CHAPTER XXIX.
BRYNHILD.
'Oft with anxious straining eyes We watch the coming of some joy long hoped for; And now 'tis near. But at its side a dark And stealthy thing, that we should fly like death Did we but see it, is advancing on us, Yes, step by step with those of its bright compeer.' _King Henry II., a Drama._ (_Quoted in Helps' Casimir Maremma._)
'Which is to have the precedence, Alda's child or ours?'
'Alda's child is not likely to be ready for inspection as early asours.'
'Oh! I thought you would vote it treason to babydom not to begin withLowndes Square.'
'My maternal feelings draw me the other way, you see.'
'You won't confess it to Wilmet!'
'It is of no use to go to Alda before twelve,' put in Marilda. 'Cherryhad better go to the Royal Academy before it gets full.'
It was May, and the catalogue of the Royal Academy bore--
No. 260.--Brynhild. . . . . . . . . . . . T.E. Underwood.
and a good way further on, among the water-colours,
{The Lesson } No. 601.--Four studies, {Hearing a Story } Geraldine {With the Kitten } Underwood. {Listening to Music}
No. 615.--The Faithful Acolyte . . . Geraldine Underwood.
'But abruptly turning, Hied he to the choir, Touched the Altar tapers With a flake of fire.' (_The Three Crowns._)
So, these having been accepted, Geraldine had come up to town to seethem in their place. The undertaking was far less formidable than ithad been a year ago, for Cherry was now much more at home with hercousins.
She understood Marilda better now, and reproached herself for havingtaken for worldliness what was really acquiescence rather than causeany disturbance in the family such as could worry her father, of whosestate she had been aware all that last summer. Cherry respected hernow, though they had little in common. Marilda had become too muchacclimatized to London to like country life. She made some awkwardattempts at squiress duty, but was far more in her element in heroffice, where she took on herself to attend to business so vigorously,that no one would have known there had been any change but by theinitials. Felix had been of much use to her, and had certainly gained agood deal in consideration by the manifest reliance placed on him; andhis position among the citizens of Bexley was now a fixed and settledthing.
Mrs. Underwood, in the inertness of grief, did not move from Centryuntil she was carried up to town by her strong desire to preside atLady Vanderkist's confinement. She was, however, disappointed, for LadyMary undertook the care of her daughter-in-law; but she made up for itas well as she could by permitting all the assiduities from the goodlady that Alda would endure, and being herself extremely friendly andgood-natured.
The first proposal had been that Cherry should go up with them andsee the pictures on the private day, but the east wind and flyingthreats of rheumatism had prevented this, till Marilda, running down toinspect her works at Centry, carried her off, undertaking, with betterknowledge than before, that she should be well cared for.
So here was the carriage at the door, and Edgar come to escort herto the realization of the almost incredible fact that she, as wellas himself, was an artist and exhibitor. She had heard favourableopinions, but none the less did her heart palpitate with far more ofdistress than of exultation as at a strange presumptuous unnaturalposition--she, who, while striving to be satisfied with faithfullydoing her best, had so much wished for success as to make it acontinual prayer, that the works of their hands might be prospered uponboth, and to feel it an effort honestly to add the clause, 'If it bethy will--if Thou see it good for us.'
She had not seen Edgar's picture, nor himself since the concert, andthere had been some breaths of rumour which took form in the sayingthat the absence of the family from Kensington Palace Gardens had beena sad thing for him.
However that might be, he was as much at his 'Cherie's' service asever, though with something of the forced manner she had known in himat moments of crisis, and which betrayed much anxiety. He repeatedto her many times on the way that Brynhild had been unfairly dealtwith in the hanging, and related anecdotes of injustice sufferedby whoever did not belong to favoured cliques, all which made heruneasy. Of hers he said little. She knew that water-colours at theRoyal Academy exhibition received little notice, but had obedientlyfollowed some crotchet of Mr. Renville's which had taken her thither.Trafalgar Square was then still the locality, and when the steps hadbeen surmounted, and they stood between the two doors leading to thewater-colours, it was straight on that they went, for the sight ofBrynhild was the triumph and delight that Geraldine had figured toherself for months past.
It was, as she already knew, in the second room, rather below theprivileged line; and at this early hour, the numbers of visitors wereso scanty that she could see the cocoon shaped glow of yellow flameacross the room.
'Oh! there she is! She is smaller than I thought.'
'Just what Polly said. All ladies go in for 'igh hart on the Zam zumminscale.'
She must have hurt his feelings, she saw, or he would not have comparedher criticism with Marilda's; and as she felt that he was watching hercountenance as he led her forward and lodged her opposite. From eagerexpectation her look became constrained, as it shot through her thatthis was not the Brynhild of the sketch and of her imagination. She wasdisappointed!
'Well, what?' asked Edgar impatiently, reading the countenance in spiteof all endeavours.
'How like Marilda!'
