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diff --git a/16258-h/16258-h.htm b/16258-h/16258-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cc62879 --- /dev/null +++ b/16258-h/16258-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10495 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Squire of Sandal-Side, by Amelia Edith Huddleston Barr</title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; font-size: smaller; text-align: right;} /* page numbers */ + .sidenote {width: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em; margin-left: 1em; + float: right; clear: right; margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; background: #eeeeee; border: dashed 1px;} + + .bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + .bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + .bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + .br {border-right: solid 2px;} + .bbox {border: solid 2px;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: super; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em;} + .poem span.i11 {display: block; margin-left: 11em;} + .poem span.i6 {display: block; margin-left: 6em;} + .poem span.i9 {display: block; margin-left: 9em;} + hr.full { width: 100%; } + pre {font-size: 8pt;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Squire of Sandal-Side, by Amelia Edith +Huddleston Barr</h1> +<pre> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: The Squire of Sandal-Side</p> +<p> A Pastoral Romance</p> +<p>Author: Amelia Edith Huddleston Barr</p> +<p>Release Date: July 10, 2005 [eBook #16258]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SQUIRE OF SANDAL-SIDE***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3>E-text prepared by Bethanne M. Simms, Sigal Alon, Mary Meehan,<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (https://www.pgdp.net)</h3> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1"></a><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2"></a></p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<h1>THE SQUIRE</h1> +<h1>OF SANDAL-SIDE<br /><br /></h1> + +<h2>A PASTORAL ROMANCE<br /><br /></h2> + +<p class="center">BY</p> +<h2>AMELIA E. BARR</h2> +<h5>AUTHOR OF "JAN VEDDER'S WIFE," "A DAUGHTER OF +FIFE,"<br /> "THE BOW OF ORANGE RIBBON," ETC.<br /><br /></h5> + +<h3>1886</h3> + +<p class="center">NEW YORK<br /> +THE A.D. PORTER CO.<br /> +PUBLISHERS<br /></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2>CONTENTS.</h2> + +<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. --> +<p> +<a href="#CHAPTER_I"><b><span class="smcap">Chapter I. Seat-Sandal</span></b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_II"><b><span class="smcap">Chapter II. The Sheep-Shearing</span></b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_III"><b><span class="smcap">Chapter III. Julius Sandal</span></b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IV"><b><span class="smcap">Chapter IV. Thus runs the World away</span></b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_V"><b><span class="smcap">Chapter V. Charlotte</span></b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VI"><b><span class="smcap">Chapter VI. The Day before Christmas</span></b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VII"><b><span class="smcap">Chapter VII. Wooing and Wedding</span></b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VIII"><b><span class="smcap">Chapter VIII. The Enemy in the Household</span></b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IX"><b><span class="smcap">Chapter IX. Esau</span></b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_X"><b><span class="smcap">Chapter X. The New Squire</span></b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XI"><b><span class="smcap">Chapter XI. Sandal And Sandal</span></b></a><br /> +</p> +<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. --> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I.</h2> + +<h3>SEAT-SANDAL.</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"This happy breed of men, this little world."</p> + +<p> +"To know<br /> +That which before us lies in daily life<br /> +Is the prime wisdom." +</p> + +<p>"All that are lovers of virtue ... be quiet, and go a-angling."</p><br /></div> + +<p>There is a mountain called Seat-Sandal, +between the Dunmail Raise and Grisedale +Pass; and those who have stood upon its summit +know that Grasmere vale and lake lie at +their feet, and that Windermere, Esthwaite, and +Coniston, with many arms of the sea, and a +grand brotherhood of mountains, are all around +them. There is also an old gray manor-house +of the same name. It is some miles distant +from the foot of the mountain, snugly sheltered +<a name="Page_7" id="Page_7"></a>in one of the loveliest valleys between Coniston +and Torver. No one knows when the first +stones of this house were laid. The Sandals +were in Sandal-Side when the white-handed, +waxen-faced Edward was building Westminster +Abbey, and William the Norman was laying +plans for the crown of England. Probably they +came with those Norsemen who a century earlier +made the Isle of Man their headquarters, +and from it, landing on the opposite coast of +Cumberland, settled themselves among valleys +and lakes and mountains of primeval beauty, +which must have strongly reminded them of +their native land.</p> + +<p>For the prevailing names of this district are +all of the Norwegian type, especially such +abounding suffixes and prefixes as <i>seat</i> from +"set," a dwelling; <i>dale</i> from "dal," a valley; <i>fell</i> +from "fjeld," a mountain; <i>garth</i> from "gard," +an enclosure; and <i>thwaite</i>, from "thveit," a +clearing. It is certain, also, that, in spite of +much Anglo-Saxon admixture, the salt blood +of the roving Viking is still in the Cumberland +dalesman. Centuries of bucolic isolation have +not obliterated it. Every now and then the +sea calls some farmer or shepherd, and the +<a name="Page_8" id="Page_8"></a>restless drop in his veins gives him no peace +till he has found his way over the hills and fells +to the port of Whitehaven, and gone back to +the cradling bosom that rocked his ancestors.</p> + +<p>But in the main, this lovely spot was a northern +Lotus-land to the Viking. The great hills +shut him in from the sight of the sea. He +built himself a "seat," and enclosed "thwaites" +of greater or less extent; and, forgetting the +world in his green paradise, was for centuries +almost forgotten by the world. And if long +descent and an ancient family have any special +claim to be held honorable, it is among the +Cumberland "statesmen," or freeholders, it must +be looked for in England.</p> + +<p>The Sandals have been wise and fortunate +owners of the acres which Lögberg Sandal +cleared for his descendants. They have a family +tradition that he came from Iceland in his +own galley; and a late generation has written +out portions of a saga,—long orally transmitted,—which +relates the incidents of his voyage. +All the Sandals believe implicitly in its authenticity; +and, indeed, though it is full of fighting, +of the plunder of gold and rich raiment, and +the carrying off of fair women, there is nothing +<a name="Page_9" id="Page_9"></a>improbable in its relations, considering the people +and the time whose story it professes to tell.</p> + +<p>Doubtless this very Lögberg Sandal built +the central hall of Seat-Sandal. There were +giants in those days; and it must have been the +hands of giants that piled the massive blocks, +and eyes accustomed to great expanses that +measured off the large and lofty space. Smaller +rooms have been built above it and around it, +and every generation has added something to +its beauty and comfort; but Lögberg's great +hall, with its enormous fireplace, is still the +heart of the home.</p> + +<p>For nowhere better than among these +"dalesmen" can the English elemental resistance +to fusion be seen. Only at the extreme +point of necessity have they exchanged ideas +with any other section, yet they have left +their mark all over English history. In Cumberland +and Westmoreland, the most pathetic +romances of the Red Rose were enacted. In +the strength of these hills, the very spirit of +the Reformation was cradled. From among +them came the Wyckliffite queen of Henry the +Eighth, and the noble confessor and apostle +Bernard Gilpin. No lover of Protestantism +<a name="Page_10" id="Page_10"></a>can afford to forget the man who refused the +bishopric of Carlisle, and a provostship at +Oxford, that he might traverse the hills and +dales, and read to the simple "statesmen" and +shepherds the unknown Gospels in the vernacular. +They gathered round him in joyful wonder, +and listened kneeling to the Scriptures. +Only the death of Mary prevented his martyrdom; +and to-day his memory is as green as are +the ivies and sycamores around his old home.</p> + +<p>The Protestant spirit which Gilpin raised +among these English Northmen was exceptionally +intense; and here George Fox found ready +the strong mystical element necessary for his +doctrines. For these men had long worshipped +"in temples not made with hands." +In the solemn "high places" they had learned +to interpret the voices of winds and waters; +and among the stupendous crags, more like +clouds at sunset than fragments of solid land, +they had seen and heard wonderful things. +All over this country, from Kendal to old +Ulverston, Fox was known and loved; and +from Swarthmoor Hall, a manor-house not +very far from Seat-Sandal, he took his wife.</p> + +<p>After this the Stuarts came marching +<a name="Page_11" id="Page_11"></a>through the dales, but the followers of Wyckliffe +and Fox had little sympathy with the +Stuarts. In the rebellion of 1715, their own +lord, the Earl of Derwentwater, was beheaded +for aiding the unfortunate family; and the hills +and waters around are sad with the memories +of his lady's heroic efforts and sufferings. So, +when Prince Charles came again, in 1745, they +were moved neither by his beauty nor his +romantic daring: they would take no part at +all in his brilliant blunder.</p> + +<p>It was for his stanch loyalty on this occasion, +that the Christopher Sandal of that day was +put among the men whom King George determined +to honor. A baronetcy was offered him, +which he declined; for he had a feeling that +he would deeply offend old Lögberg Sandal, and +perhaps all the rest of his ancestral wraiths, if +he merged their ancient name in that of Baron +of Torver. The sentiment was one the German +King of England could understand and +respect; and Sandal received, in place of a +costly title, the lucrative office of High Sheriff +of Cumberland, and a good share besides of the +forfeited lands of the rebel houses of Huddleston +and Millom.</p><p><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12"></a></p> + +<p>Then he took his place among the great +county families of England. He passed over +his own hills, and went up to London, and did +homage for the king's grace to him. And +that strange journey awakened in the mountain +lord some old spirit of adventure and curiosity. +He came home by the ocean, and perceived +that he had only half lived before. He sent +his sons to Oxford; he made them travel; he +was delighted when the youngest two took to +the sea as naturally as the eider-ducks fledged +in a sea-sand nest.</p> + +<p>Good fortune did not spoil the old, cautious +family. It went "cannily" forward, and knew +how "to take occasion by the hand," and how +to choose its friends. Towards the close of +the eighteenth century, an opportune loan +again set the doors of the House of Lords open +to the Sandals; but the head of the family +was even less inclined to enter it than his +grandfather had been.