Mrs. Oliphant

“ Mary had been seized in the new sense of motherhood with a panic and fear of alarm which nothing could quench. She who had forgiven everything to Letitia, who had thought of nothing either in her madness or her recovery but the interests of her former friend, now feared her as if she were a criminal, and felt that every moment the heir remained in her hands was a moment of danger. “She will do him no harm,” Agnes tried to say. “She is not kind. She does not love him, but she will do him no harm.” Mary would not listen to this voice of reason. ”

“ Lord Frogmore showed no consciousness that she was an old maid, that she was past her bloom, that she was poor and he was doing her a great honor—oh, not a sign of that! If she had been a duke’s daughter and a creature beautiful as the day, the old gentleman could not have written with more tender respect. Mary was not without pride, humble woman though she was, and she had received many a wound among Letitia’s careless friends and visitors, wounds of which she was too proud to say anything and too good to resent, but of which she had deeply felt the sting. ”

“ Oh, if I only knew what I had done!”
“Dear Mary,” said Agnes, “don’t trouble your mind with imaginations. It is all fancy. Do you think Frogmore, who was so fond of you, would trouble your poor innocent soul with a reproach? Oh no, oh no.”
“I think so, too,” said Mary, “but sometimes there comes a terror over me as if I have neglected something or forgotten something. If he sees us, Agnes, he must know I never meant it! He must know I never meant it! People can’t grow less understanding but more understanding when they die.” ”

“ Oh, Letitia, I think my heart will break!”
“Oh, my dear,” said Letitia, “I know all about hearts breaking. It never stops you from having your own way. What is the use of saying you would rather die? Would you rather die with all the good things in life before you?{161} Nonsense, Mary! Don’t talk to me as if I didn’t know all about it. Now you’ll be petted and feted and made as if there never was the like before. You and your baby—while my poor Duke, my Duke, that was the real, rightful heir——”
Mrs. John burst forth in sobs and tears, and the room grew darker and darker. ”

“ Letitia’s every nerve was trembling with terror, physical fear surmounting the first panic of discovery, which was a terror of the mind. She expected every moment an accès of madness, in which she might be torn limb from limb—though at the same time calculating that the mad woman might loose her hold, and there might be a possibility of desperate flight, and of all the household on her side protecting her, and sudden relief from every terror. The nature of the emergency brought back to her after the first speechless horror her power of thought and calculation. ”

“ Mary, who had never seen old Lord Frogmore, figured to herself a sneering dreadful old man, whose satirical looks would be enough to make life intolerable. She had read of such men in books, and specially of the relations of the husband who would pursue with rancour or contempt a wife whom they did not approve. She went over it so often in her waking dreams that she seemed to see the dreadful old cynic whose very glance would be like a sharp arrow. Poor Letitia! It was bad enough to have a brother like Ralph without exhibiting him at his very worst to the old lord. ”

“ John!” he said.
“Oh, Frogmore,” cried the lady, “how is Mary? I could not rest when I heard how ill she was till I had come over to see for myself.”
“I do not know,” said Lord Frogmore stiffly, “how ill you may have heard she was: but I don’t wonder that you should wish to see for yourself.”
“No: can you wonder? We have been like sisters almost all our lives.”
Though Letitia quaked at the old lord’s tone, she felt that it was the wisest way to ignore all offence.
“Sisters, if all tales are true, are not always the best of friends,” said Lord Frogmore. ”

“ Oh Letitia, only a moment! I must speak to you.”
“There is John calling,” said Mrs. Parke, composedly. “Good-bye, Mary, I can’t stop a moment longer. Take care of the boy, and mind you don’t let Saunders and the rest get the upper hand. Who can it be if it’s not Dr. Hilton? But whoever it is, mind what I say. What does age matter? If he can support you, and leave you something when he dies, take him, take him, Mary Hill—at your age what could you expect more.” ”

“ No one, no one shall come near my child to harm him again, for his mother will be there. Go, you wicked woman, go.”
“You are mad,” cried Letitia, “who would believe a mad woman? Say what you please, do you think anyone will listen to you! You are mad, mad! I’ll have you put in an asylum. I’ll have you shut up. I’ll—Oh, save me from her, she’s mad, she’s mad!” cried Letitia, with a shriek. There was someone coming—and Mary had put forth her hands as if to seize her again. Letitia ran past her to the door, and there stood for a moment panting, vindictive. ”

“ Mary had got so used to it all that when a stranger in a London shop, or a cottager, or any person of the inferior classes called her ma’am instead of my lady, she was much amused by the mistake. And she had forgotten all evil prognostications, and was almost happy in a sort of truce with Letitia, kept up by the presents and the visits and numberless overtures of amity which it pleased her to make, and which Mrs. John condescended to accept. She had begun to think that all was well, and to know herself to be happy, and to feel as if nobody could ever be ill or die, or fall into trouble more. ”

