CHAPTER XLVI.
SOUR GRAPES.
'Hast thou forgot the day When my father found thee first in places far away? Many flocks were on the hills, but thou wast owned by none.' _Wordsworth's 'Pet Lamb.'_
The London surgeon met Tom May and Page, and gave every hope of littleGerald's ultimate recovery, though for the present there was not muchto be done except watching him, and encouraging such exertion as didnot excite or fatigue. Cherry was so anxious about the examination, itsresult and the directions she received, that she never perceived thatthe doctor spent a much longer time in the study with her brothers thanwas needed on the little boy's account.
This, her preoccupation and bliss of ignorance, was a relief to bothFelix and Clement. They believed there would be ample preparation, andnot only were willing to defer paining her, but would have missed hercheerfulness, and wished to spare her the protracted suspense thatmight undermine her health and power of meeting a crisis that might bedeferred for weeks, months, nay years, or possibly might never come atall; for there was a chance that treatment might disperse the evil. Thesuffering did not increase, and was not constant, but only brought onby sudden movements or in certain attitudes, and any token of it wasalways laid to the credit of the strain. No one could fail to perceivethat Felix was more inert, more grave, and, if possible, more gentle,but the acknowledged injury, as well as the loss of his two brothers,might account both for this and his disinclination to the ordinarysummer gaieties. No one indeed, wished for them, now that Angelaprofessed to have broken with the world, and Geraldine's whole mind wasabsorbed in the anxious tendance of the little nephew, who preferredher to all others, and was continually needing to be soothed or amused,with a precocious intellect stimulated by all he had undergone, andat the same time with spirits and nerves too much shattered to bearthe least strain on mind or body. Edgar's child she must have loved,but this little tender, fitful, dependent creature, used to be thehalf-comprehending recipient of his sad memories and confidences, wasinexpressibly dear to her.
There was hardly any visiting that summer, except the calls of a fewfriends, and in September Felix decided on asking the two Lambs tothe Priory. He had business affairs to arrange with his partner, andthought it would be unforgiving to mortify the wife by excluding herfrom the invitation, so he braved Cherry's absolute indignation. PoorCherry! had she known all, she would not have exploded as she hadhardly done since her girlish contentions with Alda. 'It is really weakto give that woman her wish, and at such a time.'
'I am sorry for the infliction on you, Cherry.'
'You know very well that is not what I care for. It is the insult todear Edgar's memory to have her here pranking herself off.'
'I cannot quite see it in that light.'
'No, you always had some infatuation about her: you sacrificed Lance toher when you let her into the house at Bexley, and now you are lettingher fulfil her aim of coming gossiping here.'
'One can only try to do what one feels to be right, Cherry. I am verysorry, but I cannot be guilty of a marked slight.'
'The more marked the better, I should say.'
'Hush, Geraldine,' sternly interposed Clement; 'you forget yourself.'
She was greatly startled, for she had thought him entirely on her side.
'I understand her,' said Felix, as usual unable to bear reproof to hissister. 'No one can be more fully aware than myself of poor Mrs. Lamb'sundeserts, but Cherry will one day perceive that this is the veryreason I do not choose to treat her with mortifying neglect. If it be afoolish fancy of mine, my dear, please bear with it.'
She was entirely disarmed, burst into tears, undertook to do whateverhe wished, and apologised for her crossness, but in private withClement, she could not help expressing her wonder and annoyance.
'You had better say no more about it,' he answered, 'or you will besorry.'
'I shall say no more, but it is impossible that you should not thinkthis a great pity and mistake.'
'No, I don't.'
'I know I was wrong in flying out in my old way,' said Cherry, humbly.'Perhaps there was more female spite in it than I know, and I amthankful to you for catching me up. Of course this is Felix's house;he invites whom he pleases, and I shall make them welcome; but still Ithink this is a very unnecessary attention, and if you had seen as muchof her as we have, I think you would have enforced my opinion.'
He smiled a little sadly, and let it pass, and Cherry inferred thateven a cassock could not guard the male sex from weak toleration ofa pretty woman. Yet her loyalty was so strong that, when Wilmet'ssurprise and aversion were expressed with equal plainness, shemaintained her brother's right to practise romantic generosity in hisown house, especially since his prudence had abstained as long as anyspeculations could be thereby encouraged.
The visit was to last from Saturday to Monday, and in due time Mrs.Lamb made her appearance, pretty, youthful, and charmingly dressed,with her husband looking so proud of her as almost to overpower hisbashfulness.
They were a great contrast, he so honestly simple and affectionate,adoring every word she uttered, however alien to his nature, and shewith the claws full grown that poor Edgar had detected in the kitten.Indeed she was not unlike a handsome sleek cat or managing wife, anexcellent and tender mother, dainty and demure, but not by any meansindisposed to give a sharp scratch with her velvet paw.
When she exclaimed with playful surprise, 'Oh! what a queer old place.So different from what I expected!' or, 'Looking into the churchyard!It would give me the horrors in a week! Such a melancholy noise fromthe river!' Cherry might conclude that the grapes were sour, but theadmirable Lamb was solaced by his wife's sweet preference for herhumble home. Such scratches as would have been patent to that goodman were reserved for his absence, as when she bewailed the low tastesof such a promising young man as Lance--Cherry made some effort todiscover what she could possibly mean, and found that the low tastessignified his preference for Mrs. Froggatt's company, and his assiduityat the Shakespeare Club and Penny Readings.
Of course she commiserated Wilmet for her children's redhair--predicted that Gerald would be a cripple for life, and lamentedAngela's being 'sadly gone off.' Angela did in fact avoid the lady asmuch as possible, and on the Sunday afternoon went off to what she hadin her unconverted days been wont to term the Hepburn Methody Meeting,i.e., a Bible class with exposition and prayer held by the good ladiesin their own dining-room, an institution dating from the darkest agesof the parish.
Their green-shuttered house looked out upon a space shaped like atriangle, grassy, and formed by the divergence of the Blackstone lane,the nearest approach to a village-green possessed by Vale Leston.Angela was lingering after the dismissal of the class, discussing WillHarewood's sermon, which by-the-by, the clever Miss Isabella muchpreferred to the Vicar's, probably because Will, a far larger-mindedand more intellectual man, was a great deal the most metaphysical, andhad more points of contact with her, when the sound of a bawling voice,interspersed with the singing of a hymn, became audible through theopen window, and a procession consisting of a pale-faced young man,one old one, three able-bodied women, and four little girls came fromthe Ewmouth road, and having arrived at the triangle, the young manmounted a log of timber and began to preach. Sounds ensued which madethe invalid Miss Hepburn exclaim: 'Oh! there are those people again!There will be an uproar! Oh! my dear, shut the window, and come intothe other room!'
'What for?' demanded Angela, who was trying to hear.
