CHAPTER XXII.
A short time passed ere the generous heart of the elder of these brothers experienced a shock which was as great an infliction to his feelings as if he had been positively deprived of his birthright, his position in society, any, or all, of the good things which Providence had bestowed on him. He was received with the fondest possible welcome by his grandfather and an aged sister, who resided with him, and had been the constant friend and first instructor of their beloved Frederic; nor was Arthur met with less affection, although much less known, because they held him in the light of an heroic preserver to their greatest treasure. A very short time served to prove how worthy he was both of their love and esteem; the manly sincerity, the professional simplicity and openness of his heart, with the sweetness of his cheerful temper, and that novel way of looking at the world peculiar to the noble-spirited and unhackneyed seaman, rendered him equally dear and delightful to all around him. Mrs. Margaretta Hales (who ne'er had changed, or wished to change, her name) declared that, in three days, he had done her more good for a rheumatic affection than any doctor within ten miles of Brokesbourne had been able to effect—that his face, though brown, was as bright as sunshine, and his laugh was like music in the house, which had been melancholy enough since Frederic went to those far distant countries; but which, since the death of his father, had been gloomy to misery.
However intense the love of Lord Meersbrook was for his brother, yet he had felt some little misgivings as to the way he would impress two people so advanced in life, as his venerable grandfather and his great aunt. In his own schoolboy days, he well remembered that, with great tenderness, and many indulgences, there were yet many lectures given, and many rules made, into which he had fallen easily, but which Arthur never could observe more than an hour at a time; for, however willing to be on his good behaviour, that buoyancy of boyish spirits Miss Edgeworth happily terms "superfluous animation" was continually goading him into the perpetration of petty mischiefs and boisterous merriment. This disposition his subsequent life had not tended to change in any considerable degree, though increased knowledge, with much observation, and a little reading, had rendered the gaiety of the young man a very different thing to the obstreperous mirth of the boy. Few persons of his age had seen so much of climates and races as Arthur, for he had been two or three years with his father in different parts of India, before he was allowed to devote himself to the service, in which, since then, he had been constantly engaged, but which had allowed him to make trips to various cities in Europe, and associate with persons of every description; for neither the greatest nor the gravest ever shunned the noble-looking youth, whose countenance was the index of truth and integrity, who bore an ancient and honoured name, akin to a title won by essential services to his native country. This variety of introduction, even that which included the monotony of courts, had had a happy effect on his manners, which, however excited, could never be coarse, and however situated, were self-controlled. It was long since he had found himself so tried as by Lady Anne, whom he gravely called "a great liar" for saying her daughter was poorly, and "a great tyrant" for keeping the poor girl at home, and then vanished, in the belief that his self-command would return the sooner for removing from her presence. This circumstance took place, to a sufficient degree, as we have seen, for the purposes of civility, being undoubtedly assisted by the hope, which was frustrated, of seeing Georgiana again. Not doing so (though he laughed at the moment) was, in fact, a great mortification, and he journeyed towards Meersbrook Hall by no means in the humour calculated to make Frederic assured on the subject of his intended application to his grandfather. We must glance at the early life of the elder brother also.
Our young nobleman, fond of learning, and particularly desirous to please a father, of whom, for many years, he saw very little, applied himself with great diligence to the study of the oriental languages, and at fourteen had made such progress, that his father became desirous of seeing him, to the extreme of anxiety—a feeling awakened the more from the loss of his daughter, and being then engaged in an embassy to Persia, and previously ennobled. Frederic, under due escort, proceeded to Persia, and the long parted brothers had a year of each other's society, alike sweet and beneficial to both, but which did not for an hour disarrange either the wishes or intentions of the younger, who was even then the taller and the older looking, notwithstanding the marked likeness between them. The parting was very painful to both, but most probably got over much the soonest by Arthur, busied by his new duties and perpetual change of scene. Frederic sorrowed so deeply that his father saw a positive necessity for some new motive for exertion, and he soon engaged him in learning all the manly and graceful exercises for which certain races in the East have always been distinguished, possessing already many of those noble Arab horses which might tempt him to exercise them.
