<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_XXXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXXVI"></SPAN>CHAPTER XXXVI.</h2>
<p class="chapterhead">POPENJOY IS POPENJOY.</p>
<p><span class="firstwords">Then</span> came Lady Brabazon's party. Lord George said nothing
further to his wife about Jack De Baron for some days after that storm
in Berkeley Square,—nor did she to him. She was quite contented
that matters should remain as they now were. She had vindicated
herself, and if he made no further accusation, she was willing to be
appeased. He was by no means contented;—but as a day had been
fixed for them to leave London, and that day was now but a month
absent, he hardly knew how to insist upon an alteration of their
plans. If he did so he must declare war against the Dean, and, for a
time, against his wife also. He postponed, therefore, any decision,
and allowed matters to go on as they were. Mary was no doubt
triumphant in her spirit. She had conquered him for a time, and felt
that it was so. But she was, on that account, more tender and
observant to him than ever. She even offered to give up Lady
Brabazon's party, altogether. She did not much care for Lady
Brabazon's party, and was willing to make a sacrifice that was perhaps
no sacrifice. But to this he did not assent. He declared himself to
be quite ready for Lady Brabazon's party, and to Lady Brabazon's
party they went. As she was on the staircase she asked him a question.
"Do you mind my having a waltz to-night?" He could not bring
himself for the moment to be stern enough to refuse. He knew that
the pernicious man would not be there. He was quite sure that the
question was not asked in reference to the pernicious man. He did not
understand, as he should have done, that a claim was being made for
general emancipation, and he muttered something which was intended
to imply assent. Soon afterwards she took two or three turns with a
stout middle-aged gentleman, a Count somebody, who was connected
with the German embassy. Nothing on earth could have been more
harmless or apparently uninteresting. Then she signified to him that
she had done her duty to Lady Brabazon and was quite ready to go
home. "I'm not particularly bored," he said; "don't mind me."
"But I am," she whispered, laughing, "and as I know you don't
care about it, you might as well take me away." So he took her home.
They were not there above half-an-hour, but she had carried her
point about the waltzing.<!-- Page 236 --></p>
<p>On the next day the Dean came to town to attend a meeting at Mr.
Battle's chambers by appointment. Lord George met him there, of
course, as they were at any rate supposed to act in strict concert; but
on these days the Dean did not stay in Munster Court when in London.</p>
<p>He would always visit his daughter, but would endeavour to do so
in her husband's absence, and was unwilling even to dine there. "We
shall be better friends down at Brotherton," he said to her. "He is
always angry with me after discussing this affair of his brother's; and
I am not quite sure that he likes seeing me here." This he had said
on a previous occasion, and now the two men met in Lincoln's-Inn-Fields,
not having even gone there together.</p>
<p>At this meeting the lawyer told them a strange story, and one which
to the Dean was most unsatisfactory,—one which he resolutely determined
to disbelieve. "The Marquis," said Mr. Battle, "had certainly
gone through two marriage ceremonies with the Italian lady, one before
the death and one after the death of her first reputed husband. And as
certainly the so-called Popenjoy had been born before the second ceremony."
So much the Dean believed very easily, and the information
tallied altogether with his own views. If this was so, the so-called
Popenjoy could not be a real Popenjoy, and his daughter would be
Marchioness of Brotherton when this wicked ape of a marquis should
die; and her son, should she have one, would be the future marquis.
