Edgar Arden

“ I for myself am nobody—less a great deal than the poor fellow who died, whom they seem to have had a kind of human feeling for. She cried over him even—and laughed, and said I meant nothing, Edgar added, in a sudden flush of pique and dissatisfaction. What meaning, I wonder, did she intend me to have? From this it will be seen that Edgar Arden was not in love—was not the least in love; but yet did not care that Gussy should think of him as an article of merchandise—a creature representing settlements and a house of her own. It is a humiliating position for a man to find himself in. ”

“ It sounds uncivil, but it is true.”
“Would you have had me, as he says, carry on the imposture,” said Edgar, with an attempt at a smile. “Would you have had me, knowing who I am——”
“Pooh! pooh!” said Mr. Fazakerly. “Pooh! pooh! You don’t in the least know who you are. And that is not your business in the least—it is his. Let him prove what he can; you are Edgar Arden, of Arden, occupying a position which, for my part, I think you ought to have been contented with. To make yourself out to be somebody else is not your business. ”

“ Arthur Arden himself was an honourable man—he did nothing which society could put a mark against, which could stain his reputation among men; but to expose the weakness of his own position, to relinquish voluntarily, not being forced to it, his living and name, and everything he had, in the world!—He calculated upon Edgar that he would do this, and he despised him for it, and concluded in his heart that such cowardice and weakness, though, perhaps, they might be dignified by other names—such as generosity and honour—were owing to the meanness of his extraction, the vulgarity of his nature. ”

“ Had he come back to Arden in love or in hatred; for herself or for Edgar? Arthur Arden had powers and faculties which were the growth of experience, and which are rarely possessed by very young men. He could look so that nobody could see him looking except the person at whom he gazed. He could express devotion, almost adoration, without the bystanders being a bit the wiser. He could flatter and persuade, and make use of a thousand weapons, without even addressing the object of his thoughts. And Clare, how she could not tell, had come to understand that strange language. ”

“ Poor dear papa! I think he knew everything. Mr. Arden, it is so kind of you to speak of him. No one ever speaks of him to me. People think it brings one’s grief back—as if one would not give the world to have it back! And Edgar and I—poor Edgar!—he can’t talk of him as—as most children can. You know why: it is no one’s fault. Perhaps if I had been a little more firm—— But, oh, it is so kind of you to talk to me of papa!”
“I did not mean to be kind,” said Arthur Arden, with a sudden compunction, feeling his own treachery. “But perhaps I knew him better than Edgar could,” he added, gently. ”

“ There’s a fine fellow,” said the Doctor, patting him on the{30} shoulders with a caress which was quite as forcible as it was affectionate. “I ought to like you, Edgar Arden, for you have always justified my opinion of you, and done exactly what I expected you would do, all your life.” ”

“ Come back—Clare! For the moment she had taken Edgar’s part; but this at least it was in his power to alter. As much as he had ever loved any one, he loved Clare; but he was come to his kingdom, and the intoxication of the triumph bewildered his faculties. He might marry any one—not any longer a mere heiress, great or small, but anybody—a duke’s daughter, a lady of the highest pretensions. Arden of Arden was the equal of the best nobleman in Christendom. ”

“ Arthur Arden is not a miser, I know. I should not like to say—— He is fond of what belongs to him, and—— He is not at all like—— My dear, I never knew any one like Edgar. Other gentlemen may be kind—— I daresay Mr. Arthur Arden is kind—— but these things would never come into his head—— He is a man that is very fond of—— Well, my dear, it is no harm. One ought to be rather fond of oneself—— But Edgar—— Clare——”
“Edgar is a fool!” cried Clare, with passion. “He is not an Arden; he would give away everything—his very life, if it would serve anybody. Such men cannot live in the world ”

