the twenty years which had rolled over the head of robert meredith, the anxiously expected guest, since last we saw him, may be thus briefly recapitulated. the school selected by james dugdale for his protégé's education was the now celebrated, but then little heard-of grammar-school of lowebarre. not that the _alumni_, as they delight to call themselves, recognise their old place of education by any such familiar name. to them it is and always will be the fairfax-school; they are "fairfaxians," and the word lowebarre is altogether ignored.
the _fons et origo_ of these academic groves, pleasantly situate in the immediate vicinity of the metropolis, was one sir anthony fairfax, a worthy knight of the time of queen elizabeth, who, having lived his life merrily, according to the fashion of the old english gentlemen of those days, more especially in the matter of the consumption of sack and the carrying out of the _droits de seigneurie_, thought it better towards his latter days to endeavour to get up a few entries on the other side of the ledger of his life, and found the easiest method in the doing a deed of beneficence on a large scale. this was nothing less than the foundation of a school at lowebarre, where a portion of his property was situate, for the education of forty boys, who were to be gratuitously instructed in the learned languages, and morally and religiously brought up. how the scheme worked in those dark ages it is, of course, impossible to say.
but ten years before robert meredith was inducted into the _arcana_ of the classics the fairfax school was in a very low state indeed, and the fairfaxians themselves were no better than a set of roughs. the head master, an old gentleman who had been classically educated, indeed, but over whose head the rust of many years of farming had accumulated, took little heed of his scholars, whose numbers consequently dwindled half-year by half-year, and who, as they neglected not only the arts but everything else but stone-throwing and orchard-robbing had no manners to soften, and became brutal.
this state of affairs could not last. one of the governors or trustees acting under the founder's will saw that not merely was the muster-roll of the school diminishing, but its social _status_ was almost gone. he called a meeting of his coadjutors, impressed upon them the necessity of taking vigorous steps for getting rid of the then head master, and of at once procuring the services of a man ready to go with the times. advertisements judiciously worded were sent to all the newspapers, inviting candidates for the head-mastership of the fairfax school, and dilating in glowing terms on the advantages of that position; but time passed, and the post yet remained open. those who presented themselves were too much of the stamp of the existing holder of the situation to suit the enlarged views of the trustees, and it was not until mr. warwick, the governor who had first suggested the reform, busied himself personally in the matter, that the fitting individual was secured.
the rev. charles crampton, who, having taken a first-class in classics and a second in mathematics, having been fellow of his college and tutor of some of the best men of their years, had finally succumbed to the power of love, and subsided into a curacy of seventy-five pounds a year, was mr. warwick's selection. he brought with him testimonials of the highest character; but what weighed most with mr. warwick was the earnest recommendation of james dugdale, who had been mr. crampton's college friend.
poor charles crampton, when he sacrificed his fellowship for love, had little notion that he would have to pass the remainder of his life in grinding in a mill of boys. to study the fathers, to prepare two or three editions of his favourite classic authors, to play in a more modern and refined manner the part of the parson in the "deserted village," had been his hope. but though the old adage was not followed, though when poverty came in at the door (and she did come speedily enough, not in her harshest fiercest aspect it is true, but looking quite grimly enough to frighten an educated and refined gentleman). love did not fly out of the window, yet charles crampton had suffered sufficiently from _turpis egestas_ to induce him at once to accept the offer.
the salary of the fairfax head-mastership, though not large, quintupled his then income; the position held out to him was that of a gentleman, and though he had not any wild ideas of the dignity and responsibility of a school-mastership, the notion of having to battle in aid of a failing cause pleased and invigorated him, more especially when he reflected that, should he succeed, the _kudos_ of that success would be all his own.
so the reverend charles crampton was installed at lowebarre, and the wisdom of mr. warwick's selection was speedily proved. men of position and influence in the world, who had been mr. crampton's friends at college; others, a little younger, to whom he had been tutor; and the neighbouring gentry, when they found they had resident among them one who was not merely a scholar and a man of parts, but by birth and breeding one of themselves,--sent their sons to the fairfax school, and received mr. and mrs. crampton with all politeness and attention.
