"I do wish Brooke would leave that off," said Sir James, with his littlefrown of annoyance.
"Is he really going to be put in nomination, though?" said Mr.Cadwallader. "I saw Farebrother yesterday—he's Whiggish himself, hoistsBrougham and Useful Knowledge; that's the worst I know of him;—andhe says that Brooke is getting up a pretty strong party. Bulstrode, thebanker, is his foremost man. But he thinks Brooke would come off badlyat a nomination."
"Exactly," said Sir James, with earnestness. "I have been inquiringinto the thing, for I've never known anything about Middlemarch politicsbefore—the county being my business. What Brooke trusts to, is thatthey are going to turn out Oliver because he is a Peelite. But Hawley tellsme that if they send up a Whig at all it is sure to be Bagster, one of thosecandidates who come from heaven knows where, but dead againstMinisters, and an experienced Parliamentary man. Hawley's ratherrough: he forgot that he was speaking to me. He said if Brooke wanted apelting, he could get it cheaper than by going to the hustings."
"I warned you all of it," said Mrs. Cadwallader, waving her handsoutward. "I said to Humphrey long ago, Mr. Brooke is going to make asplash in the mud. And now he has done it."
"Well, he might have taken it into his head to marry," said theRector. "That would have been a graver mess than a little flirtation withpolitics."
"He may do that afterwards," said Mrs. Cadwallader—"when he hascome out on the other side of the mud with an ague."
"What I care for most is his own dignity," said Sir James. "Of course Icare the more because of the family. But he's getting on in life now, and Idon't like to think of his exposing himself. They will be raking upeverything against him."
"I suppose it's no use trying any persuasion," said the Rector. "There'ssuch an odd mixture of obstinacy and changeableness in Brooke. Haveyou tried him on the subject?"
"Well, no," said Sir James; "I feel a delicacy in appearing to dictate.But I have been talking to this young Ladislaw that Brooke is making afactotum of. Ladislaw seems clever enough for anything. I thought it aswell to hear what he had to say; and he is against Brooke's standing thistime. I think he'll turn him round: I think the nomination may be stavedoff."
"I know," said Mrs. Cadwallader, nodding. "The independent memberhasn't got his speeches well enough by heart."
"But this Ladislaw—there again is a vexatious business," said SirJames. "We have had him two or three times to dine at the Hall (youhave met him, by the bye) as Brooke's guest and a relation of Casaubon's,thinking he was only on a flying visit. And now I find he's in everybody'smouth in Middlemarch as the editor of the 'Pioneer.' There are storiesgoing about him as a quill-driving alien, a foreign emissary, and whatnot."
"Casaubon won't like that," said the Rector.
"There is some foreign blood in Ladislaw," returned Sir James. "I hopehe won't go into extreme opinions and carry Brooke on."
"Oh, he's a dangerous young sprig, that Mr. Ladislaw," said Mrs.Cadwallader, "with his opera songs and his ready tongue. A sort ofByronic hero—an amorous conspirator, it strikes me. And ThomasAquinas is not fond of him. I could see that, the day the picture wasbrought."
"I don't like to begin on the subject with Casaubon," said Sir James."He has more right to interfere than I. But it's a disagreeable affair allround. What a character for anybody with decent connections to showhimself in!—one of those newspaper fellows! You have only to look atKeck, who manages the 'Trumpet.' I saw him the other day with Hawley.His writing is sound enough, I believe, but he's such a low fellow, that Iwished he had been on the wrong side."
"What can you expect with these peddling Middlemarch papers?"said the Rector. "I don't suppose you could get a high style of mananywhere to be writing up interests he doesn't really care about, and forpay that hardly keeps him in at elbows."
"Exactly: that makes it so annoying that Brooke should have put aman who has a sort of connection with the family in a position of thatkind. For my part, I think Ladislaw is rather a fool for accepting."
"It is Aquinas's fault," said Mrs. Cadwallader. "Why didn't he use hisinterest to get Ladislaw made an attache or sent to India? That is howfamilies get rid of troublesome sprigs."
"There is no knowing to what lengths the mischief may go," said SirJames, anxiously. "But if Casaubon says nothing, what can I do?"
