Doctor Thorne

A >> Anthony Trollope >> Doctor Thorne


So she put on her straw bonnet and walked up with Beatrice. Everybody
about the place had already heard the news. The old woman at the
lodge curtsied low to her; the gardener, who was mowing the lawn. The
butler, who opened the front door--he must have been watching Mary's
approach--had manifestly put on a clean white neckcloth for the
occasion.

"God bless you once more, Miss Thorne!" said the old man, in a
half-whisper. Mary was somewhat troubled, for everything seemed,
in a manner, to bow down before her. And why should not everything
bow down before her, seeing that she was in truth the owner of
Greshamsbury?

And then a servant in livery would open the big drawing-room door.
This rather upset both Mary and Beatrice. It became almost impossible
for Mary to enter the room just as she would have done two years ago;
but she got through the difficulty with much self-control.

"Mamma, here's Mary," said Beatrice.

Nor was Lady Arabella quite mistress of herself, although she had
studied minutely how to bear herself.

"Oh, Mary, my dear Mary; what can I say to you?" and then, with a
handkerchief to her eyes, she ran forward and hid her face on Miss
Thorne's shoulders. "What can I say--can you forgive me my anxiety
for my son?"

"How do you do, Lady Arabella?" said Mary.

"My daughter! my child! my Frank's own bride! Oh, Mary! oh, my child!
If I have seemed unkind to you, it has been through love to him."

"All these things are over now," said Mary. "Mr Gresham told me
yesterday that I should be received as Frank's future wife; and so,
you see, I have come." And then she slipped through Lady Arabella's
arms, and sat down, meekly down, on a chair. In five minutes she
had escaped with Beatrice into the school-room, and was kissing the
children, and turning over the new trousseau. They were, however,
soon interrupted, and there was, perhaps, some other kissing besides
that of the children.

"You have no business in here at all, Frank," said Beatrice. "Has he,
Mary?"

"None in the world, I should think."

"See what he has done to my poplin; I hope you won't have your things
treated so cruelly. He'll be careful enough about them."

"Is Oriel a good hand at packing up finery--eh, Beatrice?" asked
Frank.

"He is, at any rate, too well-behaved to spoil it." Thus Mary was
again made at home in the household of Greshamsbury.

Lady Arabella did not carry out her little plan of delaying the Oriel
wedding. Her idea had been to add some grandeur to it, in order to
make it a more fitting precursor of that other greater wedding which
was to follow so soon in its wake. But this, with the assistance of
the countess, she found herself able to do without interfering with
poor Mr Oriel's Sunday arrangements. The countess herself, with the
Ladies Alexandrina and Margaretta, now promised to come, even to this
first affair; and for the other, the whole de Courcy family would
turn out, count and countess, lords and ladies, Honourable Georges
and Honourable Johns. What honour, indeed, could be too great to show
to a bride who had fourteen thousand a year in her own right, or to a
cousin who had done his duty by securing such a bride to himself!

"If the duke be in the country, I am sure he will be happy to come,"
said the countess. "Of course, he will be talking to Frank about
politics. I suppose the squire won't expect Frank to belong to the
old school now."

"Frank, of course, will judge for himself, Rosina;--with his
position, you know!" And so things were settled at Courcy Castle.

And then Beatrice was wedded and carried off to the Lakes. Mary, as
she had promised, did stand near her; but not exactly in the gingham
frock of which she had once spoken. She wore on that occasion-- But
it will be too much, perhaps, to tell the reader what she wore as
Beatrice's bridesmaid, seeing that a couple of pages, at least, must
be devoted to her marriage-dress, and seeing, also, that we have only
a few pages to finish everything; the list of visitors, the marriage
settlements, the dress, and all included.

It was in vain that Mary endeavoured to repress Lady Arabella's
ardour for grand doings. After all, she was to be married from the
doctor's house, and not from Greshamsbury, and it was the doctor
who should have invited the guests; but, in this matter, he did not
choose to oppose her ladyship's spirit, and she had it all her own
way.

"What can I do?" said he to Mary. "I have been contradicting her in
everything for the last two years. The least we can do is to let her
have her own way now in a trifle like this."

But there was one point on which Mary would let nobody have his or
her own way; on which the way to be taken was very manifestly to be
her own. This was touching the marriage settlements. It must not be
supposed, that if Beatrice were married on a Tuesday, Mary could be
married on the Tuesday week following. Ladies with twelve thousand a
year cannot be disposed of in that way: and bridegrooms who do their
duty by marrying money often have to be kept waiting. It was spring,
the early spring, before Frank was made altogether a happy man.

