Miss Mackenzie Part 31

Miss Mackenzie, before she left Gower Street, was forced to make some arrangements as to her affairs at Littlebath, and these were ultimately settled in a manner that was not altogether palatable to her. Mr Rubb was again sent down, having Susanna in his charge, and he was empowered to settle with Miss Mackenzie's landlady and give up the lodgings. There was much that was disagreeable in this. Miss Mackenzie having just rejected Mr Rubb's suit, did not feel quite comfortable in giving him a commission to see all her stockings and petticoats packed up and brought away from the lodgings. Indeed, she could give him no commission of the kind, but intimated her intention of writing to the lodging-house keeper. He, however, was profuse in his a.s.surances that nothing should be left behind, and if Miss Mackenzie would tell him anything of the way in which the things ought to be packed, he would be so happy to attend to her! To him Miss Mackenzie would give no such instructions, but, doubtless, she gave many to Susanna.

As to Susanna, it was settled that she should remain as a boarder at the Littlebath school, at any rate for the next half-year. After that there might be great doubt whether her aunt could bear the expense of maintaining her in such a position.

Miss Mackenzie had reconciled herself to going to the Cedars because she would thus have an opportunity of seeing her lawyer and arranging about her property, whereas had she been down at Littlebath there would have been a difficulty. And she wanted some one whom she could trust to act for her, some one besides the lawyer, and she thought that she could trust her cousin, John Ball. As to getting away from all her suitors that was impossible. Had she gone to Littlebath there was one there; had she remained with her sister-in-law, she would have been always near another; and, on going to the Cedars, she would meet the third. But she could not on that account absolutely isolate herself from everybody that she knew in the world. And, perhaps, she was getting somewhat used to her suitors, and less liable than she had been to any fear that they could force her into action against her own consent. So she went to the Cedars, and, on arriving there, received from her uncle and aunt but a moderate amount of condolence as to the death of her brother.

Her first and second days in her aunt's house were very quiet.

Nothing was said of John's former desires, and nothing about her own money or her brother's family. On the morning of the third day she told her cousin that she would, on the next morning, accompany him to town if he would allow her. "I am going to Mr Slow's," said she, "and perhaps you could go with me." To this he a.s.sented willingly, and then, after a pause, surmised that her visit must probably have reference to the sale of her houses to the railway company. "Partly to that," she said, "but it chiefly concerns arrangements for my brother's family."

To this John Ball said nothing, nor did Lady Ball, who was present, then speak. But Miss Mackenzie could see that her aunt looked at her cousin, opening her eyes, and expressing concern. John Ball himself allowed no change to come upon his face, but went on deliberately with his bread and b.u.t.ter. "I shall be very happy to go with you," he said, "and will either come and call for you when you have done, or stay with you while you are there, just as you like."

"I particularly want you to stay with me," said she, "and as we go up to town I will tell you all about it."

She observed that before her cousin left the house on that day, his mother got hold of him and was alone with him for nearly half an hour. After that, Lady Ball was alone with Sir John, in his own room, for another half hour. The old baronet had become older, of course, and much weaker, since his niece had last been at the Cedars, and was now seldom seen about the house till the afternoon.

Of all the inst.i.tutions at the Cedars that of the carriage was the most important. Miss Mackenzie found that the carriage arrangement had been fixed upon a new and more settled basis since her last visit. Then it used to go out perhaps as often as three times a week.

But there did not appear to be any fixed rule. Like other carriages, it did, to a certain degree, come when it was wanted. But now there was, as I have said, a settled basis. The carriage came to the door on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Sat.u.r.days, exactly at two o'clock, and Sir John with Lady Ball were driven about till four.

On the first Tuesday of her visit Miss Mackenzie had gone with her uncle and aunt, and even she had found the pace to be very slow, and the whole affair to be very dull. Her uncle had once enlivened the thing by asking her whether she had found any lovers since she went to Littlebath, and this question had perplexed her very much. She could not say that she had found none, and as she was not prepared to acknowledge that she had found any, she could only sit still and blush.

"Women have plenty of lovers when they have plenty of money," said the baronet.

"I don't believe that Margaret thinks of anything of the kind," said Lady Ball.

