<p><SPAN name="c5" id="c5"></SPAN> </p>
<p> </p>
<h3>CHAPTER V</h3>
<h3>Showing How Mr Rubb, Junior, Progressed at Littlebath<br/> </h3>
<p>A full week had passed by after Mrs Stumfold's tea-party before Mr
Rubb called again at the Paragon; and in the meantime Miss Mackenzie
had been informed by her lawyer that there did not appear to be any
objection to the mortgage, if she liked the investment for her money.</p>
<p>"You couldn't do better with your money,—you couldn't indeed," said
Mr Rubb, when Miss Mackenzie, meaning to be cautious, started the
conversation at once upon matters of business.</p>
<p>Mr Rubb had not been in any great hurry to repeat his call, and Miss
Mackenzie had resolved that if he did come again she would treat him
simply as a member of the firm with whom she had to transact certain
monetary arrangements. Beyond that she would not go; and as she so
resolved, she repented herself of the sherry and biscuit.</p>
<p>The people whom she had met at Mr Stumfold's had been all ladies and
gentlemen; she, at least, had supposed them to be so, not having as
yet received any special information respecting the wife of the
retired coachbuilder. Mr Rubb was not a gentleman; and though she was
by no means inclined to give herself airs,—though, as she assured
herself, she believed Mr Rubb to be quite as good as herself,—yet
there was, and must always be, a difference among people. She had no
inclination to be proud; but if Providence had been pleased to place
her in one position, it did not behove her to degrade herself by
assuming a position that was lower. Therefore, on this account, and
by no means moved by any personal contempt towards Mr Rubb, or the
Rubbs of the world in general, she was resolved that she would not
ask him to take any more sherry and biscuits.</p>
<p>Poor Miss Mackenzie! I fear that they who read this chronicle of her
life will already have allowed themselves to think worse of her than
she deserved. Many of them, I know, will think far worse of her than
they should think. Of what faults, even if we analyse her faults, has
she been guilty? Where she has been weak, who among us is not, in
that, weak also? Of what vanity has she been guilty with which the
least vain among us might not justly tax himself? Having been left
alone in the world, she has looked to make friends for herself; and
in seeking for new friends she has wished to find the best that might
come in her way.</p>
<p>Mr Rubb was very good-looking; Mr Maguire was afflicted by a terrible
squint. Mr Rubb's mode of speaking was pleasant to her; whereas she
was by no means sure that she liked Mr Maguire's speech. But Mr
Maguire was by profession a gentleman. As the discreet young man, who
is desirous of rising in the world, will eschew skittles, and in
preference go out to tea at his aunt's house—much more delectable as
skittles are to his own heart—so did Miss Mackenzie resolve that it
would become her to select Messrs Stumfold and Maguire as her male
friends, and to treat Mr Rubb simply as a man of business. She was
denying herself skittles and beer, and putting up with tea and an old
aunt, because she preferred the proprieties of life to its pleasures.
Is it right that she should be blamed for such self-denial? But now
the skittles and beer had come after her, as those delights will
sometimes pursue the prudent youth who would fain avoid them. Mr Rubb
was there, in her drawing-room, looking extremely well, shaking hands
with her very comfortably, and soon abandoning his conversation on
that matter of business to which she had determined to confine
herself. She was angry with him, thinking him to be very free and
easy; but, nevertheless, she could not keep herself from talking to
him.</p>
<p>"You can't do better than five per cent," he had said to her, "not
with first-class security, such as this is."</p>
<p>All that had been well enough. Five per cent and first-class security
were, she knew, matters of business; and though Mr Rubb had winked
his eye at her as he spoke of them, leaning forward in his chair and
looking at her not at all as a man of business, but quite in a
friendly way, yet she had felt that she was so far safe. She nodded
her head also, merely intending him to understand thereby that she
herself understood something about business. But when he suddenly
changed the subject, and asked her how she liked Mr Stumfold's set,
she drew herself up suddenly and placed herself at once upon her
guard.</p>
<p>"I have heard a great deal about Mr Stumfold," continued Mr Rubb, not
appearing to observe the lady's altered manner, "not only here and
where I have been for the last few days, but up in London also. He is
quite a public character, you know."</p>
<p>"Clergymen in towns, who have large congregations, always must so be,
I suppose."</p>
<p>"Well, yes; more or less. But Mr Stumfold is decidedly more, and not
less. People say he is going in for a bishopric."</p>
<p>"I had not heard it," said Miss Mackenzie, who did not quite
understand what was meant by going in for a bishopric.</p>
<p>"Oh, yes, and a very likely man he would have been a year or two ago.