'My dear, you can't think how dreadful it was. Such a noise, and thatterrible Timins set his big dog at the preacher, and the poor oldSquire said it served him right, and would not commit him.'
'Such a thing might be stopped in a moment,' cried Angela. 'Couldn'tyou, Miss Isabel?'
'My dear, I did not feel free when it was the message of the Gospel.'
'I didn't mean the preacher, but the persecutors. You could stop themdirectly.'
'Go ou
t there! A lady, my dear Angela!' cried Miss Bridget
'One does not stick at trifles in such cases!' cried Angela.
'Trifles!' was echoed round her.
At that moment a coarse derisive laugh made Miss Hepburn scream andMiss Martha fly to shut the window, while Angela caught up her bonnetsaying, 'I'll soon put an end to it.'
'My dearest Angela, you are not going out; your brother would not likeit.'
'Lydia never asked what her brother liked by the river-side,' saidAngela, hastily fastening her head gear.
'Oh! don't let her go. Isa--Bridget--they'll hurt her. My dear! Stopher,' entreated the sick sister.
'Miss Underwood going out to a Ranter!' cried Miss Bridget.
'Your brothers will never forgive us,' sobbed Miss Martha. And MissIsabella laid hands on her. 'It is not proper, Angela, I cannot sufferit.'
'I cannot suffer violence to be done to one who is preaching that Namefor petty scruples of worldly propriety.'
'They'll throw stones--She'll be hurt,' sobbed Miss Hepburn.
'You know better, dear Miss Hepburn,' said Angela, turning with a smile.
In another moment she was gone, out into the road.
There was a hush at once. The boys all turned round, and the nearest,a lively mischievous fellow, accosted her with a touch of his hat, andevident sense of high desert. 'Us aint a bin listening to that therechap, ma'am. Us be going to send he off faster than he came. Us don'twant none of his sort.'
'How do you know that, George?' responded Angela, to his greatamazement. 'How do you know he has not the very message you have beenwanting so long.'
The boy opened the roundest eyes. If any opinion was stronglyestablished, it was the ill savour of ranters in the nostrils of thegentry.
'Squire'd be against it, ma'am,' said an older man, 'and Mr. Eddard!Us knows our dooty better than to hearken to such like trash.'
'For shame, Brand,' returned the young lady. 'How dare you speak so ofa man who comes in that Name. Now! Here I mean you to stand and listen.Who can tell what good he may do us?'
'Miss Angela' was the universal favorite with the village youth, havingfascinated them from the first; and if they had of late remarked anychange in her, it was set down to 'taking on' about her brothers,and her defence was undisputed quite as much from attachment as fromsheer amazement. The preacher had, on the apparition of the tall ladyin black with the lightly waving crape streamers and mantle, expecteda rescue from insult and violence, but a warning to depart; and hisamazement was great when she took a position in advance of the rabblerout, and signed to him to go on.
He was a man above the average of his class, and his discourse wasconsiderably affecting Angela, when down the lane from BlackstoneGulley came Robina, Stella, Bernard, and Will Harewood, showing Mr. andMrs. Lamb the beauties of the country.
'Holloa, what's the row? A fellow jawing away somewhere!' quoth Bernard.
'I thought you had no dissenters here, Robina,' said Mrs. Lamb.
'No more we have,' stoutly affirmed Robina, in spite of the strangevoices on the blast.
'What's that?'
'An obliging mission from our neighbour.'
'Soon to be refuted by our boys,' added Bernard, 'most likely a cricketball is flying at his bumptious head by this time! Hollo there!'
For he turned the corner and stood in blank amaze.
Alice tittered.
Robina and Stella were prepared for anything from Angela.
Even Will only perpetrated a long whistle, and the observation 'This iscoming it strong.'
Bernard's measures were more decisive. After the first shock he marchedforward with the peremptory admonition, 'Come, my man, be off with you,we allow none of this here.'
The young man stood his ground. 'By what authority Sir?'
'I'll soon show you--I say--You here, little Pryde, run down and tellthe policeman to step up.'
'Stay Bernard,' exclaimed Will, 'this is nothing the police caninterfere with.'
'Don't tell me that, canting and ranting here on our ground,' criedBernard, with a fine development of the insolence of the lord of thesoil. 'Pity you're a parson, Bill (and Lamb a sheep),' he added underhis breath, 'or we'd have a jolly good shindy. All you're good for isto walk off the ladies. Here, Angel, you mad party, go with him, I say,the joke has lasted long enough.'
'I shall not move, Bernard, I am here to protect this good man frominsult.'
'I tell you 'tis the very way to make me insult the impudent scoundrelto see you standing there among the rabble, making a spectacle ofyourself.'
'Neither you nor any one else will touch him while I am here,' saidAngela, heroically moving nearer the preacher, and further from herbrother. 'He is giving us the message that is too much obscured, and Iwill not have him silenced. I only wish you would listen! Go on, if youplease.'
But the unwonted style of this interruption had disconcerted the ardentmissionary more than unlimited rotten eggs could have done. The younglady's presence, though embarrassing, had been stimulating; but whenthree gentlemen, including a clergyman, were added to the audience, allhis confidence in his mission could not bring back his eloquence, and,addressing himself to Angela, his only attentive hearer, he said, 'Thetenor of our discourse has been interrupted; thank you, Miss, we willresume on a more favourable occasion.'
'When I'll bring down the garden engine,' muttered Bernard, clutchingin vain at his sister as she stepped forward to shake hands with thepreacher and say, 'We are greatly obliged to you, and I am sorry youshould have been so interfered with.'
William, premising that he was not the parish priest, turned towalk with the amateur in his own profession, as much because he wascurious about this phase of life as to see him courteously off theground--while Bernard was scolding and deriding Angela on what hedeemed her most monstrous aberration of all, and Angela marching on,impervious alike to displeasure and ridicule. Mrs. Lamb was trying tocondole with Robina, and Robina was coolly stating that Angela wasquite justified in using her influence to prevent the man from beingassaulted.
The fame of Mr. Froggatt's state-dinner party and of another on behalfof Mr. Bruce had reached Mrs. Lamb, and, on the strength of it, shehad freshly trimmed her wedding dress, and was greatly aggrieved tofind her labour lost; disregarding her husband's representations of therecent bereavements and Mr. Underwood's state of health, and insistingon attributing the slight by turns to Geraldine's spite, and to themeanness that hindered the family from enjoying their fortune when theyhad got it.
Though Geraldine had withheld this indulgence, aware that a long latedinner would be a great fatigue to Felix, she believed in dilution, andhad arranged to gratify her guest so far as to take this opportunity ofinviting one or two Ewmouth families who hardly ever had a day in thecountry except what they spent at Vale Leston, and whom it would havebeen almost unkind to deprive of their summer treat.