But then there came the remainder of the lawyer's story. Mr. Battle
was inclined, from all that he had learned, to believe that the
Marchioness had never really been married at all to the man whose
name she had first borne, and that the second marriage had been
celebrated merely to save appearances.</p>
<p>"What appearances!" exclaimed the Dean. Mr. Battle shrugged
his shoulders. Lord George sat in gloomy silence. "I don't believe
a word of it," said the Dean.</p>
<p>Then the lawyer went on with his story. This lady had been
betrothed early in life to the Marchese Luigi; but the man had become
insane—partially insane and by fits and starts. For some reason, not
as yet understood, which might probably never be understood, the
lady's family had thought it expedient that the lady should bear the
name of the man to whom she was to be married. She had done so
for some years and had been in possession of some income belonging
to him. But Mr. Battle was of opinion that she had never been Luigi's
wife. Further enquiries might possibly be made, and might add to
further results. But they would be very expensive. A good deal of
money had already been spent. "What did Lord George wish?"</p>
<p>"I think we have done enough," said Lord George, slowly,—thinking
also that he had been already constrained to do much too
much.</p>
<p>"It must be followed out to the end," said the Dean. "What!
Here is a woman who professed for years to be a man's wife, who<!-- Page 237 -->
bore his name, who was believed by everybody to have been his
wife——"</p>
<p>"I did not say that, Mr. Dean," interrupted the lawyer.</p>
<p>"Who lived on the man's revenues as his wife, and even bore his
title, and now in such an emergency as this we are to take a cock and
bull story as gospel. Remember, Mr. Battle, what is at stake."</p>
<p>"Very much is at stake, Mr. Dean, and therefore these enquiries
have been made,—at a very great expense. But our own evidence as
far as it goes is all against us. The Luigi family say that there was no
marriage. Her family say that there was, but cannot prove it. The
child may die, you know."</p>
<p>"Why should he die?" asked Lord George.</p>
<p>"I am trying the matter all round, you know. I am told the poor
child is in ill health. One has got to look at probabilities. Of course
you do not abandon a right by not prosecuting it now."</p>
<p>"It would be a cruelty to the boy to let him be brought up as
Lord Popenjoy and afterwards dispossessed," said the Dean.</p>
<p>"You, gentlemen, must decide," said the lawyer. "I only say
that I do not recommend further steps."</p>
<p>"I will do nothing further," said Lord George. "In the first place
I cannot afford it."</p>
<p>"We will manage that between us," said the Dean. "We need not
trouble Mr. Battle with that. Mr. Battle will not fear but that all
expenses will be paid."</p>
<p>"Not in the least," said Mr. Battle, smiling.</p>
<p>"I do not at all believe the story," said the Dean. "It does not
sound like truth. If I spent my last shilling in sifting the matter to
the bottom, I would go on with it. Though I were obliged to leave
England for twelve months myself, I would do it. A man is bound to
ascertain his own rights."</p>
<p>"I will have nothing more to do with it," said Lord George, rising
from his chair. "As much has been done as duty required; perhaps
more. Mr. Battle, good morning. If we could know as soon as
possible what this unfortunate affair has cost, I shall be obliged." He
asked his father-in-law to accompany him, but the Dean said that he
would speak a word or two further to Mr. Battle and remained.</p>
<p>At his club Lord George was much surprised to find a note from his
brother. The note was as follows:—</p>
<SPAN name="tn_pg_246"></SPAN><!--TN: I have used blockquoted text here similar to that used elsewhere in the text for letters-->
<div class="blockquot"><p>"Would you mind coming to me here to-morrow or the next day
at 3.</p>
<div class="closing">
<span class="presignature3"><SPAN name="tn_pg_246a"></SPAN><!-- TN: new paragraph added here-->"B. Scumberg's Hotel, Tuesday."<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p>This to Lord George was very strange indeed. He could not but
remember all the circumstances of his former visit to his brother,—how
he had been insulted, how his wife had been vilified, how his
brother had heaped scorn on him. At first he thought that he was
bound to refuse to do as he was asked. But why should his brother
ask him? And his brother was his brother,—the head of his family.<!-- Page 238 -->
He decided at last that he would go, and left a note himself at
Scumberg's Hotel that evening, saying that he would be there on the
morrow.</p>
<p>He was very much perplexed in spirit as he thought of the coming
interview. He went to the Dean's club and to the Dean's hotel,
hoping to find the Dean, and thinking that as he had consented to act
with the Dean against his brother, he was bound in honour to let the
Dean know of the new phase in the affair. But he did not find his father-in-law.
