The Dodd Family Abroad, Vol. I

"Just everything," replied I; "but as you cannot make the application, you must excuse me if I decline the task also."

"And so you mean to be a baroness?" said he, rudely.

I courtesied profoundly to him, and he flung out of the room with a bang that nearly brought the door down. In a moment after, mamma was in my arms, overcome with tenderness and emotion.

"I have carried the day, my dearest child," said she. "We are to accept the invitation, at all events, and we set out to-morrow."

I have no time for more, Kitty, for all our preparations for departure have yet to be made. What fate awaits me I know not, nor can I even fancy what may be the future of your ever attached and devoted friend,

Mary Anne Dodd.

LETTER XXXVI. MRS. DODD TO MRS. MARY GALLAGHER, DODSBOROUGH

SCHLOSS, WOLFENFELS

My dear Molly, – It is only since we came to the elegant place, the hard name of which I have written at the top of this letter, that my feelings have subsided into the calm seriousness adapted to epistolary correspondence. From the day that K. I. returned, my life has been like the parallax of a fever! The man was never possessed of any refined or exalted sentiments; but the woman, this Mrs. G. H. – I could n't write the name in full if you were to give me twenty pounds for it – made him far worse with self-conceit and vanity. If you knew the way my time is passed, "taking it out of him," Molly, showing him how ridiculous he is, and why everybody is laughing at him, you 'd pity me. As to gratitude, my dear, he hasn't a notion of it; and he feels no more thankful to me for what I 've gone through than if I was indulging him in all his nefarious propensities. It is a weary task; and the only wonder is how I 'm able to go on with it.

"Have n't you done yet, Mrs. D.?" said he, the other morning. "Don't you think that you might grant me a little peace now?"

"I wish to the saints I had," said I; "it's bringing me to the grave, it is; but I have a duty to perform, and as long as my tongue can wag, I 'll do it! When I 'm gone, K. I.," said I, – "when I 'm gone, you 'll not have to say, 'It was her fault, – it was all her doing. Jemima never said this; she never told me that.'" I vow and declare to you here, Molly, that there is n't a thing a woman could say to a man, that I haven't said to him; and as I remarked yesterday, "If I have n't taken the self-conceit out of you now, it is because it's grained in your nature," – I believe, indeed, I said, "in your filthy nature."

When we left Baden, we came to a place called Rastadt, a great fortification that they 're making, as they tell me, to defend the Rhine; but, between ourselves, it's as far from the river as our house at Dodsborough is from Kelly's mills. There we stopped three weeks, – I believe in the confident hope of K. I. that I could n't survive the uproarious tumult. They were drilling or training horses, or firing guns, or flogging recruits under our windows, from sunrise to sunset; and although at first the novelty was, amusing, you grew, at last, so tormented and teased with the noise that your very brain ached from it.

"I wonder," said I, one night, "that you never thought of taking furnished apartments in Barrack Street! It ought to be to your taste."

"It's not unlikely, ma'am, that I may end my days in that neighborhood," said he, tartly, "for I believe it's very convenient to the sheriff's prison."

"I was alluding to your military tastes," said I. "One might suppose you were meant for a great general."

"I might have claim to the character, ma'am," said he, "if being always under fire signified anything, – always exposed to attack."

"Oh, but," said I, "you forget she has retired her forces," – I meant Mrs. G., Molly; "she took pity on your poor unprotected situation!"

"Look now, Mrs. D.," said he, with a blow of his fist on the table, "if there 's another word – one syllable more on this matter, may I never sign my name K. I. again, if I don't walk you back, every one of you, to Dodsborough! It was an evil hour that saw us leave it, but it would be a joyous one that brings us back again."

When, he grows so brutal as that, Molly, I never utter a word. 'T is n't to-day nor yesterday that I learned to be a martyr; so that all I did was to wait a minute or two, and then go off in strong hysterics! and, indeed, I don't know anything that provokes him more.

I give you this as a slight sample of the way we lived, with occasional diversions on the subject of expense, the extravagance of James, his idleness, and so forth; pleasant topics, and amusing for a family circle. Indeed, Molly, I'm ashamed to own that my natural spirit was beginning to break down under it. I felt that all the blood of the M'Carthys was weak to resist such inhuman cruelty; and whether it was the climate, or what, I don't know, but crying did n't give me the same relief it used. I suppose the fact is that one exhausts the natural resources of one's constitution; but I think I 'm not so old but that a good hearty cry ought to be a comfort to me.