So on Monday afternoon there was a gathering on the lawn largeenough to be a formidable spectacle to at least one pair of eyes inthe Kittiwake's gig as she came up the river, and to evoke a strongexpletive from a mouth whose fringes were grizzled enough for it tohave learnt to be less impulsive.
'Can't be helped, skipper. Come on,' laughed the joyous youth at theprow in the ease of summer attire. 'What, hasn't your domesticationproceeded further? One would think you were the one newly caught fromthe bush.'
'I shall set you ashore and come back at dark when the bear fight isover.'
'Not a bit of it! See here she comes, the little darling Star, blessher,' as over the wire netting, that guarded the croquet balls from theriver, sprang the little figure attracted by the well-known boat.
'Oh! I'm so sorry,' was her apologetic cry to the captain, thenstopping short, the bright colour flew to her cheeks.
'Well you may, to have such a mob to receive what I've brought you,my pretty. Yes, yes, no mistake about him,' as Charlie bounded to herside; 'but what's this? who's this big fellow in the yellow beard? Didyou ever see anybody l
ike him? He looks as much astounded as you.'
'You didn't say it was Stella!' ejaculated the tall, powerful personagedesignated. 'She was just toddling when I went out.'
'You're Fulbert then!' she said, looking up as she was folded in a bigbrotherly embrace.
'Yes, to be sure, you pretty little thing. I declare you are a beautyafter all! And who's this?'
'I can't expect to be remembered,' said the white-whiskered sunburntclergyman in a broad shady hat and green shade over his eyes.
'But I think I remember your voice,' said Stella, 'Oh how glad mybrother will be!'
'And Lance, is he here?' cried Fulbert, eagerly.
'No, but every one else is at home.'
'At home! I believe so,' grumbled Captain Audley. 'I thought myselfsecure from launchings out this year.'
'It is only the Colmans and Strachans and Parkers, just to amuse Mrs.Lamb. I did not warn you, for I thought you were yachting to-day.'
'I was on board, going to sail this morning, when I got a telegram fromCharlie, and just as I expected him to turn up, who should drop in butthese two, fresh from Liverpool. Charles, this one, I mean, not _ours_,thought it best not to startle my mother, and came here first, so Ibrought them over as soon as they had eaten a mouthful, and now I'lltake a cruise up the river till it is all quiet.'
'O no, please don't be so unkind,' pleaded Stella. 'I'll take you to mybrother in his study without coming across anybody. He went in as soonas we began to play at croquet. Here, through the laburnum path.'
She led him by the hand in a passive condition, highly amusing to hisson and brother, and Fulbert followed in a state of bewilderment.
'What an exquisite place!' exclaimed the elder Charles, catching sightof the cloister through the trees. 'What a treat to see old walls! Itis like Oxford.'
'Pretty?' said Fulbert, 'I can't think how any one can stand beingcramped up by all these walks and enclosures!' and indeed his greatrobust swinging step seemed to spurn them. 'All well?' he asked.
'Doesn't he know?' said Stella, pausing and touching her crape.
'Yes, yes, my dear,' said Captain Audley, 'they understand all that.'
'But Fulbert is more than half lost,' said the uncle, 'and for my ownpart I can't realise this as your home.'
'I shall be glad to get to Bexley,' sighed Fulbert. 'However the elderones can't be so altered! I should know old Fee anywhere!'
They had reached the house, and Stella left them in the hall, sayingshe would find Felix. Fulbert would have followed her, but was detainedby the captain, with the words, 'She knows best. I told you he hadnever been quite the thing since.'
Fulbert stood still gazing in amaze at the lofty dark oak hall andbroad staircase so utterly unlike the narrow entry that had beenhome to him, but the study door opened and forth came a figure withoutstretched hands, bright face, and glad welcome. 'Ful! Dear old boy,come at last!' and the boyish handclasp of departure was an eager kissof greeting between the men. 'Mr. Audley! My great wish! Do the othersknow? Have you seen Cherry?'
'I'll send her in,' quoth the captain, and rushing off in hisexcitement and hatred of scenes, he marched into the thick of the fray,where Cherry, amid mammas and Hepburns under the cedar, was astonishedby a voice in her ear, 'Your brother and mine are in the study, go tothem. I'll take the teapot.'
'Your brother?'
'Charles. Eyes brought him home--Fulbert with him. Good morning; you'llexcuse Miss Underwood: her brother from Australia.'
Cherry could only gasp something about pardon, relinquish her teapotto the valiant skipper, snatch up Lord Gerald and hurry off at herswiftest pace, finding, under the appropriate shade of the orange-treeat the conservatory door, Charlie and Stella. 'Oh! it was not you hemeant,' was her inhospitable greeting.
'No, no. The Charles worth having _is_ here, and Fulbert. We are goneto look up the rest.'
This did not look much like it, but Cherry stumped on, and came insight of the three in the hall, still silent in the first wonder, Felixwith one hand on the table, gazing at the new comers in silent extasy,while they looked as if scarcely able to speak under the shock of hisappearance--those wasted enlarged features, that transparent pallorwith the grey shades round mouth, eyes and temples, the figure thatlost elastic slenderness without gaining strength, and the hair thinnedthough still shining. Cherry was used to it, but she saw how it hadstartled them, and that all three were like men in a dream, which shebroke by her cry of--'Fulbert, Fulbert! Mr. Audley! Oh! Felix, is notthis joy?'
Fulbert started round, relieved at his first real recognition, and hisbig arms were round her, his great beard sweeping her cheeks. 'Cherry!you at last! Little Cherry! But you've not got a proper crutch.'
'So much the better,' said Mr. Audley, amused at the complaint, 'she isa stronger little body than when you left her.'
'And where did you drop from?' Felix was the first to ask.
All was quickly explained, Fulbert keeping hold of his sister all thetime. Mr. Audley's eyes had suddenly failed him, and the doctor hadurged his going home at once if he hoped to save them. Fulbert, whohad long been meditating a run home, resolved to see him safe throughthe voyage, and thus they had set forth suddenly, preceding their ownletters. The inflammation of the eyes had subsided, and they weresomewhat better. 'Though,' said the owner, 'I hope it is their faultthat you look so altered, Felix.'
'He will soon get back his looks,' said Cherry. 'He is ever so muchbetter. You heard.'
'Yes,' said Fulbert, 'Captain Audley told us. Poor little Theodore. Theonly wonder is that he lived so long--Who comes there?'
'You know me, Fulbert.'
'Wilmet? Yes, only grown grander than ever. But bless me! I thoughtthey told me. No--Lance isn't here, and couldn't have got like that.Who is it, I say?'
'Have you forgotten little Bear?'
'Great Bear, rather,' said Mr. Audley. 'You've made good use of yourtime, Bernard!'
