# Orley Farm (Serial)/Chapter 23

CHAPTER XXIII.
CHRISTMAS AT GROBY PARK.
Christmas-day was always a time of very great trial to Mrs. Mason of Groby Park. It behoved her, as the wife of an old English country gentleman, to spread her board plenteously at that season, and in some sort to make an open house of it. But she could not bring herself to spread any board with plenty, and the idea of an open house would almost break her heart. Unlimited eating! There was something in the very sounds of such words which was appalling to the inner woman.
And on this Christmas-day she was doomed to go through an ordeal of very peculiar severity. It so happened that the cure of souls in the parish of Groby had been intrusted for the last two or three years to a young, energetic, but not very opulent curate. Why the rector of Groby should be altogether absent, leaving the work in the hands of a curate, whom he paid by the lease of a cottage and garden and fifty-five pounds a year,—thereby behaving as he imagined with extensive liberality,—it is unnecessary here to inquire. Such was the case, and the Rev. Adolphus Green, with Mrs. A. Green and the four children, managed to live with some difficulty on the produce of the garden and the allotted stipend; put could not probably have lived at all in that position had not Mrs. Adolphus Green been blessed with some small fortune.
It had so happened that Mrs. Adolphus Green had been instrumental in imparting some knowledge of singing to two of the Miss ​Masons, and had continued her instructions over the last three years. This had not been done in any preconcerted way, but the lessons had grown by chance. Mrs. Mason the while had looked on with a satisfied eye at an arrangement that was so much to her taste.
'There are no regular lessons you know,' she had said to her husband, when he suggested that some reward for so much work would be expedient. 'Mrs. Green finds it convenient to have the use of my drawing-room, and would never see an instrument from year's end to year's end if she were not allowed to come up here. Depend upon it she gets a great deal more than she gives.'
But after two years' of tuition Mr. Mason had spoken a second time. 'My dear,' he said, 'I cannot allow the girls to accept so great a favour from Mrs. Green without making her some compensation.'
'I don't see that it is at all necessary,' Mrs. Mason had answered; 'but if you think so, we could send her down a hamper of apples,—that is, a basketful.' Now it happened that apples were very plentiful that year, and that the curate and his wife were blessed with as many as they could judiciously consume.
'Apples! nonsense!' said Mr. Mason.
'If you mean money, my dear, I couldn't do it. I wouldn't so offend a lady for all the world.'
'You could buy them something handsome, in the way of furniture. That little room of theirs that they call the drawing-room has nothing in it at all. Get Jones from Leeds to send them some things that will do for them.' And hence, after many inner misgivings, had arisen that purchase of a drawing-room set from Mr. Kantwise,—that set of metallic 'Louey Catorse furniture,' containing three tables, eight chairs, &c. &c., as to which it may be remembered that Mrs. Mason made such an undoubted bargain, getting them for less than cost price. That they had been 'strained,' as Mr. Kantwise himself admitted in discoursing on the subject to Mr. Dockwrath, was not matter of much moment. They would do extremely well for a curate's wife.
And now on this Christmas-day the present was to be made over to the happy lady. Mr. and Mrs. Green were to dine at Groby Park,—leaving their more fortunate children to the fuller festivities of the cottage; and the intention was that before dinner the whole drawing-room set should be made over. It was with grievous pangs of heart that Mrs. Mason looked forward to such an operation. Her own house was plenteously furnished from the kitchens to the attics, but still she would have loved to keep that metallic set of painted trumpery. She knew that the table would not screw on; she knew that the pivot of the music stool was bent; she knew that there was no place in the house in which they could stand; she must have known that in no possible way could they be of use ​to her or hers,—and yet she could not part with them without an agony. Her husband was infatuated in this matter of compensation for the use of Mrs. Green's idle hours; no compensation could be necessary;—and then she paid another visit to the metallic furniture. She knew in her heart of hearts that they could never be of use to anybody, and yet she made up her mind to keep back two out of the eight chairs. Six chairs would be quite enough for Mrs. Green's small room.
'As there was to be feasting at five, real roast beef, plum-pudding and mince-pies;—'Mince-pies and plum-pudding together are vulgar, my dear,' Mrs. Mason had said to her husband; but in spite of the vulgarity he had insisted;—the breakfast was of course scanty. Mr. Mason liked a slice of cold meat in the morning, or the leg of a fowl, or a couple of fresh eggs as well as any man; but the matter was not worth a continual fight. 'As we are to dine an hour earlier to-day I did not think you would eat meat,' his wife said to him. 'Then there would be less expense in putting it on the table,' he had answered; and after that there was nothing more said about it. He always put off till some future day that great contest which he intended to wage and to win, and by which he hoped to bring it about that plenty should henceforward be the law of the land at Groby Park. And then they all went to church. Mrs. Mason would not on any account have missed church on Christmas-day or a Sunday. It was a cheap duty, and therefore rigidly performed. As she walked from her carriage up to the church-door she encountered Mrs. Green, and smiled sweetly as she wished that lady all the compliments of the season.
