CHAPTER V

It is a noble thing to say that your road is forward, and it befits a man

of battles. General Ople was too loyal a gentleman to think of any other

road. Still, albeit not gifted with imagination, he could not avoid the

feeling that he had set his face to Winter. He found himself suddenly

walking straight into the heart of Winter, and a nipping Winter. For her

ladyship had proved acutely nipping. His little customary phrases, to

which Lady Camper objected, he could see no harm in whatever. Conversing

with her in the privacy of domestic life would never be the flowing

business that it is for other men. It would demand perpetual vigilance,

hop, skip, jump, flounderings, and apologies.

This was not a pleasing prospect.

On the other hand, she was the niece of an earl. She was wealthy. She

might be an excellent friend to Elizabeth; and she could be, when she

liked, both commandingly and bewitchingly ladylike.

Good! But he was a General Officer of not more than fifty-five, in his

full vigour, and she a woman of seventy!

The prospect was bleak. It resembled an outlook on the steppes. In point

of the discipline he was to expect, he might be compared to a raw

recruit, and in his own home!

However, she was a woman of mind. One would be proud of her.

But did he know the worst of her? A dreadful presentiment, that he did

not know the worst of her, rolled an ocean of gloom upon General Ople,

striking out one solitary thought in the obscurity, namely, that he was

about to receive punishment for retiring from active service to a life of

ease at a comparatively early age, when still in marching trim. And the

shadow of the thought was, that he deserved the punishment!

He was in his garden with the dawn. Hard exercise is the best of opiates

for dismal reflections. The General discomposed his daughter by offering

to accompany her on her morning ride before breakfast. She considered

that it would fatigue him. 'I am not a man of eighty!' he cried. He could

have wished he had been.

He led the way to the park, where they soon had sight of young Rolles,

who checked his horse and spied them like a vedette, but, perceiving that

he had been seen, came cantering, and hailing the General with hearty

wonderment.

'And what's this the world says, General?' said he. 'But we all applaud

your taste. My aunt Angela was the handsomest woman of her time.'

The General murmured in confusion, 'Dear me!' and looked at the young

man, thinking that he could not have known the time.

'Is all arranged, my dear General?'

'Nothing is arranged, and I beg--I say I beg . . . I came out for fresh

air and pace.'..

The General rode frantically.

In spite of the fresh air, he was unable to eat at breakfast. He was

bound, of course, to present himself to Lady Camper, in common civility,

immediately after it.

And first, what were the phrases he had to avoid uttering in her

presence? He could remember only the 'gentlemanly residence.' And it was

a gentlemanly residence, he thought as he took leave of it. It was one,

neatly named to fit the place. Lady Camper is indeed a most eccentric

person! he decided from his experience of her.

He was rather astonished that young Rolles should have spoken so coolly

of his aunt's leaning to matrimony; but perhaps her exact age was unknown

to the younger members of her family.

This idea refreshed him by suggesting the extremely honourable nature of

Lady Camper's uncomfortable confession.

He himself had an uncomfortable confession to make. He would have to

speak of his income. He was living up to the edges of it.

She is an upright woman, and I must be the same! he said, fortunately not

in her hearing.

The subject was disagreeable to a man sensitive on the topic of money,

and feeling that his prudence had recently been misled to keep up

appearances.

Lady Camper was in her garden, reclining under her parasol. A chair was

beside her, to which, acknowledging the salutation of her suitor, she

waved him.

'You have met my nephew Reginald this morning, General?'

'Curiously, in the park, this morning, before breakfast, I did, yes. Hem!

I, I say I did meet him. Has your ladyship seen him?'

'No. The park is very pretty in the early morning.'

'Sweetly pretty.'

Lady Camper raised her head, and with the mildness of assured

dictatorship, pronounced: 'Never say that before me.'

'I submit, my lady,' said the poor scourged man.

'Why, naturally you do. Vulgar phrases have to be endured, except when

our intimates are guilty, and then we are not merely offended, we are

compromised by them. You are still of the mind in which you left me

yesterday? You are one day older. But I warn you, so am I.'

'Yes, my lady, we cannot, I say we cannot check time. Decidedly of the

same mind. Quite so.'

'Oblige me by never saying "Quite so." My lawyer says it. It reeks of the

City of London. And do not look so miserable.'

'I, madam? my dear lady!' the General flashed out in a radiance that

dulled instantly.

'Well,' said she cheerfully, 'and you're for the old woman?'

'For Lady Camper.'

'You are seductive in your flatteries, General. Well, then, we have to

speak of business.'