This is how affairs was, when, about a week ago, came a servant on horseback, with a letter for K. I. I was sitting up at my window, with the blinds down, when I saw the man get off and enter the inn, and the first thought that struck me was that it was Mrs. G. herself sent him. "I 've caught you," says I to myself; and throwing on my dressing-gown, I slipped downstairs. It was K. I. and James were together talking, so I just waited a second at the door to listen. "If I had a voice in the family," – it was K. I. said this, – "if I had a voice in the family," said he, "I 'd refuse. These kind of things always turn out ill, – people calculate so much upon affection; but the truth is, marrying for love is like buying a pair of Russia-duck trousers to wear through the year. They 'll do beautifully in summer, and even an odd day in the autumn; but in the cold and rainy reason they 'll be downright ridiculous."

"Still," said James, "the offer sounds like a great one."

"All glitter, maybe. I distrust them all, James. At any rate, say nothing about it to your mother till I think it over a bit."

"And why not say anything to his mother?" says I, bouncing into the room. "Am I nobody in the family?"

"Bedad you are!" said K. I., with a heavy sigh.

"Haven't I an opinion of my own, eh?"

"That you have!" said he.

"And don't I stand to it, too! – eh, Kenny James?"

"Your worst enemy couldn't deny it!" said he, shaking his head.

"Then what's all this about?" said I, snatching the letter out of his hands. But though I tried with my double eyeglass, Molly, it was no use, for the writing was in a German hand, not to say anything of the language.

"Well, ma'am," said K. I., with a grin, "I hope the contents are pleasing to you?" And before I could fly out at him, James broke in: "It's a proposal for Mary Anne, mother. The young Baron that we met at Bonn makes her an offer of his hand and fortune, and invites us all to his castle in the Black Forest as a preliminary step."

"Isn't that to your taste, Mrs. D.?" said K. I., with another grin. "High connection – nobility – great family, – eh?"

"I don't think," said I, "that, considering the step I took myself in life, anybody can reproach me with prejudices of that kind." The step I took! Molly, I said the words with a sneer that made him purple.

"What's his fortune, James?" said I.

"Heaven knows! but he must have a stunning income. This Castle of Wolfenfels is in all the print-shops of the town. It's a thing as large as Windsor, and surrounded by miles of forest."

"My poor child," said I, "I always knew where you 'd be at last; and it's only two nights ago I had a dream of taking grease out of my yellow satin. I thought I was rubbing and scrubbing at it with all my might."

"And what did that portend, ma'am?" said K. I., with his usual sneer.

"Can't you guess?" said I. "Might n't it mean an effort to get rid of the stain of a low connection?" Was n't that a home-thrust, Molly? Faith, he felt it so!

"Mrs. D.," said he, gravely, and as if after profound thought, "this is a question of our child's happiness for life-long, and if we are to discuss it at all, let it be without any admixture of attack or recrimination."

"Who began it?" said I.

"You did, my dear," said he.

"I did n't," said I; "and I 'm not 'your dear.' Oh, you needn't sigh that way; your case isn't half so bad as you think it, but, like all men, you fancy yourself cruelly treated whenever the slightest bar is placed to your bad passions. You argue as if wickedness was good for your constitution."

"Have you done?" said he.

"Not yet," said I, taking a chair in front of him.

"When you have, then," said he, "call me, for I 'll go out and sit on the stairs." But I put my back to the door, Molly, so that he had nothing for it but to resume his seat. "Let us move the order of the day, Mrs. D.," said he, – "this business of Mary Anne. My opinion of it is told in few words. These mixed marriages seldom succeed. Even with long previous intimacy, suitable fortune, and equality of station, there is that in a difference of nationality that opens a hundred discrepancies in taste, feeling – "

"Bother!" said I, "we have just as much when we come from the same stock."

"Sometimes," said he, sighing.

"Here's what he says, mother," said James, and read out the letter, which I am bound to say, Molly, was a curiosity in its way; for though it had such a strange look, it turned out to be in English, or at least what the Baron thought was such. Happily there was no mistaking the meaning; and as I said to K. I., "At least there 's one thing in the Baron's favor, – there's neither deceit nor subterfuge about him. He makes his proposal like a man!" And let me tell you, Molly, we live in an age when even that same is a virtue; for really, with the liberties that's allowed, and the way girls goes on, there 's no saying what intentions men have at all!

Some mothers make a point of never seeing anything; but that may be carried too far, particularly abroad, my dear. Others are for always being dragons, but that is sure to scare off the men; and as I say, what's the use of birdlime if you 're always shouting and screaming!

My notion is, Molly, that a moderate degree of what the French call "surveillance" is the right thing, – a manner that seems to say, "I 'm looking at you: I'm not against innocent enjoyments, and so forth, but I won't stand any nonsense, nor falling in love." Many 's the time the right man is scared away by a new flirtation, that meant nothing. "She's too gay for me– she has a look in her eye, or a toss of the head, or a – Heaven knows – I don't like."