"Give up your keys, you hardened hussy," hissed out
the virtuous little lady in the calash.
"And here's a candle, Mum, and if you please, Mum,
I can show you her room, Mum, and the press in the
housekeeper's room, Mum, where she keeps heaps and
heaps of things, Mum," cried out the eager little Hester
with a profusion of curtseys.
"Hold your tongue, if you please. I know the room
which the creature occupies perfectly well. Mrs. Brown,
have the goodness to come with me, and Beddoes don't
you lose sight of that woman," said Mrs. Bute, seizing the
candle. "Mr. Crawley, you had better go upstairs and
see that they are not murdering your unfortunate brother"
--and the calash, escorted by Mrs. Brown, walked away
to the apartment which, as she said truly, she knew
perfectly well.
Bute went upstairs and found the Doctor from
Mudbury, with the frightened Horrocks over his master in a
chair. They were trying to bleed Sir Pitt Crawley.
With the early morning an express was sent off to Mr.
Pitt Crawley by the Rector's lady, who assumed the
command of everything, and had watched the old Baronet
through the night. He had been brought back to a sort of
life; he could not speak, but seemed to recognize people.
Mrs. Bute kept resolutely by his bedside. She never seemed
to want to sleep, that little woman, and did not close her
fiery black eyes once, though the Doctor snored in the
arm-chair. Horrocks made some wild efforts to assert
his authority and assist his master; but Mrs. Bute called
him a tipsy old wretch and bade him never show his face
again in that house, or he should be transported like his
abominable daughter.
Terrified by her manner, he slunk down to the oak
parlour where Mr. James was, who, having tried the
bottle standing there and found no liquor in it, ordered
Mr. Horrocks to get another bottle of rum, which he
fetched, with clean glasses, and to which the Rector and
his son sat down, ordering Horrocks to put down the keys
at that instant and never to show his face again.
Cowed by this behaviour, Horrocks gave up the keys,
and he and his daughter slunk off silently through the
night and gave up possession of the house of Queen's
Crawley.
CHAPTER XL
In Which Becky Is Recognized by the Family
The heir of Crawley arrived at home, in due time, after
this catastrophe, and henceforth may be said to have
reigned in Queen's Crawley. For though the old Baronet
survived many months, he never recovered the use of
his intellect or his speech completely, and the government
of the estate devolved upon his elder son. In a
strange condition Pitt found it. Sir Pitt was always buying
and mortgaging; he had twenty men of business, and
quarrels with each; quarrels with all his tenants, and
lawsuits with them; lawsuits with the lawyers; lawsuits
with the Mining and Dock Companies in which he was
proprietor; and with every person with whom he had
business. To unravel these difficulties and to set the
estate clear was a task worthy of the orderly and
persevering diplomatist of Pumpernickel, and he set
himself to work with prodigious assiduity. His whole family,
of course, was transported to Queen's Crawley, whither
Lady Southdown, of course, came too; and she set about
converting the parish under the Rector's nose, and
brought down her irregular clergy to the dismay of the
angry Mrs Bute. Sir Pitt had concluded no bargain for
the sale of the living of Queen's Crawley; when it should
drop, her Ladyship proposed to take the patronage into
her own hands and present a young protege to the
Rectory, on which subject the diplomatic Pitt said
nothing.
Mrs. Bute's intentions with regard to Miss Betsy
Horrocks were not carried into effect, and she paid no visit
to Southampton Gaol. She and her father left the Hall
when the latter took possession of the Crawley Arms in
the village, of which he had got a lease from Sir Pitt.
The ex-butler had obtained a small freehold there
likewise, which gave him a vote for the borough. The Rector
had another of these votes, and these and four others
formed the representative body which returned the two
members for Queen's Crawley.
There was a show of courtesy kept up between the
Rectory and the Hall ladies, between the younger ones at
least, for Mrs. Bute and Lady Southdown never could
meet without battles, and gradually ceased seeing each
other. Her Ladyship kept her room when the ladies from
the Rectory visited their cousins at the Hall. Perhaps Mr.
