Charles Tyrrell; or, The Bitter Blood. Volumes I and II

by G. P. R. James

Lady Tyrrell shook her head, and Charles went on. "Well, well, my dear mother, it does not signify; at all events, I am very glad that you have given no encouragement to this scheme of my father's; for, depend upon it, it must and will fail."

"I would have encouraged it on no account whatsoever," replied Lady Tyrrell; "I should have thought it unjust and wrong in every respect; but I am sorry to say that it has been the cause of as bitter a quarrel between myself and your father as ever occurred, and they have been but too many. He wished me to write and invite Mrs. Effingham here; but I would not do so. I had never seen her, for Mr. Effingham was not married when I was last at his father's house; and as your father had often spoken of Mrs. Effingham as of a weak, poor-minded person, with whom he did not wish me to keep up any acquaintance, of course I never made the attempt; but I could not be expected suddenly to turn round and affect great regard for persons I had never seen, and towards whom I had shown some neglect. If, immediately after Mr. Effingham's death, your father had asked me to write, and, as a matter of kindness, invited Mrs. Effingham here for change of scene, I would have done it with pleasure; but when it was to press her to come hither after two or three months had elapsed, and to say everything I could in my letter to forward a scheme I disapproved, of course I endeavoured to avoid doing so; and on my showing the least reluctance, your father took fire, and spoke and acted as you can conceive. He has scarcely ever opened his lips to me since, except, indeed, the other day, when he informed me that he himself had written to Mrs. Effingham, and that she had accepted his invitation, which, of course, did not raise her very high in my opinion. All the other arrangements were concluded too, I find; so that she has taken the manor, and is about to reside there with her daughter till Lucy becomes of age, and is, consequently, no longer under your father's guardianship. Everything will be prepared to receive them there in about ten days. In the mean time, they come here before the end of the week; what day I do not well know, as I have not been informed. I shall treat them, of course, with kindness and civility, and trust you will do the same; for your father has the fullest right to expect that at our hands, though I cannot write hypocritically pressing invitations to people that I not wish to see."

The impression produced on the mind of Charles Tyrrell by the account which his mother gave him, was certainly anything but pleasant in regard to Mistress and Miss Effingham; and certain it is that, although he, as well as Lady Tyrrell, made up their minds to perform every external act of civility, yet there was a predetermination on the part of both to make that civility so cold and icy as to cut short every project of an alliance with one whom they were resolved to dislike.

Their conversation then turned to other subjects, on which it is not necessary to dwell; and the only thing which occurred further between the mother and son worthy of remark, was, that Charles Tyrrell, who had always entertained a great antipathy to the name of Lucy, took pains to repeat it with particular emphasis whenever the conversation returned to Mistress and Miss Effingham.

In the evening Lady Tyrrell came down to dinner, which she had not done for several days before; and willing to make her son's return home as cheerful as she could, she restrained, as far as possible, every appearance of bearing in mind the dispute between her husband and herself, though it had thrown her into a fit of illness. Acting on the same principle, she suffered Mr. Driesen to take her unresisting hand, and in reply to several speeches, which he purposely rendered extravagantly gallant, she uttered some civil words, of course.

Sir Francis, in the course of his walk, seemed to have been tutored to politeness by Mr. Driesen, and both to his wife and son behaved with an unusual degree of courteousness, though the very nature and constitution of his mind prevented him from abstaining altogether from an occasional sneer or sarcasm. In fact, his very politeness savoured thereof, and there was nine times out of ten as much bitter as sweet in everything he said.

On the whole, however, the evening passed over more pleasantly than usual; and though both Lady Tyrrell and her son were well aware that no real change for the better had taken place, they were only too anxious to protract, as long as possible, the temporary suspension of strife and irritation. It was to be remarked, too, that every time Mr. Driesen found Sir Francis Tyrrell touching upon dangerous ground, he skilfully contrived to draw him away, by throwing some new element into the conversation of such a kind as he knew Sir Francis Tyrrell would dash at, forgetful of what went before. Thus the whole party were, in fact, in a much more placable mood, when the rush of a carriage wheels was heard indistinctly through the open doors, and a loud peal upon the bell called the servants to the gate.

CHAPTER V.

Sir Francis Tyrrell heard the sounds, but, for a moment, took no farther notice of them than by raising his eyes, with a meaning look, to the countenance of Driesen, who was sitting at a little distance, in an attitude which he was very fond of, when busy in propounding some of his own speculative opinions, which he knew were likely to sound harsh in the ears of some of the persons present. It was an attitude entirely composed of angles, one knee nearly up to his chin, which was itself long and pointed, one arm thrust behind his back, the other bent into a sharp angle to support his head, and his whole body leaning forward, with his under jaw a little protruding. Charles Tyrrell used to say, when he saw him in this attitude, that he was knotted into a theorem; but, nevertheless, the attitude, which was beyond all doubt studied, was not without its effect upon those who saw it, from its very extravagance.

He also heard the carriage, and stopped in the midst of a disquisition which he was addressing to Sir Francis, as to whether the religion of the Greeks and Romans was not more rational than Christianity. Lady Tyrrell was working and hearing as little as possible, and Charles Tyrrell sat by his mother drawing a flower for her embroidery, and from time to time addressing her in a low voice, with a running comment upon Driesen's discourse, which certainly would not have gratified that gentleman to hear.