The one point required to establish Sedley’s claim to the peerage — the validity of the marriage — had been supplied by old Arthur Verney, as we have seen, the night before his death.
The late Lord Verney of unscrupulous memory, Arthur’s father, had, it was believed, induced Captain Sedley, in whose charge the infant had been placed, to pretend its death, and send the child in reality to France, where it had been nursed and brought up as his. He was dependent for his means of existence upon his employment as manager of his estates, under Lord Verney; and he dared not, it was thought, from some brief expressions in a troubled letter among the papers placed by old Mrs. Mervyn in Wynne Williams’s hands, notwithstanding many qualms2 of conscience, disobey Lord Verney. And he was quieted further by the solemn assurance that the question of the validity of the pretended marriage had been thoroughly3 sifted4, and that it was proved to have been a nullity.
He carefully kept, however, such papers as were in his possession respecting the identity of the child, and added a short statement of his own. If that old Lord Verney had suspected the truth that the marriage was valid1, as it afterwards proved, he was the only member of his family who did so. The rest had believed honestly the story that it was fraudulent and illusory. The apparent proof of the child’s death had put an end to all interest in further investigating the question, and so the matter rested, until time and events brought all to light.
The dream that made Malory beautiful in my eyes is over. The image of that young fair face — the beautiful lady of the chestnut5 hair and great hazel eyes haunts its dark woods less palpably, and the glowing shadow fades, year by year, away.
In sunny Italy, where her mother was born, those eyes having looked their last on Cleve and on “the boy,” and up, in clouded hope to heaven — were closed, and the slender bones repose6. “I think, Cleve, you’ll sometimes remember your poor Margaret. I know you’ll always be very kind to the little boy —our darling, and if you marry again, Cleve, she’ll not be a trouble to you, as I have been; and you said, you’ll sometimes think of me. You’ll forget all my jealousy7, and temper, and folly8, and you’ll say —‘Ah, she loved me.’”
And these last words return, though the lips that spoke9 them come no more; and he is very kind to that handsome boy — frank, generous, and fiery10 like her, with the great hazel eyes and beautiful tints11, and the fine and true affections. At times comes something in the smile, in the tone as he talks, in the laugh that thrills his heart with a strange yearning12 and agony. Vain remorse13! vain the yearnings; for the last words are spoken and heard; not one word more while the heavens remain, and mortals people the earth!
Sedley — Lord Verney we should style him — will never be a politician, but he has turned out a thoroughly useful business-like and genial14 country gentleman. Agnes, now Lady Verney, is, I will not say how happy; I only hope not too happy.
Need I say that the cloud that lowered for a while over the house of Hazelden has quite melted into air, and that the sun never shone brighter on that sweet landscape? Miss Etherage is a great heiress now, for Sedley, as for sake of clearness I call him still, refused a dot with his wife, and that handsome inheritance will all belong to Charity, who is as emphatic15, obstinate16, and kind-hearted as ever. The admiral has never gone down the mill-road since his introduction to the Honourable17 Kiffyn Fulke Verney at the foot of the hill. He rolls in his chair safely along the level uplands, and amuses himself with occasional inspections18 of Ware19 through his telescope; and tells little Agnes, when he sees her, what she was doing on a certain day, and asks who the party with the phaeton and grays, who called on Thursday at two o’clock, were, and similar questions; and likes to hear the news, and they say is growing more curious as years increase. He and Charity have revived their acquaintance with écarté and piquet, and play for an hour or so very snugly21 in the winter evenings. Miss Charity is a little cross when she loses, and won’t let old Etherage play more than his allotted22 number of games; and locks up the cards; and is growing wife-like with the admiral; but is quite devoted23 to him, and will make him live, I think, six years longer than any one else could.
Sedley wrote a very kind letter to the Hon. Kiffyn Fulke Verney, to set his mind at ease about mesne rates, and any other claims whatsoever24, that might arise against him, in consequence of his temporary tenure25 of the title and estates, and received from Vichy a very affronted26 reply, begging him to take whatever course he might be advised, as he distinctly objected to being placed under any kind of personal obligation, and trusted that he would not seek to place such a construction upon a compulsory27 respect for the equities28 of the situation, and the decencies enforced by public opinion; and he declared his readiness to make any sacrifice to pay him whatever his strict legal rights entitled him to the moment he had made up his mind to exact them.
The Hon. Kiffyn Fulke Verney is, of course, quite removed from his sphere of usefulness and distinction — parliamentary life — and spends his time upon the Continent, and is remarkably29 reserved and impertinent, and regarded with very general respect and hatred30.
Sedley has been very kind, for Cleve’s sake, to old Sir Booth Fanshawe, with whom he is the only person on earth who has an influence.
He wrote to the baronet, who was then in Paris, disclosing the secret of Cleve’s marriage. The old man burst into one of his frenzies31, and wrote forthwith a frantic32 letter direct to his mortal enemy, the Hon. Kiffyn Fulke Verney, railing at Cleve, railing at him, and calling upon him, in a tone of preposterous33 menace, to punish his nephew! Had he been left to himself, I dare say he would have made Cleve feel his resentment34. But thus bullied35 he said —“Upon my life I’ll do no such thing. I’m in the habit of thinking before I take steps, about it — with Booth Fanshawe’s permission, I’ll act according to my own judgment36, and I dare say the girl has got some money, and if it were not good for Cleve in some way, that old person would not be so angry.” And so it ended for the present.
The new Lord Verney went over expressly to see him, and in the same conversation, in which he arranged some law business in the friendliest way, and entirely37 to Sir Booth Fanshawe’s satisfaction, he discussed the question of Cleve’s marriage. At first the baronet was incensed38; but when the hurly-burly was done he came to see, with our friend Tom, whose peerage gave his opinion weight on the subject of marriages and family relations, that the alliance was not so bad — on the contrary, that it had some very strong points to recommend it.
