The Dodd Family Abroad, Vol. I

Mrs. G. had a headache, and Caroline was in pursuit of one over the pages of the "Thirty Years' War." Such was the tableau of the Dodd family on this agreeable day. I don't give myself much up to reflection, Bob. I have always thought that as life is a road to be travelled, one step forward is worth any number in the opposite direction; but I vow to you that, on this occasion, I did begin to ponder a little over the past and the present, with a half-glance at the future. What the governor had said the day before was no more than the truth, – we were living at a tremendous rate. If all belonging to us were sold, the capital would scarcely afford six or seven years of such expenditure. These were serious, if not stunning reflections, and I heartily wished they had occupied any other head than my own.

To you– who have always given your brains their own share of work – thinking is no labor. It's like a gallop to a horse in hard bunting condition, and only serves to keep him in wind; but to me, whose faculties are, so to say, fresh from grass, the fatigue of thought is no trifling infliction. Slow men, I take it, suffer more than your clever fellows on these occasions, since their minds are not suggestive of expedients, and they go on plodding over the same ground, till they make a beaten course in their poor brains, like an old race-ground. Something in this fashion must have occurred to me; for by dint of that dreary morning's rumination, I half made up my mind to emigrate somewhere, and if I did n't exactly know where, the fault lies more in my geography than my spirit of enterprise.

The only book I could lay my hands on likely to give me any information was "Cook's Voyages;" and this, I remembered, was in the governor's room. I at once descended the stairs, and had just reached the little conservatory outside of it, when I caught sight of a woman's dress beneath the thick foliage of the orange-trees. I crept noiselessly onward, and after a very devious series of artful dodges, I detected Mrs. D. playing eavesdropper at the governor's door.

I tried to persuade myself that I was mistaken. I did my best to fancy that she was botanizing or "bouquet" gathering; but no, the stubborn fact would not be denied. There she was, bent down, with ear and eye alternately at the keyhole. Neither the act nor the situation were very dignified, and determining that she should not be detected by any other in this predicament, I kicked down a flower-pot, and, before I had well time to replace it, she was gone.

I 'm quite prepared for the laugh you 'll give, Bob, when I own to you that no sooner had I seen her vanish from the horizon than I deliberately took my place exactly where she had been. Of course, my sense of honor and delicacy suggested that I had no other object in view than to ascertain what it was that bad drawn her to the spot. Any curiosity that possessed me was strictly confined to this.

I accordingly bent my ear to the keyhole, and had just time to recognize Mrs. Gore Hampton's voice, when the noise of chairs being drawn back, and the scuffling sounds of feet, showed that the interview had come to an end. Scarcely a moment was left me to shelter myself among the leaves, when the door opened, "discovering," as stage directions would say, Mr. Dodd and Mrs. Gore Hampton in conversation.

There was really a dramatic look in the situation too. The governor's flowered dressing-gown and velvet skullcap, decorated in front by his up-raised spectacles, like a portcullis over his nose, contrasted so well with the graceful morning robe of Mrs. G., all floating and gauzy, and to which her every gesture imparted some new character of vapory lightness.

"Dear Mr. Dodd," said she, pressing his hand with extreme cordiality, "you have been so very, very kind, I really have no words to express what I feel towards you. I have long felt that I owed you this explanation – I have tried to summon courage for it for weeks past – then I sometimes doubted how you might receive it."

"Oh, madam!" interrupted he, gracefully closing his drapery with one hand, while he pressed the other on his heart.

"You kind creature!" cried she, enthusiastically. "I can now wonder at myself that I should ever have admitted a doubt on the question. But if you only knew what sorrows I have seen – if you only knew with what severe lessons mistrust and suspicion have become graven on this heart, young as it is – "

"Ah, madam!" murmured he, as though the last few words had made the deepest impression upon him.

"Well, it's over now," cried she, in her more natural tone of gayety. "The weary load is off me, and I am myself again, – thanks to you, dear, dear kind friend."

