"I will do what you think is best, dear old friend," said I; "but please to leave me by myself a little just now."
And he did so; and I battled with my own heart and subdued it, and when Marmaduke and Lucy were married I was present.
"My dear Peter, your hand is as cold as a stone!" exclaimed the bridegroom, when he wished me "Good-bye" that day. But Lucy said nothing, save "Good-bye, Peter;" and even to that I could not reply. They were very happy, those two, as indeed they deserved to be. Whatever was wanting at that time in him, her good sense supplied; while in her, neither then nor afterwards, was there anything wanting. She had sympathized as much as lay in her power in the tastes and opinions of her father; she had had a bringing-up which, in these days, would have at least resulted in what is called a strong-minded woman, rather as opposed to a gentle one. This could scarcely, indeed, have been the case with Lucy, but her marriage with Marmaduke made it impossible. Her mind had heretofore been, as it were, all orchard, bringing forth fine and vigorous fruit; a portion of it now became a garden, producing flowers dainty and rare. Her teacher being also her lover, it was no wonder that her progress was rapid; and it is probable that the young student had never found his studies so sweet as when communicating them to such a pupil. From her father, she had learned philosophy; from her husband, how to appreciate all that was beautiful in Nature and touching in Song. As for her politics, Marmaduke was infinitely more solicitous to imbue her with correct views respecting the poets, which, perhaps, was fortunate enough. She would never have admitted, even to please him, that her beloved, father was wrong, or even extreme in his views of government; and, in truth, those opinions of hers—so enthusiastic, so trustful, and founded upon the mistake of believing all her fellow-creatures as guileless as herself—gave her conversation, an added charm. To hear her talk of wrongs and rights, with heightened colour and earnest eyes—no matter how elevated the rank of the person addressed, nor how nearly connected with the very executive of whose acts she was complaining—was enough to make a bishop exchange his mitre for a white hat, and adopt the Thirty-nine Articles recommended by Mr. Hone.
"Judge Jeffreys himself could never have had the heart to condemn my Lucy for a rebel," Mr. Harvey Gerard was wont to say; "although," he would add, with a cynical twinkle in his eye, "I would not trust my Lord Ellenborough."
Mr. Long and myself were both in Harley Street upon the day when Marmaduke came of age; and after dinner, Mr. Clint made a little speech, not without connivance, I think, beforehand with others of the party. He observed, that gratifying as was the occasion in question in all respects, it was most satisfactory to himself, as concluding the period which Marmaduke had assigned as the limit of his abstaining from taking his rightful position in the world. He ventured to say this much upon his own part, as having been connected with the Heath family for a lengthened period; but he would also say for others—what he knew they would be backward to say for themselves—that his young friend owed it to them also not to delay the matter any longer.
Marmaduke's face expressed more painful agitation than I had seen it wear for months. "I suppose you are right, Mr. Clint," he returned; "and, at all events, I will be as good as my word, which I passed to Mrs. Heath," and he looked at his wife, as though he would have appealed to her to release him from that promise.
"Of course, I am right, sir," returned the lawyer quickly; "but you are wrong and very uncivil not to give your wife her proper title. Lady Heath, I beg to drink your very good health; Sir Marmaduke, here's to your better manners;" and the lawyer emptied his glass, and filled it up again, in case any other excuse should arise for the drinking of good liquor.
"Lady Heath's health; her husband's better manners," echoed laughingly round the table.
Marmaduke nerved himself by a strong effort, and replied to this toast with feeling and eloquence. He promised to accede to the request made by Mr. Clint, and to that end would return with us to Fairburn on the next day but one to make his arrangements personally for coming to reside at the Hall. As for his not having assumed the title, he protested, amidst merriment, that he had not hitherto done so, solely out of deference to the feelings of his father-in-law, whom he had once heard describe a baronet as a something only not quite so bad as a lord.
We were all delighted not only with the intentions Marmaduke thus expressed, but with the cheerfulness and gaiety of his manner in speaking of them; and when the rest had retired for the night, and my old friend and I were in my room having that last chat by the midnight fire which is perhaps the zenith of human converse, as the curtain lecture is undoubtedly the nadir, I could not help congratulating him on his change of spirits. "That you are a happy man, I know," said I; "you would be ungrateful indeed if you were otherwise. But I cannot say how pleased I am to find that the good Genius, who has so blessed you in other respects, has exorcised this phantom fear of yours; that you no longer dread that childish bugbear, Sir Massingberd."