But they say the prime minister has changed his tap lately."</p>
<p>"Changed his tap!" said Miss Mackenzie.</p>
<p>"He used to draw his bishops very bitter, but now he draws them mild
and creamy. I dare say Stumfold did his best, but he didn't quite get
his hay in while the sun shone."</p>
<p>"He seems to me to be very comfortable where he is," said Miss
Mackenzie.</p>
<p>"I dare say. It must be rather a bore for him having to live in the
house with old Peters. How Peters scraped his money together, nobody
ever knew yet; and you are aware, Miss Mackenzie, that old as he is,
he keeps it all in his own hands. That house, and everything that is
in it, belongs to him; you know that, I dare say."</p>
<p>Miss Mackenzie, who could not keep herself from being a little
interested in these matters, said that she had not known it.</p>
<p>"Oh dear, yes! and the carriage too. I've no doubt Stumfold will be
all right when the old fellow dies. Such men as Stumfold don't often
make mistakes about their money. But as long as old Peters lasts I
shouldn't think it can be quite serene. They say that she is always
cutting up rough with the old man."</p>
<p>"She seemed to me to behave very well to him," said Miss Mackenzie,
remembering the carriage of the tea-cup.</p>
<p>"I dare say it is so before company, and of course that's all right;
it's much better that the dirty linen should be washed in private.
Stumfold is a clever man, there's no doubt about that. If you've been
much to his house, you've probably met his curate, Mr Maguire."</p>
<p>"I've only been there once, but I did meet Mr Maguire."</p>
<p>"A man that squints fearfully. They say he's looking out for a wife
too, only she must not have a father living, as Mrs Stumfold has.
It's astonishing how these parsons pick up all the good things that
are going in the way of money." Miss Mackenzie, as she heard this,
could not but remember that she might be regarded as a good thing
going in the way of money, and became painfully aware that her face
betrayed her consciousness.</p>
<p>"You'll have to keep a sharp look out," continued Mr Rubb, giving her
a kind caution, as though he were an old familiar friend.</p>
<p>"I don't think there's any fear of that kind," said Miss Mackenzie,
blushing.</p>
<p>"I don't know about fear, but I should say that there is great
probability; of course I am only joking about Mr Maguire. Like the
rest of them, of course, he wishes to feather his own nest; and why
shouldn't he? But you may be sure of this, Miss Mackenzie, a lady
with your fortune, and, if I may be allowed to say so, with your
personal attractions, will not want for admirers."</p>
<p>Miss Mackenzie was very strongly of opinion that Mr Rubb might not be
allowed to say so. She thought that he was behaving with an
unwarrantable degree of freedom in saying anything of the kind; but
she did not know how to tell him either by words or looks that such
was the case. And, perhaps, though the impertinence was almost
unendurable, the idea conveyed was not altogether so grievous; it had
certainly never hitherto occurred to her that she might become a
second Mrs Stumfold; but, after all, why not? What she wanted was
simply this, that something of interest should be added to her life.