"Oh my dear Sir James," said the Rector, "don't let us make too muchof all this. It is likely enough to end in mere smoke. After a month or twoBrooke and this Master Ladislaw will get tired of each other; Ladislawwill take wing; Brooke will sell the 'Pioneer,' and everything will settledown again as usual."
"There is one good chance—that he will not like to feel his moneyoozing away," said Mrs. Cadwallader. "If I knew the items of electionexpenses I could scare him. It's no use plying him with wide words likeExpenditure: I wouldn't talk of phlebotomy, I would empty a pot ofleeches upon him. What we good stingy people don't like, is having oursixpences sucked away from us."
"And he will not like having things raked up against him," said SirJames. "There is the management of his estate. They have begun uponthat already. And it really is painful for me to see. It is a nuisance underone's very nose. I do think one is bound to do the best for one's land andtenants, especially in these hard times."
"Perhaps the 'Trumpet' may rouse him to make a change, and somegood may come of it all," said the Rector. "I know I should be glad. Ishould hear less grumbling when my tithe is paid. I don't know what Ishould do if there were not a modus in Tipton."
"I want him to have a proper man to look after things—I want him totake on Garth again," said Sir James. "He got rid of Garth twelve yearsago, and everything has been going wrong since. I think of getting Garthto manage for me—he has made such a capital plan for my buildings;and Lovegood is hardly up to the mark. But Garth would not undertakethe Tipton estate again unless Brooke left it entirely to him."
"In the right of it too," said the Rector. "Garth is an independentfellow: an original, simple-minded fellow. One day, when he was doingsome valuation for me, he told me point-blank that clergymen seldomunderstood anything about business, and did mischief when theymeddled; but he said it as quietly and respectfully as if he had beentalking to me about sailors. He would make a different parish of Tipton,if Brooke would let him manage. I wish, by the help of the 'Trumpet,' youcould bring that round."
"If Dorothea had kept near her uncle, there would have been somechance," said Sir James. "She might have got some power over him intime, and she was always uneasy about the estate. She had wonderfullygood notions about such things. But now Casaubon takes her up entirely.Celia complains a good deal. We can hardly get her to dine with us, sincehe had that fit." Sir James ended with a look of pitying disgust, and Mrs.Cadwallader shrugged her shoulders as much as to say that she was notlikely to see anything new in that direction.
"Poor Casaubon!" the Rector said. "That was a nasty attack. I thoughthe looked shattered the other day at the Archdeacon's."
"In point of fact," resumed Sir James, not choosing to dwell on "fits,""Brooke doesn't mean badly by his tenants or any one else, but he hasgot that way of paring and clipping at expenses."
"Come, that's a blessing," said Mrs. Cadwallader. "That helps him tofind himself in a morning. He may not know his own opinions, but hedoes know his own pocket."
"I don't believe a man is in pocket by stinginess on his land," said SirJames.
"Oh, stinginess may be abused like other virtues: it will not do tokeep one's own pigs lean," said Mrs. Cadwallader, who had risen to lookout of the window. "But talk of an independent politician and he willappear."
"What! Brooke?" said her husband.
"Yes. Now, you ply him with the 'Trumpet,' Humphrey; and I will putthe leeches on him. What will you do, Sir James?"
"The fact is, I don't like to begin about it with Brooke, in our mutualposition; the whole thing is so unpleasant. I do wish people wouldbehave like gentlemen," said the good baronet, feeling that this was asimple and comprehensive programme for social well-being.
"Here you all are, eh?" said Mr. Brooke, shuffling round and shakinghands. "I was going up to the Hall by-and-by, Chettam. But it's pleasantto find everybody, you know. Well, what do you think of things?—goingon a little fast! It was true enough, what Lafitte said—'Since yesterday, acentury has passed away:'—they're in the next century, you know, on theother side of the water. Going on faster than we are."
"Why, yes," said the Rector, taking up the newspaper. "Here is the'Trumpet' accusing you of lagging behind—did you see?"