'We shall see you immediately after church,' said Mrs. Mason.
'Oh yes, certainly,' said Mrs. Green.
'And Mr. Green with you?'
'He intends to do himself the pleasure,' said the curate's wife.
'Mind he comes, because we have a little ceremony to go through before we sit down to dinner;' and Mrs. Mason smiled again ever so graciously. Did she think, or did she not think, that she was going to do a kindness to her neighbour? Most women would have sunk into their shoes as the hour grew nigh at which they were to show themselves guilty of so much meanness.
She stayed for the sacrament, and it may here be remarked that on that afternoon she rated both the footman and housemaid because they omitted to do so. She thought, we must presume, that she was doing her duty, and must imagine her to have been ignorant that she was cheating her husband and cheating her friend. She took the sacrament with admirable propriety of demeanour, and then on her return home, withdrew another chair from the set. There would still be six, including the rocking chair, and six would be quite enough for that little hole of a room.
​There was a large chamber up stairs at Groby Park which had been used for the children's lessons, but which now was generally deserted. There was in it an old worn-out pianoforte,—and though Mrs. Mason had talked somewhat grandly of the use of her drawing-room, it was here that the singing had been taught. Into this room the metallic furniture had been brought, and up to that Christmas morning it had remained here packed in its original boxes. Hither immediately after breakfast Mrs. Mason had taken herself, and had spent an hour in her efforts to set the things forth to view. Two of the chairs she then put aside into a cupboard, and a third she added to her private store on her return to her work after church.
But, alas, alas! let her do what she would, she could not get the top on to the table. 'It's all smashed, ma'am,' said the girl whom she at last summoned to her aid. 'Nonsense, you simpleton; how can it be smashed when it's new,' said the mistress. And then she tried again, and again, declaring as she did so, that she would have the law of the rogue who had sold her a damaged article. Nevertheless she had known that it was damaged, and had bought it cheap on that account, insisting in very urgent language that the table was in fact worth nothing because of its injuries.
At about four Mr. and Mrs. Green walked up to the house and were shown into the drawing-room. Here was Mrs. Mason supported by Penelope and Creusa. As Diana was not musical, and therefore under no compliment to Mrs. Green, she kept out of the way. Mr. Mason also was absent. He knew that something very mean was about to be done, and would not show his face till it was over. He ought to have taken the matter in hand himself, and would have done so had not his mind been full of other things. He himself was a man terribly wronged and wickedly injured, and could not therefore in these present months interfere much in the active doing of kindnesses. His hours were spent in thinking how he might best obtain justice,—how he might secure his pound of flesh. He only wanted his own, but that he would have;—his own, with due punishment on those who had for so many years robbed him of it. He therefore did not attend at the presentation of the furniture.
'And now we'll go up stairs, if you please,' said Mrs. Mason, with that gracious smile for which she was so famous. 'Mr. Green, you must come too. Dear Mrs. Green has been so very kind to my two girls; and now I have got a few articles,—they are of the very newest fashion, and I do hope that Mrs. Green will like them.' And so they all went up into the schoolroom.
'There's a new fashion come up lately,' said Mrs. Mason as she walked along the corridor, 'quite new:—of metallic furniture. I don't know whether you have seen any.' Mrs. Green said she had not seen any as yet.
​'The Patent Steel Furniture Company makes it, and it has got very greatly into vogue for small rooms. I thought that perhaps you would allow me to present you with a set for your drawing-room.'
'I'm sure it is very kind of you to think of it,' said Mrs. Green.
'Uncommonly so,' said Mr. Green. But both Mr. Green and Mrs. Green knew the lady, and their hopes did not run high.
And then the door was opened and there stood the furniture to view. There stood the furniture, except the three subtracted chairs, and the loo table. The claw and leg of the table indeed were standing there, but the top was folded up and lying on the floor beside it. 'I hope you'll like the pattern,' began Mrs. Mason. 'I'm told that it is the prettiest that has yet been brought out. There has been some little accident about the screw of the table, but the smith in the village will put that to rights in five minutes. He lives so close to you that I didn't think it worth while to have him up here.'
