CHAPTER II.
TREVORSHAM
I suppose I had better tell what we had been doing all this time. Adelaand I had come out, and had a season or two in London, and my fatherhad enjoyed our pleasure in it, and paid a good deal of court to ourpretty Adela, because there was no driving Torwood into anything warmerthan easy brotherly companionship.
In fact, Torwood had never cared for anyone but little Emily Deerhurst.Once he had come to her rescue, when she was only nine or ten yearsold, and her schoolboy cousins were teasing her, and at everyTwelfth-day party since she and he had come together as by right.There was something irresistible in her great soft plaintive browneyes, though she was scarcely pretty otherwise, and we used to call herthe White Doe of Rylstone. Torwood was six or seven years older, andno one supposed that he seriously cared for her, till she was sixteen.Then, when my father spoke point blank to him about Adela, he wasdriven into owning what he wished.
My father thought it utter absurdity. The connection was not pleasantto him; Mrs. Deerhurst was always looked on as a designing widow, whomanaged to marry off her daughters cleverly, and he could believe nogood of Emily.
Now Adela always had more power with papa than any of us. She had acoaxing way, which his stately old-school courtesy never could resist.She used when we were children to beg for holidays, and get treats forus; and even now, many a request which we should never have dared toutter, she could, with her droll arch way, make him think the mostsensible thing in the world.
What odd things people can do who have lived together like brothers andsisters! I can hardly help laughing when I think of Torwood comingdisconsolately up from the library, and replying, in answer to ourvigorous demands, that his lordship had some besotted notion past allreason.
Then we pressed him harder--Adela with indignation, and I withsympathy--till we forced out of him that he had been forbidden ever tothink or speak again of Emily, and all his faith in her laughed toscorn, as delusions induced by Mrs. Deerhurst.
"I'm sure I hope you'll take Ormerod, Adela," I remember he ended;"then at least you would be out of the way."
For Sir John Ormerod's courtship was an evident fact to all the family,as, indeed, Adela was heiress enough to be a good deal troubled withsuitors, though she had hitherto managed to make them all keep theirdistance.
Adela laughed at him for his kind wishes, but I could see she meant toplead for him. She had her chance, for Sir John Ormerod broughtmatters to a crisis at the next ball; and though she thought, as shesaid, "she had settled him," he followed it up with her guardian, andAdela was invited to a conference in the library.
It happened that as she ran upstairs, all in a glow, she came onTorwood at the landing. She couldn't help saying in her oddhalf-laughing, half-crying voice--
"It will come right, Torwood; I've made terms, I'm out of your way."
"Not Ormerod!" he exclaimed.
"Oh! no, no!" I can hear her dash of scorn now, for I was just behindmy brother, but she went on out of breath--
"You may go on seeing her, provided you don't say a word--till--tillshe's been out two years."
"Adela! you queen of girls, how have you done it?" he began, but shethrust him aside and flew up into my arms; and when I had her in herown room it came out, I hardly know how, that she had so shown that shecared for no one she had ever seen except my father, that they foundthey _did_ love each other; and--and--in short they were going to bemarried.
Really it seemed much less wonderful then than it does in thinking ofit afterwards. My father was much handsomer than any young man I eversaw, with a hawk nose, a clear rosy skin, pure pink and white like aboy's, curly little rings of white hair, blue eyes clear and bright asthe sky, a tall upright soldierly figure, and a magnificent statelybearing, courteous and grand to all, but sweetly tender to a very few,and to her above all. It always had been so ever since he had broughther home an orphan of six years old from her mother's death-bed atNice. And he was youthful, could ride or hunt all day without so muchfatigue as either of his sons, and was as fresh and eager in all hisways as a lad.
And she, our pretty darling! I don't think Torwood and I in the leastfelt the incongruity of her becoming our step-mother, only that papawas making her more entirely his own.
I am glad we did not mar the sunshine. It did not last long. She camehome thoroughly unwell from their journey to Switzerland, and never gotbetter. By the time the spring had come round again, she was lying inthe vault at Trevorsham, and we were trying to keep poor little Aluredalive and help my poor father to bear it.
