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<h3>CHAPTER LXXXV.</h3>
<h4>THE BATHS OF LUCCA.<br/> </h4>
<p>June was now far advanced, and the Rowleys and the Spaldings had
removed from Florence to the Baths of Lucca. Mr. Glascock had
followed in their wake, and the whole party were living at the Baths
in one of those hotels in which so many English and Americans are
wont to congregate in the early weeks of the Italian summer. The
marriage was to take place in the last week of the month; and all the
party were to return to Florence for the occasion,—with the
exception of Sir Marmaduke and Mrs. Trevelyan. She was altogether
unfitted for wedding joys, and her father had promised to bear her
company when the others left her. Mr. Glascock and Caroline Spalding
were to be married in Florence, and were to depart immediately from
thence for some of the cooler parts of Switzerland. After that Sir
Marmaduke and Lady Rowley were to return to London with their
daughters, preparatory to that dreary journey back to the Mandarins;
and they had not even yet resolved what they had better do respecting
that unfortunate man who was living in seclusion on the hill-top near
Siena. They had consulted lawyers and doctors in Florence, but it had
seemed that everybody there was afraid of putting the law in force
against an Englishman. Doubtless there was a law in respect to the
custody of the insane; and it was admitted that if Trevelyan were
dangerously mad something could be done; but it seemed that nobody
was willing to stir in such a case as that which now existed.
Something, it was said, might be done at some future time; but the
difficulties were so great that nothing could be done now.</p>
<p>It was very sad, because it was necessary that some decision should
be made as to the future residence of Mrs. Trevelyan and of Nora.
Emily had declared that nothing should induce her to go to the
Islands with her father and mother unless her boy went with her.
Since her journey to Casalunga she had also expressed her
unwillingness to leave her husband. Her heart had been greatly
softened towards him, and she had declared that where he remained,
there would she remain,—as near to him as circumstances would admit.
It might be that at last her care would be necessary for his comfort.
He supplied her with means of living, and she would use these means
as well as she might be able in his service.</p>
<p>Then there had arisen the question of Nora's future residence. And
there had come troubles and storms in the family. Nora had said that
she would not go back to the Mandarins, but had not at first been
able to say where or how she would live. She had suggested that she
might stay with her sister, but her father had insisted that she
could not live on the income supplied by Trevelyan. Then, when
pressed hard, she had declared that she intended to live on Hugh
Stanbury's income. She would marry him at once,—with her father's
leave, if she could get it, but without it if it needs must be so.
Her mother told her that Hugh Stanbury was not himself ready for her;
he had not even proposed so hasty a marriage, nor had he any home
fitted for her. Lady Rowley, in arguing this, had expressed no assent
to the marriage, even as a distant arrangement, but had thought thus
to vanquish her daughter by suggesting small but insuperable
difficulties. On a sudden, however, Lady Rowley found that all this
was turned against her, by an offer that came direct from Mr.
Glascock. His Caroline, he said, was very anxious that Nora should
come to them at Monkhams as soon as they had returned home from
Switzerland. They intended to be there by the middle of August, and
would hurry there sooner, if there was any intermediate difficulty
about finding a home for Nora. Mr. Glascock said nothing about Hugh
Stanbury; but, of course, Lady Rowley understood that Nora had told
all her troubles and hopes to Caroline, and that Caroline had told
them to her future husband. Lady Rowley, in answer to this, could
only say that she would consult her husband.</p>
<p>There was something very grievous in the proposition to Lady Rowley.
If Nora had not been self-willed and stiff-necked beyond the usual
self-willedness and stiff-neckedness of young women she might have
been herself the mistress of Monkhams. It was proposed now that she
should go there to wait till a poor man should have got together
shillings enough to buy a few chairs and tables, and a bed to lie
upon! The thought of this was very bitter. "I cannot think, Nora, how
you could have the heart to go there," said Lady Rowley.</p>
<p>"I cannot understand why not, mamma. Caroline and I are friends, and
surely he and I need not be enemies. He has never injured me; and if
he does not take offence, why should I?"</p>
<p>"If you don't see it, I can't help it," said Lady Rowley.</p>
<p>And then Mrs. Spalding's triumph was terrible to Lady Rowley. Mrs.