Faith, Bob, from the enthusiasm of the utterance of this last speech, I thought that a stage embrace ought to have followed; and I believe that the governor was of my mind too, and only restrained by some real or fancied necessity to keep his toga closed in front of him. Mrs. G., however, as though fearing that he might ultimately forget the "unities," again pressed his hand with both her own, and murmuring, "With you, then, my secret is safe, – to you all is confided," she hurried away, as if overcome by her feelings.

I could not guess what might have reached my mother's ears, but I thought to myself, if she only had heard even this much, and witnessed the fervor with which it was uttered, the governor's life for the next few weeks needs not be envied by any one out of a condemned cell. Not that to me the scene admitted of any interpretation which should warrant her suspicions; but so it is, she takes a jealous turn every now and then, and he can't take a pinch of snuff without her peering over his shoulder to see if he has not got a miniature in the lid of the box. He used to try to reason her out of these notions, – his vindications even took the dangerous length of certain abstract opinions about the sex in general, very far from complimentary; but latterly he has sought refuge in drink, which usually ends in an illness, so that an attack of jealousy was the invariable premonitory symptom of one of gout; and my mother's temper and tincture of colchicum seemed inseparably connected by some unseen link.

From these thoughts I followed on to others about the scene itself, and what possible circumstance could have led Mrs. G. H. to visit the governor in his own room, and what was the prodigious mystery she had just confided to his keeping. Probability, I fear, takes up little space in any speculation about a woman. I am sure that if I were to recount to you one-half of the absurd and extravagant fancies that occurred to me on this occasion, you would infallibly set me down as mad. I 'll not tax your patience with the recital, but frankly confess to you that I have not a clew, even the slightest, to the mystery; nor from the manner in which I have learned its existence, can I venture to ask Lord George to aid me.

The incident had one effect, – it totally banished emigration, clearings, and log huts from my mind, and set my thoughts a rambling upon all the strange people and extraordinary events that travelling abroad introduces one to; and with this reflection I strolled back to my room, and sat brooding over the fire till it was time to dress for dinner. Although you may not have the vaguest notion of what is passing in the minds of certain people, the very fact that they are fully occupied with certain strong feelings is a reason for observing them with an extraordinary interest; and so was it that our party at table that day was full of meaning to me. There was a kind of languid repose about Mrs. Gore Hampton's manner which seemed especially assumed towards the governor, and a certain fidgety consciousness in his, sufficiently noticeable; while my mother, dressed in one of her war turbans, looked unutterably fierce things on every side. It was easy enough to see that all this additional weight upon the safety-valves of her temper threatened a terrible explosion at last, and it required all the tact I could muster to my aid to defer the catastrophe. Lord George gave me, too, his willing aid, and by the help of an old Professor of Oriental Languages, we made up her rubber of whist in the evening.

Alas, Bob! even four by honors couldn't console her for the "odd trick" she suspected the governor was playing her; and she broke up the card-table, and retired with that swelling dignity of manner that is the accompaniment of injured feelings.

It had been our plan to proceed from this place direct to Baden-Baden, which, from everything I can learn, must be a perfect paradise; but now, to my great surprise, I discovered that for some secret reason we should first go to Ems, and remain there a week or two before proceeding further. This arrangement was Mrs. G's, and Lord George seemed to give it his hearty concurrence; alleging, but for the first time, that it was absurd to think of Baden before the middle of July. I could easily perceive that this change of purpose contained some mysterious motive; but, as Tiverton persisted in averring that it was "all on the square," and "no double," I had to accept it as such.

Such is, therefore, our position as I write these lines; and although to-morrow might develop the first movement of the campaign, I cannot keep my letter open to communicate it You will see that we are as divided as a Ministerial Cabinet. Some of us, doubtless, have their honest convictions, and others are, perhaps, plastic enough to receive impressions from without, but how we are to work together, and how, as the great authority said, the "Government is to be carried on," is more than yet appears to

Your ever attached friend,

James Dodd.

I open my letter to say that Lord G. has just dropped in to tell me what is the plan of procedure. The Grand Duchess of Hohenschwillinghen is to arrive at Ems this week, and Mrs. G. H. is anxious to wait upon her at once. They were dear friends once, but something or other interposed a coolness between them of late years. Lord G. endeavored to explain this, but I couldn't follow the story. It was something about one of our royal family wanting to marry, or not to marry, somebody else, and that Mrs. G. H. or the Duchess had promoted or opposed the match. Suffice, it was a regular kingly shindy, and all engaged in it were of the blood royal.

