CHAPTER XI. THE DRAWING-MASTER'S CONFESSION.
"Is there nothing else you can suggest?" Emily asked.
"Nothing--at present."
"If my aunt fails us, have we no other hope?"
"I have hope in Mrs. Rook," Alban answered. "I see I surprise you; but Ireally mean what I say. Sir Jervis's housekeeper is an excitable woman,and she is fond of wine. There is always a weak side in the characterof such a person as that. If we wait for our chance, and turn it tothe right use when it comes, we may yet succeed in making her betrayherself."
Emily listened to him in bewilderment.
"You talk as if I was sure of your help in the future," she said. "Haveyou forgotten that I leave school to-day, never to return? In half anhour more, I shall be condemned to a long journey in the company of thathorrible creature--with a life to look forward to, in the same housewith her, among strangers! A miserable prospect, and a hard trial of agirl's courage--is it not, Mr. Morris?"
"You will at least have one person, Miss Emily, who will try with allhis heart and soul to encourage you."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean," said Alban, quietly, "that the Midsummer vacation beginsto-day; and that the drawing-master is going to spend his holidays inthe North."
Emily jumped up from her chair. "You!" she exclaimed. "_You_ are goingto Northumberland? With me?"
"Why not?" Alban asked. "The railway is open to all travelers alike, ifthey have money enough to buy a ticket."
"Mr. Morris! what _can_ you be thinking of? Indeed, indeed, I am notungrateful. I know you mean kindly--you are a good, generous man. Butdo remember how completely a girl, in my position, is at the mercy ofappearances. You, traveling in the same carriage with me! and thatwoman putting her own vile interpretation on it, and degrading me in SirJervis Redwood's estimation, on the day when I enter his house! Oh, it'sworse than thoughtless--it's madness, downright madness."
"You are quite right," Alban gravely agreed, "it _is_ madness. I lostwhatever little reason I once possessed, Miss Emily, on the day when Ifirst met you out walking with the young ladies of the school."
Emily turned away in significant silence. Alban followed her.
"You promised just now," he said, "never to think unjustly of me again.I respect and admire you far too sincerely to take a base advantage ofthis occasion--the only occasion on which I have been permitted to speakwith you alone. Wait a little before you condemn a man whom you don'tunderstand. I will say nothing to annoy you--I only ask leave to explainmyself. Will you take your chair again?"
She returned unwillingly to her seat. "It can only end," she thought,sadly, "in my disappointing him!"
"I have had the worst possible opinion of women for years past," Albanresumed; "and the only reason I can give for it condemns me out of myown mouth. I have been infamously treated by one woman; and my woundedself-esteem has meanly revenged itself by reviling the whole sex. Waita little, Miss Emily. My fault has received its fit punishment. I havebeen thoroughly humiliated--and _you_ have done it."
"Mr. Morris!"
"Take no offense, pray, where no offense is meant. Some few years sinceit was the great misfortune of my life to meet with a Jilt. You knowwhat I mean?"
"Yes."
"She was my equal by birth (I am a younger son of a country squire), andmy superior in rank. I can honestly tell you that I was fool enough tolove her with all my heart and soul. She never allowed me to doubt--Imay say this without conceit, remembering the miserable end of it--thatmy feeling for her was returned. Her father and mother (excellentpeople) approved of the contemplated marriage. She accepted my presents;she allowed all the customary preparations for a wedding to proceed tocompletion; she had not even mercy enough, or shame enough, to preventme from publicly degrading myself by waiting for her at the altar, inthe presence of a large congregation. The minutes passed--and no brideappeared. The clergyman, waiting like me, was requested to return to thevestry. I was invited to follow him. You foresee the end of the story,of course? She had run away with another man. But can you guess who theman was? Her groom!"
Emily's face reddened with indignation. "She suffered for it? Oh, Mr.Morris, surely she suffered for it?"
"Not at all. She had money enough to reward the groom for marryingher; and she let herself down easily to her husband's level. It was asuitable marriage in every respect. When I last heard of them, they wereregularly in the habit of getting drunk together. I am afraid Ihave disgusted you? We will drop the subject, and resume my preciousautobiography at a later date. One showery day in the autumn of lastyear, you young ladies went out with Miss Ladd for a walk. When you wereall trotting back again, under your umbrellas, did you (in particular)notice an ill-tempered fellow standing in the road, and getting a goodlook at you, on the high footpath above him?"
Emily smiled, in spite of herself. "I don't remember it," she said.