“ He smiled a painful smile as this thought crossed his mind. They were one of the proudest families in England, and yet it fell to a nameless man, a man most likely of no lineage at all, to set them right. If any forlorn consolation was to be got out of it at all it was this.
When Edgar was seen riding up the avenue at Thorne it made a commotion in the house. Mary and Beatrice spied him from the window of the room which had been their schoolroom, and where they still did their practising and wrote their letters to their dearest friends. “Oh, there is Edgar Arden coming to propose to Gussy!” ”

“ So much older, poorer, less true and good than herself; a man, with so many soils of the world upon him, whom even Edgar felt to possess experiences of which he would rather know nothing; but Clare loved him!{32} Nothing else could account for her agitation. It was too late to banish him from the house, too late to build up defences round her—the stronghold was gone. Edgar’s quick mind jumped from that conclusion to an instant and final summary of Arthur Arden’s character. He was a man who might mend, as so many men might mend, if prosperity smiled upon him. ”

“ If you will not do what I ask you to do, I will never, never forgive myself all my life. I will feel that I have been the cause. Edgar! you never refused to listen to me before.”
“No,” he said. The voice was farther off, and Arthur Arden had to bend forward close to the window to hear at all, but even then could not be insensible to the thrill of feeling that was in it. “No; but you never counselled me to do wrong before. Never! You have been like an angel to me—— Clare.” ”

“ Edgar came down at his usual hour, bright and light-hearted, as his nature was. He went up to the breakfast table with its vase of roses, and bent his face down over it. “How pleasant Sunday is,” he said, “and how pleasant it is to be at home! I hope you are better this morning, Clare. Could any one help being better in this sweet air and this lovely place? I never thought Arden was half so beautiful. Fancy, there are people in town just now wasting their lives away! ”

“ To Arthur Arden, for instance, the course of existence which startled Edgar was too common to call for a single question. It was the ordinary state of affairs to him. But Edgar knew the other forms so much better. He understood those conditions under which a man labours that he may live. That theory was familiar to him which makes the day’s work necessary to the day; but to exist in order to get rid of your existence—to bend all your faculties to the question, not how you are to provide for, but how you are to spend and dispose of your days, that was new to him. ”

“ She had told her brother she hated Arthur Arden, and at the moment it was true; but now that Edgar, for whose sake she hated him, had condoned his offences, and asked him to the house, Clare, if her pride would have let her, might have confessed that she loved Arthur Arden, and it would have been equally true. He had exercised over her when she had seen him last that strange fascination which a man much older than herself often exercises over a girl. ”

“ He could be generous at Edgar’s cost, who, he felt sure, would accept no sacrifice. He gave a glance at the young man who was no Arden, who was looking on without anxiety now, with a faint smile still on his face, and a certain bright curiosity and interest in his eyes. It was perfectly safe. There are some people whom even their enemies, even those who do not understand them, can calculate upon, and Edgar was one of these. Arthur looked at him, and saw his way to save Clare and to save appearances, and yet attain fully his will and his rights. He took the packet up, and put it in Clare’s lap. ”

“ It was Clare who was queen at the present moment of her brother’s heart and household; but even if there had been no Clare, Edgar would still have been trying to please somebody—to defer his own wishes to another’s pleasure, by instinct, as nature compelled him. It is a disposition which gives its possessor a great deal of trouble, but at least it is not a common one. And the curious thing was that he did not blame Arthur Arden for pushing his society upon him, as anybody else would have done. It was weakness on his own part, not selfishness on that of his kinsman. ”

“ A pause again—not a word said on any side—the three old men looking on without a movement, almost without a breath; and Arthur Arden, with his elbows still resting on the table, and his head turned aside, gazing, as if it were a reptile in his{197} path, at the packet beside him. How he would have snatched at it had it not been for these spectators! There was no impulse of generosity towards Edgar in his mind. Such an impulse would have been at once foolish and uncalled for. Edgar himself had taken pains to show that he wanted no such generosity—and a man cannot part lightly with his rights. ”

