Chapter 10 | A Life's Eclipse

Chapter Ten.

“Wait and see, my lad, wait and see,” said James Ellis. “There, there: we’re in no hurry. You’ve only just got your appointment, and, as you know well enough, women are made of tender stuff. Very soft, Dan, my boy. Bless ’em, they’re very nice though. We grow in the open air; they grow under glass, as you may say. We’re outdoor plants; they’re indoor, and soft, and want care. Polly took a fancy to poor John Grange, and his misfortune made her worse. He became a sort of hero for her school-girl imagination, and if you were to worry her, and I was to come the stern father, and say, You must marry Dan Barnett, what would be the consequences? She’d mope and think herself persecuted, and be ready to do anything for his sake.”

Daniel Barnett sighed.

“There, don’t be a fool, man,” said Ellis, clapping him on the shoulder. “Have patience. My Pol— Mary is as dear and good a girl as ever stepped, and as dutiful. What we saw was all sentiment and emotion. She’s very young, and every day she’ll be growing wiser and more full of commonplace sense. Poor John Grange has gone.”

“But he has come back, and is staying with old Tummus.”

“Yes, yes, I know, but only for a few days, till Mrs Mostyn has settled something about him. She’s a dear, good mistress, Dan, and I’d do anything for her. She consulted me about it only the other day. She wants to get him into some institution; and if she can’t she’ll pension him off somewhere. I think he’ll go to some relatives of his out Lancashire way. But, anyhow, John Grange is as good as dead, so far as your career is concerned. You’ve got the post he was certain to have had, for the mistress was very fond of John.”

“Yes; he’d got the length of her foot, and no mistake, sir.”

“Well, well, you can do the same. She loves her flowers, and poor John was for his age as fine a florist as ever lived. She saw that, and of course it pleased her. All you have to do is to pet her orchids, and make the glass-houses spick and span, keep the roses blooming, and—there, I needn’t preach to you, Daniel, my lad; you’re as good a gardener as poor John Grange, and your bread is buttered on both sides for life.”

“Not quite, sir,” cried the young man quietly.

“All right; I know what you mean.”

“Then you consent, sir?”

“Oh, no, I don’t. I only say to you, wait and see. I’m not going to promise anything, and I’m not going to have my comfortable home made miserable by seeing wife and child glum and ready to burst out crying. I’m not going to force that tender plant, Dan. Mary’s a sensible girl, and give her time and she’ll see that it is impossible for her to spend her life playing stick, or little dog, to a blind man. She shall see that her father wishes what is best for her, and in the end the pretty little fruit, which is only green now, will become ripe, and drop into some worthy young fellow’s hands. If his name is Daniel Barnett, well and good. We shall see. All I want is to see my pet go to a good home and be happy.”

Daniel Barnett held out his hand.

“No, no; I’m going to clinch no bargains, and I’m not going to be bothered about this any more. Your policy is to wait. The seed’s sown. I dare say it will come up some day. Now then, business. About Maitland Williams?”

“Well, Mr Ellis, you know him as well as I do. Admiral Morgan can’t give him a rise because the other men are all right, and he wants to be a step higher, and be all under glass. He has spoken to me twice. He says he wouldn’t have done so, only poor John Grange was of course out of it, and he didn’t think that we had any one who could be promoted.”

“That’s quite right. He has been to me three times, and I don’t see that we could do better. Think you could get on with him?”

“Oh, yes, he’s all right, sir.”

“Very well, then; I’m going up to the house to see the mistress about the hay. Nixon wants to buy it again this year.”

“And take all the mowing off our hands, sir?”

“Yes, I suppose you would rather not spare the men to make it ourselves.”

“Well, sir, you know the season as well as I do. There’s no end of things asking to be done.”

“Yes, I shall advise her to let it go, and I’ll ask her to sanction Williams being taken on. He says he can come and fill poor Grange’s place at once.”

They parted, Daniel Barnett to go and begin tying up some loose strands in the vinery, and trim out some side-growth which interfered with the ripening of the figs; James Ellis to walk up to the house and ask to see Mrs Mostyn, who sent out word by the butler that she would be in the library in a few minutes.