"You said, according to him, that he would be one of those ridiculousclergymen who help to make the whole clergy ridiculous. Really, thatwas so cutting that I felt a little cut myself."
Caleb laughed. "She gets her tongue from you, Susan," he said, withsome enjoyment.
"Not its flippancy, father," said Mary, quickly, fearing that hermother would be displeased. "It is rather too bad of Fred to repeat myflippant speeches to Mr. Farebrother."
"It was certainly a hasty speech, my dear," said Mrs. Garth, withwhom speaking evil of dignities was a high misdemeanor. "We should notvalue our Vicar the less because there was a ridiculous curate in the nextparish."
"There's something in what she says, though," said Caleb, notdisposed to have Mary's sharpness undervalued. "A bad workman of anysort makes his fellows mistrusted. Things hang together," he added,looking on the floor and moving his feet uneasily with a sense that wordswere scantier than thoughts.
"Clearly," said the Vicar, amused. "By being contemptible we setmen's minds, to the tune of contempt. I certainly agree with Miss Garth'sview of the matter, whether I am condemned by it or not. But as to FredVincy, it is only fair he should be excused a little: old Featherstone'sdelusive behavior did help to spoil him. There was something quitediabolical in not leaving him a farthing after all. But Fred has the goodtaste not to dwell on that. And what he cares most about is havingoffended you, Mrs. Garth; he supposes you will never think well of himagain."
"I have been disappointed in Fred," said Mrs. Garth, with decision."But I shall be ready to think well of him again when he gives me goodreason to do so."
At this point Mary went out of the room, taking Letty with her.
"Oh, we must forgive young people when they're sorry," said Caleb,watching Mary close the door. "And as you say, Mr. Farebrother, therewas the very devil in that old man."
Now Mary's gone out, I must tell you a thing—it's only known toSusan and me, and you'll not tell it again. The old scoundrel wantedMary to burn one of the wills the very night he died, when she wassitting up with him by herself, and he offered her a sum of money thathe had in the box by him if she would do it. But Mary, you understand,could do no such thing—would not be handling his iron chest, and so on.Now, you see, the will he wanted burnt was this last, so that if Mary haddone what he wanted, Fred Vincy would have had ten thousand pounds.The old man did turn to him at the last. That touches poor Mary close;she couldn't help it—she was in the right to do what she did, but shefeels, as she says, much as if she had knocked down somebody'sproperty and broken it against her will, when she was rightfullydefending herself. I feel with her, somehow, and if I could make anyamends to the poor lad, instead of bearing him a grudge for the harm hedid us, I should be glad to do it. Now, what is your opinion, sir? Susandoesn't agree with me. She says—tell what you say, Susan."
"Mary could not have acted otherwise, even if she had known whatwould be the effect on Fred," said Mrs. Garth, pausing from her work,and looking at Mr. Farebrother.
"And she was quite ignorant of it. It seems to me, a loss which fallson another because we have done right is not to lie upon ourconscience."
The Vicar did not answer immediately, and Caleb said, "It's thefeeling. The child feels in that way, and I feel with her. You don't meanyour horse to tread on a dog when you're backing out of the way; but itgoes through you, when it's done."
"I am sure Mrs. Garth would agree with you there," said Mr.Farebrother, who for some reason seemed more inclined to ruminatethan to speak. "One could hardly say that the feeling you mention aboutFred is wrong—or rather, mistaken—though no man ought to make aclaim on such feeling."
"Well, well," said Caleb, "it's a secret. You will not tell Fred."
"Certainly not. But I shall carry the other good news—that you canafford the loss he caused you."
