Volume I Part 16 (2/2)
and yet it is precisely what I left it.
You will then retort, that it is _I_ am changed! I own it, Kitty. I am so. But can you make this a matter of reproach?
If so, is not every step in intellectual progress, every stage of development, a stigma? Your theory, if carried out, would soar beyond the limits of this life, and dare to a.s.sail the angelic existences of the next!
But you could not intend this; no, Kitty, I acquit you at once of such a notion; even the defence of your friend could not make you so unjust.
Dr. Belton must, surely, be in error as to any supposed pledges or promises on my part. I have taxed my memory to the utmost, and cannot recall any such. If, in the volatile gayety of a childish heart,--remember, sweetest, I was only eighteen when I left home,--I may have said some silly speech, surely it is not worth remembering, still less recording, to make me blush for it. Lastly, Kitty, I have learned to know that all real happiness is based upon filial obedience; and whatever sentiments it would be possible for me to entertain for Dr. B.
would be diametrically opposed to the wishes of my papa and mamma.
I have now gone over this question in every direction I could think of, because I hope that it may nevermore recur between us. It is a theme which I advert to with sorrow, for really I am unable to acquit of presumption one whose general character is conspicuous for a modest and retiring humility. You will acquaint him with as much of the sentiments I here express as you deem fitting. I leave everything to your excellent delicacy and discretion. I only beg that I may not be again asked for explanations on a matter so excessively disagreeable to discuss, and that I may be spared alluding to those peculiar circ.u.mstances which separate us forever. If the time should come when he will take a more reasonable and just view of our respective conditions, nothing will be more agreeable to me than to renew those relations of friends.h.i.+p which we so long cultivated as neighbors; and if, in any future state I may occupy, I can be of the least service to him, I beg you to believe that it will be both a pride and a pleasure to me to know it.
It is needless, after this, to answer the question of your postscript.
Of course he must not write to me. Nothing could induce me to read his letter. That he should ever have thought of such a thing is a proof--and no slight one--of his utter ignorance of all the conventional rules which regulate social intercourse. But a truce to a theme so painful.
I answer your brief question of the turn-down of your letter as curtly as it is put. No; I am not in love with Lord George, nor is he with me. We regard each other as brother and sister; we talk in the most unreserved confidence; we say things which, in the narrower prejudices of England, would be infallibly condemned. In fact, Kitty, the sway of a conscientious sense of right, the inward feeling of purity, admit of many liberties here, which are denied to us at home. Here I tell you, in one word, what it is that const.i.tutes the superiority in tone of the Continent over our own country,--I should say it was this very same freedom of thought and action.
The language is full of a thousand graceful courtesies that mean so much or so little. The literature abounding in a.n.a.lysis of emotions,--that secret anatomy of the heart, so fascinating and so instructive; the habits of society so easy and so natural; and then that chivalrous homage paid to the s.e.x,--all contribute to extend the realms of conversational topics, and at the same time to admit of various ways of treating them, such as may suit the temper, the talent, or the caprice of each. How often does it happen from this that one hears the gravest themes of religion and politics debated in a spirit of the most sparkling wit and levity, while subjects of the most trivial kind are discussed with a degree of seriousness and a display of learning actually astounding! This wonderful versatility is very remarkable in another respect; for, strange enough, it is the young people abroad who are the gravest in manner, the most reserved and most saturnine.
The high-spirited, the buoyant, and most daring talkers are the elderly.
In a word, Kitty, everything here is the reverse of that at home; and, I am forced to confess, possesses a great superiority over our own notions.
I am dying to tell you more of the Ritter, which, I must explain to you, is the German for ”Chevalier.” If you want a confession, too, I will make one; and that is that he is desperately in love with a poor friend of yours, who feels herself quite unworthy of the devotion of this scion of thirty-two quarterings.
In a worldly point of view, Kitty, the possibility of such an event would be brilliant beyond conception. His estates are a princ.i.p.ality, and his Schloss von Wlfenberg one of the wonders of the Black Forest.
Does not your heart swell and bound, dearest, at the thought of a real castle, in a real forest, with a real baron, Kitty?--one of those cruel creatures, perhaps, who lived in feudal times, and always killed a child, to warm their feet in his heart's blood? Not that our Ritter looks this. On the contrary, he is gentle, low-voiced, and dreamy,--a little too dreamy,--if I must say it, and not sufficiently alive to the rattling drolleries of Lord George and James, who torment him unceasingly.
Mamma likes him immensely, though their intercourse is limited to mere bows and greetings; and even papa, whose prejudice against foreigners increases with every day, acknowledges that he is very amiable and good-tempered. Cary appears to me to be greatly taken with him, but he never notices her, nor pays her the slightest attention. I 'm sure I wish he would, and I should be delighted to contribute towards such a conjuncture. Who knows what may happen later, for he has invited us all to the Schloss for the shooting-season,--some time, I believe, in autumn,--and papa has said ”Yes.”
