3 books to know Horatian Satire - Anthony Trollope 3 books to know

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he thought ill also of the baronetcy itself. Sir Patrick, to his thinking, had been altogether unjustifiable in accepting an enduring title, knowing that he would leave behind him no property adequate for its support. A baronet, so thought Roger Carbury, should be a rich man, rich enough to grace the rank which he assumed to wear. A title, according to Roger’s doctrine on such subjects, could make no man a gentleman, but, if improperly worn, might degrade a man who would otherwise be a gentleman. He thought that a gentleman, born and bred, acknowledged as such without doubt, could not be made more than a gentleman by all the titles which the Queen could give. With these old-fashioned notions Roger hated the title which had fallen upon a branch of his family. He certainly would not leave his property to support the title which Sir Felix unfortunately possessed. But Sir Felix was the natural heir, and this man felt himself constrained, almost as by some divine law, to see that his land went by natural descent. Though he was in no degree fettered as to its disposition, he did not presume himself to have more than a life interest in the estate. It was his duty to see that it went from Carbury to Carbury as long as there was a Carbury to hold it, and especially his duty to see that it should go from his hands, at his death, unimpaired in extent or value. There was no reason why he should himself die for the next twenty or thirty years — but were he to die Sir Felix would undoubtedly dissipate the acres, and then there would be an end of Carbury. But in such case he, Roger Carbury, would at any rate have done his duty. He knew that no human arrangements can be fixed, let the care in making them be ever so great. To his thinking it would be better that the estate should be dissipated by a Carbury than held together by a stranger. He would stick to the old name while there was one to bear it, and to the old family while a member of it was left. So thinking, he had already made his will, leaving the entire property to the man whom of all others he most despised, should he himself die without child.

      In the afternoon of the day on which Lady Carbury was expected, he wandered about the place thinking of all this. How infinitely better it would be that he should have an heir of his own! How wonderfully beautiful would the world be to him if at last his cousin would consent to be his wife! How wearily insipid must it be if no such consent could be obtained from her! And then he thought much of her welfare too. In very truth he did not like Lady Carbury. He saw through her character, judging her with almost absolute accuracy. The woman was affectionate, seeking good things for others rather than for herself; but she was essentially worldly, believing that good could come out of evil, that falsehood might in certain conditions be better than truth, that shams and pretences might do the work of true service, that a strong house might be built upon the sand! It was lamentable to him that the girl he loved should be subjected to this teaching, and live in an atmosphere so burdened with falsehood. Would not the touch of pitch at last defile her? In his heart of hearts he believed that she loved Paul Montague; and of Paul himself he was beginning to fear evil. What but a sham could be a man who consented to pretend to sit as one of a Board of Directors to manage an enormous enterprise with such colleagues as Lord Alfred Grendall and Sir Felix Carbury, under the absolute control of such a one as Mr Augustus Melmotte? Was not this building a house upon the sand with a vengeance? What a life it would be for Henrietta Carbury were she to marry a man striving to become rich without labour and without capital, and who might one day be wealthy and the next a beggar — a city adventurer, who of all men was to him the vilest and most dishonest? He strove to think well of Paul Montague, but such was the life which he feared the young man was preparing for himself.

      Then he went into the house and wandered up through the rooms which the two ladies were to occupy. As their host, a host without a wife or mother or sister, it was his duty to see that things were comfortable, but it may be doubted whether he would have been so careful had the mother been coming alone. In the smaller room of the two the hangings were all white, and the room was sweet with May flowers; and he brought a white rose from the hot-house, and placed it in a glass on the dressing table. Surely she would know who put it there. Then he stood at the open window, looking down upon the lawn, gazing vacantly for half an hour, till he heard the wheels of the carriage before the front door. During that half-hour he resolved that he would try again as though there had as yet been no repulse.

      Chapter XV

      ‘You Should Remember that I Am His Mother’

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      ‘This is so kind of you,’ said Lady Carbury, grasping her cousin’s hand as she got out of the carriage.

      ‘The kindness is on your part,’ said Roger.

      ‘I felt so much before I dared to ask you to take us. But I did so long to get into the country, and I do so love Carbury. And — and —’

      ‘Where should a Carbury go to escape from London smoke, but to the old house? I am afraid Henrietta will find it dull.’

      ‘Oh no,’ said Hetta smiling. ‘You ought to remember that I am never dull in the country.’

      ‘The bishop and Mrs Yeld are coming here to dine to-morrow — and the Hepworths.’

      ‘I shall be so glad to meet the bishop once more,’ said Lady Carbury.

      ‘I think everybody must be glad to meet him, he is such a dear, good fellow, and his wife is just as good. And there is another gentleman coming whom you have never seen.’

      ‘A new neighbour?’

      ‘Yes — a new neighbour; — Father John Barham, who has come to Beccles as priest. He has got a little cottage about a mile from here, in this parish, and does duty both at Beccles and Bungay. I used to know something of his family.’

      ‘He is a gentleman then?’

      ‘Certainly he is a gentleman. He took his degree at Oxford, and then became what we call a pervert, and what I suppose they call a convert. He has not got a shilling in the world beyond what they pay him as a priest, which I take it amounts to about as much as the wages of a day labourer. He told me the other day that he was absolutely forced to buy second-hand clothes.’

      ‘How shocking!’ said Lady Carbury, holding up her hands.

      ‘He didn’t seem to be at all shocked at telling it. We have got to be quite friends.’

      ‘Will the bishop like to meet him?’

      ‘Why should not the bishop like to meet him? I’ve told the bishop all about him, and the bishop particularly wishes to know him. He won’t hurt the bishop. But you and Hetta will find it very dull.’

      ‘I shan’t find it dull, Mr Carbury,’ said Henrietta.

      ‘It was to escape from the eternal parties that we came down here,’ said Lady Carbury.

      She had nevertheless been anxious to hear what guests were expected at the Manor House. Sir Felix had promised to come down on Saturday, with the intention of returning on Monday, and Lady Carbury had hoped that some visiting might be arranged between Caversham and the Manor House, so that her son might have the full advantage of his closeness to Marie Melmotte.

      ‘I have asked the Longestaffes for Monday,’ said Roger.

      ‘They are down here then?’

      ‘I think they arrived yesterday. There is always a flustering breeze in the air and a perturbation generally through the county when they come or go, and I think I perceived the effects about four in the afternoon. They won’t come, I dare say.’

      ‘Why not?’

      ‘They never do. They have probably a house full of guests, and they know that my accommodation is limited. I’ve no doubt they’ll ask us on Tuesday or Wednesday, and if you like we will go.’

      ‘I know they are to have guests,’ said Lady Carbury.

      ‘What guests?’

      ‘The Melmottes are coming to them.’ Lady Carbury, as she made the announcement, felt that

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