Books: He Knew He Was Right

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'I dare say we shan't quarrel about the money, Mr Bozzle.'

'Oh dear no. I find I never has any words about the money. But there's
that one question. There's a youg Mr Stanbury has gone down, as knows
all about it. What's he up to?'

'He's my particular friend,' said Trevelyan.

'Oh h. He do know all about it, then?'

'We needn't talk about that, if you please, Mr Bozzle.'

'Because there was words between him and the Colonel upon the platform
and very angry words. The young man went at the Colonel quite
open-mouthed savage-like. It's not the way such things should be done,
Mr Trewillian; and though of course it's not for me to speak she's your
lady still, when you has got a thing of this kind in hand, one head is
better than a dozen. As for myself, Mr Trewillian, I never wouldn't
look at a case not if I knew it unless I was to have it all to myself.
But of course there was no bargain, and so I says nothing.'

After considerable delay the bill was made out on the spot, Mr Bozzle
copying down the figures painfully from his memorandum-book, with his
head much inclined on one side. Trevelyan asked him, almost in despair,
to name the one sum; but this Bozzle declined to do, saying that right
was right. He had a scale of pilfering of his own, to which he had
easily reconciled his conscience; and beyond that he prided himself on
the honesty of his accounts. At last the bill was made out, was paid,
and Bozzle was gone. Trevelyan, when he was alone, threw himself back
on a sofa, and almost wept in despair. To what a depth of degradation
had he not been reduced!

CHAPTER XXIV - NIDDON PARK

As Hugh Stanbury went over to Lessboro', and from thence to Nuncombe
Putney, he thought more of himself and Nora Rowley than he did of Mr
and Mrs Trevelyan. As to Mrs Trevelyan and Colonel Osborne, he felt
that he knew everything that it was necessary that he should know. The
man had been there, and had seen Mrs Trevelyan. Of that there could be
no doubt. That Colonel Osborne had been wickedly indifferent to the
evil consequences of such a visit, and that all the women concerned had
been most foolish in permitting him to make it, was his present
conviction. But he did not for a moment doubt that the visit had in
itself been of all things the most innocent. Trevelyan had sworn that
if his wife received the man at Nuncombe Putney, he would never see her
again. She had seen him, and this oath would be remembered, and there
would be increased difficulties. But these difficulties, whatever they
might be, must be overcome. When he had told himself this, then he
allowed his mind to settle itself on Nora Rowley.

Hitherto he had known Miss Rowley only as a fashionable girl living
with the wife of an intimate friend of his own in London. He had never
been staying. in the same house with her. Circumstances had never given
to him the opportunity of assuming the manner of an intimate friend,
justifying him in giving advice, and authorising him to assume that
semi-paternal tone which is by far the easiest preliminary to
love-making. When a man can tell a young lady what she ought to read,
what she ought to do, and whom she ought to know, nothing can be easier
than to assure her that, of all her duties, her first duty is to prefer
himself to all the world. And any young lady who has consented to
receive lessons from such a teacher, will generally be willing to
receive this special lesson among others. But Stanbury had hitherto had
no such opportunities. In London Miss Rowley had been a fashionable
young lady, living in Mayfair, and he had been well, anything but a
fashionable young man. Nevertheless, he had seen her often, had sat by
her very frequently, was quite sure that he loved her dearly, and had,
perhaps, some self-flattering idea in his mind that had he stuck to his
honourable profession as a barrister, and were he possessed of some
comfortable little fortune of his own, he might, perhaps, have been
able, after due siege operations, to make this charming young woman his
own. Things were quite changed now. For the present, Miss Rowley
certainly could not be regarded as a fashionable London young lady. The
house in which he would see her was, in some sort, his own. He would be
sleeping under the same roof with her, and would have all the
advantages which such a position could give him. He would have no
difficulty now in asking, if he should choose to ask; and he thought
that she might be somewhat softer, somewhat more likely to yield at
Nuncombe Putney, than she would have been in London. She was at
Nuncombe in weak circumstances, to a certain degree friendless; with
none of the excitement of society around her, with no elder sons
buzzing about her and filling her mind, if not her heart, with the
glories of luxurious primogeniture. Hugh Stanbury certainly did not
dream that any special elder son had as yet been so attracted as to
have made. a journey to Nuncombe Putney on Nora's behalf. But should he
on this account because she would be, as. it were, without means of
defence from his attack should he therefore take advantage of her
weakness? She would, of course, go back to her London life after some
short absence, and would again, if free, have her chance among the
favoured ones of the earth. What had he to offer to her? He had taken
the Clock House for his mother, and it would be quite as much as he
could do, when Mrs Trevelyan should have left the village, to keep up
that establishment and maintain himself in London quite as much as he
could do, even though the favours of the 'D. R.' should flow upon him
with their fullest tides. In such circumstances, would it be honourable
in him to ask a girl to love him because he found her defenceless in
his mother's house?

