The sudden and painful event recorded at the close of the last chapter, presented a momentary interruption to the negotiations with Mr. Martindale on the subject of the living of Trimmerstone. The Dowager Lady Martindale would not use any importunities on the business; and as for the young man himself for whom the living was supposed to be destined, Mr. Robert Martindale, he was too indifferent to the profession to have any wishes or to feel any interest about it. Poor Mr. Henderson was not as yet aware that any such expectations might be entertained by him. Hearing of the death of Lord Martindale, he designed to pay a visit of condolence to his lordship's relative; but he was too diffident to be very hasty in that visit, leaving early calls to those who were more in the intimacy of Mr. Martindale. But there was not quite so much consideration on the part of those who were interested in the disposal of the living: they were prompt in their application, and more importunate in their solicitations. Among other visitors in the way of condolence to Mr. John Martindale was Sir Gilbert Sampson. From the marriage of his daughter into the Martindale family he felt some right to claim kindred with him, and we must do Mr. John Martindale the justice to say that he did not disallow that claim. He always had behaved with familiarity and cordiality towards the city knight.

When Sir Gilbert Sampson was announced, he was readily admitted and well received; and, after a few half-formed sentences and muttering clumsinesses about the recent melancholy event, the knight proceeded to business. It was with no small share of diplomatic pomp that the worthy knight gravely informed Mr. Martindale of his having been that very morning honored with a call from a certain nobleman high in office and powerful in influence. Mr. Martindale received the information with a cynical attempt at indifference, but he was not really and soundly proof against the fascinations of high rank and mighty consideration. After, therefore, a very few, and those but faint sneers, he condescended to ask what might be the business on which this high and mighty potentate had designed to call upon Sir Gilbert Sampson. Now Mr. Martindale guessed the business to be about the living of Trimmerstone; but though he did so guess, and though he was sure that he had guessed rightly, and though he had made up his mind that nothing should induce him to give the living otherwise than he had designed, that is, to Mr. Henderson, yet he was not unwilling to hear what the great man had said to Sir Gilbert. Poor Mr. Martindale was but half a cynic; he had not quite so thorough a contempt for the world as he endeavoured to affect. He listened very attentively, therefore, to Sir Gilbert when he related the visit of the morning, and the conversation which he had had with the great man.

Sir Gilbert related as well as he could the conversation, which all turned upon the vacant living. The sum and substance of the whole matter was this: the great man had expressed a great wish to obtain the next presentation to Trimmerstone to oblige a very valued friend of his own, and a stanch supporter of loyal principles. This happened some few years ago, when loyalty was a more marketable article than it is now; for since radical meetings have ceased to be common, loyalty is become quite a drug, and fetches nothing. But to proceed to, or rather with, business: the great man made such an object of obtaining this living, that he had said, or at least intimated, or hinted, that the Martindale family might be very much aggrandised in the way of honor by its surrender. In short, to come directly to the point, the message with which Sir Gilbert was charged amounted to nothing more nor less than this, namely, that if Mr. John Martindale would comply with the solicitation of the great man, and give to his friend or nominee the living, then Philip, now only Lord or Baron Martindale, would be forthwith created Viscount Martindale and Earl of Trimmerstone. There was a temptation.

John Martindale heard all this unmoved, but he could not reflect upon it unshaken. It was a serious matter to have an individual related so nearly to himself advanced thus high in the peerage. It would certainly be a fine thing to have an earl under his thumb, and so to possess as it were a vote in the House of Lords. But then what is to become of poor Mr. Henderson?

"Have you actually promised Mr. Henderson?" exclaimed Sir Gilbert Sampson; "for if so, you are placed in an awkward situation; but still I think it may be managed."

"Why, no," replied Mr. Martindale, "I have not actually promised him, but still it was my full intention to give him the living; and it is not many days ago since I made such inquiries of him, and used such language to him, as nothing could justify but the intention of doing something for him, and there is nothing else that I can do for him. I am sure a more loyal man cannot exist than poor Henderson."

"Very likely; but then one must sometimes, for the sake of one's own family, do things which otherwise we might not like. As for poor Henderson, I know him well; I have often dined with him; he is a contented, diligent sort of a man, and a very sensible man. He taught my daughter geography; he makes a very good living by giving instructions in private families. He might, to be sure, be glad of a living, but still he has managed so long to do very well without; and then people in office have so many hangers-on whom they must by some means or other get rid of, that I do not wonder that they are rather anxious about these matters. Now I will candidly acknowledge to you, that though I am highly honored by my daughter's marrying into the Martindale family and becoming at all events a peeress, yet I must say that I should be very proud to see her a countess. I know it is a weakness. I acknowledge it as such; but still I must say it would be gratifying to me. And really to say the truth, Mr. Martindale, I don't think it would be altogether displeasing to you to have your young relative called Earl of Trimmerstone."

Whatever Mr. Martindale's notions on that subject might be, he did not like to avow them to Sir Gilbert Sampson. He merely shook his head, and looked as wise as Lord Burleigh in the Critic. People may, if they please, be very witty about a man's shaking his head, and say that there is nothing in it, but we contend that there is a great deal in it: for nothing comes out of it on being shaken; and therefore it retains its own counsel, which may be hereafter interpreted according to circumstances: just as the facetious authors of the Rejected Addresses represent Mr. Cobbett as saying, "I prophesied so, though I never told anybody." Exactly so may the wise Burleigh-like man who on great affairs and momentous occasions only shakes his head, afterwards interpret that shake as may best suit his inclinations, and claim a reputation for wisdom which might not be his had he merely uttered his thoughts through the common-place medium of unequivocal and interpretable words. Instead therefore of saying that when a man shakes his head there is nothing in it, we ought more properly to say there is any thing or every thing in it. Be this as it may, Mr. John Martindale did shake his head when he heard the communication of Sir Gilbert Sampson.

