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AYALA’S ANGEL
“That amounts to nothing. The governor would have given way, of course, and if he hadn’t that was no matter of his.
After he had had my promise he was bound to go on with it.
Don’t you think so?”
“Perhaps he was,” said Tom, dubiously.
“Of course he was. What else is the meaning of a promise?
Now I’ll tell you what you must do. You must go up to London
and find him out. You had better take a stick with you, and
then ask him what he means to do.”
“And if he says he’ll do nothing?”
“Then, Tom, you should call him out. It is just the position in which a brother is bound to do that kind of thing for
his sister. When he has been called out, then probably he’ll
come round, and all will be well.”
The prospect was one which Tom did not at all like. He had
had one duel on his hands on his own account, and had not as
yet come through it with flying colours. There were still moments in which he felt that he would be compelled at last to
take to violence in reference to Colonel Stubbs. He was all but
convinced that were he to do so he would fall into some great
trouble, but still it was more than probable that his outraged
feelings would not allow him to resist. But this second quarrel
was certainly unnecessary. “That’s all nonsense, Gertrude,” he
said, “I can do nothing of the kind.”
“You will not?”
“Certainly not. It would be absurd. You ask Septimus and
he will tell you that it is so.”
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ANTHONY TROLLOPE
“Septimus, indeed!”
“At any rate, I won’t. Men don’t call each other out nowa-days. I know what ought to be done in these kind of things,
and such interference as that would be altogether improper.”
“Then, Tom,” said she, raising herself in bed, and looking
round upon him, “I will never call you my brother again!”
CHAPTER XLIII
ONCE MORE!
“Probably you are not aware, Sir, that I am not at present the young lady’s guardian.” This was said at the office in
Lombard Street by Sir Thomas, in answer to an offer made to
him by Captain Batsby for Ayala’s hand. Captain Batsby had
made his way boldly into the great man’s inner room, and
had there declared his purpose in a short and business-like
manner. He had an ample income of his own, he said, and
was prepared to make a proper settlement on the young lady.
If necessary, he would take her without any fortune; — but it
would, of course, be for the lady’s comfort and for his own if
something in the way of money were forthcoming. So much
he added, having heard of this uncle’s enormous wealth, and
having also learned the fact that if Sir Thomas were not at
this moment Ayala’s guardian he had been not long ago. Sir
Thomas listened to him with patience, and then replied to
him as above.
“Just so, Sir Thomas. I did hear that. But I think you were
once; and you are still her uncle.”
“Yes; I am her uncle.”
“And when I was so ill-treated in Kingsbury Crescent
I thought I would come to you. It could not be right that a gen-
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ANTHONY TROLLOPE
tleman making an honourable proposition, — and very liberal, as you must acknowledge, — should not be allowed to see
the young lady. It was not as though I did not know her. I had
been ten days in the same house with her. Don’t you think, Sir
Thomas, I ought to have been allowed to see her?”
“I have nothing to do with her,” said Sir Thomas; — “that
is, in the way of authority.” Nevertheless, before Captain Batsby
left him, he became courteous to that gentleman, and though
he could not offer any direct assurance he acknowledged that
the application was reasonable. He was, in truth, becoming
tired of Ayala, and would have been glad to find a husband
whom she would accept, so that she might be out of Tom’s way.
He had been quite willing that Tom should marry the girl if it
were possible, but he began to be convinced that it was impossible. He had offered again to open his house to her, with all
its wealth, but she had refused to come into it. His wife had
told him that, if Ayala could be brought back in place of Lucy,
she would surely yield. But Ayala would not allow herself to
be brought back. And there was Tom as bad as ever. If Ayala
were once married then Tom could go upon his travels, and
come back, no doubt, a sane man. Sir Thomas thought it might
be well to make inquiry about this Captain, and then see if
a marriage might be arranged. Mrs. Dosett, he told himself,
was a hard, stiff woman, and would never get the girl married
unless she allowed such a suitor as this Captain Batsby to have
access to the house. He did make inquiry, and before the week
was over had determined that if Ayala would become Mrs.
Batsby there might probably be an end to one of his troubles.
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AYALA’S ANGEL
As he went down to Merle Park he arranged his plan.