'Oh! here's _the_ long lad,' said Felix. 'You'll not mistake him.'
'Aye! I should know Tina,' said Fulbert. 'He always did look theparson. Who's missing now--Robina?'
'Robin is here! Oh Ful, Ful, you're very big, but your face is justlike the old times when you used to clamber up the timbers in the yard!'
'That's right, Bob! Now I begin to believe I'm come home. You're asjolly as ever.'
Just then a shout of 'Mother!' and a vigorous patter of boots endedin the bouncing in of two red curly mops of hair, whose owners werepursuing a squabble of 'I will' and 'I won't,' and pulling at theopposite ends of a string as they charged against Wilmet, in loudappeal and protest. 'Softly, softly, Kester, Eddy, look at your uncle!'was the motherly unperturbed rebuke, a hand on each shoulder, 'There'syour uncle Fulbert. Oh Kester, right hands.'
'Never mind,' said Fulbert, not more eager for the greeting than thetwo nephews, who began again, 'Mother, make Eddy'--'Mother, Kesterwon't'--and reeled out of the room still twisted up in the string,Wilmet after them. 'Like a pair of puppies in leash,' said Felix.
'How many are there?'
'These two, and a little girl.'
Then came a sound, not without sweetness, though still awhine--'Cherie! I want Cherie, O Cherie, they've got my lasso,' andtottering and shuffling in came the little black figure with the whiteface and clung to her. Both travellers started. 'I thought they saidTheodore--No, he'd be bigger,' exclaimed Fulbert.
'It is Gerald, poor Edgar's boy,' said Felix. 'Here, Gerald, here isanother brother of your father--and here's a dear old friend.'
The delicate hand held out by Gerald was as unlike as possible to thebrown puggy paws of his cousins, but he entreated still 'Don't let themhave my lasso, Cherie. It's grass, and Fernan gave it me!'
'I'll come, Gerald dear, I'll get them some whipcord--I must go back tothe people; I hope they'll soon be merciful and go--Oh! the heart'sjoy of having seen those two!--Yes, dear boy, I'm coming, I'll takecare they don't take it away.'
'Cherry and her master!' said Bernard.
&nbs
p; 'Blissful bondage,' said Felix. 'Have you seen them all yet, Fulbert?No--where's Angel?'
'Little Pryde has chopped his finger with a reap-hook, and she's goneoff with Miss Bridget to see about it,' returned Clement. 'Suppose wewalk and meet them, Ful--Felix will have his talk with Mr. Audley.'
And Robina and Bernard departed to the game, while Felix led his friendinto the study, saying in exultation, 'Our Cherry looks a heartierwoman than ever we expected, does she not?'
'Wonderfully improved. I only wish I could say the same of you! Is thisthe effect of the accident?' as Felix, having placed an arm-chair forMr. Audley, subsided into his manifestly invalid resting place.
'I believe so. But how about your eyes?'
'That is what I cannot tell. They have mended since I have given upreading or writing, but I durst not accept the Bishopric till I knewwhether they would be serviceable.'
'Albertstown?'
'Yes, I've been offered it. Any way, I should have had to come home;and it was very good in Fulbert to come and take care of me.'
'An unspeakable delight and gift to have you both!' said Felix, 'Mostthankworthy!' he added almost to himself, 'how good in you to have cometo us!'
'More pleasure than goodness. My mother hates surprises and shocks,so I had the day to spare, and I longed to see your domains. What adelicious place! Not even Cherry's sketches made me understand thecharm.'
'We have so much to show you! You will think me absurd about it, but Iown I never see anything comparable to it.'
'I shan't think you absurd! Imagine what this room, with its air of ageand quaintness of carving, is to a man who has seen nothing venerablethese thirteen years.'
'And our church. But that you must not see without our Vicar.'
'I hope to give thanks for our return there. Robert said he would giveus all the evening here. How much good you have done him. I think hisadoration of little Stella is quite equal to Charlie's.'
Felix smiled faintly. 'Ah! you seem to have come to help us anent thataffair! I am very glad to be able to put it into your hands.'
'I'm afraid they are not very influential.'
'At least they belong to a head that can be trusted,' said Felix,smiling. 'I'm not sure the poor lad ought to be here to-day.'
'I fancy he gathered hopes from Lady Liddesdale which he thinks justifyhim,' said the uncle. 'Should you consent if he got a secretaryship atthe Embassy?'
'I should feel as if one of my greatest cares was relieved! I havetried to do right in the matter, but it is a hard one. I should bethankful indeed to see my little one cleared from this perplexity,and I begin to trust I shall. Everything seems to be so remarkablysmoothing itself, as it were winding itself up.'
'Felix, I don't understand your tone. I can't see you distinctly, but Iam sure more is amiss with you than Robert told me.'
'I was on the verge of bleeding to death after the accident,' saidFelix, 'and I fancy the treatment I am going through keeps me low.'
'Treatment, what for?'
In a few technical words he repeated what he had told Gertrude.
'You speak with certainty!' exclaimed his friend.
'No, it is too much out of reach. They are trying to disperse it,and if that cannot be done, there would be a fight of strength ofconstitution. It seems to me hardly to get better or worse since themere muscular strain passed off, only paining me on provocation, andtelling chiefly in weakness and lassitude. It is curious how everythingin my life seems drawing to a point, so that somehow I feel as if Iwere permitted to bind up my sheaves. Here is poor Edgar's fate certainso as to enable me to make arrangements about the property, and hischild to be Cherry's object, making me far happier about her. And hereyou are; I have longed to pray for your being here to help us both whenthe crisis comes. You will?'
'I will! I will. So far as I dare to promise!'
'Remember. She knows nothing of this, only Clement. I could not getalong without him. Poor Clem! Do you remember how we used to laugh athim? You will marvel at the strength and wisdom that have grown upin him. I rejoice to have come to such dependence on the brother Iunderstood and perhaps liked least, and it is the same with Cherry. Shehas learnt to lean on him.'
'More than on Lance?'
'Lance, our lark and our sunshine! Dear Lance, I think he may havea home of his own, but his affairs are not yet susceptible ofdiscussion,' said Felix, smiling. 'Altogether, I have been strangelyblessed in these brothers and sisters of mine. The love and affectionI have had from them, the willing loyalty that has been the spirit ofthem all, strike me as wonderful.'
'Wonderful, because those who do most are generally the worst requited.'
'And now, the dear little fellow is taken whom I could least have borneto leave,' added Felix. 'The missing him was very sore to me at first,but I am glad now. All were good to him, but it was effort to all butStella and myself, and even with Stella it could not have gone on.There are only two for whom I have real anxieties, and there is goodstuff in both.'
'Alda?'