</p> + +<p>"Nay, then," was his answer, "t' Sandals are +too old a family to hide their heads in a coronet. +Happen, I am a bit opinion-tied, but it's +over late to loosen knots made centuries ago; +and I don't want to loosen them, neither."</p><p><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13"></a></p> + +<p>So it will be perceived, that, though the Sandals +moved, they moved slowly. A little +change went a great way with them. The +men were all conservative in politics, the +women intensely so in all domestic traditions. +They made their own sweet waters and +unguents and pomades, long after the nearest +chemist supplied a far better and cheaper +article. Their spinning-wheels hummed by +the kitchen-fire, and their shuttles glided deftly +in the weaving-room, many a year after Manchester +cottons were cheap and plentiful. But +they were pleasant, kindly women, who did +wonderful needlework, and made all kinds of +dainty dishes and cordials and sirups. They +were famous florists and gardeners, and the +very neatest of housewives. They visited the +poor and sick, and never went empty-handed. +They were hearty Churchwomen. They loved +God, and were truly pious, and were hardly +aware of it; for those were not days of much +inquiry. People did their duty and were happy, +and did not reason as to "why" they did it, nor +try to ascertain if there were a legitimate +cause for the effect.</p> + +<p>But about the beginning of this century, a +<a name="Page_14" id="Page_14"></a>different day began to dawn over Sandal-Side. +The young heir came to his own, and signalized +the event by marrying the rich Miss +Lowther of Whitehaven. She had been finely +educated. She had lived in large cities, and +been to court. She dressed elegantly; she had +a piano and much grand furniture brought over +the hills to Sandal; and she filled the old house +during the summer with lords and ladies, and +poets and artists, who flitted about the idyllic +little village, like gay butterflies in a lovely +garden.</p> + +<p>The husband and children of such a woman +were not likely to stand still. Sandal, encouraged +by her political influence, went into Parliament. +Her children did fairly well; for +though one boy was wild, and cost them a +deal of money, and another went away in a +passion one morning, and never came back, +the heir was a good son, and the two girls +made splendid marriages. On the whole, she +could feel that she had done well to her generation. +Even after she had been long dead, +the old women in the village talked of her +beauty and spirit, of the tight hand she kept +over every one and every thing pertaining to<a name="Page_15" id="Page_15"></a> +Sandal. Of all the mistresses of the old "seat," +this Mistress Charlotte was the most prominent +and the best remembered.</p> + +<p>Every one who steps within the wide, cool +hall of Seat-Sandal faces first of all things her +picture. It is a life-size painting of a beautiful +woman, in the queer, scant costume of the +regency. She wears a white satin frock and +white satin slippers, and carries in her hand a +bunch of white roses. She appears to be coming +down a flight of wide stairs; one foot is +lifted for the descent, and the dark background, +and the dim light in which it hangs, give to +the illusion an almost startling reality. It was +her fancy to have the painting hung there to +welcome all who entered her doors; and though +it is now old-fashioned, and rather shabby and +faded, no one of the present generation cares +to order its removal. All hold quietly to the +opinion that "grandmother would not like it."</p> + +<p>In that quiet acre on the hillside, which holds +the generations of the Sandals, she had been +at rest for ten years. But her son still bared +his gray head whenever he passed her picture; +still, at times, stood a minute before it, and said +with tender respect, "I salute thee, mother."<a name="Page_16" id="Page_16"></a> +And in her granddaughter's lives still she interfered; +for she had left in their father's charge +a sum of money, which was to be used solely to +give them some pleasure which they could not +have without it. In this way, though dead, she +kept herself a part of their young lives; became +a kind of fairy grandmother, who gave them +only delightful things, and her name continued +a household word.</p> + +<p>Only the mother seemed averse to speak it; +and Charlotte, who was most observant, noticed +that she never lifted her eyes to the picture as +she passed it. There were reasons for these +things which the children did not understand. +They had been too young at her death to estimate +the bondage in which she had kept her +daughter-in-law, who, for her husband's sake, +had been ever patient and reticent. Nothing +is, indeed, more remarkable than the patience +of wives under this particular trial. They may +be restive under many far less wrongs, but they +bear the mother-in-law grievance with a dignity +which shames the grim joking and the petulant +abuse of men towards the same relationship. +And for many years the young wife had borne +nobly a domestic tyranny which pressed her on +<a name="Page_17" id="Page_17"></a>every hand. If then, she was glad to be set +free from it, the feeling was too natural to be +severely blamed; for she never said so,—no, +not even by a look. Her children had the +benefit of their grandmother's kindness, and +she was too honorable to deprive the dead of +their meed of gratitude.</p> + +<p>The present holder of Sandal had none of his +mother's ambitious will. He cared for neither +political nor fashionable life; and as soon as he +came to his inheritance, married a handsome, +sensible daleswoman with whom he had long +been in love. Then he retired from a world +which had nothing to give him comparable, in +his eyes, with the simple, dignified pleasures +incident to his position as Squire of Sandal-Side. +For dearly he loved the old hall, with its +sheltering sycamores and oaks,—oaks which +had been young trees when the knights lying +in Furness Abbey led the Grasmere bowmen at +Crécy and Agincourt. Dearly he loved the large, +low rooms, full of comfortable elegance; and +the sweet, old-fashioned, Dutch garden, so green +through all the snows of winter, so cheerfully +grave and fragrant in the summer twilights, so +shady and cool even in the hottest noons.</p><p><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18"></a></p> + +<p>Thirty years ago he was coming through it +one July evening. It had been a very hot day; +and the flowers were drooping, and the birds +weary and silent. But Squire Sandal, though +flushed and rumpled looking, had still the air +of drippy mornings and hazy afternoons about +him. There was a creel at his back, and a fishing-rod +in his hand, and he had just come from +the high, unplanted places, and the broomy, +breezy moorlands; and his broad, rosy face +expressed nothing but happiness.</p> + +<p>At his side walked his favorite daughter +Charlotte,—his dear companion, the confidant +and sharer of all his sylvan pleasures. She was +tired and dusty; and her short printed gown +showed traces of green, spongy grass, and +lichen-covered rocks. But her face was a joy +to see: she had such bright eyes, such a kind, +handsome mouth, such a cheerful voice, such +a merry laugh. As they came in sight of the +wide-open front-doors, she looked ruefully down +at her feet and her grass-and-water-stained +skirt, and then into her father's face.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what Sophia will say if she +sees me, father; I don't, indeed."</p> + +<p>"Never you mind her, dear. Sophia's rather +<a name="Page_19" id="Page_19"></a>high, you know. And we've had a rare good +time. Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>"I should think we have! There are not +many pleasures in life better than persuading +a fine trout to go a little way down stream +with you. Are there, father?"</p> + +<p>"You are right, Charlotte. Trout are the +kind of company you want on an outing. And +then, you know, if you can only persuade one +to go down stream a bit with you, there's not +much difficulty in persuading him to let you +have the pleasure of seeing him to dinner. +Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>"I think I will go round by the side-door, +father. I might meet some one in the +hall."</p> + +<p>"Nay, don't do that. There isn't any need +to shab off. You've done nothing wrong, and +I'm ready to stand by you, my dear; and you +know what a good time we've been having all +day. Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I know, father,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Showers and clouds and winds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All things well and proper;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trailer, red and white,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dark and wily dropper.<br /></span><p><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20"></a></p> +<span class="i0">Midges true to fling<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Made of plover hackle,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With a gaudy wing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a cobweb tackle."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"Cobweb tackle, eh, Charlotte? Yes, certainly; +for a hand that can manage it. Lancie +Crossthwaite will land you a trout, three pounds +weight, with a line that wouldn't lift a dead +weight of one pound from the floor to the table. +I'll uphold he will. Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>"I'll do it myself, some day; see if I don't, +father."</p> + +<p>"I've no doubt of it, Charlotte; not a bit." +Then being in the entrance-hall, they parted +with a smile of confidence, and Charlotte +hastened up-stairs to prepare herself for the +evening meal. She gave one quick glance at +her grandmother's picture as she passed it, a +glance of mingled deprecation and annoyance; +for there were times when the complacent +serenity of the perfect face, and the perfect +propriety of the white satin gown, gave her a +little spasm of indignation.</p> + +<p>She dressed rapidly, with a certain deft +grace that was part of her character. And it +was a delightful surprise to watch the metamorphosis; +<a name="Page_21" id="Page_21"></a>the more so, as it went on with a +perfect unconsciousness of its wonderful beauty. +Here a change, and there a change, until the +bright brown hair was loosened from its net +of knotted silk, to fall in wavy, curly masses; +and the printed gown was exchanged for one +of the finest muslin, pink and flowing, and +pinned together with bows of pale blue satin. +A daring combination, which precisely suited +her blonde, brilliant beauty. Her eyes were +shining; her cheeks touched by the sun till +they had the charming tints of a peach on a +southern wall. She looked at herself with a +little nod of satisfaction, and then tapped at +the door of the room adjoining her own. It +was Miss Sandal's room; and Miss Sandal, +though only sixteen months older than Charlotte, +exacted all the deference due to her by +the right of primogeniture.</p> + +<p>"Come in, Charlotte."</p> + +<p>"How did you know it was I?"</p> + +<p>"I know your knock, however you vary it. +Nobody knocks like you. I suppose no two +people would make three taps just the same." +She was far too polite to yawn; but she made +as much of the movement as she could not +<a name="Page_22" id="Page_22"></a>control, and then put a mark in her book, and +laid it down. A very different girl, indeed, was +she from her younger sister; a stranger would +never have suspected her of the same parentage.