He would, in the first place, tell Tom that Ayala had as many
suitors as Penelope, and that one had come up now who would
probably succeed. But when he reached home he found that
his son was gone. Tom had taken a sudden freak, and had
run up to London. “He seemed quite to have got a change,”
said Lady Tringle.
“I hope it was a change for the better as to that stupid girl.”
Lady Tringle could not say that there had been any change
for the better, but she thought that there had been a change
about the girl. Tom had, as she said, quite “brisked up,” had
declared that he was not going to stand this thing any longer,
had packed up three or four portmanteaus, and had had himself carried off to the nearest railway station in time for an afternoon train up to London. “What is he going to do when he
gets there?” asked Sir Thomas. Lady Tringle had no idea what
her son intended to do, but thought that something special
was intended in regard to Ayala.
“He is an ass,” said the father.
“You always say he is an ass,” said the mother, complaining.
“No doubt I do. What else am I to call him?” Then he
went on and developed his scheme. “Let Ayala be asked to
Merle Park for a week, — just for a week, — and assured that
during that time Tom would not be there. Then let Captain
Batsby also be invited.” Upon this there followed an explanation as to Captain Batsby and his aspirations. Tom must be
relieved after some fashion, and Sir Thomas declared that no
better fashion seemed to present itself. Lady Tringle received
her orders with sundry murmurings, still grieving for her
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ANTHONY TROLLOPE
son’s grief; — but she assented, as she always did assent, to her
husband’s propositions.
Now we will accompany Tom up to London. The patient
reader will perhaps have understood the condition of his
mind when in those days of his sharpest agony he had given
himself up to Faddle and champagne. By these means he had
brought himself into trouble and disgrace, of which he was
fully conscious. He had fallen into the hands of the police and
had been harassed during the whole period by headache and
nausea. Then had come the absurdity of his challenge to Colonel Stubbs, the folly of which had been made plain to him by
the very letter which his rival had written to him. There was
good sense enough about the poor fellow to enable him to understand that the police court, and the prison, that Faddle and
the orgies at Bolivia’s, that his challenge and the reply to it,
were alike dishonourable to him. Then had come a reaction,
and he spent a miserable fortnight down at Merle Park, doing
nothing, resolving on nothing, merely moping about and pouring the oft-repeated tale of his woes into his mother’s bosom.
These days at Merle Park gave him back at any rate his health,
and rescued him from the intense wretchedness of his condition on the day after the comparison of Bolivia’s wines. In this
improved state he told himself that it behoved him even yet to
do something as a man, and he came suddenly to the bold
resolution of having, — as he called it to himself, — another
“dash at Ayala.”
How the “dash” was to be made he had not determined
when he left home. But to this he devoted the whole of the following Sunday. He had received a lachrymose letter from his
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AYALA’S ANGEL
friend Faddle, at Aberdeen, in which the unfortunate youth
had told him that he was destined to remain in that wretched northern city for the rest of his natural life. He had not as
yet been to the Mountaineers since his mishap with the police, and did not care to show himself there at present. He was
therefore altogether alone, and, walking all alone the entire
round of the parks, he at last formed his resolution.
On the following morning when Mr. Dosett entered his
room at Somerset House, a little after half-past ten o’clock, he
found his nephew Tom there before him, and waiting for him.
Mr. Dosett was somewhat astonished, for he too had heard of
Tom’s misfortunes. Some ill-natured chronicle of Tom’s latter
doings had spread itself among the Tringle and Dosett sets, and
Uncle Reginald was aware that his nephew had been forced to
relinquish his stool in Lombard Street. The vices of the young
are perhaps too often exaggerated, so that Mr. Dosett had
heard of an amount of champagne consumed and a number of
policemen wounded, of which his nephew had not been altogether guilty. There was an idea at Kingsbury Crescent that
Tom had gone nearly mad, and was now kept under paternal
care at Merle Park. When, therefore, he saw Tom blooming in
health, and brighter than usual in general appearance, he was
no doubt rejoiced, but also surprised, at the change. “What,
Tom!” he said; “I’m glad to see you looking so well. Are you up
in London again?”
“I’m in town for a day or two,” said Tom.
“And what can I do for you?”