by the time that robert meredith arrived at lowebarre the school was thoroughly well known; its scholars numbered nearly two hundred; its "speech-days" were attended, as the local journals happily expressed it, "by lords spiritual and temporal, the dignitaries of the bar, the bench, and the senate, and the flower of the aristocracy;" while, source of mr. crampton's greatest pride, there stood on either side of the gothic window in the great school-hall, on a chocolate ground, in gold letters, a list of the exhibitioners of the school, and of the honours gained by fairfaxians, at the two universities.
to a boy brought up amidst the incongruities of colonial life the order and regularity of the fairfax school possessed all the elements of bewildering novelty. but with his habitual quietude and secret observation robert meredith set himself to work to acquire an insight into the characters both of his masters and his school-fellows, and determined, according to his wont, to turn the result of his studies to his own benefit.
the forty boys provided for by the beneficence of good old sir anthony fairfax--"foundation-boys," as they were called--were now, of course, in a considerable minority in the school. they were for the most part sons of residents in the immediate neighbourhood; but for the benefit of those young gentlemen who came from afar, the head master received boarders at his own house, and at another under his immediate control, while certain of the under masters enjoyed similar privileges.
the number of young gentlemen received under mr. crampton's own roof was rigidly limited to three; for mrs. crampton was a nervous little woman, who shrunk from the sound of cantering bluchers, and whose housekeeping talent was not of an extensive order. the triumvirate paid highly, more highly than james dugdale thought necessary; and hayes meredith was of his opinion. the boy would have to rough it in after life, he said,--"roughing it" was a traditional idea with him,--and it would be useless to bring the lad up on velvet. so that robert found his quarters in mr. crampton's second boarding-house, where forty or fifty lads, all the sons of gentlemen of modern fortune, dwelt in more or less harmony out of school-hours, and were presided over by mr. boldero, the mathematical master.
on his first entry into this herd of boys, robert meredith felt that he could scarcely congratulate himself on his lines having fallen in pleasant places. he had sufficient acuteness to foresee what the lively youths amongst whom he was about to dwell would reckon as his deficiencies, and consequently would select and enter upon at once to his immediate opprobrium. that he was colonial, and not english born, would be, he was aware, immediately resented with scorn by his companions, and regarded as a reason for overwhelming him with obloquy. it was, therefore, a fact to be kept most secret; but after the lapse of a few days it was inadvertently revealed by the "chum" to whom alone robert had mentioned the circumstance. when once known it afforded subject for the keenest sarcasm; "bushranger," "kangaroo," "ticket-of-leave," were among the choice epithets bestowed upon him.
it would not be either pleasant or profitable to linger over the story of robert meredith's school-days. they have no interest for us beyond this, that they developed his disposition, and insensibly influenced all his after life. he regarded his schoolmates with scorn as unbounded as it was studiously concealed, and he cultivated their unsuspecting good-will with a success which rendered him in a short time, in all points essential to his comfort, their master. he made rapid progress in his studies, and kept before his mind with steadiness which was certainly wonderful at his age--and, had it been induced by a more elevated actuating motive, would have been most admirable--the purpose with which he had come to england.
when the end of his schoolboy life drew near, and the much longed-for university career was about to begin, robert meredith took leave of mr. crampton with mutual assurances of good-will. if the conscientious and reverend gentleman had been closely questioned with regard to his sentiments concerning his clever colonial pupil, he must have acknowledged that he admired rather than liked him. but there was no one to dive into the secrets of his soul, and in the letter which mr. crampton addressed to mr. dugdale on the occasion, he gave him, with perfect truth, a highly favourable account of robert meredith, of which one sentence really contained the pith. "he is conspicuous for talent," wrote the reverend gentleman; "but i think even his abilities are less marked than his tact, in which he surpasses any young man whose character has come under my observation."