The Dean returned to Brotherton on the following morning,
and therefore knew nothing of this meeting till some days after it had
taken place. The language which the Marquis had used to his brother
they were last together had been such as to render any friendly intercourse
almost impossible. And then the mingled bitterness, frivolity,
and wickedness of his brother, made every tone of the man's voice and
every glance of his eye distasteful to Lord George. Lord George was
always honest, was generally serious, and never malicious. There
could be no greater contrast than that which had been produced
between the brothers, either by difference of disposition from their
birth, or by the varied circumstances of a residence on an Italian lake
and one at Manor Cross. The Marquis thought his brother to be a
fool, and did not scruple to say so on all occasions. Lord George felt
that his brother was a knave, but would not have so called him on any
consideration. The Marquis in sending for his brother hoped that
even after all that had passed, he might make use of Lord George.
Lord George in going to his brother, hoped that even after all that
had passed he might be of use to the Marquis.</p>
<p>When he was shown into the sitting-room at the hotel, the
Marchioness was again there. She, no doubt, had been tutored.
She got up at once and shook hands with her brother-in-law, smiling
graciously. It must have been a comfort to both of them that they
spoke no common language, as they could hardly have had many
thoughts to interchange with each other.</p>
<p>"I wonder why the deuce you never learned Italian," said the
Marquis.</p>
<p>"We never were taught," said Lord George.</p>
<p>"No;—nobody in England ever is taught anything but Latin and
Greek,—with this singular result, that after ten or a dozen years of
learning not one in twenty knows a word of either language. That is
our English idea of education. In after life a little French may be
picked up, from necessity; but it is French of the very worst kind.
My wonder is that Englishman can hold their own in the world
at all."</p>
<p>"They do," said Lord George,—to whom all this was ear-piercing
blasphemy. The national conviction that an Englishman could thrash
three foreigners, and if necessary eat them, was strong with him.</p>
<p>"Yes; there is a ludicrous strength even in their pig-headedness.<!-- Page 239 -->
But I always think that Frenchmen, Italians, and Prussians must in
dealing with us, be filled with infinite disgust. They must ever be
saying, 'pig, pig, pig,' beneath their breath, at every turn."</p>
<p>"They don't dare to say it out loud," said Lord George.</p>
<p>"They are too courteous, my dear fellow." Then he said a few
words to his wife in Italian, upon which she left the room, again
shaking hands with her brother-in-law, and again smiling.</p>
<p>Then the Marquis rushed at once into the middle of his affairs.</p>
<p>"Don't you think George that you are an infernal fool to quarrel
with me."</p>
<p>"You have quarrelled with me. I haven't quarrelled with you."</p>
<p>"Oh no;—not at all! When you send lawyer's clerks all over Italy
to try to prove my boy to be a bastard, and that is not quarrelling with
me! When you accuse my wife of bigamy that is not quarrelling with
me! When you conspire to make my house in the country too hot
to hold me, that is not quarrelling with me!"</p>
<p>"How have I conspired? with whom have I conspired?"</p>
<p>"When I explained my wishes about the house at Cross Hall, why
did you encourage those foolish old maids to run counter to me.
You must have understood pretty well that it would not suit either
of us to be near the other, and yet you chose to stick up for legal
rights."</p>
<p>"We thought it better for my mother."</p>
<p>"My mother would have consented to anything that I proposed.
Do you think I don't know how the land lies? Well; what have you
learned in Italy?" Lord George was silent. "Of course, I know.