"You wore a brown jacket which fitted you as if you had been born init--and you had the smartest little straw hat I ever saw on a woman'shead. It was the first time I ever noticed such things. I think I couldpaint a portrait of the boots you wore (mud included), from memoryalone. That was the impression you produced on me. After believing,honestly believing, that love was one of the lost illusions of mylife--after feeling, honestly feeling, that I would as soon look atthe devil as look at a woman--there was the state of mind to whichretribution had reduced me; using for his instrument Miss Emily Brown.Oh, don't be afraid of what I may say next! In your presence, and outof your presence, I am man enough to be ashamed of my own folly. I amresisting your influence over me at this moment, with the strongest ofall resolutions--the resolution of despair. Let's look at the humorousside of the story again. What do you think I did when the regiment ofyoung ladies had passed by me?"
Emily declined to guess.
"I followed you back to the school; and, on pretense of having adaughter to educate, I got one of Miss Ladd's prospectuses from theporter at the lodge gate. I was in your neighborhood, you must know, ona sketching tour. I went back to my inn, and seriously considered whathad happened to me. The result of my cogitations was that I wentabroad. Only for a change--not at all because I was trying to weaken theimpression you had produced on me! After a while I returned to England.Only because I was tired of traveling--not at all because your influencedrew me back! Another interval passed; and luck turned my way, fora wonder. The drawing-master's place became vacant here. Miss Laddadvertised; I produced my testimonials; and took the situation. Onlybecause the salary was a welcome certainty to a poor man--not at allbecause the new position brought me into personal association with MissEmily Brown! Do you begin to see why I have troubled you with all thistalk about myself? Apply the contemptible system of self-delusion whichmy confession has revealed, to that holiday arrangement for a tour inthe north which has astonished and annoyed you. I am going to travelthis afternoon by your train. Only because I feel an intelligent longingto see the northernmost county of England--not at all because I won'tlet you trust yourself alone with Mrs. Rook! Not at all because I won'tleave you to enter Sir Jervis Redwood's service without a friend withinreach in case you want him! Mad? Oh, yes--perfectly mad. But, tell methis: What do all sensible people do when they find themselves in thecompany of a lunatic? They humor him. Let me take your ticket and seeyour luggage labeled: I only ask leave to be your traveling servant.If you are proud--I shall like you all the better, if you are--pay mewages, and keep me in my proper place in that way."
Some girls, addressed with this reckless intermingling of jest andearnest, would have felt confused, and some would have felt flattered.With a good-tempered resolution, which never passed the limits ofmodesty and refinement, Emily met Alban Morris on his own ground.
"You have said you respect me," she began; "I am going to prove that Ibelieve you. The least I can do is not to misinterpret you, on my side.Am I to understand, Mr. Morris--you won't think the worse of me, I hope,if I speak plainly--am I to understand that you are in love with me
?"
"Yes, Miss Emily--if you please."
He had answered with the quaint gravity which was peculiar to him; buthe was already conscious of a sense of discouragement. Her composure wasa bad sign--from his point of view.
"My time will come, I daresay," she proceeded. "At present Iknow nothing of love, by experience; I only know what some of myschoolfellows talk about in secret. Judging by what they tell me, agirl blushes when her lover pleads with her to favor his addresses. Am Iblushing?"
"Must I speak plainly, too?" Alban asked.
"If you have no objection," she answered, as composedly as if she hadbeen addressing her grandfather.
"Then, Miss Emily, I must say--you are not blushing."
She went on. "Another token of love--as I am informed--is to tremble. AmI trembling?"
"No."
"Am I too confused to look at you?"
"No."
"Do I walk away with dignity--and then stop, and steal a timid glance atmy lover, over my shoulder?"
"I wish you did!"
"A plain answer, Mr. Morris! Yes or No."
"No--of course."
"In one last word, do I give you any sort of encouragement to tryagain?"
"In one last word, I have made a fool of myself--and you have taken thekindest possible way of telling me so."
This time, she made no attempt to reply in his own tone. Thegood-humored gayety of her manner disappeared. She was inearnest--truly, sadly in earnest--when she said her next words.
"Is it not best, in your own interests, that we should bid each othergood-by?" she asked. "In the time to come--when you only remember howkind you once were to me--we may look forward to meeting again. Afterall that you have suffered, so bitterly and so undeservedly, don't, praydon't, make me feel that another woman has behaved cruelly to you, andthat I--so grieved to distress you--am that heartless creature!"
Never in her life had she been so irresistibly charming as she was atthat moment. Her sweet nature showed all its innocent pity for him inher face.
He saw it--he felt it--he was not unworthy of it. In silence, he liftedher hand to his lips. He turned pale as he kissed it.
"Say that you agree with me?" she pleaded.
"I obey you."
As he answered, he pointed to the lawn at their feet. "Look," he said,"at that dead leaf which the air is wafting over the grass. Is itpossible that such sympathy as you feel for Me, such love as I feel forYou, can waste, wither, and fall to the ground like that leaf? I leaveyou, Emily--with the firm conviction that there is a time of fulfillmentto come in our two lives. Happen what may in the interval--I trust thefuture."