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Miss Mackenzie, a novel by Anthony Trollope |
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Chapter 10. Plenary Absolutions |
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_ CHAPTER X. Plenary Absolutions The letter which Miss Mackenzie received was from old Mr Slow, her lawyer; and it was a very unpleasant letter. It was so unpleasant that it made her ears tingle when she read it and remembered that the person to whom special allusion was made was one whom she had taught herself to regard as her friend. Mr Slow's letter was as follows: DEAR MADAM, I think it proper to write to you specially, about the I have seen both Mr Mackenzie and Mr Rubb, junior. As There can be no doubt that deceit has been used towards I am, dear Madam, JONATHAN SLOW.
Miss Mackenzie at once made up her mind that her money was gone! But, in truth, this did not much annoy her. She had declared to herself once before that if anything was wrong about the money she would regard it as a present made to her brother; and when so thinking of it, she had, undoubtedly, felt that it was, not improbably, lost to her. It was something over a hundred a year to be deducted from her computed income, but she would still be able to live at the Paragon quite as well as she had intended, and be able also to educate Susanna. Indeed, she could do this easily and still save money, and, therefore, as regarded the probable loss, why need she be unhappy? Before the morning was over she had succeeded in white-washing Mr Rubb in her own mind. It is, I think, certainly the fact that women are less pervious to ideas of honesty than men are. They are less shocked by dishonesty when they find it, and are less clear in their intellect as to that which constitutes honesty. Where is the woman who thinks it wrong to smuggle? What lady's conscience ever pricked her in that she omitted the armorial bearings on her silver forks from her tax papers? What wife ever ceased to respect her husband because he dealt dishonestly in business? Whereas, let him not go to church, let him drink too much wine, let him go astray in his conversation, and her wrath arises against these faults. But this lack of feminine accuracy in the matter of honesty tends rather to charity in their judgment of others, than to deeds of fraud on the part of women themselves. Miss Mackenzie, who desired nothing that was not her own, who scrupulously kept her own hands from all picking and stealing, gave herself no peace, after reading the lawyer's letter, till she was able to tell herself that Mr Rubb was to be forgiven for what he had done. After all, he had, no doubt, intended that she should have the promised security. And had not he himself come to her in London and told her the whole truth,--or, if not the whole truth, as much of it as was reasonable to expect that he should be able to tell her at an evening party after dinner? Of course Mr Slow was hard upon him. Lawyers always were hard. If she chose to give Messrs Rubb and Mackenzie two thousand five hundred pounds out of her pocket, what was that to him? So she went on, till at last she was angry with Mr Slow for the language he had used. It was, however, before all things necessary that she should put Mr Slow right as to the facts of the case. She had, no doubt, condoned whatever Mr Rubb had done. Mr Rubb undoubtedly had her sanction for keeping her money without security. Therefore, by return of post, she wrote the following short letter, which rather astonished Mr Slow when he received it-- DEAR SIR, I am much obliged by your letter about the money; but the Believe me to be, MARGARET MACKENZIE.
