|
EVAN HARRINGTON - V3
EVAN HARRINGTON - V3 GEORGE MEREDITH BOOK 3.
XIV. THE COUNTESS DESCRIBES THE FIELD OF ACTION
XV. A CAPTURE
XVI. LEADS TO A SMALL SKIRMISH BETWEEN ROSE AND EVAN
XVII. IN WHICH EVAN WRITES HIMSELF TAILOR
XVIII. IN WHICH EVAN CALLS HIMSELF GENTLEMAN
CHAPTER XIV
THE COUNTESS DESCRIBES THE FIELD OF ACTION
Now to clear up a point or two: You may think the Comic Muse is
straining human nature rather toughly in making the Countess de Saldar
rush open-eyed into the jaws of Demogorgon dreadful to her. She has
seen her brother pointed out unmistakeably as the tailor-fellow. There
is yet time to cast him off or fly with him. Is it her extraordinary
heroism impelling her onward or infatuated rashness? or is it her mere
animal love of conflict?
The Countess de Saldar like other adventurers has her star. They who
possess nothing on earth have a right to claim a portion of the heavens.
In resolute hands much may be done with a star. As it has empires in
its gift so may it have heiresses. The Countess's star had not blinked
balefully at her. That was one reason why she went straight on to
Beckley.
Again: the Countess was a born general. With her star above with
certain advantages secured with battalions of lies disciplined and
zealous and with one clear prize in view besides other undeveloped
benefits dimly shadowing forth the Countess threw herself headlong into
the enemy's country.
But that you may not think too highly of this lady I must add that the
trivial reason was the exciting cause--as in many great enterprises.
This was nothing more than the simple desire to be located if but for a
day or two on the footing of her present rank in the English country-
house of an offshoot of our aristocracy. She who had moved in the first
society of a foreign capital--who had married a Count a minister of his
sovereign had enjoyed delicious high-bred badinage with refulgent
ambassadors could boast the friendship of duchesses and had been the
amiable receptacle of their pardonable follies; she who moreover
heartily despised things English:--this lady experienced thrills of proud
pleasure at the prospect of being welcomed at a third-rate English
mansion. But then that mansion was Beckley Court. We return to our
first ambitions as to our first loves not that they are dearer to us
--quit that delusion: our ripened loves and mature ambitions are probably
closest to our hearts as they deserve to be--but we return to them
because our youth has a hold on us which it asserts whenever a
disappointment knocks us down. Our old loves (with the bad natures I
know in them) are always lurking to avenge themselves on the new by
tempting us to a little retrograde infidelity. A schoolgirl in Fallow
field the tailor's daughter had sighed for the bliss of Beckley Court.
Beckley Court was her Elysium ere the ardent feminine brain conceived a
loftier summit. Fallen from that attained eminence she sighed anew for
Beckley Court. Nor was this mere spiritual longing; it had its material
side. At Beckley Court she could feel her foreign rank. Moving with our
nobility as an equal she could feel that the short dazzling glitter of
her career was not illusory and had left her something solid; not coin
of the realm exactly but yet gold. She could not feel this in the
Cogglesby saloons among pitiable bourgeoises--middle-class people daily
soiled by the touch of tradesmen. They dragged her down. Their very
homage was a mockery.
Let the Countess have due credit for still allowing Evan to visit Beckley
Court to follow up his chance. If Demogorgon betrayed her there the
Count was her protector: a woman rises to her husband. But a man is what
he is and must stand upon that. She was positive Evan had committed
himself in some manner. As it did not suit her to think so she at once
encouraged an imaginary conversation in which she took the argument that
it was quite impossible Evan could have been so mad and others instanced
his youth his wrongheaded perversity his ungenerous disregard for his
devoted sister and his known weakness: she replying that undoubtedly
they were right so far: but that he could not have said he himself was
that horrible thing because he was nothing of the sort: which faith in
Evan's stedfast adherence to facts ultimately silenced the phantom
opposition and gained the day.
With admiration let us behold the Countess de Saldar alighting on the
gravel sweep of Beckley Court the footman and butler of the enemy bowing
obsequious welcome to the most potent visitor Beckley Court has ever yet
embraced.
The despatches of a general being usually acknowledged to be the safest
sources from which the historian of a campaign can draw I proceed to set
forth a letter of the Countess de Saldar forwarded to her sister
Harriet Cogglesby three mornings after her arrival at Beckley Court; and
which if it should prove false in a few particulars does nevertheless
let us into the state of the Countess's mind and gives the result of
that general's first inspection of the field of action. The Countess's
epistolary English does small credit to her Fallow field education; but
it is feminine and flows more than her ordinary speech. Besides
leaders of men have always notoriously been above the honours of grammar.
'MY DEAREST HARRIET
'Your note awaited me. No sooner my name announced than servitors in
yellow livery with powder and buckles started before me and bowing one
presented it on a salver. A venerable butler--most impressive! led the
way. In future my dear let it be de Saldar de Sancorvo. That is our
title by rights and it may as well be so in England. English Countess
is certainly best. Always put the de. But let us be systematic as my
poor Silva says. He would be in the way here and had better not come
till I see something he can do. Silva has great reliance upon me. The
farther he is from Lymport my dear!--and imagine me Harriet driving
through Fallow field to Beckley Court! I gave one peep at Dubbins's as
I passed. The school still goes on. I saw three little girls skipping
and the old swing-pole. SEMINARY FOR YOUNG LADIES as bright as ever! I
should have liked to have kissed the children and given them bonbons and
a holiday.
'How sparing you English are of your crests and arms! I fully expected
to see the Jocelyns' over my bed; but no--four posts totally without
ornament! Sleep indeed must be the result of dire fatigue in such a
bed. The Jocelyn crest is a hawk in jesses. The Elburne arms are Or
three falcons on a field vert. How heraldry reminds me of poor Papa!
the evenings we used to spend with him when he stayed at home studying
it so diligently under his directions! We never shall again! Sir Franks
Jocelyn is the third son of Lord Elburne made a Baronet for his
patriotic support of the Ministry in a time of great trouble. The people
are sometimes grateful my dear. Lord Elburne is the fourteenth of his
line--originally simple country squires. They talk of the Roses but we
need not go so very far back as that. I do not quite understand why a
Lord's son should condescend to a Baronetcy. Precedence of some sort for
his lady I suppose. I have yet to learn whether she ranks by his birth
or his present title. If so a young Baronetcy cannot possibly be a
gain. One thing is certain. She cares very little about it. She is
most eccentric. But remember what I have told you. It will be
serviceable when you are speaking of the family.
...
|