The Rev20. Isaac Dixie has not got on in the Church, and is somehow no favourite at Ware. The Hon. Miss Caroline Oldys is still unmarried, and very bitter on the Verneys, uncle and nephew; people don’t understand why, though the reader may. Perhaps she thinks that the Hon. Kiffyn Fulke Verney ought to have tried again, and was too ready to accept a first refusal. Her hatred of Cleve I need not explain.
With respect to Mr. Larkin, I cite an old Dutch proverb, which says, “Those who swim deep and climb high seldom die in their beds.” In its fair figurative sense it applies satisfactorily to the case of that profound and aspiring39 gentleman who, as some of my readers are aware, fell at last from a high round of the ladder of his ambition, and was drowned in the sea beneath. No — not drowned; that were too painless, and implies extinction40. He fell, rather, upon that black flooring of rock that rims41 the water, and was smashed, but not killed.
It was, as they will remember, after his introduction to the management of the affairs of the Wylder, Brandon, and Lake families, and on the eve, to all appearance, of the splendid consummation of his subtle and audacious schemes, that in a moment the whole scaffolding of his villany gave way, and he fell headlong — thenceforth, helpless, sprawling42, backbroken, living on from year to year, and eating metaphoric43 dust, like the great old reptile44 who is as yet mangled45 but not killed.
Happy fly the years at Ware. Many fair children have blessed the union of pretty Agnes Etherage and the kindly46 heir of the Verneys. Cleve does not come himself; he goes little to any gay country houses. A kind of lassitude or melancholy47 is settling and deepening upon him. To one passage of his life he looks back with a quickly averted48 glance, and an unchanging horror — the time when he was saved from a great crime, as it were, by the turning of a die. “Those three dreadful weeks,” he says within himself, “when I was mad!” But his handsome son is constantly at Ware, where he is beloved by its master and mistress like one of their own children. One day Lord Verney ran across to Malory in his yacht, this boy with him. It was an accidental tête-à-tête, and he talked to the boy a great deal of his “poor mama,” as he sauntered through the sunny woods of Malory; and he brought him to the refectory, and pointed49 out to him from the window, the spot where he had seen her, with her trowel in her hand, as the morning sun threw the shadow of the spreading foliage50 over her, and he described her beauty to him; and he walked down with him to Cardyllian, the yacht was appointed to meet them at the pier51, and brought him into the church, to the pew where he was placed, and showed him the seat where she and Anne Sheckleton sat on the Sunday when he saw her first, and looked for a while silently into that void shadow, for it is pleasant and yet sad to call up sometimes those old scenes and images that have made us feel, when we were younger; and somehow good Lady Verney did not care to hear her husband upon this theme.
So for the present the story of the Verneys of Malory is told. Years hence, when we shall not be here to read it, the same scenes and family may have a new story to tell; for time, with his shuttle and the threads of fate, is ever weaving new romance.
The End
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1
valid
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| adj.有确实根据的；有效的；正当的，合法的 | |
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qualms
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| n.不安；内疚 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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sifted
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| v.筛( sift的过去式和过去分词 )；筛滤；细查；详审 | |
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chestnut
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| n.栗树，栗子 | |
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repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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11
tints
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| 色彩( tint的名词复数 )； 带白的颜色； （淡色）染发剂； 痕迹 | |
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yearning
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| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
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remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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genial
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| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
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emphatic
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| adj.强调的，着重的；无可置疑的，明显的 | |
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obstinate
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| adj.顽固的，倔强的，不易屈服的，较难治愈的 | |
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honourable
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| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
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inspections
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| n.检查( inspection的名词复数 )；检验；视察；检阅 | |
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ware
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| n.(常用复数)商品，货物 | |
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rev
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| v.发动机旋转，加快速度 | |
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snugly
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| adv.紧贴地；贴身地；暖和舒适地；安适地 | |
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allotted
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| 分配，拨给，摊派( allot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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whatsoever
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| adv.（用于否定句中以加强语气）任何；pron.无论什么 | |
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tenure
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| n.终身职位；任期；(土地)保有权，保有期 | |
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affronted
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| adj.被侮辱的，被冒犯的v.勇敢地面对( affront的过去式和过去分词 )；相遇 | |
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compulsory
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| n.强制的，必修的；规定的，义务的 | |
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equities
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| 普通股，股票 | |
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remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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frenzies
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| 狂乱( frenzy的名词复数 )； 极度的激动 | |
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frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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preposterous
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| adj.荒谬的，可笑的 | |
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resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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bullied
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| adj.被欺负了v.恐吓，威逼( bully的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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incensed
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| 盛怒的 | |
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aspiring
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| adj.有志气的；有抱负的；高耸的v.渴望；追求 | |
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40
extinction
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| n.熄灭，消亡，消灭，灭绝，绝种 | |
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41
rims
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| n.（圆形物体的）边( rim的名词复数 )；缘；轮辋；轮圈 | |
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42
sprawling
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| adj.蔓生的，不规则地伸展的v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的现在分词 )；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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43
metaphoric
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| adj. 使用隐喻的；比喻的；比喻意义的 | |
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44
reptile
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| n.爬行动物；两栖动物 | |
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45
mangled
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| vt.乱砍（mangle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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46
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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47
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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48
averted
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| 防止，避免( avert的过去式和过去分词 )； 转移 | |
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49
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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50
foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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51
pier
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| n.码头；桥墩，桥柱；[建]窗间壁，支柱 | |
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