'What, Brynhild, the toad! So she would be. I suppose the caricaturedemoralized me, and the family features are the same.'
'And Sigurd is Ferdinand.'
'Nature created him for a model.'
It was not the likeness to Marilda which gave Cherry the sense ofunfulfilled expectation and dissatisfaction. The lofty expression, thedeep awe, the weird cloud-land grandeur that she had connected eitherwith the sketch or her memory of it, had passed away from the finishedoil-painting; and when she had called it small, it was not because itwas cabinet sized, but because it was wanting in the sense of majestythat can be conveyed in a gem as well as in a colossus. What was tohave been a wild scene of terror in the world of mists _would_ lookextravagant, and neither the pose of Brynhild's limbs nor the positionof Sigurd's sword, approved themselves to her eye as correct drawing.
Brother and sister were both far too acute, and too well used to readeach other's looks and tones, for fencing or disguise to be possible.
'You don't like it.'
'O Edgar!' much distressed, 'indeed there is a great deal verybeautiful, but somehow I had imagined it different.'
'Oh, if you came with a preconceived notion.'
'Perhaps that's it,' said Cherry, peeping through her eye-lashes, aslong ago at the great Achilles, and making them a sieve to divest theimage before her of all that her eye would condemn in spite of herself.
'I see a great deal of beauty, but somehow I thought the whole wouldhave been more finished,' she said.
'Not possible. A rude half developed myth is not in keeping with theprecision of a miniature. Besides, the finish of Sigurd's armour throwsback the vague beyond.'
Her feeling had been that the Pre-Raphaelitism of the hauberk was toolike worsted stockings, and not in keeping with the Turneresque whirlof flame and smoke around the sleeping Valkyr; but the disloyalty ofnot admiring Edgar's picture was impossible to her loving spirit; shelistened and looked through her eye-lashes, till though Brynhild'slimbs were to her unassisted sense almost as uncomfortable as thoseof Achilles had been, he imparted a glamour, so that she thought shebeheld it as it ought to have been, and believed it to be so great anddeep a work of art that study alone could appreciate it.
'Yes, I see--I see it now--I could not before--but that is all thebetter!'
The room was fi
lling and they were jostled by a group diligentlyworking their way with their catalogue from No. 1 to No. 1200.
'What's that glaring red and yellow thing?'
'260, Brynhild. Who was she, Flo?'
'Don't you know, Mamma? That French queen who was torn to pieces bywild horses.'
'I don't see any horses. She is all on fire.'
'I suppose she was burnt afterwards. And that's the king who did it.'
'What a horrid picture!'
'There's the intelligent public one works for,' said Edgar. 'Come andtry your luck.'
He paused, however, to show her the difference a foot's elevationwould have made to his painting; and she, with a mind more at leisurefrom itself, waited not only to sympathize but to be fascinated withthe loveliness or power of more than one picture past which he wouldhave hurried her, with murmurs at the R.A. who had secured the bestsituation.
Here they were in the water-colour room, obliged to wait, to penetratethe throng round the lesser ones, which were so close together thatthere was no distinct appropriation of the remarks.
'What a dear little thing!' 'Is it all the same child?' 'It can't beportrait, she is so pretty.'
Edgar smiled at her, and she whispered, with great inconsistency, 'No,it can't be that. Besides, childish prettiness always pleases morepeople than anything high and ideal.'
She tried to turn to the Acolyte, and two or three gentlemen yieldedplace to the lame girl. 'Geraldine Underwood,' said one, making herstart, till she saw he was reading from his catalogue. 'I don'tremember her name before.'
'No, and there's so much power as well as good drawing and expression,that I should not have thought it a woman's work.'
This, the most ambitioned praise a woman can receive, made her indeedCherry-red, and Edgar's beaming glance of congratulation was mostdelightful.
Certainly, whatever his faults, among them was neither jealousy norwant of affectionateness; and Cherry's success gave him unqualifiedpleasure, both agreeing in the belief that she was on a level with thepublic taste, while he soared too high beyond it.
Her paintings had a strength of colouring unusual in inexperiencedartists, perhaps owing to the depth of hue she had grown accustomed towhen painting for her old woman, and thus they asserted themselves,and were not killed by their neighbours, but rather, as Edgar said,committed slaughter all round.
Yet 'The Acolyte' was on the whole a dark picture: the Church was ina brown dim shade, within which, however, its perspective vaultings,arches, and tracery, were perfectly drawn, knowing where they weregoing and what they meant, yet not obtruded; and the Altar hangings,richly patterned in olive green and brown gold, were kept back inspite of all their detail, throwing out the 'flake of fire' and theglitter reflected on the gold ornaments, which had been drawn with duedeference to Clement's minute information, while in the fragment of theeast window just seen above, glittered a few jewels of stained glasstouched by the rising sun, and to which the subdued colouring of therest gave wonderful glory; and the server himself was so tinted withgrey that even his white dress did not glare, while his face was theface of Lance, as it had been a few years back, boyish and mirthfulthrough all its dutiful reverence. Of course it was not new to Edgar,but he owned that he was always struck by it whenever he came that way;and Cherry heaved a little sigh of parental pride and delight as sheowned that her little 'server' did look better than she had expected.
