CHAPTER XXVIII. THE DARK SIDE OF A CHARACTER.
"Ye might ken the style of these epistles by this time, Dinah," said Mr.Henderson, as he walked leisurely up and down a long low-ceilinged room,and addressed himself to a piece of very faded gentility, who sat at awriting-table. "She wants to hear naething but what she likes, and, asnear as may be, in her ain words too."
"I always feel as if I was copying out the same letter every time Iwrite," whined out a weak, sickly voice.
"The safest thing ye could do," replied he, gravely. "She never tireso' reading that everybody on the estate is a fule or a scoundrel, andye canna be far wrang when ye say the worst o' them all. Hae ye told heraboot the burnin' at Kyle-a-Noe?"
"Yes, I have said that you have little doubt it was malicious."
"And hae ye said that there's not a sixpence to be had out of the wholetownland of Kiltimmon?"
"I have. I have told her that, except Miss Mary herself, nobody wouldventure into the barony."
"The greater fule yerself, then," said he, angrily. "Couldna ye see thatshe'll score this as a praise o' the young leddy's courage? Ye maun juststrike it out, ma'am, and say that the place is in open rebellion--"
"I thought you bade me say that Miss Mary had gone down there and spokento the people--"
"I bade ye say," broke he angrily in, "that Miss Mary declared no rentshould be demanded o' them in their present distress; that she threwthe warrants into the fire, and vowed that if we called a sale o' theirchattels, she 'd do the same at the castle, and give the people theproceeds."
"You only said that she was in such a passion that she declared she 'dbe right in doing so."
"I hae nae time for hair-splitting, ma'am. I suppose if she had a rightshe 'd exercise it! Put down the words as I gie them to ye! Ye hae noforgotten the conspeeracy?"
"I gave it exactly as you told me, and I copied out the two paragraphsin the papers about it, beginning, 'Great scandal,' and 'If our landedgentry expect--'"
"That's right; and ye hae added the private history of Joan? They 'llmake a fine thing o' that on the trial, showing the chosen associateo' a young leddy to hae been naething better than--Ech! what are yeblubberin' aboot,--is it yer feelin's agen? Ech! ma'am, ye are toosentimental for a plain man like me!"
This rude speech was called up by a smothering effort to concealemotion, which would not be repressed, but burst forth in a violent fitof sobbing.
"I know you didn't mean it. I know you were not thinking--"
"If ye canna keep your ain counsel, ye must just pay the cost o' it,"said he, savagely. "Finish the letter there, and let me send it to thepost. I wanted ye to say a' about the Nelligans comin' up to visitMiss Mary, and she goin' ower the grounds wi' them, and sendin' thempineapples and grapes, and how that the doctor's girls are a'ways wi'her, and that she takes old Catty out to drive along wi' herself inthe pony phaeton, which is condescendin' in a way her Leddyship will noapprove o'. There was mony a thing beside I had in my head, but ye haedriven them a' clean awa' wi' your feelin's!" And he gave the last wordwith an almost savage severity.
"Bide a wee!" cried he, as she was folding up the letter. "Ye may addthat Mister Scanlan has taken to shootin' over the preserves we werekeepin' for the Captain, and if her Leddyship does not wish to banishthe woodcocks a'the-gither, she 'd better gie an order to stop him.Young Nelli-gan had a special permission from Miss Mary hersel' and ifit was na that he canna hit a haystack at twenty yards, there 'd no bea cock pheasant in the demesne! I think I 'm looking at her as she readsthis," said he, with a malicious grin. "Ech, sirs, won't her great blackeyebrows meet on her forehead, and her mouth be drawn in till never abit of a red lip be seen! Is na that a chaise I see comin' up the road?"cried he, suddenly. "Look yonder!"
"I thought I saw something pass," said she, trying to strain her eyesthrough the tears that now rose to them.
"It's a post-chaise wi' twa trunks on the top. I wonder who's comin' init?" said Henderson, as he opened the sash-door, and stood awaiting thearrival. The chaise swept rapidly round the beech copse, and drew upbefore the door; the postilion, dismounting, lowered the steps, andassisted a lady to alight. She threw back her veil as she stood on theground, and Kate Henderson, somewhat jaded-looking and pale from herjourney, was before her father. A slight flush--very slight--rose tohis face as he beheld her, and without uttering a word he turned andre-entered the house.
"Ye are aboot to see a visitor, ma'am," said he to his wife; and, takinghis hat, passed out of the room. Meanwhile Kate watched the postboy ashe untied the luggage and deposited it at her side.
"Did n't I rowl you along well, my Lady?--ten miles in little more thanan hour," said he, pointing to his smoking cattle.
"More speed than we needed," said she, with a melancholy smile, whileshe placed some silver in his hand.
"What's this here, my Lady? It's like one of the owld tenpenny bits,"said he, turning over and over a coin as he spoke.
"It's French money," said she, "and unfortunately I have got none otherleft me."
"Sure they'll give you what you want inside," said he, pointing towardsthe house.