Mr Slow was surprised and annoyed. As regarded his comfort as a lawyer, his client's letter was of course satisfactory. It absolved him not only from all absolute responsibility, but also from the feeling which no doubt had existed within his own breast, that he had in some sort neglected the lady's interest. But, nevertheless, he was annoyed. He did not believe the statement that Rubb and Mackenzie had had permission to hold the money without mortgage, and thought that neither of the partners had themselves so conceived when he had seen them. They had, however, been too many for him--and too many also for the poor female who had allowed herself to be duped out of her money. Such were Mr Slow's feelings on the matter, and then he dismissed the subject from his mind. The next day, about noon, Miss Mackenzie was startled almost out of her propriety by the sudden announcement at the drawing-room door of Mr Rubb. Before she could bethink herself how she would behave herself, or whether it would become her to say anything of Mr Slow's letter to her, he was in the room. "Miss Mackenzie," he said, hurriedly--and yet he had paused for a moment in his hurry till the servant had shut the door--"may I shake hands with you?" There could, Miss Mackenzie thought, be no objection to so ordinary a ceremony; and, therefore, she said, "Certainly," and gave him her hand. "Then I am myself again," said Mr Rubb; and having so said, he sat down. Miss Mackenzie hoped that there was nothing the matter with him, and then she also sat down at a considerable distance. "There is nothing the matter with me," said he, "as you are still so kind to me. But tell me, have you not received a letter from your lawyer?" "Yes, I have." "And he has done all in his power to blacken me? I know it. Tell me, Miss Mackenzie, has he not blackened me? Has he not laid things to my charge of which I am incapable? Has he not accused me of getting money from you under false pretences,--than do which, I'd sooner have seen my own brains blown out? I would, indeed." "He has written to me about the money, Mr Rubb." "Yes; he came to me, and behaved shamefully to me; and he saw your brother, too, and has been making all manner of ignominious inquiries. Those lawyers can never understand that there can be anything of friendly feeling about money. They can't put friendly feelings into their unconscionable bills. I believe the world would go on better if there was no such thing as an attorney in it. I wonder who invented them, and why?" Miss Mackenzie could give him no information on this point, and therefore he went on: "But you must tell me what he has said, and what it is he wants us to do. For your sake, if you ask us, Miss Mackenzie, we'll do anything. We'll sell the coats off our backs, if you wish it. You shall never lose one shilling by Rubb and Mackenzie as long as I have anything to do with the firm. But I'm sure you will excuse me if I say that we can do nothing at the bidding of that old cormorant." "I don't know that there's anything to be done, Mr Rubb." "Is not there? Well, it's very generous in you to say so; and you always are generous. I've always told your brother, since I had the honour of knowing you, that he had a sister to be proud of. And, Miss Mackenzie, I'll say more than that; I've flattered myself that I've had a friend to be proud of. But now I must tell you why I've come down to-day; you know I was to have been here next week. Well, when Mr Slow came to me and I found what was up, I said to myself at once that it was right you should know exactly--exactly--how the matter stands. I was going to explain it next week, but I wouldn't leave you in suspense when I knew that that lawyer was going to trouble you." "It hasn't troubled me, Mr Rubb." "Hasn't it though, really? That's so good of you again! Now the truth is--but it's pretty nearly just what I told you that day after dinner, when you agreed, you know, to what we had done." Here he paused, as though expecting an answer. "Yes, I did agree." "Just at present, while certain other parties have a right to hold the title-deeds, and I can't quite say how long that may be, we cannot execute a mortgage in your favour. The title-deeds represent the property. Perhaps you don't know that." "Oh yes, I know as much as that." "Well then, as we haven't the title-deeds, we can't execute the mortgage. Perhaps you'll say you ought to have the title-deeds." "No, Mr Rubb, I don't want to say anything of the kind. If my money can be of any assistance to my brother--to my brother and you--you are welcome to the use of it, without any mortgage. I will show you a copy of the letter I sent to Mr Slow." "Thanks; a thousand thanks! and may I see the letter which Mr Slow wrote?" "No, I think not. I don't know whether it would be right to show it to you." "I shouldn't think of doing anything about it; that is, resenting it, you know. Only then we should all be on the square together." "I think I'd better not. Mr Slow, when he wrote it, probably did not mean that I should show it to you." "You're right; you're always right. But you'll let me see your answer." Then Miss Mackenzie went to her desk, and brought him a copy of the note she had written to the lawyer. He read it very carefully, twice over; and then she could see, when he refolded the paper, that his eyes were glittering with satisfaction. "Miss Mackenzie, Miss Mackenzie," he said, "I think that you are an angel!" And he did think