Then Edgar elbowed her to what was called at home her 'Constellation,'where she had caught Stella's sweet little head four times over--in theseriousness of lesson-learning, with eager parted smiling lips withwhich she listened to a story, with her tender caressing expressiontowards the kitten she was nursing, and with the rapt dreamy gaze thather brother's music would bring over her countenance. All had the meritof being caught--in the first sketch--entirely without consciousnesson Stella's part; and though she had been nailed to the positionsafterwards, it had been possible to preserve the unstudied expressionthat was one great charm of the drawings, much more sketchy andsuggestive than was their companion.
It was not easy to maintain a stand before the frame that held thefour, for people must have told one another of it, and squeezed theirway to it; till the poor little artist, growing nervous at the press,was grasping her brother tight to make him take her away. Just thenthere was a kind eager greeting, 'Good morning; I am delighted to meetyou here. You must allow me to congratulate you.'
It was Mr. Grinstead, too considerate to utter a name that wouldinstantly have brought all eyes upon the little lame girl, whom thegazers were almost sweeping away. He was full of that gracious fatherlykindness that elderly men were prone to show her, and solicitouslyasked where she was staying, and whether he might call upon her; andthen, taking advantage of an interval of people, he brought her againin front of her pictures. With him on Lord Gerald's side of her,and Edgar on the other, she felt safe enough to enter into his kindcritique, so discriminating as to gratify, improve, and stimulate herfar more than if it had been all compliment. By the time this was over,Cherry could stand no longer, and it was time for her visit to hersister, so the sculptor did Ferdinand's old part by taking care of herwhile Edgar hunted up their cousin's brougham.
'O Edgar, aren't you coming?'
'Well! I can't say the Mynheer's _menage_ likes me better than I likeit.'
'Oh, Eddie, dear, _do_. How shall I ever get in among all thosedreadful strange servants?'
'What, the crack exhibitor, whose pictures transcend woman's genius,afraid of a flunky or two!'
Nevertheless, he let her pull him into the carriage, laughing, anddemanding whether she could not have opposed coachman and footman totheir congeners; but he recollected the stair-case, and was all themore amenable that in her he had the only perfectly willing auditor ofall his whys and wherefores of all Brynhild's characteristics, all hishopes of purchasers and plans built upon her, and (now that Brynhildwas out of sight) the most profound believer in her beauties andsublimities.
The arrival was impressive. The vista of liveries, flowers, and marble,was so alarming, that Cherry could hardly have found courage to makeher way through them with no support but Lord Gerald's; but when sheentered the drawing-room the grandeur was instantly mitigated by theplainly attired, gentle, motherly lady who came forward to greet herwith a kiss. 'So you are Geraldine, the only sister I have never seen.Alda will be delighted.'
Lady Mary Murray must have been rather surprised by the sight of 'thelittle deformed one,' with her sweet pensive face of sunshine andshade, and the small slender form, as shapely as that of her sister,though leaning a little forward when walking. So kind was she, thatCherry felt that she could quite spare Edgar when he made his retreat,and never observed that he was not pressed to stay to see Alda, who hada dress-maker with her, and would send down when ready.
This gave Cherry time to become at home with Lady Mary, and to receivesome gratifying compliments upon her Constellation, united with alittle caution on the danger of making the little girl vain. 'I hopenot,' said Cherry much in earnest; 'indeed, I think Edgar and I aremere terrors to all our pretty ones, we tease them so with sitting.'
'The little boy in a surplice is another brother, I think I heard.'
'Yes, my brother Lance. He is gone into the business now. He was in theCathedral choir at Minsterham.'
'Oh! I understood that it was a portrait of the one who was in the St.Matthew's brotherhood, in his ornaments.'
'Oh no. That was Clement; and I am sure neither of them wore anythinglike that! I made out the ornaments from a book.'
'I am glad to hear it,' said Lady Mary, a little less cordially; andwhen Cherry, recollecting her views, proceeded to lead away by speakingof Brynhild, it was to be met with a kind smile and avowal that Mr.Underwood's picture was not so easy to understand.
Then came the summons to Lady Vanderkist's room. It seemed chieflyaddressed to her mother-in-law, who, however, extended it to Cherry,and proffered a soft, comfortable, substantial arm to help h
er up thestairs.