Now as Sir Gilbert inferred from the shaking of the head, that Mr. Martindale was not quite so positive on the subject of the living as when the conversation began, and before there was any mention of the earldom, he thought it might not be undesirable to pursue the subject; and as money was not so great an object to Sir Gilbert as honor, he ventured to say in continuance:

"But, my good friend, are there no other means of rendering a service to Mr. Henderson than by giving him this very living. You say you have not promised him this very identical living, but that you have only given him hopes of something. Now suppose you give me leave to purchase this living of you, and you in return purchase a presentation for Mr. Henderson, or give him the means of purchasing one for himself."

"Oh, no, no, I can't think of doing him a service in this way. He would hardly accept of it under such circumstances; he is a man of too great delicacy to accept of a pecuniary present."

Sir Gilbert smiled, and replied, "Indeed, sir, I think you wrong Mr. Henderson in attributing to him such a degree of fastidiousness. He is too courteous a man rudely to decline what a patron may offer him. Indeed, I know that he has been much mocked by the promise of patronage; and I should not be surprised if the pecuniary patronage might not be most acceptable to him of any. He has a large family, and they are arrived at an expensive age. I certainly am of opinion that the arrangement I propose will be acceptable."

As the argument now led to prove that bestowing the living on the nominee of the great man might lead to a considerable advantage in favor of Mr. Henderson, old John Martindale began to relax from his rigidity of purpose, and to be happy that he might do two useful and beneficial acts at once. He might benefit Mr. Henderson and contribute to the advancement of his own relative at the same time. Then he hesitated, and said he did not know what to say about the matter. He thought that what Sir Gilbert Sampson said had some weight in it; and after a long harangue which meant nothing at all, he concluded by promising to take the matter into his most serious consideration.

Very few days after this interview with Sir Gilbert Sampson, the old gentleman received a letter from his cousin Philip, and another also from the bride. These letters were constructed so as to be peculiarly pleasing and flattering to Mr. Martindale; and he thought that it would be a great pity to lose a fine opportunity of advancing the young gentleman to the honor of an earldom. But still there remained on his mind a strong feeling of perplexity as concerned poor Mr. Henderson. It was not quite accordant with the old gentleman's strict notions of honor and steadiness of purpose; but as some benefit might result from the arrangement, it was perhaps better to benefit two parties than one only. Thereupon the matter was presently settled, and Mr. Henderson again disappointed of a living. This disappointment, however, the good man bore with patience; and he was, though with great difficulty and after long and suitable opposition, prevailed upon at last to accept the means of procuring for himself some other living.

And now the daughter of the soap-boiler had become countess, both father and daughter were delighted in the highest degree, nor was Philip himself less pleased. Upon examining, however, his pecuniary resources, the Right Hon. the Earl of Trimmerstone found that his means were not quite adequate to his rank, or equal to his expectations: for the property received with Celestina was rather a large than a small proportion of the wealth of Sir Gilbert Sampson. This was mortifying; but there was still a fine prospect to look forward to in the event of old Mr. Martindale's decease: therefore the Earl and Countess of Trimmerstone resolved to keep up the dignity of their rank at as little expense as possible.

This resolution was certainly very good, but unfortunately it proved to be good for nothing. For in a certain rank there are certain expenses which are absolutely unavoidable; and then it might be naturally supposed that, when Mr. Martindale had made a sacrifice for the purpose of raising his relative's rank, he would alter the tenor of his whimsical will. Under the influence of this consideration, and by the power of unavoidable circumstances, it happened that the Earl of Trimmerstone, though in possession of more ample means than were ever enjoyed by the Hon. Philip Martindale, found himself almost as necessitous and as embarrassed as ever. His most amiable countess loved splendor, and therefore found it to be absolutely necessary. When, therefore, they set up their establishment in town, though they thought that they were using a very high degree of economy, they brought upon themselves the imputation of extravagance, and in fact somewhat more than the imputation. But what could they do? They must live as other persons of the same rank. In addition to the evils of ill-managed expenditure, there arose another very serious difficulty, or rather trouble, to the newly-married pair. The Countess loved splendor, but she had not been properly tutored to manage it; there she was clumsy in display, and tasteless in decoration. She had not the power of carrying off the absurdities of fashion with the proper grace and indifference of right-honorable impudence. Frequently, therefore, his lordship felt ashamed of his countess; and not unfrequently, some of his companions and friends would amuse themselves at his expense; and he always felt himself in jeopardy, as if about to hear the word "soap" mentioned. The Earl of Trimmerstone not finding the Countess much of a companion, sought elsewhere for the pleasures of society. The Countess of Trimmerstone loved not solitude, but unhappily was by no means select in her associates. Being resolved not to be proud, so as to neglect her old acquaintance, her ladyship found it difficult to keep a very choice circle of acquaintance in her new sphere. There were not wanting persons of rank and distinction amidst her visitors and companions, but these were not always of the best kind. In her innocence and good-humor she knew it not, but his lordship did, and he was greatly displeased. Then did her ladyship think that his lordship was very harsh and rigid; and then did his lordship think that he had purchased her ladyship's wealth at too dear a price. We were going to say, that then it was too late to repent; no, it was not too late, we think it was very early to repent in the first year of their married life. Be it late or early, they certainly did repent. Celestina thought that it was not so fine a thing to be a countess as she used to imagine. When she was single, it appeared to her most desirable to be a lady; now she was married, she did not think it would be much increase to her happiness to become a duchess.