The Last Chronicle of Barset [255]
on this occasion direct to his father--and had asked his father whether, in such a case, he was to look forward to be disinherited. 'It is essential that I should know,' the major had said, 'because in such a case I must take immediate measures for leaving this place.' His father had sent back his letter, writing a few words at the bottom of it. 'If you do as you propose above, you must expect nothing from me.' The words were written in large round handwriting, very hurriedly, and the son when he received them perfectly understood the mood of his father's mind when he wrote them.
Then there came tidings, addressed on this occasion to Mrs Grantly, that Cosby Lodge was to be given up. Lady-day had come, and the notice necessarily to be given at that period, was so given. 'I know this will grieve you,' Major Grantly had said, 'but my father has driven me to it.' This, in itself, was a cause of great sorrow, both to the archdeacon and to Mrs Grantly, as there were circumstances connected with Cosby Lodge which made them think that it was a very desirable residence for their son. 'I shall sell everything about the place and go abroad at once,' he said in a subsequent letter. 'My present idea is that, I shall settle myself at Pau, as my income will suffice for me to live there, and education for Edith will be cheap. At any rate I will not continue to live in England. I could never be happy here in circumstance so altered. Of course I should not have left my profession, unless I had understood from my father that the income arising from it would not be necessary to me. I do not, however, mean to complain, but simply to tell you that I shall go.' There were many letters between the mother and son in those days.
'I shall stay till after the trial,' he said. 'If she will then go with me, well and good; but whether she will or not, I shall not remain here.' All this seemed to Mrs Grantly to be peculiarly unfortunate, for had he not resolved to go, things might even yet have righted themselves. From what she could now understand of the character of Miss Crawley, whom she did not know personally, she thought it probable that Grace, in the event of her father being found guilty by the jury, would absolutely and persistently refuse the offer made to her. She would be too good, as Mrs Grantly put it to herself, to bring misery and disgrace into another family. But should Mr Crawley be acquitted, and should the marriage then take place, the archdeacon himself might probably be got to forgive it. In either case there would be no necessity for breaking up the house at Cosby Lodge. But her dear son Henry, her best beloved, was obstinate and stiff-necked and would take no advice. 'He is even worse than his father,' she said, in her short-lived anger, to her own father to whom alone at this time she could unburden her griefs, seeking consolation and encouragement.
It was her habit to go over to the deanery at any rate twice a week at this time, and on the occasion of one of the visits so made, she expressed very strongly her distress at the family quarrel which had come among them. The old man took his grandson's part through and through. 'I do not at all see why he should not marry the young lady if he likes her. As for money, there ought to be enough without his having to look for a wife with a fortune.'
'It is not a question of money, papa.'
'And as to rank,' continued Mr Harding, 'Henry will not at any rate be going lower than his father did when he married you;--not so low indeed, for at that time I was only a minor canon, and Mr Crawley is in possession of a benefice.'
'Papa, all this is nonsense. It is indeed.'
'Very likely, my dear.'
'It is not because Mr Crawley is only perpetual curate of Hogglestock that the archdeacon objects to the marriage. It has nothing to do with that at all. At the present moment he is in disgrace.'
'Under a cloud, my dear. Let us pray that it may only be a passing cloud.'
'All the world thinks that he is guilty. And then he is such a man;--so singular, so unlike anybody else!
Then there came tidings, addressed on this occasion to Mrs Grantly, that Cosby Lodge was to be given up. Lady-day had come, and the notice necessarily to be given at that period, was so given. 'I know this will grieve you,' Major Grantly had said, 'but my father has driven me to it.' This, in itself, was a cause of great sorrow, both to the archdeacon and to Mrs Grantly, as there were circumstances connected with Cosby Lodge which made them think that it was a very desirable residence for their son. 'I shall sell everything about the place and go abroad at once,' he said in a subsequent letter. 'My present idea is that, I shall settle myself at Pau, as my income will suffice for me to live there, and education for Edith will be cheap. At any rate I will not continue to live in England. I could never be happy here in circumstance so altered. Of course I should not have left my profession, unless I had understood from my father that the income arising from it would not be necessary to me. I do not, however, mean to complain, but simply to tell you that I shall go.' There were many letters between the mother and son in those days.
'I shall stay till after the trial,' he said. 'If she will then go with me, well and good; but whether she will or not, I shall not remain here.' All this seemed to Mrs Grantly to be peculiarly unfortunate, for had he not resolved to go, things might even yet have righted themselves. From what she could now understand of the character of Miss Crawley, whom she did not know personally, she thought it probable that Grace, in the event of her father being found guilty by the jury, would absolutely and persistently refuse the offer made to her. She would be too good, as Mrs Grantly put it to herself, to bring misery and disgrace into another family. But should Mr Crawley be acquitted, and should the marriage then take place, the archdeacon himself might probably be got to forgive it. In either case there would be no necessity for breaking up the house at Cosby Lodge. But her dear son Henry, her best beloved, was obstinate and stiff-necked and would take no advice. 'He is even worse than his father,' she said, in her short-lived anger, to her own father to whom alone at this time she could unburden her griefs, seeking consolation and encouragement.
It was her habit to go over to the deanery at any rate twice a week at this time, and on the occasion of one of the visits so made, she expressed very strongly her distress at the family quarrel which had come among them. The old man took his grandson's part through and through. 'I do not at all see why he should not marry the young lady if he likes her. As for money, there ought to be enough without his having to look for a wife with a fortune.'
'It is not a question of money, papa.'
'And as to rank,' continued Mr Harding, 'Henry will not at any rate be going lower than his father did when he married you;--not so low indeed, for at that time I was only a minor canon, and Mr Crawley is in possession of a benefice.'
'Papa, all this is nonsense. It is indeed.'
'Very likely, my dear.'
'It is not because Mr Crawley is only perpetual curate of Hogglestock that the archdeacon objects to the marriage. It has nothing to do with that at all. At the present moment he is in disgrace.'
'Under a cloud, my dear. Let us pray that it may only be a passing cloud.'
'All the world thinks that he is guilty. And then he is such a man;--so singular, so unlike anybody else!