</p> + +<p>She had dark, fine eyes, which, however, did +not express what she felt: they rather gave the +idea of storing up impressions to be re-acted +upon by some interior power. She had a +delicate complexion, a great deal of soft, black +hair compactly dressed, and a neat figure. +Her disposition was dreamy and self-willed; +occult studies fascinated her, and she was passionately +fond of moonlight. She was simply +dressed in a white muslin frock, with a black +ribbon around her slim waist; but the ribbon +was clasped by a buckle of heavily chased gold, +and her fingers had many rings on them, and +looked—a very rare circumstance—the better +for them. Having put down her book, she +rose from her chair; and as she dipped the tips +of her hands in water, and wiped them with +elaborate nicety, she talked to Charlotte in a +soft, deliberate way.</p> + +<p>"Where have you been, you and father, ever +since daybreak?"</p><p><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23"></a></p> + +<p>"Up to Blaeberry Tarn, and then home by +Holler Beck. We caught a creel full of trout, +and had a very happy day."</p> + +<p>"Really, you know?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, really; why not?"</p> + +<p>"I cannot understand it, Charlotte. I suppose +we never were sisters before." She said +the words with the air of one who rather states +a fact than asks a question; and Charlotte, not +at all comprehending, looked at her curiously +and interrogatively.</p> + +<p>"I mean that our relationship in this life +does not touch our anterior lives."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you know you are talking nonsense, +Sophia! It gives me such a feel, you can't tell, +to think of having lived before; and I don't +believe it. There, now! Come, dear, let us go +to dinner; I'm that hungry I'm fit to drop." +For Charlotte was watching, with a feeling of +injury, Sophia's leisurely method of putting +every book and chair and hairpin in its place.</p> + +<p>The sisters' rooms were precisely alike in +their general features, and yet there was as +great a relative difference in their apartments +as in their natures. Both were large, low +rooms, facing the sunrise. The walls of both +<a name="Page_24" id="Page_24"></a>were of dark oak; the roofs of both were of the +same sombre wood; so also were the floors. +They were literally oak chambers. And in both +rooms the draperies of the beds, chairs, and +windows were of white dimity. But in Sophia's, +there were many pictures, souvenirs of girlhood's +friendships, needlework, finished and unfinished +drawings, and a great number of +books mostly on subjects not usually attractive +to young women. Charlotte's room had no +pictures on its walls, and no odds and ends of +memorials; and as sewing was to her a duty +and not a pleasure, there was no crotcheting or +Berlin-wool work in hand; and with the exception +of a handsome copy of "Izaak Walton," +there were no books on her table but a Bible, +Book of Common Prayer, and a very shabby +Thomas à Kempis.</p> + +<p>So dissimilar were the girls in their appearance +and their tastes; and yet they loved each +other with that calm, habitual, family affection, +which, undemonstrative as it is, stands the wear +and tug of life with a wonderful tenacity. +Down the broad, oak stairway they sauntered +together; Charlotte's tall, erect figure, bright, +loose hair, pink dress, and flowing ribbons, +<a name="Page_25" id="Page_25"></a>throwing into effective contrast the dark hair, +dark eyes, white drapery, and gleaming ornaments +of her elder sister.</p> + +<p>In the hall they met the squire. He was +very fond and very proud of his daughters; and +he gave his right arm to Sophia, and slipped his +left hand into Charlotte's hand with an affectionate +pride and confidence that was charming.</p> + +<p>"Any news, mother?" he asked, as he lifted +one of the crisp brown trout from its bed of +white damask and curly green parsley.</p> + +<p>"None, squire; only the sheep-shearing at +the Up-Hill Farm to-morrow. John of Middle +Barra called with the statesman's respects. +Will you go, squire?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly. My men are all to lend a hand. +Barf Latrigg is ageing fast now; he was my +father's crony; if I slighted him, I should feel +as if father knew about it. Which of you will +go with me? Thou, mother?"</p> + +<p>"That, I cannot, squire. The servant lasses +are all promised for the fleece-folding; and it's +a poor house that won't keep one woman busy +in it."</p> + +<p>"Sophia and Charlotte will go then?"</p> + +<p>"Excuse me, father," answered Sophia languidly.<a name="Page_26" id="Page_26"></a> +"I shall have a headache to-morrow, I +fear; I have been nervous and poorly all the +afternoon."</p> + +<p>"Why, Sophia, I didn't think I had such a +foolish lass! Taking fancies for she doesn't +know what. If you plan for to-morrow, plan a +bit of pleasure with it; that's a long way better +than expecting a headache. Charlotte will go +then. Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, father; I will go. Sophia never could +bear walking in the heat. I like it; and I think +there are few things merrier than a sheep-shearing."</p> + +<p>"So poetic! So idyllic!" murmured Sophia, +with mild sarcasm.</p> + +<p>"Many people think so, Sophia. Mr. Wordsworth +would remember Pan and Arcadian shepherds +playing on reedy pipes, and Chaldæan +shepherds studying the stars, and those on +Judæa's hills who heard the angels singing. He +would think of wild Tartar shepherds, and +handsome Spanish and Italian."</p> + +<p>"And still handsomer Cumberland ones." +And Sophia, having given this little sisterly reminder, +added calmly, "I met Mr. Wordsworth +to-day, father. He had come over the fells with +<a name="Page_27" id="Page_27"></a>a party, and he looked very much bored with +his company."</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't wonder if he were. He likes his own company best. He is a great man +now, but I remember well when people thought +he was just a little off-at-side. You knew +Nancy Butterworth, mother?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly I did, squire. She lived near +Rydal."</p> + +<p>"Yes. Nancy wasn't very bright herself. +A stranger once asked her what Mr. Wordsworth +was like; and she said, 'He's canny +enough at times. Mostly he's wandering up +and down t' hills, talking his po-et-ry; but now +and then he'll say, "How do ye do, Nancy?" as +sensible as you or me.'"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Wordsworth speaks foolishness to a +great many people besides Nancy Butterworth," +said Sophia warmly; "but he is a great poet +and a great seer to those who can understand +him."</p> + +<p>"Well, well, Mr. Wordsworth is neither here +nor there in our affairs. We'll go up to Latriggs +in the afternoon, Charlotte. I'll be ready +at two o'clock."</p> + +<p>"And I, also, father." Her face was flushed +<a name="Page_28" id="Page_28"></a>and thoughtful, and she had become suddenly +quiet. The squire glanced at her, but without +curiosity; he only thought, "What a pity she +is a lass! I wish Harry had her good sense +and her good heart; I do that."</p><p><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29"></a></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II.</h2> + +<h3>THE SHEEP-SHEARING.</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"Plain living and high thinking ...<br /> +The homely beauty of the good old cause,<br /> +...our peace, our fearful innocence,<br /> +And pure religion breathing household laws."</p> + +<p>"A happy youth, and their old age<br /> +Is beautiful and free."</p><br /> +</div> + + +<p>The sheep-shearings at Up-Hill Farm were +a kind of rural Olympics. Shepherds came +there from far and near to try their skill against +each other,—young men in their prime mostly, +with brown, ruddy faces, and eyes of that bright +blue lustre which is only gained by a free, open-air +life. The hillside was just turning purple +with heather bloom, and along the winding, +stony road the yellow asphodels were dancing +in the wind. Everywhere there was the scent +of bog-myrtle and wild-rose and sweetbrier, +and the tinkling sound of becks babbling over +glossy rocks; and in the glorious sunshine +and luminous air, the mountains appeared to +<a name="Page_30" id="Page_30"></a>expand and elevate, and to throw out glowing +peaks and summits into infinite space.</p> + +<p>Hand in hand the squire and his daughter +climbed the fellside. They had left home in +high spirits, merrily flinging back the mother's +and Sophia's last advices; but gradually they +became silent, and then a little mournful. "I +wonder why it is, father?" asked Charlotte; +"I'm not at all tired, and how can fresh air and +sunshine make one melancholy?"</p> + +<p>"Maybe, now, sad thoughts are catching. I +was having a few. Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. Why were you having sad +thoughts?"</p> + +<p>"Well, then, I really can't understand why. +There's no need to fret over changes. At the +long end the great change puts all right. Charlotte, +I have been coming to Barf Latrigg's +shearings for about half a century. I remember +the first. I held my nurse's hand, and wore +such a funny little coat, and such a big lace +collar. And, dear me! it was just such a day +as this, thirty-two years ago, that your mother +walked up to the shearing with me, Charlotte; +and I asked her if she would be my wife, and +she said she would. Thou takes after her a +<a name="Page_31" id="Page_31"></a>good deal; she had the very same bright eyes +and bonny face, and straight, tall shape thou +has to-day. Barf Latrigg was sixty then, turning +a bit gray, but able to shear with any man +they could put against him. He'll be ninety +now; but his father lived till he was more than +a hundred, and most of his fore-elders touched +the century. He's had his troubles too."</p> + +<p>"I never heard of them."</p> + +<p>"No. They are dead and buried. A dead +trouble may be forgot: it is the living troubles +that make the eyes dim, and the heart fail. +Yes, yes; Barf is as happy as a boy now, but I +remember when he was back-set and fore-set +with trouble. In life every thing goes round +like a cart-wheel. Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>In a short time they reached the outer wall +of the farm. They were eight hundred feet +above the valley; and looking backwards upon +the woods from their airy shelf, the tops of the +trees appeared like a solid green road, on which +they might drop down and walk. Stone steps +in the stone wall admitted them into the enclosure, +and then they saw the low gray house +spreading itself in the shadow of the noble +sycamores—</p><p><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32"></a></p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +... "musical with bees;<br /> +Such tents the patriarchs loved."<br /> +</div> + +<p>As they approached, the old statesman strode +to the open door to meet them. He was a very +tall man, with a bright, florid face, and a great +deal of fine, white hair. Two large sheep-dogs, +which only wanted a hint to be uncivil, walked +beside him. He had that independent manner +which honorable descent and absolute ownership +of house and land give; and he looked +every inch a gentleman, though he wore only +the old dalesman's costume,—breeches of +buckskin fastened at the knees with five silver +buttons, home-knit stockings and low shoes, +and a red waistcoat, open that day, in order to +show the fine ruffles on his shirt. He was precisely +what Squire Sandal would have been, if +the Sandals had not been forced by circumstances +into contact with a more cultivated and +a more ambitious life.</p> + +<p>"Welcome, Sandal! I have been watching +for thee. There would be little prosperation in +a shearing if thou wert absent. And a good +day to thee, Charlotte. My Ducie was speaking +of thee a minute ago. Here she comes to +help thee off with thy things."