Spalding knew nothing of her future son-in-law's former passion, and
spoke of her Caroline as having achieved triumphs beyond the reach of
other girls. Lady Rowley bore it, never absolutely telling the tale
of her daughter's fruitless victory. She was too good at heart to
utter the boast;—but it was very hard to repress it. Upon the whole
she would have preferred that Mr. Glascock and his bride should not
have become the fast friends of herself and her family. There was
more of pain than of pleasure in the alliance. But circumstances had
been too strong for her. Mr. Glascock had been of great use in
reference to Trevelyan, and Caroline and Nora had become attached to
each other almost on their first acquaintance. Here they were
together at the Baths of Lucca, and Nora was to be one of the four
bridesmaids. When Sir Marmaduke was consulted about this visit to
Monkhams, he became fretful, and would give no answer. The marriage,
he said, was impossible, and Nora was a fool. He could give her no
allowance more than would suffice for her clothes, and it was madness
for her to think of stopping in England. But he was so full of cares
that he could come to no absolute decision on this matter. Nora,
however, had come to a very absolute decision.</p>
<p>"Caroline," she said, "if you will have me, I will go to Monkhams."</p>
<p>"Of course we will have you. Has not Charles said how delighted he
would be?"</p>
<p>"Oh yes,—your Charles," said Nora, laughing.</p>
<p>"He is mine now, dear. You must not expect him to change his mind
again. I gave him the chance, you know, and he would not take it.
But, Nora, come to Monkhams, and stay as long as it suits. I have
talked it all over with him, and we both agree that you shall have a
home there. You shall be just like a sister. Olivia is coming too
after a bit; but he says there is room for a dozen sisters. Of course
it will be all right with Mr. Stanbury after a while." And so it was
settled among them that Nora Rowley should find a home at Monkhams,
if a home in England should be wanted for her.</p>
<p>It wanted but four days to that fixed for the marriage at Florence,
and but six to that on which the Rowleys were to leave Italy for
England, when Mr. Glascock received Trevelyan's letter. It was
brought to him as he was sitting at a late breakfast in the garden of
the hotel; and there were present at the moment not only all the
Spalding family, but the Rowleys also. Sir Marmaduke was there and
Lady Rowley, and the three unmarried daughters; but Mrs. Trevelyan,
as was her wont, had remained alone in her own room. Mr. Glascock
read the letter, and read it again, without attracting much
attention. Caroline, who was of course sitting next to him, had her
eyes upon him, and could see that the letter moved him; but she was
not curious, and at any rate asked no question. He himself understood
fully how great was the offer made,—how all-important to the
happiness of the poor mother,—and he was also aware, or thought that
he was aware, how likely it might be that the offer would be
retracted. As regarded himself, a journey from the Baths at Lucca to
Casalunga and back before his marriage, would be a great infliction
on his patience. It was his plan to stay where he was till the day
before his marriage, and then to return to Florence with the rest of
the party. All this must be altered, and sudden changes must be made,
if he decided on going to Siena himself. The weather now was very
hot, and such a journey would be most disagreeable to him. Of course
he had little schemes in his head, little amatory schemes for
prænuptial enjoyment, which, in spite of his mature years, were
exceedingly agreeable to him. The chestnut woods round the Baths of
Lucca are very pleasant in the early summer, and there were
excursions planned in which Caroline would be close to his
side,—almost already his wife. But, if he did not go, whom could he
send? It would be necessary at least that he should consult her, the
mother of the child, before any decision was formed.</p>
<p>At last he took Lady Rowley aside, and read to her the letter. She
understood at once that it opened almost a heaven of bliss to her
daughter;—and she understood also how probable it might be that that
wretched man, with his shaken wits, should change his mind. "I think
I ought to go," said Mr. Glascock.</p>
<p>"But how can you go now?"</p>
<p>"I can go," said he. "There is time for it. It need not put off my
marriage,—to which of course I could not consent. I do not know whom
I could send."</p>
<p>"Monnier could go," said Lady Rowley, naming the courier.</p>
<p>"Yes;—he could go. But it might be that he would return without the
child, and then we should not forgive ourselves. I will go, Lady
Rowley. After all, what does it signify? I am a little old, I
sometimes think, for this philandering. You shall take this letter to
your daughter, and I will explain it all to Caroline."</p>
<p>Caroline had not a word to say. She could only kiss him, and promise
to make him what amends she could when he came back. "Of course you
are right," she said. "Do you think that I would say a word against
it, even though the marriage were to be postponed?"</p>
<p>"I should;—a good many words. But I will be back in time for that,
and will bring the boy with me."</p>
<p>Mrs. Trevelyan, when her husband's letter was read to her, was almost
overcome by the feelings which it excited. In her first paroxysm of
joy she declared that she would herself go to Siena, not for her
child's sake, but for that of her husband. She felt at once that the
boy was being given up because of the father's weakness,—because he
felt himself to be unable to be a protector to his son,—and her
woman's heart was melted with softness as she thought of the
condition of the man to whom she had once given her whole heart.
