or clever, or of imposing manners,—nor was
she of high birth. But neither was she ugly,
nor unbearably stupid. Her manners were, at any
rate, innocent; and as to her birth,—seeing
that, from the first, she was not supposed to have
had any,—no disappointment was felt.
Her father had been a coal-merchant. She was always
called Mrs George, and the effort made respecting
her by everybody in and about the family was to treat
her as though she were a figure of a woman, a large
well-dressed resemblance of a being, whom it was necessary
for certain purposes that the de Courcys should carry
in their train. Of the Honourable George we may
further observe, that, having been a spendthrift all
his life, he had now become strictly parsimonious.
Having reached the discreet age of forty, he had at
last learned that beggary was objectionable; and he,
therefore, devoted every energy of his mind to saving
shillings and pence wherever pence and shillings might
be saved. When first this turn came upon him
both his father and mother were delighted to observe
it; but, although it had hardly yet lasted over twelve
months, some evil results were beginning to appear.
Though possessed of an income, he would take no steps
towards possessing himself of a house. He hung
by the paternal mansion, either in town or country;
drank the paternal wines, rode the paternal horses,
and had even contrived to obtain his wife’s
dresses from the maternal milliner. In the completion
of which little last success, however, some slight
family dissent had showed itself.
The Honourable John, the third son, was also at Courcy.
He had as yet taken to himself no wife, and as he
had not hitherto made himself conspicuously useful
in any special walk of life his family were beginning
to regard him as a burden. Having no income of
his own to save, he had not copied his brother’s
virtue of parsimony; and, to tell the truth plainly,
had made himself so generally troublesome to his father,
that he had been on more than one occasion threatened
with expulsion from the family roof. But it is
not easy to expel a son. Human fledglings cannot
be driven out of the nest like young birds. An
Honourable John turned adrift into absolute poverty
will make himself heard of in the world,—if
in no other way, by his ugliness as he starves.
A thorough-going ne’er-do-well in the upper
classes has eminent advantages on his side in the battle
which he fights against respectability. He can’t
be sent to Australia against his will. He can’t
be sent to the poorhouse without the knowledge of
all the world. He can’t be kept out of tradesmen’s
shops; nor, without terrible scandal, can he be kept
away from the paternal properties. The earl had
threatened, and snarled, and shown his teeth; he was
an angry man, and a man who could look very angry;
with eyes which could almost become red, and a brow
that wrinkled itself in perpendicular wrinkles, sometimes
very terrible to behold. But he was an inconsistent
man, and the Honourable John had learned to measure
his father, and in an accurate balance.