'If there bain't another for Nuncombe,' said Mrs. Clegg's Ostler to Mrs
Clegg's Boots, as Stanbury was driven off in a gig.

'That be young Stanbury, a-going of whome.'

'They be all a-going for the Clock House. Since the old 'ooman took to
thick there house, there be folk a-comin' and a-goin' every day loike.'

'It's along of the madam that they keeps there, Dick,' said the Boots.

'I didn't care if there'd be madams allays. They're the best as is
going for trade anyhow,' said the ostler. What the ostler said was
true. When there comes to be a feeling that a woman's character is in
any way tarnished, there comes another feeling that everybody on the
one side may charge double, and that everybody on the other side must
pay double, for everything. Hugh Stanbury could not understand why he
was charged a shilling a mile, instead of ninepence, for the gig to
Nuncombe Putney. He got no satisfactory answer, and had to pay the
shilling. The truth was, that gigs to Nuncombe Putney had gone up,
since a lady, separated from her husband, with a colonel running after
her, had been taken in at the Clock House.

'Here's Hugh!' said Priscilla, hurrying to the front door. And Mrs
Stanbury hurried after her. Her son Hugh was the apple of her eye, the
best son that ever lived, generous, noble, a thorough man almost a god!

'Dear, dear, oh dear! Who'd have expected it? God bless you, my boy!
Why didn't you write? Priscilla, what is there in the house that he can
eat?'

'Plenty of bread and cheese,' said Priscilla, laughing, with her hand
inside her brother's arm. For though Priscilla hated all other men, she
did not hate her brother Hugh. 'If you wanted things nice to eat
directly you got here, you ought to have written.'

'I shall want my dinner, like any other Christian in due time,' said
Hugh. 'And how is Mrs Trevelyan and how is Miss Rowley?'

He soon found himself in company with those two ladies, and experienced
some immediate difficulty in explaining the cause of his sudden coming.
But this was soon put aside by Mrs Trevelyan.

'When did you see my husband?' she asked.

'I saw him yesterday. He was quite well.'

'Colonel Osborne has been here,' she said.

'I know that he has been here. I met him at the station at Exeter.
Perhaps I should not say so, but I wish he had remained away.'

'We all wish it,' said Priscilla.

Then Nora spoke. 'But what could we do, Mr Stanbury? It seemed so
natural that he should call when he was in the neighbourhood. We have
known him so long; and how could we refuse to see him?'

'I will not let any one think that I'm afraid to see any man on earth,'
said Mrs Trevelyan. 'If he had ever in his life said a word that he
should not have said, a word that would have been an insult, of course
it would have been different. But the notion of it is preposterous. Why
should I not have seen him?'

'I think he was wrong to come,' said Hugh.

'Of course he was wrong wickedly wrong,' said Priscilla.

Stanbury, finding that the subject was openly discussed between them,
declared plainly the mission that had brought him to Nuncombe.
'Trevelyan heard that he was coming, and asked me to let him know the
truth,'

'Now you can tell him the truth,' said Mrs Trevelyan, with something of
indignation in her tone, as though she thought that Stanbury had taken
upon himself a task of which he ought to be ashamed.

'But Colonel Osborne came specially to pay a visit to Cockchaffington,'
said Nora, 'and not to see us. Louis ought to know that.'

'Nora, how can you demean yourself to care about such trash?' said Mrs
Trevelyan. 'Who cares why he came here? His visit to me was a thing of
course. If Mr Trevelyan disapproves of it, let him say so, and not send
secret messengers.'

'Am I a secret messenger?' said Hugh Stanbury.

'There has been a man here, inquiring of the servants,' said Priscilla.
So that odious Bozzle had made his foul mission known to them!
Stanbury, however, thought it best to say nothing of Bozzle not to
acknowledge that he had ever heard of Bozzle. 'I am sure Mrs Trevelyan
does not mean you,' said Priscilla.