'It's very nice,' said Mrs. Green, looking round her almost in dismay.
'Very nice indeed,' said Mr. Green, wondering in his mind for what purpose such utter trash could have been manufactured, and endeavouring to make up his mind as to what they might possibly do with it. Mr. Green knew what chairs and tables should be, and was well aware that the things before him were absolutely useless for any of the ordinary purposes of furniture.
'And they are the most convenient things in the world,' said Mrs. Mason, 'for when you are going to change house you pack them all up again in these boxes. Wooden furniture takes up so much room, and is so lumbersome.'
'Yes, it is,' said Mrs. Green.
'I'll have them all put up again and sent down in the cart tomorrow.'
'Thank you; that will be very kind,' said Mr. Green, and then the ceremony of the presentation was over. On the following day the boxes were sent down, and Mrs. Mason might have abstracted even another chair without detection, for the cases lay unheeded from month to month in the curate's still unfurnished room. 'The fact is they cannot afford a carpet,' Mrs. Mason afterwards said to one of her daughters, 'and with such things as those they are quite right to keep them up till they can be used with advantage. I always gave Mrs. Green credit for a good deal of prudence.'
And then, when the show was over, they descended again into the drawing-room,—Mr. Green and Mrs. Mason went first, and Creusa followed. Penelope was thus so far behind as to be able to speak to her friend without being heard by the others.
'You know mamma,' she said, with a shrug of her shoulders and a look of scorn in her eye.
​'The things are very nice.'
'No, they are not, and you know they are not. They are worthless; perfectly worthless.'
'But we don't want anything.'
'No; and if there had been no pretence of a gift it would all have been very well. What will Mr. Green think?'
'I rather think he likes iron chairs;' and then they were in the drawing-room.
Mr. Mason did not appear till dinner-time, and came in only just in time to give his arm to Mrs. Green. He had had letters to write,—a letter to Messrs. Round and Crook, very determined in its tone; and a letter also to Mr. Dockwrath, for the little attorney had so crept on in the affair that he was now corresponding with the principal. 'I'll teach those fellows in Bedford Row to know who I am,' he had said to himself more than once, sitting on his high stool at Hamworth.
And then came the Groby Park Christmas dinner. To speak the truth Mr. Mason had himself gone to the neighbouring butcher, and ordered the surloin of beef, knowing that it would be useless to trust to orders conveyed through his wife. He had seen the piece of meat put on one side for him, and had afterwards traced it on to the kitchen dresser. But nevertheless when it appeared at table it had been sadly mutilated. A stake had been cut off the full breadth of it—a monstrous cantle from out its fair proportions. The lady had seen the jovial, thick, ample size of the goodly joint, and her heart had been unable to spare it. She had made an effort and turned away, saying to herself that the responsibility was all with him. But it was of no use. There was that within her which could not do it. 'Your master will never be able to carve such a mountain of meat as that,' she had said, turning back to the cook. ''Deed, an' it's he that will, ma'am,' said the Irish mistress of the spit; for Irish cooks are cheaper than those bred and born in England. But nevertheless the thing was done, and it was by her own fair hands that the envious knife was used. 'I couldn't do it, ma'am,' the cook had said; 'I couldn't railly.'
Mr. Mason's face became very black when he saw the raid that had been effected, and when he looked up across the table his wife's eye was on him. She knew what she had to expect, and she knew also that it would not come now. Her eye stealthily looked at his, quivering with fear; for Mr. Mason could be savage enough in his anger. And what had she gained? One may as well ask what does the miser gain who hides away his gold in an old pot, or what does that other madman gain who is locked up for long long years because he fancies himself the grandmother of the Queen of England?
But there was still enough beef on the table for all of them ​to eat, and as Mrs. Mason was not intrusted with the carving of it, their plates were filled. As far as a sufficiency of beef can make a good dinner Mr. and Mrs. Green did have a good dinner on that Christmas-day. Beyond that their comfort was limited, for no one was in a humour for happy conversation.
And over and beyond the beef there was a plum-pudding and three mince-pies. Four mince-pies had originally graced the dish, but before dinner one had been conveyed away to some upstairs receptacle for such spoils. The pudding also was small, nor was it black and rich, and laden with good things as a Christmas pudding should be laden. Let us hope that what the guests so lost was made up to them on the following day, by an absence of those ill effects which sometimes attend upon the consumption of rich viands.
'And now, my dear, we'll have a bit of bread and cheese and a glass of beer,' Mr. Green said when he arrived at his own cottage. And so it was that Christmas-day was passed at Groby Park.
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