We must go again to Merle Park, where the Tringle family was still living — and from which Gertrude had not as yet been violently abducted at the period to which the reader has been brought in the relation which has been given of the affairs at Stalham. Jonathan Stubbs’s little note to Lady Albury was received on Sunday, 23rd March, and Gertrude was not abducted till the 29th. On Sunday, the 30th, she was brought back — not in great triumph. At that time the house was considerably perturbed. Sir Thomas was very angry with his daughter Augusta, having been led to believe that she had been privy to Gertrude’s escapade — so angry that very violent words had been spoken as to her expulsion from the house. Tom also was ill, absolutely ill in bed, with a doctor to see him — and all from love, declaring that he would throw himself over the ship’s side and drown himself while there was yet a chance left to him for Ayala. And in the midst of this Lady Tringle herself was by no means exempt from the paternal wrath. She was told that she must have known what was going on between her daughter and that idiot Captain — that she encouraged the Trafficks to remain — that she coddled up her son till he was sick from sheer lackadaisical idleness. The only one in the house who seemed to be exempt from the wrath of Sir Thomas was Lucy — and therefore it was upon Lucy’s head that fell the concentrated energy of Aunt Emmeline’s revenge. When Captain Batsby was spoken of with contumely in the light of a husband — this being always done by Sir Thomas — Lady Tringle would make her rejoinder to this, when Sir Thomas had turned his back, by saying that a captain in Her Majesty’s army, with good blood in his veins and a competent fortune, was at any rate better than a poor artist, who had, so to say, no blood, and was unable to earn his bread; and when Tom was ridiculed for his love for Ayala she would go on to explain — always after Sir Thomas’s back had been turned — that poor Tom had been encouraged by his father, whereas Lucy had taken upon herself to engage herself in opposition to her pastors and masters. And then came the climax. It was all very well to say that Augusta was intruding — but there were people who intruded much worse than Augusta, without half so much right. When this was said the poor sore-hearted woman felt her own cruelty, and endeavoured to withdraw the harsh words; but the wound had been given, and the venom rankled so bitterly that Lucy could no longer bear her existence among the Tringles. “I ought not to remain after that,” she wrote to her lover. “Though I went into the poorhouse I ought not to remain.”
“I wrote to Mr Hamel,” she said to her aunt, and told him that as you did not like my being here I had better — better go away.”
“But where are you to go? And I didn’t say that I didn’t like you being here. You oughtn’t to take me up in that way.”
“I do feel that I am in the way, aunt, and I think that I had better go.”
“But where are you to go? I declare that everybody says everything to break my heart. Of course you are to remain here till he has got a house to keep you in.” But the letter had gone and a reply had come telling Lucy that whatever might be the poorhouse to which she would be destined he would be there to share it with her.
Hamel wrote this with high heart. He had already resolved, previous to this, that he would at once prepare a home for his coming bride, though he was sore distressed by the emergency of his position. His father had become more and more bitter with him as he learned that his son would in no respect be guided by him. There was a sum of money which he now declared to be due to him, and which Isadore acknowledged to have been lent to him. Of this the father demanded repayment. “If”, said he, you acknowledge anything of the obedience of a son, that money is at your disposal — and any other that you may want. But, if you determine to be as free from my control and as deaf to my advice as might be any other young man, then you must be to me as might be any other young man.” He had written to his father saying that the money should be repaid as soon as possible. The misfortune had come to him at a trying time. It was, however, before he had received Lucy’s last account of her own misery at Merle Park, so that when that was received he was in part prepared.
Our Colonel, in writing to Lady Albury, had declared Aldershot to be a most exigeant place — by which he had intended to imply that his professional cares were too heavy to allow his frequent absence; but nevertheless he would contrive occasionally to fly up to London for a little relief. Once when doing so he had found himself sitting in the sculptor’s studio, and there listening to Hamel’s account of Lucy’s troubles at Merle Park. Hamel said nothing as to his own difficulties, but was very eager in explaining the necessity of removing Lucy from the tyranny to which she was subjected. It will perhaps be remembered that Hamel down in Scotland had declared to his friend his purpose of asking Lucy Dormer to be his wife, and also the success of his enterprise after he had gone across the lake to Glenbogie. It will be borne in mind also that should the Colonel succeed in winning Ayala to his way of thinking the two men would become the husbands of the two sisters. Each fully sympathised with the other, and in this way they had become sincere and intimate friends.
“Is she like her sister?” asked the Colonel, who was not as yet acquainted with Lucy.
“Hardly like her, although in truth there is a family likeness. Lucy is taller, with perhaps more regular features, and certainly more quiet in her manner.”
“Ayala can be very quiet too,” said the lover.
“Oh, yes — because she varies in her moods. I remember her almost as a child, when she would remain perfectly still for a quarter of an hour, and then would be up and about the house everywhere, glancing about like a ray of the sun reflected from a mirror as you move it in your hand.”
“She has grown steadier since that,” said the Colonel.
“I cannot imagine her to be steady — not as Lucy is steady. Lucy, if it be necessary, can sit and fill herself with her own thoughts for the hour together.”
“Which of them was most like their father?”
“They were both of them like him in their thorough love for things beautiful — but they are both of them unlike him in this, that he was self-indulgent, while they, like women in general, are always devoting themselves to others.” She will not devote herself to me, thought Jonathan Stubbs to himself, but that may be because, like her father, she loves things beautiful. “My poor Lucy”, continued Hamel, “would fain devote herself to those around her if they would only permit it.”
“She would probably prefer devoting herself to you,” said the Colonel.
“No doubt she would — if it were expedient. If I may presume that she loves me, I may presume also that she would wish to live with me.”
“Is it not expedient?” asked the other.
“It will be so, I trust, before long.”
“But it seems to be so necessary just at present.” To this the sculptor at the moment made no reply. “If”, continued Stubbs, “they treat her among them as you say, she ought at any rate to be relieved from her misery.”
“She ought to be relieved certainly. She shall be relieved.”
“But you say that it is not expedient.”
“I only meant that there were difficulties — difficulties which will have to be got over. I think that all difficulties are got over when a man looks at them steadily.”
“This, I suppose, is an affair of money.”
“Well, yes. All difficulties seem to me to be an affair of money. A man, of course, would wish to earn enough before he marries to make his wife comfortable. I would struggle on as I am, and not be impatient, were it not that I fear she is more uncomfortable as she is now than she would be here in the midst of my poverty.”
“After all, Hamel, what is the extent of the poverty? What are the real circumstances? As you have gone so far you might as well tell me everything.” Then after considerable pressure the sculptor did tell him everything. There was an income of less than three hundred a year — which would probably become about four within the next twelvemonth. There were no funds prepared with which to buy the necessary furniture for the incoming of a wife, and there was that debt demanded by his father.
“Must that be paid?” asked the Colonel.
“I would starve rather than not pay it,” said Hamel, “if I alone were to be considered. It would certainly be paid within the next six months if I were alone, even though I should starve.”
Then his friend told him that the debt should be paid at once. It amounted to but little more than a hundred pounds. And then, of course, the conversation was carried further. When a friend inquires as to the pecuniary distresses of a friend he feels himself as a matter of course bound to relieve him. He would supply also the means necessary for the incoming of the young wife. With much energy, and for a long time, Hamel refused to accept the assistance offered to him; b............