</p><p><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33"></a></p> + +<p>Charlotte was untying her bonnet as she +entered the deep, cool porch, and a moment +afterward Ducie was at her side. It was easy +to see the women loved each other, though +Ducie only smiled, and said, "Come in; I'm +right glad to see you, Charlotte. Come into t' +best room, and cool your face a bit. And how +is Mrs. Sandal and Sophia? Be things at their +usual, dear?"</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Ducie; all and every thing is +well,—I hope. We have not heard from +Harry lately. I think it worrits father a little, +but he is never the one to show it. Oh, how +sweet this room is!"</p> + +<p>She was standing before the old-fashioned +swivel mirror, that had reflected three generations,—a +fair, bright girl, with the light and +hope of youth in her face. The old room, with +its oak walls, immense bed, carved awmries, +drawers, and cupboards, made a fine environment +for so much life and color. And yet there +were touches in it that resembled her, and +seemed to be the protest of the present with +the past,—vivid green and scarlet masses of +geranium and fuchsia in the latticed window, +and a great pot of odorous flowers upon the +<a name="Page_34" id="Page_34"></a>hearthstone. But the peculiar sweetness which +Charlotte noticed came from the polished oak +floor, which was strewed with bits of rosemary +and lavender, to prevent the slipping of the +feet upon it.</p> + +<p>Charlotte looked down at them as she ejaculated, +"How sweet this room is!" and the +shadow of a frown crossed her face. "I would +not do it, Ducie, for any one," she said. +"Poor herbs of grace! What sin have they +committed to be trodden under foot? I would +not do it, Ducie: I feel as if it hurt them."</p> + +<p>"Nay, now; flowers grow to be pulled dear, +just as lasses grow to be loved and married."</p> + +<p>"Is that what you think, Ducie? Some +cherished in the jar; some thrown under the +feet, and bruised to death,—the feet of wrong +and sorrow,"—</p> + +<p>"Don't you talk that way, Charlotte. It isn't +lucky for girls to talk of wrong and sorrow. +Talking of things bespeaks them. There's +always <i>them</i> that hear; <i>them</i> that we don't see. +And everybody pulls flowers, dearie."</p> + +<p>"I don't. If I pull a rose, I always believe +every other rose on that tree is sad about it. +They may be in families, Ducie, who can tell?<a name="Page_35" id="Page_35"></a> +And the little roses may be like the little +children, and very dear to the grown roses."</p> + +<p>"Why, what fancies! Let us go into the +yard, and see the shearing. You've made me +feel as if I'd never like to pull a posy again. +You shouldn't say such things, indeed you +shouldn't: you've given me quite a turn, I'm +sure."</p> + +<p>As Ducie talked, they went through the +back-door into a large yard walled in from +the hillside, and having in it three grand old +sycamores. One of these was at the top of +the enclosure, and a circle of green shadow +like a tent was around it. In this shadow +the squire and the statesman were sitting. +Their heads were uncovered, their long clay +pipes in their hands; and, with a placid complacency, +they were watching the score of busy +men before them. Many had come long distances +to try their skill against each other; for +the shearings at Latrigg's were a pastoral +game, at which it was a local honor to be the +winner. There the young statesman who +could shear his six score a day found others +of a like capacity, and it was Greek against +Greek at Up-Hill shearing that afternoon.</p><p><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36"></a></p> + +<p>"I had two thousand sheep to get over," +said Latrigg, "but they'll be bare by sunset, +squire. That isn't bad for these days. When +I was young we wouldn't have thought so +much of two thousand, but every dalesman +then knew what good shearing was. <i>Now</i>," +and the old man shook his head slowly, +"good shearers are few and far between. Why, +there's some here from beyond Kirkstone Pass +and Nab Scar!"</p> + +<p>It was customary for young people of all +conditions to give men as aged as Barf Latrigg +the honorable name of "grandfather;" and +Charlotte said, as she sat down in the breezy +shadow beside him, "Who is first, grandfather?"</p> + +<p>"Why, our Stephen, to be sure! They'll +have to be up before day-dawn to keep sidey +with our Steve.—Steve, how many is thou +ahead now?" The voice that asked the question, +though full of triumph, was thin and +weak; but the answer came back in full, mellow +tones,—</p> + +<p>"Fifteen ahead, grandfather."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm so glad!"</p> + +<p>"Charlotte Sandal says 'she's so glad.'<a name="Page_37" id="Page_37"></a> +Now then, if thou loses ground, I wouldn't +give a ha'penny for thee."</p> + +<p>Then the women who were folding the fleeces +on tables under the other two sycamores lifted +their eyes, and glanced at Steve; and some of +the elder ones sent him a merry jibe, and some +of the younger ones, smiles, that made his +brown handsome face deepen in color; but he +was far too earnest in his work to spare a +moment for a reply. By and by, the squire +put down his pipe, and sat watching with his +hands upon his knees. And a stray child crept +up to Charlotte, and climbed upon her lap, and +went to sleep there, and the wind flecked these +four representatives of four generations all +over with wavering shadows; and Ducie came +backwards and forwards, and finally carried +the sleeping child into the house; and Stephen, +busy as he was, saw every thing that went on +in the group under the top sycamore.</p> + +<p>Even before sundown, the last batch of +sheep were fleeced and <i>smitten</i>,<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> and turned on +to the hillside; and Charlotte, leaning over the +wall, watched them wander contentedly up the +<a name="Page_38" id="Page_38"></a>fell, with their lambs trotting beside them. +Grandfather and the squire had gone into the +house; Ducie was calling her from the open +door; she knew it was tea-time, and she was +young and healthy and hungry enough to be +glad of it.</p> + +<p>At the table she met Stephen. The strong, +bare-armed Hercules, whom she had watched +tossing the sheep around for his shears as +easily as if they had been kittens under his +hands, was now dressed in a handsome tweed +suit, and looking quite as much of a gentleman +as the most fastidious maiden could desire. He +came in after the meal had begun, flushed somewhat +with his hard labor, and perhaps, also, with +the hurry of his toilet; but there was no embarrassment +in his manner. It had never yet +entered Stephen's mind that there was any +occasion for embarrassment, for the friendship +between the squire's family and his own had +been devoid of all sense of inequality. The +squire was "the squire," and was perhaps richer +than Latrigg, but even that fact was uncertain; +and the Sandals had been to court, and married +into county families; but then the Latriggs had +been for exactly seven hundred years the neighbors +<a name="Page_39" id="Page_39"></a>of Sandal,—good neighbors, shoulder to +shoulder with them in every trial or emergency.</p> + +<p>The long friendship had never known but one +temporary shadow, and this had been during +the time that the present squire's mother ruled +in Sandal; the Mistress Charlotte whose influence +was still felt in the old seat. She had +entirely disapproved the familiar affection with +which Latrigg met her husband, and it was +said the disputes which drove one of her sons +from his home were caused by her determination +to break up the companionship existing +between the young people of the two houses at +that time.</p> + +<p>The squire remembered it. He had also, in +some degree, regarded his mother's prejudices +while she lived; but, after her death, Sophia +and Charlotte, as well as their brother, began +to go very often to Up-Hill Farm. Naturally +Stephen, who was Ducie's son, became the +companion of Harry Sandal; and the girls grew +up in his sight like two beautiful sisters. It +was only within the past year that he had begun +to understand that one was dearer to him +than the other; but though none of the three +was now ignorant of the fact, it was as yet +<a name="Page_40" id="Page_40"></a>tacitly ignored. The knowledge had not been +pleasant to Sophia; and to Charlotte and Stephen +it was such a delicious uncertainty, that +they hardly desired to make it sure; and they +imagined their secret was all their own, and +were so happy in it, that they feared to look too +curiously into their happiness.</p> + +<p>There was to be a great feast and dance that +night: and, as they sat at the tea-table, they +heard the mirth and stir of its preparation; but +it came into the room only like a pleasant echo, +mingling with the barking of the sheep-dogs, +and the bleating of the shorn sheep upon the +fells, and the murmur of their quiet conversation +about "the walks" Latrigg owned, and the +scrambling, black-faced breed whose endurance +made them so profitable. Something was also +said of other shearings to which Stephen must +go, if he would assure his claim to be "top-shearer," +and of the wool-factories which the +most astute statesmen were beginning to build.</p> + +<p>"If I were a younger man, I'd be in with +them," said Latrigg. "I'd spin and weave +my own fleeces, and send them to Leeds market, +with no go-between to share my profits." +And Steve put in a sensible word now and then, +<a name="Page_41" id="Page_41"></a>and passed the berry-cake and honey and cream; +and withal met Charlotte's eyes, and caught her +smiles, and was as happy as love and hope could +make him.</p> + +<p>After tea the squire wished to go; but Latrigg +said, "Smoke one pipe with me Sandal," and +they went into the porch together. Then Steve +and Charlotte sauntered about the garden, or, +leaning on the stone wall, looked down into the +valley, or away off to the hills. Many things +they said to each other which seemed to mean +so little, but which meant so much when love +was the interpreter. For Charlotte was eighteen +and Stephen twenty-two; and when mortals +still so young are in love, they are quite +able to create worlds out of nothing.</p> + +<p>After a while the squire lifted his eyes, and +took in the bit of landscape which included +them. The droop of the young heads towards +each other, and their air of happy confidence, +awakened a vague suspicion in his heart. Perhaps +Latrigg was conscious of it; for he said, +as if in answer to the squire's thought, "Steve +will have all that is mine. It's a deal easier to +die, Sandal, when you have a fine lad like Steve +to leave the old place to."</p><p><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42"></a></p> + +<p>"Steve is in the female line. That's a deal +different to having sons. Lasses are cold comfort +for sons. Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>"To be sure; but I've given Steve my name. +Any one not called Latrigg at Up-Hill would +seem like a stranger."</p> + +<p>"I know how you feel about that. A squire +in Seat-Sandal out of the old name would have +a very middling kind of time, I think. He'd +have a sight of ill-will at his back."</p> + +<p>"Thou means with <i>them</i>!"</p> + +<p>The squire nodded gravely; and after a minute's +silence said, "It stands to reason <i>they</i> take +an interest. I do in them. When I think of +this or that Sandal, or when I look up at their +faces as I sit smoking beside them, I'm sure I +feel like their son; and I wouldn't grieve them +any more than if they were to be seen and talked +to. It's none likely, then, that <i>they</i> forget. I +know they don't."