The plan succeeded entirely, his health and his stature improved, his timidity vanished, and a proper sense of his own situation, in its value and its duties, succeeded, without destroying that modesty always pleasing in youth, or impairing that habitual and affectionate obedience to his father, which had been implanted from his cradle during his residence at Meersbrook. The quietness and gravity of Eastern, especially Mahommedan manners, fell upon a soil calculated, in his case, to nourish the seed; but this by no means prevented the natural hilarity of youth from constituting a large portion of his existence, and he became to his father the lightener of his many cares, and the dispenser of all his pleasures. His knowledge was of the kind daily called into action, his accomplishments those which could be estimated by all around him; and his affections found their constant exercise in attending to the wishes, or promoting the honour of his beloved father, or in writing to his wandering brother, and contriving the means of enjoying short, but most cordial and happy interviews.
The Viscount Meersbrook's fatal illness was short and severe, but it did not affect his senses, and thereby deprive him of knowing that his idolised son watched his pillow day and night, with an anxiety and tenderness which supplied even the wife and daughter he had lost. When able to speak, he gave directions, on many circumstances in public business, in which his son might supply his place to the country, for which he had long and successfully laboured; but, these duties and services carefully performed, he earnestly desired him to return to his own country.
"You must be to my father," said the dying man, "what I should have been, the staff on which his declining years must lean; and you must also become the careful guiding friend, as well as dear companion, of Arthur. You will, I hope, marry soon, for you will be happiest in that state; and I trust you will find some good girl, whose integrity and affection will equal your own. You will not need to seek wealth; though I was happy with one who gave me much; it is not a common case, for suspicion is often attached to it. Either marry a well-informed, religious woman, or a tractable, well-disposed girl, whom you may instruct. Marry soon; but be careful in choosing, and avoid, as you would the fang of the serpent, that class of married women who seek to charm the senses of young, unpractised men, for their mere pride of conquest."
"Married women, father?" cried Frederic, whose very soul was absorbed in his anxiety to catch every venerated word.
"Yes, my son; avoid them, tremble when you approach them; guard poor Arthur also, he is handsome and thoughtless. I would he, too, were married; but"
Frederic thought he understood the but, and silently did he lift his heart to heaven, promising himself that no want of means in his power to bestow should be wanting to his brother's happiness. After a little rest, Lord Meersbrook, as if reading the thoughts of his son, explained to him his own future situation, his means of supporting his dignities; and exacted from him a promise, not to disturb, by any act of unwise generosity, the provision he had made for Arthur.
"Leave my brave boy to conquer fortune. If his country helps him, well (I am sure he will help her when occasion serves); if not, let him work on—his character is essentially that which will be happiest in the struggle for independence; money might enervate—perhaps corrupt him. No, no, my glorious sailor son shall help himself, happy in that his kind and watchful brother will be a father to his family—if—if—he must fall."
The images awakened were too affecting, and the dying father ceased to speak; conscious he had left nothing undone for his earthly connexions, he sought to fix his mind steadily on those objects most worthy of it, nor would his son disturb him by a question or an allusion to any earthly thing. Agonizing as were his sorrows, forlorn and destitute as he must soon be come, he struggled to suppress the suffocating sob that might reach the ear and wound the heart of his beloved parent; and whilst silent tears poured as a deluge from his eyes, from his hand alone did the sufferer receive the anodyne, which might soothe though it could not save.
We will dwell no longer on this awful episode in our story; we seek not to recall sorrow to the feeling and bereaved bosom; suffice to say, that the young nobleman, our well loved Frederic, suffered much and suffered long, but eventually he fulfilled all his father's wishes and duties, and that, with a due and kindly consideration for the honoured dead and the worthy living, it was so ordered, that Arthur visited him, and in due time accompanied him to his native land. On this occasion, Lord Meersbrook was less the mourner than the consoler of his brother, who, from circumstances, did not learn the loss he had sustained for near a twelvemonth, and on arriving at Ispahan almost felt as if he was about to witness the funeral of his father.
This circumstance, of course, knit the hearts of these two amiable young men more closely than ever, and the accident which occurred in the Channel placed them in the situation of the royal friends mentioned in the Old Testament:—"Very pleasant hath thy love been unto me, my brother Jonathan, surpassing the love of woman." Nevertheless, woman has her day, even where the dearest friends and strongest bonds of consanguinity forbid the bands. Arthur, whose feelings were always impetuous, had ceased to weep for his father and rejoice over his brother; but the "great deeps" of his soul had been stirred within him; and at the very time when the commotion was subsiding into that state he would have called a "lull," Beauty crossed his path, Love followed in the wake; and he entered at once into all the pains and penalties, the bitter sweets, and sorrowful pleasures, which belong to his votaries.