The really important thing at the moment is that the governor is to conduct Mrs. G. H. to-morrow to Ems, and we are to follow in a day or two. How my mother will receive this information, or who is to communicate it to her, are questions not so easily solved.

LETTER XXI. MRS. DODD TO MISTRESS MARY GALLAGHER

My dear Molly, – If it wasn't that I am supported in a wonderful way, and that my appetite keeps good for the bit I eat, I would n't be able to sit down here and relate the sufferings of my afflicted heart There has been nothing but trials and tribulations over me since I wrote last, and I knew it was coming, too, for that dirty beast, Paddy Byrne, upset the lamp, and spilled all the oil over the sofa the other evening; and whilst the others were scouring and scrubbing with spirit of soap and neumonia, I sat down to cry heartily, for I foresaw what was coming; and I knew well that spilt oil is the unluckiest thing that ever happens in a family.

Maybe I wasn't right The very next morning Betty Cobb goes and cuts my antic lace flounce down the middle, to make borders for caps; and that wasn't enough, but she puts the front breadth of my new flowered satin upside down, so that, "to make the roses go right," as James says, "I ought to walk on my head." That's spilt oil for you!

Whilst I was endeavoring to bear up against these with all Christian animosity, in comes the post-bag. The very sight of it, Molly, gave me a turn; and, I declare to you, I knew as well there was bad news in it as if I was inside of it. You've often beard of a "presentment" Molly, and that's what I had; and when you have that, it's no matter what it's about, whether it's a road that's broke up, or a bridge that's broke down, take my advice, and never listen to what they call "reason," for it's just flying in the face of Providence. I had one before Mary Anne was born. I thought the poor baby would have the mark of a snail on her neck; and true enough, the very same week K. I. was shot through the skirts of his coat, and came home with five slugs in him; and when you think, as Father Maher said, "Slugs and snails are own brothers," or, at least, have a strong anomaly between them, my dream came true; not but I acknowledge, gratefully, that in this case the fright was worse than the reality.

Well, to come back to the bag; I looked at it, and said to myself, as I often said to K. I., "Smooth and slippery as you seem without, there's bad inside of you;" and you 'll see yourself if I was n't right both ways.

The first letter they took out was for myself, and in Waters's handwriting. It began with all the balderdash and hard names the lawyers have for everything, trying to confuse and confound, just as, Father Maher says, the "scuttle-fish" muddies the water before he runs away; but towards the end, my dear, he grew plainer and more conspicuous, for he said, "You will perceive, by the subjoined account, that after the payment of law charges, and other contingent expenses, the sum at your disposal will amount to twelve hundred and thirty-four pounds six and ninepence-halfpenny." I thought I 'd drop, Molly, as I read it; I shook and I trembled, and I believe, indeed, ended with a strong fit of screeching, for my nerves was weak before, and really this shock was too much for any constitution. Twelve hundred and thirty-six! when I expected, at the very least, fifteen or sixteen thousand pounds! It was only that very blessed morning that I was planning to myself about a separation from K. I. I calculated that I 'd have about six hundred a year of my own; and, out of decency sake, he could n't refuse me three or four more, and with this, and my present knowledge of the Continent, I thought I 'd do remarkably well. For I must observe to you, Molly, that there's no manner of disgrace, or even unpleasantness, in being separated abroad. It is not like in Ireland, where everybody thinks the worse of you both; and, what between your own friends and your husband's friends, there is n't an event of your private life that 's not laid bare before the world, so that, at last, the defence of you turns out to be just as dreadful as the abuse. No, Molly, here it's all different Next to being divorced, the most fashionable thing is a separation, and for one woman, in really high life, that lives with her husband, you 'll find three that does not. I suppose, like everything else in this sinful world, there's good and there 's bad in this custom. When I first came abroad, I own, I disliked to see it. I fancied that, no matter how it came about, the women was always wrong. But that was merely an Irish prejudice, and, like many others, I have lived to get rid of it. There 's nothing convinces you of this so soon as knowing intimately the ladies that are in this situation.