</p> + +<p>"I'm quite of thy way of thinking, Sandal; +but Steve will be called Latrigg. He has +never known any other name, thou sees."</p> + +<p>"To be sure. Is Ducie willing?"</p> + +<p>"Poor lass! She never names Steve's +father. He'd no business in her life, and he +<a name="Page_43" id="Page_43"></a>very soon went out of it. Stray souls will get +into families they have no business in, sometimes. +They make a deal of unhappiness when +they do."</p> + +<p>Sandal sat listening with a sympathetic face. +He hoped Latrigg was going to tell him something +definite about his daughter's trouble; but +the old man puffed, puffed, in silence a few +minutes, and then turned the conversation. +However, Sandal had been touched on a point +where he was exceedingly sensitive; and he +rose with a sigh, and said, "Well, well, Latrigg, +good-by. I'll go down the fell now. Come, +Charlotte."</p> + +<p>Unconsciously he spoke with an authority +not usual to him, and the parting was a little +silent and hurried; for Ducie was in the +throng of her festival, and rather impatient for +Stephen's help. Only Latrigg walked to the +gate with them. He looked after Sandal and +his daughter with a grave, but not unhappy +wistfulness; and when a belt of larches hid +them from his view, he turned towards the +house, saying softly,—</p> + +<p>"It is like to be my last shearing. Very +soon this life will <i>have been</i>, but through<a name="Page_44" id="Page_44"></a> +Christ's mercy I have the over-hand of the +future."</p> + +<p>It was almost as hard to go down the fell as +to come up it, for the road was very steep and +stony. The squire took it leisurely, carrying +his straw hat in his hand, and often standing +still to look around him. The day had been +very warm; and limpid vapors hung over the +mountains, like something far finer than mist,—like +air made visible,—giving them an appearance +of inconceivable remoteness, full of +grandeur; for there is a sublimity of distance, +as well as a sublimity of height. He made +Charlotte notice them. "Maybe, many a year +after this, you'll see the hills look just that +way, dearie; then think on this evening and +on me."</p> + +<p>She did not speak, but she looked into his +face, and clasped his hand tightly. She was +troubled with her own mood. Try as she +would, it was impossible to prevent herself +drifting into most unusual silences. Stephen's +words and looks filled her heart; she had only +half heard the things her father had been saying. +Never before had she found an hour in +her life when she wished for solitude in preference +<a name="Page_45" id="Page_45"></a>to his society,—her good, tender father. +She put Stephen out of her mind, and tried +again to feel all her old interest in his plans for +their amusement. Alas, alas! The first secret, +especially if it be a love-secret, makes a break +in that sweet, confidential intercourse between +a parent and child which nothing restores. +The squire hardly comprehended that there +might be a secret. Charlotte was unthoughtful +of wrong; but still there was a repression, a +something undefinable between them, impalpable, +but positive as a breath of polar air. +She noticed the mountains, for he made her +do so; but the birds sang sleepy songs to her +unheeded, and the yellow asphodels made a +kind of sunshine at her feet that she never +saw; and even her father's voice disturbed the +dreamy charm of thoughts that touched a +deeper, sweeter joy than moor or mountain, +bird or flower, had ever given her.</p> + +<p>Before they reached home, the squire had +also become silent. He came into the hall +with the face of one dissatisfied and unhappy. +The feeling spread through the house, as a +drop of ink spreads itself through a glass of +water. It almost suited Sophia's mood, and<a name="Page_46" id="Page_46"></a> +Mrs. Sandal was not inclined to discuss it until +the squire was alone with her. Then she +asked the question of all questions the most +irritating, "What is the matter with you, +squire?"</p> + +<p>"What is the matter, indeed? Love-making. +That is the matter, Alice."</p> + +<p>"Charlotte?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"And Stephen Latrigg?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"I thought as much. Opportunity is a +dangerous thing."</p> + +<p>"My word! To hear you talk, one would +think it was matterless how our girls married."</p> + +<p>"It is never matterless how any girl marries, +squire; and our Charlotte"—</p> + +<p>"Oh, I thought Charlotte was a child yet! +How could I tell there was danger at Up-Hill? +You ought to have looked better after +your daughters. See that she doesn't go near-hand +Latrigg's again."</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't be so foolish, William. It's a +deal better not to notice. Make no words +about it; and, if you don't like Stephen, send<a name="Page_47" id="Page_47"></a> +Charlotte away a bit. Half of young people's +love-affairs is just because they are handy to +each other."</p> + +<p>"'Like Stephen!' It is more than a matter +of liking, as you know very well. If Harry +Sandal goes on as he has been going, there +will be little enough left for the girls; and they +must marry where money will not be wanted. +More than that, I've been thinking of brother +Tom's boy for one of them. Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>"You mean, you have been writing to Tom +about a marriage? I would have been above +a thing like that, William. I suppose you did +it to please your mother. She always did hanker +after Tom, and she always did dislike the +Latriggs. I have heard that when people +were in the grave they 'ceased from troubling,' +but"—</p> + +<p>"Alice!"</p> + +<p>"I meant no harm, squire, I'm sure; and I +would not say wrong of the dead for any thing, +specially of your mother; but I think about +my own girls."</p> + +<p>"There, now, Alice, don't whimper and cry. +I am not going to harm your girls, not I. Only +mother was promised that Tom's son should +<a name="Page_48" id="Page_48"></a>have the first chance for their favor. I'm sure +there's nothing amiss in that. Eh?"</p> + +<p>"A young man born in a foreign country +among blacks, or very near blacks. And nobody +knows who his mother was."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! his mother was a judge's daughter, +and she had a deal of money. Her son has +been well done to; sent to the very best German +and French schools, and now he is at Oxford. +I dare say he is a very good young man, +and at any rate he is the only Sandal of this +generation except our own boy."</p> + +<p>"Your sisters have sons."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mary has three: they are <i>Lockerbys</i>. +Elizabeth has two: they are <i>Piersons</i>. My poor +brother Launcie was drowned, and never had +son or daughter; so that Tom's Julius is the +nearest blood we have."</p> + +<p>"Julius! I never heard tell of such a name."</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is a silly kind of a foreign name. +His mother is called Julia: I suppose that is +how it comes. No Sandal was ever called such +a name before, but the young man mustn't be +blamed for his godfather's foolishness, Alice. +Eh?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not so unjust. Poor Launcie! I saw +<a name="Page_49" id="Page_49"></a>him once at a ball in Kendal. Are you sure he +was drowned?"</p> + +<p>"I followed him to Whitehaven, and found +out that he had gone away in a ship that never +came home. Mother and Launcie were in bad +bread when he left, and she never fretted for +him as she did for Tom."</p> + +<p>"Why did you not tell me all this before?"</p> + +<p>"I said to myself, there's time enough yet to +be planning husbands for girls that haven't a +thought of the kind. We were very happy +with them; I couldn't bear to break things up; +and I never once feared about Steve Latrigg, +not I."</p> + +<p>"What does your brother and his wife say?"</p> + +<p>"Tom is with me. As for his wife, I know +nothing of her, and she knows nothing of us. +She has been in England a good many times, +but she never said she would like to come and +see us, and my mother never wanted to see her; +so there wasn't a compliment wasted, you see. +Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>"No, I don't see, William. All about it is +in a muddle, and I must say I never heard tell +of such ways. It is like offering your own flesh +and blood for sale. And to people who want +<a name="Page_50" id="Page_50"></a>nothing to do with us. I'm astonished at you, +squire."</p> + +<p>"Don't go on so, Alice. Tom and I never +had any falling out. He just got out of the +way of writing. He likes India, and he had his +own reasons for not liking England in any +shape you could offer England to him. There's +no back reckonings between Tom and me, and +he'll be glad for Julius to come to his own people. +We will ask Julius to Sandal; and you say, +yourself, that the half of young folks' loving is +in being handy to each other. Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>"I never thought you would bring my words +up that way. But I'll tell you one thing, my +girls are not made of melted wax, William. +You'll be a wise man, and a strong man, if you +get a ring on their fingers, if they don't want it +there. Sophia will say very soft and sweet, 'No, +thank you, father;' and you'll move Scawfell +and Langdale Pikes before you get her beyond +it. As for Charlotte, you yourself will stand +'making' better than she will. And you know +that nothing short of an earthquake can lift you +an inch outside your own way."</p> + +<p>And perhaps Sandal thought the hyperbole a +compliment; for he smiled a little, and walked +<a name="Page_51" id="Page_51"></a>away, with what his wife privately called "a +peacocky air," saying something about "Greek +meeting Greek" as he did so. Mrs. Sandal did +not in the least understand him: she wondered +a little over the remark, and then dismissed it +as "some of the squire's foolishness."</p><p><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52"></a></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III.</h2> + +<h3>JULIUS SANDAL.</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"Variety's the very spice of life<br /> +That gives it all its flavor."</p> + +<p>"Domestic happiness, thou only bliss<br /> +Of Paradise that has survived the fall."</p><br /> +</div> + + +<p>Life has a chronology quite independent of +the almanac. The heart divides it into +periods. When the sheep-shearing had been +forgotten by all others, the squire often looked +back to it with longing. It was a boundary +which he could never repass, and which shut +him out forever from the happy days of his +daughters' girlhood,—the days when they had +no will but his will, and no pleasures but in his +smile and companionship. His son Harry had +never been to him what Sophia and Charlotte +were. Harry had spent his boyhood in public +schools, and, when his education was completed, +had defied all the Sandal traditions, and gone +into the army. At this time he was with his +<a name="Page_53" id="Page_53"></a>regiment,—the old Cameronian,—in Edinburgh. +And in other points, besides his choice +of the military profession, Harry had asserted +his will against his father's will. But the +squire's daughters gave him nothing but delight. +He was proud of their beauty, proud of +Charlotte's love of out-door pleasures, proud of +Sophia's love of books; and he was immeasurably +happy in their affection and obedience.</p> + +<p>If Sandal had been really a wise man he +would have been content with his good fortune; +and like the happy Corinthian have only prayed, +"O goddess, let the days of my prosperity continue!" +But he had the self-sufficiency and +impatience of a man who is without peer in his +own small arena. He believed himself to be as +capable of ordering his daughters' lives as of +directing his sheep "walks," or the change of +crops in his valley and upland meadows.