Doctor Thorne - Anthony Trollope (historical books to read .txt) 📗

more sensibly the value

of that high position which you will preserve by rejecting

Mr Gazebee, and will regret less acutely whatever you may

lose.

 

Your very affectionate cousin,

 

AMELIA DE COURCY.

 

P.S.—I am greatly grieved about Frank; but I have long

feared that he would do some very silly thing. I have

heard lately that Miss Mary Thorne is not even the

legitimate niece of your Dr Thorne, but is the daughter

of some poor creature who was seduced by the doctor, in

Barchester. I do not know how true this may be, but I

think your brother should be put on his guard: it might do

good.

 

Poor Augusta! She was in truth to be pitied, for her efforts were

made with the intention of doing right according to her lights. For

Mr Moffat she had never cared a straw; and when, therefore, she lost

the piece of gilding for which she had been instructed by her mother

to sell herself, it was impossible to pity her. But Mr Gazebee she

would have loved with that sort of love which it was in her power

to bestow. With him she would have been happy, respectable, and

contented.

 

She had written her letter with great care. When the offer was made

to her, she could not bring herself to throw Lady Amelia to the winds

and marry the man, as it were, out of her own head. Lady Amelia had

been the tyrant of her life, and so she strove hard to obtain her

tyrant’s permission. She used all her little cunning in showing

that, after all, Mr Gazebee was not so very plebeian. All her little

cunning was utterly worthless. Lady Amelia’s mind was too strong to

be caught with such chaff. Augusta could not serve God and Mammon.

She must either be true to the god of her cousin’s idolatry, and

remain single, or serve the Mammon of her own inclinations, and marry

Mr Gazebee.

 

When refolding her cousin’s letter, after the first perusal, she did

for a moment think of rebellion. Could she not be happy at the nice

place in Surrey, having, as she would have, a carriage, even though

all the de Courcys should drop her? It had been put to her that

she would not like to be received at Courcy Castle with the scant

civility which would be considered due to a Mrs Mortimer Gazebee; but

what if she could put up without being received at Courcy Castle at

all? Such ideas did float through her mind, dimly.

 

But her courage failed her. It is so hard to throw off a tyrant; so

much easier to yield, when we have been in the habit of yielding.

This third letter, therefore, was written; and it is the end of the

correspondence.

 

Miss Augusta Gresham to Lady Amelia de Courcy

 

Greshamsbury House, July, 185—.

 

MY DEAREST AMELIA,

 

I did not answer your letter before, because I thought it

better to delay doing so till Mr Gazebee had been here.

He came the day before yesterday, and yesterday I did,

as nearly as possible, what you advised. Perhaps, on

the whole, it will be better. As you say, rank has its

responsibilities as well as its privileges.

 

I don’t quite understand what you mean about clergymen,

but we can talk that over when we meet. Indeed, it seems

to me that if one is to be particular about family—and

I am sure I think we ought—one ought to be so without

exception. If Mr Oriel be a parvenu, Beatrice’s

children won’t be well born merely because their father

was a clergyman, even though he is a rector. Since

my former letter, I have heard that Mr Gazebee’s

great-great-great-grandfather established the firm; and

there are many people who were nobodies then who are

thought to have good blood in their veins now.

 

But I do not say this because I differ from you. I agree

with you so fully, that I at once made up my mind to

reject the man; and, consequently, I have done so.

 

When I told him I could not accept him from family

considerations, he asked me whether I had spoken to papa.

I told him, no; and that it would be no good, as I had

made up my own mind. I don’t think he quite understood me;

but it did not perhaps much matter. You told me to be very

cold, and I think that perhaps he thought me less gracious

than before. Indeed, I fear that when he first spoke,

I may seem to have given him too much encouragement.

However, it is all over now; quite over! [As Augusta wrote

this, she barely managed to save the paper beneath her

hand from being moistened with the tear which escaped from

her eye.]

 

I do not mind confessing now, [she continued] at any rate

to you, that I did like Mr Gazebee a little. I think his

temper and disposition would have suited me. But I am

quite satisfied that I have done right. He tried very hard

to make me change my mind. That is, he said a great many

things as to whether I would not put off my decision. But

I was quite firm. I must say that he behaved very well,

and that I really do think he liked me honestly and truly;

but, of course, I could not sacrifice family

considerations on that account.

 

Yes, rank has its responsibilities as well as its

privileges. I will remember that. It is necessary to do

so, as otherwise one would be without consolation for what

one has to suffer. For I find that one has to suffer,

Amelia. I know papa would have advised me to marry this

man; and so, I dare say, mamma would, and Frank, and

Beatrice, if they knew that I liked him. It would not be

so bad if we all thought alike about it; but it is hard to

have the responsibilities all on one’s own shoulder; is it

not?