'I was not thinking of her. She never seemed my charge like the rest.No, Angela and Bernard, but so much has righted itself that I havethe more faith. I believe Bear may be all the better for losing hisdependence on me. He wants to be forced into manhood.'
'Felix, I wonder whether you are right in thus giving yourself up. Itmakes me doubt if I ought to have left you alone to the charge. It musthave gone very hard with you.'
'Not at all. I have had my full share of happiness. A most happy,peaceful family, and latterly in this delightful place! my first,dearest home, the spot I must always have loved best! and Cherry!Truly, too, both here and at Bexley, I have had that blessing ofJoseph, whatever I have done, the Lord hath made it to prosper. Youleft me Mr. Froggatt's assistant, I think, and each step since has beenno small enjoyment in itself.'
'Yet you are content that all this should end! Your father was, buthis had been a sadder, more laborious, unsuccessful life, and I ownI marvel at you, so fresh in this position, with life before you--Youare--?'
'Thirty-four this last July.'
'That is early youth to most men.'
'No doubt something is due to the perpetual weariness and "donothingness" that belong to the complaint, and make me feel gettingdone with it all. Soon I shall free myself of being rector here,the endowment of East Ewmouth is settled, the building begins inthe spring. A long minority will right the estate, and work off itsburthens, and I have had unexpected opportunities of putting things intrain; but if I go on, the task of making both ends meet must continuehard. I suppose recovery would bring back zest and vigour, but as Iam now, it is like a lame horse at grass, shrinking from a return tothe load, the mire and the ruts, and the assurances of rest acquire asweetness they never had before. If I had only done my part fully, andcould say to my father, 'Behold me and the children thou hast givenme!' but when I count my hundred thousand errors, and remember whatmakes up for them, it seems little if the last passage should be a hardone, as I suppose it will. Oh!' breaking off short, 'I should not haverun on like this. It must be the worst thing for your eyes.'
'This is an odd way of helping you,' said Mr Audley, struggling forcomposure. 'I ought to be thankful to see you like this, but I amselfishly disappointed. I had reckoned on seeing you in the prime ofyour usefulness and honors, and happiness.'
'Here's plenty of happiness,' returned Felix, with his brightest smile;'and I've not yet given up the uses nor the honors of Squire Underwood.In fact, I hear the carriages coming, and must go and see the peopleoff. Will that serve for honors? it would have seemed like them twelveyears ago.'
Uneasy about the eyes that had been swimming in perilous tears, hecontinued, changing his tone from the thoughtful to the lively: 'It isour only entertainment this year, of course, but I was forced to haveLamb here on business, and we thought it would please his wife.'
'Is she?'
'Yes, Alice Knevett. Prettier than ever,' he answered. 'Will you comeout, or shall I leave you for these fe
w minutes?'
The longing to watch him prompted Mr. Audley to follow him, though withlittle mind to face any one, and in a few moments it hardly seemedcredible that the man who had been speaking of carrying the sentenceof death within himself was the same who was so cheerfully and easilygoing through the friendly courtesies of a host--pausing with a facefull of quiet humour to point out Captain Audley acting beneficentrover, though it was his first time of touching a mallet since he hadbeen a guardsman, and croquet a novelty of high life.
Here too came the introduction to Major Harewood, never seen before,and the Reverend William, last seen as Lance's shock-headed friend,a terror to Wilmet and Cherry, and frightening the babies with hismesmerism.
It was still light enough for the grand tour, and Felix, though leaningand resting at every pause, would not be denied the going through thewhole, showing it off with a kind of affectionate exultation ratherincreased than diminished since the day of taking possession. Thecharacter of the place had altered a good deal since that day when hehad first seen it. It must be owned that some of the perfect trimnessof turf and shrubbery had gone, and that some stable windows werebroken, and their yard grass-grown, and the Vicarage Sunday schoolhad an aspect which thirteen colonial years could not prevent thebaronet's son from feeling at first sight a little disreputable. Thehalf-finished Rectory of the future, where the Curate for whom Clementwas advertising was to live, was on the glebe land on the other side ofthe church. Altogether, the house and grounds might be in less daintyorder; but there was a look of life about every window, and the lawnwas glowing with the bright tints of geraniums and verbenas, whiledog, cat, kittens, and doves, to say nothing of the human creatures,imparted an air of gladness and animation, and the Virginian creeper onthe cloister hung like a magnificent purple curtain over the scene. Thedreary deserted aspect of church and churchyard which had at first sodisheartened Clement was entirely gone, and the last September lightsand shades showed themselves on tower and pinnacle, and gleamed onstained glass as somehow sunshine _does_ seem to fall on what is lovedand prized, as if inanimate things responded to affection.
In the part of the cloister wall that lay within the churchyardprecincts were two or three memorials of Underwoods who did not lieburied there, and to these Felix had added a brass cross with aninscription bearing the names of Edward Underwood and Mary Wilmet hiswife. Mr. Audley looked at these earnestly, marvelling all the more athis friend's resolute content in his exclusion from this lovely spot,and from thence he was led to the little grave, now marked with a whitemarble cross, bearing on the foot the word 'Ephphatha.' What bettercould have been wished for that little helpless being? Fulbert was ofcourse more interested in the willow tree. He swung himself over thebank and calculated the height with wonder, demanding of Felix howthe feat had been possible to him. 'I can't tell,' answered he, 'Ihave wondered since. It was very foolish of me not to have done likeCharlie. He was the hero.'
'Ah! Charlie is a regular fish, at home in the water or out,' said hisfather, well pleased.
And they looked at the 'fish,' who was standing a little way off,with Stella beside him, with down-cast eyes. He had made two attemptsalready to pour out his plans on Felix, who had cruelly answered thathe could listen to nothing till the examination was over, and consentgained, and ruthlessly cut him off from all private interviews, notchoosing to give anything that could be construed into the most tacitencouragement--but not able to find it in his heart to interfere withthe present enjoyment, though it was not in the bond.
As to the church, now brought to all the glory that reverent hands,careful taste, and well-judged expenditure could give it, the contrastwas not small from the dreary bepewed building, and all its nativebeauties were unobscured or renovated. Very happy were Clement andCherry in pointing them out one by one, and telling the story of thefragments whose forms had guided the restoration, and Felix sat by ona bench, enjoying the evening mystery of soft darkness as it fell onthe archings and vaultings, and putting in his word now and then in thepleasant history of the four years' work.
'Yes, Felix, I do congratulate you! Nay, more! I shall give thanks forwhat I have seen to-day,' said Mr. Audley in a low voice, as they wentto robe for even-song.
And Felix added, 'Thank you. But pray for me, too.'