Since then, doubtless, her heart had revolted from him. Since that
time there had come hours in which she had almost hated him for his
cruelty to her. There had been moments in which she had almost cursed
his name because of the aspersion which it had seemed that he had
thrown upon her. But this was now forgotten, and she remembered only
his weakness. "Mamma," she said, "I will go. It is my duty to go to
him." But Lady Rowley withheld her, explaining that were she to go,
the mission might probably fail in its express purpose. "Let Louey be
sent to us first," said Lady Rowley, "and then we will see what can
be done afterwards."</p>
<p>And so Mr. Glascock started, taking with him a maid-servant who might
help him with the charge of the child. It was certainly very hard
upon him. In order to have time for his journey to Siena and back,
and time also to go out to Casalunga, it was necessary that he should
leave the Baths at five in the morning. "If ever there was a hero of
romance, you are he!" said Nora to him.</p>
<p>"The heroes of life are so much better than the heroes of romance,"
said Caroline.</p>
<p>"That is a lesson from the lips of the American Browning," said Mr.
Glascock. "Nevertheless, I think I would rather ride a charge against
a Paynim knight in Palestine than get up at half-past four in the
morning."</p>
<p>"We will get up too, and give the knight his coffee," said Nora. They
did get up, and saw him off; and when Mr. Glascock and Caroline
parted with a lover's embrace, Nora stood by as a sister might have
done. Let us hope that she remembered that her own time was coming.</p>
<p>There had been a promise given by Nora, when she left London, that
she would not correspond with Hugh Stanbury while she was in Italy,
and this promise had been kept. It may be remembered that Hugh had
made a proposition to his lady-love, that she should walk out of the
house one fine morning, and get herself married without any reference
to her father's or her mother's wishes. But she had not been willing
to take upon herself as yet independence so complete as this would
have required. She had assured her lover that she did mean to marry
him some day, even though it should be in opposition to her father,
but that she thought that the period for filial persuasion was not
yet over; and then, in explaining all this to her mother, she had
given a promise neither to write nor to receive letters during the
short period of her sojourn in Italy. She would be an obedient child
for so long;—but, after that, she must claim the right to fight her
own battle. She had told her lover that he must not write; and, of
course, she had not written a word herself. But now, when her mother
threw it in her teeth that Stanbury would not be ready to marry her,
she thought that an unfair advantage was being taken of her,—and of
him. How could he be expected to say that he was ready,—deprived as
he was of the power of saying anything at all?</p>
<p>"Mamma," she said, the day before they went to Florence, "has papa
fixed about your leaving England yet? I suppose you'll go now on the
last Saturday in July?"</p>
<p>"I suppose we shall, my dear."</p>
<p>"Has not papa written about the berths?"</p>
<p>"I believe he has, my dear."</p>
<p>"Because he ought to know who are going. I will not go."</p>
<p>"You will not, Nora. Is that a proper way of speaking?"</p>
<p>"Dear mamma, I mean it to be proper. I hope it is proper. But is it
not best that we should understand each other? All my life depends on
my going or my staying now. I must decide."</p>
<p>"After what has passed, you do not, I suppose, mean to live in Mr.
Glascock's house?"</p>
<p>"Certainly not. I mean to live with,—with,—with my husband. Mamma,
I promised not to write, and I have not written. And he has not
written,—because I told him not. Therefore, nothing is settled. But
it is not fair to throw it in my teeth that nothing is settled."</p>
<p>"I have thrown nothing in your teeth, Nora."</p>
<p>"Papa talks sneeringly about chairs and tables. Of course, I know
what he is thinking of. As I cannot go with him to the Mandarins, I
think I ought to be allowed to look after the chairs and tables."</p>
<p>"What do you mean, my dear?"</p>
<p>"That you should absolve me from my promise, and let me write to Mr.
Stanbury. I do not want to be left without a home."</p>
<p>"You cannot wish to write to a gentleman and ask him to marry you!"</p>
<p>"Why not? We are engaged. I shall not ask him to marry me,—that is
already settled; but I shall ask him to make arrangements."</p>
<p>"Your papa will be very angry if you break your word to him."</p>
<p>"I will write, and show you the letter. Papa may see it, and if he
will not let it go, it shall not go. He shall not say that I broke my
word. But, mamma, I will not go out to the Islands. I should never
get back again, and I should be broken-hearted." Lady Rowley had
nothing to say to this; and Nora went and wrote her letter. "Dear
Hugh," the letter ran, "Papa and mamma leave England on the last
Saturday in July. I have told mamma that I cannot return with them.