Why should not she also work in the vineyard, in the open
quasiclerical vineyard of the Lord's people, and also in the private
vineyard of some one of the people's pastors? Mr Rubb was very
impertinent, but it might, perhaps, be worth her while to think of
what he said. As regarded Mr Maguire, the gentleman whose name had
been specially mentioned, it was quite true that he did squint
awfully.</p>
<p>"Mr Rubb," said she, "if you please, I'd rather not talk about such
things as that."</p>
<p>"Nevertheless, what I say is true, Miss Mackenzie; I hope you don't
take it amiss that I venture to feel an interest about you."</p>
<p>"Oh! no," said she; "not that I suppose you do feel any special
interest about me."</p>
<p>"But indeed I do, and isn't it natural? If you will remember that
your only brother is the oldest friend that I have in the world, how
can it be otherwise? Of course he is much older than me, and very
much older than you, Miss Mackenzie."</p>
<p>"Just twelve years," said she, very stiffly.</p>
<p>"I thought it had been more, but in that case you and I are nearly of
an age. As that is so, how can I fail to feel an interest about you?
I have neither mother, nor sister, nor wife of my own; a sister,
indeed, I have, but she's married at Singapore, and I have not seen
her for seventeen years."</p>
<p>"Indeed."</p>
<p>"No, not for seventeen years; and the heart does crave for some
female friend, Miss Mackenzie."</p>
<p>"You ought to get a wife, Mr Rubb."</p>
<p>"That's what your brother always says. 'Samuel,' he said to me just
before I left town, 'you're settled with us now; your father has as
good as given up to you his share of the business, and you ought to
get married.' Now, Miss Mackenzie, I wouldn't take that sort of thing
from any man but your brother; it's very odd that you should say
exactly the same thing too."</p>
<p>"I hope I have not offended you."</p>
<p>"Offended me! no, indeed, I'm not such a fool as that. I'd sooner
know that you took an interest in me than any woman living. I would,
indeed. I dare say you don't think much of it, but when I remember
that the names of Rubb and Mackenzie have been joined together for
more than twenty years, it seems natural to me that you and I should
be friends."</p>
<p>Miss Mackenzie, in the few moments which were allowed to her for
reflection before she was obliged to answer, again admitted to
herself that he spoke the truth. If there was any fault in the matter
the fault was with her brother Tom, who had joined the name of
Mackenzie with the name of Rubb in the first instance. Where was this
young man to look for a female friend if not to his partner's family,
seeing that he had neither wife nor mother of his own, nor indeed a
sister, except one out at Singapore, who was hardly available for any
of the purposes of family affection? And yet it was hard upon her. It
was through no negligence on her part that poor Mr Rubb was so ill
provided. "Perhaps it might have been so if I had continued to live
in London," said Miss Mackenzie; "but as I live at Littlebath—" Then
she paused, not knowing how to finish her sentence.</p>
<p>"What difference does that make? The distance is nothing if you come
to think of it. Your hall door is just two hours and a quarter from
our place of business in the New Road; and it's one pound five and
nine if you go by first-class and cabs, or sixteen and ten if you put
up with second-class and omnibuses. There's no other way of counting.