"so in argument, and so in life--tact is a great matter." behold the guiding spirit of robert meredith's career, even in its present fledgling days. it was tact that made him eschew anything that might look like "sapping," or rigidity of morals, as much as he eschewed dissipation and actual fast life while at college. it was tact that made his wine-parties, though the numbers invited were small, and the liquids by no means so expensive as those furnished by many of his acquaintances, the pleasantest in the university. it was tact that took him now and then into the hunting-field, that made him a constant attendant at bullingdon and cowley marsh, where his bowling and batting rendered him a welcome ally and a formidable opponent; and it was tact which allotted him just that amount of work necessary for a fair start in his future career.
robert meredith knew perfectly that in that future career at the bar the honours gained at college would have little weight--that the position to be gained would depend materially upon the talent and industry brought to bear upon the dry study of the law itself, upon the mastery of technical details; above all, upon the reading of that greatest of problems, the human heart, and the motives influencing it. to hold his own was all he aimed at while at college, and he did so; but some of his friends, who knew what really lay in him, were grievously disappointed when the lists were published, and it was found that robert meredith had only gained a double second. george ritherdon grieved openly, and refused to be comforted even by his own success, and by the acclamations which rang round the steady reading set of bodhamites when it was known that george ritherdon's name stood at the head of the first class.
the two friends were not to be separated--that was ritherdon's greatest consolation. mr. plowden, the great conveyancer of the middle temple, had made arrangements to receive both of them to read with him; and in the very dingy chambers occupied by that great professor of the law they speedily found themselves installed. a man overgrown with legal rust, and prematurely drowsy with a lifelong residence within the "dusty purlieus of the law," was mr. plowden; but his name was well known, his fame was thoroughly established; many of his pupils were leading men at the bar; and the dry tomes which bore his name as author were recognised text-books of the profession.
moreover, james dugdale had heard, from certain old college chums, that underneath mr. plowden's legal crust there was to be found a keen knowledge of human nature, and a certain power of will, which, properly exercised, would be of the greatest assistance in moulding and forming such a character as robert meredith's. it was, therefore, with a comfortable sense of duty done that james dugdale saw the young man established in mr. plowden's chambers, and, from all he had heard, he was by no means sorry that robert was to have george ritherdon as his companion.
there are certain persons who seem to be specially designed and cut out by nature for prosperity, and with whom, on the whole, it does not seem to disagree. they bear the test well, they are not arrogant, insolent, or apparently unfeeling, and they make more friends than enemies. such people find many true believers in them, to surround them with a sincere and heartfelt worship, to regard all their good fortune as their indisputable right, and resent any cross, crook, or turning in it as an injustice on the part of providence, or "some one." we all know one person at least of this class, for whose "luck" it is difficult to account, except as "luck," and of whom no one has anything unfavourable to say, or the disposition to say it.
robert meredith was one of this favoured class of persons. he had the good fortune to possess certain external gifts which go far towards making a man popular, and under which it is always difficult, especially to women, to believe that a cold heart is concealed. the handsome lad had grown up into a handsomer man, and one chiefly remarkable for his easy and graceful manners, which harmonised with an elegant figure and a voice which had a very deceptive depth, sweetness, and impressiveness of intonation about it.
the ardent admirer, the unswerving true believer in meredith's case was, as we have seen, george ritherdon; and it would have been curious and interesting to investigate the extent and importance of the influence of this early contracted and steadily maintained friendship on the lives of both men, and on the estimation in which meredith was held by the world outside that companionship.
he would have been very loth to believe that any particle of his importance, a shade of warmth in the manner of his welcome anywhere, an impulse of confidence in his ability, leading to his being employed in cases above his apparent mark and standing, were the result of an unexpressed belief in george ritherdon, a tacit but very general respect and admiration for the earnest, honest, irreproachable integrity of the man, who was clever, indeed, as well as good, but so much more exceptionally good than exceptionally clever, that the latter quality was almost overlooked by his friends, who were numerous and influential. wherever george's influence could reach, wherever his efforts could be made available, meredith's interests were safe, meredith's ambition was aided.