There sat Alda, beautiful to behold in white and bright blue ribbons,thinner than formerly, but exquisitely and delicately pretty, and soeager in her conference with her milliner, that she could only giveGeraldine a hasty kiss, and sign her to a seat, before appealing toLady Mary on some point of clashing taste respecting her court dress,which was the present subject of engrossing interest to the youngerlady, while the elder evidently did not feel greatly at home orinterested in a subject which she said had not come before her sincethe maiden days of Queen Victoria. Indeed, when Alda became excitedin maintaining her own opinion, she put an end to it with gentle butirresistible authority, dismissed the milliner, and insisted upon therepose that Alda was inclined to laugh to scorn.
After an exhibition of the little four weeks daughter, a prettycreature, in whom mother as well as grandmother showed plenty of pride,the two sisters were left to a _tete a tete_, Cherry feeling almosthypocritical when Lady Mary supposed them to be so eager for it.
Rather languidly Alda inquired after everyone at home, chiefly afterWilmet and Captain Harewood, where he was, and what chance there was ofhis return. Then Cherry talked of the great home subject of interest,namely that the organ was actually ordered; but Lady Vanderkistattended little, and it was safer as well as more entertaining to lether talk of herself; and she seemed to have had a very gay winter, tohave been recognized as the great lady of her neighbourhood as well asbride and beauty, and to have had much sporting society at home andabroad, while now she looked forward to a season among the circleswhich had always been the object of her ambition. No wonder that thecares and joys of Bexley occupied her but little, and that it was notmuch to her whether Felix was to be a town-councillor. However, shewas now among people who considered it an honour to have a sisterexhibiting at the Academy, and she professed much eagerness to seethe Constellation. 'But what could have induced Edgar to send such apicture?' she added; 'Adrian says it is the maddest thing he ever sawin his life.'
'It takes some study,' said Cherry, subduing her indignation.
'I should think it had taken very little study.'
'You have not seen it?'
'No of course not yet. I shall go as soon as I can, it is so stupidnot to be able to talk of the Exhibition; but I don't look forwardto Edgar's picture at all, I hear the drawing and painting are sodisgraceful.'
'There is an apparent carelessness that enhances effect.'
'Standing up for Edgar as usual, Cherry! But if you still have anyinfluence with him, this is the time to use it. Adrian hears that hehas taken up with a lot of tremendous scamps. Indeed, he saw him onthe Derby day betting away with all his might. Now he cannot standthat long, and Adrian says I must let him know that when he gets intodifficulties, he need not expect to fall back upon us.'
'The last thing he is likely to do,' said Cherry, burning withsuppressed wrath.
'Well, give him a warning, and tell him to be careful how he comes inAdrian's way. It upsets me so when he comes in and asks where I thinkhe has met my precious brother.'
'I don't see,' cried Geraldine, breaking out, 'why a place should beworse for one than for the other.'
Alda drew up her head with a little contempt, but instead of flying outas when they were on an equality, she merely said, 'Don't you?'
Then Geraldine recollected herself, and tried to say meekly somethingabout the difference made by being able to afford it; but though Aldawas kinder than usual, and changed the subject, there was no morereal comfort throughout the visit, and she went home to be unhappy.Here it was as hard as ever to behave properly to Alda. Her presenceseemed always to rouse the spitfire propensities, of which Cherrywould otherwise have been unconscious; and what was far worse was themisgiving that she had only spoken too truly. Cherry's heart sank,scold it as she would for sinking. Her _will_ might adore Brynhild,but her sense assured her of grievous carelessness in the execution;and when she recalled Edgar himself, she knew there was somethingindefinable about him that confirmed Alda's suspicions.
Her own success had been real and brilliant, but through it all herheart ached with apprehension as she became more conscious of thedifference with which her doings and his were regarded, and could notalways succeed in attributing everything to personal politeness toherself. She was staying on to take a few more studies, and to collectmaterials for the illustrations of a serial tale, an order for whichMr. Renville had procured her; and she found herself quite at homeat those pleasant little parties at his house, treated as one of theconfraternity who had won her standing, and with new comers begging tobe introduced. Mr. Grinstead was always there, and a real friend andprotector among strangers; and all was delightful except the reserveabout Brynhild, and the frequent absence of Edgar, who used once to bealways welcome, and like a son of the house.
Even at Lady Vanderkist's, Geraldine found herself a mild sort of lion,when Alda came out into the world and found that her sister was viewedas having done something remarkable.
Not that there was much intercourse. There _was_ an invitation to thechristening, extended even to Edgar and the school girls; but Lady Marywas more the mover in this than Alda herself. Edgar excused himself,and it was not a very brilliant festivity. Indeed, one anxiety onGeraldine's part was lest Lady Mary's engaging kindness should emboldenAngela to break out aloud in the wrath and indignation that stiffenedher neck and shone in her eyes at the bare dull christening on aweek-day--standing all alone--in an ugly 'pewy' church. A luncheon, atwhich the health of Mary Alda Vanderkist was drunk, was the only honourto the occasion; and Sir Adrian, though not actually uncivil, looked asusual bored, and left the amiable and gracious to his wife and mother.