so. In so much at that moment he was at any rate sincere. She saw that he was pleased, and she was pleased herself. "There need be no further trouble about it," she said; and as she spoke she rose from her seat. And he rose, too, and came close to her. He came close to her, hesitated for a moment, and then, putting one hand behind her waist, though barely touching her, he took her hand with his other hand. She thought that he was going to kiss her lips, and for a moment or two he thought so too; but either his courage failed him or else his discretion prevailed. Whether it was the one or the other, must depend on the way in which she would have taken it. As it was, he merely raised her hand and kissed that. When she could look into his face his eyes were full of tears. "The truth is," said he, "that you have saved us from ruin;--that's the real truth. Damn all lying!" She started at the oath, but in an instant she had forgiven him that too. There was a sound of reality about it, which reconciled her to the indignity; though, had she been true to her faith as a Stumfoldian, she ought at least to have fainted at the sound. "I hardly know what I am saying, Miss Mackenzie, and I beg your pardon; but the fact is you could sell us up if you pleased. I didn't mean it when I first got your brother to agree as to asking you for the loan; I didn't indeed; but things were going wrong with us, and just at that moment they went more wrong than ever; and then came the temptation, and we were able to make everything right by giving up the title-deeds of the premises. That's how it was, and it was I that did it. It wasn't your brother; and though you may forgive me, he won't." This was all true, but how far the truth should be taken towards palliating the deed done, I must leave the reader to decide; and the reader will doubtless perceive that the truth did not appear until Mr Rubb had ascertained that its appearance would not injure him. I think, however, that it came from his heart, and that it should count for something in his favour. The tear which he rubbed from his eye with his hand counted very much in his favour with Miss Mackenzie; she had not only forgiven him now, but she almost loved him for having given her something to forgive. With many women I doubt whether there be any more effectual way of touching their hearts than ill-using them and then confessing it. If you wish to get the sweetest fragrance from the herb at your feet, tread on it and bruise it. She had forgiven him, and taken him absolutely into favour, and he had kissed her hand, having all but embraced her as he did so; but on the present occasion he did not get beyond that. He lacked the audacity to proceed at once from the acknowledgment of his fault to a declaration of his love; but I hardly think that he would have injured himself had he done so. He should have struck while the iron was hot, and it was heated now nearly to melting; but he was abashed by his own position, and having something real in his heart, having some remnant of generous feeling left about him, he could not make such progress as he might have done had he been cool enough to calculate all his advantages. "Don't let it trouble you any more," Miss Mackenzie said, when he had dropped her hand. "But it does trouble me, and it will trouble me." "No," she said, with energy, "it shall not; let there be an end of it. I will write to Tom, and tell him that he is welcome to the money. Isn't he my brother? You are both welcome to it. If it has been of service to you, I am very happy that it should be so. And now, Mr Rubb, if you please, we won't have another word about it." "What am I to say?" "Not another word." It seemed as though he couldn't speak another word, for he went to the window and stood there silently, looking into the street. As he did so, there came another visitor to Miss Mackenzie, whose ringing at the doorbell had not been noticed by them, and Miss Baker was announced while Mr Rubb was still getting the better of his feelings. Of course he turned round when he heard the lady's name, and of course he was introduced by his hostess. Miss Mackenzie was obliged to make some apology for the gentleman's presence. "Mr Rubb was expected next week, but business brought him down to-day unexpectedly." "Quite unexpectedly," said Mr Rubb, making a violent endeavour to recover his equanimity. Miss Baker looked at Mr Rubb, and disliked him at once. It should be remembered that she was twenty years older than Miss Mackenzie, and that she regarded the stranger, therefore, with a saner and more philosophical judgment than her friend could use,--with a judgment on which the outward comeliness of the man had no undue influence; and it should be remembered also that Miss Baker, from early age, and by all the association of her youth, had been taught to know a gentleman when she saw him. Miss Mackenzie, who was by nature the cleverer woman of the two, watched her friend's face, and saw by a glance that she did not like Mr Rubb, and then, within her own bosom, she called her friend an old maid. "We're having uncommonly fine weather for the time of year," said Mr Rubb. "Very fine weather," said Miss Baker. "I've called, my dear, to know whether you'll go in with me next door and drink tea this evening?" "What, with Miss Todd?" asked Miss Mackenzie, who was surprised at the invitation. "Yes, with Miss Todd. It is not one of her regular nights, you know, and her set won't be