Pitt was not very much displeased at these occasional
absences of his mamma-in-law. He believed the Binkie
family to be the greatest and wisest and most interesting
in the world, and her Ladyship and his aunt had long held
ascendency over him; but sometimes he felt that she
commanded him too much. To be considered young was
complimentary, doubtless, but at six-and-forty to be
treated as a boy was sometimes mortifying. Lady Jane
yielded up everything, however, to her mother. She was
only fond of her children in private, and it was lucky
for her that Lady Southdown's multifarious business, her
conferences with ministers, and her correspondence with
all the missionaries of Africa, Asia, aud Australasia, &c.,
occupied the venerable Countess a great deal, so that
she had but little time to devote to her granddaughter,
the little Matilda, and her grandson, Master Pitt Crawley.
The latter was a feeble child, and it was only by
prodigious quantities of calomel that Lady Southdown was
able to keep him in life at all.
As for Sir Pitt he retired into those very apartments
where Lady Crawley had been previously extinguished,
and here was tended by Miss Hester, the girl upon her
promotion, with constant care and assiduity. What love,
what fidelity, what constancy is there equal to that of a
nurse with good wages? They smooth pillows; and make
arrowroot; they get up at nights; they bear complaints
and querulousness; they see the sun shining out of doors
and don't want to go abroad; they sleep on arm-chairs
and eat their meals in solitude; they pass long long
evenings doing nothing, watching the embers, and the
patient's drink simmering in the jug; they read the weekly
paper the whole week through; and Law's Serious Call or
the Whole Duty of Man suffices them for literature for
the year--and we quarrel with them because, when their
relations come to see them once a week, a little gin
is smuggled in in their linen basket. Ladies, what man's
love is there that would stand a year's nursing of the
object of his affection? Whereas a nurse will stand by you
for ten pounds a quarter, and we think her too highly
paid. At least Mr. Crawley grumbled a good deal about
paying half as much to Miss Hester for her constant
attendance upon the Baronet his father.
Of sunshiny days this old gentleman was taken out in a
chair on the terrace--the very chair which Miss Crawley
had had at Brighton, and which had been transported
thence with a number of Lady Southdown's effects to
Queen's Crawley. Lady Jane always walked by the old
man, and was an evident favourite with him. He used to
nod many times to her and smile when she came in, and
utter inarticulate deprecatory moans when she was going
away. When the door shut upon her he would cry and
sob--whereupon Hester's face and manner, which was
always exceedingly bland and gentle while her lady was
present, would change at once, and she would make faces
at him and clench her fist and scream out "Hold your
tongue, you stoopid old fool," and twirl away his chair
from the fire which he loved to look at--at which he
would cry more. For this was all that was left after more
than seventy years of cunning, and struggling, and
drinking, and scheming, and sin and selfishness--a
whimpering old idiot put in and out of bed and cleaned
and fed like a baby.
At last a day came when the nurse's occupation was
over. Early one morning, as Pitt Crawley was at his
steward's and bailiff's books in the study, a knock came
to the door, and Hester presented herself, dropping a
curtsey, and said,
"If you please, Sir Pitt, Sir Pitt died this morning, Sir
Pitt. I was a-making of his toast, Sir Pitt, for his gruel,
Sir Pitt, which he took every morning regular at six, Sir
Pitt, and--I thought I heard a moan-like, Sir Pitt--and--
and--and--" She dropped another curtsey.
What was it that made Pitt's pale face flush quite
red? Was it because he was Sir Pitt at last, with a seat
in Parliament, and perhaps future honours in prospect?
"I'll clear the estate now with the ready money," he
thought and rapidly calculated its incumbrances and the
improvements which he would make. He would not use his
aunt's money previously lest Sir Pitt should recover and
his outlay be in vain.
All the blinds were pulled down at the Hall and Rectory:
the church bell was tolled, and the chancel hung in
black; and Bute Crawley didn't go to a coursing meeting,
but went and dined quietly at Fuddleston, where
they talked about his deceased brother and young Sir
Pitt over their port. Miss Betsy, who was by this time
married to a saddler at Mudbury, cried a good deal.