naturally of a frank and communicative disposition, liking sympathy and the expression of it, fond of his home and his family, and ever ready to be actively interested in all that concerned them, there was not an incident in his history, direct or indirect, with which he would not have made his "chum" acquainted on the least hint of the "chum's" desiring to know it; and, in fact, robert meredith, who had too much tact to permit his friend to perceive that his communicativeness occasionally bored him, was in thorough possession of his friend's history past and present.
but this was not reciprocal, except in a very superficial scale. robert meredith was perhaps not intentionally reticent with george ritherdon, and it occurred very seldom to the latter to think his friend reticent at all, but he was habitually cautious. the same quality which had made him a taciturn observer in the house at chayleigh, able to conceal his dislike of mr. baldwin, and to appreciate thoroughly without appearing to observe the tie which bound james dugdale to his old friend's daughter, now in his manhood enabled him to win the regard of others, and to learn all about them, without letting them either find out much about him, or offending them, or inspiring them with distrust by cold and calculated reserve.
as a matter of fact, george ritherdon knew very much less of his friend than his friend knew of him, and of one portion of his life he was in absolute ignorance. it was that which included his residence at chayleigh, and his subsequent relations with the families of carteret and baldwin. george had heard the names in casual mention, and he knew that when meredith went for a fortnight or so to scotland in the "long" he went to a place called the deane, where a retired officer of artillery, named haldane carteret, lived, who kept a very good house, and gave "men" some very capital shooting.
but george did not shoot; and had he been devoted to that manly pursuit, he would never have thought it in the least unkind or negligent in meredith to have omitted to share his opportunities in that way with him; he would never have thought about it at all indeed; so the deane was quite unknown territory, even speculatively, to this good fellow. he knew nothing of the young heiress and her sister. no stray photograph or missish letter, left about in the careless disarray of bachelor's chambers, had ever excited george's curiosity, or led to "chaff" on his part upon meredith's predilection for travelling north, whenever he could spare the time to travel at all, upon his indifference to "the palms and temples of the south." george was not an adept in the polite modern art of "chaff," and few men could have been found to offer less occasion for its exercise than robert meredith.
it had sometimes occurred to george to wonder why a man so popular with women, so "rising" as robert meredith, a man who had undoubtedly, in default of some untoward accident, a brilliant professional career and all its concomitant social advantages before him, had not married; but this was a matter on which he would not have considered that even their close friendship would have justified him in putting any questions to meredith.
the _tu quoque_ which might have been meredith's reply was of easy explanation. george ritherdon had had a disappointment in his youth, and had never thought seriously about marriage since. the disappointment had taken place in his early imprudent days, when no connection, even distantly collateral, existed in his mind between money and marriage, and he had long since arrived at the conviction that, even if it did come into his head or heart to fall in love again, he could not afford to marry, and therefore must, acting upon the gentlemanly precepts which had always governed him, resist any such inclination as dishonourable to himself and ungenerous towards its object.
the world had "marched" to a very quick step indeed since the days of george's almost boyhood, when the beautiful but penniless camilla jackson had fascinated him "into fits" at a carpet dance in the neighbourhood of his father's house, and he had forthwith set to work, in the fervent realms of his imagination, to fit up, furnish, and start a most desirable and charming little establishment, to be presided over by that young lady in the delightful capacity of wife. of course the beautiful camilla was always to be attired in the choicest french millinery and the clearest white muslins. laundresses' bills had no place, nor had those of the _modiste_, in the unsophisticated imagination of the young man, and breakages were as far from his thoughts as babies.