But a word about the settlements. On this subject the doctor thought
he would have been driven mad. Messrs Slow & Bideawhile, as the
lawyers of the Greshamsbury family--it will be understood that Mr
Gazebee's law business was of quite a different nature, and his
work, as regarded Greshamsbury, was now nearly over--Messrs Slow &
Bideawhile declared that it would never do for them to undertake
alone to draw out the settlements. An heiress, such as Mary, must
have lawyers of her own; half a dozen at least, according to the
apparent opinion of Messrs Slow & Bideawhile. And so the doctor had
to go to other lawyers, and they had again to consult Sir Abraham,
and Mr Snilam on a dozen different heads.

If Frank became tenant in tail, in right of his wife, but under his
father, would he be able to grant leases for more than twenty-one
years? and, if so, to whom would the right of trover belong? As to
flotsam and jetsam--there was a little property, Mr Critic, on the
sea-shore--that was a matter that had to be left unsettled at the
last. Such points as these do take a long time to consider. All
this bewildered the doctor sadly, and Frank himself began to make
accusations that he was to be done out of his wife altogether.

But, as we have said, there was one point on which Mary would have
her own way. The lawyers might tie up as they would on her behalf all
the money, and shares, and mortgages which had belonged to the late
Sir Roger, with this exception, all that had ever appertained to
Greshamsbury should belong to Greshamsbury again; not in perspective,
not to her children, or to her children's children, but at once.
Frank should be lord of Boxall Hill in his own right; and as to those
other _liens_ on Greshamsbury, let Frank manage that with his father
as he might think fit. She would only trouble herself to see that he
was empowered to do as he did think fit.

"But," argued the ancient, respectable family attorney to the doctor,
"that amounts to two-thirds of the whole estate. Two-thirds, Dr
Thorne! It is preposterous; I should almost say impossible." And the
scanty hairs on the poor man's head almost stood on end as he thought
of the outrageous manner in which the heiress prepared to sacrifice
herself.

"It will all be the same in the end," said the doctor, trying to make
things smooth. "Of course, their joint object will be to put the
Greshamsbury property together again."

"But, my dear sir,"--and then, for twenty minutes, the lawyer
went on proving that it would by no means be the same thing; but,
nevertheless, Mary Thorne did have her own way.

In the course of the winter, Lady de Courcy tried very hard to induce
the heiress to visit Courcy Castle, and this request was so backed by
Lady Arabella, that the doctor said he thought she might as well go
there for three or four days. But here, again, Mary was obstinate.

"I don't see it at all," she said. "If you make a point of it,
or Frank, or Mr Gresham, I will go; but I can't see any possible
reason." The doctor, when so appealed to, would not absolutely say
that he made a point of it, and Mary was tolerably safe as regarded
Frank or the squire. If she went, Frank would be expected to go, and
Frank disliked Courcy Castle almost more than ever. His aunt was now
more than civil to him, and, when they were together, never ceased to
compliment him on the desirable way in which he had done his duty by
his family.

And soon after Christmas a visitor came to Mary, and stayed a
fortnight with her: one whom neither she nor the doctor had expected,
and of whom they had not much more than heard. This was the famous
Miss Dunstable. "Birds of a feather flock together," said Mrs
Rantaway--late Miss Gushing--when she heard of the visit. "The
railway man's niece--if you can call her a niece--and the quack's
daughter will do very well together, no doubt."

"At any rate, they can count their money-bags," said Mrs Umbleby.

And in fact, Mary and Miss Dunstable did get on very well together;
and Miss Dunstable made herself quite happy at Greshamsbury, although
some people--including Mrs Rantaway--contrived to spread a report,
that Dr Thorne, jealous of Mary's money, was going to marry her.

"I shall certainly come and see you turned off," said Miss Dunstable,
taking leave of her new friend. Miss Dunstable, it must be
acknowledged, was a little too fond of slang; but then, a lady with
her fortune, and of her age, may be fond of almost whatever she
pleases.

And so by degrees the winter wore away--very slowly to Frank, as he
declared often enough; and slowly, perhaps, to Mary also, though she
did not say so. The winter wore away, and the chill, bitter, windy,
early spring came round. The comic almanacs give us dreadful pictures
of January and February; but, in truth, the months which should be
made to look gloomy in England are March and April. Let no man boast
himself that he has got through the perils of winter till at least
the seventh of May.