The family surgeon rode over and paid his respectful
compliments, and inquiries for the health of their
ladyships. The death was talked about at Mudbury and at
the Crawley Arms, the landlord whereof had become
reconciled with the Rector of late, who was occasionally
known to step into the parlour and taste Mr. Horrocks'
mild beer.
"Shall I write to your brother--or will you?" asked
Lady Jane of her husband, Sir Pitt.
"I will write, of course," Sir Pitt said, "and invite him
to the funeral: it will be but becoming."
"And--and--Mrs. Rawdon," said Lady Jane timidly.
"Jane!" said Lady Southdown, "how can you think of
such a thing?"
"Mrs. Rawdon must of course be asked," said Sir Pitt,
resolutely.
"Not whilst I am in the house!" said Lady Southdown.
"Your Ladyship will be pleased to recollect that I am
the head of this family," Sir Pitt replied. "If you please,
Lady Jane, you will write a letter to Mrs. Rawdon
Crawley, requesting her presence upon this melancholy
occasion."
"Jane, I forbid you to put pen to paper!" cried the
Countess.
"I believe I am the head of this family," Sir Pitt
repeated; "and however much I may regret any
circumstance which may lead to your Ladyship quitting this
house, must, if you please, continue to govern it as I see
fit."
Lady Southdown rose up as magnificent as Mrs. Siddons
in Lady Macbeth and ordered that horses might be put
to her carriage. If her son and daughter turned her out
of their house, she would hide her sorrows somewhere in
loneliness and pray for their conversion to better
thoughts.
"We don't turn you out of our house, Mamma," said
the timid Lady Jane imploringly.
"You invite such company to it as no Christian lady
should meet, and I will have my horses to-morrow
morning."
"Have the goodness to write, Jane, under my dictation,"
said Sir Pitt, rising and throwing himself into an attitude
of command, like the portrait of a Gentleman in the
Exhibition, "and begin. 'Queen's Crawley, September 14,
1822.--My dear brother--' "
Hearing these decisive and terrible words, Lady Macbeth,
who had been waiting for a sign of weakness or
vacillation on the part of her son-in-law, rose and, with a
scared look, left the library. Lady Jane looked up to
her husband as if she would fain follow and soothe her
mamma, but Pitt forbade his wife to move.
"She won't go away," he said. "She has let her house
at Brighton and has spent her last half-year's dividends.
A Countess living at an inn is a ruined woman. I have
been waiting long for an opportunity--to take this--this
decisive step, my love; for, as you must perceive, it is
impossible that there should be two chiefs in a family:
and now, if you please, we will resume the dictation. 'My
dear brother, the melancholy intelligence which it is my
duty to convey to my family must have been long
anticipated by,' " &c.
In a word, Pitt having come to his kingdom, and having
by good luck, or desert rather, as he considered, assumed
almost all the fortune which his other relatives
had expected, was determined to treat his family kindly
and respectably and make a house of Queen's Crawley
once more. It pleased him to think that he should be its
chief. He proposed to use the vast influence that his
commanding talents and position must speedily acquire
for him in the county to get his brother placed and his
cousins decently provided for, and perhaps had a little
sting of repentance as he thought that he was the
proprietor of all that they had hoped for. In the course of
three or four days' reign his bearing was changed and
his plans quite fixed: he determined to rule justly and
honestly, to depose Lady Southdown, and to be on the
friendliest possible terms with all the relations of his
blood.
So he dictated a letter to his brother Rawdon--a solemn
and elaborate letter, containing the profoundest
observations, couched in the longest words, and filling with
wonder the simple little secretary, who wrote under her
husband's order. "What an orator this will be," thought
she, "when he enters the House of Commons" (on which
point, and on the tyranny of Lady Southdown, Pitt had
sometimes dropped hints to his wife in bed); "how wise
and good, and what a genius my husband is! I fancied
him a little cold; but how good, and what a genius!"