Miles mean nothing now-a-days."</p>
<p>"They don't mean much, certainly."</p>
<p>"They mean nothing. Why, Miss Mackenzie, I should think it no trouble
at all to run down and consult you about anything that occurred,
about any matter of business that weighed at all heavily, if nothing
prevented me except distance. Thirty shillings more than does it all,
with a return ticket, including a bit of lunch at the station."</p>
<p>"Oh! and as for that—"</p>
<p>"I know what you mean, Miss Mackenzie, and I shall never forget how
kind you were to offer me refreshment when I was here before."</p>
<p>"But, Mr Rubb, I hope you won't think of doing such a thing. What
good could I do you? I know nothing about business; and really, to
tell the truth, I should be most unwilling to interfere—that is, you
know, to say anything about anything of the kind."</p>
<p>"I only meant to point out that the distance is nothing. And as to
what you were advising me about getting
<span class="nowrap">married—"</span></p>
<p>"I didn't mean to advise you, Mr Rubb!"</p>
<p>"I thought you said so."</p>
<p>"But, of course, I did not intend to discuss such a matter
seriously."</p>
<p>"It's a most serious subject to me, Miss Mackenzie."</p>
<p>"No doubt; but it's one I can't know anything about. Men in business
generally do find, I think, that they get on better when they are
married."</p>
<p>"Yes, they do."</p>
<p>"That's all I meant to say, Mr Rubb."</p>
<p>After this he sat silent for a few minutes, and I am inclined to
think that he was weighing in his mind the expediency of asking her
to become Mrs Rubb, on the spur of the moment. But if so, his mind
finally gave judgment against the attempt, and in giving such
judgment his mind was right. He would certainly have so startled her
by the precipitancy of such a proposition, as to have greatly
endangered the probability of any further intimacy with her. As it
was, he changed the conversation, and began to ask questions as to
the welfare of his partner's daughter. At this period of the day
Susanna was at school, and he was informed that she would not be home
till the evening. Then he plucked up courage and begged to be allowed
to come again,—just to look in at eight o'clock, so that he might
see Susanna. He could not go back to London comfortably, unless he
could give some tidings of Susanna to the family in Gower Street.
What was she to do? Of course she was obliged to ask him to drink tea
with them. "That would be so pleasant," he said; and Miss Mackenzie
owned to herself that the gratification expressed in his face as he
spoke was very becoming.</p>
<p>When Susanna came home she did not seem to know much of Mr Rubb,
junior, or to care much about him. Old Mr Rubb lived, she knew, near
the place of business in the New Road, and sometimes he came to Gower
Street, but nobody liked him. She didn't remember that she had ever
seen Mr Rubb, junior, at her mother's house but once, when he came to
dinner. When she was told that Mr Rubb was very anxious to see her,
she chucked up her head and said that the man was a goose.</p>
<p>He came, and in a very few minutes he had talked over Susanna. He
brought her a little present,—a work-box,—which he had bought for
her at Littlebath; and though the work-box itself did not altogether
avail, it paved the way for civil words, which were more efficacious.
On this occasion he talked more to his partner's daughter than to his
partner's sister, and promised to tell her mamma how well she was
looking, and that the air of Littlebath had brought roses to her
cheeks.</p>
<p>"I think it is a healthy place," said Miss Mackenzie.</p>
<p>"I'm quite sure it is," said Mr Rubb. "And you like Mrs Crammer's
school, Susanna?"</p>
<p>She would have preferred to have been called Miss Mackenzie, but was
not disposed to quarrel with him on the point.</p>
<p>"Yes, I like it very well," she said. "The other girls are very nice;
and if one must go to school, I suppose it's as good as any other
school."</p>
<p>"Susanna thinks that going to school at all is rather a nuisance,"
said Miss Mackenzie.</p>
<p>"You'd think so too, aunt, if you had to practise every day for an
hour in the same room with four other pianos. It's my belief that I
shall hate the sound of a piano the longest day that I shall live."</p>
<p>"I suppose it's the same with all young ladies," said Mr Rubb.</p>
<p>"It's the same with them all at Mrs Crammer's. There isn't one there
that does not hate it."</p>
<p>"But you wouldn't like not to be able to play," said her aunt.</p>
<p>"Mamma doesn't play, and you don't play; and I don't see what's the
use of it. It won't make anybody like music to hear four pianos all
going at the same time, and all of them out of tune."</p>
<p>"You must not tell them in Gower Street, Mr Rubb, that Susanna talks
like that," said Miss Mackenzie.</p>
<p>"Yes, you may, Mr Rubb. But you must tell them at the same time that
I am quite happy, and that Aunt Margaret is the dearest woman in the
world."</p>
<p>"I'll be sure to tell them that," said Mr Rubb. Then he went away,
pressing Miss Mackenzie's hand warmly as he took his leave; and as
soon as he was gone, his character was of course discussed.</p>
<p>"He's quite a different man, aunt, from what I thought; and he's not
at all like old Mr Rubb. Old Mr Rubb, when he comes to drink tea in
Gower Street, puts his handkerchief over his knees to catch the
crumbs."</p>
<p>"There's no great harm in that, Susanna."</p>
<p>"I don't suppose there's any harm in it. It's not wicked. It's not
wicked to eat gravy with your knife."</p>
<p>"And does old Mr Rubb do that?"</p>
<p>"Always. We used to laugh at him, because he is so clever at it. He
never spills any; and his knife seems to be quite as good as a spoon.