It was well he had an appreciative admirer for his dear Vale Leston inMr. Audley, for Fulbert, untrained in antiquities, and with colonial'_nil admirari_' ways, did not enter into the charms of grey walls,nor understand ecstasies over the proportions of arches, while evenin the house, he agreed with Mrs. Lamb that oak wainscot was dismallydark, and that the furniture was worn and old-fashioned. He could notfeel at home. 'It was all very fine perhaps,' he said, 'but it didn'tseem natural,' and he eagerly accepted the Lambs' invitation to returnwith them to Bexley. 'I can't help it,' he apologized, 'I'll soon comeback, but I shall not know I'm at home till I've seen Lance and the oldhouse. It's all different here, and you are all grown such swells, andthe little ones are so big, and Blunderbore looks as if he had beenlost for a month in the bush, and I sha'n't get my bearings till I'vebeen down to the old place, and seen Lance and the fellows there.'
So almost as suddenly as they had come, the Australian visitorsvanished, leaving behind them only the security that they were withinreach. Captain Audley went with his son and brother, and quiet wasleft to prevail at Vale Leston. The first break was a message broughtin the forenoon to the study, where Felix saw to letters and attendedto business more slowly and with more pauses and effort, but not lesseffectively than heretofore. 'Miss Hepburn would be glad to speak toyou, sir.'
'Which Miss Hepburn, Amelia?'
'Miss Isabella, sir.'
'She has found _this_ out, and is going to exhort me as she tried to doto Lance,' thought Felix, as he desired that she should be admitted,and with some masculine perverseness, not only rose to greet her, butplaced himself in a common upright chair to listen to her. He foundhimself mistaken, she had not come to speak to him on his own account.
'You are aware, Mr. Underwood, that from one cause and another, we havehad some influence with dear Angela, more I fear than has been quitepalatable.'
'In some ways you have done her a great deal of good,' said Felix,wondering what was coming.
'Nay, not pot-sherds like ourselves, but the way we have beenprivileged to point to her, dear child, but I am glad you think so. Ifancied that you were all in opposition.'
'I think,' said Felix, 'that the poor child had got into a state ofunreality and self-deceit, and that after the shock of last springyour kindness helped her to the true foundations which she had somehowmissed.'
It must have been a temptation to Miss Isabella to enlarge on thedanger of concealing that true Foundation, but she had a point andpurpose, and besides, the Squire looked as little in need of beingtaught where to find that Verity as any one she had ever met in abiography, so she went on, 'It was, I am thankful to believe, trueconversion, and the dear child is indeed a sincere Christian, but youngpeople are so enthusiastic.'
'She is excitable, and sure to go to the utmost length in whatever shedoes,' said Felix, beginning to expect to hear of the ranting.
He was right. Miss Isabella wished him to be aware that she and hersisters had done their utmost to withhold Angela from rushing out. Hereplied that he was not afraid it would occur again. William Harewoodhad talked to the man, and thought him disconcerted, and likely tocarry his ministrations where there was more neglect. However, MissHepburn explained that this was an offshoot of a great revival whichthe Plymouth brethren were organizing at Ewmouth. One of their greatlights, a merchant captain who had given up everything for religion,was about to preach, and Angela had set her heart on hearing him. Histracts had been widely diffused among the Miss Hepburn's friends, andthe warfare about disseminating them in the village was still recent.Angela, who had once made holocausts of as many as she could capture,was now their ardent admirer, and had insisted on making part of theaudience of their author. Now the Mi
ss Hepburns would as soon, nosooner, have gone to the opera as to a dissenting chapel, and therehad been a vehement argument, resulting in their pupil declaring herintention of going with a farmer's widow who liberally hovered betweenVale Leston Church one half of the day and Ewmouth chapel the other.
It was shocking to Clan Hepburn to think of forsaking theEstablishment, and even more so to imagine an Underwood, a lady, aclergyman's daughter and sister, at a revivalist tea-meeting in adissenting chapel, and in full council they had decided that it wouldbe unjustifiable not to warn the head of the family, and absolutelyconniving at the monstrous proceeding.
'Thank you sincerely,' said Felix: 'it shall be put a stop to.'
'I sincerely hope that may be possible,' said the lady, 'but where thedear child thinks her conscience is at stake, she is far too regardlessof remonstrance.'
Felix smiled, having found this the case whether her conscience were atstake or not.
The encounter must be fought out, not on Miss Isabella's grounds buton his own. He knew it must have come some day. He had not spoken aserious word to her since she had rejected his consolation two daysafter the accident, and knowing that she was under other guidance, hehad not interfered, feeling less equal than ever to a war of words withthe perverse and perplexing girl.
How near the conflict was he did not know till at dinner, when onBernard's asking her to pull up the river with him, Angela replied thatshe was going to drink tea with Mrs. Lake.
This was one of the gracious acts performed from time to time, butit sounded enough like a subterfuge to make Felix feel grieved andindignant, but he held his peace, and so did Clement, while Robinaexclaimed, 'Almost my last evening, Angel!' And Cherry laughinglyaccused her of devotion to Mrs. Lake's elderberry-wine. Colouring deepcrimson, Angela burst forth in a combative tone, 'Well, I suppose I maygo where I like.'
'O, yes, my dear,' said Bernard, 'to meet that nice young man, who washolding forth on Sunday. Only, when it is a fixed affair let me know,and I'll have a suit of tar and feathers in readiness.'
Angela's neck was burning by this time, and she crumbled her breadsavagely.
'Is the party in his house?' whispered Will to Robina.
But no one took up Bernard's remark, all feeling that the mattercould not be made game of, and when they rose, Felix said, 'Angela, Iwant you in the study.' She could not choose but obey, and before shewas fairly in the room, or the door closed, made another outburst,'Brother, I have no intention of deceiving you; I only did not chooseto have it out before Bernard and all in the middle of dinner.'
Felix, in his slow careful manner, deposited himself in the Squire'schair, and said, 'Sit down, Angela.'
'No, thank you, I have not time. I only came that you may see I am notdeceiving you. I am going with Mrs. Lake to hear Captain Gudgeon,' shereplied, with a glow in her cheeks and a gesture as of noble defiance,somewhat disturbed by his extreme gentleness.
'You had better sit down, my dear,' he said.
This actually put an end to her war-dance. She seated herself, buttried to resume her challenge by saying, 'I shall be at home longbefore ten.'
'Certainly,' said Felix, quietly, 'you will.'
'You understand that I really mean it?'
'No doubt you do at this moment, but I forbid you to do any such thing.'
'I acknowledge no commands superior to conscience,' she said. 'I havemade my appointment.'
'That I will arrange for you.'
'You can't.'
'The pony-carriage is coming round at three, and I shall go and explainto Mrs. Lake that you remain at home by my desire.'
Mrs. Lake's farm was at the end of a lane all stones and ruts, and itwas well known in the family that nothing hurt Felix so much as a jolt.
'No! no! You can't think of it,' cried Angela.
'I shall walk over the worst places,' he said.
