Horace admitted, with all needful gravity, that there was employment to
be had. The war between France and Germany, he remarked, was still going
on: the newspaper had offered to employ him again in the capacity of
correspondent.
"Don't speak of the newspapers and the war!" cried Lady Janet, with a
sudden explosion of anger, which was genuine anger this time. "I detest
the newspapers! I won't allow the newspapers to enter this house. I lay
the whole blame of the blood shed between France and Germany at their
door."
Horace's eyes opened wide in amazement. The old lady was evidently in
earnest. "What can you possibly mean?" he asked. "Are the newspapers
responsible for the war?"
"Entirely responsible," answered Lady Janet. "Why, you don't understand
the age you live in! Does anybody do anything nowadays (fighting
included) without wishing to see it in the newspapers? _I_ subscribe
to a charity; _thou_ art presented with a testimonial; _he_ preaches a
sermon; _we_ suffer a grievance; _you_ make a discovery; _they_ go to
church and get married. And I, thou, he; we, you, they, all want one and
the same thing--we want to see it in the papers. Are kings, soldiers,
and diplomatists exceptions to the general rule of humanity? Not they! I
tell you seriously, if the newspapers of Europe had one and all decided
not to take the smallest notice in print of the war between France and
Germany, it is my firm conviction the war would have come to an end for
want of encouragement long since. Let the pen cease to advertise the
sword, and I, for one, can see the result. No report--no fighting."
"Your views have the merit of perfect novelty, ma'am," said Horace.
"Would you object to see them in the newspapers?"
Lady Janet worsted her young friend with his own weapons.
"Don't I live in the latter part of the nineteenth century?" she asked.
"In the newspapers, did you say? In large type, Horace, if you love me!"
Horace changed the subject.
"You blame me for being out of spirits," he said; "and you seem to think
it is because I am tired of my pleasant life at Mablethorpe House. I am
not in the least tired, Lady Janet." He looked toward the conservatory:
the frown showed itself on his face once more. "The truth is," he
resumed, "I am not satisfied with Grace Roseberry."
"What has Grace done?"
"She persists in prolonging our engagement. Nothing will persuade her to
fix the day for our marriage."
It was true! Mercy had been mad enough to listen to him, and to
love him. But Mercy was not vile enough to marry him under her false
character, and in her false name. Between three and four months had
elapsed since Horace had been sent home from the war, wounded, and
had found the beautiful Englishwoman whom he had befriended in France
established at Mablethorpe House. Invited to become Lady Janet's
guest (he had passed his holidays as a school-boy under Lady Janet's
roof)--free to spend the idle time of his convalescence from morning to
night in Mercy's society--the impression originally produced on him in
a French cottage soon strengthened into love. Before the month was out
Horace had declared himself, and had discovered that he spoke to willing
ears. From that moment it was only a question of persisting long
enough in the resolution to gain his point. The marriage engagement was
ratified--most reluctantly on the lady's side--and there the further
progress of Horace Holmcroft's suit came to an end. Try as he might, he
failed to persuade his betrothed wife to fix the day for the marriage.
There were no obstacles in her way. She had no near relations of her own
to consult. As a connection of Lady Janet's by marriage, Horace's mother
and sisters were ready to receive her with all the honors due to a new
member of the family. No pecuniary considerations made it necessary, in
this case, to wait for a favorable time. Horace was an only son; and he
had succeeded to his father's estate with an ample income to support
it. On both sides alike there was absolutely nothing to prevent the
two young people from being married as soon as the settlements could
be drawn. And yet, to all appearance, here was a long engagement
in prospect, with no better reason than the lady's incomprehensible
perversity to explain the delay. "Can you account for Grace's conduct?"
asked Lady Janet. Her manner changed as she put the question. She looked
and spoke like a person who was perplexed and annoyed.