After that Margaret determined to have as little to do with the carriage as possible, and on that evening she learned from her cousin that the horses had been sold to the man who farmed the land, and were hired every other day for two hours' work.

It was on the Thursday morning that Miss Mackenzie had spoken of going into town on the morrow, and on that day when her aunt asked her about the driving, she declined.

"I hope that nothing your uncle said on Tuesday annoyed you?"

"Oh dear, no; but if you don't mind it, I'd rather stay at home."

"Of course you shall if you like it," said her aunt; "and by-the-by, as I want to speak to you, and as we might not find time after coming home, if you don't mind it I'll do it now."

Of course Margaret said that she did not mind it, though in truth she did mind it, and was afraid of her aunt.

"Well then, Margaret, look here. I want to know something about your brother's affairs. From what I have heard, I fear they were not very good."

"They were very bad, aunt,--very bad indeed."

"Dear, dear; you don't say so. Sir John always feared that it would be so when Thomas Mackenzie mixed himself up with those Rubbs. And there has gone half of Jonathan Ball's money,--money which Sir John made! Well, well!"

Miss Mackenzie had nothing to say to this; and as she had nothing to say to it she sat silent, making no attempt at any words.

"It does seem hard; don't it, my dear?"

"It wouldn't make any difference to anybody now--to my uncle, I mean, or to John, if the money was not gone."

"That's quite true; quite true; only it does seem to be a pity.

However, that half of Jonathan's money which you have got, is not lost, and there's some comfort in that."

Miss Mackenzie was not called upon to make any answer to this; for although she had lost a large sum of money by lending it to her brother, nevertheless she was still possessed of a larger sum of money than that which her brother Walter had received from Jonathan Ball.

"And what are they going to do, my dear--the children, I mean, and the widow? I suppose there'll be something for them out of the business?"

"I don't think there'll be anything, aunt. As far as I can understand there will be nothing certain. They may probably get a hundred and twenty-five pounds a-year." This she named, as being the interest of the money she had lent--or given.

"A hundred and twenty-five pounds a-year. That isn't much, but it will keep them from absolute want."

"Would it, aunt?"

"Oh, yes; at least, I suppose so. I hope she's a good manager. She ought to be, for she's a very disagreeable woman. You told me that yourself, you know."

Then Miss Mackenzie, having considered for one moment, resolved to make a clean breast of it all, and this she did with the fewest possible words.

"I'm going to divide what I've got with them, and I hope it will make them comfortable."

"What!" exclaimed her aunt.

"I'm going to give Sarah half what I've got, for her and her children. I shall have enough to live on left."

"Margaret, you don't mean it?"

"Not mean it? why not, aunt? You would not have me let them starve.

Besides, I promised my brother when he was dying."

"Then I must say he was very wrong, very wicked, I may say, to exact any such promise from you; and no such promise is binding. If you ask Sir John, or your lawyer, they will tell you so. What! exact a promise from you to the amount of half your income. It was very wrong."

"But, aunt, I should do the same if I had made no promise."

"No, you wouldn't, my dear. Your friends wouldn't let you. And indeed your friends must prevent it now. They will not hear of such a sacrifice being made."

"But, aunt--"

"Well, my dear."

"It's my own, you know." And Margaret, as she said this, plucked up her courage, and looked her aunt full in the face.

"Yes, it is your own, by law; but I don't suppose, my dear, that you are of that disposition or that character that you'd wish to set all the world at defiance, and make everybody belonging to you feel that you had disgraced yourself."

"Disgraced myself by relieving my brother's family!"

"Disgraced yourself by giving to that woman money that has come to you as your fortune has come. Think of it, where it came from!"

"It came to me from my brother Walter."

"And where did he get it? And who made it? And don't you know that your brother Tom had his share of it, and wasted it all? Did it not all come from the b.a.l.l.s? And yet you think so little of that, that you are going to let that woman rob you of it--rob you and my grandchildren; for that, I tell you, is the way in which the world will look at it. Perhaps you don't know it, but all that property was as good as given to John at one time. Who was it first took you by the hand when you were left all alone in Arundel Street? Oh, Margaret, don't go and be such an ungrateful, foolish creature!"

Margaret waited for a moment, and then she answered--