</p> + +<p>Suddenly it had been revealed to him, that +Stephen Latrigg had found his way into a life +he thought wholly his own. Until that moment +of revelation he had liked Stephen; but he +liked him no longer. He felt that Stephen had +stolen the privilege he should have asked for, +and he deeply resented the position the young +<a name="Page_54" id="Page_54"></a>man had taken. On the contrary, Stephen had +been guilty of no intentional wrong. He had +simply grown into an affection too sweet to be +spoken of, too uncertain and immature to be +subjected to the prudential rules of daily life; +yet, had the question been plainly put to him, +he would have gone at once to the squire, and +said, "I love Charlotte, and I ask for your sanction +to my love." He would have felt such an +acknowledgment to be the father's most sacred +and evident right, and he was thinking of making +it at the very hour in which Sandal was +feeling bitterly toward him for its omission. +And thus the old, old tragedy of mutual misunderstanding +works to sorrowful ends.</p> + +<p>The night of the sheep-shearing the squire +could not sleep. To lay awake and peer into +the future through the dark hours was a new +experience, and it made him full of restless +anxieties. Of course he expected Sophia and +Charlotte to marry, but not just yet. He had +so far persistently postponed the consideration +of this subject, and he was angry at Stephen +Latrigg for showing him that further delay +might be dangerous to his own plans.</p> + +<p>"A presumptuous young coxcomb," he muttered.<a name="Page_55" id="Page_55"></a> +"Does he think that being 'top-shearer' +gives him a right to make love to Charlotte +Sandal?"</p> + +<p>In the morning he wrote the following +letter:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">Nephew Julius Sandal</span>,—I hear you are at Oxford, +and I should think you would wish to make the +acquaintance of your nearest relatives. They will be glad +to see you at Seat-Sandal during the vacation, if your +liking leads you that way. To hear soon from you is the +hope of your affectionate uncle,</p> + +<p>WILLIAM SANDAL, <i>of Sandal-Side</i>.</p></div> + +<p>He finished the autograph with a broad flourish, +and handed the paper to his wife. "What +do you think of that, Alice? Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>There was a short silence, then Mrs. Sandal +laid the note upon the table. "I don't think +over much of it, William. Good-fortune won't +bear hurrying. Can't you wait till events ripen +naturally?"</p> + +<p>"And have all my plans put out of the +way?"</p> + +<p>"Are you sure that your plans are the best +plans?"</p> + +<p>"They will be a bit better than any Charlotte +and Stephen Latrigg have made."</p><p><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56"></a></p> + +<p>"I don't believe they have such a thing as a +plan between them. But if you think so, send +Charlotte to her aunt Lockerby for a few +months. Love is just like fire: it goes out if +it hasn't fuel."</p> + +<p>"Nay, I want Charlotte here. After our +Harry, Julius is the next heir, and I'm set on +him marrying one of the girls. If he doesn't +like Sophia he may like Charlotte. I have +two chances then, and I'm not going to throw +one away for Steve Latrigg's liking or loving. +Don't you see, Alice? Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>"No: I never was one to see beyond the +horizon. But if you must have to-morrow in +to-day, why then send off your letter. I would +let 'well' alone. When change comes to the +door, it is time enough to ask it over the +threshold. We are very happy now, William, +and every happy day is so much certain gain +in life."</p> + +<p>"That is a woman's way of talking. A man +looks for the future."</p> + +<p>"And how seldom does he get what he looks +for. But I know you, William Sandal. You will +take your own way, be it good or bad; and what +is more, you will make others take it with you."</p><p><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57"></a></p> + +<p>"I am inviting my own nephew, Alice. Eh? +What?"</p> + +<p>"You know nothing about it. There are +kin that are not kindred. You are inviting +you know not who or what. But,"—and she +pushed the letter towards him, with a gesture +which seemed to say, "I am not responsible for +the consequences."</p> + +<p>The squire after a moment's thought accepted +them. He went into the yard, humming +a strain of "The Bay of Biscay," and gave the +letter to a groom, with orders to take it at once +to the post-office. Then he called Charlotte +from the rose-walk. "The horses are saddled," +he said, "and I want you to trot over to Dalton +with me."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Sandal had gone to her eldest daughter. +She was in the habit of seeking Sophia's +advice; or, more strictly speaking, she liked to +discuss with her the things she had already +determined to do. Sophia was sitting in the +coolest and prettiest of gowns, working out +with elaborate care a pencil drawing of Rydal +Mount. She listened to her mother with the +utmost respect and attention, and her fine color +brightened slightly at the mention of Julius<a name="Page_58" id="Page_58"></a> +Sandal; but she never neglected once to +change an F or an H pencil for a B at the +precise stroke the change was necessary.</p> + +<p>"And so you see, Sophia, we may have a +strange young man in the house for weeks, and +where to put him I can't decide. And I wanted +to begin the preserving and the raspberry vinegar +next week, but your father is as thoughtless +as ever was; and I am sure if Julius is +like <i>his</i> father he'll be no blessing in a house, +for I have heard your grandmother speak in +such a way of her son Tom."</p> + +<p>"I thought uncle Tom was grandmother's +favorite."</p> + +<p>"I mean of his high temper and fine ways, +and his quarrels with his eldest brother Launcelot."</p> + +<p>"Oh! What did they quarrel about?"</p> + +<p>"A good many things; among the rest, +about the Latriggs. There was more than +one pretty girl at Up-Hill then, and the young +men all knew it. Tom and his mother were +always finger and thumb. He was her youngest +boy, and she fretted after him all her life."</p> + +<p>"And uncle Launcelot, did she not fret for +him?"</p><p><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59"></a></p> + +<p>"Not so much. Launcelot was the eldest, +and very set in his own way: she couldn't +order him around."</p> + +<p>"The eldest? Then father would not have +been squire of Sandal-Side if Launcelot had +lived?"</p> + +<p>"No, indeed. Launcelot's death made a +deal of difference to your father and me. +Father was very solemn and set about his +brother's rights; and even after grandfather +died, he didn't like to be called 'squire' until +every hope was long gone. But I would as +soon have thought of poor Launcie coming +back from the dead as of Tom's son visiting +here; and it is inconvenient right now, exceedingly +so; harvesting coming on, and preserving +time, and none of the spare rooms opened since +the spring cleaning."</p> + +<p>"It is trying for you, mother, but perhaps +Julius may not be very much trouble. He'll +be with father all the time, and he'll make a +change."</p> + +<p>"Change! That is just what I dread. +Young people are always for change. They +are certain that every change must be a gain. +Old people know that changes mean loss of +<a name="Page_60" id="Page_60"></a>some kind or other. After one is forty years +old, Sophia, the seasons bring change enough."</p> + +<p>"I dare say they do, mother. I don't care +much for change, even at my age. Have you +told Charlotte?"</p> + +<p>"No, I haven't told her yet. I think she is +off to Dalton. Father said he was going this +morning, and he never would go without her."</p> + +<p>Indeed, the squire and his younger daughter +were at that moment cantering down the valley, +mid the fresh green of the fields, and the +yellow of the ripening wheat, and the hazy purple +of mountains holding the whole landscape +in their solemn shelter except in front, where +the road stretched to the sea, amid low hills +overgrown with parsley-fern and stag's-horn-moss. +They had not gone very far before they +met Stephen Latrigg. He was well mounted +and handsomely dressed; and, as he bowed to +the squire and Charlotte, his happy face expressed +a delight which Sandal in his present +mood felt to be offensive. Evidently Steve +intended to accompany them as far as their +roads were identical; but the squire pointedly +drew rein, and by the cool civility of his manner +made the young man so sensible of his intrusion, +<a name="Page_61" id="Page_61"></a>that he had no alternative but to take +the hint. He looked at Charlotte with eyes +full of tender reproach, and she was too unprepared +for such a speedy termination to their +meeting to oppose it. So Stephen was galloping +at headlong speed in advance, before she +realized that he had been virtually refused their +company.</p> + +<p>"Father, why did you do that?"</p> + +<p>"Do what, Charlotte? Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>"Send Steve away. I am sure I do not +know what to make of you doing such a thing. +Poor Steve!"</p> + +<p>"Well, then, I had my reason for it. Did +you see the way he looked at you? Eh? +What?"</p> + +<p>"Dear me! A cat may look at a king. +Did you send Steve away for a look? You +have put me about, father."</p> + +<p>"There's looks and other looks, my lass. +Cats don't look at kings the way Steve looked +at you. Now, then, I want no love-making +between you and Steve Latrigg."</p> + +<p>"What nonsense! Steve hasn't said a word +of love-making, as you call it."</p> + +<p>"I thought you had all your woman-senses,<a name="Page_62" id="Page_62"></a> +Charlotte. Bethink you of the garden walk +last night."</p> + +<p>"We were talking all the time of the sweetbrier +and hollyhocks,—and things like that."</p> + +<p>"You might have talked of the days of the +week or the multiplication-table: one kind of +words was just as good as another. Any +thing Steve said last night could have been +spelled with four letters."</p> + +<p>"Four letters?"</p> + +<p>"To be sure. L-o-v-e."</p> + +<p>"You used to like Stephen."</p> + +<p>"I like all bright, honest, good lads; but +when they want to make love to Miss Charlotte +Sandal, they think one thing, and I think +another. There has been ill-luck with love-making +between the Sandals and the Latriggs. +My brothers Launcie and Tom quarrelled about +one of Barf Latrigg's daughters, and mother +lost them both through her. There is no love-line +between the two houses, or if there is +nothing can make it run straight. Don't you +try to, Charlotte; neither the dead nor the +living will like it or have it."</p> + +<p>He intended then to tell her about Julius +Sandal, but a look at her face checked him.<a name="Page_63" id="Page_63"></a> +He had a wise perception about women; and +he reflected that he had very seldom repented +of speaking too little to them, but very often +repented of speaking too much. So he dropped +Stephen, and dropped Julius; and began to talk +about the fish in the becks and tarns, and the +new breed of sheep he was trying in the lower +"walks." Ere long they came into the rich +valley of Furness; and he made her notice the +difference between it and the vale of Esk and +Duddon, with its dreary waste of sullen moss +and unfruitful solitudes.</p> + +<p>"Those old Cistercian monks that built Furness +Abbey knew how to choose a bit of good +land, Charlotte. Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose so. What did they do with it?"</p> + +<p>"Let it out."