But, as the reader will conceive, it was no part of his nature to be a sighing swain; and, although he had heard many good stories told on board of manœuvring dowagers and slighted younger brothers, and had witnessed a specimen of such circumstances occurring, it yet could not enter his head that he could long cruise in any seas without securing the prize he sought. There was not a shadow of self-conceit in this conclusion; he might have said, with great truth, "she had eyes and she chose me;" but his personal advantages, great as they were, never crossed his mind. His point to stand upon was the circumstance of being a sailor; he did not underrate noble alliance and ancient blood, for he thought them capital ballast; but he had so often cheered, in his heart, as well as by his tongue, "the lass that loves a sailor," that she had become to him the "queen of beauty;" and, of all other good and great qualities, therefore, in order to render poor Georgiana the perfection of her sex, she must be and should be the said "lass," the "Black-eyed Susan," the "lovely Nan," the "bright particular star," for whose sake he could, like Romeo, have been "cut up into little ones."
As every thought and wish was told to his brother as they rose, and it was evident that the power of rambling and talking greatly increased that passion which Dr. Johnson truly observed was "much less prevalent in London than the country," Lord Meersbrook looked anxiously for the time in which he could best open his heart, and explain his wishes to his grandfather. He one day prevailed on Arthur to go out without him, and accompany his aunt to pay morning visits in the family-coach, though a vessel for which it was certain he had no penchant; but he really loved the old lady, and was much in the habit of comparing her with poor Lady Anne, by no means to the advantage of the younger party. It was not difficult, during their absence, to lead the conversation, which always veered either to the life or the death of the late lord; and, on this occasion, Sir Edward Hales made more particular inquiries than he had ever done before as to the last words and actions of a son who had been the pride of his life, not less than the centre of his affections.
His grandson told him all that had passed on that awful occasion, allowing no literal deviation from truth, yet, probably, raising his voice the loudest when he repeated the praises of Arthur, and sinking it some what below the claims of an aged ear, when he reverted to the denial of his father respecting the alienation of property necessary for the support of his own dignities, and most happy was he when the old gentleman exclaimed eagerly—
"But Arthur had not risked his life for yours, at that time! he had not preserved you from drowning then!"
"He had not, my dear sir: neither had he placed his affections upon a well-born, but unportioned girl, who is really lovely and amiable; these two reasons render me extremely anxious for his future welfare. I honour my father's judgment, and concede to his opinion, and wish not to give our dear sailor any sudden accession of wealth, which he may not, at present, be qualified to use, and which his 'ladye love' would not desire; for both herself and sisters have had the mortifications which belong to poverty for years, and have gained the knowledge which can counteract its pressure. I speak not from my own observation, but that of Mrs. Palmer, the excellent woman who so kindly nursed my lamented sister, and whom Augusta held dear as a mother."
"You could quote no better authority, Frederic; but go on, say what you wish to be done for poor Arthur."
"Such an assurance of property as may enable him to ask her mother's consent, and satisfy the earl, her uncle."
"Who is he, Frederic?"
"Lord Rotheles, sir; of course, I do not know him."
"Nor I, much, thank God! he ran away with another man's wife, and his own divorced him, if I remember the story right; nevertheless, the impression was that he was more of a dupe than a knave. Be that as it may, he is not a man whom a Hales can desire connection with; but he helps his sister, Lady Anne Granard, who is a proud, cold-hearted woman, and ruined her worthy husband."
"I have heard as much, but her daughters are only the more to be pitied; it is of the youngest but one I have spoken."
"I like it not, I like it not, Frederic! Seldom comes a fair bird from a foul nest. Arthur had better suffer for a month than for a life; he must forget her; 'twill be no great thing for a gay-hearted young man, like him. Promotion must be his mistress, and, in doing his best to attain her, he will forget 'the pale, unripened beauty of the North.'"
