CHAPTER XXII
THE case of Blagdon v. Blagdon and Lumley divided the County into factions and separated chief friends. Some said, that now they thoroughly understood why Blagdon was reluctant to produce his wife in Society; obviously she was mentally unsound—a woman who ran away, and returned to him the next day! She had been a shy, odd creature from the first. The opposition were violent partisans, and declared that a girl so young, pretty, and innocent, had been driven to desperation by the brutality of her monster of a husband. It was a curious but not uncommon circumstance, that most of the women took the part of the man; whilst the men-folk, and in great numbers, were solid for the lady.
Letty’s few relatives lived in Ireland, and were not a little shocked to learn of her being mixed up in a scandal. They hid the paper from their friends, and discussed their black sheep in horrified whispers. The character of Mr. Blagdon had not been wafted across the Irish sea.
When the newly married couple were in London, one or two of the Irish clan had attempted to make their cousin’s acquaintance—not because she had made a great match, but that it was an opportunity of seeing poor Dermot’s daughter, and blood is thicker than water. However, their civil advances were rudely repulsed by Hugo (who hated the Irish as a nation) and did not want to be bothered with a pack of his wife’s relatives; and they merely saw a heavy-browed, formidable personage, and a pretty, shy girl with stiff manners. And now this pretty, shy girl had come to grief—wealth and importance had turned her silly little head. It was a pity!
The Blagdon-Lumley case, was entirely circumstantial, and the chain of evidence complete; the petitioner, a wealthy man; no enterprising legal firm came forward as a speculation to take up the co-respondent’s side, and the suit was undefended. Lumley had again repaired to Mr. Ross (Ross, Carbery & Co.), and told a plain, unvarnished tale, assuring them of the lady’s innocence on his solemn word of honour. The firm listened with agreeable sympathy, but declared, that there was nothing to be done, but face the consequences of an act of folly. Mrs. Blagdon had run away from her husband, leaving a letter of confession; she had joined their client in London openly, and left the hotel in his company. It was true, that she had repented, and next day presented herself at home in the character of a reformed wife; but it wouldn’t do—no, it would not do.
“I understand, that she is extraordinarily good-looking,” added Mr. Ross, “and that might give her a chance with the jury; but if you will take my advice, Captain Lumley, and speaking in the character of a friend, you will not attempt to defend the case. The less mud-throwing the better—all can be arranged between Mr. Blagdon’s lawyers and ourselves; at the end of six months there will be the usual decree, and I take it for granted, that you will marry the lady?”
But, as it happened, the lady absolutely refused to marry Lumley. For some time she had been in a state of collapse, under the roof and the care of her friend at Oldcourt. She seemed to be in a dazed condition, her recent experience appeared to have exercised an almost paralysing effect on her thinking faculties, and when she recovered, and was informed that the trial was over, that Hugo had generously settled five hundred a year upon her, and she was free to marry again; she assured Maude Hesketh and Mrs. Denton that nothing in the world would induce her to do so. No arguments affected her, and she positively declined to see Lancelot Lumley.
“I have done him enough harm as it is,” she pleaded, “and I only hope he may forget me.”
So Captain Lumley went out to his new regiment, which was quartered in Peshawur, with an empty pocket, a sore heart, and a somewhat damaged reputation.
It is perhaps needless to mention, that Mrs. Fenchurch did not spare the culprit when she came to Oldcourt to visit and upbraid her. Letty sat listening and gazing in helpless silence, whilst her aunt had her ‘say.’ After a vigorous arraignment of her conduct, and her shameful abandonment of a splendid position, she concluded: