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MARION FAY
never deserted her father. Nor did he like to give any hint to his
friend that he was desirous of further immediate intimacy with
Marion. There would be an absurdity in doing so which he did
not dare to perpetrate. Only if he could have passed the morning in Paradise Row, and then have walked home with Roden in
the dark evening, he could, he thought, have said what he had to
say very conveniently.
But it was impossible. He sat silent for some minute or two
after Roden had asked the name of the bore of the hunting
field, and then answered him by proposing that they should
start together on their walk towards Hendon. “I am all ready;
but you must tell me the name of this dreadful man.”
“As soon as we have started I will. I have come here on purpose to tell you.”
“To tell me the name of the man you ran away from in
Cumberland?”
“Exactly that; — come along.” And so they started, more
than an hour before the time at which Marion Fay would return from church. “The man who annoyed me so out hunting
was an intimate friend of yours.”
“I have not an intimate friend in the world except yourself.”
“Not Marion Fay?”
“I meant among men. I do not suppose that Marion Fay was
out hunting in Cumberland.”
“I should not have ran away from her, I think, if she had. It
was Mr. Crocker, of the General Post Office.”
“Crocker in Cumberland?”
“Certainly he was in Cumberland, — unless some one personated him. I met him dining at Castle Hautboy, when he was
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ANTHONY TROLLOPE
kind enough to make himself known to me, and again out hunting, — when he did more than make himself known to me.”
“I am surprised.”
“Is he not away on leave?”
“Oh, yes; — he is away on leave. I do not doubt that it
was he.”
“Why should he not be in Cumberland, — when, as it happens, his father is land-steward or something of that sort to my
uncle Persiflage?”
“Because I did not know that he had any connection with
Cumberland. Why not Cumberland, or Westmoreland, or Northumberland, you may say? Why not? — or Yorkshire, or Lincolnshire, or Norfolk? I certainly did not suppose that a Post
Office clerk out on his holidays would be found hunting in
any county.”
“You have never heard of his flea-bitten horse?”
“Not a word. I didn’t know that he had ever sat upon
a horse. And now will you let me know why you have called
him my friend?”
“Is he not so?”
“By no means.”
“Does he not sit at the same desk with you?”
“Certainly he does.”
“I think I should be friends with a man if I sat at the same
desk with him.”
“With Crocker even?” asked Roden.
“Well; he might be an exception.”
“But if an exception to you, why not also an exception to
me? As it happens, Crocker has made himself disagreeable to
me. Instead of being my friend, he is, — I will not say my ene-
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MARION FAY
my, because I should be making too much of him; but nearer to
being so than any one I know. Now, what is the meaning of
all this? Why did he trouble you especially down in Cumberland? Why do you call him my friend? And why do you wish to
speak to me about him?”
“He introduced himself to me, and told me that he was
your special friend.”
“Then he lied.”
“I should not have cared about that; — but he did more.”
“What more did he do?”
“I would have been courteous to him, — if only because he
sat at the same desk with you; — but —”
“But what?”
“There are things which are difficult to be told.”
“If they have to be told, they had better be told,” said Roden,
almost angrily.
“Whether friend or not, he knew of — your engagement
with my sister.”
“Impossible!”
“He told me of it,” said Lord Hampstead impetuously, his
tongue now at length loosed. “Told me of it! He spoke of it
again and again to my extreme disgust. Though the thing had
been fixed as Fate, he should not have mentioned it.”
“Certainly not.”
“But he did nothing but tell me of your happiness, and
good luck, and the rest of it. It was impossible to stop him, so
that I had to ride away from him. I bade him be silent, — as
plainly as I could without mentioning Fanny’s name. But it
was of no use.”
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ANTHONY TROLLOPE
“How did he know it?”
“You told him!”
“I!”
“So he said.” This was not strictly the case. Crocker had
so introduced the subject as to have avoided the palpable
lie of declaring that the tidings had been absolutely given by
Roden to himself. But he had not the less falsely intended to
convey that impression to Hampstead, and had conveyed it.
“He gave me to understand that you were speaking about it
continually at your office.” Roden turned round and looked
at the other man, white with rage — as though he could not
allow himself to utter a word. “It was as I tell you. He began it
at the Castle, and afterwards continued it whenever he could
get near me when hunting.”
“And you believed him?”
“When he repeated his story so often what was I to do?”
“Knock him off his horse.”
“And so be forced to speak of my sister to every one in
the hunt and in the county? You do not feel how much is
due to a girl’s name.”
“I think I do. I think that of all men I am the most likely to feel what is due to the name of Lady Frances Trafford.
Of course I never mentioned it to any one at the Post Office.”
“From whom had he heard it?”
“How can I answer that? Probably through some of your
own family. It has made its way through Lady Kingsbury to
Castle Hautboy, and has then been talked about. I am not responsible for that.”
“Not for that certainly, — if it be so.”
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MARION FAY
“Nor because such a one as he has lied. You should not
have believed it of me.”
“I was bound to ask you.”
“You were bound to tell me, but should not have asked me.
There are things which do not require asking. What must I do
with him?”
“Nothing. Nothing can be done. You could not touch
the subject without alluding to my sister. She is coming back to
Hendon in another week.”
“She was there before, but I did not see her.”
“Of course you did not see her. How should you?”
“Simply by going there.”
“She would not have seen you.” There came a black frown
over Roden’s brow as he heard this. “It has been understood
between my father and Fanny and myself that you should not
come to Hendon while she is living with me.”
“Should not I have been a party to that agreement?”
“Hardly, I think. This agreement must have been made
whether you assented or not. On no other terms would my father have permitted her to come. It was most desirable that she
should be separated from Lady Kingsbury.”
“Oh, yes.”
“And therefore the agreement was advisable. I would not
have had her on any other terms.”
“Why not?”
“Because I think that such visitings would have been unwise. It is no use my blinking it to you. I do not believe that
the marriage is practicable.”
“I do.”
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ANTHONY TROLLOPE
“As I don’t, of course I cannot be a party to throwing you
together. Were you to persist in coming you would only force
me to find a home for her elsewhere.”
“I have not disturbed you.”
“You have not. Now I want you to promise me that you will
not. I have assured my father that it shall be so. Will you say
that you will neither come to her at Hendon Hall, or write to her,
while she is staying with me?” He paused on the road for an answer, but Roden walked on without making one, and Hampstead
was forced to accompany him. “Will you promise me?”
“I will not promise. I will do nothing which may possibly
subject me to be called a liar. I have no wish to knock at any
door at which I do not think myself to be welcome.”
“You know how welcome you would be at mine, but for her.”
“It might be that I should find myself forced to endeavour to see her, and I will therefore make no promise. A man
should fetter himself by no assurances of that kind as to his
conduct. If a man be a drunkard, it may be well that he should
bind himself by a vow against drinking. But he who can rule
his own conduct should promise nothing. Good-day now.
I must be back to dinner with my mother.”
Then he took his leave somewhat abruptly, and returned.
Hampstead went on to Hendon with his thoughts sometimes
fixed on his sister, sometimes on Roden, whom he regarded as
impracticable, sometimes on that horrid Crocker; — but more
generally on Marion Fay, whom he resolved that he must see
again, whatever might be the difficulties in his way.
CHAPTER XVII
LORD HAMPSTEAD’S SCHEME
During the following week Hampstead went down to
Gorse Hall, and hunted two or three days with various packs of
hounds within his reach, declaring to himself that, after all,
Leicestershire was better than Cumberland, because he was
known there, and no one would dare to treat him as Crocker had done. Never before had his democratic spirit received
such a shock, — or rather the remnant of that aristocratic spirit which he had striven to quell by the wisdom and humanity of democracy! That a stranger should have dared to talk to
him about one of the ladies of his family! No man certainly
would do so in Northamptonshire or Leicestershire. He could
not quite explain to himself the difference in the localities, but
he was quite sure that he was safe from anything of that kind
at Gorse Hall.
But he had other matters to think of as he galloped about
the country. How might he best manage to see Marion Fay?
His mind was set upon that; — or, perhaps, more dangerously still, his heart. Had he been asked before he would have
said that there could have been nothing more easy than for
such a one as he to make acquaintance with a young lady in
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ANTHONY TROLLOPE
Paradise Row. But now, when he came to look at it, he found
that Marion Fay was environed with fortifications and a che-
vaux-de-frise of difficulties which were apparently impregnable. He could not call at No. 17, and simply ask for Miss Fay.
To do so he must be a proficient in that impudence, the lack of
which created so many difficulties for him. He thought of finding out the Quaker chapel in the City, and there sitting out
the whole proceeding, — unless desired to leave the place, —
with the Quixotic idea of returning to Holloway with her in
an omnibus. As he looked at this project all round, he became
sure that the joint journey in an omnibus would never be
achieved. Then he imagined that Mrs. Roden might perhaps
give him aid. But with what a face could such a one as he ask
such a one as Mrs. Roden to assist him in such an enterprise?
And yet, if anything were to be done, it must be done through
Mrs. Roden, — or, at any rate, through Mrs. Roden’s house.
As to this too there was a new difficulty. He had not actually quarrelled with George Roden, but the two had parted on
the road as though there were some hitch in the cordiality of
their friendship. He had been rebuked for having believed
what Crocker had told him. He did acknowledge to himself
that he should not have believed it. Though Crocker’s lies
had been monstrous, he should rather have supposed him to
be guilty even of lies so monstrous, than have suspected his
friend of conduct that would certainly have been base. Even
this added something to the difficulties by which Marion Fay
was surrounded.
Vivian was staying with him at Gorse Hall. “I shall go up
to London to-morrow,” he said, as the two of them were rid-
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MARION FAY
ing home after hunting on the Saturday, — the Saturday after
the Sunday on which Hampstead had been in Paradise Row.
“To-morrow is Sunday, — no day for travelling,” said Vivian. “The Fitzwilliams are at Lilford Cross Roads on Monday, — draw back towards the kennels; — afternoon train up
from Peterborough at 5.30; — branch from Oundle to meet it,
4.50 — have your traps sent there. It’s all arranged by Providence. On Monday evening I go to Gatcombe, — so that it
will all fit.”
“You need not be disturbed. A solitary Sunday will enable
you to write all your official correspondence for the fortnight.”
“That I should have done, even in your presence.”
“I must be at home on Monday morning. Give my love to
them all at Lilford Cross Roads. I shall be down again before
long if my sister can spare me; — or perhaps I may induce
her to come and rough it here for a week or two.” He was as
good as his word, and travelled up to London, and thence
across to Hendon Hall, on the Sunday.
It might have been said that no young man could have had
stronger inducements for clinging to his sport, or fewer reasons
for abandoning it. His stables were full of horses; the weather
was good; the hunting had been excellent; his friends were
all around him; and he had nothing else to do. His sister intended to remain for yet another week at Castle Hautboy, and
Hendon Hall of itself had certainly no special attractions at
the end of November. But Marion Fay was on his mind, and he
had arranged his scheme. His scheme, as far as he knew, would
be as practicable on a Tuesday as on a Monday; but he was
impatient, and for the nonce preferred Marion Fay, whom he
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ANTHONY TROLLOPE
probably would not find, to the foxes which would certainly
be found in the neighbourhood of Lilford Cross Roads.
It was not much of a scheme after all. He would go over to
Paradise Row, and call on Mrs. Roden. He would then explain to her what had taken place between him and George,
and leave some sort of apology for the offended Post Office
clerk. Then he would ask them both to come over and dine
with him on some day before his sister’s return. In what way
Marion Fay’s name might be introduced, or how she might be
brought into the arrangement, he must leave to the chapter of
accidents. On the Monday he left home at about two o’clock,
and making a roundabout journey viâ Baker Street, King’s
Cross, and Islington, went down to Holloway by an omnibus.
He had become somewhat abashed and perplexed as to his
visits to Paradise Row, having learned to entertain a notion
that some of the people there looked at him. It was hard, he
thought, that if he had a friend in that or any other street
he should not be allowed to visit his friend without creating
attention. He was not aware of the special existence of Mrs.
Demijohn, or of Clara, or of Mrs. Duffer, nor did he know
from what window exactly the eyes of curious inhabitants
were fixed upon him. But he was conscious that an interest
was taken in his comings and goings. As long as his acquaintance in the street was confined to the inhabitants of No. 11,
this did not very much signify. Though the neighbours should
become aware that he was intimate with Mrs. Roden or her
son, he need not care much about that. But if he should succeed in adding Marion Fay to the number of his Holloway
friends, then he thought inquisitive eyes might be an annoy-
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