But this Mr Rubb doesn't do things of that sort."</p>
<p>"He's younger, my dear."</p>
<p>"But being younger doesn't make people more ladylike of itself."</p>
<p>"I did not know that Mr Rubb was exactly ladylike."</p>
<p>"That's taking me up unfairly; isn't it, aunt? You know what I meant;
and only fancy that the man should go out and buy me a work-box.
That's more than old Mr Rubb ever did for any of us, since the first
day he knew us. And, then, didn't you think that young Mr Rubb is a
handsome man, aunt?"</p>
<p>"He's all very well, my dear."</p>
<p>"Oh; I think he is downright handsome; I do, indeed. Miss
Dumpus,—that's Mrs Crammer's sister,—told us the other day, that I
was wrong to talk about a man being handsome; but that must be
nonsense, aunt?"</p>
<p>"I don't see that at all, my dear. If she told you so, you ought to
believe that it is not nonsense."</p>
<p>"Come, aunt; you don't mean to tell me that you would believe all
that Miss Dumpus says. Miss Dumpus says that girls should never laugh
above their breath when they are more than fourteen years old. How
can you make a change in your laughing just when you come to be
fourteen? And why shouldn't you say a man's handsome, if he is
handsome?"</p>
<p>"You'd better go to bed, Susanna."</p>
<p>"That won't make Mr Rubb ugly. I wish you had asked him to come and
dine here on Sunday, so that we might have seen whether he eats his
gravy with his knife. I looked very hard to see whether he'd catch
his crumbs in his handkerchief."</p>
<p>Then Susanna went to her bed, and Miss Mackenzie was left alone to
think over the perfections and imperfections of Mr Samuel Rubb,
junior.</p>
<p>From that time up to Christmas she saw no more of Mr Rubb; but she
heard from him twice. His letters, however, had reference solely to
business, and were not of a nature to produce either anger or
admiration. She had also heard more than once from her lawyer; and a
question had arisen as to which she was called upon to trust to her
own judgment for a decision. Messrs Rubb and Mackenzie had wanted the
money at once, whereas the papers for the mortgage were not ready.
Would Miss Mackenzie allow Messrs Rubb and Mackenzie to have the
money under these circumstances? To this inquiry from her lawyer she
made a rejoinder asking for advice. Her lawyer told her that he could
not recommend her, in the ordinary way of business, to make any
advance of money without positive security; but, as this was a matter
between friends and near relatives, she might perhaps be willing to
do it; and he added that, as far as his own opinion went, he did not
think that there would be any great risk. But then it all depended on
this:—did she want to oblige her friends and near relatives? In
answer to this question she told herself that she certainly did wish
to do so; and she declared,—also to herself,—that she was willing
to advance the money to her brother, even though there might be some
risk. The upshot of all this was that Messrs Rubb and Mackenzie got
the money some time in October, but that the mortgage was not
completed when Christmas came. It was on this matter that Mr Rubb,
junior, had written to Miss Mackenzie, and his letter had been of a
nature to give her a feeling of perfect security in the transaction.