 

But I will go over to you, and you will comfort me. I

always feel stronger on this subject at Courcy than at

Greshamsbury. We will have a long talk about it, and then

I shall be happy again. I purpose going on next Friday, if

that will suit you and dear aunt. I have told mamma that

you all wanted me, and she made no objection. Do write at

once, dearest Amelia, for to hear from you now will be my

only comfort.

 

Yours, ever most affectionately and obliged,

 

AUGUSTA GRESHAM.

 

P.S.—I told mamma what you said about Mary Thorne, and

she said, “Yes; I suppose all the world knows it now; and

if all the world did know it, it makes no difference to

Frank.” She seemed very angry; so you see it was true.

 

Though, by so doing, we shall somewhat anticipate the end of our

story, it may be desirable that the full tale of Mr Gazebee’s loves

should be told here. When Mary is breaking her heart on her deathbed

in the last chapter, or otherwise accomplishing her destiny, we shall

hardly find a fit opportunity of saying much about Mr Gazebee and his

aristocratic bride.

 

For he did succeed at last in obtaining a bride in whose veins ran

the noble ichor of de Courcy blood, in spite of the high doctrine

preached so eloquently by the Lady Amelia. As Augusta had truly said,

he had failed to understand her. He was led to think, by her manner

of receiving his first proposal—and justly so, enough—that she

liked him, and would accept him; and he was, therefore, rather

perplexed by his second interview. He tried again and again, and

begged permission to mention the matter to Mr Gresham; but Augusta

was very firm, and he at last retired in disgust. Augusta went to

Courcy Castle, and received from her cousin that consolation and

re-strengthening which she so much required.

 

Four years afterwards—long after the fate of Mary Thorne had fallen,

like a thunderbolt, on the inhabitants of Greshamsbury; when Beatrice

was preparing for her second baby, and each of the twins had her

accepted lover—Mr Mortimer Gazebee went down to Courcy Castle; of

course, on matters of business. No doubt he dined at the table, and

all that. We have the word of Lady Amelia, that the earl, with his

usual good-nature, allowed him such privileges. Let us hope that he

never encroached on them.

 

But on this occasion, Mr Gazebee stayed a long time at the castle,

and singular rumours as to the cause of his prolonged visit became

current in the little town. No female scion of the present family of

Courcy had, as yet, found a mate. We may imagine that eagles find it

difficult to pair when they become scarce in their localities; and

we all know how hard it has sometimes been to get comme il faut

husbands when there has been any number of Protestant princesses on

hand.

 

Some such difficulty had, doubtless, brought it about that the

countess was still surrounded by her full bevy of maidens. Rank has

its responsibilities as well as its privileges, and these young

ladies’ responsibilities seemed to have consisted in rejecting any

suitor who may have hitherto kneeled to them. But now it was told

through Courcy, that one suitor had kneeled, and not in vain; from

Courcy the rumour flew to Barchester, and thence came down to

Greshamsbury, startling the inhabitants, and making one poor heart

throb with a violence that would have been piteous had it been known.

The suitor, so named, was Mr Mortimer Gazebee.

 

Yes; Mr Mortimer Gazebee had now awarded to him many other privileges

than those of dining at the table, and all that. He rode with the

young ladies in the park, and they all talked to him very familiarly

before company; all except the Lady Amelia. The countess even called

him Mortimer, and treated him quite as one of the family.

 

At last came a letter from the countess to her dear sister Arabella.

It should be given at length, but that I fear to introduce another

epistle. It is such an easy mode of writing, and facility is always

dangerous. In this letter it was announced with much preliminary

ambiguity, that Mortimer Gazebee—who had been found to be a treasure

in every way; quite a paragon of men—was about to be taken into the

de Courcy bosom as a child of that house. On that day fortnight, he

was destined to lead to the altar—the Lady Amelia.

 

The countess then went on to say, that dear Amelia did not

write herself, being so much engaged by her coming duties—the

responsibilities of which she doubtless fully realised, as well as

the privileges; but she had begged her mother to request that the

twins should come and act as bridesmaids on the occasion. Dear

Augusta, she knew, was too much occupied in the coming event in Mr

Oriel’s family to be able to attend.

 

Mr Mortimer Gazebee was taken into the de Courcy family, and did lead

the Lady Amelia to the altar; and the Gresham twins did go there and

act as bridesmaids. And, which is much more to say for human nature,

Augusta did forgive her cousin, and, after a certain interval, went

on a visit to that nice place in Surrey which she had once hoped

would be her own home. It would have been a very nice place, Augusta

thought, had not Lady Amelia Gazebee been so very economical.

 

We must presume that there was some explanation between them. If so,

Augusta yielded to it, and confessed it to be satisfactory. She had

always yielded to her