“ I looked him up in the peerage. Mary, he is sixty-six.”
“Is that all?” said Mary. “Letitia speaks as if he were a hundred: but, mother, for a woman, forty is almost as old.”
“Oh, what nonsense,” said Mrs. Hill, “more than a quarter of a century of difference. It is a great temptation in a worldly point of view, my dear, but Mary——!”
Mr. Hill was a venerable person of large bulk, whose voice came out of the depths of his throat, and who was, Mary said to herself with energy, a hundred years older than Lord Frogmore. He had a large head, with heavy white hair, and always a solemn aspect. ”

“ You must have heard.”
“Letitia could not—she could not—oh, even she could not,” cried Agnes, with great agitation; “and yet who can tell? She might say what was the use? Oh, forgive me. What you have said has made me very anxious. Typhoid fever has a horrible sound. It takes the courage out of one’s heart.”
“What I heard must have been an exaggeration,” said the clergyman. “I wish I had not told you. People are so fond of adding a little to a piece of news. Anything to make a sensation. I daresay it is only a common cold or something unimportant. You will not tell Lady Frogmore?” ”

“ I remember no more.”
“You were very ill, oh very ill; so ill that—Oh,” said Agnes, “don’t make me think of that terrible time.”
“Ah!” said Mary, a quiet seriousness coming over her face, though her lips still smiled, “you thought I was going to die.”
Agnes made no reply.
“But even that,” said Lady Frogmore, “was not enough to make you all deceive me so cruelly. No, no, my dear, I did not mean cruelly. You must have thought it for the best. One can but do what one thinks is for the best. Was there ever such a thing before that a woman should live and never know. ”

“ A cold shiver of alarm lest this might turn out to be true, mingled with the shiver of her cold, which answered to the draughts from the window. Hunted out of her warm corner by the fire, exposed to the chill, her heart sinking, her cough coming on, there is no telling to what depth of dejection poor Mary might have fallen. She was saved for the moment at least by the rush at the door of her mother and sister, who, after a pause of wonder and many consultations, had at last decided that it was their duty to be present to support Mary—however grand and exalted her visitors might be. ”

“ To see that Mary Hill in the place that should be mine, to kiss her and pretend to be friends when I could tear her in pieces with my hand, to see your old fool of a brother, who ought to have been dead and buried——”
“Letitia, not a word against Frogmore!”
“Oh, fiddlesticks about Frogmore! as if one could have any patience with an old—— He ought to have been dead and buried long ago. No man has a right to live on society, and keep other people out of their rights. And to marry at that age! It ought to be punished like murder. ”

“ It depends upon how a thing is said, whether there is harm in it or not.”
“I know,” said Letitia, “that I have enemies in this house. I know Mrs. Hill and Agnes. Oh, Agnes is spiteful! She never wishes to see Mary with me. She thinks I put her against them; as if I would ever interfere between a woman and her own family. But, Frogmore, you know what women are. They are jealous; they are spiteful; they never lose an opportunity to whisper against one that has done better than themselves. I know very well what it is that turns you against me. It is Agnes Hill that has put things into your head.” ”

“ But nowadays Letitia did not remember that, and felt convinced that she had married him because he was heir-presumptive to Lord Frogmore. Who could say now when that designation might be erased from the peerage? And even if it were now erased, there was still the humiliating certainty that Mary—Mary Hill—was my Lady Frogmore, a fact that produced paroxysms almost of madness in the bosom of Mrs. John Parke. And she had a right to be angry. Even Mrs. Hill allowed this. To have had for years only an old bachelor between you and your highest hopes—and then that he should marry at sixty-seven! ”

“ Truth compels us to say that it was a most specious letter—a letter in which innocence was made to look like guilt, a letter full of excuses, of explanations, of deprecations, trying to show how she could have done nothing else, how no harm could follow, and yet that the culprit was conscious of a thousand dreadful consequences. The effort of writing it made Mary ill. She kept her bed in a fever of anxiety and excitement, counting the hours till Letitia should receive it, thinking, with her heart in her mouth, “Now she has got it, what will she say? What will she do?” ”

“ But my comfort in it all is this—that no harm has been done. I don’t understand your talk about a child. John Parke, my husband’s brother, is of course Lord Frogmore; and Letitia is Lady Frogmore: and I am the Dowager; that is all as plain as daylight. And,” said Mary, rising, her eyes full of tears, her gesture full of dignity, “if they think I grudge it they are very, very wrong. I wish them a happy life and long, long years to bear their new name; and my own comfort in losing my dear lord is that no harm has been done to them.” ”

“ Her voice was husky and hoarse by nature, and she was out of breath either with fretting or with the unusual rapidity of motion, which had brought her in like a heavy barge, tugged in the wake of a little bustling steamboat. She cast a glance round to see if there was a comfortable chair, and dropped heavily into that which was sacred to the vicar on the other side of the fire, from which she looked round, contemplating the shabby parlor and the figure of Mary in her shawl against the window. ”

“ It seemed something to sit up, to accompany the vigil of the nurse, the possibility of the change with the intensity of feeling if not of presence. When Agnes closed her eyes she seemed to see the whole scene—the room with its shaded light, the wasted form scarcely visible in the bed; the nurse—a silent figure—watching the long hours through. She did not know that the nurse who was then with the boy was one who did not hope—which was a thing which would have added heaviness to the vigil had she known it. ”