there. She has some old friends with her,--a Mr Wilkinson, a clergyman, and his wife. It seems that her old enemy and your devoted slave, Mr Maguire, knows Mr Wilkinson, and he's going to be there." "Mr Maguire is no slave of mine, Miss Baker." "I thought he was; at any rate his presence will be a guarantee that Miss Todd will be on her best behaviour, and that you needn't be afraid." "I'm not afraid of anything of that sort." "But will you go?" "Oh, yes, if you are going." "That's right; and I'll call for you as I pass by. I must see her now, and tell her. Good-morning, Sir;" whereupon Miss Baker bowed very stiffly to Mr Rubb. "Good-morning, Ma'am," said Mr Rubb, bowing very stiffly to Miss Baker. When the lady was gone, Mr Rubb sat himself again down on the sofa, and there he remained for the next half-hour. He talked about the business of the firm, saying how it would now certainly be improved; and he talked about Tom Mackenzie's family, saying what a grand thing it was for Susanna to be thus taken in hand by her aunt; and he asked a question or two about Miss Baker, and then a question or two about Mr Maguire, during which questions he learned that Mr Maguire was not as yet a married man; and from Mr Maguire he got on to the Stumfolds, and learned somewhat of the rites and ceremonies of the Stumfoldian faith. In this way he prolonged his visit till Miss Mackenzie began to feel that he ought to take his leave. Miss Baker had gone at once to Miss Todd, and had told that lady that Miss Mackenzie would join her tea-party. She had also told how Mr Rubb, of the firm of Rubb and Mackenzie, was at this moment in Miss Mackenzie's drawing-room. "I'll ask him to come, too," said Miss Todd. Then Miss Baker had hesitated, and had looked grave. "What's the matter?" said Miss Todd. "I'm not quite sure you'll like him," said Miss Baker. "Probably not," said Miss Todd; "I don't like half the people I meet, but that's no reason I shouldn't ask him." "But he is--that is, he is not exactly--" "What is he, and what is he not, exactly?" asked Miss Todd. "Why, he is a tradesman, you know," said Miss Baker. "There's no harm that I know of in that," said Miss Todd. "My uncle that left me my money was a tradesman." "No," said Miss Baker, energetically; "he was a merchant in Liverpool." "You'll find it very hard to define the difference, my dear," said Miss Todd. "At any rate I'll ask the man to come;--that is, if it won't offend you." "It won't in the least offend me," said Miss Baker. So a note was at once written and sent in to Miss Mackenzie, in which she was asked to bring Mr Rubb with her on that evening. When the note reached Miss Mackenzie, Mr Rubb was still with her. Of course she communicated to him the invitation. She wished that it had not been sent; she wished that he would not accept it,--though on that head she had no doubt; but she had not sufficient presence of mind to keep the matter to herself and say nothing about it. Of course he was only too glad to drink tea with Miss Todd. Miss Mackenzie attempted some slight manoeuvre to induce Mr Rubb to go direct to Miss Todd's house; but he was not such an ass as that; he knew his advantage, and kept it, insisting on his privilege of coming there, to Miss Mackenzie's room, and escorting her. He would have to escort Miss Baker also; and things, as he thought, were looking well with him. At last he rose to go, but he made good use of the privilege of parting. He held Miss Mackenzie's hand, and pressed it. "You mustn't be angry," he said, "if I tell you that you are the best friend I have in the world." "You have better friends than me," she said, "and older friends." "Yes; older friends; but none,--not one, who has done for me so much as you have; and certainly none for whom I have so great a regard. May God bless you, Miss Mackenzie!" "May God bless you, too, Mr Rubb!" What else could she say? When his civility took so decorous a shape, she could not bear to be less civil than he had been, or less decorous. And yet it seemed to her that in bidding God bless him with that warm pressure of the hand, she had allowed to escape from her an appearance of affection which she had not intended to exhibit. "Thank you; thank you," said he; and then at last he went. She seated herself slowly in her own chair near the window,--the chair in which she was accustomed to sit for many solitary hours, and asked herself what it all meant. Was she allowing herself to fall in love with Mr Rubb, and if so, was it well that it should be so? This would be bringing to the sternest proof of reality her philosophical theory on social life. It was all very well for her to hold a bold opinion in discussions with Miss Baker as to a "man being a man for a' that," even though he might not be a gentleman; but was she prepared to go the length of preferring such a man to all the world? Was she ready to go down among the Rubbs, for now and ever, and give up the society of such women as Miss Baker? She knew that it was necessary that she should come to some resolve on the matter, as Mr Rubb's purpose was becoming too clear to her. When an unmarried gentleman of forty tells an unmarried lady of thirty-six that she is the dearest friend he has in the world, he must surely intend that they shall, neither of them, remain unmarried any longer. Then she thought also of her cousin, John Ball; and some vague shadow of thought passed across her mind also in respect of the Rev. Mr Maguire. _ |