</p> + +<p>"I wonder who would want to come here +seven hundred years ago."</p> + +<p>"You don't know what you are saying, Charlotte. +There were great men here then, and +great deeds doing. King Stephen kept things +very lively; and the Scots were always running +over the Border for cattle and sheep, and any +thing else they could lay their hands on. And +the monks had great flocks, so they rented +<a name="Page_64" id="Page_64"></a>their lands to companies of four fighting men; +and one of the four was to be ready day and +night to protect the sheep, and the Scots kept +them busy. Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>"The Musgraves and Armstrongs and +Netherbys, I know," and the cloud passed +from her face; and to the clatter of her horse's +hoofs, she lilted merrily a stanza of an old +border song:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The mountain sheep were sweeter,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the valley sheep were fatter;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We therefore deemed it meeter<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To carry off the latter.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We made an expedition;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We met a force, and quelled it;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We took a strong position,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And killed the men who held it."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>And the squire, who knew the effort it cost +her, fell readily into her mood of forced gayety +until the simulated feeling became a real one; +and they entered Dalton neck and neck together, +after a mile's hard race.</p> + +<p>In the mean time the letter which was to +summon Fate sped to its destination. When +it arrived in Oxford, Julius had left Oxford for +London, and it followed him there. He was +<a name="Page_65" id="Page_65"></a>sitting in his hotel the ensuing night, when it +was delivered into his hands; and as it happened, +he was in a mood most favorable to its +success. He had been down the river on a +picnic, had found his company very tedious; +and early in the day the climate had shown +him what it was capable of, even at mid-summer. +As he sat cowering before the smoky +fire, the rain plashed in the muddy streets, and +dripped mournfully down the dim window-panes. +He was wondering what he must do +with himself during the long vacation. He +was tired of the Continent, he was lonely in +England; and the United States had not then +become the great playground for earth's weary +or curious children.</p> + +<p>Many times the idea of seeking out his own +relations occurred to him. He had promised +his father to do so. But, as a rule, people +haven't much enthusiasm about unknown relations; +and Julius regarded his promise more in +the light of a duty to be performed than as the +realization of a pleasure. Still, on that dreary +night, in the solitary dulness of his very respectable +inn, the Sandals, Lockerbys, and Piersons +became three possible sources of interest.<a name="Page_66" id="Page_66"></a> +While his thoughts were drifting in this direction, +the squire's letter was received; and the +young man, who was something of a fatalist, +accepted it as the solution of a difficulty.</p> + +<p>"Sandal turns the new leaf for me," he +murmured; "the new leaf in the book of life. +I wonder what story will be written in it."</p> + +<p>He answered the invitation while the enthusiasm +of its reception swayed him, and he +promised to follow the letter immediately. +The squire received this information on Saturday +night, as he was sitting with his wife and +daughters. "Your nephew Julius Sandal, +from Calcutta, is coming to pay us a visit, +Alice," he said; and his air was that of a man +who thinks he is communicating a piece of +startling intelligence. But the three women +had already exchanged every possible idea on +the subject, and felt no great interest in its +further discussion.</p> + +<p>"When is he coming?" asked Mrs. Sandal +without enthusiasm; and Sophia supplemented +the question by remarking, "I suppose he has +nowhere else to go."</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't say such things, Sophia; I +would not."</p><p><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67"></a></p> + +<p>"He has been in England some months, +father."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, he was only waiting till he was +asked to come. I'm sure that was a proper +thing. If there is any blame between us, it +is my fault. I sent him a word of welcome +last Wednesday morning, and it is very likely +he will be here to-morrow. I'm sure he hasn't +let any grass grow under his feet. Eh? +What?"</p> + +<p>Charlotte looked up quickly. "<i>Wednesday +morning</i>." She was quite capable of putting +this and that together, and by a momentary +mental process she arrived at an exceedingly +correct estimate of her father's invitation. +Her blue eyes scintillated beneath her dropped +lids; and, though she went calmly on tying the +feather to the fishing-fly she was making, she +said, in a hurried and unsteady voice, "I know +he will be disagreeable, and I have made up +my mind to dislike him."</p> + +<p>Julius Sandal arrived the next morning when +the ladies were preparing for church. He had +passed the night at Ambleside, and driven over +to Sandal in the first cool hours of the day. +The squire was walking about the garden, and +<a name="Page_68" id="Page_68"></a>he saw the carriage enter the park gates. He +said nothing to any one, but laid down his pipe, +and went to meet it. Then Julius made the +first step towards his uncle's affection,—he +left the vehicle when they met, and insisted +upon walking by his side.</p> + +<p>When they reached the house, his valet was +attending to the removal of his luggage, and +they entered the great hall together. At that +moment Mistress Charlotte's remarkable likeness +seemed to force itself upon the squire's +attention. He was unable to resist the impulse +which made him lead his nephew up to it. +"Let me introduce you, first of all, to your +father's mother. I greet you in her name as +well as in my own." As he spoke, the squire +lifted his hat, and Julius did the same. It was +a sudden, and to both men a quite unexpected, +ceremonial; and it gave an air, touching and +unusual, to his welcome.</p> + +<p>And if that man is an ingrate who does not +love his native land, how much more <i>immediate</i>, +tender, and personal must the feeling be for +the <i>home</i> of one's own race. That stately +lady, who seemed to meet him at the threshold, +was only the last of a long, shadowy line, whose +<a name="Page_69" id="Page_69"></a>hands were stretched out to him, even from +the dark, forgotten days in which Lögberg +Sandal laid the foundations of it. Julius was +sensitive, and full of imagination: he felt his +heart beat quick, and his eyes grow dim to the +thought; and he loitered up the wide, low +steps, feeling very like a man going up the +phantom stairway of a dream.</p> + +<p>The squire's cheery voice broke the spell. +"We shall be ready for church in a quarter of +an hour, Julius; will you remain at home, or +go with us?"</p> + +<p>"I should like to go with you."</p> + +<p>"That's good. It is but a walk through the +park: the church is almost at its gates."</p> + +<p>When he returned to the hall, the family +were waiting for him; Mrs. Sandal and her +daughters standing together in a little group, +the squire walking leisurely about with his +hands crossed behind his back. It would have +been to some men a rather trying ordeal to descend +the long flight of stairs, with three pairs +of ladies' eyes watching him; but Julius knew +that he had a striking personal appearance, and +that every appointment of his toilet was faultless. +He knew also the value of the respectable +<a name="Page_70" id="Page_70"></a>middle-aged valet following him, and felt +that his irreproachable manner of serving his +hat and gloves was a satisfactory reflection of +his own importance.</p> + +<p>It is the women of a family that give the +tone and place to it. One glance at his aunt +and cousins satisfied Julius. Mrs. Sandal was +stately and comely, and had the quiet manners +of a high-bred woman. Sophia, in white mull, +with a large hat covered with white drooping +feathers, and a glimmer of gold at her throat +and wrists, was at least picturesque. Of Charlotte, +he saw nothing in the first moments of +their meeting but a pair of bright blue eyes, +and a face as sweet and fresh as if it had been +made out of a rose. He took his place between +the girls, and the squire and his wife walked +behind them. Sophia, being the eldest, took +the initiative, talking softly and thoughtfully, +as it was proper to do upon a Sunday morning.</p> + +<p>The sods under their feet were thick and +green; the oaks and sycamores above them had +the broad shadows of many centuries. The air +was balmy with emanations from the woods and +fields, and full of the expanding melody of +church-bells travelling from hill to hill. Julius +<a name="Page_71" id="Page_71"></a>was conscious of every thing; even of the proud, +shy girl who walked on his left hand, and whose +attitude impressed him as slightly antagonistic. +They soon reached the church, a very ancient +one, built in the bloody days of the Plantagenets +by the two knights whose grim effigies +kept guard within the porch. It was dim and +still when they entered: the congregation all +kneeling at the solemn confession; the clergyman's +voice, low and pathetic, intensifying silence +to which it only added mortal minors of +lament and entreaty. He was a small, spare +man, with a face almost as white as the vesture +of his holy office. Julius glanced up at him, +and for a few minutes forgot all his dreamy +philosophies, aggressive free thought, and shallow +infidelities. He could not resist the influences +around him; and when the people rose, +and the organ filled the silence with melody, +and a young sweet voice chanted joyfully,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>"O come let us sing unto the Lord: let us heartily rejoice in the strength of our salvation.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Let us come before His presence with thanksgiving: and shew ourselves glad in him with Psalms,"—</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>he turned round, and looked up to the singer, +with a heart beating to every triumphant note.<a name="Page_72" id="Page_72"></a> +Then he saw it was Charlotte Sandal; and he +did not wonder at the hearty way in which the +squire joined in the melodious invocation, nor +at his happy face, nor at his shining eyes; and +he said to himself with a sigh, "That is a Psalm +one could sing oftener than once in seven +days."</p> + +<p>He had not noticed Charlotte much as they +went to church: he amended his error as he +returned to the "seat." And he thought that +the old sylvan goddesses must have been as she +was; must have had just the same fresh faces, +and bright brown hair; just the same tall, erect +forms and light steps; just the same garments +of mingled wood-colors and pale green.</p> + +<p>The squire had a very complacent feeling. +He looked upon Julius as a nephew of his own +discovering, and he felt something of a personal +pride in all that was excellent in the young +man. He watched impatiently for his wife to +express her satisfaction, but Mrs. Sandal was +not yet sure that she had any good reason to +express it.</p> + +<p>"Is he not handsome, Alice?"</p> + +<p>"Some people would think so, William. I +like a face I can read."