"No, no; take this. It is a crown piece, and they'll surely change itfor you in the town." And so saying, she turned towards the door.When she made one step towards it, however, she stopped. A painfulirresolution seemed to possess her; but, recovering it, she turned thehandle and entered.
"We did not know you were coming; at least, he never told me," said herstepmother, in a weak, broken voice, as she arose from her seat.
"There was no time to apprise you," said Kate, as she walked towards thefire and leaned her arm on the chimney-piece.
"You came away suddenly, then? Had anything unpleasant--was there anyreason--"
"I had been desirous of leaving for some time back. Lady Dorothea onlygave her consent on Tuesday last,--I think it was Tuesday; but my headis not very clear, for I am somewhat tired." There was an indescribablesadness in the way these simple words were uttered and in the sigh whichfollowed them.
"I 'm afraid he 'll not be pleased at it!" said the other, timidly.
Another sigh, but still weaker than the former, was Kate's only reply.
"And how did you leave Mr. Martin? They tell us here that his case ishopeless," said Mrs. Henderson.
"He is very ill, indeed; the doctors give no hope of saving him. Is MissMartin fully aware of his state?"
"Who can tell? We scarcely ever see her. You know that she never wasvery partial to your father, and latterly there has been a greaterdistance than ever between them. They differ about everything; and withthat independent way he has--"
A wide stare from Kate's full dark eyes, an expression of astonishment,mingled with raillery, in her features, here arrested the speaker, whoblushed deeply in her embarrassment.
"Go on," said Kate, gently. "Pray continue, and let me hear what it isthat his independence accomplishes."
"Oh, dear!" sighed the other. "I see well you are not changed, Kate.You have come back with your old haughty spirit, and sure you know well,dear, that he 'll not bear it."
"I 'll not impose any burden on his forbearance. A few days' shelter--aweek or two at furthest--will not be, perhaps, too much to ask."
"So, then, you have a situation in view, Kate?" asked she, more eagerly.
"The world is a tolerably wide one, and I 'm sure there is room for mesomewhere, even without displacing another. But let us talk of anythingelse. How are the Nelligans? and Joe, what is he doing?"
"The old people are just as you left them; but Mr. Joseph is a greatman now,--dines with the Lord-Lieutenant, and goes into all the grandsociety of Dublin."
"Is he spoiled by his elevation?"
"Your father thinks him haughtier than he used to be; but many say thathe is exactly what he always was. Mrs. Nelligan comes up frequently tothe cottage now, and dines with Miss Martin. I 'm sure I don't know howmy Lady would like to see her there."
"She is not very likely," said Kate, dryly.
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"Why not?"
"I mean, that nothing is less probable than Lady Dorothea's returnhere."
"I suppose not!" half sighed Mrs. Henderson, for hers was one of thosesorrowful temperaments that extract only the bitter from the cup oflife. In reality, she had little reason to wish for Lady Dorothea'spresence, but still she could make a "very good grievance" out of herabsence, and find it a fitting theme for regret. "What reason do youmean to give for your coming home, Kate, if he should ask you?" inquiredshe, after a pause.
"That I felt dissatisfied with my place," replied Kate, coldly.
"And we were always saying what a piece of good luck it was for you tobe there! Miss Mary told Mrs. Nelligan--it was only the other day--thather uncle could n't live without you,--that you nursed him, and read tohim, and what not; and as to her Ladyship, that she never took a drivein the carriage, or answered a note, without asking your advice first."
"What a profound impression Miss Martin must have received of my talentsfor intrigue!" said Kate, sneeringly.
"I believe not. I think she said something very kind and good-natured,just as if it was only people who had really very great gifts that couldcondescend to make themselves subservient without humiliation. I knowshe said 'without humiliation,' because your father laughed when heheard of it, and remarked, 'If it's Kate's humility they like, they areassuredly thankful for small mercies!"
"I should like to go over and see Miss Martin. What distance is it fromthis to the cottage?"
"It's full three miles; but it's all through the demesne."
"I'm a good walker, and I'll go," said she, rising. "But first, might Iask for a little refreshment,--a cup of tea? Oh, I forgot," added she,smiling, "tea is one of the forbidden luxuries here."
"No; but your father doesn't like to see it in the daytime. If you'dtake it in your own room--"
"Of course, and be most thankful. Am I to have the little room with thegreen paper, where I used to be, long ago?"
"Well, indeed, I can scarcely tell. The bed was taken down last autumn;and as we never thought of your coming home--"
"Home!" sighed Kate, involuntarily.
"But come into my room, and I 'll fetch you a cup of tea directly."
"No, no; it is better not to risk offending him," said Kate, calmly. "Iremember, now, that this was one of his antipathies. Give me anythingelse, for I have not eaten to-day."
While her stepmother went in search of something to offer her, Kate satdown beside the fire, deep in thought. She had removed her bonnet, andher long silky hair fell in rich masses over her neck and shoulders,giving a more fixed expression to her features, which were of deathlikepaleness. And so she sat, gazing intently on the fire, as thoughshe were reading her very destiny in the red embers before her. Herpreoccupation of mind was such that she never noticed the opening ofthe door, nor remarked that her father had entered. The noise of a chairbeing moved suddenly startled her. She looked up, and there he stood,his hat on his head and his arms closely folded on his breast, at theopposite side of the fire.