"Eh? no," said Mr. Brooke, dropping his gloves into his hat andhastily adjusting his eye-glass. But Mr. Cadwallader kept the paper in hishand, saying, with a smile in his eyes—
"Look here! all this is about a landlord not a hundred miles fromMiddlemarch, who receives his own rents. They say he is the mostretrogressive man in the county. I think you must have taught them thatword in the 'Pioneer.'"
"Oh, that is Keek—an illiterate fellow, you know. Retrogressive, now!Come, that's capital. He thinks it means destructive: they want to makeme out a destructive, you know," said Mr. Brooke, with that cheerfulnesswhich is usually sustained by an adversary's ignorance.
"I think he knows the meaning of the word. Here is a sharp stroke ortwo. If we had to describe a man who is retrogressive in the most evilsense of the word—we should say, he is one who would dub himself areformer of our constitution, while every interest for which he isimmediately responsible is going to decay: a philanthropist who cannotbear one rogue to be hanged, but does not mind five honest tenantsbeing half-starved: a man who shrieks at corruption, and keeps his farmsat rack-rent: who roars himself red at rotten boroughs, and does notmind if every field on his farms has a rotten gate: a man very open-hearted to Leeds and Manchester, no doubt; he would give any numberof representatives who will pay for their seats out of their own pockets:what he objects to giving, is a little return on rent-days to help a tenantto buy stock, or an outlay on repairs to keep the weather out at atenant's barn-door or make his house look a little less like an Irishcottier's. But we all know the wag's definition of a philanthropist: a manwhose charity increases directly as the square of the distance. And so on.All the rest is to show what sort of legislator a philanthropist is likely tomake," ended the Rector, throwing down the paper, and clasping hishands at the back of his head, while he looked at Mr. Brooke with an airof amused neutrality.
"Come, that's rather good, you know," said Mr. Brooke, taking up thepaper and trying to bear the attack as easily as his neighbor did, butcoloring and smiling rather nervously; "that about roaring himself red atrotten boroughs—I never made a speech about rotten boroughs in mylife. And as to roaring myself red and that kind of thing—these mennever understand what is good satire. Satire, you know, should be trueup to a certain point. I recollect they said that in 'The Edinburgh'somewhere—it must be true up to a certain point."
"Well, that is really a hit about the gates," said Sir James, anxious totread carefully. "Dagley complained to me the other day that he hadn'tgot a decent gate on his farm. Garth has invented a new pattern ofgate—I wish you would try it. One ought to use some of one's timber inthat way."
"You go in for fancy farming, you know, Chettam," said Mr. Brooke,appearing to glance over the columns of the "Trumpet." "That's yourhobby, and you don't mind the expense."
"I thought the most expensive hobby in the world was standing forParliament," said Mrs. Cadwallader. "They said the last unsuccessfulcandidate at Middlemarch—Giles, wasn't his name?—spent ten thousandpounds and failed because he did not bribe enough. What a bitterreflection for a man!"
"Somebody was saying," said the Rector, laughingly, "that EastRetford was nothing to Middlemarch, for bribery."
"Nothing of the kind," said Mr. Brooke. "The Tories bribe, you know:Hawley and his set bribe with treating, hot codlings, and that sort ofthing; and they bring the voters drunk to the poll. But they are not goingto have it their own way in future—not in future, you know.Middlemarch is a little backward, I admit—the freemen are a littlebackward. But we shall educate them—we shall bring them on, youknow. The best people there are on our side."
"Hawley says you have men on your side who will do you harm,"remarked Sir James. "He says Bulstrode the banker will do you harm."
"And that if you got pelted," interposed Mrs. Cadwallader, "half therotten eggs would mean hatred of your committee-man. Good heavens!Think what it must be to be pelted for wrong opinions. And I seem toremember a story of a man they pretended to chair and let him fall into adust-heap on purpose!"
"Pelting is nothing to their finding holes in one's coat," said theRector. "I confess that's what I should be afraid of, if we parsons had tostand at the hustings for preferment. I should be afraid of theirreckoning up all my fishing days. Upon my word, I think the truth is thehardest missile one can be pelted with."
"The fact is," said Sir James, "if a man goes into public life he mustbe prepared for the consequences. He must make himself proof againstcalumny."
