A Civil Contract

He gave a shout of laughter; and later, when Mr Chawleigh anxiously asked him if he had persuaded Jenny to behave like a sensible woman, replied promptly: “Yes, indeed: like a woman of most superior understanding! I had only to hint that she might present me with a daughter to make her perceive instantly the wisdom of putting herself in the hands of an experienced accoucheur!”

“Now, Adam — !” protested Jenny.

“Yes, but it’s not a bit of good thinking that he can do anything about that,” Mr Chawleigh pointed out.

“Good God! And you said he was top-of-the-trees!”

“I didn’t say he was a magician! Yes, I know you’re laughing at me, my lord, but it won’t do for you to go putting a silly notion hike that into Jenny’s head. Oh, so now you’re in whoops, are you, my girl? Well,” said Mr Chawleigh, regarding his hosts indulgently, “I was always one for a good laugh myself, so I don’t grudge it you.”

When he discovered that the Lyntons had no intention of removing to London until the end of October, he was by no means pleased; but, happily for the peace of the establishment, he was diverted by an accident to the pulley-wheel used in the ice-house. Anything savouring of mechanism immediately claimed his interest, and the rest of his short stay was spent very agreeably by him in overseeing the necessary repair, and devising a rather better arrangement of the sloping door in the passage above the vault.

Chapter XIX

The Lyntons returned to London at the end of October, in weeping weather. She was putting a good face on it, but it was Jenny who most regretted leaving Fontley. Adam had left his affairs there in as promising a train as his circumstances permitted, and had meant, in any event, to have gone to London for a time in November, when Parliament reassembled. He was looking forward also to seeing his friends again, for although the 52nd Regiment had been in England since the end of July he had as yet met only three of his particular cronies, who had visited Fontley on short furlough! These visits had been much more successful than Mr Chawleigh’s. Far from disliking the situation of Fontley, or cavilling at the Priory’s many inconveniences, the guests declared it to be the jolliest place imaginable. They enjoyed some excellent partridge shooting; they were extremely well-fed; and their hostess did not expect them to do the pretty. She ministered to their “creature comfort”, and was apparently pleased if they spent a whole evening in the exchange of Peninsular memories instead of making polite conversation to her. They thought her a capital woman, Captain Langton going so far as to say, with a disarming grin: “It’s a great shame Dev sold out, Lady Lynton! You’d have made a famous wife for a soldier, for nothing ever puts you out! No matter how late he returned to his quarters I’ll swear you’d have had a first-rate dinner waiting for him!”

Mr Chawleigh was not present to welcome the Lyntons when they arrived in Grosvenor Street, but he had called there earlier in the day, with a carriage-load of flowers and fruit.. Adam could accept such minor tokens of his generosity with equanimity, but it was with tightening lips that he read the note Mr Chawleigh had left for him. Mr Chawleigh had taken it upon himself to request Dr Croft to call at Lynton House on the following day. Adam handed this missive to Jenny without a word. She was so indignant that his own vexation abated, and instead of telling her that he would thank her father to leave him to manage the affairs of his household he found himself excusing that worthy’s officiousness, and saying instead that she must not be too provoked, since it sprang only from concern for her welfare.

She was not at all appeased, but said: “Adam! You’ll be pleased to tell Dr Croft that I’ve changed my mind — don’t wish to see him!. And I will tell Papa that I’ll choose my own doctor, or let you do so!”

“That would teach him a lesson,” he agreed. “It would relieve our spleens too, I daresay. The only rub is that we might — when we were cooler — feel a trifle foolish! After all, it was to consult Croft that we came to town, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, but — ”

“My love,” he said, smiling, “if ever I enter upon an engagement with your father I’ll take care to choose my ground! I don’t like this position at all — and I don’t like Pyrrhic victories either! I should win nothing but your father’s resentment, and an inferior doctor to attend you. I think we’ll admit Croft.”

“Oh, very well!” she said crossly. “But I’m persuaded I shall dislike him excessively!”

In the event, neither of them was drawn to Dr Croft. He was so pompous as to appear opinionated, and he managed to convey the impression that any lady acquiring his services might think herself fortunate. However, his practice was known to be large, and if his manners were too assertive to be generally pleasing he spoke with an authority which engendered confidence in his patients. He was not surprised to learn that Jenny was in poor health, and he did not hesitate to tell her the cause. She was too full-blooded, and too high in flesh: he would prescribe a reducing diet for her, and bleed her once or twice. He explained just how this would benefit her constitution, recounted a few quelling anecdotes relating to ladies of Jenny’s habit to whom he had been summoned too late to remedy the harm done by over-eating, and took his leave, promising to visit Jenny again a week later.

She accepted his pronouncement more readily than Adam, saying in a resigned voice that she knew she was too fat. He was doubtful, knowing that she had a hearty appetite; and when he found her lunching on tea and bread-and-butter he protested. “Jenny, this can’t be right! You are always as hungry as a hawk by noon!”

She shook her head. “I’m not now. I’ve felt queasy from the start, not fancying my food, and sometimes downright nauseated by the very sight of it, but I’m bound to own I’m better in that respect since I adopted this diet. Now, my dear, just you let the doctor know best, and forget about it!”

He said no more, conscious of his own ignorance; and she, fearful that she might resemble her mother too closely, adhered to her depressing regimen, and tried not to let Adam see that she was in low spirits.

For these, London was more to blame than Dr Croft. The weather was dull, with a good many rainy days, and some foggy ones. Jenny began to hate the gray streets, and could not look out of her windows without wishing herself back at Fontley, or put on her hat, her furred pelisse, and her kid gloves without longing to be able to step out of the house into her own gardens, with none of these elaborate preparations for taking the air. She tried to confide these yearnings to Mr Chawleigh, when he rallied her on being what he called mumpish, but as he could not understand how anyone could hanker after the country he thought she was being fanciful, and ascribed it to her condition. Nor could he understand that the chief cause of her drooping spirits was boredom. Had she complained that she was bored at Fontley it would have been another matter, for as far as he could see there was nothing for her to do there. In London there were endless amusements, such as shops, and theatres, and concerts. He said kindly: “You don’t want to give way to crotchets, love. Not but what it’s natural you should get all manner of odd notions into your head just now. Well do I remember your poor ma before you were born! Nothing would do for her but to eat dressed crabs, which wasn’t a dish she was at all partial to, not in the ordinary way. Well, if I hadn’t put my foot down it’s my belief you’d have been born with claws, and that’s a fact!” He laughed at this recollection, but finding that his joke drew only a slight smile from Jenny said persuasively: “Now, you know it’s all fudge, love! You wasn’t bored when you had only me to keep house for, so why should you be bored now, when you’ve got a husband, and a baby corning and a fine house of your own, and everything you could wish for — ”

The thought flashed into her mind that before her marriage she had accepted boredom as the inescapable lot of women, but she said nothing, because she loved him too well to hurt him.

But Jenny owed more to her mother’s ancestry than Mr Chawleigh knew, or than she herself had known until Adam had taken her to Rushleigh. She had thought then how much she would enjoy living in a country house of her own, and she had enjoyed it. She took a keen interest in all Adam’s schemes for the improvement of his estate; and she had formed a number of schemes of her own for restoring the Priory to its former state. She was practical; and she was a born housewife. Fontley offered her endless scope for her talents; she had looked forward to a winter crammed with employment. The Dowager had left all household matters in the hands of her servants; but Jenny had found a manuscript book in the library which Adam said had been his grandmother’s; and its pages revealed that that long-dead Lady Lynton had not disdained to interest herself in such homely matters as How to Make a Marmalade of Oranges, and A Better Way to Pickle Beef. She had