He was stricken to the very heart, and never was the same man again.His age seemed to come upon him all at once; and whereas at sixty-fivehe had been like a man ten years younger, he suddenly became like oneten years older; and though he never was actually ill, he failed frommonth to month.
He could not bear the sight or sound of the poor baby. Poor Adela hadscarcely lived to hear it was a boy, and all she had said about it was,"Ursula, you'll be his mother." And, oh! I have tried. If love woulddo it, I think he could not be more even to dear Adela!
What a frail little life it was! What nights and days we had with him;doctors saying that skill could not do it, but care might; and nursesknowing how to be more effective than I could be; yet while I durst nottouch him I could not bear not to see him. And I do think I was thefirst person he began to know.
Meantime, there was a great difference in Torwood. He had been verymuch of a big boy hitherto. No one but myself could have guessed thathe cared for much besides a lazy kind of enjoyment of all the best andnicest things in this world. He did what he was told, but in anuninterested sort of way, just as if politics and county business, andwork at the estate, were just as much tasks thrust on him as Virgil andHomer had been; and put his spirit into sporting, &c.
But when he was allowed to think hopefully of Emily, it seemed to makea man of him, and he took up all that he had to do, as if it reallyconcerned him, and was not only a burden laid on him by his father.
And, as my father became less able to exert himself, Torwood cameforward more, and was something substantial to lean upon. Dear fellow!I am sure he did well earn the consent he gained at last, though notwith much satisfaction, from papa.
Emily had grown into great sweetness and grace, and Mrs. Deerhurst hadgone on very well. Of course, people were unkind enough to say, it wasonly because she had such prey in view as Lord Torwood; but, whateverwithheld her, it is certain that Emily only had the most suitable andreasonable pleasures for a young lady, and was altogether as nice, andgentle, and sensible, as could be desired. There never was a bit ofacting in her, she was only allowed to grow in what seemed natural toher. She was just one of the nice simple girls of that day, doing herquiet bit of solid reading, and her practice, and her neat littlesmooth pencil drawing from a print, as a kind of duty to heraccomplishments every day; and filling books with neat up-and-down MS.copies of all the poetry that pleased her. Dainty in all her ways,timid, submissive, and as it seemed to me, colourless.
But Fulk taught her Wordsworth, who was his great passion then, andfound her a perfect listener to all his Tory hopes, fears, and usages.
Papa could not help liking her when she came to stay with us, afterthey were engaged, at the end of two years. He allowed that, away fromher mother and all her belongings, she would do very well; and she wasso pretty and sweet in her respectful fear of him--I might almost sayawe--that his graceful, chivalrous courtesy woke up again; and he wasbeginning absolutely to enjoy her, as she became a little moreconfident and understood him better.
How well I remember that last evening! I was happier than I had beenfor weeks about little Alured: the convulsions had quite gone off, theteeth that had caused them were through, and he had been laughing andplaying on my lap quite brightly--cooing to his mother's miniature inmy locket. He was such an intelligent little fellow for eighteenmonths! I came down so glad, and it was so pleasant to see Emily, inher white dress, le
aning over my father while he had gone so happilyinto his old delight of showing his prints and engravings; and Torwood,standing by the fire, watching them with the look of a conqueror, andJaquetta--like the absurd child she loved to be--teasing them withridiculous questions about their housekeeping.
They were to have Spinney Lawn bought for them, just a mile away, andthe business was in hand. Jacquey was enquiring whether there was aparlour for The Cid, Torwood's hunter, whom she declared was as dear tohim as Emily herself. Indeed, Emily did go out every morning afterbreakfast to feed him with bread. I can see her now on Torwood's arm,with big Rollo and little Malta rolling over one another after them.
Then came an afternoon when we had all walked to Spinney Lawn, laid outthe gardens together, and wandered about the empty rooms, planning forthem. The birds were singing in the March sunshine, and the tomtitswere calling "peter" in the trees, and Jaquetta went racing about afterthe dogs, like a thing of seven years old, instead of seventeen. AndTorwood was cutting out a root of primroses, leaves and all, for Emily,when we saw a fly go along the lane, and wondered, with a sort of idlewonder. We supposed it must be visitors for the parsonage, and so westrolled home, looking for violets by the way, and Jaquetta gettingshiny studs of celandine. Ah! I remember those glistening stars wereall closed before we came back.