“ In the sweep of her excitement she would not receive that thought.
“But, mother, it’s true,” said Duke. “I’ve liked the ball awfully. You are one for this sort of thing, nobody can do it like you. But of course when Mar comes of age——”
“Oh, don’t speak to me of Mar. He’ll never come of age!” she cried in the wildness of her elated mood. There was a universal cry: “Letitia! Mother! Mamma!” in different tones of indignation and horror.
She was driven out of all sense of decorum in her heat and excitement. ”

“ Mar was far too weak to take an interest in any one, perhaps even to recognize his cousin. And Letitia felt that she could not bear the noisy grief with which her son would no doubt receive the news, which was the best news for him that could possibly be. It was bad enough to see Letty with her red eyes moping about the house, and Tiny devoting herself to her lessons as if the mortification of her soul over them was more appropriate to the crisis than anything she cared for. ”

“ There came from Mary’s bosom an answering sob of excitement and misery, but she made no reply.
“I can understand, dear,” said Letitia, putting her arm around the arched shoulders, “that now you have made up your mind to marry you don’t feel as if you could give it up. I don’t ask you to give it up—but oh, think how far better than an old man like that it would be to have one that was really fond of you, one of your own age, a person that was natural! Oh, Mary, hear me out. Father has settled to give him something, and we could make out between us what would be quite a fortune in Australia. ”

“ But all he has is ours by right. It ought to go to the children, every penny. And do you think he minds what you do—an old maid? Not a bit. If there is a thing that men despise, it is an old maid.”
“Letitia,” said Mary, with a trembling voice. “It will do no good for you and me to quarrel. If you ever say anything like this again I will go away from your house that very day. Lord Frogmore is a kind, good man; he is nicer to me than anyone in this house. Perhaps the gentlemen here do despise old maids. If they do, I think it shows that they are very silly to despise anybody for such a cause. ”

“ But also, in spite of all her self-command and capacity for excusing herself, Letitia was afraid in her heart of meeting Mary, terrified for her look, wondering how much she remembered, how much she knew. She could not form an idea to herself how she would be received by her old friend. She was afraid of Mary—afraid lest Lady Frogmore should betray her to John, and make her stolid but upright husband aware of the harm she had done. And also, if truth must be told, Mrs. Parke was afraid of the mad woman whom she had injured, and of whose cure she thought nobody could be certain. ”

“ Is she perhaps to be the one left out? the one to whom the enchanter is not to come. To trace the process from that first doubt, which is so startling, which gives a sudden check to life, to the calm certainty that no such thing would ever happen to her, which had long filled the gentle bosom of Mary Hill, would take too much time and space. It need only be said that Mary had accepted the position years ago. Her sister Agnes and she had long given up any thoughts of the kind. Their hearts fluttered no longer when they gazed along the blank road by which no hero had ever come. ”

“ It was a good thing the stuff was spilt—all spilt and useless on the floor except a little which went upon her dressing gown. Milk makes a stiff mark, hardens the stuff it stains, as if it were blood. Mary jumped back to save her grey gown. Oh, she did not mean to have her grey silk spoiled whatever happened, which was so like Mary. And then Letitia had got away. Nobody had seen it one way or the other, or knew anything about it except Mary. And what was there to know? Nothing! the stuff was spilt—there was nothing—nothing! She had done no harm—absolutely no harm. ”

“ Agnes did not venture to inquire further, or to suggest that Duke’s party was a reality and not a dream; but trembling with anxiety, with eagerness, with deep disappointment, had to compel herself to silence and allow her sister to rest. There is a period at which we all arrive in our deepest troubles, when we shrink from effort, when even to try to set matters right becomes too much, and to remain quiet always, to ignore one’s misery, seems the best. ”

“ But they couldn’t expect me to consider them before myself,” said Lord Frogmore. “A man likes to have an heir of his own, Rogers—a son of his own to come after him.”
“Yes, he do, my lord,” Rogers said.
“A man loves to have an heir of his own,” repeated the old lord with a beaming face—“his own flesh and blood—his own son to sit in his place. That’s what a man prefers before everything, Rogers.” ”

“ After that extraordinary thrill of silence John Parke spoke again in a voice which quivered strangely. “I came to tell you,” he said, “that Letitia is ill.”
“Ah!” said Mary. And she added gravely, “I do not wonder,” with sudden seriousness; but there was nothing more in her gentle countenance; no anger; no fear.
The nurse, who was the least enlightened of all, yet the most eager, the most full of surmises, said with anxiety, yet timidity, “Mrs. Parke has been so anxious. She has taken so much out of herself.” ”

“ For Mary Hill, who had never asserted herself anywhere, had insensibly acquired the self-possession of her new rank, her sister could not tell how. And the little old gentleman beamed like a wintry sun upon his household and his guests. Impossible to imagine a kinder host, a more delightful brother-in-law. He was good to everybody who had ever had to do with Mary—the old aunts in London; even, oddly enough, Ralph Ravelstone, who so frankly informed Lord Frogmore of his intention to marry Mary had all gone well with him. ”