Mr. Farebrother left the house soon after, and seeing Mary in theorchard with Letty, went to say good-by to her. They made a prettypicture in the western light which brought out the brightness of theapples on the old scant-leaved boughs—Mary in her lavender ginghamand black ribbons holding a basket, while Letty in her well-worn nankinpicked up the fallen apples. If you want to know more particularly howMary looked, ten to one you will see a face like hers in the crowdedstreet to-morrow, if you are there on the watch: she will not be amongthose daughters of Zion who are haughty, and walk with stretched-outnecks and wanton eyes, mincing as they go: let all those pass, and fixyour eyes on some small plump brownish person of firm but quietcarriage, who looks about her, but does not suppose that anybody islooking at her. If she has a broad face and square brow, well-markedeyebrows and curly dark hair, a certain expression of amusement in herglance which her mouth keeps the secret of, and for the rest featuresentirely insignificant—take that ordinary but not disagreeable person fora portrait of Mary Garth. If you made her smile, she would show youperfect little teeth; if you made her angry, she would not raise her voice,but would probably say one of the bitterest things you have ever tastedthe flavor of; if you did her a kindness, she would never forget it. Maryadmired the keen-faced handsome little Vicar in his well-brushedthreadbare clothes more than any man she had had the opportunity ofknowing. She had never heard him say a foolish thing, though she knewthat he did unwise ones; and perhaps foolish sayings were moreobjectionable to her than any of Mr. Farebrother's unwise doings. Atleast, it was remarkable that the actual imperfections of the Vicar'sclerical character never seemed to call forth the same scorn and dislikewhich she showed beforehand for the predicted imperfections of theclerical character sustained by Fred Vincy. These irregularities ofjudgment, I imagine, are found even in riper minds than Mary Garth's:our impartiality is kept for abstract merit and demerit, which none of usever saw. Will any one guess towards which of those widely differentmen Mary had the peculiar woman's tenderness?—the one she was mostinclined to be severe on, or the contrary?
"Have you any message for your old playfellow, Miss Garth?" saidthe Vicar, as he took a fragrant apple from the basket which she heldtowards him, and put it in his pocket. "Something to soften down thatharsh judgment? I am going straight to see him."
"No," said Mary, shaking her head, and smiling. "If I were to say thathe would not be ridiculous as a clergyman, I must say that he would besomething worse than ridiculous. But I am very glad to hear that he isgoing away to work."
"On the other hand, I am very glad to hear that you are not goingaway to work. My mother, I am sure, will be all the happier if you willcome to see her at the vicarage: you know she is fond of having youngpeople to talk to, and she has a great deal to tell about old times. Youwill really be doing a kindness."
"I should like it very much, if I may," said Mary. "Everything seemstoo happy for me all at once. I thought it would always be part of my lifeto long for home, and losing that grievance makes me feel rather empty: Isuppose it served instead of sense to fill up my mind?"
"May I go with you, Mary?" whispered Letty—a most inconvenientchild, who listened to everything. But she was made exultant by havingher chin pinched and her cheek kissed by Mr. Farebrother—an incidentwhich she narrated to her mother and father.
As the Vicar walked to Lowick, any one watching him closely mighthave seen him twice shrug his shoulders. I think that the rareEnglishmen who have this gesture are never of the heavy type—for fearof any lumbering instance to the contrary, I will say, hardly ever; theyhave usually a fine temperament and much tolerance towards the smallererrors of men (themselves inclusive). The Vicar was holding an inwarddialogue in which he told himself that there was probably somethingmore between Fred and Mary Garth than the regard of old playfellows,and replied with a question whether that bit of womanhood were not agreat deal too choice for that crude young gentleman. The rejoinder tothis was the first shrug. Then he laughed at himself for being likely tohave felt jealous, as if he had been a man able to marry, which, addedhe, it is as clear as any balance-sheet that I am not. Whereupon followedthe second shrug.
What could two men, so different from each other, see in this "brownpatch," as Mary called herself? It was certainly not her plainness thatattracted them (and let all plain young ladies be warned against thedangerous encouragement given them by Society to confide in their wantof beauty). A human being in this aged nation of ours is a very wonderfulwhole, the slow creation of long interchanging influences: and charm is aresult of two such wholes, the one loving and the one loved.
When Mr. and Mrs. Garth were sitting alone, Caleb said, "Susan,guess what I'm thinking of."
"The rotation of crops," said Mrs. Garth, smiling at him, above herknitting, "or else the back-doors of the Tipton cottages."
"No," said Caleb, gravely; "I am thinking that I could do a great turnfor Fred Vincy. Christy's gone, Alfred will be gone soon, and it will befive years before Jim is ready to take to business. I shall want help, andFred might come in and learn the nature of things and act under me, andit might be the making of him into a useful man, if he gives up being aparson. What do you think?"