Well, it must come, so it is silly to linger! There stood the fly atthe hall-door, and the butler met us, saying--
"There's a person with his lordship, my lord. She would not wait tillyou came in, though I told her he saw no one on business without you--"
Torwood hastened on before this, expecting to see some importunateperson bothering my father with a petition. What he did see was myfather leaning back in his chair, with a white, confounded, bewilderedlook, and a woman, with a child on her lap, opposite. Her back was tothe door, and Torwood's first impression was that she was awell-dressed impostor threatening him; so he came quickly to myfather's side, and said--
"What is it father? I'm here."
My poor father put out his hand feebly to him, and said--
"It is all true, Torwood. God forgive me; I did not know it!"
"Know what?" he asked anxiously. "What is it that distresses you,father? Let me speak to this person--"
Then she broke out--not loud, not coarsely, but verydeterminately--"No, sir; you would be very glad to suppress me, and mychild, and my evidence, no doubt; but the Earl of Trevorsham hasacknowledged the truth of my claim, and I will not leave this spot tillhe has acknowledged my mother as his only lawful wife, and my child,Trevor Lea, as his only lawful heir!"
Torwood thought her insane and only said quietly, as he offered myfather his arm, "I will talk it over with you presently; LordTrevorsham is not equal to discuss it now."
"I see what you mean!" she said quickly. "You would like to make meout crazy, but Lord Trevorsham knows better. Do not you, my father?"she said, with a strong emphasis, the more marked, because it wasconcentrated, not loud.
My poor father was shuddering all over with involuntary trembling; buthe put Torwood's hand away from him, and looked up piteously, as if hisheart was breaking (as it was); but he spoke steadily. "It is true.It is true, Torwood. I was married to poor Faith, when I was a youngman, in Canada. They sent me proofs that all had perished when theIndians attacked the village; but--" and then he put his hands over hisface. It must have been dreadful to see; but Hester Lea was too muchbent on her rights to feel a moment's pity; and she spoke on in a hardtone, with her eyes fixed on my brother's face.
"But you failed to discover that she was rescued from the Indians; gavebirth to me, your daughter, Hester; and only died two years ago."
"You hear! My boy, my poor boy, forgive me; don't leave me to her,"was what my poor father had said--he who had been so strong.
My brother saw what it all meant now. "Never fear that, sir," he said;"I am your son still, any way, you know."
"You will do justice to me," she began, in her fierce tone; but mybrother met it calmly with, "Certainly, we will do our best thatjustice should be done. You have brought proof?"
His quietness overawed her, and she pointed to the papers on the table.They were her mother's attested narrative, and the certificate of herburial.
My brother read aloud, "The 3rd of February, 1836," then he turned tomy father and said, "You observe, father, the difference this may make,if true, is that of putting little Alured into the place I have held.My father's last marriage was on the 15th of April, 1836," he added toher. He says she quite glared at him with mortification, as if he hadinvented poor little Alured on purpose to baffle her; but my fatherbreathed more freely.
"And is nothing--nothing to be done for my child, your own grandson?"exclaimed she, "after these years."
Torwood silenced her by one of his looks. "We only wish to dojustice," he said. "If it be as you say, you will have a right to agreat deal, and it will not be disputed; but you must be aware that aclaim made in this manner requires investigation, and you can see thatmy father is not in a state for an exciting discussion."
"_Your_ father!" she said, with a bitter tone of scorn; but he took itfirmly, though the blood seemed to come boiling to his temples.
"Yes," he said, "my father! and if you are indeed his daughter, youshould show some pity and filial duty, by not forcing the discussion onhim while he can so little bear it."
That staggered her a little, but she said, "I do not wish to do him anyharm, but I have my child's interests to think of. How do I know whatadvantage may be taken against him?"
Torwood saw my father lying back in the chair, trembling, and hedreaded a fit every moment.