Of all the amiable creatures I ever met, I know nothing to compare with them. It is not merely of manners and good breeding that I speak, but the gentle, mild quietness of their temper, – a kind of submissive softness that, I own to you, one can't have with their husbands, and maybe that's the reason they 've left them. I merely mention this to show you that if I had a reasonably good income, and was separated from K. I., there 's no society abroad that I mightn't be in; and, in fact, my dear Molly, I may sum all up by saying that living with your husband may give you some comfort when you 're at home, but it certainly excludes you from all sympathy abroad; and for one friend that you have in the former case, you 'll have, at the least, ten in the latter.

This will explain to you why and how my thoughts ran upon separation, for if I had stayed in Ireland, I 'm sure I 'd never have thought of it; for I own to you, with shame and sorrow, Molly, that we know no more about civilization in our poor Ireland "than," as Lord George says, "a prairie bull does about oil-cake."

You may judge, then, of what my feelings was when I read Waters's letter, and saw all my elegant hopes melting like jelly on a hot plate. Twelve hundred pounds! Was it out of mockery he left it to me? Faith, Molly, I cried more that night than ever I thought to do for old Jones M'Carthy! Myself and Mary Anne was as red in the eyes as two ferrets.

The first, and of course the great shock was the loss of the money, and after that came the thought of the way K. I. would behave when he discovered my disappointment. For I must tell you that the bare idea of my being independent drove him almost crazy. He seemed, somehow, to have a kind of lurking suspicion that I'd want to separate, and now, when he 'd come to discover the trifle I was left, there would be no enduring his gibes and his jeers. I had it all before me how he 'd go on, tormenting and harassing me from daylight to dark. This was dreadful, Molly, and overcame me completely. I knew him well; and that he would n't be satisfied with laughing at my legacy, but he 'd go on to abuse the M'Carthy family and all my relations. There's nothing a low man detests like the real old nobility of a country.

Mary Anne and I talked it all over the whole night, and turned it every way we could think. If we kept the whole secret, it would save "going into black" for ourselves and the servants, and that was a great object; but then we could n't take the name of M'Carthy after that of Dodd, quartering the arms on our shield, and so on, without announcing the death of poor Jones M'Carthy. There was the hitch; for Mary Anne persisted in thinking that the best thing about it all was the elegant opportunity it offered of getting rid of the name of Dodd, or, at the least, hiding it under the shadow of M'Carthy.

Ah, my dear Molly, you know the proverb, "Man proposes, but fate opposes." While we were discoursing over these things, little I guessed the mine that was going to explode under my feet. I mentioned to you in my last, I think, a lady with whom we agreed to travel in company, – a Mrs. Gore Hampton, a very handsome, showy woman, – though I own to you, Molly, not what I call "one of my beauties."

She is tall and dark-haired, and has that kind of soft, tender way with men that I remark does more mischief than any other. We all liked her greatly at first, – I suppose she determined we should, and spared no pains to suit herself to our various dispositions. I 'm sure I tried to be as accommodating as she was, and I took to arts and sciences that I could n't find any pleasure in; but I went with the stream, as the saying is, and you 'll see where it left me! I vow to you I had my misgivings that a handsome, fine-looking young woman was only thinking of dried frogs and ferns. They were n't natural tastes, and so I kept a sharp eye on her. At one time I suspected she was tender on Lord George, and then I thought it was James; but at last, Molly darling, the truth flashed across me, like a streak of lightning, making me stone blind in a minute! What was it I perceived, do you think, but that the real "Lutherian" was no other than K. I. himself? I feel that I 'm blushing as I write it The father of three children, grown-up, and fifty-eight in November, if he's not more, but he won't own to it.

There's things, Molly, "too dreadful," as Father Maher remarks, "for human credulity," and when one of them comes across you in life, the only thing is to take up the Litany to St Joseph, and go over it once or twice, then read a chapter or two of Dr. Croft's "Modern Miracles of the Church," and by that time you're in a frame to believe anything. Well, as I had n't the book by me, I thought I 'd take a solitary ramble by myself, to reflect and consider, and down I went to a kind of greenhouse that is full of orange and lemon trees, and where I was sure to be alone.

