On the Monday morning at six o'clock, Mr Oriel and Frank started together; but early as it was, Beatrice was up to give them a cup of coffee, Mr Oriel having slept that night in the house. Whether Frank would have received the coffee from his sister's fair hands had not Mr Oriel been there, may be doubted. He, however, loudly asserted that he should not have done so, when she laid claim to great merit for rising on his behalf.
Mr Oriel had been specially instigated by Lady Arabella to use the opportunity of their joint journey, for pointing out to Frank the iniquity as well as madness of the course he was pursuing; and he had promised to obey her ladyship's request. But Mr Oriel was perhaps not an enterprising man, and was certainly not a presumptuous one. He did intend to do as he was bid; but when he began, with the object of leading up to the subject of Frank's engagement, he always softened down into some much easier enthusiasm in the matter of his own engagement with Beatrice. He had not that perspicuous, but not over-sensitive strength of mind which had enabled Harry Baker to express his opinion out at once; and boldly as he did it, yet to do so without offence.
Four times before the train arrived in London, he made some little attempt; but four times he failed. As the subject was matrimony, it was his easiest course to begin about himself; but never could he get any further.
'No man was ever more fortunate in a wife than I shall be,' he said, with a soft, euphuistic self-complacency, which would have been silly had it been adopted to any other person than the bride's brother. His intention, however, was very good, for he meant to show, that in his case marriage was prudent and wise, because his case differed so widely from that of Frank.
'Yes,' said Frank. 'She is an excellent good girl:' he had said it three times before, and was not very energetic.
'Yes, and so exactly suited to me; indeed, all that I could have dreamed of. How very well she looked this morning! Some girls only look well at night. I should not like that at all.'
'You mustn't expect her to look like that always at six o'clock a.m.,' said Frank, laughing. 'Young ladies only take that trouble on very particular occasions. She wouldn't have come down like that if my father or I had been going alone. No, and she won't do that for you in a couple of years' time.'
'Oh, but she's always nice. I have seen her at home as much almost as you could do; and then she's so sincerely religious.'
'Oh, yes, of course; that is, I am sure she is,' said Frank, looking solemn as became him.
'She's made to be a clergyman's wife.'
'Well, so it seems,'said Frank.
'A married life, I'm sure, the happiest in the world--if people are only in a position to marry,' said Mr Oriel, gradually drawing near to the accomplishment of his design.
'Yes; quite so. Do you know, Oriel, I never was so sleepy in my life.
What with all that fuss of Gazebee's, and one thing and another, I could not get to bed till one o'clock; and then I couldn't sleep. I'll take a snooze now, if you won't think it uncivil.' And then, putting his feet on the opposite seat, he settled himself comfortably to his rest. And so Mr Oriel's last attempt for lecturing Frank in the railway-carriage faded away and was annihilated.
By twelve o'clock Frank was with Messrs Slow & Bideawhile. Mr Bideawhile was engaged at the moment, but he found the managing Chancery clerk to be a very chatty gentleman. Judging from what he saw, he would have said that the work to be done at Messrs Slow & Bideawhile's was not very heavy.
'A singular man that Sir Louis,' said the Chancery clerk.
'Yes; very singular,' said Frank.
'Excellent security; no better; and yet he will foreclose; but you see he has no power himself. But the question is, can the trustee refuse?
Then, again, trustees are so circumscribed nowadays that they are afraid to do anything. There has been so much said lately, Mr Gresham, that a man doesn't know where he is, or what he is doing. Nobody trusts anybody. There have been such terrible things that we can't wonder at it. Only think of the case of those Hills! How can any one expect that any one else will ever trust a lawyer again after that? But that's Mr Bideawhile's bell. How can one expect it? He will see you now, I dare say, Mr Gresham.'
So it turned out, and Frank was ushered into the presence of Mr Bideawhile. He had got his lesson by heart, and was going to rush into the middle of his subject; such a course, however, was not in accordance with Mr Bideawhile's usual practice. Mr Bideawhile got up from his large wooden-seated Windsor chair, and, with a soft smile, in which, however, was mingled some slight dash of the attorney's acuteness, put out his hand to his young client; not, indeed, as though he were going to shake hands with him, but as though the hand were some ripe fruit all but falling, which his visitor might take and pluck if he thought proper.
Frank took hold of the hand, which returned no pressure, and then let it go again, not making any attempt to gather the fruit.
'I have come up to town, Mr Bideawhile, about this mortgage.'
'Mortgage--ah, sit down, Mr Gresham; sit down. I hope your father is quite well?'
'Quite well, thank you.'
'I have a great regard for your father. So I had for your grandfather; a very good man indeed. You, perhaps, don't remember him, Mr Gresham?'
'He died when I was only a year old.'
'Oh, yes; no, you of course, can't remember him; but I do well: he used to be very fond of some port wine I had. I think it was "11"; and if I don't mistake, I have a bottle or two of it yet; but it is not worth drinking now. Port wine, you know, won't keep beyond a certain time.
That was very good wine. I don't exactly remember what it stood me a dozen then; but such wine can't be had now. As for the Madeira, you know there's an end of that. Do you drink Madeira, Mr Gresham?'
'No,' said Frank, 'not very often.'
