixteen, and was possessed of terrible vitality. "I am sure they take after their father altogether," Mr. Grey had once said when the three left the Manor-house together. At half-past six punctually they came. Dolly heard a great clatter of four people leaving their clogs and cloaks in the hall, and would not move out of the unused drawing-room, in which for the moment she was seated. Betsey had to prepare the dinner-table down-stairs, and would have been sadly discomfited had she been driven to do it in the presence of three Carroll girls. For it must be understood that Betsey had no greater respect for the Carroll girls than her mistress. "Well, Aunt Carroll, how does the world use you?"
"Very badly. You haven't been up to see me for ten days."
"I haven't counted; but when I do come I don't often do any good. How are Minna, and Brenda, and Potsey?"
"Poor Potsey has got a nasty boil under her arm."
"It comes from eating too much toffy," said Georgina. "I told her it would."
"How very nasty you are!" said Miss Carroll. "Do leave the child and her ailments alone!"
"Poor papa isn't very well, either," said Sophy, who was supposed to be her father's pet.
"I hope his state of health will not debar him from dining with his friends to-night," said Miss Grey.
"You have always something ill-natured to say about papa," said Sophy.
"Nothing will ever keep him back when conviviality demands his presence." This came from his afflicted wife, who, in spite of all his misfortunes, would ever speak with some respect of her husband's employments. "He wasn't at all in a fit state to go to-night, but he had promised, and that was enough."
When they had waited three-quarters of an hour Amelia began to complain,--certainly not without reason. "I wonder why Uncle John always keeps us waiting in this way?"
"Papa has, unfortunately, something to do with his time, which is not altogether his own." There was not much in these words, but the tone in which they were uttered would have crushed any one more susceptible than Amelia Carroll. But at that moment the cab arrived, and Dolly went down to meet her father.
"Have they come?" he asked.
"Come," she answered, taking his gloves and comforter from him, and giving him a kiss as she did so. "That girl up-stairs is nearly famished."
"I won't be half a moment," said the repentant father, hastening up-stairs to go through his ordinary dressing arrangement.
"I wouldn't hurry for her," said Dolly; "but of course you'll hurry. You always do, don't you, papa?" Then they sat down to dinner.
"Well, girls, what is your news?"
"We were out to-day on the Brompton Road," said the eldest, "and there came up Prince Chitakov's drag with four roans."
"Prince Chitakov! I didn't know there was such a prince."
"Oh, dear, yes; with very stiff mustaches, turned up high at the corners, and pink cheeks, and a very sharp, nobby-looking hat, with a light-colored grey coat, and light gloves. You must know the prince."
"Upon my word, I never heard of him, my dear. What did the prince do?"
"He was tooling his own drag, and he had a lady with him on the box. I never saw anything more tasty than her dress,--dark red silk, with little fluffy fur ornaments all over it. I wonder who she was?"
"Mrs. Chitakov, probably," said the attorney.
"I don't think the prince is a married man," said Sophy.
"They never are, for the most part," said Amelia; "and she wouldn't be Mrs. Chitakov, Uncle John."
"Wouldn't she, now? What would she be? Can either of you tell me what the wife of a Prince of Chitakov would call herself?"
"Princess of Chitakov, of course," said Sophy. "It's the Princess of Wales."
"But it isn't the Princess of Christian, nor yet the Princess of Teck, nor the Princess of England. I don't see why the lady shouldn't be Mrs. Chitakov, if there is such a lady."
"Papa, don't bamboozle her," said his daughter.
"But," continued the attorney, "why shouldn't the lady have been his wife? Don't married ladies wear little fluffy fur ornaments?"
"I wish, John, you wouldn't talk to the girls in that strain," said their mother. "It really isn't becoming."
"To suggest that the lady was the gentleman's wife?"
"But I was going to say," continued Amelia, "that as the prince drove by he kissed his hand--he did, indeed. And Sophy and I were walking along as demurely as possible. I never was so knocked of a heap in all my life."
"He did," said Sophy. "It's the most impertinent thing I ever heard. If my father had seen it he'd have had the prince off the box of the coach in no time."