It was early in April, however, that the great doings were to be done
at Greshamsbury. Not exactly on the first. It may be presumed, that
in spite of the practical, common-sense spirit of the age, very few
people do choose to have themselves united on that day. But some
day in the first week of that month was fixed for the ceremony, and
from the end of February all through March, Lady Arabella worked and
strove in a manner that entitled her to profound admiration.

It was at last settled that the breakfast should be held in the large
dining-room at Greshamsbury. There was a difficulty about it which
taxed Lady Arabella to the utmost, for, in making the proposition,
she could not but seem to be throwing some slight on the house in
which the heiress had lived. But when the affair was once opened to
Mary, it was astonishing how easy it became.

"Of course," said Mary, "all the rooms in our house would not hold
half the people you are talking about--if they must come."

Lady Arabella looked so beseechingly, nay, so piteously, that Mary
had not another word to say. It was evident that they must all come:
the de Courcys to the fifth generation; the Duke of Omnium himself,
and others in concatenation accordingly.

"But will your uncle be angry if we have the breakfast up here? He
has been so very handsome to Frank, that I wouldn't make him angry
for all the world."

"If you don't tell him anything about it, Lady Arabella, he'll think
that it is all done properly. He will never know, if he's not told,
that he ought to give the breakfast, and not you."

"Won't he, my dear?" And Lady Arabella looked her admiration for this
very talented suggestion. And so that matter was arranged. The doctor
never knew, till Mary told him some year or so afterwards, that he
had been remiss in any part of his duty.

And who was asked to the wedding? In the first place, we have said
that the Duke of Omnium was there. This was, in fact, the one
circumstance that made this wedding so superior to any other that
had ever taken place in that neighbourhood. The Duke of Omnium never
went anywhere; and yet he went to Mary's wedding! And Mary, when
the ceremony was over, absolutely found herself kissed by a duke.
"Dearest Mary!" exclaimed Lady Arabella, in her ecstasy of joy, when
she saw the honour that was done to her daughter-in-law.

"I hope we shall induce you to come to Gatherum Castle soon," said
the duke to Frank. "I shall be having a few friends there in the
autumn. Let me see; I declare, I have not seen you since you were
good enough to come to my collection. Ha! ha! ha! It wasn't bad fun,
was it?" Frank was not very cordial with his answer. He had not quite
reconciled himself to the difference of his position. When he was
treated as one of the "collection" at Gatherum Castle, he had not
married money.

It would be vain to enumerate all the de Courcys that were there.
There was the earl, looking very gracious, and talking to the
squire about the county. And there was Lord Porlock, looking very
ungracious, and not talking to anybody about anything. And there was
the countess, who for the last week past had done nothing but pat
Frank on the back whenever she could catch him. And there were the
Ladies Alexandrina, Margaretta, and Selina, smiling at everybody.
And the Honourable George, talking in whispers to Frank about his
widow--"Not such a catch as yours, you know; but something extremely
snug;--and have it all my own way, too, old fellow, or I shan't come
to the scratch." And the Honourable John prepared to toady Frank
about his string of hunters; and the Lady Amelia, by herself, not
quite contented with these democratic nuptials--"After all, she is so
absolutely nobody; absolutely, absolutely," she said confidentially
to Augusta, shaking her head. But before Lady Amelia had left
Greshamsbury, Augusta was quite at a loss to understand how there
could be need for so much conversation between her cousin and Mr
Mortimer Gazebee.

And there were many more de Courcys, whom to enumerate would be much
too long.

And the bishop of the diocese, and Mrs Proudie were there. A hint
had even been given, that his lordship would himself condescend to
perform the ceremony, if this should be wished; but that work had
already been anticipated by a very old friend of the Greshams.
Archdeacon Grantly, the rector of Plumstead Episcopi, had long since
undertaken this part of the business; and the knot was eventually
tied by the joint efforts of himself and Mr Oriel. Mrs Grantly came
with him, and so did Mrs Grantly's sister, the new dean's wife. The
dean himself was at the time unfortunately absent at Oxford.

And all the Bakers and the Jacksons were there. The last time they
had all met together under the squire's roof, was on the occasion of
Frank's coming of age. The present gala doings were carried on a very
different spirit. That had been a very poor affair, but this was
worthy of the best days of Greshamsbury.