“Well, Uncle Reginald, you can do a great deal for me if
you will. Of course you’ve heard of all those rows of mine?”
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ANTHONY TROLLOPE
“I have heard something.”
“Everybody has heard,” said Tom, mournfully. “I don’t suppose anybody was ever knocked so much about as I’ve been for
the last six months.”
“I’m sorry for that, Tom.”
“I’m sure you are, because you’re always good-natured.
Now I wonder if you will do a great thing to oblige me.”
“Let us hear what it is,” said Uncle Reginald.
“I suppose you know that there is only one thing in
the world that I want.” Mr. Dosett thought that it would be
discreet to make no reply to this, but, turning his chair partly
round, he prepared to listen very attentively to what his nephew might have to say to him. “All this about the policeman
and the rest of it has simply come from my being so unhappy
about Ayala.”
“It wouldn’t be taken as a promise of your being a good
husband, Tom, when you get into such a mess as that.”
“That’s because people don’t understand,” said Tom. “It is
because I am so earnest about it, and because I can’t bear
the disappointment! There isn’t one at Travers and Treason
who doesn’t know that if I’d married Ayala I should have
settled down as quiet a young man as there is in all London. You ask the governor else himself. As long as I thought
there was any hope I used to be there steady as a rock at
half-past nine. Everybody knew it. So I should again, if she’d
only come round.”
“You can’t make a lady come round, as you call it.”
“Not make her; no. Of course you can’t make a girl. But
persuading goes a long way. Why shouldn’t she have me? As to
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AYALA’S ANGEL
all these rows, she ought to feel at any rate that they’re her doing. And what she’s done it stands to reason she could undo if
she would. It only wants a word from her to put me all right
with the governor, — and to put me all right with Travers and
Treason too. Nobody can love her as I do.”
“I do believe that nobody could love her better,” said Mr.
Dosett, who was beginning to be melted by his nephew’s earnestness.
“Oughtn’t that to go for something? And then she would
have everything that she wishes. She might live anywhere she
pleased, — so that I might go to the office every day. She would
have her own carriage, you know.”
“I don’t think that would matter much with Ayala.”
“It shows that I’m in a position to ask her,” said Tom. “If she
could only bring herself not to hate me — “
“There is a difference, Tom, between hating and not
loving.”
“If she would only begin to make a little way, then I could
hope again. Uncle Reginald, could you not tell her that at any
rate I would be good to her?”
“I think you would be good to her,” he said.
“Indeed, I would. There is nothing I would not do for her.
Now will you let me see her just once again, and have one other chance?”
This was the great thing which Tom desired from his uncle,
and Mr. Dosett was so much softened by his nephew’s earnestness that he did promise to do as much as this; — to do as much
as this, at least, if it were in his power. Of course, Ayala must
be told. No good could be done by surprising her by a visit.
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ANTHONY TROLLOPE
But he would endeavour so to arrange it that, if Tom were to
come to him on the following afternoon, they two should go to
the Crescent together, and then Tom should remain and dine
there, — or go away before dinner, as he might please, after
the interview. This was settled, and Tom left Somerset House,
rejoicing greatly at his success. It seemed to him that now at
last a way was open to him.
Uncle Reginald, on his return home, took his niece aside
and talked to her very gently and very kindly. “Whether you
like him or whether you do not, my dear, he is so true to you
that you are bound to see him again when he asks it.” At first
she was very stout, declaring that she would not see him.
Of what good could it be, seeing that she would rather throw
herself into the Thames than marry him? Had she not told
him so over and over again, as often as he had spoken to her?
Why would he not just leave her alone? But against all this her
uncle pleaded gently but persistently. He had considered himself bound to promise so much on her behalf, and for his sake
she must do as he asked. To this, of course, she yielded. And
then he said many good things of poor Tom. His constancy was
a great virtue. A man so thoroughly in love would no doubt
make a good husband. And then there would be the assent of
all the family, and an end, as far as Ayala was concerned, of all
pecuniary trouble. In answer to this she only shook her head,
promising, however, that she would be ready to give Tom
an audience when he should be brought to the Crescent on
the following day.
Punctually at four Tom made his appearance at Somerset
House, and started with his uncle as soon as the index-books
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