Mrs. Underwood was indignant, and abused him all the way home. AllLady Mary's kindness had not hidden from her the fact that Alda wasready to spurn aside the scaffolding by which she had mounted to herpresent elevation, and was only withheld from so doing in considerationof Marilda's wealth; while Marilda, with her unfailing good natureand instinct of defence towards Alda, declared that all arose outof anxiety lest Sir Adrian should be wearied with them, and bluntlydeclared, 'You know, Mamma, we are very tiresome people; not likeCherry here, who always has something to say.'
'Oh! Cherry is a genius, but without that people needn't be tiresome,as you call it, to those that brought them up, and made them what theyare.'
'We didn't bring up Sir Adrian, Mamma.'
'I'm not talking of Sir Adrian. One expects nothing from a fine youngman about town; but, Alda, that was like my own child to me, never somuch as asking us to see her in her court dress!'
'She ought to have done that,' said Cherry, who had been reckoning thequantity of pleasure that could have been so cheaply given.
'Now depend on it, Sir Adrian doesn't like his wife to make a show ofherself,' cried Marilda, hitting on a subtly delicate motive ratherthan have no weapon of defence for this favourite cousin. Certainlythere never had been a fuller adoption as sister and brother thanhers had been of Alda and Edgar from the moment they had been givento her. She respected and trusted Felix, and was free and kind withCherry and all the rest; but her affection for these two was quite adifferent thing, and resolutely blind; and this--just as last year withWilmet--made her comfortable to Cherry, since she too ignored all thatcould be against Edgar, and fought his battles fiercely when mother orgrandmother picked up reports of his idleness, of the ill success ofthe National Minstrelsy, in which he was somehow concerned, and of theunsatisfactory habits into which he was falling.
Very dull were the evenings when he did not come, and only worn throughby reading aloud. No doubt the house in its quiet widowed conditionwas far less attractive than of old, and that the lively young manshould neglect it, even with his favourite sister there, was more to beregretted than wondered at; but whenever he did come, he was greetedwith delight, petted and made much of, as if with the desire to securethat presence, though it was not always as much of a sunbeam as of old.
One afternoon, however, he hurried in
in a state of ecstasy. A wealthymanufacturer, noted as a purchaser of modern pictures, was in treatyfor Brynhild; and Edgar looked on his fame and fortune as made.Three days ago the taste of the cotton-spinner had been denounced asdependant on fashion and notoriety. Now his discernment had gone up tothe skies, and Edgar was wandering about the room in his exultation,talking to Cherry of a winter trip to Rome, and ready to promiseeverything to everybody. Only the next day, however, came out theprincipal art journal, containing the long expected mention of Brynhild.
Alas! No. 260 was disposed of in two lines as 'the flaming productionof a tyro in suspense between the Pre-Raphaelite and the Turneresque,who in the meantime had better study the primary rules of drawing.'
Poor Geraldine! She shed a great many bitter tears over the cruelverdict, while Marilda characterised it as wicked, ill-natured, andspiteful; and when Edgar came to them they received him with tendernessand sympathy that would have befitted his sentence in his own properperson.
He was crushed as he had never been before. He did not abuse hiscritic. Indeed, he had candour enough to tell Cherry that her editorialexperience might have taught her the need of shedding a littlelife-blood now and then for the public to slake their thirst upon, butthis very charitableness almost proved it to be his life-blood.
The intended purchaser had not gone so far but that he could draw back,and this breath of hostility had effectually blown him away. He hadbroken off his treaty and declined Brynhild.
'I don't blame him,' dejectedly said Edgar; 'all the other criticswill yelp in suit, and he would be the laughing-stock of his fellowcotton-lords; but he has done for me. The very sight of "Sold" upon mypicture would have saved me.'
'Shall you be worse off than before?' asked Marilda.
'Of course one is, for having been led to make engagements under adeception. But there--never mind. Don't vex yourselves about me. I'mthe most miserable dog in the world, and that's all about it.'
'Dear Edgar,' said Cherry, smoothing his hand, 'maybe the oppositionpaper will take up another line.'
'Not a hope, Cherry. That demolished me long ago, only they were alltoo merciful to show it to you. This was my last chance.'
He lay back in a sort of collapse of complete depression.
Marilda, meanwhile, sat writing at her davenport, and presentlyrising, came towards him with a closed envelope. 'There, Edgar,' shesaid. 'Now put "Sold" on your picture.'
'Polly, Polly, you're a girl of gold!' cried Edgar, starting to hisfeet. 'You've made a man of me. I must give you a kiss.'
To Cherry's amazement, a little to her horror, the kiss was given;Marilda only bluntly and gruffly saying, 'There then, only takewarning, and don't be a fool again.'
'Your warning comes sweetened, my dear,' said Edgar, 'and it ought tosave me. I don't mind confessing that I was in a most awful fix. Well,you have Brynhild, and we'll hang her over the drawing-room door for ascare-crow, only don't let in any Sigurds who won't be as good as youare to art out at elbows!--Good-bye, my Cherry ripe. I must betake meto shaking off the toils of the hunter, now that this good mouse hasnibbled them through.'