"My father wished us both to marry early—more especially myself. I will not think of it till I see poor Arthur settled, for he wished that also; and he has often told me that our family were singular from the constancy of their attachments. Both yourself and him, dear grandpapa, were left young, handsome widowers, with extremely small families, yet you formed no second connection. Aunt Margaretta was only suspected of an attachment, and she has remained true to the sentiment, yet must have had many suitors. I am convinced it will be my own case, should I find an object worthy my affection; and I have no right to place my brother out of the family pale; he may be more rapid in his conclusions, more easily struck, and more ardently excited, but I yet believe he will be true to the family virtue, for such I consider it; we have it on both sides, for my mother was a martyr to her love for my father."
"Your mother was an angel, Frederic," said the old gentleman, after a long pause; "it goes much against the grain to think of giving any son of hers to the daughter of Lady Anne Granard; yet, I will confess, I loved Rotheles, her father, and I liked her husband very much; it may be possible that her daughters inherit on the right side of the house. I will consider what I can do."
"Dear, good, generous grandfather, you can do every thing; you can place Arthur in the situation assigned to me, the heir of Sir Edward Hales."
Sir Edward suddenly started from his chair; his thin and generally bending form became erect and stately, and his sunken eyes emitted a stream of lambent fire, as he exclaimed:—
"Degenerate boy! was it to this end you became the child I fostered in my bosom, to the forming of whose mind I bent all the powers of my own? whose departure I lamented with tears a thousand times; for whom I have cared and toiled, curtailing my expences that I might enlarge the estates meant for your enjoyment? Do you cast from you the birthright of ancestors, ennobled by their virtues far more than you are by your new honours? Remember the fate of him who sold his birthright, and afterwards 'found no place for repentance, though he sought it carefully with many tears.'"
Lord Meersbrook did not reply; he was discomfited and rebuked, yet not, therefore, self-convicted of error, since he knew his motives to be high and pure, and was sensible that he ought rather to be charged with too much pride, in his origin, than too little regard for its claims. The baronet resumed the subject.
"Shall these woods be cut down, young man, whose arms have waved their branches over the graves of your Saxon ancestors! this house, honoured by the visit of the virgin queen—these walks, planned by Bacon, haunted by Raleigh, and praised by Burleigh—landscapes that have been described in the Arcadia of Sir Philip Sidney and the pages of Spencer, be resigned without a sigh—given as a toy—or probably sold for a song to pay the throw of a die, or shine on the throat of a girl—swell the orgies of a bellowing crew, or be swept away by an election, which may save a spendthrift creditor from a merited jail! Must my anxious management, my prudent retrenchments, dear Margaretta's savings, all go!"
"Pardon me, sir—pardon me for interrupting you, but I must speak. Arthur will do none of the things you fear. Though possessing a generosity that would be princely, he honours our dear father's lessons far too much to be imprudent, and he loves me far too well to grieve me by that extravagance unhappily too common amongst men of his profession. He never plays, save for the triumph of skill; and, with no less attachment than myself for these distinguished shades, he has not less pride in them, and, were they in danger, would give all he possesses, or ever will possess, to redeem them. Had I not fully relied on his character, dearly as I love him, and anxious as I am to evince that love by more than words, I could not have proposed it; and remember, dear Sir Edward, I did not ask you to give your estates. Long, very long, may it be before they are bequeathed. Time will, I trust, have taught Arthur wisdom long ere then, and myself also, and your fears will be confined to our children. May they be what all the Hales have been, and the lesson will be short!"
"Perhaps I have spoken hastily—too hastily; but I am an old man, and the apprehensions of age err as much on one side as the romance of youth on the other."
"Dear grandfather, you forget that you began life early, and have felt its sorrows acutely; but I have always understood that the old age of a virtuous life was long and gentle. I have been wrong to urge this suit; I will do so no more. I have over-valued my life, and sought to pay too high a price for that which has yet to prove its worth."
"Don't say that, Frederic; don't say that. You have been the stay and blessing of my life, and the comfort of your idolized father's; your feelings are worthy of you, and my local attachments not, I trust, unworthy me. If for the first time in your life they have jarred, yet, in point of fact, our sense of your obligation and of your devotedness to your brother is alike binding; and, if I had not been averse to the connexion Arthur contemplates, I should not have started from the proposition in the manner I did, though the matter must remain the same. Here come my sister and the subject of our solicitude; let us take both into our councils."