K. I. has what he calls his dressing-room – it's little trouble dressing gives him – at the end of this; but I was n't attending to that, but sitting with a heavy heart under a dwarf fig-tree, like Nebuchadnezzar, and only full of my own misfortunes, when I heard through the trees the rustling sound of a woman's dress. I bent down my head to see, and there was Mrs. G. in a white muslin dressing-gown, but elegantly trimmed with Malines lace, two falls round the cape, and the same on the arm, just as becoming a thing as any she could put on.

"What's this for?" said I to myself; for you may guess I knew she did n't dress that way to pluck lemons and green limes; and so I sat watching her in silence. She stood, evidently listening, for a minute or two; she then gathered two or three flowers, and stuck them in her waist, and, after that, she hummed a few bars of a tune, quite low, and as if to herself. That was, I suppose, a signal, for K. I.'s door opened; and there he stood himself, and a nice-looking article he was, with his ragged robe de chambre, and his greasy skull-cap, bowing and scraping like an old monkey. "I little knew that such a flower was blooming in the conservatory," said he, with a smirk I suppose he thought quite captivating.

"You do not pretend that you selected your apartment here but in the hope of watching the unfolding buds," replied she; and then, with something in a lower voice, to which he answered in the same, she passed on into his room, and he closed the door after her.

I suppose I must have fainted, Molly, after that. I remembered nothing, except seeing lemon and orange trees all sliding and flitting about, and felt myself as if I was shooting down the Rhine on a raft. Maybe it's for worse that I 'm reserved. Maybe it would have been well for me if I was carried away out of this world of woe, wickedness, and artful widows. When I came to myself, I suddenly recalled everything; and it was as much as I could do not to scream out and bring all the house to the spot and expose them both. But I subdued my indigent feelings, and, creeping over to the door, I peeped at them through the keyhole.

K. I. was seated in his big chair, she in another close beside him. He was reading a letter, and she watching him, as if her life depended on him.

"Now read this," said she, thrusting another paper into his hand, "for you 'll see it is even worse."

"My heart bleeds for you, my dear Mrs. Gore," said he, taking off his spectacles and wiping his eyes, and red enough they were afterwards, for there was snuff on his handkerchief, – "my heart bleeds for you!"

These were his words; and why I didn't break open the door when I heard them, is more than I can tell.

"I was certain of your sympathy; I knew you 'd feel for me, my dear Mr. Dodd," said she, sobbing.

"Of course you were," said I to myself. "He was the kind of old fool you wanted. But, faith, he shall feel for me, too, or my name is not Jemima."

"I don't suppose you ever heard of so cruel a case?" said she, still sobbing.

"Never, – never," cried he, clasping his hands. "I did n't believe it was in the nature of man to treat youth, beauty, and loveliness with such inhumanity. One that could do it must be a Creole Indian."

"Ah, Mr. Dodd!" said she, looking up into his eyes.

"In Tartary, or the Tropics," said he, "such wretches may be found, but in our own country and our own age – "

"Ah, Mr. Dodd," said she, again, "it is only in an Irish heart such generous emotions have their home!"

The artful hussey, she knew the tenderest spot of his nature by an instinct! for if there was anything he could n't resist, it was the appeal to his being Irish. And to show you, Molly, the designing craft of her, she knew that weakness of K. I. in less than a month's acquaintance, that I did n't find out till I was eight or nine years married to him.

For a minute or two my feelings overcame me so much that I could n't look or listen to them; but when I did, she had her hand on his arm, and was saying in the softest voice, —

"I may, then, count upon your kindness, – I may rest assured of your friendship."

"That you may, – that you may, my dear madam," said he.

Yes, Molly, he called her "madam" to her own face.

"If there should be any cruel enough, ungenerous enough, or base enough," sobbed she, "to calumniate me, you will be my protector; and beneath your roof shall I find my refuge. Your character – your station in society – the honorable position you have ever held in the world – your claims as a father – your age – will all give the best contradiction to any scandal that malevolence can invent. Those dear venerable locks – "