'I do not know what I mean,' said Mrs Trevelyan.

'I am so harassed and fevered by these suspicions that I am driven
nearly mad.' Then she left the room for a minute and returned with two
letters. 'There, Mr Stanbury; I got that note from Colonel Osborne, and
wrote to him that reply. You know all about it now. Can you say that I
was wrong to see him?'

'I am sure that he was wrong to come,' said Hugh.

'Wickedly wrong,' said Priscilla, again.

'You can keep the letters, and show, them to my husband,' said Mrs
Trevelyan; 'then he will know all about it.' But Stanbury declined to
keep the letters.

He was to remain the Sunday at Nuncombe Putney and return to London on
the Monday. There was, therefore, but one day on which he could say
what he I had to say to Nora Rowley. When he came down to breakfast on
the Sunday morning he had almost made up his mind that he had nothing
to say to her. As for Nora, she was in a state of mind much less near
to any fixed purpose. She had told, herself that she loved this man had
indeed done so in the clearest way, by acknowledging the fact of her
love, to another suitor, by pleading to that other suitor the fact of
her love as an insuperable reason why he should be rejected. There was
no longer any doubt about it to her. When Priscilla had declared that
Hugh Stanbury was at the door, her heart had gone into her mouth.
Involuntarily she had pressed her hands to her sides, and had held her
breath. Why had he come there? Had he come there for, her? Oh! if he
had come there for her, and if she might dare to forget all the future,
how sweet sweetest of all things in heaven or earth might be an August
evening with him among the lanes! But she, too, had endeavoured to be
very prudent. She had told herself that she was quite unfit to be the
wife of a poor man that she would be only a burden round his neck, and
not an aid to him. And in so telling herself, she had told herself also
that she had been a fool not to accept Mr Glascock. She should have
dragged out from her heart the image of this man who had never even
whispered a word of love in her ears, and should have constrained
herself to receive with affection a man in loving whom there ought to
be no difficulty. But when she had been repeating those lessons to
herself, Hugh Stanbury had not been in the house. Now he was there and
what must be her answer if he should whisper that word of love? She had
an idea that it would be treason in her to disown the love she felt, if
questioned concerning her heart by the man to whom it had been given.

They all went to church on the Sunday morning, and up to that time Nora
had not been a moment alone with the man. It had been decided that they
should dine early, and then ramble out, when the evening would be less
hot than the. day had been, to a spot called Niddon Park. This was
nearly three miles from Nuncombe, and was a beautiful wild slope of
ground full of ancient, blighted, blasted, but still half-living oaks
oaks that still brought forth leaves overlooking a bend of the river
Teign. Park, in the usual sense of the word, there was none, nor did
they who lived round Nuncombe Putney know whether Niddon Park had ever
been enclosed. But of all the spots in that lovely neighbourhood,
Priscilla Stanbury swore that it was the loveliest; and, as it had
never yet been seen by Mrs Trevelyan or her sister, it was determined
that they would walk there on this August afternoon. There were four of
them and as was natural, they fell into parties of two and two. But
Priscilla walked with Nora, and Hugh Stanbury walked with his friend's
wife. Nora was talkative, but demure in her manner, and speaking now
and again as though she were giving words and not thoughts. She felt
that there was something to hide, and was suffering from disappointment
that their party should not have been, otherwise divided. Had Hugh
spoken to her and asked her to be his wife, she could not have accepted
him, because she knew that they were both poor, and that she was not
fit to keep a poor man's house. She had declared to herself most
plainly that that must be her course but yet she was disappointed, and
talked in the knowledge that she had something to conceal.

When they were seated beneath an old riven, withered oak, looking down
upon the river, they were still divided in the same way. In seating
herself she had been very anxious not to disarrange that arrangement
almost equally anxious not to seem to adhere to it with any special
purpose. She was very careful that there should be nothing seen in her
manner that was in any way special but in the meantime she was
suffering an agony of trouble. He did not care for her in the least.
She was becoming sure of that. She had given all her love to a man who
had none to give her in return. As she thought of this she almost
longed for the offer of that which she knew she could not have accepted
had it been offered to her. But she talked on about the scenery, about
the weather descanting on the pleasure of living where such loveliness
was within reach. Then there came a pause for a moment. 'Nora' said
Priscilla, 'I do not know what you are thinking about, but it is not of
the beauty of Niddon Park. Then there came a faint sound as of an
hysterical sob, and then a gurgle in the throat, and then a pretence
at laughter.