'And that's the whole! Felix, pray don't!'
'I must, unless you will submit otherwise.'
'That's taking an unfair advantage,' she said, with tears of anger inher eyes. 'You know it is leaving me no choice.'
'Thank you. That is very kind. You had better take that pen and paperand write to Mrs. Lake.'
'You know your power,' she said, petulantly. 'If you were well, I wouldtry it to the uttermost!'
With a fraction of a smile he said, 'We will talk it over when yournote is written, but it is hard to let poor Mrs. Lake butter hermuffins all the afternoon in vain.'
This view of preparations for a tea-party made Angela smile a littlealso, and that did her good. She sat down at the table, and hastilywrote--
DEAR MRS. LAKE,
I am sorry to say I am prevented from joining you to-night.
Yours, with great regret, A.M. UNDERWOOD.
She showed the billet to Felix, who made no objection, but rang, andgave orders for its despatch.
'Thank you, Angel,' he said. 'I do not scruple to avail myself of yourconsideration for my side, because, as long as my authority over youlasts, I am resolved to prevent you by any means in my power from doingwrong.'
'You know I have ceased to think with you on that point,' said Angela,not without hopes of extorting permission after all.
'I know you have, but you are young enough to be prevented fromcommitting an open act of schism before you have grown wiser.'
'You speak as if I wanted to become an out-and-out dissenter, when Ionly wish to hear a man whose writings have done so much for my soul,which was starving--yes, starving before.'
'Perhaps sleeping would be the fitter word.'
'Sleeping or starving, it comes to the same. Forms, routine, andordinances assumed to be everything, and did me no good--how couldthey? And in the awakening! Oh, brother, would that I could make youunderstand the joy--the ecstasy of looking straight up to my Saviour,and the incomparableness of what brightens and quickens that gaze. Thenyou could never try to keep me back for mere forms and distinctions!'
'Nay,' said Felix, gravely but fervently, 'it is because I _do_--Ihope--love and look up to my most blessed Lord and Master, that I canpermit nothing that rends and breaks the Unity of His Body, which Hegave us to guard and cherish here.'
'Unity is not external--it is only in the spiritual Church of thefaithful, in their hearts. It is I who want to keep it.'
'By going to those who have parted asunder from us?'
'I never said I was going over--only to hold out a hand offellowship--to hear and learn.'
'I'm afraid your hand of fellowship is hardly strong enough to unitethe two bodies, Angela. Don't you think it might end in your being ledcaptive, like certain silly women we have heard of--ever learning andnever coming to a knowledge of the truth. That is what I want to savemy sister from.'
'Then it is Wilmet's old "what it may lead to!"'
'Exactly, her old wisdom. See, Angela, I cannot tell how long I mayhave any authority; at any rate you will be of age in a few weeks,and then I do not know what you may do, for there is something verydangerous in your passion for excitement. I have thought a great dealabout you, my poor Angel, for yours is the disposition that has alwaysmade me the most anxious of all, especially since the shock that hascast you loose from your old bearings; but all I can do, while I amstill responsible for you, is to restrain you as far as possible, bothbecause I think going among schismatics wrong in itself, and because Ihope the delay may give you time to be steadied, and to perceive thatthe Divine appointments of the Church are not darkenings, but lamps offaith.'
'I think you are in earnest, Felix,' said Angela. 'Miss Isa says youand Lance _are_ true Christians in spite of it all! Tell me honestlynow. Your objection is not because it is unladylike, not fit for SquireUnderwood's sister.'
He laughed, 'Really that never occurred to me.'
'Then I don't mind. I say, did Miss Isa put you up to this? Yes? Ican't understand. It was she who first opened my eyes to the light, andta
ught me what true Christianity is, showing me the hollowness of allI had lived in, and bringing me from darkness to light. It was she whogave me Captain Gudgeon's books. They are beautiful. Will you look atthem?'
'Very well.'
'She does not think, like you, of what you call schism, only of itsnot being proper for ladies. She says we can read at home, as if thatwere like living words, and that we ought not to mix with "that kind ofpeople," as she calls them. I can't understand such worldly nonsense ina person like her.'
'Many people let the world get a curious grip of their conscience,'said Felix. 'Perhaps we who have lived so long beneath the line don'testimate the strength of scruple, but in this case it may be well thateven inferior motives should prevent the breaking their Communion withthe Church.'
'You think that outward Communion preferable to an enlightened spirit.There we differ.'
'No, Angela. The soul must have life and enlightenment, or else it islike one asleep in the midst of a feast, under a lamp, but there is nosure way of keeping up that life and light except by the means and inthe union our Blessed Lord appointed.'
'Then comes the question, how do you know that these means, preciselyin your own way, are what He meant?'
'By unbroken historical evidence of the Church universal--by the Saintsthat have been formed through them. Nay, shall I say it, Angela, bypersonal experience ever since I can remember. I can no more doubt ofthe grace, comfort, and strength imparted through them than I do of therefreshment of food or of air.'
'Tell me, if you don't mind, a little more precisely what you mean.'
'I mean so far this, that a perplexing question, when taken there,is apt afterwards to clear itself. One sees the way to what seemedimpossible, and I am also sure that one's first impulses in unexpectedtrials become much safer and more trustworthy under the influence onethen imbibes. How should they not?'
'That's not the heart, it's all outward,' said Angela, impatiently.
'Nay, is not the outward action connected with the abundance of theheart? As to the rest, my dear Angel, I don't think anything that I cansay will express the blessing except "O _taste_ and see how graciousthe Lord is!" What would life or death be worth without it?' And hisface spoke more than his words.
'Well,' said Angela. 'No good came to me till I banished those thingsaway, and knew my load of sin, and Who has taken it. I can't bearanything between Him and me.'
'Nor I,' said Felix. 'Angela, my dear, are you sure your discovery isnot exactly what our old way was meant to teach you?'
She hung her head. He had enough experience of her to know thatpressing her was useless, so he leant back giving way to his fatigue,and she sat on playing with a paper-knife, till at last she said,'Brother, do you remember my scalding you?'
'Certainly.'
'When I would not let you pardon me, and you didn't want to.'
'Rather oddly put, but I remember.'
'Well!' coming and kneeling by him, 'I terribly crave for pardon now.'
'My poor Angel,' as he tenderly kissed her brow, and as she rested iton the arm of his chair, stroked her fair hair. Presently there came upa sort of choked whisper, 'for isn't it worse than we thought?'
'May be so, Angel, but you know that came of my own stupid choice of alanding-place, so that is my private affair.'
Her instinct had gathered more than she had been told, and her eagerwilful chase of excitement and defiance of Clement had been the vainresource of a sadly foreboding, half-broken heart, dwelling vehementlyon the whole mass of past sins, as if putting them in one vague heapdulled the unbearably acute sense of the one act of vain flightinessthat had produced such consequences, and now, though she guessed enoughto be unwilling to agitate him, the comfort of the avowal and of hiscaress was infinite.
