The Kellys and the O'Kellys Part 53

"Well, my lord, I confess it all; isn't that enough?"

"Enough, Kilcullen!" said the earl, in a voice of horrified astonishment, "how enough?--how can anything be enough after such a course--so wild, so mad, so ruinous!"

"For Heaven's sake, my lord, finish the list of my iniquities, or you'll make me feel that I am utterly unfit to become my cousin's husband."

"I fear you are--indeed I fear you are. Are the horses disposed of yet, Kilcullen?"

"Indeed they are not, my lord; nor can I dispose of them. There is more owing for them than they are worth; you may say they belong to the trainer now."

"Is the establishment in Curzon Street broken up?"

"To tell the truth, not exactly; but I've no thoughts of returning there. I'm still under rent for the house."

The cross-examination was continued for a considerable time--till the earl had literally nothing more to say, and Lord Kilcullen was so irritated that he told his father he would not stand it any longer.

Then they went into money affairs, and the earl spoke despondingly about ten thousands and twenty thousands, and the viscount somewhat flippantly of fifty thousands and sixty thousands; and this was continued till the earl felt that his son was too deep in the mire to be pulled out, and the son thought that, deep as he was there, it would be better to remain and wallow in it than undergo so disagreeable a process as that to which his father subjected him in extricating him from it. It was settled, however, that Mr. Jervis, Lord Cashel's agent, should receive full authority to deal summarily in all matters respecting the horses and their trainers, the house in Curzon Street, and its inhabitants, and all other appendages and sources of expense which Lord Kilcullen had left behind him; and that he, Kilcullen, should at once commence his siege upon his cousin's fortune. And on this point the son bargained that, as it would be essentially necessary that his spirits should be light and easy, he was not, during the operation, to be subjected to any of his father's book-room conversations: for this he stipulated as an absolute _sine qua non_ in the negotiation, and the clause was at last agreed to, though not without much difficulty.

Both father and son seemed to think that the offer should be made at once. Lord Cashel really feared that his son would be arrested at Grey Abbey, and he was determined to pay nothing further for him, unless he felt secure of f.a.n.n.y's fortune; and whatever were Lord Kilcullen's hopes and fears as to his future lot, he was determined not to remain long in suspense, as far as his projected marriage was concerned. He was determined to do his best to accomplish it, for he would have done anything to get the command of ready money; if he was not successful, at any rate he need not remain in the purgatory of Grey Abbey. The Queen's Bench would be preferable to that. He was not, however, very doubtful; he felt but little confidence in the constancy of any woman's affection, and a great deal in his own powers of fascination: he had always been successful in his appeals to ladies' hearts, and did not doubt of being so now, when the object of his adoration must, as he thought, be so dreadfully in want of some excitement, something to interest her. Any fool might have her now, thought he, and she can't have any violent objection to being Lady Kilcullen for the present, and Lady Cashel in due time. He felt, however, something like remorse at the arrangement to which he was a party; it was not that he was about to make a beautiful creature, his own cousin, miserable for life, by uniting her to a spendthrift, a _roue_, and a gambler--such was the natural lot of women in the higher ranks of life--but he felt that he was robbing her of her money. He would have thought it to be no disgrace to carry her off had another person been her guardian. She would then have had fair play, and it would be the guardian's fault if her fortune were not secure. But she had no friend now to protect her: it was her guardian himself who was betraying her to ruin.

However, the money must be had, and Lord Kilcullen was not long in quieting his conscience.

"Tierney," said Kilcullen, meeting his friend after his escape from the book-room; "you are not troubled with a father now, I believe;--do you recollect whether you ever had one?"

"Well, I can't say I remember just at present," said Mat; "but I believe I had a sort of one, once."