'I don't believe I am thinking of anything at all' said Nora.

After which Hugh insisted on descending to the bank of the river, but,
as the necessity of re-climbing the slope was quite manifest, none of
the girls would go with him. 'Come, Miss Rowley' said he, 'will you not
show them that a lady can go up and down a hill as well as a man?'

'I had rather not go up and down the hill' said she.

Then he understood that she was angry with him; and in some sort
surmised the cause of her anger. Not that he believed that she loved
him; but it seemed possible to him that she resented the absence of his
attention. He went down, and scrambled out on the rocks into the bed of
the river, while the girls above looked down upon him, watching the
leaps that he made. Priscilla and. Mrs Trevelyan called to him, bidding
him beware; but Nora called not at all. He was whistling as he made his
jumps, but still he heard their voices, and knew that he did not hear
Nora's voice. He poised himself on the edge of a rock in the middle of
the stream, and looked up the river and down the river, turning himself
carefully on his narrow foothold; but he was thinking only of Nora.
Could there be anything nobler than to struggle on with her, if she
only would be willing? But then she was young; and should she yield to
such a request from him, she would not know what she was yielding. He
turned again, jumping from rock to rock till he reached the bank, and
then made his way again up to the withered oak.

'You would not have repented it if you had come down with me' he said
to Nora.

'I am not so sure of that' she answered.

When they started to return she stepped on gallantly with Priscilla;
but Priscilla was stopped by some chance, having some word. to say to
her brother, having some other word to say to Mrs Trevelyan. Could it
be that her austerity had been softened, and that in kindness they
contrived that Nora should be left some yards behind them with her
brother? Whether it were kindness, or an unkind error, so it was. Nora,
when she perceived what destiny was doing for her, would not interfere
with destiny. If he chose to speak to her she would hear him and would
answer him. She knew very well what answer he would give him. She had
her answer quite ready at her fingers' ends. There was no doubt about
her answer.

They had walked half a mile together and he had spoken of nothing but
the scenery. She had endeavoured to appear to be excited. Oh, yes, the
scenery of Devonshire was delightful. She hardly wanted anything more
to make her happy. If only this misery respecting her sister could
be set right!

'And you, you yourself' said he, 'do you mean that there is nothing you
want in leaving London?'

'Not much, indeed.'

'It sometimes seemed to me that that kind of life was was very pleasant
to you.'

'What kind of life, Mr Stanbury?'

'The life that you were living going out, being admired, and having the
rich and dainty all around you.'

'I don't dislike people because they are rich' she said.

'No; nor do I; and I despise those who affect to dislike them. But all
cannot be rich.'

'Nor all dainty, as you choose to call them.'

'But they who have once been dainty as I call them never like to divest
themselves of their daintiness. You have been one of the dainty, Miss
Rowley.'

'Have I?'

'Certainly; I doubt whether you would be happy if you thought that your
daintiness had departed from you.'

'I hope, Mr Stanbury, that nothing nice and pleasant has departed from
me. If I have ever been dainty, dainty I hope. I may remain. I will
never, at, any rate, give it up of my own accord'. Why she said this,
she could never explain to herself. She had certainly not intended to
rebuff him when she had been saying it. But he spoke not a. word to her
further as they walked home, either of her mode of life or of his own.

CHAPTER XXV - HUGH STANBURY SMOKES HIS PIPE

Nora Rowley, when she went to bed, after her walk to Niddon Park in
company with Hugh Stanbury, was full of wrath against, him. But she
could not own her anger to herself, nor could she even confess to
herself though she was breaking her heart that there really existed for
her the slightest cause of grief. But why had he been so stern to her?
Why had he gone out of his way to be uncivil to her? He had called her
'dainty' meaning to imply by the epithet that she was one of the
butterflies of the day, caring for nothing but sunshine, and an
opportunity of fluttering her silly wings. She had understood well what
he meant. Of course he was right to be cold to her if his heart was
cold, but he need not have insulted her by his ill-concealed rebukes.
Had he been kind to her, he might have rebuked her as much as he liked.
She quite appreciated the delightful intimacy of a loving word of
counsel from the, man she loved how nice it is, as it were, to play at
marriage, and to hear beforehand something of the pleasant weight of
gentle marital authority. But there had been nothing of that in his
manner to her. He had told her that she was dainty and had so told it
her, as she thought, that she might, learn thereby, that under no
circumstances would he have any other tale to tell her. If he had no
other tale, why had he not been silent? Did he think that she was
subject to his rebuke merely because she lived under his mother's roof?
She would soon shew him that her residence at the Clock House gave him
no such authority over her. Then amidst her wrath and despair, she
cried herself asleep.

