"The town's a golden, but a fatal, circle,
Upon whose magic skirts a thousand devils,
In crystal forms, sit tempting Innocence,
And beckoning Virtue from its centre."
The trusting, generous letter which Joris had written to his son-in-law
arrived a few days before Hyde's departure for London. With every decent
show of pleasure and gratitude, he said, "It is an unexpected piece of
good fortune, Katherine, and the interest of five thousand pounds will
keep Hyde Manor up in a fine style. As for the principal, we will leave
it at Secor's until it can be invested in land. What say you?"
Katherine was quite satisfied; for, though naturally careful of all put
under her own hands, she was at heart very far from being either selfish
or mercenary. In fact, the silver cup was at that hour of more real
interest to her. It would be a part of her old home in her new home. It
was connected with her life memories, and it made a portion of her
future hopes and dreams. There was also something more tangible about it
than about the bit of paper certifying to five thousand pounds in her
name at Secor's Bank.
But Hyde knew well the importance of Katherine's fortune. It enabled him
to face his relatives and friends on a very much better footing than he
had anticipated. He was quite aware, too, that the simple fact was all
that society needed. He expected to hear in a few days that the five
thousand pounds had become fifty thousand pounds; for he knew that
rumour, when on the boast, would magnify any kind of gossip, favourable
or unfavourable. So he was no longer averse to meeting his former
companions: even to them, a rich wife would excuse matrimony. And,
besides, Hyde was one of those men who regard money in the bank as a
kind of good conscience: he really felt morally five thousand pounds the
better. Full of hope and happiness, he would have gone at a pace to suit
his mood; but English roads at that date were left very much to nature
and to weather, and the Norfolk clay in springtime was so deep and heavy
that it was not until the third day after leaving that he was able to
report for duty.
His first social visit was paid to his maternal grandmother, the dowager
Lady Capel. She was not a nice old woman; in fact, she was a very
spiteful, ill-hearted, ill-tempered old woman, and Hyde had always had a
certain fear of her. When he landed in London with his wife, Lady Capel
had fortunately been at Bath; and he had then escaped the duty of
presenting Katherine to her. But she was now at her mansion in Berkeley
Square, and her claims upon his attention could not be postponed; and,
as she had neither eyes nor ears in the evenings for any thing but loo
or whist, Hyde knew that a conciliatory visit would have to be made in
the early part of the day.