"Then, my dear," said the attorney, "I am very glad that your father did not see it." Poor Dolly, during this conversation about the prince, sat angry and silent, thinking to herself in despair of what extremes of vulgarity even a first cousin of her own could be guilty. That she should be sitting at table with a girl who could boast that a reprobate foreigner had kissed his hand to her from the box of a fashionable four-horsed coach! For it was in that light that Miss Grey regarded it. "And did you have any farther adventures besides this memorable encounter with the prince?"
"Nothing nearly so interesting," said Sophy.
"That was hardly to be expected," said the attorney. "Jane, you will have a glass of port-wine? Girls, you must have a glass of port-wine to support you after your disappointment with the prince."
"We were not disappointed in the least," said Amelia.
"Pray, pray, let the subject drop," said Dolly.
"That is because the prince did not kiss his hand to you," said Sophy. Then Miss Grey sunk again into silence, crushed beneath this last blow.
In the evening, when the dinner-things had been taken away, a matter of business came up, and took the place of the prince and his mustaches. Mrs. Carroll was most anxious to know whether her brother could "lend" her a small sum of twenty pounds. It came out in conversation that the small sum was needed to satisfy some imperious demand made upon Mr. Carroll by a tailor. "He must have clothes, you know," said the poor woman, wailing. "He doesn't have many, but he must have some." There had been other appeals on the same subject made not very long since, and, to tell the truth, Mr. Grey did require to have the subject argued, in fear of the subsequent remarks which would be made to him afterward by his daughter if he gave the money too easily. The loan had to be arranged in full conclave, as otherwise Mrs. Carroll would have found it difficult to obtain access to her brother's ear. But the one auditor whom she feared was her niece. On the present occasion Miss Grey simply took up her book to show that the subject was one which had no interest for her; but she did undoubtedly listen to all that was said on the subject. "There was never anything settled about poor Patrick's clothes," said Mrs. Carroll, in a half-whisper. She did not care how much her own children heard, and she knew how vain it was to attempt so to speak that Dolly should not hear.
"I dare say something ought to be done at some time," said Mr. Grey, who knew that he would be told, when the evening was over, that he would give away all his substance to that man if he were asked.
"Papa has not had a new pair of trousers this year," said Sophy.
"Except those green ones he wore at the races," said Georgina.
"Hold your tongue, miss!" said her mother. "That was a pair I made up for him and sent them to the man to get pressed."
"When the hundred a year was arranged for all our dresses," said Amelia, "not a word was said about papa. Of course, papa is a trouble."
"I don't see that he is more of a trouble than any one else," said Sophy. "Uncle John would not like not to have any clothes."
"No, I should not, my dear."
"And his own income is all given up to the house uses." Here Sophy touched imprudently on a sore subject. His "own" income consisted of what had been saved out of his wife's fortune, and was thus named as in opposition to the larger sum paid to Mrs. Carroll by Mr. Grey. There was one hundred and fifty pounds a year coming from settled property, which had been preserved by the lawyer's care, and which was regarded in the family as "papa's own."
It certainly is essential for respectability that something should be set apart from a man's income for his wearing apparel; and though the money was, perhaps, improperly so designated, Dolly would not have objected had she not thought that it had already gone to the race-course,--in company with the green trousers. She had her own means of obtaining information as to the Carroll family. It was very necessary that she should do so, if the family was to be kept on its legs at all. "I don't think any good can come from discussing what my uncle does with the money." This was Dolly's first speech. "If he is to have it, let him have it, but let him have as little as possible."
"I never heard anybody so cross as you always are to papa," said Sophy.
"Your cousin Dorothy is very fortunate," said Mrs. Carroll. "She does not know what it is to want for anything."
"She never spends anything--on herself," said her father. "It is Dolly's only fault that she won't."
"Because she has it all done for her," said Amelia.
Dolly had gone back to her book, and disdained to make any farther reply. Her father felt that quite enough had been said about it, and was prepared to give the twenty pounds, under the idea that he might be thought to have made a stout fight upon the subject. "He does want them very badly--for decency's sake," said the poor wife, thus winding up her plea. Then Mr. Grey got out his check-book and wrote the check for twenty pounds. But he made it payable, not to Mr. but to Mrs. Carroll.
"I suppose, papa, nothing can be done about Mr. Carroll." This was said by Dolly as soon as the family had withdrawn.
"In what way 'done,' my dear?"