I now come to another secret, dearest Kitty, depending on all your discretion not to divulge it, at least for the present. Mamma has received a confidential note from Waters, the attorney, informing her that she is to succeed to the McCarthy estates and property of the late Jones M'Carthy, of M'Carthy's Folly. The amount is not yet known to us, and we are surrounded by such difficulties, from our desire to keep the matter secret, that we cannot expect to know the particulars for some time. The estates were considerable; but, like those of all the Irish aristocracy, greatly enc.u.mbered. The personal property, mamma thinks, could not have been burdened, so that this alone may turn out handsomely.
By some deed of settlement, or something of the kind, executed at papa's marriage with mamma, he voluntarily abandoned all right over any property that should descend to her, so that she will possess the unlimited control over this bequest. Mr. Waters mentions that the testator desired--I am not certain that he did not require as a condition--that we should take the name of McCarthy. I hope so with all my heart I do not believe that anything could offer such obstacles to us abroad as this terrible and emphatic monosyllable; now, Dodd M'Carthy has a rhythm in it, and a resonance also.
It sounds territorially, too; like the _de_ of French n.o.bility. We should figure in fas.h.i.+onable ”Arrivals and Departures” with a certain air of distinction that is denied to us at present; and I really do not see why we should not be ”The M'Carthy.” You know, dearest, that the Herald's office never interferes about Celtic n.o.bility, inasmuch as its origin utterly defies investigation; and there are, consequently, no pains nor penalties attached to the a.s.sumption of a native t.i.tle. How I should be delighted to hear us announced as ”The M'Carthy, family and suite,” with an explanatory paragraph about papa being the blue or the black knight. The English are always impressed with these things, and foreigners regard them with immense devotion. There is another incalculable advantage, Kitty, not to be overlooked. All little eccentricities of manner, little peculiarities of accent, voice, and intonation, of which neither pa nor ma are totally exempt, instead of being criticised, as some short-sighted folk might criticise them, as vulgar, low, and commonplace, rise at once to the dignity of a national trait.
They are like Breton French, or certain Provenal expressions in use amongst the ancient ”Seigneurie” of the land. They actually dignify station, instead of disgracing it, so that a ”brogue” seems to seal the very patent of your n.o.bility, and the mutilations of your parts of speech stand for quarterings on your escutcheon.
It might seem invidious were I to quote the instances which support my theory; but I a.s.sure you, seriously, that social success, to be rapid, requires aids like these. There was a time when being a Villiers, a Stanley, or a Seymour gave you a kind of illusory n.o.bility. You were a species of human shot-silk, that turned blue in one light, and brown in another; but now that Burke is read in the national schools, and the ”Almanach de Gotha” in the G.o.dless colleges, deception on this head is impossible. They take you ”to book” at once. You can't be one of the Howards of Ettinham, for Lady Mary died childless; nor one of the Worseley branch, for the present Marquis, who married Lady Alice de Courtenaye, had only two children,--one, British envoy at the Court of Prince of Salms und Schweinigen; the other, &c. In fact, Kitty, you are voted n.o.body. They will not allow you father nor mother, uncle nor aunt, nor even any good friends. Better be Popkins, or Perkins, Snooks, or even Smith, than this! The Celtic _n.o.blesse_, however, is a safe refuge against all impertinent curiosity. Tracing the Dodd M'Carthy to his parent stem would be like keeping count of the sheep in Sancho's story.
Besides, matters of succession are made matters of faith in the Church, and why shouldn't they be in the M'Carthy family? I don't suppose we want to be more infallible than the Pope?
I have not forgotten what you mentioned about your brother Robert; nor was it at all necessary, my dear Kitty, for you to speak of his talents and acquirements, which I well know are first-rate. I took an opportunity the other day of alluding to the master to Lord George, who has influence in every quarter. I told him pretty much in the words of your letter, that he was equally distinguished in science as in cla.s.sics, had taken honors in both, and was in all other respects fully qualified to be a tutor. That, being a gentleman by birth, though of small fortune, his desire was to obtain the advantages of foreign travel, and the opportunity of acquiring modern languages, for which he was quite willing to a.s.sume all the labor and fatigue of a teacher. He stopped me short here by saying, ”I 'm afraid it 's no go. They 've made a farce, and a devilish good one, too, of the 'Irish Tutor;' and I half suspect that Dr. O'Toole, as he is called, has spoiled the trade.”
I tried to introduce a word about Robert's attainments, but he broke in with,--”That 's all very well; I 'm quite sure of everything you say.
But who takes a 'coach'?”--That's the slang for tutor, Kitty!--”No one takes a 'coach' for his learning nowadays. What's wanted--particularly when travelling--is a sharp, wide-awake fellow, that knows all the dodges of the Continent as well as a courier, can bully the police, quiz the custom-house, and slang the waiters. He ought to be up to the opera and the ballet; be a dead hand at cart, and a capital judge of cigars.
After these, his great requisites are never ceasing good-humor, and a general flow of high spirits, to stand all the bad jokes and vapid fun of young college men; a yielding disposition to go anywhere, with any one, and for anything that may be proposed; and, finally, a ready tact never to suppose himself included in any invitation with his 'Bear,'
who, however well he may treat him, will always prefer leaving him at home when he dines at an 'Emba.s.sy.'”
<script>