"Well, lassie," said he, after a long and steady stare at her, "ye haeleft your place, or been turned oot o' it,--whilk is the case?"
"I came away of my own accord," said she, calmly.
"And against my Leddy's wish?"
"No, with her full consent."
"And how did ye do it? for in her last letter to my sel', she says, 'Idesire ye, therefore, to bear in mind that any step she takes on thishead'--meaning about going away--'shall have been adopted in directopposition to my wishes.' What has ye done since that?"
"I have succeeded in convincing her Ladyship that I was right in leavingher!" said Kate.
"Was it the force of your poleetical convictions that impelled ye tothis course?" said he, with a bitter grin, "for they tell me ye are arare champion o' the rights o' the people, and scruple not to denouncethe upper classes, while ye eat their bread."
"I denounce no one; nor, so far as I know myself, is ingratitude amongstmy faults."
"Maybe, if one were to tak' your ain narrative for it, ye hae nae faultsworse than mere failings! But this is na telling me why ye left myLeddy."
Kate made no answer, but sat steadily watching the fire.
"Ye wad rayther, mayhap, that I asked hersel' aboot it! Well, be it so.And noo comes anither point. Do ye think that if your conduct has inany way given displeasure to your mistress, or offended those in whoseservice ye were,--do ye think, I say, that ye hae the right to involve_me_ in your shame and disgrace?"
"Do you mean," said she, calmly, "that I had no right to come here?"
"It 's just exactly what I mean; that if ye canna mak' friends foryoursel', ye ought not to turn away those whilk befriend your family."
"But what was I to have done, then?" said she, gently. "There werecircumstances that required--imperatively required me--to leave LadyDorothea--"
"Let me hear them," said he, breaking in, "It would lead me to speak ofothers than myself,--of events which are purely family matters,--were Ito enter upon this theme. Besides," said she, rising, "I am not, so faras I know, on my trial. There is not anything laid to my charge. I haveno apologies to render."
At this moment her stepmother appeared with a tray at the door, andseeing Henderson, endeavored to retire unobserved, but his quick eyehad already detected her, and he cried out, "Come here,--ye canna dotoo much honor to a young leddy who has such a vara profound esteemfor hersel'! Cake and wine! my faith! No but ye 'll deem it vara vulgarfare, after the dainties ye hae been used to! And yet, lassie, these arenae the habits here!"
"She has eaten nothing to-day!" meekly observed her stepmother.
"My fayther wad hae askit her hoo much has she earned the day?" saidHenderson, severely.
"You are quite right, sir," broke in Kate,--"I have earned nothing. Notjust yet," added she, as her stepmother pressed a glass of wine on heracceptance; "a little later, perhaps. I have no appetite now."
"Are ye sae stupid, ma'am, that ye canna see ye are dealin' wi' a fineleddy, wha is no obleeged to hae the same mind twa minutes thegither?Ye 'll hae to train wee Janet to be a' ready for whate'er caprice isuppermost. But mine me, lassie,"--here he turned a look of stern meaningtowards her,--"ye hae tried for mony a lang day to subdue _me_ to yourwhims and fancies, as they tell me ye hae done wi' sae mony others, andye are just as far fra it noo as the first time ye tried it. Ye cannacheat nor cajole _me! I_ know ye!" And with these words, uttered in atone of intense passion, he slowly walked out of the room.
"Had he been angry with you?--had anything occurred before I came in?"asked her stepmother.
"Very little," sighed Kate, wearily. "He was asking me why I came here,I believe. I could scarcely tell him; perhaps I don't very well know,myself."
"He can't get it out of his head," said the other, in a low, stealthywhisper, "that, if you should leave Lady Dorothea, he will be turnedaway out of the stewardship. He is always saying it,--he repeats it evenin his dreams. But for that, he 'd not have met you so--so--unkindly."
Kate pressed her hand affectionately, and smiled a thankfulacknowledgment of this speech. "And the cottage," said she, rallyingsuddenly, "is about three miles off?"
"Not more. But you could scarcely walk there and back again. Besides, itis already growing late, and you have no chance of seeing Miss Mary ifyou 're not there by breakfast-time, since, when she comes home of anevening, she admits no one. She reads or studies, I believe, all theevening."
"I think she'd see me," said Kate; "I should have so much to tell herabout her friends. I 'm sure she 'd see _me_,--at least, I'll try."
"But you'll eat something,--you 'll at least drink a glass of winebefore you set out?"
"I do not like to refuse you," said Kate, smiling good-naturedly, "but Icould n't swallow now. I have a choking feeling here in my throat, likea heavy cold, that seems as though it would suffocate me. Good-bye, fora while. I shall be quite well, once I 'm in the open air. Good-bye!"And, so saying, she wrapped her shawl arou
nd her, and motioning afarewell with her hand, set out on her errand.