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

by G. P. R. James

Charles heard him in perfect silence; not without being a good deal irritated indeed, and feeling his own fiery nature rising up to resist; but he struggled against himself and conquered, though we must acknowledge that the effect upon his mind was to render it irritable and out of sorts for some time after. He thanked his stars, however, when at length he heard the breakfast-bell ring before he had given way to anything that he felt; and his father hearing it also, and not being nearly ready, yet valuing himself highly upon his punctuality, hurried Charles rapidly out of the room to make breakfast, saying, that he knew very well that Lady Tyrrell would not be down. Charles Tyrrell knew the contrary, being perfectly assured that, on the last morning of his stay at Harbury Park, his mother would not fail to be at the breakfast-table, well or ill.

He accordingly found her there on his arrival, and before even Mr. Driesen appeared he had an opportunity of explaining to Lady Tyrrell that his journey was put off, and also of giving her a hint of the sort of mood in which his father seemed to be. The moment that she heard what were the facts, Lady Tyrrell determined to make her escape from the breakfast-table, and got away before Sir Francis appeared.

As soon as he came down, however, he began to remark on her absence, saying, that he did think, on that day at least, she might have been down. "I suppose she chooses to be unwell," he continued, "but I do think she might have put that off till another morning, when she knew that you were going to Oxford for two or three months."

"I have just seen my mother for a moment, sir," replied Charles, "and told her I was not going. Though she was unwell, she intended to have been at breakfast if my departure had not been disarranged."

What the reply of Sir Francis might have been cannot be told, for his ingenuity in discovering matter of offence when he wished it was almost superhuman; but at that moment Mr. Driesen entered, with his gay, good-humoured air, apparently thinking of the merest trifles in the world, but all the time remarking everything around him, down to the least motion and gesture of his companions, with a shrewdness that placed the greater part of their thoughts at his disposal. He instantly saw that the father and son were not upon the most placable grounds in the world, and he cut across the subject with a gay sally, and a happy quotation from a Greek author; and then insisted upon Sir Francis giving his opinion upon an obscure epigram which he declared to be written by Martial, but which, in truth, he had himself manufactured between the door and the breakfast-table.

This gave some change to the feelings with which the morning had commenced, and matters passed on very quietly till about eleven o'clock. At that hour, however, Sir Francis began to be irritable and anxious regarding the return of the constables and officers whom he had despatched in the morning. They had not made their appearance, however, though he twice rang the bell to inquire if "the people" had come. The reply was still in the negative, and he found that up to half past eleven no one had arrived, nor had two messengers returned whom he had sent to call for the assistance of two brother magistrates who lived at some distance.

As time went by he became still more anxious and irritable, and it soon appeared that he had promised Mrs. Effingham to come down to the manor-house at twelve o'clock, in order to speak with her in regard to some improvements and alterations which she had proposed. His punctuality in regard to time he believed to be almost proverbial in the neighbourhood, and he would not have forfeited that reputation for a great deal; but yet it became evident that he could not fulfil his engagement; and after a great deal of hesitation, and many hints to his son, which Charles did not choose to take, he proposed to him straightforwardly to go down to the manor-house, and explain to Mrs. Effingham why he could not come.

"I must remain," he said, "to receive the magistrates, and it is very evident now that I cannot get away from them in time."

Charles had laid out for himself a walk down to the manor-house in the afternoon, and had thought that, very likely, if he could persuade Lady Tyrrell to go down with him at that hour, Lucy might be induced to take a drive or a ride with them. He therefore was not at all disposed to cut himself off from going in the evening by going in the morning, when a great probability existed of his neither seeing Mrs. Effingham nor her daughter. He ventured to say, then, "Cannot you send a servant with a note, sir? Mrs. Effingham may think it strange my breaking in upon them at this hour."

Sir Francis drew himself up with marked politeness. "I beg your pardon, sir," he said; "I forgot that I ought not to make my son a messenger; or perhaps it is that he sees his father has a particular regard for Mrs. and Miss Effingham, and therefore wishes to mark his own difference of opinion."