"I think, there is hardly anything honest that his family would objectto more," said Mrs. Garth, decidedly.
"What care I about their objecting?" said Caleb, with a sturdinesswhich he was apt to show when he had an opinion. "The lad is of ageand must get his bread. He has sense enough and quickness enough; helikes being on the land, and it's my belief that he could learn businesswell if he gave his mind to it."
"But would he? His father and mother wanted him to be a finegentleman, and I think he has the same sort of feeling himself. They allthink us beneath them. And if the proposal came from you, I am sureMrs. Vincy would say that we wanted Fred for Mary."
"Life is a poor tale, if it is to be settled by nonsense of that sort," saidCaleb, with disgust.
"Yes, but there is a certain pride which is proper, Caleb."
"I call it improper pride to let fools' notions hinder you from doing agood action. There's no sort of work," said Caleb, with fervor, putting outhis hand and moving it up and down to mark his emphasis, "that couldever be done well, if you minded what fools say. You must have it insideyou that your plan is right, and that plan you must follow."
"I will not oppose any plan you have set your mind on, Caleb," saidMrs. Garth, who was a firm woman, but knew that there were somepoints on which her mild husband was yet firmer. "Still, it seems to befixed that Fred is to go back to college: will it not be better to wait andsee what he will choose to do after that? It is not easy to keep peopleagainst their will. And you are not yet quite sure enough of your ownposition, or what you will want."
"Well, it may be better to wait a bit. But as to my getting plenty ofwork for two, I'm pretty sure of that. I've always had my hands full withscattered things, and there's always something fresh turning up. Why,only yesterday—bless me, I don't think I told you!—it was rather oddthat two men should have been at me on different sides to do the samebit of valuing. And who do you think they were?" said Caleb, taking apinch of snuff and holding it up between his fingers, as if it were a partof his exposition. He was fond of a pinch when it occurred to him, buthe usually forgot that this indulgence was at his command.
His wife held down her knitting and looked attentive.
"Why, that Rigg, or Rigg Featherstone, was one. But Bulstrode wasbefore him, so I'm going to do it for Bulstrode. Whether it's mortgage orpurchase they're going for, I can't tell yet."
"Can that man be going to sell the land just left him—which he hastaken the name for?" said Mrs. Garth.
"Deuce knows," said Caleb, who never referred the knowledge ofdiscreditable doings to any higher power than the deuce. "But Bulstrodehas long been wanting to get a handsome bit of land under his fingers—that I know. And it's a difficult matter to get, in this part of the country."
Caleb scattered his snuff carefully instead of taking it, and thenadded, "The ins and outs of things are curious. Here is the land they'vebeen all along expecting for Fred, which it seems the old man nevermeant to leave him a foot of, but left it to this side-slip of a son that hekept in the dark, and thought of his sticking there and vexing everybodyas well as he could have vexed 'em himself if he could have kept alive. Isay, it would be curious if it got into Bulstrode's hands after all. The oldman hated him, and never would bank with him."
"What reason could the miserable creature have for hating a manwhom he had nothing to do with?" said Mrs. Garth.
"Pooh! where's the use of asking for such fellows' reasons? The soulof man," said Caleb, with the deep tone and grave shake of the headwhich always came when he used this phrase—"The soul of man, when itgets fairly rotten, will bear you all sorts of poisonous toad-stools, and noeye can see whence came the seed thereof."
It was one of Caleb's quaintnesses, that in his difficulty of findingspeech for his thought, he caught, as it were, snatches of diction whichhe associated with various points of view or states of mind; andwhenever he had a feeling of awe, he was haunted by a sense of Biblicalphraseology, though he could hardly have given a strict quotation.
CHAPTER XLI.
"By swaggering could I never thrive,
For the rain it raineth every day.
—Twelfth Night
The transactions referred to by Caleb Garth as having gone forwardbetween Mr. Bulstrode and Mr. Joshua Rigg Featherstone concerning theland attached to Stone Court, had occasioned the interchange of a letteror two between these personages.
