Down at Matching Lady Mary's life was very dull after Mrs Finn had left her. She had a horse to ride, but had no one to ride with her; she had a carriage in which to be driven, but no one to be driven with her, and no special places whither to go. Her father would walk daily for two hours, and she would accompany him when he encouraged her to do so; but she had an idea that he preferred taking his walks alone, and when they were together there was no feeling of confidence between them. There could be none on her part, as she knew that she was keeping back information which he was entitled to possess. On this matter she received two letters from Mrs Finn, in the first of which she was told that Mr Tregear intended to present himself at Matching within a few days, and was advised in the same letter not to endeavour to see her lover on that occasion; and then, in the second she was informed that this interview with her father was to be sought not at Matching but in London. From this letter there was of course some disappointment, though some feeling of relief. Had he come there she might possibly have seen him after the interview. But she would have been subjected to the immediate sternness of her father's anger.
That she would now escape. She would not be called on to meet him just when the first blow had fallen upon him. She was quite sure that he would disapprove of the thing. She was quite sure that he would be very angry. She knew that he was a peculiarly just man, and yet she thought that in this he would be unjust. Had she been called upon to sing the praises of her father she would have insisted above all things on the absolute integrity of his mind, and yet, knowing as she did that he would be opposed to her marriage with Mr Tregear, she assured herself every day and every hour that he had no right to make any such objection. The man she loved was a gentleman, and an honest man, by no means a fool, and subject to no vices. Her father had no right to demand that she should give her heart to a rich man, or to one of high rank. Rank!
As for rank, she told herself that she had the most supreme contempt for it. She thought that she had seen it near enough already to be sure that it ought to have no special allurements.
What was it doing for her? Simply restraining her choice among comparatively a few who seemed to her by no means best endowed of God's creatures.
Of one thing she was very sure, that under no pressure whatsoever would she abandon her engagement to Mr Tregear. That to her had become a bond almost as holy as matrimony itself could be. She had told the man that she loved him, and after that there could be no retreat. He had kissed her, and she had returned his caress. He had told her that she was his, as his arm was round her; and she had acknowledged that it was so, that she belonged to him, and could not be taken away from him. All this was to her a compact so sacred that nothing could break it but a desire on his part to have it annulled. No other man had an idea entered into her mind that it could be pleasant to join her lot in life with his. With her it had been all new and all sacred. Love with her had that religion which nothing but freshness can give it. That freshness, that bloom, may last through a long life. But every change impairs it, and after many changes it has perished forever. There was no question with her but that she must bear her father's anger, should he be angry; put up with his continued opposition, should he resolutely oppose her; bear all that the countesses of the world might say to her;--for it was thus that she thought of Lady Cantrip now. And retrogression was beyond her power.
She was walking with her father when she first heard of the intended trip to London. At that time she had received Mrs Finn's first letter, but not the second. 'I suppose you will see Silverbridge,' she said. She knew that Frank Tregear was living with her brother.
'I am going up on purpose to see him. He is causing me much annoyance.'
'Is he extravagant?'
'It is not that--at present.' He winced even as he said this, for he had in truth suffered somewhat from demands made upon him for money; which had hurt him not so much by their amount as by their nature. Lord Silverbridge had taken upon himself to 'own a horse or two', very much to his father's chagrin, and was at that moment part proprietor of an animal supposed to stand well for the Derby.
The fact was not announced in the papers with his lordship's name, but his father was aware of it, and did not like it the better because his son held the horse in partnership with a certain Major Tifto, who was well known in the sporting world.
'What is it, papa?'
'Of course he ought to go into Parliament.'
'I think he wishes it himself.'
'Yes, but how? By a piece of extreme good fortune. West Barsetshire is open to him. The two seats are vacant together.
There is hardly another agricultural county in England that will return a Liberal, and I fear I am not asserting too much in saying that no other Liberal could carry the seat but one of our family.'
'You used to sit for Silverbridge, papa.'
'Yes, I did. In those days the county returned four Conservatives.
I cannot explain it all to you, but it is his duty to contest the county on the Liberal side.'
'But if he is a Conservative himself, papa?' asked Lady Mary, who had some political ideas suggested to her own mind by her lover.
'It is all rubbish. It has come from that young man Tregear, with whom he has been associating.'
'But, papa,' said Lady Mary, who felt that even in this matter she was bound to be firm on what was now her side of the question. 'I suppose it is as--as--as respectable to be a Conservative as a Liberal.'
'I don't know that at all,' said the Duke angrily.
'I thought that--the two sides were--'