He partly perceived how it was, and waited a little before saying, 'Ilook to you as my great help if this comes to anything. You are thefamily nurse.'
'Oh!' she came still closer, and presently said, 'please tell me justwhat it is; it can't be worse than guessing.'
He told her.
'I thought so,' she said, and still knelt with her head against hischair for a long, long time, till the door was opened and Clement camein, not seeing her, as she sat on the ground on the further side.
'The pony-carriage is come round; but here's a pretty business. It isall over the parish that Angela is going with Mrs. Lake to Gudgeon'sconventicle. Halloa!'
'How can you come and upset Felix?' was Angela's cry as she sprang toher feet.
'Gently, Angel,' said Felix, laughing; 'don't be so like Tabby guardingher kitten from Scamp: Clem is tolerably aware by this time of whatdoes me harm. She has been very good to me, Clem; she has given it upto please me.'
'Because I should have been a brute if I had not,' said Angela. 'Mind,Clement, I'm not convinced! I should like to have fought it out,but----' her dignity quite gave way, 'I don't care. I can't vex him,there--I nev-er, never will!' And she dashed away, struggling with sobs.
'A dangerous undertaking, if it were likely to last longer,' saidFelix; 'but even while it does, the restraint may be wholesome.'
'Then you have stopped this?'
'Miss Isabella warned me. One good thing is that the good ladies'opposition was on motives that rather sap her faith in them.'
'Does she know about you?'
'She had nearly found out already. Nature designed her for a nursingsister. I rather hope she may yet turn that way, but the load of a soreheart is very heavy on her, poor child.'
'If she is getting into confidence with you, I have hope,' saidClement, sighing as if his heart were sore enough as he looked at hisbrother.
'If I can only be allowed to tide her through this searching time oftrouble and put her into better hands,' said Felix, 'I should be gladindeed; otherwise I should fear her becoming one of the ladies whodrift through every variety of exciting religion.'
From that time he submitted to be watched and waited on by Angela, withan exclusive vehemence that was almost fierce. She attended to his veryeye, and for the present so entirely centered her fervent nature uponthe 'not vexing him,' that he had to think twice before expressing themost casual and careless wish, lest she should turn everything upsidedown to gratify him.
To only one other person did Felix speak of his own state, namely,Bernard, who, as Will Harewood foretold, egregiously failed inobtaining admission to Keble College, and took his rejection with theutmost coolness, seeming to think he had made a great concession tofamily prejudice, and that now something must be found to enable himto pass through the university with the same gentleman-like ease asthrough Harrow.
Not in the least crestfallen, he stood warming his back at the studyfire, and mentioning one or two colleges whose requirements he thoughtnot unreasonable. That Felix should haggle about expense, and havedelusions that the university was meant for work, he could endure asthe innocuous thunder with which governors must be allowed to solacethemselves, while youth listened good humouredly to the growl.
The thunder, however, took an unwonted form in the quiet reply. 'Eitheryou must get a scholarship, or you cannot go to Oxford. You had betterstudy harder than you have ever done, or else turn your mind to someother maintenance. Hitherto, you have depended on me, but Gerald'sguardians will not have the same power.'
'Gerald's guardians!' he exclaimed, as the import flashed on him.'You're all right, except the old sprain!'
'I am afraid not, Bear. There is serious damage, and though I do notwish to distress any one, especially Cherry, it is right you should beprepared to get on without me, as you know I have absolutely nothing toleave you.'
'I say, is this fancy, or have you had the doctor?'
'Four.'
'Four doctors! That's enough to account for anybody thinking anythingthe matter with him. Cheer up, Squire,' and he assumed a superior airof wisdom and encouragement that made Felix look amused enough topersuade the boy of the effect of his words--'don't be croaked out ofspirits. Sprains are nasty
things, and go on no one knows how long; butI'll bet anything you like that nothing else is the matter with you butthe doctors, and poking over that desk. It's a splendid day, I thoughtof going up the river. Will you come?'
To which Felix consented, and Bernard, when repairing to Geraldine topropose her joining the party, said, 'It will be good for the Squire. Isay, what makes him so down in the mouth?'
'Of course, he is disappointed about you.'
'Pish! I didn't mean that, but about himself and the sprain.'
'I don't wonder, dear Felix!' said Cherry. 'It is very wearing to feelit at every movement, and it is depressing to be so set aside fromactive life. I only wonder at his patience.'
So Bernard continued to repose in his consoling fiction of low spirits,but he was so far amenable as to think himself 'grinding frightfullyhard' with a tutor at Ewmouth, and dislike of the said grist impelledhim to propose going out to Carrigaboola; but after a day's shootingwith him, Fulbert declined the proposal in no measured terms, whenhe had seen Master Bernard's daintiness of equipment, disgust atdifficulties, dependence on luncheon, and distaste at loading himselfwith anything that could be carried by another.
And Cherry? How did the quickest witted of all avoid the shadow of thecloud visible to so many?
Partly there was the resistance of a sensitive mind, after hosts ofimaginary panics, to a real fear--partly her brother was on his guardagainst distressing her, and often commanded his countenance, when ifalone with Clement, it would have betrayed the pang, and besides, hercharm of manner often beguiled his weariness; but above all, her wantof perception was due to her absorption in little Gerald.
The child needed careful attention, varying from day to day undera succession of petty ailments, only to be dealt with by assiduoustenderness. To train his vivid intelligence, to amuse and occupy him,to guard him from the aggressions of his cousins, and to soothe himunder pain or nervous restlessness was quite one person's work, andengrossed Cherry, whom the little fellow preferred with exclusivenessthat increased to petulance whenever he was suffering. She was seldomto be seen without him, and was always occupied with him, and herunselfish brother was content that she should thus be weaned from him,and wind her affections round another object. Yes, even though shecould no longer be entirely reckoned for Pursuivant work that _must_ bedone, and now more than ever no one could do like her; though Gerald'scall would break off her writing for him, and either she came not, orhe enjoyed only her divided attention in his walks and drives.
'It was better so,' he said, when Clement was vexed and indignant. Andtruly he was anxious enough about the frail little child to have noneof the jealousy of invalid number one towards invalid number two.
Marilda's eager, almost peremptory claim had little chance. Cherry wasalmost furious at the tone in which the warm-hearted heiress wrotedemanding the boy, as if his father had been her brother and nottheirs, and nobody could care for him save herself. If Felix had nothad more coolness, there might almost have been a breach. As it was,his grateful but decided reply that Edgar had entrusted his son tohis brothers and sisters in a manner that would not justify them inresigning the charge, so offended her that a marked silence followed.