"I'm a more dutiful son than you," said the other; "I never can forget mine. I have no doubt an alligator on the banks of the Nile is a fearful creature--a shark when one's bathing, or a jungle tiger when one's out shooting, ought, I'm sure, to be avoided; but no creature yet created, however hungry, or however savage, can equal in ferocity a governor who has to sh.e.l.l out his cas.h.!.+ I've no wish for a _tete-a-tete_ with any b.l.o.o.d.y-minded monster; but I'd sooner meet a starved hyena, single-handed in the desert, than be shut up for another hour with my Lord Cashel in that room of his on the right-hand side of the hall. If you hear of my having beat a retreat from Grey Abbey, without giving you or any one else warning of my intention, you will know that I have lacked courage to comply with a second summons to those gloomy realms. If I receive another invite such as that I got this morning, I am off."

Lady Cashel's guests came on the day appointed; the carriages were driven up, one after another, in quick succession, about an hour before dinner-time; and, as her ladys.h.i.+p's mind became easy on the score of disappointments, it was somewhat troubled as to the mult.i.tude of people to be fed and entertained. Murray had not yet forgiven the injury inflicted on him when the family dinner was kept waiting for Lord Kilcullen, and Richards was still pouting at her own degraded position.

The countess had spent the morning pretending to make arrangements, which were in fact all settled by Griffiths; and when she commenced the operation of dressing herself, she declared she was so utterly exhausted by what she had gone through during the last week, as to be entirely unfit to entertain her company. Poor dear Lady Cashel! Was she so ignorant of her own nature as to suppose it possible that she should ever entertain anybody?

However, a gla.s.s of wine, and some mysterious drops, and a little paint; a good deal of coaxing, the sight of her diamonds, and of a large puce-coloured turban, somewhat revivified her; and she was in her drawing-room in due time, supported by Lady Selina and f.a.n.n.y, ready to receive her visitors as soon as they should descend from their respective rooms.

Lady Cashel had already welcomed Lord George, and shaken hands with the bishop: and was now deep in turnips and ten-pound freeholders with the gouty colonel, who had hobbled into the room on a pair of crutches, and was accommodated with two easy chairs in a corner--one for himself, and the other for his feet.

"Now, my dear Lady George," said the countess, "you must not think of returning to Mountains tonight: indeed, we made sure of you and Lord George for a week."

"My dear Lady Cashel, it's impossible; indeed, we wished it of all things, and tried it every way: but we couldn't manage it; Lord George has so much to do: there's the Sessions to-morrow at Dunlavin, and he has promised to meet Sir Glenmalure Aubrey, about a road, or a river, or a bridge--I forget which it is; and they must attend to those things, you know, or the tenants couldn't get their corn to market. But you don't know how sorry we are, and such a charming set you have got here!"

"Well, I know it's no use pressing you; but I can't tell you how vexed I am, for I counted on you, above all, and Adolphus will be so sorry.

You know Lord Kilcullen's come home, Lady George?"

"Yes; I was very glad to hear we were to meet him."

"Oh, yes! He's come to stay here some time, I believe; he's got quite fond of Grey Abbey lately. He and his father get on so well together, it's quite a delight to me."

"Oh, it must be, I'm sure," said Lady George; and the countess sidled off to the bishop's fat wife.

"Well, this is very kind of you and the bishop, to come at so short a notice: indeed I hardly dared expect it. I know he has so much to do in Dublin with those horrid boards and things."

"He is busy there, to be sure, Lady Cashel; but he couldn't deny himself the pleasure of coming to Grey Abbey; he thinks so very much of the earl. Indeed, he'd contrive to be able to come here, when he couldn't think of going anywhere else."

"I'm sure Lord Cashel feels how kind he is; and so do I, and so does Adolphus. Lord Kilcullen will be delighted to meet you and the bishop."

The bishop's wife a.s.sured the countess that nothing on earth, at the present moment, would give the bishop so much pleasure as meeting Lord Kilcullen.

"You know the bishop christened him, don't you?" said Lady Cashel.

"No! did he though?" said the bishop's wife; "how very interesting!"