While she was sobbing in bed, he was sitting, with a, short, black pipe
stuck into his mouth, on the corner of the churchyard wall opposite.
Before he had left the house he and Priscilla had spoken together for
some minutes about Mrs Trevelyan. 'Of course she was wrong to see him'
said Priscilla. 'I hesitate to wound, her by so saying, because she has
been ill-used though I did tell her so, when she asked me. She could
have lost nothing by declining his visit.'

'The worst of it is that Trevelyan swears, that he will never receive
her again if she received him.'

'He must unswear it' said Priscilla, 'that is all. It is out of the
question that a man should take a girl from her home, and make her his
wife, and then throw her off for so little of an offence as this. She
might compel him by law to take her back'

'What would she get by that?'

'Little enough' said Priscilla; 'and it was little enough she, got by
marrying him. She would have had bread, and meat, and raiment without
being married, I suppose.'

'But it was a love-match.'

'Yes and now she is at Nuncombe Putney, and he is roaming about in
London. He has to pay ever so much a year for his love-match, and she
is crushed into nothing by it. How long will she have to remain here,
Hugh?'

'How can I say? I suppose there is no reason against her remaining as
far as you are concerned?'

'For me personally, none. Were she much worse than I think she is, I
should not care in the least for myself, if I thought that we were
doing her good helping to bring her back. She can't hurt me. I am so
fixed, and dry, and established that nothing anybody says will affect
me. But mamma doesn't like it.'

'What is it she dislikes?'

'The idea that she is harbouring a married woman, of whom people say,
at least, that she has a lover.'

'Is she to be turned out because people are slanderers?'

'Why should mamma suffer because this woman, who is a stranger to her,
has been imprudent? If she were your wife, Hugh--'

'God forbid!'

'If we were in any way bound to her, of course we would do our duty.
But if it makes mamma unhappy I am sure you will not press it. I think
Mrs Merton has spoken to her. And then Aunt Stanbury has written such
letters!'

'Who cares for Aunt Jemima?'

'Everybody cares for her except you and I. And now this man who has
been here asking the servant. questions has upset her greatly. Even
your coming has done so, knowing, as she does, that you have come, not
to see us, but to make inquiries about Mrs Trevelyan. She is so annoyed
by it, that she does not sleep.

'Do you wish her to be taken away at once?' asked Hugh almost in an
angry tone.

'Certainly not. That would be impossible. We have agreed to take her,
and must bear with it. And I would not have her moved from this, if I
thought that if she stayed awhile it might be arranged that she might
return from us direct to her husband.'

'I shall try that, of course now.'

'But if he will not have her if he be so obstinate, so foolish, and so
wicked, do not leave her here longer than you can help. Then Hugh
explained that Sir Marmaduke and Lady Rowley were to be in England in,
the spring, and that it would be very desirable that the poor woman
should not be sent abroad to look for a home before that. 'If it must
be so, it must' said Priscilla. 'But eight months is a long time.'

Hugh went out to smoke his pipe on the church-wall in a moody, unhappy
state of mind. He had hoped to have done so well in regard to Mrs
Trevelyan. Till he had met Colonel Osborne, he felt sure, almost sure,
that she would have refused to see that pernicious trouble of the peace
of families. In this he. found that he had been disappointed; but he
had not expected that Priscilla would have been so much opposed to the
arrangement which he had made about the house, and then he had been
buoyed up by the anticipation of some delight in meeting Nora Rowley.
There was, at any rate, the excitement of seeing her to, keep his
spirits from flagging. He had seen her, and had had the opportunity of
which he had so long been thinking. He had seen her and had had every
possible advantage on his side. What could any man desire better than
the privilege of walking home with the girl he loved through country
lanes of a summer evening? They had been an hour together or might have
been, had lie chosen to prolong, the interview. But the words which had
been spoken between them had had not the slightest interest unless it
were that they had tended to make the interval between him and her
wider than ever. He had asked her he thought that he had asked whether
it would grieve her to abandon that delicate, dainty mode of life to
which she had been accustomed; and she had replied that she would never
abandon it of her own accord. Of course she had intended him to take
her at her word.