"As to settling some farther sum for himself."
"He'd only spend it, my dear."
"That would be intended," said Dolly.
"And then he would come back just the same."
"But in that case he should have nothing more. Though they were to declare that he hadn't a pair of trousers in which to appear at a race-course, he shouldn't have it."
"My dear," said Mr. Grey, "you cannot get rid of the gnats of the world. They will buzz and sting and be a nuisance. Poor Jane suffers worse from this gnat than you or I. Put up with it; and understand in your own mind that when he comes for another twenty pounds he must have it. You needn't tell him, but so it must be."
"If I had my way," said Dolly, after ten minutes' silence, "I would punish him. He is an evil thing, and should be made to reap the proper reward. It is not that I wish to avoid my share of the world's burdens, but that justice should be done. I don't know which I hate the worst,--Uncle Carroll or Mr. Scarborough."
The next day was Sunday, and Dolly was very anxious before breakfast to induce her father to say that he would go to church with her; but he was inclined to be obstinate, and fell back upon his usual excuse, saying that there were Scarborough papers which it would be necessary that he should read before he started for Tretton on the following day.
"Papa, I think it would do you good if you came."
"Well, yes; I suppose it would. That is the intention; but somehow it fails with me sometimes."
"Do you think that you hate people when you go to church as much as when you don't?"
"I am not sure that I hate anybody very much."
"I do."
"That seems an argument for your going."
"But if you don't hate them it is because you won't take the trouble, and that again is not right. If you would come to church you would be better for it all round. You'd hate Uncle Carroll's idleness and abominable self-indulgence worse than you do."
"I don't love him, as it is, my dear."
"And I should hate him less. I felt last night as though I could rise from my bed and go and murder him."
"Then you certainly ought to go to church."
"And you had passed him off just as though he were a gnat from which you were to receive as little annoyance as possible, forgetting the influence he must have on those six unfortunate children. Don't you know that you gave her that twenty pounds simply to be rid of a disagreeable subject?"
"I should have given it ever so much sooner, only that you were looking at me."
"I know you would, you dear, sweet, kind-hearted, but most un-Christian, father. You must come to church, in order that some idea of what Christianity demands of you may make its way into your heart. It is not what the clergyman may say of you, but that your mind will get away for two hours from that other reptile and his concerns." Then Mr. Grey, with a loud, long sigh, allowed his boots, and his gloves, and his church-going hat, and his church-going umbrella to be brought to him. It was, in fact, his aversion to these articles that Dolly had to encounter.
It may be doubted whether the church services of that day did Mr. Grey much good; but they seemed to have had some effect upon his daughter, from the fact that in the afternoon she wrote a letter in kindly words to her aunt: "Papa is going to Tretton, and I will come up to you on Tuesday. I have got a frock which I will bring with me as a present for Potsey; and I will make her sew on the buttons for herself. Tell Minna I will lend her that book I spoke of. About those boots--I will go with Georgina to the boot-maker." But as to Amelia and Sophy she could not bring herself to say a good-natured word, so deep in her heart had sunk that sin of which they had been guilty with reference to Prince Chitakov.
On that night she had a long discussion with her father respecting the affairs of the Scarborough family. The discussion was held in the dining-room, and may, therefore, be supposed to have been premeditated. Those at night in Mr. Grey's own bedroom were generally the result of sudden thought. "I should lay down the law to him--" began Dolly.
"The law is the law," said her father.
"I don't mean the law in that sense. I should tell him firmly what I advised, and should then make him understand that if he did not follow my advice I must withdraw. If his son is willing to pay these money-lenders what sums they have actually advanced, and if by any effort on his part the money can be raised, let it be done. There seems to be some justice in repaying out of the property that which was lent to the property when by Mr. Scarborough's own doing the property was supposed to go into the eldest son's hands. Though the eldest son and the money-lenders be spendthrifts and profligates alike, there will in that be something of fairness. Go there prepared with your opinion. But if either father or son will not accept it, then depart, and shake the dust from your feet."
"You propose it all as though it were the easiest thing in the world."
"Easy or difficult. I would not discuss anything of which the justice may hereafter be disputed."
What was the result of the consultation on Mr. Grey's mind he did not declare, but he resolved to take his daughter's advice in all that she said to him. _