The Bertrams

"Then I would say this – that if I loved a man, I could love him quite as fondly as she loved you."

"Could you, Annie?"

"I could. But he should not drive me from him, as you say you did her; never – never – never. He might kill me if he would; but if I once had told him that I loved him, I would never leave him afterwards."

"Tell me so, Annie."

"No, Mr. Bertram. We have not known each other long enough." And now she took her hand from his arm, and let it drop by her side.

"Tell me so, dear Annie," he repeated; and he tried to regain her hand.

"There is the luncheon-bell; and since Mr. Wilkinson won't go to Mrs. Price, I must do so."

"Shall I go?" said he.

"Do; I will go down by myself."

"But you love me, Annie? – say that you love me."

"Nonsense. Here is that fellow, Biffin. Do you go for Mrs. Price – leave me to myself."

"Don't go down stairs with him."

"You may be sure I won't – nor with you either this morning. I am half inclined to be angry with you." And so saying, she moved away.

"Ah, me! what have I done!" said Bertram to himself, as he went upon his mission. "But she is a sweet creature; as beautiful as Hebe; and why should I be wretched for ever?"

She had moved towards the companion-ladder, and as she did so, Major Biffin followed her.

"Will you not allow me to give you an arm down stairs?" said he.

"Thank you, Major Biffin. It is rather crowded, and I can go better alone."

"You did not find the stairs in the 'Lahore' too crowded."

"Oh, yes, I did; very often. And the 'Lahore' and the 'Cagliari' are different things."

"Very different it seems. But the sea itself is not so fickle as a woman." And Major Biffin became a picture of injured innocence.

"And the land is not so dry as a man, Major Biffin; that is, some men. Ha! ha! ha! Good-morning, Major Biffin." And so saying, she went down by herself.

On the next day, Arthur still preferred his book to walking with Mrs. Price; and that lady was once again seen with her arm in that of Captain M'Gramm's. This made a considerable consternation in the ship; and in the afternoon there was a slight quarrel between the two ladies.

"And so, Minnie, you are going to take up with that fellow again?"

"No; I am not. But I don't choose to be left altogether to myself."

"I never would have anything to say to a married man that drops his wife as he does."

"I don't care two straws for him, or his wife. But I don't want to make myself conspicuous by a quarrel."

"I'm sure Wilkinson will be annoyed," said Mrs. Cox.

"He's a muff," said Mrs. Price. "And, if I am not mistaken, I know some one else who is another."

"Who do you mean, Mrs. Price?"

"I mean Mr. Bertram, Mrs. Cox."

"Oh, I dare say he is a muff; that's because he's attentive to me instead of leaving me to myself, as somebody does to somebody else. I understand all about that, my dear."

"You understand a great deal, I have no doubt," said Mrs. Price. "I always heard as much."

"It seems to me you understand nothing, or you wouldn't be walking about with Captain M'Gramm," said Mrs. Cox. And then they parted, before blood was absolutely drawn between them.

At dinner that day they were not very comfortable together. Mrs. Price accepted Mr. Wilkinson's ordinary courtesies in a stately way, thanking him for filling her glass and looking after her plate, in a tone and with a look which made it plain to all that things were not progressing well between them. George and his Annie did get on somewhat better; but even they were not quite at their ease. Mrs. Cox had said, before luncheon, that she had not known Mr. Bertram long enough to declare her love for him. But the hours between luncheon and dinner might have been a sufficient prolongation of the period of their acquaintance. George, however, had not repeated the question; and had, indeed, not been alone with her for five minutes during the afternoon.

That evening, Wilkinson again warned his friend that he might be going too far with Mrs. Cox; that he might say that which he could neither fulfil nor retract. For Wilkinson clearly conceived it to be impossible that Bertram should really intend to marry this widow.

"And why should I not marry her?" said George.

"She would not suit you, nor make you happy."

"What right have I to think that any woman will suit me? or what chance is there that any woman will make me happy? Is it not all leather and prunella? She is pretty and clever, soft and feminine. Where shall I find a nicer toy to play with? You forget, Arthur, that I have had my day-dreams, and been roused from them somewhat roughly. With you, the pleasure is still to come."

After this they turned in and went to bed.

CHAPTER X

REACHING HOME

Early in their journeyings together, Mrs. Cox had learned from George that he was possessed of an eccentric old uncle; and not long afterwards, she had learned from Arthur that this uncle was very rich, that he was also childless, and that he was supposed to be very fond of his nephew. Putting all these things together, knowing that Bertram had no profession, and thinking that therefore he must be a rich man, she had considered herself to be acting with becoming prudence in dropping Major Biffin for his sake.

But on the day after the love scene recorded in the last chapter, a strange change came over the spirit of her dream. "I am a very poor man," Bertram had said to her, after making some allusion to what had taken place.

"If that were all, that would make no difference with me," said Mrs. Cox, magnanimously.

"If that were all, Annie! What does that mean?"

"If I really loved a man, I should not care about his being poor. But your poverty is what I should call riches, I take it."

"No, indeed. My poverty is absolute poverty. My own present income is about two hundred a year."

"Oh, I don't understand the least about money myself. I never did. I was such a child when I was married to Cox. But I thought, Mr. Bertram, your uncle was very rich."

"So he is; as rich as a gold-mine. But we are not very good friends – at any rate, not such friends as to make it probable that he will leave me a farthing. He has a granddaughter of his own."

This, and a little more of the same kind, taught Mrs. Cox that it behoved her to be cautious. That Major Biffin had a snug little income over and above that derived from his profession was a fact that had been very well ascertained. That he was very dry, as dry as a barber's block, might be true. That George Bertram was an amusing fellow, and made love in much better style than the major, certainly was true. But little as she might know about money, Mrs. Cox did know this – that when poverty comes in at the door, love flies out at the window; that eating and drinking are stern necessities; that love in a cottage is supposed to be, what she would call, bosh; and that her own old home used to be very unpleasant when Cox was in debt, and those eastern Jewish harpies would come down upon him with his overdue bills. Considering all this, Mrs. Cox thought it might be well not to ratify her engagement with Mr. Bertram till after they should reach Southampton. What if Biffin – the respectable Biffin – should again come forward!