LITMIR.BIZ

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and pounds,’ he continued. ‘Now, mother, sit down, and talk to me about him. Did he mention me? Did he give me his blessing? I hope he did not suffer. I’d have given anything to press his hand,’ and looking wistfully at the Percy lifting the hand of Douglas dead, Evan’s eyes filled with big tears.

      ‘He suffered very little,’ returned Mrs. Mel, ‘and his last words were about you.’

      ‘What were they?’ Evan burst out.

      ‘I will tell you another time. Now undress, and go to bed. When I talk to you, Van, I want a cool head to listen. You do nothing but yawn yard-measures.’

      The mouth of the weary youth instinctively snapped short the abhorred emblem.

      ‘Here, I will help you, Van.’

      In spite of his remonstrances and petitions for talk, she took off his coat and waistcoat, contemptuously criticizing the cloth of foreign tailors and their absurd cut.

      ‘Have you heard from Louisa?’ asked Evan.

      ‘Yes, yes—about your sisters by-and-by. Now, be good, and go to bed.’

      She still treated him like a boy, whom she was going to force to the resolution of a man.

      Dandy’s sleeping-room was on the same floor as Evan’s. Thither, when she had quitted her son, she directed her steps. She had heard Dandy tumble up-stairs the moment his duties were over, and knew what to expect when the bottles had been in his way; for drink made Dandy savage, and a terror to himself. It was her command to him that, when he happened to come across liquor, he should immediately seek his bedroom and bolt the door, and Dandy had got the habit of obeying her. On this occasion he was vindictive against her, seeing that she had delivered him over to his enemy with malice prepense. A good deal of knocking, and summoning of Dandy by name, was required before she was admitted, and the sight of her did not delight him, as he testified.

      ‘I ‘m drunk!’ he bawled. ‘Will that do for ye?’

      Mrs. Mel stood with her two hands crossed above her apron-string, noting his sullen lurking eye with the calm of a tamer of beasts.

      ‘You go out of the room; I’m drunk!’ Dandy repeated, and pitched forward on the bed-post, in the middle of an oath.

      She understood that it was pure kindness on Dandy’s part to bid her go and be out of his reach; and therefore, on his becoming so abusive as to be menacing, she, without a shade of anger, and in the most unruffled manner, administered to him the remedy she had reserved, in the shape of a smart box on the ear, which sent him flat to the floor. He rose, after two or three efforts, quite subdued.

      ‘Now, Dandy, sit on the edge of the bed.’

      Dandy sat on the extreme edge, and Mrs. Mel pursued:

      ‘Now, Dandy, tell me what your master said at the table.’

      ‘Talked at ‘em like a lord, he did,’ said Dandy, stupidly consoling the boxed ear.

      ‘What were his words?’

      Dandy’s peculiarity was, that he never remembered anything save when drunk, and Mrs. Mel’s dose had rather sobered him. By degrees, scratching at his head haltingly, he gave the context.

      “‘Gentlemen, I hear for the first time, you’ve claims against my poor father. Nobody shall ever say he died, and any man was the worse for it. I’ll meet you next week, and I’ll bind myself by law. Here’s Lawyer Perkins. No; Mr. Perkins. I’ll pay off every penny. Gentlemen, look upon me as your debtor, and not my father.”’

      Delivering this with tolerable steadiness, Dandy asked, ‘Will that do?’

      ‘That will do,’ said Mrs. Mel. ‘I’ll send you up some tea presently. Lie down, Dandy.’

      The house was dark and silent when Evan, refreshed by his rest, descended to seek his mother. She was sitting alone in the parlour. With a tenderness which Mrs. Mel permitted rather than encouraged, Evan put his arm round her neck, and kissed her many times. One of the symptoms of heavy sorrow, a longing for the signs of love, made Evan fondle his mother, and bend over her yearningly. Mrs. Mel said once: ‘Dear Van; good boy!’ and quietly sat through his caresses.

      ‘Sitting up for me, mother?’ he whispered.

      ‘Yes, Van; we may as well have our talk out.’

      ‘Ah!’ he took a chair close by her side, ‘tell me my father’s last words.’

      ‘He said he hoped you would never be a tailor.’

      Evan’s forehead wrinkled up. ‘There’s not much fear of that, then!’

      His mother turned her face on him, and examined him with a rigorous placidity; all her features seeming to bear down on him. Evan did not like the look.

      ‘You object to trade, Van?’

      ‘Yes, decidedly, mother-hate it; but that’s not what I want to talk to you about. Didn’t my father speak of me much?’

      ‘He desired that you should wear his militia sword, if you got a commission.’

      ‘I have rather given up hope of the Army,’ said Evan.

      Mrs. Mel requested him to tell her what a colonel’s full pay amounted to; and again, the number of years it required, on a rough calculation, to attain that grade. In reply to his statement she observed: ‘A tailor might realize twice the sum in a quarter of the time.’

      ‘What if he does-double, or treble?’ cried Evan, impetuously; and to avoid the theme, and cast off the bad impression it produced on him, he rubbed his hands, and said: ‘I want to talk to you about my prospects, mother.’

      ‘What are they?’ Mrs. Mel inquired.

      The severity of her mien and sceptical coldness of her speech caused him to inspect them suddenly, as if she had lent him her eyes. He put them by, till the gold should recover its natural shine, saying: ‘By the way, mother, I ‘ve written the half of a History of Portugal.’

      ‘Have you?’ said Mrs. Mel. ‘For Louisa?’

      ‘No, mother, of course not: to sell it. Albuquerque! what a splendid fellow he was!’

      Informing him that he knew she abominated foreign names, she said: ‘And your prospects are, writing Histories of Portugal?’

      ‘No, mother. I was going to tell you, I expect a Government appointment. Mr. Jocelyn likes my work—I think he likes me. You know, I was his private secretary for ten months.’

      ‘You write a good hand,’ his mother interposed.

      ‘And I’m certain I was born for diplomacy.’

      ‘For an easy chair, and an ink-dish before you, and lacqueys behind. What’s to be your income, Van?’

      Evan carelessly remarked that he must wait and see.

      ‘A very proper thing to do,’ said Mrs. Mel; for now that she had fixed him to some explanation of his prospects, she could condescend in her stiff way to banter.

      Slightly touched by it, Evan pursued, half laughing, as men do who wish to propitiate common sense on behalf of what seems tolerably absurd: ‘It ‘s not the immediate income, you know, mother: one thinks of one’s future. In the diplomatic service, as Louisa says, you come to be known to Ministers gradually, I mean. That is, they hear of you; and if you show you have some capacity—Louisa wants me to throw it up in time, and stand for Parliament. Andrew, she thinks, would be glad to help me to his seat. Once in Parliament, and known to Ministers, you—your career is open to you.’

      In justice to Mr. Evan Harrington, it must be said, he built up this extraordinary card-castle to dazzle his mother’s mind: he had lost his right grasp of her character for the moment, because of an undefined suspicion of something she intended, and which sent him himself to take refuge in those flimsy structures; while the very altitude he reached beguiled his imagination, and made him hope to impress hers.

      Mrs. Mel dealt it one fillip. ‘And in the meantime how are you to live, and pay the creditors?’

      Though

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