Occasion also had been taken of this happy moment to make up, or
rather to get rid of the last shreds of the last feud that had so
long separated Dr Thorne from his own relatives. The Thornes of
Ullathorne had made many overtures in a covert way. But our doctor
had contrived to reject them. "They would not receive Mary as their
cousin," said he, "and I will go nowhere that she cannot go." But now
all this was altered. Mrs Gresham would certainly be received in any
house in the county. And thus, Mr Thorne of Ullathorne, an amiable,
popular old bachelor, came to the wedding; and so did his maiden
sister, Miss Monica Thorne, than whose no kinder heart glowed through
all Barsetshire.

"My dear," said she to Mary, kissing her, and offering her some
little tribute, "I am very glad to make your acquaintance; very. It
was not her fault," she added, speaking to herself. "And now that
she will be a Gresham, that need not be any longer be thought of."
Nevertheless, could Miss Thorne have spoken her inward thoughts out
loud, she would have declared, that Frank would have done better to
have borne his poverty than marry wealth without blood. But then,
there are but few so stanch as Miss Thorne; perhaps none in that
county--always excepting Lady Amelia.

And Miss Dunstable, also, was a bridesmaid. "Oh, no" said she, when
asked; "you should have them young and pretty." But she gave way when
she found that Mary did not flatter her by telling her that she was
either the one or the other. "The truth is," said Miss Dunstable, "I
have always been a little in love with your Frank, and so I shall do
it for his sake." There were but four: the other two were the Gresham
twins. Lady Arabella exerted herself greatly in framing hints to
induce Mary to ask some of the de Courcy ladies to do her so much
honour; but on this head Mary would please herself. "Rank," said she
to Beatrice, with a curl on her lip, "has its drawbacks--and must put
up with them."

And now I find that I have not one page--not half a page--for the
wedding-dress. But what matters? Will it not be all found written in
the columns of the _Morning Post_?

And thus Frank married money, and became a great man. Let us hope
that he will be a happy man. As the time of the story has been
brought down so near to the present era, it is not practicable for
the novelist to tell much of his future career. When I last heard
from Barsetshire, it seemed to be quite settled that he is to take
the place of one of the old members at the next election; and they
say, also, that there is no chance of any opposition. I have heard,
too, that there have been many very private consultations between him
and various gentlemen of the county, with reference to the hunt; and
the general feeling is said to be that the hounds should go to Boxall
Hill.

At Boxall Hill the young people established themselves on their
return from the Continent. And that reminds me that one word must be
said of Lady Scatcherd.

"You will always stay here with us," said Mary to her, caressing her
ladyship's rough hand, and looking kindly into that kind face.

But Lady Scatcherd would not consent to this. "I will come and see
you sometimes, and then I shall enjoy myself. Yes, I will come and
see you, and my own dear boy." The affair was ended by her taking Mrs
Opie Green's cottage, in order that she might be near the doctor; Mrs
Opie Green having married--somebody.

And of whom else must we say a word? Patience, also, of course, got
a husband--or will do so. Dear Patience! it would be a thousand
pities that so good a wife should be lost to the world. Whether Miss
Dunstable will ever be married, or Augusta Gresham, or Mr Moffat, or
any of the tribe of the de Courcys--except Lady Amelia--I cannot say.
They have all of them still their future before them. That Bridget
was married to Thomas--that I am able to assert; for I know that
Janet was much put out by their joint desertion.

Lady Arabella has not yet lost her admiration for Mary, and Mary,
in return, behaves admirably. Another event is expected, and her
ladyship is almost as anxious about that as she was about the
wedding. "A matter, you know, of such importance in the county!" she
whispered to Lady de Courcy.

Nothing can be more happy than the intercourse between the squire and
his son. What their exact arrangements are, we need not specially
inquire; but the demon of pecuniary embarrassment has lifted his
black wings from the demesne of Greshamsbury.

And now we have but one word left for the doctor. "If you don't
come and dine with me," said the squire to him, when they found
themselves both deserted, "mind I shall come and dine with you." And
on this principle they seem to act. Dr Thorne continues to extend
his practice, to the great disgust of Dr Fillgrave; and when Mary
suggested to him that he should retire, he almost boxed her ears. He
knows the way, however, to Boxall Hill as well as he ever did, and is
willing to acknowledge, that the tea there is almost as good as it
ever was at Greshamsbury.