george had lived and learned since then, and he dreamed no more dreams now; he knew better. unless some tremendous, wholly unexpected, and extravagantly-unlikely piece of good luck should come in his way--something about as probable as the adventures of sindbad or prince camaralzaman, in which case he would immediately look about for an eligible young lady to take the larger share of it off his unaccustomed hands--george would now never marry.
camilla had disdained the white muslin and the millinery regardless of the washing bill, of which indeed she had early been taught by an exemplary and fearfully managing mother to be ceaselessly reminiscent; and george not unfrequently saw her now in a carriage, the mere varnish whereof told of wealth of perfectly aggressive amount, in a carriage crammed with healthy, clean, rich-looking children, and gorgeously arrayed in velvets and furs of great price.
that meredith was not a marrying man was the conclusion at which george ritherdon arrived, when he discussed with himself the oddity of the coincidence which threw them together, and speculated upon how long the engagement would last.
in one respect the friends were very differently circumstanced. george ritherdon had "no end" of relations, cousins by the score, aunts and uncles in liberal proportions. but robert meredith was a lonely man. his colonial origin explained that. he had never sought to renew any of the ties of family connection broken by his father when he left england; he had found friends steady and serviceable, and he wisely preferred contenting himself with them to cultivating dubiously disposed relatives. boy though he was, he made a correct hit in this.
"if they were likely to be any use to me, my father would have put me in some kind of communication with them; he certainly would have looked them up when he came home, which he never did."
therefore robert never troubled himself more about any of the family connections on this side of the world, and, indeed, troubled himself very little about those on the other. as time went by he was accustomed to say to himself that he knew they were all getting on well, and that was enough for him. sometimes he wondered whether he should ever see them again; whether, if he did not "see his way" here, he might not go in for colonial practice; whether one or more of his brothers, children when he saw them last, might not take the same fancy which he had taken for seeing the old world. but nothing of all this happened.
robert meredith had neared the end of his college career when intelligence of his father's death reached him, and caused him genuine, if temporary, suffering. his thoughts went back then to the old home and the old times, and he did feel for a time a disinterested wish that he had been with his mother--how she had loved him, how she loved him still, through all those years of separation!--when this calamity came upon her. the necessity for a large correspondence with his brothers, and the feeling, always a terrible one in cases where a long distance lies between persons affected by the same event, that his father's death had taken place while he was quite unconscious of it, and was already long past when he heard of it, touched chords dulled if not silenced.
the account which he received of family affairs was prosperous: one of his sisters was already married, the other would follow her example after a due and decorous lapse of time. his brothers were to carry on hayes meredith's business, in whose profits his father left him a small share. altogether, apart from feeling--and it was unusual for robert meredith to find it difficult to keep any matter of consideration apart from feeling--the position of affairs was eminently satisfactory, and the young man, ambitious, industrious, and self-reliant, felt that he and his were well treated by fate.
he felt the blank which his father's death created a good deal. he had corresponded with him very regularly, and the freshness and vigour, the plain practical sense and shrewdness of the older man's mind had been pleasant and useful to the younger. he had not expected the event, either. hayes meredith was a strong, hale, athletic man, and his son had always thought of him as he had last seen him. no bad accounts of his health had ever reached robert, and he had never thought of his father's death as a probable occurrence.
on the whole, this was the most remarkable event, and by many degrees the most impressive, which had befallen in meredith's life, and its influence upon him was decidedly injurious. he had always been hard, and from that time he became harder--not in appearance, nothing was more characteristic of the young man than his easy and sympathetic manner, but in reality he felt more solitary now that the one bond of intellectual companionship between him and his home was broken, and this solitude was not good for him. as for his mother, he was apt to think of her as a very good woman in her way--an excellent woman indeed. a man must be much worse than robert meredith before he ceases to believe this of his own mother; but she knew nothing whatever of the world--of the old world particularly--and could not be made to understand it. he wrote to her--he never neglected doing so; but there was more expression than truth of feeling in his letters, and the mail-day was not a pleasant epoch.