Cherry had not spirit to rally him on his quiet assumption of thelion's part. And her acceptance of his embrace was not warm. Tothe delicate sense nurtured under Felix, the whole proceeding wasas painful as it was strange; and she was longing to have sold herpictures so as to relieve him herself. True, she had many visions, butshe would much have preferred freeing her brother herself to seeingMarilda make a purchase to which she was indifferent, palpably for thesake of assisting him.
Maybe he saw the questioning look in her face, and therefore hurriedaway so fast that Marilda broke out in regret at having failed tosecure him for an intended visit to Sydenham the next day, when partof the day would be spent with friends and the rest in the CrystalPalace. It was the sort of expedition Edgar hated, and Cherry's priderose enough against the notion of his being purchased to be dragged atMarilda's chariot wheels to prevent her from seconding the proposal towrite and ask for his company.
She would have been glad enough of his arm through the long galleries.The heartless glare and plaster showiness tired her to death; nor wereMrs. Underwood's friends particularly restful.
When she came home late in the evening, she had hardly energy to open anote that lay on the table; but when she had wearily unfolded it, shescreamed with amazement and delight. Mr. Renville wrote to tell her ofan offer for the Acolyte, and to propose to her to meet the intendingpurchaser at his studio on the second day ensuing, at twelve o'clock,to consult about an order for a companion water-colour, the subjectlikewise taken from the Silver Store, the price of the two togetherto be L150. Here opened the fulfilment of the longing of her heart,the lightening of Felix's burthen! Her dreams were a strange maze ofbeautiful forms to be drawn, and of benefits to be heaped on all theworld; and her first measure in the morning was to write a dispatch toEdgar, begging him to come and support her at the interview, and almostlaying her gains at his feet.
All day she expected him to show himself, full of advice, joy, andcongratulation; but he came not. Her note must have missed him, shesupposed; and she had to experience the lack of sympathy, for Spoonerhad come almost before breakfast was over, and Marilda had immediatelygone back with him into the City; and Mrs. Underwood was not surewhether it were _comifo_ to be elated about selling a picture, and hadno council to give between Cherry's sketches of the robin with thewheat-ear, the monk and his olive tree, the blessing of the swallows,or the widow Euphrasia and her straw.
When Marilda did come home, she was more glum than Cherry had ever seenher. She would not even guess why Edgar made no answer, but advisedthat no one should think about it. Man could not be always dancingafter woman. She was in no better humour in the morning, when Cherryexpressed her security that though he might have come home too late toanswer her note, he would not fail her at the appointment.
No such thing, he did not come for her; nor did she find him at thestudio, where Mr. Renville was however a perfectly kind and sufficientprotector, in the arrangements with the courteous and gracious oldnobleman who viewed it as a duty to encourage art, and intended thepictures to adorn his daughter's drawing-room. The choice fell onCherry's favourite, the red-breast, and altogether the interview wouldhave filled her with transport if only Edgar had been there to shareit. She could not believe him to be so changed as to neglect her outof mortification at the contrast between her success and his own; butthe bare idea poisoned the laudatory critique in the Times of her twoproductions.
It was Mrs Kedge's birthday, when her family always dined with her ather old-fashioned hour of five. When they set off, Cherry falteredan entreaty that they might call and inquire for her brother at hislodgings, but this was so curtly, almost harshly, negatived, that shefeared that she had unwittingly proposed something improper. Stillthere remained the chance of his coming to the festival, where he wascertain of a welcome. It would be so like his good nature, that Cherrynever relinquished the hope through the hot stuffy dinner, when, afterthe two elder ladies had sighed, shed a few natural tears, but wipedthem soon, over the absence of poor Mr. Underwood, they took to Citygossip, occasionally rallying the two young ladies on their silenceand abstraction; Mrs. Kedge contriving to joke at her grand-daughter'ssupposed loss of her 'eart, and at Cherry for having made such aconquest with her hart.
Just as dessert came in, and Geraldine was reflecting with a sort ofdreamy despair that it was the hour for driving in the park, therecame a thundering knock, and Cherry bounded on her chair, exclaiming,'There's Edgar!' while Mrs. Kedge cried out, laughing, 'Just like him!I knew he'd be in time for my preserved ginger. Ah! Mr. Hedgar, trustto--What! isn't it him? Who is it, Mary?' handing the card to her.
'Mr. Travis!' Marilda and the maid exclaimed at the same time; andthe next moment he stood before the quartette, receiving a cordialwelcome from all; for though Mrs. Underwood might bridle a little,she remembered that Alda was safely disposed of, and that he was nowan undoubte
d millionaire depending on no one's good-will. Geraldinewas flushed, and quivering between pleasure, shame, and the moment'sdisappointment; and Marilda's broad face flashed for a moment with alook of indescribable illumination and relief, then subsided into itsusual almost stolid calm.