'My affairs----' General Ople was beginning, with perturbed forehead; but

Lady Camper held up her finger.

'We will touch on your affairs incidentally. Now listen to me, and do not

exclaim until I have finished. You know that these two young ones have

been whispering over the wall for some months. They have been meeting on

the river and in the park habitually, apparently with your consent.'

'My lady!'

'I did not say with your connivance.'

'You mean my daughter Elizabeth?'

'And my nephew Reginald. We have named them, if that advances us. Now,

the end of such meetings is marriage, and the sooner the better, if they

are to continue. I would rather they should not; I do not hold it good

for young soldiers to marry. But if they do, it is very certain that

their pay will not support a family; and in a marriage of two healthy

young people, we have to assume the existence of the family. You have

allowed matters to go so far that the boy is hot in love; I suppose the

girl is, too. She is a nice girl. I do not object to her personally. But

I insist that a settlement be made on her before I give my nephew one

penny. Hear me out, for I am not fond of business, and shall be glad to

have done with these explanations. Reginald has nothing of his own. He is

my sister's son, and I loved her, and rather like the boy. He has at

present four hundred a year from me. I will double it, on the condition

that you at once make over ten thousand--not less; and let it be yes or

no!--to be settled on your daughter and go to her children, independent

of the husband--cela va sans dire. Now you may speak, General.'

The General spoke, with breath fetched from the deeps:

'Ten thousand pounds! Hem! Ten! Hem, frankly--ten, my lady! One's

income--I am quite taken by surprise. I say Elizabeth's conduct--though,

poor child! it is natural to her to seek a mate, I mean, to accept a mate

and an establishment, and Reginald is a very hopeful fellow--I was

saying, they jump on me out of an ambush, and I wish them every

happiness. And she is an ardent soldier, and a soldier she must marry.

But ten thousand!'

'It is to secure the happiness of your daughter, General.'

'Pounds! my lady. It would rather cripple me.'

'You would have my house, General; you would have the moiety, as the

lawyers say, of my purse; you would have horses, carriages, servants; I

do not divine what more you would wish to have.'

'But, madam--a pensioner on the Government! I can look back on past

services, I say old services, and I accept my position. But, madam, a

pensioner on my wife, bringing next to nothing to the common estate! I

fear my self-respect would, I say would . . .'

'Well, and what would it do, General Ople?'

'I was saying, my self-respect as my wife's pensioner, my lady. I could

not come to her empty-handed.'

'Do you expect that I should be the person to settle money on your

daughter, to save her from mischances? A rakish husband, for example; for

Reginald is young, and no one can guess what will be made of him.'

'Undoubtedly your ladyship is correct. We might try absence for the poor

girl. I have no female relation, but I could send her to the sea-side to

a lady-friend.'

'General Ople, I forbid you, as you value my esteem, ever--and I repeat,

I forbid you ever--to afflict my ears with that phrase, "lady-friend!"'

The General blinked in a state of insurgent humility.

These incessant whippings could not but sting the humblest of men; and

'lady-friend,' he was sure, was a very common term, used, he was sure, in

the very best society. He had never heard Her Majesty speak at levees of

a lady-friend, but he was quite sure that she had one; and if so, what

could be the objection to her subjects mentioning it as a term to suit

their own circumstances?

He was harassed and perplexed by old Lady Camper's treatment of him, and

he resolved not to call her Angela even upon supplication--not that day,

at least.

She said, 'You will not need to bring property of any kind to the common

estate; I neither look for it nor desire it. The generous thing for you

to do would be to give your daughter all you have, and come to me.'

'But, Lady Camper, if I denude myself or curtail my income--a man at his

wife's discretion, I was saying a man at his wife's mercy . . . !'

General Ople was really forced, by his manly dignity, to make this

protest on its behalf. He did not see how he could have escaped doing so;

he was more an agent than a principal. 'My wife's mercy,' he said again,

but simply as a herald proclaiming superior orders.

Lady Camper's brows were wrathful. A deep blood-crimson overcame the

rouge, and gave her a terrible stormy look.

'The congress now ceases to sit, and the treaty is not concluded,' was

all she said.

She rose, bowed to him, 'Good morning, General,' and turned her back.

He sighed. He was a free man. But this could not be denied--whatever the

lady's age, she was a grand woman in her carriage, and when looking

angry, she had a queenlike aspect that raised her out of the reckoning of

time.

So now he knew there was a worse behind what he had previously known. He

was precipitate in calling it the worst. 'Now,' said he to himself, 'I

know the worst!'

No man should ever say it. Least of all, one who has entered into

relations with an eccentric lady.