The Bertrams Part 65

No educated woman, we may suppose, stands at the altar as a bride, without having read and re-read those words till they are closely fixed on her memory. It is a great oath, and a woman should know well what that is to which she is about to pledge herself. Caroline Waddington had studied them well. She would live with him after G.o.d's ordinance; that is, as his wife. Yes, she was prepared for that. She would obey him. Yes; if obedience were required, she would give it.

Serve him? oh, yes, certainly; to the best of her power of mind and body. Love him? No; she was bold, at least, if not righteous. No; she could not love him. But, then, how few who were married complied with all those behests? How many were undutiful, disobedient, careless?

Might not she except for herself one point? be false on one article if she were true in so many? She would honour him, for honour was possible to her; she would keep him in sickness and health, and forsaking all other--yes, all other, in body certainly, in heart too if G.o.d would give her ease--and keep herself only to him, her husband. And so she swore to it all before she went there--all, with the one exception.

And Sir Henry swore too--with a light, indifferent oath, which, however, he had no intention of breaking in any part. He would live with her, and love her, and comfort her, and all that sort of thing;--and very well she would look at the top of his table, in black velvet.

And the merry bells went on ringing as they trooped back to the old man's house. They went in gay carriages, though the distance was but some hundred yards. But brides and bridegrooms cannot walk on their wedding-days in all their gala garments, though it be but a few hundred yards.

And then, as they entered the breakfast-room, the old man met them, and blessed them. He was too infirm to go to church, and had seen none of them before the ceremony; but now that the deed was done, he also was there, dressed in his best, his last new coat, not more than twelve years old, his dress waistcoat sent home before the Reform Bill, his newest shoes, which creaked twice worse than any of their older brethren. But when a man can shower thousands on a wedded pair, what do they, or even the bridesmaids, care about his clothes?

And then after this fas.h.i.+on he blessed them--not holding each a hand as he might otherwise have done; for his infirmities compelled him to use two crutches.

"I wish you joy, Sir Henry--of your bride--with all my heart.

And a bonny bride she is, and well able to take her place in the world. Though you'll be rich and well to do, you'll not find her over-extravagant. And though her fortune's not much for a man like you, perhaps, she might have had less, mightn't she? ha! ha! ha!

Little as it is, it will help--it will help. And you'll not find debts coming home after her; I'm sure of that. She'll keep your house well together; and your money too--but I guess you'll not leave that to her keeping.

"And I wish you joy with all my heart, my Lady Harcourt. You've done very well--much better doubtless than we were thinking of; you and me too. And as for me, I was an old fool." Mr. Bertram was doubtless thinking of that interview with his nephew. "Much better, much better. Your husband's a rising man, and he'll live to be a rich man.

I have always thought a lawyer's profession very good for a man who would know how to make money at it. Sir Henry knows how to do that well. So I wish you joy with all my heart, Lady Bertram--Harcourt, I mean. And now we'll sit down and have a bit of something to eat." Such was the marriage-blessing of this old man, who knew and understood the world so well. To be Lady Harcourt, and have the spending of three or four thousand a year! What a destiny was that for his granddaughter! And to have achieved that without any large call upon his own purse!

It was not intended that Sir Henry and his bride were to sit down to the breakfast. That is, I believe, now voted to be a bore--and always should have been so voted. They had done, or were now to do their necessary eating in private, and the company was to see no more of them. An effort had been made to explain this to Mr. Bertram, but it had not been successful. So when Caroline kissed him, and bade him adieu after his little speech, he expressed himself surprised.

"What, off before the breakfast! What's the good of the breakfast then?" His idea, in his extravagance, had been that he would give a last feed to the solicitor-general. But he had another piece of extravagance in his mind, which he had been unable to bring himself to perpetrate till the last moment; but which now he did perpetrate.

"Sir Henry, Sir Henry," and he toddled to a window. "Here; you'll be spending a lot of money on her in foreign parts, and I think you have behaved well; here," and he slipped a bit of paper into his hands.

"But, remember, it will be the last. And, Sir Henry, remember the interest of the three thousand--punctually--eh, Sir Henry?"

Sir Henry nodded--thanked him--slipped the bit of paper into his pocket, and followed his bride to the carriage.

"Your grandfather has just given me five hundred pounds," was his first word in private to his wife.

"Has he?" said Lady Harcourt, "I'm very glad of it; very." And so she was. What else had she to be glad of now, except hundreds--and hundreds--and hundreds of pounds?

And so they were whisked away to London, to Dover, to Paris, to Nice.

"Sed post equitem sedet atra cura."

The care was very black that sat behind that female knight. But we will not now follow either her thoughts or her carriage-wheels.

END OF VOL. II.

Printed by W. Clowes and Sons, Stamford Street.

THE BERTRAMS.

A Novel.

by

ANTHONY TROLLOPE

Author of "Barchester Towers," "Doctor Thorne," etc.

In Three Volumes

VOL. III.

Second Editon

London: Chapman & Hall, 193 Piccadilly.

1859.

[The right of Translation is reserved.]

London: Printed by W. Clowes and Sons, Stamford Street.

CONTENTS OF VOL. III.

I. SIR LIONEL GOES TO HIS WOOING.

II. HE TRIES HIS HAND AGAIN.

III. A QUIET LITTLE DINNER.

IV. MRS. MADDEN'S BALL.

V. CAN I ESCAPE?

VI. A MATRIMONIAL DIALOGUE.

VII. THE RETURN TO HADLEY.

VIII. CAIRO.

IX. THE TWO WIDOWS.

X. REACHING HOME.

XI. I COULD PUT A CODICIL.

XII. MRS. WILKINSON'S TROUBLES.

XIII. ANOTHER JOURNEY TO BOWES.