With her brother she had had no further correspondence; but this did
not surprise her, as her brother was a man much less facile in his
modes of expression than his younger partner.</p>
<p>As the autumn had progressed at Littlebath, she had become more and
more intimate with Miss Baker, till she had almost taught herself to
regard that lady as a dear friend. She had fallen into the habit of
going to Mrs Stumfold's tea-parties every fortnight, and was now
regarded as a regular Stumfoldian by all those who interested
themselves in such matters. She had begun a system of district
visiting and Bible reading with Miss Baker, which had at first been
very agreeable to her. But Mrs Stumfold had on one occasion called
upon her and taken her to task,—as Miss Mackenzie had thought,
rather abruptly,—with reference to some lack of energy or indiscreet
omission of which she had been judged to be guilty by that
highly-gifted lady. Against this Miss Mackenzie had rebelled mildly,
and since that things had not gone quite so pleasantly with her. She
had still been honoured with Mrs Stumfold's card of invitation, and
had still gone to the tea-parties on Miss Baker's strenuously-urged
advice; but Mrs Stumfold had frowned, and Miss Mackenzie had felt the
frown; Mrs Stumfold had frowned, and the retired coachbuilder's wife
had at once snubbed the culprit, and Mr Maguire had openly expressed
himself to be uneasy.</p>
<p>"Dearest Miss Mackenzie," he had said, with charitable zeal, "if
there has been anything wrong, just beg her pardon, and you will find
that everything has been forgotten at once; a more forgiving woman
than Mrs Stumfold never lived."</p>
<p>"But suppose I have done nothing to be forgiven," urged Miss
Mackenzie.</p>
<p>Mr Maguire looked at her, and shook his head, the exact meaning of
the look she could not understand, as the peculiarity of his eyes
created confusion; but when he repeated twice to her the same words,
"The heart of man is exceeding treacherous," she understood that he
meant to condemn her.</p>
<p>"So it is, Mr Maguire, but that is no reason why Mrs Stumfold should
scold me."</p>
<p>Then he got up and left her, and did not speak to her again that
evening, but he called on her the next day, and was very affectionate
in his manner. In Mr Stumfold's mode of treating her she had found no
difference.</p>
<p>With Miss Todd, whom she met constantly in the street, and who always
nodded to her very kindly, she had had one very remarkable interview.</p>
<p>"I think we had better give it up, my dear," Miss Todd had said to
her. This had been in Miss Baker's drawing-room.</p>
<p>"Give what up?" Miss Mackenzie had asked.</p>
<p>"Any idea of our knowing each other. I'm sure it never can come to
anything, though for my part I should have been so glad. You see you
can't serve God and Mammon, and it is settled beyond all doubt that
I'm Mammon. Isn't it, Mary?"</p>
<p>Miss Baker, to whom this appeal was made, answered it only by a sigh.</p>
<p>"You see," continued Miss Todd, "that Miss Baker is allowed to know
me, though I am Mammon, for the sake of auld lang syne. There have
been so many things between us that it wouldn't do for us to drop
each other. We have had the same lovers; and you know, Mary, that
you've been very near coming over to Mammon yourself. There's a sort
of understanding that Miss Baker is not to be required to cut me. But
they would not allow that sort of liberty to a new comer; they
wouldn't, indeed."</p>
<p>"I don't know that anybody would be likely to interfere with me,"
said Miss Mackenzie.</p>
<p>"Yes, they would, my dear. You didn't quite know yourself which way
it was to be when you first came here, and if it had been my way, I
should have been most happy to have made myself civil. You have
chosen now, and I don't doubt but what you have chosen right. I
always tell Mary Baker that it does very well for her, and I dare say
it will do very well for you too. There's a great deal in it, and
only that some of them do tell such lies I think I should have tried
it myself. But, my dear Miss Mackenzie, you can't do both."</p>
<p>After this Miss Mackenzie used to nod to Miss Todd in the street, but
beyond that there was no friendly intercourse between those ladies.</p>
<p>At the beginning of December there came an invitation to Miss
Mackenzie to spend the Christmas holidays away from Littlebath, and
as she accepted this invitation, and as we must follow her to the
house of her friends, we will postpone further mention of the matter
till the next chapter.</p>
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