For himself, he looked more like what he had been as Peter Brown'sclerk than the Life-guardsman, for he had outgrown the boyish displayof ornament, though he had never lost the fine military bearing thatso well became his figure; but he now had a grand black beard, whichmade him more romantic-looking than ever. His countenance was as usualgrave, but not so depressed or languid as formerly, and indeed itlighted into glad animation at the unexpected sight of Geraldine,as he wrung her hand with the fervour of a brother. He sat down; butexcept to drink Mrs. Kedge's health he accepted none of the eageroffers of hospitality, but said he was to dine with Mr. Brown at eighto'clock. He had come home on business, and not being able to wind uphis uncle's affairs quickly, thought he should have to spend his timebetween England and America for a good while to come; but he hoped torun down and see Felix, 'and to hear about the organ.' Cherry had somuch to tell him about the building of it, and of Lance's delight inthe prospect, that she forgot her anxieties for the moment, till heasked after the success of the concert, and she had to tell him ofEdgar and his stars. He looked at his watch, and said he should havetime to see after Edgar before dinner. 'Ah, do!' said Cherry; 'and findout whether he got my note, I haven't seen him these four days!'
There was a break-up from the dining-room; and Ferdinand, smiling asort of apology to Mrs. Kedge, offered his arm to Cherry to take her upto the drawing-room, where except on these great occasions no one eversat; Marilda managed to linger on the stairs, so as to intercept him onhis way down.
'Mr. Travis,' she said, 'you will do me a great favour, if you willcall on me at our office between ten and twelve to-morrow. Can you?'
'Certainly,' he replied, much surprised; but she flew up the stairsbefore any more could be said.
She was at her counting-house in full time, sitting at thelibrary-table in the private room, just like her father, openingletters and jotting on them the replies to be made by her clerks,without often needing to take counsel with Spooner.
At ten o'clock a clerk brought up Mr. Travis, and he was soon seatedopposite to her, not quite so unprepared as on the previous day.
'Thank you for coming,' she said; 'I knew you were the only person whomI could trust in for help.'
'I shall be very happy,' he began. 'Is it about Edgar Underwood?'
'Do you know anything?'
'Only that no one at his rooms seems to know where he is.'
'Ah!' (as if expecting this). 'Now, I know you would do anything forFelix Underwood and the rest, and can keep silence. To speak would beworse than anything.' He bent his head: and she went on, 'Read that.No, you won't understand it;' then collecting herself, 'Poor Edgar! youknow what he is, and how he can't help running into debt. We gave himhis tastes, and it is our fault. This year he managed to do a picture,an odd red and yellow looking thing, but very fine, with a lady fastasleep in the middle of a fire. Well, he thought he had sold it, andmade sure of the price, when some spiteful newspaper abused it, andthe shabby man was off his bargain, and left the picture on his hands.He was so frightfully downcast, and I had reason to think him so hardup, that I thought I'd take the picture off his hands; and so I poppeda cheque for a hundred, done up in an envelope, into his hand, nottelling him what it was--more's the pity. We were out all the nextday, and he called and wanted to find out where we were gone, but thefootman is stupidity itself, and could not tell him. He came threetimes; but we were racketting at that miserable Sydenham, and did notget home till eleven. If he had only come in and waited! The next daycame Spooner to me in a terrible rage. Now, promise, Mr. Travis, thatthis is never mentioned. On your honour!'
'On my honour. Never!'
'My cheque had been presented with the one hundred changed into four.The clerk at the bank doubted it, and had come here, and Spooner cameto Kensington about it. I believe I went nearer to a lie than ever Idid before; I said it was all right, and stood to it so that they bothhad to be pacified. You see,' as she saw how shocked Ferdinand was, 'hewas in great difficulties, and he only meant it for a trick which wouldhave been explained directly, if only I had not been so unfortunatelyout of reach.'
'You don't mean that you would overlook it?'
'Well, it seems that I was altogether wrong about the value, aspictures go. Of course I thought it rather too bad, and meant to givehim a piece of my mind and frighten him thoroughly; but ever since poorCherry has been pining, and wondering at his not coming; and yesterdayI got this--addressed here, no doubt that Cherry might not see it, butmarked private to keep Spooner's hands off.'
She thrust a sheet of paper into his hand.
DEAR MARILDA,
Had I seen you yesterday, I should not be in my present plight. I rehearse continually in my own ears the assault I had in readiness for you for your ignorance of the market price of art. Brynhild may be worthless, but if she be worth a penny, she is worth L250, which was what that gay deceiver was to have given. I had liabilities which I had staved off; indeed, my villain of a landlord only refrained from seizing my goods and chattels on the promise of the cash instanter. Other debts I durst not face. All that was left of your father's bequest is gone in the smash of the National Minstrelsy. County courts yawned on me, and only promptitude could save me. But verily I would not have taken a sheep when a lamb would have sufficed the first wolf, if _one_ would have lent itself to transformation into anything but a cool _four_. Your round hand has been the ruin of me, Polly. It must have been the loop of your _e_ that undid me. Nevertheless, I had the odd L150 in my pocket to hand over as your rightful change, (and maybe have begged of you,) when thrice I failed in finding you; and as I was coming this very morning--or was it yesterday? I'm all in a maze--I saw Spooner dash by in a cab, and knew it was all up with me!