Of course, you know why I stay. Mr. Glascock is to be married the day
after to-morrow, and they have asked me to go with them to Monkhams
some time in August. I think I shall do so, unless Emily wants me to
remain with her. At any rate, I shall try to be with her till I go
there. You will understand why I tell you all this. Papa and mamma
know that I am writing. It is only a business letter, and, therefore,
I shall say no more, except that I am ever and always
yours,—<span class="smallcaps">Nora</span>."
"There," she said, handing her letter to her mother, "I think that
that ought to be sent. If papa chooses to prevent its going, he can."</p>
<p>Lady Rowley, when she handed the letter to her husband, recommended
that it should be allowed to go to its destination. She admitted
that, if they sent it, they would thereby signify their consent to
her engagement;—and she alleged that Nora was so strong in her will,
and that the circumstances of their journey out to the Antipodes were
so peculiar, that it was of no avail for them any longer to oppose
the match. They could not force their daughter to go with them. "But
I can cast her off from me, if she be disobedient," said Sir
Marmaduke. Lady Rowley, however, had no desire that her daughter
should be cast off, and was aware that Sir Marmaduke, when it came to
the point of casting off, would be as little inclined to be stern as
she was herself. Sir Marmaduke, still hoping that firmness would
carry the day, and believing that it behoved him to maintain his
parental authority, ended the discussion by keeping possession of the
letter, and saying that he would take time to consider the matter.
"What security have we that he will ever marry her, if she does
stay?" he asked the next morning. Lady Rowley had no doubt on this
score, and protested that her opposition to Hugh Stanbury arose
simply from his want of income. "I should never be justified," said
Sir Marmaduke, "if I were to go and leave my girl as it were in the
hands of a penny-a-liner." The letter, in the end, was not sent; and
Nora and her father hardly spoke to each other as they made their
journey back to Florence together.</p>
<p>Emily Trevelyan, before the arrival of that letter from her husband,
had determined that she would not leave Italy. It had been her
purpose to remain somewhere in the neighbourhood of her husband and
child; and to overcome her difficulties,—or be overcome by them, as
circumstances might direct. Now her plans were again changed,—or,
rather, she was now without a plan. She could form no plan till she
should again see Mr. Glascock. Should her child be restored to her,
would it not be her duty to remain near her husband? All this made
Nora's line of conduct the more difficult for her. It was
acknowledged that she could not remain in Italy. Mrs. Trevelyan's
position would be most embarrassing; but as all her efforts were to
be used towards a reconciliation with her husband, and as his state
utterly precluded the idea of a mixed household,—of any such a
family arrangement as that which had existed in Curzon Street,—Nora
could not remain with her. Mrs. Trevelyan herself had declared that
she would not wish it. And, in that case, where was Nora to bestow
herself when Sir Marmaduke and Lady Rowley had sailed? Caroline
offered to curtail those honeymoon weeks in Switzerland, but it was
impossible to listen to an offer so magnanimous and so unreasonable.
Nora had a dim romantic idea of sharing Priscilla's bed-room in that
small cottage near Nuncombe Putney, of which she had heard, and of
there learning lessons in strict economy;—but of this she said
nothing. The short journey from the Baths of Lucca to Florence was
not a pleasant one, and the Rowley family were much disturbed as they
looked into the future. Lodgings had now been taken for them, and
there was the great additional doubt whether Mrs. Trevelyan would
find her child there on her arrival.</p>
<p>The Spaldings went one way from the Florence station, and the Rowleys
another. The American Minister had returned to the city some days
previously,—drawn there nominally by pleas of business, but, in
truth, by the necessities of the wedding breakfast,—and he met them
at the station. "Has Mr. Glascock come back?" Nora was the first to
ask. Yes;—he had come. He had been in the city since two o'clock,
and had been up at the American Minister's house for half a minute.
"And has he brought the child?" asked Caroline, relieved of doubt on
her own account. Mr. Spalding did not know;—indeed, he had not
interested himself quite so intently about Mrs. Trevelyan's little
boy, as had all those who had just returned from the Baths. Mr.
Glascock had said nothing to him about the child, and he had not
quite understood why such a man should have made a journey to Siena,
leaving his sweetheart behind him, just on the eve of his marriage.
He hurried his women-kind into their carriage, and they were driven
away; and then Sir Marmaduke was driven away with his women-kind.
Caroline Spalding had perhaps thought that Mr. Glascock might have
been there to meet her.</p>
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