"I give you my word," he said, "that no injustice shall be done you;"and as she looked keenly at him, as if she distrusted him, he said,"Yes, you may trust me. I was bred an English gentleman, whatever Iwas born, and I promise you never to come between you and your rights,when your identity as Lord Trevorsham's daughter is fully established.Meantime, do you not see that your presence is killing him? Tell mewhere you may be heard of?"
"I shall stay at the Shinglebay Hotel till I am secure of the justice Iclaim," she said. "Come, my boy, since your own grandfather will notso much as look at you."
Torwood walked her across the hall. He was a little touched by thoselast words, and felt that she might have looked for a daughter'sreception, so he said in the hall--
"You must remember this is a very sudden shock to us all. When myfather has grown accustomed to the idea, no doubt he will wish to seeyou again; but in his present state of health, he must be our firstconsideration. And unprepared as my sisters are, it would beimpossible to ask you to stay in the house."
She was always a little subdued by my brother's manner; I think itscourtesy and polish almost frightened her, high-spirited, resolutewoman as she was.
"I understand," she said, with a stiff, cold tone. Jaquetta heard theecho of it, and wondered.
"But," he added, "when they understand all, and when my father is equalto it, you shall be sent for."
When he went back to the library he found my poor father unconscious.It was really only fainting then, and he came round without anyonebeing called, and he shrank from seeing anyone but Torwood, explainingto him most earnestly how, though he was too ill himself to go to theplace, his brother-officer, General Poyntz, had done so for him, andhad been persuaded that the whole settlement and all the inhabitantshad been swept off. It was such a shock to him that it nearly killedhim. Poor father! it was grievous to hear him wish it had quite doneso!
We only knew that the woman had upset my father very much, and thatTorwood could not leave him. Word was sent us to sit down to dinnerwithout them, and Torwood sent for some gravy soup and some wine forhim. He went on talking--sometimes about us, but more often about poorFaith, who seemed to have come back on him in all the beauty and charmof his first love. He seemed to be talking himself feverish, and aftera time Torwood thought that silence would be better for him
; so he gothim to go to bed, and sent good old Blake, the butler, who had been hisservant in the army, to sit in the dressing-room. Blake, it turned out,had known all about the old story, so he was a safe person. Not thatsafety mattered much. "Lady Hester Lea"--she called herself so now,as, indeed, she had every right--was making it known at Shinglebay.
So Torwood came out. I was very anxious, of course, and had beenhovering about on the nursery stairs, where I had gone to see whetherbaby was quietly asleep, and I overtook him as he was going down-stairs.
"How is papa?" I asked.
I shall never forget the white look of the face he raised up to mine ashe said, "Poor father! Ursula, I can only call the news terrible. Willyou try to stand up against it bravely?"
And then he held out his arms and gathered me into them, and I believeI said, "I can bear anything when you do that!"
I thought it could only be something about Bertram, who had rather away of getting into scrapes, and I said his name; but just as Fulk wassetting me at ease on that score, Jaquetta, who was on the watch, too,opened the door of the green drawing-room, and we were obliged to goin. Then, hardly answering her and Emily, as they asked after papa, hestood straight up in the middle of the rug and told us, beginningwith--"Ursula, did you know that our father had been married as a youngman in Canada?"
No. We had never guessed it.
"He was," my brother went on, "This is his daughter."
"Our sister!" Jaquetta asked. "Where has she been all this time?"
But I saw there must be more to trouble him, and then it came. "Icannot tell. My father had every reason to believe that--she--hisfirst wife--had been killed in a massacre by the Red Indians; but ifwhat this person says is true, she only died two years ago. But it wasin all good faith that he married our mother. He had taken all meansto discover--"
Even then we did not perceive what this involved. I felt stunned andnumbed chiefly from seeing the great shock it had been to my father andto him; but poor little Jaquetta and Emily were altogether puzzled; andJaquetta said, "But is this sister of ours such a very disagreeableperson, Torwood? Why didn't you bring her in and show her to us?"
Then he exclaimed, almost angrily at her simplicity, "Good heavens!girls, don't you see what it all means? If this is true, I am notTorwood. We are nothing--nobody--nameless."
