This looked as if there was an understanding between Mrs. Franklin and Katy with regard to rooms, while the quantity of baggage which came from the depot in the express wagon looked very much as if the Burleighs had come for good, with no intention of leaving. This was a condition of things of which Mrs. Walter Scott did not approve; but there was something in the gleam of Mrs. Bell’s black eyes which warned her to be careful what she said. She was a little afraid of Bell and so kept quiet until she heard from her own maid that “the old gentleman” was putting his books on the shelves, which, unknown to her, had been conveyed into his room, and was arranging a lot of stones, and snails, and birds. Then she could keep still no longer, but attacked her son with the question:
“Are all the Burleighs to live here in future? I did not suppose you married the entire family.”
Frank had looked forward to a time when some such question would be propounded to him, and was glad it had come. Once he had been afraid of his mother, and he was still a good deal in awe of her and her opinions, but upstairs was a lady whom he feared more, though she had never spoken to him except in the mildest, softest manner, and he wisely resolved to let his mother know the worst which had befallen her, and told her, as gently as possible, and with the tone of one who was communicating a piece of good news, that the Burleighs were a rather singular family, very strongly attached to each other; yes, very strongly attached, that they never had been separated, and that Bell had accepted him only on condition that they should not be separated, but live together at Millbank as they had done at Boston.
There was intense scorn in Mrs. Walter Scott’s eyes, and in her voice, as she said, “And so you have taken upon yourself the maintenance of four instead of one!”
“Why, no,—not exactly,—that is,—Judge Burleigh and Charlie, and—yes, and Charlie—”
Frank was getting matters somewhat confused, and did not quite know how to make it clear to his mother’s mind that Charlie would only trouble them till he was set up in business, and that Judge Burleigh’s society and the pleasure of having so polished and agreeable a gentleman in the house was a sufficient compensation for any expense he might be to them; but she understood him at last, and knew that the Judge and Charlie were there for good, and the rooms they occupied had been fitted up expressly for them without a reference to her or her wishes in the matter. Had she known of the hundred thousand made over to Bell she would have gone mad. As it was, she flew into a towering passion, accusing Frank of being in leading-strings and henpecked, and threatening to leave and go back to New York, as she presumed he wished she would. Frank did not wish any such thing. His mother was more necessary to him now than before his marriage, for he was generally sure of her sympathy, which was more than he could say of his wife. So he soothed and quieted her as best he could, and when she referred to his recent loss by fire, and asked how he could burden himself with so large a family, he told her a lie, and said he should be able to recover a part of the insurance, and that even if he did not, his income was sufficient to warrant his present style of living, and she need have no fears for him; or if she had, he would settle something upon her at once, so that in case he failed entirely she would not be penniless. This was a happy thought, and Mrs. Walter Scott consented to be mollified and let the Burleighs remain in quiet in consideration of twenty-five thousand dollars in bonds and mortgages and railroad stock which Frank agreed to give her, and which he did convey that very day. She had at first asked for fifty thousand, but had agreed to be satisfied with twenty-five, and Frank went to his dinner a poorer man by over two hundred thousand dollars than he had been when Millbank came into his possession. His wife’s settlement and his mother’s, and his recent heavy expenditures, had drawn largely upon his means for procuring ready money whenever he wanted it, and as he sat at his table, loaded with silver and groaning with luxuries, he felt almost as poor as he had done in days gone by, when he had not enough to pay his tailor and furnish himself with cigars. And still he was rich in lands, and the mill, and houses, and he tried to shake off his feelings of despondency and to believe himself very happy with that beautiful wife beside him, who let him pare her peach for her, and took grapes from his own cluster, and playfully pushed the wine bottle aside when he was about to help himself for a second time.
Mrs. Walter Scott was cold as an icicle, and not all the Judge’s suavity of manner had power to thaw her. She had promised not to say anything disagreeable to the Burleighs, but her face was very expressive of her dislike, and she could hardly answer either the Judge or Charlie with common civility. She did not object to Grace; and she was even guilty of wishing Frank’s choice had fallen upon the younger rather than the elder sister, against whom she could, as yet, bring no accusation, but whom she distrusted and secretly feared. Bell thoroughly understood her mother-in-law, and knew tolerably well how to manage her. As Frank’s wife, she was mistress of Millbank, and though she made no show of her authority, her power was felt in everything; and after she had reigned a month or more, not a servant, with the exception of Mrs. Walter Scott’s own maid, went to their former mistress for orders, but received them from the new lady, who was very popular with them, and who, to a certain extent, was popular in town. She could not endure most of the people by whom she was surrounded; but she had made up her mind that it was better to be admired than hated, and she adopted the rôle of Patroness, or Lady Bountiful, and played her part well, as Frank knew by his purse, so often drawn from when Bell and Grace had some poor family on their hands.
Grace did not go back to school. Millbank was intolerable to the bride without the presence of her light-hearted, merry little sister; and so Grace stayed and studied at home, under a governess, to whom Frank paid five hundred dollars a year; and paid it the more willingly when he found that the pretty Miss North admired him above all men, and was not averse to receiving compliments from him, even in the presence of his wife. Bell did not care how many governesses he complimented, provided he did not say his soft nothings to her. Had he affected a great fondness for her, and bored her with attentions and caresses, she would have hated him, but he had sense enough to see that love-making was not her style, and so he contented himself with being the possessor of the beautiful and expensive article, which he knew better than to handle or touch. She was always very polite and gracious towards him, but after a few weeks he ceased to pet or caress her, and almost always called her Mrs. Irving, and studied her wishes in everything, except in the matter of horses and Holt; there he was his own master, and did as he liked, and bought as many horses as he chose, and went to the races, and bet largely, and made Holt his chief man of business, and gave him money to expend on double teams and single teams, and trusted him implicitly; and when people asked where Holt got his means to live as he was living now, Frank had no suspicions whatever, but said, “Joe Holt was a first-rate chap, the best judge and manager of horses he ever saw, and ought to succeed in life.”
And so the autumn waned, and the Christmas holidays were kept at Millbank on a grand scale, and young people were there from Boston,—friends of Grace and friends of Bell,—and the festivities were kept up sometimes till two or three o’clock in the morning, and some of the young men became very noisy and unmanageable, and among them Charlie, while Frank was undeniably drunk, and was carried to his room and given into the care of his wife! Then Bell rose in her might, and locked up the wine and sent the fast young men home, and gave Charlie a lecture he never forgot, and made him join the Good Templars forthwith, and what was better, made him keep the pledge. What she did to Frank nobody knew,—locked him up, the servants said. At all events, he kept his room for two days, and only came out of it after the New Yorkers were gone to their respective homes. Then he looked very meek and crestfallen, like a naughty boy who has been punished, and his mother pitied him and tried to sympathize, and made him so very angry that he was guilty of swearing at her, and bidding her let him and Bell and their affairs alone. And Mrs. Walter Scott did let them alone for a while, and stayed a great deal in her own room, and had her meals served there, and took to writing a book, for which she always thought she had a talent. It was about mismated people, and the good heroine looked very much like Mrs. Walter Scott, and the bad one like Mrs. Franklin Irving, while the villain was a compound of Judge Burleigh, and Charlie, and Holt, the horse-jockey.