Volume I Part 19 (1/2)
But Mr. Carleton did not think his efforts thrown away. He understood and admired his fine old host and hostess; and with all their ignorance of conventionalities and absence of what is called _polish_ of manner, he could enjoy the sterling sense, the good feeling, the true, hearty hospitality, and the dignified courtesy, which both of them showed. No matter of the outside; this was in the grain. If mind had lacked much opportunity, it had also made good use of a little; his host, Mr. Carleton found, had been a great leader, was well acquainted with history, and a very intelligent reasoner upon it; and both he and his sister showed a strong and quick apt.i.tude for intellectual subjects of conversation. No doubt aunt Miriam's courtesy had not been taught by a dancing- master, and her brown satin gown had seen many a fas.h.i.+on come and go since it was made, but a _lady_ was in both; and while Rossitur covertly smiled, Mr. Carleton paid his sincere respect where he felt it was due. Little Fleda's quick eye hardly saw, but more than half felt, the difference. Mr.
Carleton had no more eager listener now than she, and perhaps none whose unaffected interest and sympathy gave him more pleasure.
When they rose from the table Mr. Ringgan would not be _insinuated_ into the cold front room again.
”No, no,” said he, ”what's the matter? the table? Push the table back, and let it take care of itself, ? come, gentlemen, sit down ? draw up your chairs round the fire, and a fig for ceremony! Comfort, sister Miriam, against politeness, any day in the year; don't you say so too, Fairy? Come here by me.”
”Miss Fleda,” said Mr. Carleton, ”will you take a ride with me to Montepoole to-morrow? I should like to make you acquainted with my mother.”
Fleda coloured, and looked at her grandfather.
”What do you say, deary?” he inquired fondly; ”will you go? ?
I believe, Sir, your proposal will prove a very acceptable one. You will go, wont you, Fleda?”
Fleda would very much rather not! But she was always exceedingly afraid of hurting people's feelings; she could not bear that Mr. Carleton should think she disliked to go with him, so she answered yes, in her usual sober manner.
Just then the door opened, and a man unceremoniously walked in, his entrance immediately following a little sullen knock that had made a mockery of asking permission. An ill-looking man, in the worst sense; his face being a mixture of cunning, meanness, and insolence. He shut the door, and came with a slow, leisurely step into the middle of the room, without speaking a word. Mr. Carleton saw the blank change in Fleda's face. She knew him.
”Do you wish to see me, Mr. McGowan?” said Mr. Ringgan, not without something of the same change.
”I guess I ha'n't come here for nothing,” was the gruff retort.
”Wouldn't another time answer as well?”
”I don't mean to find you here another time,” said the man, chuckling; ”I have given you notice to quit, and now I have come to tell you you'll clear out. I ain't a going to be kept out of my property for ever. If I can't get my money from you, Elzevir Ringgan, I'll see you don't get no more of it in your hands.”
”Very well, Sir,” said the old gentleman. ”You have said all that is necessary.”
”You have got to hear a little more, though,” returned the other; ”I've an idee that there's a satisfaction in speaking one's mind. I'll have that much out of you! Mr. Ringgan, a man hadn't ought to make an agreement to pay what he doesn't _mean_ to pay; and what he has made an agreement to pay, he ought to meet and be up to, if he sold his soul for it! You call yourself a Christian, do you, to stay in another man's house, month after month, when you know you ha'n't got the means to give him the rent for it! That's what _I_ call stealing; and it's what I'd live in the County House before I'd demean myself to do! and so ought you.”
”Well, well! neighbour,” said Mr. Ringgan, with patient dignity; ”it's no use calling names. You know as well as I do how all this came about. I hoped to be able to pay you, but I haven't been able to make it out, without having more time.”
”Time!” said the other. ”Time to cheat me out of a little more houseroom. If I was agoing to live on charity, Mr. Ringgan, I'd come out and say so, and not put my hand in a man's pocket this way. You'll quit the house by the day after to-morrow, or if you don't I'll let you hear a little more of me that you wont like.”
He stalked out, shutting the door after him with a bang. Mr.
Carleton had quitted the room a moment before him.
n.o.body moved or spoke at first, when the man was gone, except Miss Cynthia, who, as she was taking something from the table to the pantry, remarked, probably for Mr. Rossitur's benefit, that ”Mr. Ringgan had to have that man punished for something he did a few years ago, when he was justice of the peace, and she guessed likely that was the reason he had a grudge agin him ever since.” Beyond this piece of dubious information nothing was said. Little Fleda stood beside her grandfather, with a face of quiet distress; the tears silently running over her flushed cheeks, and her eyes fixed upon Mr. Ringgan with a tender, touching look of sympathy, most pure from self- recollection.
Mr. Carleton presently came in to take leave of the disturbed family. The old gentleman rose, and returned his shake of the hand with even a degree more than usual of his manly dignity, or Mr. Carleton thought so.
”Good day to you, Sir!” he said, heartily. ”We have had a great deal of pleasure in your society, and I shall always be very happy to see you ? wherever I am.” And then following him to the door, and wringing his hand with a force he was not at all aware of, the old gentleman added in a lower tone, ”I shall let her go with you.”
Mr. Carleton read his whole story in the stern self-command of brow, and the slight convulsion of feature, which all the self-command could not prevent. He returned warmly the grasp of the hand, answering merely, ”I will see you again.”
Fleda wound her arms round her grandfather's neck when they were gone, and did her best to comfort him, a.s.suring him that ”they would be just as happy somewhere else.” And aunt Miriam earnestly proffered her own home. But Fleda knew that her grandfather was not comforted. He stroked her head, with the same look of stern gravity and troubled emotion which had grieved her so much the other day. She could not win him to a smile, and went to bed at last, feeling desolate. She had no heart to look out at the night. The wind was sweeping by in wintry gusts; and Fleda cried herself to sleep, thinking how it would whistle round the dear old house when their ears would not be there to hear it.
CHAPTER VII.
He from his old hereditary nook Must part; the summons came, ? our final leave we took.