He turned to the fire, put both elbows on the mantelshelf, and hid hisface in his hands. Emily sprang up, and tried to draw down his arm;and she did, but he only used it to put her from him, hold her off atarm's length, and look at her--oh! with such a tender face of firmsorrow!
"Ah! Emily," he said; "you too! It has been all on false pretences!That will have to be all over now."
Then Emily's great brown eyes grew bigger with wonder and dismay.
"False pretences!" she cried, "what false pretences? Not that youcared for me, Torwood."
"Not that I cared for you," he said, with a suppressed tone that madehis voice _so_ deep! "Not that _I_ cared, but that Lord Torwooddid--Torwood is the baby upstairs."
"But it is you--you--you--Fulk!" said Emily, trying to creep and sidleup to him, white doe fashion. I believe nobody had ever called him byhis Christian name before, and it made it sweeter to him, but still hedid not give in.
"Ah! that's all very well," he said, and his voice was softer then,"but what would your mother say?"
"The same as I do," said Emily, undauntedly. "How should it changeone's feelings one bit," and she almost cried at being held back.
He did let her nestle up to him then, but with a sad sort of smile. "Mychild, my darling," he said, "I ought not to allow this! It will onlybe the worse after!"
But just then a servant's step made them start back, and a message cameand brought word that Mr. Blake would be glad if Lord Torwood wouldstep up.
Yes, my poor father was wandering in his speech, and very feverish,mixing up Adela and Faith Le Blanc strangely together sometimes, and atothers fancying he was lying ill with his wound, and sending messagesto Faith.
We sent for the doctor, but he could not do anything really. It hadbeen a death-blow, though the illness lasted a full week. He knew usgenerally, and liked to see us, but he always had the sense thatsomething dreadful had happened to us; and he would stroke my hand orJaquetta's, and pity us. He was haunted, too, by the sense that heought to do something for us which he could not do. We thought hemeant to make a will, securing us something, but he was never in acondition in which my brother would have felt justified in getting himto sign it. Indeed there was so little disease about him, and wethought he would get better, if only we could keep him free fromdistress and excitement; so we made his room as quiet as possible, anddiscouraged his talking or thinking.
Lady Hester came every day. My brother had sent for Mr. Eagles, oursolicitor, to meet her the first time, and look at her papers.
He said he could not deny that it looked very bad for us. Of theoriginal marriage there was no doubt; indeed, my father had toldTorwood where to find the certificate of it, folded up in the secretdrawer of his desk, with his commission in the army; and the registerof Faith's burial was only too plain. The only chance there was for uswas, that her identity could not be established; but Mr. Eagles did notthink it would go off on this. The whole of her life seemed to betraceable; besides, there was something about Hester that forbade allsuspicion of her being a conscious impostor. Whether she would be ableto prove herself my father's daughter was another more doubtful point.That, however, made no difference, except as to her own rank andfortune. If the first wife were proved to have been alive till 1836,then little Alured was the only true heir to the title and estate, and,next after him, stood Hester Lea and her son.
People said she was like the family; I never could see it, and alwaysthought the likeness due to their imagination. She took one bysurprise. She was a tall, well-made woman, with a narrow waist, and aproud, peculiarly upright bearing, though quick, almost sharp in allher movements, and especially with her eyes. Those eyes, I confess,always startled me. They were clear, bright blue, well openedeyes--honest eyes one would have called them--only they appeared to bealways searching about, and darting at one when one least expected it.The red and white of the face too always had a clear hard look, likethe eyes; the teeth projected a little, and were so very, very white,that they always seemed to me to flash like the eyes; and if ever shesmiled, it was as much as to say, "I don't believe you." Her nose hadan amount of hook, too, that always gave me the feeling of having awild hawk in the room with me. Jaquetta used to call her a panther ofthe wilderness, but to my mind there was none of the purring cattishtenderness of the panther. However, that might be only because sheviewed us as her natural enemies, and was always on her guard againstus, though I do not well know why; I am sure we only wanted to know thetruth and do justice, and Fulk was so convinced that she would proveher case, and that there was no help for it, that at the end of hearingMr. Eagles question her, he said, "Well, the matter must be tried indue time, but since we are brothers and sisters, let us be friendly,"and he held out his hand to her. Mr. Eagles, who told me, said hecould have beaten him for the imprudent admission, only he did look sogenerous and sweet and sad; and Lady Hester drew herself up doubtfullyand proudly, as if she could hardly bear to own such a brother, but shedid take his hand, coldly though, and saying, "Let me see my father."