Don't believe so badly of me as he has told you, dear old Poll. I have put myself out of his reach that he may have the less chance to break Felix's heart. For myself, I don't care a rap what becomes of me; but if it be not too late, I implore you to screen him and poor little Geraldine from the knowledge. Let them think it a simple flight from creditors--true enough in all conscience, as I fear they will soon find.
If it have got wind, I need not beg you to spare them and let Lance know that I am thankful to the 'early piety' or whatever it was that kept him out of the scrape. Some day all shall be repaid; but until then you have seen and heard the last of--your not ungrateful in heart, however ungrateful in deed--the most miserable and unlucky of dogs,
T.E.U.
'Where was this posted?' asked Ferdinand.
'At Ostend. Here's the post-mark.'
'Has he sent back the L150?'
'Oh no; of course he must have that to go on with.'
'It would have been more like repentance if he had sent it.'
'No, no; he couldn't. He would have had nothing to live on. Besides, itmakes no real difference. Don't you turn against him, Mr. Travis, for Ihave no one else to trust to. I can't tell Felix; for it might do himserious harm in his business, and he might not consent to hush it up.Then Clement is a formal prig; and Lance is a boy, and couldn't getaway. Nobody but you can do any good.'
'And what is it that you wish me to do?'
'I wanted your advice, first of all; I had no one I could venture totalk to, lest he might think some dreadful thing his duty, and go andtell!'
'There can be no palliating the criminality of the act,' said Ferdinandgravely; 'but for the sake of the--the innocent--' (his lip quiveredat the word,) 'it may well be conceal
ed, since you are so generous.Vanderkist might make a cruel use of it.'
'And I think it would kill Cherry. What I wished was--since one can'twrite with no address--if any one could go after him, and tell himthat not a soul knows. I do believe now, after this shock, he might besobered and make a new start; not here perhaps--'
'I'll go!' cried Ferdinand. 'I'll do my business with Brown, and startby to-night's steamer. Do you know where he is likely to be?'
'His wish has always been for Italy, but it is hardly the season; andmy dread is of his going to Hesse Homburg, or Baden, or some of thoseplaces, hoping to retrieve this money.'
'I'll look, I'll make every inquiry. I'll never rest till I havefound him!' said Ferdinand, with the earnestness of one delighted tohave found the means of rendering an important service to his dearestfriends.
'I felt sure that you could and would, from the moment I saw you,' saidMarilda, 'When your card came in, there seemed to open a way out ofthis dreadful black misery.'
'Remember,' said Ferdinand, 'it would not be right to bring him homeat once on the former terms. You forgive him, and for the sake of hisfamily you do not expose him; but he ought not to be reinstated.'
'Not only for his family's sake--for his own!' cried Marilda. 'He isjust like my brother--it was only between brother and sister. But youare right,' she added, as the man's grave look of severity recalledher from her sisterly championship; 'it would only be running him intodanger again. He had much better go and study in Italy; and he can behelped there, if he will only keep out of mischief.'
She then mentioned all the haunts of his she knew of in Belgium andGermany; Geraldine might know more, but how was she to be told?Marilda had a perfect terror of renewing the condition into which shehad last year been thrown, and besides feared her quickness of eyemight discover the secret. She hoped to keep her in ignorance tillFerdinand could send home tidings, and make Edgar write what would besome comfort after the suspense; but when the time that, at the lowestcomputation, must elapse before anything could be heard was reckoned,they both felt that it was cruelty to keep Cherry in her present state.A week more would be enough to destroy her.
But Marilda, though a strong-minded woman enough ordinarily, shrunkwith dismay from telling her. Should Felix be written to? There was nodoubt that so soon as he heard the tidings from Cherry, or otherwise,he would hurry up to investigate and to take her home; so that to askhim to come and break it to her was hardly giving him unreasonabletrouble. Besides the secret might be safer, so managed. Thus, thetwo generous spirits who sat in council first destroyed poor Edgar'sletter, lest it should ever serve as evidence against him; and thenMarilda wrote--
MY DEAR FELIX,
Geraldine will have told you that we have not seen Edgar for some time. From a note received from him, I have reason to believe that debts are the cause of his flight. Mr. Travis is kind enough to follow and see what can be done; but I do not know how to tell poor Cherry, and if you will come up I will meet you at the station at 11.30.
Your affectionate cousin, M.A. UNDERWOOD.