"Isn't it? And Adolphus longs to meet him. He's so fond of everything that's high-minded and talented, Adolphus is: a little sarcastic perhaps--I don't mind saying so to you; but that's only to inferior sort of people--not talented, you know: some people are stupid, and Adolphus can't bear that."

"Indeed they are, my lady. I was dining last week at Mrs. Prijean's, in Merrion Square; you know Mrs. Prijean?"

"I think I met her at Carton, four years ago."

"Well, she is very heavy: what do you think, Lady Cashel, she--"

"Adolphus can't bear people of that sort, but he'll be delighted with the bishop: it's so delightful, his having christened him. Adolphus means to live a good deal here now. Indeed, he and his father have so much in common that they can't get on very well apart, and I really hope he and the bishop'll see a good deal of each other;" and the countess left the bishop's wife and sat herself down by old Mrs.

Ellison.

"My dear Mrs. Ellison, I am so delighted to see you once again at Grey Abbey; it's such ages since you were here!"

"Indeed it is, Lady Cashel, a very long time; but the poor colonel suffers so much, it's rarely he's fit to be moved; and, indeed, I'm not much better myself. I was not able to move my left shoulder from a week before Christmas-day till a few days since!"

"You don't say so! Rheumatism, I suppose?"

"Oh, yes--all rheumatism: no one knows what I suffer."

"And what do you use for it?"

"Oh, there's nothing any use. I know the very nature of rheumatism now, I've had it so long--and it minds nothing at all: there's no preventing it, and no curing it. It's like a bad husband, Lady Cashel; the best way is to put up with it."

"And how is the dear colonel, Mrs. Ellison?"

"Why, he was just able to come here, and that was all; but he was dying to see Lord Cashel. He thinks the ministers'll be shaken about this business of O'Connell's; and if so, that there'll be a general election, and then what'll they do about the county?"

"I'm sure Lord Cashel wanted to see the colonel on that very subject; so does Adolphus--Lord Kilcullen, you know. I never meddle with those things; but I really think Adolphus is thinking of going into Parliament. You know he's living here at present: his father's views and his own are so exactly the same on all those sort of things, that it's quite delightful. He's taking a deal of interest about the county lately, is Adolphus, and about Grey Abbey too: he's just the same his father used to be, and that kind of thing is so pleasant, isn't it, Mrs Ellison?"

Mrs Ellison said it was, and at the same moment groaned, for her shoulder gave her a twinge.

The subject of these eulogiums, in the meantime, did not make his appearance till immediately before dinner was announced, and certainly did not evince very strongly the delight which his mother had a.s.sured her friends he would feel at meeting them, for he paid but very little attention to any one but Mat Tierney and his cousin f.a.n.n.y; he shook hands with all the old gentlemen, bowed to all the old ladies, and nodded at the young ones. But if he really felt that strong desire, which his mother had imputed to him, of opening his heart to the bishop and the colonel respecting things temporal and spiritual, he certainly very successfully suppressed his anxiety.

He had, during the last two or three days, applied himself to the task of ingratiating himself with f.a.n.n.y. He well knew how to suit himself to different characters, and to make himself agreeable when he pleased; and f.a.n.n.y, though she had never much admired her dissipated cousin, certainly found his conversation a relief after the usual oppressive tedium of Grey Abbey society.

He had not begun by making love to her, or expressing admiration, or by doing or saying anything which could at all lead her to suspect his purpose, or put her on her guard. He had certainly been much more attentive to her, much more intimate with her, than he usually had been in his flying visits to Grey Abbey; but then he was now making his first appearance as a reformed rake; and besides, he was her first cousin, and she therefore felt no inclination to repel his advances.

He was obliged, in performance of a domestic duty, to walk out to dinner with one of Lady George's daughters, but he contrived to sit next to f.a.n.n.y--and, much to his father's satisfaction, talked to her during the whole ceremony.

"And where have you hidden yourself all the morning, f.a.n.n.y," said he, "that n.o.body has seen anything of you since breakfast?"