He was obliged to tell her that this was impossible. I doubt whethershe ever believed him--at least she used to gaze at him with herdetermined eyes, as if she meant to abash him out of falsehood, and shesharply questioned every one about Lord Trevorsham's state.
The determination to be friendly made my brother offer to take her tous. She consented, but not very readily, and I am afraid we wereneedlessly cold and dry; but we were taken by surprise when my brotherbrought her into the sitting-room. It was not very easy to welcome thewoman who was going to turn us all out, and under such a stigma; andshe--she could hardly be expected to look complacently a
t theinterlopers who had her place, and the title she had a right to.
She put us through her hard catechism about my dear father's state, andsaid at last that she should like to see Lord Torwood.
Taken by surprise, we looked and signed towards him whom that name hadalways meant. He smiled a little and said, "Little Alured! But,remember, I am bound to concede nothing till judicial minds areconvinced. The parties concerned cannot judge. Can you venture tohave Baby down, Ursula?"
No, I did not venture. I thought it might have been averted; but I wasonly obliged to take her up to the nurseries. On the way up she askedwhich way my father's room lay. I answered, "Oh! across there;" I didnot know if she might not make a dash at it.
I think she must have heard at Shinglebay how delicate poor littleAlured was, and thence gathered hopes of the succession for her boy,for she asked her sharp questions about his health all the way up, andknew that he had had fits. I could not put her down as one generallycan inquisitive people. I suppose it was because she was more sensibleof the difference in our real positions than I have as yet felt.
Baby was asleep; and I think she was touched by the actual sight ofhim. She said he was very like her boy; and though I supposed that amere assertion at the time, it was quite true. Alured and Trevor Leahave always been remarkably alike. However, she cross-examined Nurseabout his health even more minutely, and then took her leave; but shecame again every day, walking after the first, as long as my dearfather lived.
And she must have talked, for there came a kind of feeling overeveryone, as well as ourselves, that something was hanging over us, ofwhich the issue would be known when my father's illness took some turn.
Mr. Decies came every day to inquire, but I could not bear a strangeeye, and Hester might have been looking on. I was steeling myselfagainst him. Was I right?--oh! was I right? I have wondered andgrieved! For I knew well enough what he had been thinking of formonths before; only I did not want it to come to a point. How was I toleave little Alured to Jaquetta? or disturb my father by breaking uphis home? I liked him on the whole, and had come the length ofthinking that if I ever married at all, it would be-- But that's allnonsense; and mine could not have been what other people's love was, orI should not have shrunk from the sight and look of him. If it hadbeen only poverty that was coming, it would have been a differentthing; but to be nameless impostors!
Mrs. Deerhurst had gone out on a round of visits, when Emily came tous, taking her younger daughter. They were not a very letter-writingfamily. It is odd how some people's pen is a real outlet ofexpression; while others seem to lack the nerve that might convey theirthoughts to it, even when they live in more sympathy than Emily couldwell have had with her mother.
At least, so I understand, what afterwards we wondered at, that Emilynever mentioned Hester; only saying, when, after some days she didwrite, that Lord Trevorsham was ill.
So Fulk had the one comfort of being with her when he was out of thesick room. I used to see them from the window walking up and down theterrace in the blue east wind haze of those March days, never that Icould see speaking. I don't think my brother would have felt ithonourable to tie one additional link between himself and her. He hadnot a doubt as to how her mother would act, but to be in her dearlittle affectionate presence was a better help than we could give him,even though nothing passed between them.
Jaquetta used to wonder at them, and then try to go on the same asusual; and would wander about the garden and park with her dogs, andbring us in little anecdotes, and do all the laughing over themherself. Poor child! she felt as if she were in a bad dream, and thesewere efforts to shake it off, and wake herself.
After all, nothing was ever so bad as those ten days! But, my brotheralways said he was thankful for the respite and time for thought whichthey gave him.