CHAPTER XII.

Hehadmoretowonhisdistaffe ThanGerveisknew. —CHAUCER. TheridetoStoneCourt,whichFredandRosamondtookthenextmorning,laythroughaprettybitofmidlandlandscape,almostallmeadowsandpastures,withhedgerowsstillallowedtogrowinbushybeautyandtospreadoutcoralfruitforthebirds.Littledetailsgaveeachfieldaparticularphysiognomy,deartotheeyesthathavelookedonthemfromchildhood:thepoolinthecornerwherethegrassesweredankandtreesleanedwhisperinglythegreatoakshadowingabareplaceinmid-pasturethehighbankwheretheash-treesgrewthesuddenslopeoftheoldmarl-pitmakingaredbackgroundfortheburdockthehuddledroofsandricksofthehomesteadwithoutatraceablewayofapproachthegraygateandfencesagainstthedepthsoftheborderingwoodandthestrayhovel,itsold,oldthatchfullofmossyhillsandvalleyswithwondrousmodulationsoflightandshadowsuchaswetravelfartoseeinlaterlife,andseelarger,butnotmorebeautiful.Thesearethethingsthatmakethegamutofjoyinlandscapetomidland-bredsouls—thethingstheytoddledamong,orperhapslearnedbyheartstandingbetweentheirfather’skneeswhilehedroveleisurely. Buttheroad,eventhebyroad,wasexcellentforLowick,aswehaveseen,wasnotaparishofmuddylanesandpoortenantsanditwasintoLowickparishthatFredandRosamondenteredafteracoupleofmiles’riding.AnothermilewouldbringthemtoStoneCourt,andattheendofthefirsthalf,thehousewasalreadyvisible,lookingasifithadbeenarrestedinitsgrowthtowardastonemansionbyanunexpectedbuddingoffarm-buildingsonitsleftflank,whichhadhindereditfrombecominganythingmorethanthesubstantialdwellingofagentlemanfarmer.Itwasnotthelessagreeableanobjectinthedistancefortheclusterofpinnacledcorn-rickswhichbalancedthefinerowofwalnutsontheright. Presentlyitwaspossibletodiscernsomethingthatmightbeagigonthecirculardrivebeforethefrontdoor. “Dearme,”saidRosamond,“Ihopenoneofmyuncle’shorriblerelationsarethere.” “Theyare,though.ThatisMrs.Waule’sgig—thelastyellowgigleft,Ishouldthink.WhenIseeMrs.Wauleinit,Iunderstandhowyellowcanhavebeenwornformourning.Thatgigseemstomemorefunerealthanahearse.ButthenMrs.Waulealwayshasblackcrapeon.Howdoesshemanageit,Rosy?Herfriendscan’talwaysbedying.” “Idon’tknowatall.Andsheisnotintheleastevangelical,”saidRosamond,reflectively,asifthatreligiouspointofviewwouldhavefullyaccountedforperpetualcrape.“And,notpoor,”sheadded,afteramoment’spause. “No,byGeorge!TheyareasrichasJews,thoseWaulesandFeatherstonesImean,forpeoplelikethem,whodon’twanttospendanything.Andyettheyhangaboutmyunclelikevultures,andareafraidofafarthinggoingawayfromtheirsideofthefamily.ButIbelievehehatesthemall.” TheMrs.Waulewhowassofarfrombeingadmirableintheeyesofthesedistantconnections,hadhappenedtosaythisverymorning(notatallwithadefiantair,butinalow,muffled,neutraltone,asofavoiceheardthroughcottonwool)thatshedidnotwish“toenjoytheirgoodopinion.”Shewasseated,assheobserved,onherownbrother’shearth,andhadbeenJaneFeatherstonefive-and-twentyyearsbeforeshehadbeenJaneWaule,whichentitledhertospeakwhenherownbrother’snamehadbeenmadefreewithbythosewhohadnorighttoit. “Whatareyoudrivingatthere?”saidMr.Featherstone,holdinghisstickbetweenhiskneesandsettlinghiswig,whilehegaveheramomentarysharpglance,whichseemedtoreactonhimlikeadraughtofcoldairandsethimcoughing. Mrs.Waulehadtodeferheranswertillhewasquietagain,tillMaryGarthhadsuppliedhimwithfreshsyrup,andhehadbeguntorubthegoldknobofhisstick,lookingbitterlyatthefire.Itwasabrightfire,butitmadenodifferencetothechill-lookingpurplishtintofMrs.Waule’sface,whichwasasneutralashervoicehavingmerechinksforeyes,andlipsthathardlymovedinspeaking. “Thedoctorscan’tmasterthatcough,brother.It’sjustlikewhatIhaveforI’myourownsister,constitutionandeverything.But,asIwassaying,it’sapityMrs.Vincy’sfamilycan’tbebetterconducted.” “Tchah!yousaidnothingo’thesort.Yousaidsomebodyhadmadefreewithmyname.” “Andnomorethancanbeproved,ifwhateverybodysaysistrue.MybrotherSolomontellsmeit’sthetalkupanddowninMiddlemarchhowunsteadyyoungVincyis,andhasbeenforevergamblingatbilliardssincehomehecame.” “Nonsense!What’sagameatbilliards?It’sagoodgentlemanlygameandyoungVincyisnotaclodhopper.IfyoursonJohntooktobilliards,now,he’dmakeafoolofhimself.” “YournephewJohnnevertooktobilliardsoranyothergame,brother,andisfarfromlosinghundredsofpounds,which,ifwhateverybodysaysistrue,mustbefoundsomewhereelsethanoutofMr.Vincythefather’spocket.Fortheysayhe’sbeenlosingmoneyforyears,thoughnobodywouldthinkso,toseehimgocoursingandkeepingopenhouseastheydo.AndI’veheardsayMr.BulstrodecondemnsMrs.Vincybeyondanythingforherflightiness,andspoilingherchildrenso.” “What’sBulstrodetome?Idon’tbankwithhim.” “Well,Mrs.BulstrodeisMr.Vincy’sownsister,andtheydosaythatMr.VincymostlytradesontheBankmoneyandyoumayseeyourself,brother,whenawomanpastfortyhaspinkstringsalwaysflying,andthatlightwayoflaughingateverything,it’sveryunbecoming.Butindulgingyourchildrenisonething,andfindingmoneytopaytheirdebtsisanother.Andit’sopenlysaidthatyoungVincyhasraisedmoneyonhisexpectations.Idon’tsaywhatexpectations.MissGarthhearsme,andiswelcometotellagain.Iknowyoungpeoplehangtogether.” “No,thankyou,Mrs.Waule,”saidMaryGarth.“Idislikehearingscandaltoomuchtowishtorepeatit.” Mr.Featherstonerubbedtheknobofhisstickandmadeabriefconvulsiveshowoflaughter,whichhadmuchthesamegenuinenessasanoldwhist-player’schuckleoverabadhand.Stilllookingatthefire,hesaid— “AndwhopretendstosayFredVincyhasn’tgotexpectations?Suchafine,spiritedfellowislikeenoughtohave’em.” TherewasaslightpausebeforeMrs.Waulereplied,andwhenshedidso,hervoiceseemedtobeslightlymoistenedwithtears,thoughherfacewasstilldry. “Whetherorno,brother,itisnaturallypainfultomeandmybrotherSolomontohearyournamemadefreewith,andyourcomplaintbeingsuchasmaycarryyouoffsudden,andpeoplewhoarenomoreFeatherstonesthantheMerry-Andrewatthefair,openlyreckoningonyourpropertycomingtothem.Andmeyourownsister,andSolomonyourownbrother!Andifthat’stobeit,whathasitpleasedtheAlmightytomakefamiliesfor?”HereMrs.Waule’stearsfell,butwithmoderation. “Come,outwithit,Jane!”saidMr.Featherstone,lookingather.“Youmeantosay,FredVincyhasbeengettingsomebodytoadvancehimmoneyonwhathesaysheknowsaboutmywill,eh?” “Ineversaidso,brother”(Mrs.Waule’svoicehadagainbecomedryandunshaken).“ItwastoldmebymybrotherSolomonlastnightwhenhecalledcomingfrommarkett