“ What troubled her was the question—Would he be a radical, and introduce innovations, ignore the mightiness of his family, conduct himself as if his name were anything else than Arden? This sufficed to plant the intensest seriousness, with almost a cast of severity in it, upon the brow of Clare.
“Didn’t I tell you exactly how it would happen?” said the Doctor, when Edgar was gone; “no sentiment to speak of—utter absence of revengeful feelings: settling down as if it was the most natural thing in the world—bygones to be bygones, and a fair start for the future. ”

“ Had not Edgar left home on purpose to send him away from Arden?—Edgar, whose fault it was, who had thus thrown his cousin into the arms of the Pimpernels, into the way of temptation. Clare was unreasonable, as was natural. She forgot—as it is so easy to forget—that Arthur Arden was much older than her brother, far more experienced, a man doubly learned in the ways of the world. The first thing that occurred to her had been to suspect poor little Jeanie, to blame Mrs. Murray; and now her imagination fell upon Edgar, putting all the responsibility on his shoulders. ”

“ The Turk is the truest symbol of humanity so far, and there is no man, worth calling a man, who would not be satisfied in his inmost heart if he could shut up his womankind from every rash look or doubtful comment. Edgar beat a tune on the table with his fingers, blew clouds of smoke about him in his restlessness, shuffled and swayed himself about in his chair; but what could he do to stop the disquisitions of the man who had known Clare all her life?
“Arthur Arden is a handsome fellow, and a clever fellow,” continued Dr. Somers. ”

“ I did not look for this, at least. Flare up, if you please—treat it any way you like. I was driven to it by my feelings; if yours are so calm——”
“Were you?” said Edgar, gravely. “Perhaps I am wrong. I have no right to make light of any man’s feelings; but naturally it is my sister I must think of, not you. You talk of Newmarch as something not to be supported; but do you really think, Arden, that you yourself would be a better match for Clare?”
“I am a gentleman, at least, though I am not the son of a pasteboard Earl,” said Arthur, angrily. To tell the truth, it was hard upon him. ”

“ Fielding looked at him with critical gravity, which by-and-bye melted into a smile. “If black and white put together ever produced red,” he said, “I should be able to understand you, Edgar. But I can’t somehow. It must be one of the old Ardens asserting his right to be represented; that sometimes occurs in an old family; some great-grandfather tired of letting the other side of the house have it all their own way; for you know that dark beauty came in with the Spanish lady in Queen Elizabeth’s time. You must be like your mother in your disposition—for you are not a bit of an Arden. ”

“ To meet the gravity of a look which became penetrating and keen the moment it was roused with such an interest—all this was utterly unexpected. He had feared Clare, but he had said to himself, with the contempt of a man of the world for Edgar’s open temper and liberal heart, that he could twine her brother round his finger. Indeed, there had not seemed any particular credit in so doing. Anybody could do it, even a novice. The young man could be persuaded out of or into anything, and was not in reality worth considering at all. But now Arthur Arden paused, and changed his mind. ”

“ But the absence of this impassioned selfishness on Edgar’s part laid him open to the action of all the secondary motives. Never did there exist a more friendly affectionate soul. He would have put himself to trouble to procure what it wanted for any child he heard crying by the way. It came natural to him, as it comes natural to some men, by hook or by crook, to secure their own advantage. And if it really should be the case that he himself, or rather Mr. Arden of Arden, was a thing that Gussy Thornleigh wanted very much, and would be the happier for, why should not she have it? ”

“ Fielding Edgar went to Miss Somers, to whom he told his story under the same disguise, but who unlike the Rector believed him undoubtingly, and gave him her best sympathy, but not much enlightenment, as may be supposed. And he returned to Arden very little the wiser, asking himself still the same question, What should he do? Must he go home and be patient and look on while Arthur Arden, quite unmolested and at his ease, laid snares and toils for Clare? Clare had no warning, no preparation, no defence against these skilful and elaborate plots. She might fall into the net at any moment. ”