I'm not such a fool as not to keep my ears and eyes open. As far as
your enquiries have gone yet, are you justified in calling Popenjoy a
bastard?"</p>
<p>"I have never called him so;—never. I have always declared my
belief and my wishes to be in his favour."</p>
<p>"Then why the d—— have you made all this rumpus?"</p>
<p>"Because it was necessary to be sure. When a man marries the
same wife twice over——"</p>
<p>"Have you never heard of that being done before? Are you so
ignorant as not to know that there are a hundred little reasons which
may make that expedient? You have made your enquiries now and
what is the result?"</p>
<p>Lord George paused a moment before he replied, and then answered
with absolute honesty. "It is all very odd to me. That may be my
English prejudice. But I do think that your boy is legitimate."</p>
<p>"You are satisfied as to that?"</p>
<p>He paused again, meditating his reply. He did not wish to be untrue
to the Dean, but then he was very anxious to be true to his brother.
He remembered that in the Dean's presence he had told the lawyer
that he would have nothing to do with further enquiries. He had<!-- Page 240 -->
asked for the lawyer's bill, thereby withdrawing from the investigation.
"Yes," he said slowly; "I am satisfied."</p>
<p>"And you mean to do nothing further?"</p>
<p>Again he was very slow, remembering how necessary it would be
that he should tell all this to the Dean, and how full of wrath the Dean
would be. "No; I do not mean to do anything further."</p>
<p>"I may take that as your settled purpose?"</p>
<p>There was another pause, and then he spoke, "Yes; you may."</p>
<p>"Then, George, let us try and forget what has passed. It cannot
pay for you and me to quarrel. I shall not stay in England very long.
I don't like it. It was necessary that the people about should know
that I had a wife and son, and so I brought him and her to this comfortless
country. I shall return before the winter, and for anything
that I care you may all go back to Manor Cross."</p>
<p>"I don't think my mother would like that."</p>
<p>"Why shouldn't she like it? I suppose I was to be allowed to have
my own house when I wanted it? I hope there was no offence in
that, even to that dragon Sarah? At any rate, you may as well look
after the property; and if they won't live there, you can. But there's
one question I want to ask you."</p>
<p>"Well?"</p>
<p>"What do you think of your precious father-in-law; and what do
you think that I must think of him? Will you not admit that for
a vulgar, impudent brute, he is about as bad as even England can
supply?" Of course Lord George had nothing to say in answer to
this. "He is going on with this tom-foolery, I believe?"</p>
<p>"You mean the enquiry?"</p>
<p>"Yes; I mean the enquiry whether my son and your nephew is a
bastard. I know he put you up to it. Am I right in saying that he
has not abandoned it?"</p>
<p>"I think you are right."</p>
<p>"Then by heaven I'll ruin him. He may have a little money, but
I don't think his purse is quite so long as mine. I'll lead him such a
dance that he shall wish he had never heard the name of Germain. I'll
make his deanery too hot to hold him. Now, George, as between you
and me this shall be all passed over. That poor child is not strong, and
after all you may probably be my heir. I shall never live in England,
and you are welcome to the house. I can be very bitter, but I can
forgive; and as far as you are concerned I do forgive. But I expect
you to drop your precious father-in-law." Lord George was again
silent. He could not say that he would drop the Dean; but at this
moment he was not sufficiently fond of the Dean to rise up in his
stirrups and fight a battle for him. "You understand me," continued
the Marquis, "I don't want any assurance from you. He is determined
to prosecute an enquiry adverse to the honour of your family, and in
opposition to your settled convictions. I don't think that after that<!-- Page 241 -->
you can doubt about your duty. Come and see me again before long;
won't you?" Lord George said that he would come again before long,
and then departed.</p>
<p>As he walked home his mind was sorely perplexed and divided. He
had made up his mind to take no further share in the Popenjoy investigation,
and must have been right to declare as much to his brother.
His conscience was clear as to that. And then there were many reasons
which induced him to feel coldly about the Dean. His own wife had
threatened him with her father. And the Dean was always driving
him. And he hated the Dean's money. He felt that the Dean was
not quite all that a gentleman should be. But, nevertheless, it behoved
him above all things to be honest and straightforward with the
Dean.</p>
<p>There had been something in his interview with his brother to
please him, but it had not been all delightful.</p>
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