</p><p><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73"></a></p> + +<p>"I'm sure it is a long way better to keep +yourself to yourself. Say what you will, I am +sure he will have plenty of good qualities. Eh? +What?"</p> + +<p>"For instance, a great deal of money."</p> + +<p>"Treat him fair, Alice; treat him fair. You +never were one to be unfair, and I don't think +you'll begin with my nephew."</p> + +<p>"No, I'll never be unfair, not as long as I +live; and I'll take up for Julius Sandal as soon +as I am half sure he deserves it."</p> + +<p>"You can't think what a pleasure it would be +to me if he fancied one of our girls. I've +planned it this many a long day, Alice."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, William, if you have a wish as +strong as that, it is something more than a +wish, it is a kind of right; and I'll never go +against you in any fair matter."</p> + +<p>"And though you spoke scornful of money, +it is a good thing; and the girl Julius marries +will be a rich woman. Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps; but it is the happiness and not +the riches of her child that is a good mother's +reward, and a good father's too. Eh, William?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly, Alice, certainly." But his unspoken +reflection was, "women are that short +<a name="Page_74" id="Page_74"></a>sighted, they cannot put up with a small evil to +prevent a big one."</p> + +<p>He had forgotten that "the wise One" and +the "Counsellor" thought one day's joys and +sorrows "sufficient" for the heart to bear.</p><p><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75"></a></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV.</h2> + +<h3>THUS RUNS THE WORLD AWAY.</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"><p> +"But we mortals<br /> +Planted so lowly, with death to bless us,<br /> +Sorrow no longer."</p> + +<p>"Our choices are our destiny. Nothing is ours that our choices<br /> +have not made ours."</p><br /> +</div> + + +<p>Julius Sandal had precisely those +superficial excellences which the world is +ready to accept at their apparent value; and he +had been in so many schools, and imbibed such +a variety of opinions, that he had a mental suit +for all occasions. "He knows about every +thing," said Sandal to the clergyman, at the +close of an evening spent together,—an evening +in which Julius had been particularly interesting. +"Don't you think so, sir?"</p> + +<p>The rector looked up at the starry sky, and +around the mountain-girdled valley, and answered +slowly, "He has a great many ideas, +squire; but they are second-hand, and do not +fit his intellect."</p><p><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76"></a></p> + +<p>Charlotte had much the same opinion of the +paragon, only she expressed it in a different +way. "He believes in every thing, and he +might as well believe in nothing. Confucius +and Christ are about the same to him, and he +thinks Juggernaut only 'a clumsier spelling of +a name which no man spells correctly.'"</p> + +<p>"His mind is like a fine mosaic, Charlotte."</p> + +<p>"Oh, indeed, Sophia, I don't think so! +Mosaics have a design and fit it. The mind of +Julius is more like that quilt of a thousand +pieces which grandmother patched. There +they are, the whole thousand, just bits of color, +all sizes and shapes. I would rather have a +good square of white Marseilles."</p> + +<p>"I don't think you ought to speak in such a +way, Charlotte. You can't help seeing how +much he admires you."</p> + +<p>There was a tone in Sophia's carefully modulated +voice which made Charlotte turn, and +look at her sister. She was sitting at her embroidery-frame, +and apparently counting the +stitches in the rose-leaf she was copying; but +Charlotte noticed that her hand trembled, and +that she was counting at random. In a +moment the veil fell from her eyes: she +<a name="Page_77" id="Page_77"></a>understood that Sophia was in love with Julius, +and fearful of her own influence over him. +She had been about to leave the room: she +returned to the window, and stood at it a few +moments, as if considering the assertion.</p> + +<p>"I should be very sorry if that were the case, +Sophia."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"Because I do not admire Julius in any way. +I never could admire him. I don't want to be +in debt to him for even one-half hour of sentimental +affection."</p> + +<p>"You should let him understand that, Charlotte, +if it be so."</p> + +<p>"He must be very dull if he does not understand."</p> + +<p>"When father and you went fishing yesterday, +he went with you."</p> + +<p>"Why did you not come also? We begged +you to do so."</p> + +<p>"Because I hate to be hot and untidy, and to +get my hands soiled, and my face flushed. +That was your condition when you returned +home; but all the same, he said you looked +like a water-nymph or a wood-nymph."</p> + +<p>"I think very little of him for such talk.<a name="Page_78" id="Page_78"></a> +There is nothing 'nymphy' about me. I +should hate myself if there were. I am going +to write, and ask Harry to get a furlough for a +few weeks. I want to talk sensibly to some +one. I am tired of being on the heights or +in the depths all the time; and as for poetry, I +wish I might never hear words that rhyme +again. I've got to feel that way about it, +that if I open a book, and see the lines begin +with capitals, my first impulse is to tear it to +pieces. There, now, you have my opinions, +Sophia!"</p> + +<p>Sophia laughed softly. "Where are you +going? I see you have your bonnet on."</p> + +<p>"I am going to Up-Hill. Grandfather Latrigg +had a fall yesterday, and that's a bad thing +at his age. Father is quite put out about it."</p> + +<p>"Is he going with you?"</p> + +<p>"He was, but two of the shepherds from +Holler Scree have just come for him. There is +something wrong with the flocks."</p> + +<p>"Julius?"</p> + +<p>"He does not know I am going; and if he +did, I should tell him plainly he was not wanted +either at Up-Hill, or on the way to it. Ducie +thinks little of him, and grandfather Latrigg +<a name="Page_79" id="Page_79"></a>makes his face like a stone wall when Julius +talks his finest."</p> + +<p>"They don't understand Julius. How can +they? Steve is their model, and Steve is not +the least like Julius."</p> + +<p>"I should think not."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Never mind. Good-by."</p> + +<p>She shut the door with more emphasis than +she was aware of, and went to her mother for +some cordials and dainties to take with her. +As she passed through the hall the squire +called her, and she followed his voice into the +small parlor which was emphatically "master's +room."</p> + +<p>"I have had very bad news about the Holler +Scree flock, Charlotte, and I must away there +to see what can be done. Tell Barf Latrigg +it is the sheep, and he will understand: he was +always one to put the dumb creatures first. +The kindest thing that is in your own heart say +it to the dear old man for me; will you, Charlotte?"</p> + +<p>"You can trust to me, father."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know I can; for that and more too. +And there is more. I feel a bit about Stephen.<a name="Page_80" id="Page_80"></a> +Happen I was less than kind to him the other +day. But I gave you good reasons, Charlotte; +and I have such confidence in you, that I said +to mother, 'You can send Charlotte. There is +nothing underhand about her. She knows my +will, and she'll do it.' Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, father: I'll be square on all four sides +with you. But I told you there had been no +love-making between me and Steve."</p> + +<p>"Steve was doing his best at it. Depend +upon it he meant love-making; and I must +say I thought you made out to understand him +very well. Maybe I was mistaken. Every +woman is a new book, and a book by herself; +and it isn't likely I can understand them all."</p> + +<p>"Stephen is sure to speak to me about your +being so queer to him. Had I not better tell +the truth?"</p> + +<p>"I have a high opinion of that way. Truth +may be blamed, but it can't be shamed. However, +if he was not making love to you at the +shearing, won't you find it a bit difficult to +speak your mind? Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>"He will understand."</p> + +<p>"Ay, I thought so."</p> + +<p>"Father, we have never had any secrets, you +<a name="Page_81" id="Page_81"></a>and me. If I am not to encourage Stephen +Latrigg, do you want me to marry Julius Sandal?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I never! Such a question! What +for?"</p> + +<p>"Because, at the very first, I want to tell +you that I could not do it—<i>no way</i>. I am +quite ready to give up my will to your will, and +my pleasure to your pleasure. That is my +duty; but to marry cousin Julius is a different +thing."</p> + +<p>"Don't get too far forward, Charlotte. Julius +has not said a word to me about marrying +you."</p> + +<p>"But he is doing his best at it. Depend +upon it he means marrying; and I must say +I thought you made out to understand him +very well. Maybe I was mistaken. Every +man is a new book, and a book by himself; and +it is not likely I can understand them all."</p> + +<p>"Now you are picking up my own words, +and throwing them back at me. That isn't +right. I don't know whatever to say for myself. +Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>"Say, 'dear Charlotte,' and 'good-by Charlotte,' +and take an easy mind with you to<a name="Page_82" id="Page_82"></a> +Holler Scree, father. As far as I am concerned, +I will never grieve you, and never +deceive you,—no, not in the least little thing."</p> + +<p>So she left him. Her face was bright with +smiles, and her words had even a ring of mirth +in them; but below all there was a stubborn +weight that she could not throw off, a darkness +of spirit that no sunshine could brighten. +Since Julius had come into their home, home +had never been the same. There was a +stranger at the table and in all its sweet, familiar +places, and she was sure that to her he +always would be a stranger. Something was +said or done that put them farther apart every +day. She could not understand how any Sandal +could be so absolutely out of her love and +sympathy. Who has not experienced these +invasions of hostile natures? Alien voices, +characters fundamentally different, yet bound +to them by natural ties which the soul refuses +to recognize.</p> + +<p>The somberness of her thoughts affected her +surroundings very much as rain affects the +atmosphere. The hills looked melancholy: +she was aware of every stone on the road. +Alas! this morning she had begun to grow old, +<a name="Page_83" id="Page_83"></a>for she felt that she had <i>a past</i>,—a past that +could never return. Hitherto her life had +been to-day and to-morrow, and to-morrow +always in the sunshine. Hitherto the thought +of Stephen had been blended with something +that was to happen. Now she knew she must +always be remembering the days that for them +would come no more. She found herself reviewing +even her former visits to Up-Hill. In +them also change had begun. And it is over +the young, sorrow triumphs most cruelly. +They are so easily wounded, so inapt to +resist, so harassed by scruples, so astonished +at troubles they cannot comprehend, that their +very sensitiveness prepares them for suffering. +Very bitter tears are shed before we are twenty +years old. At forty we have learned to accept +the inevitable, and to feel many things possible +which we once declared would break our hearts +in two.</p> + +<p>There was an air of great depression also at +Up-Hill. Ducie was full of apprehension. She +said to Charlotte, "When men as old as father +fall, they stumble at their own grave; and I +can't think what I'll do without father."</p> + +<p>"You have Steve."</p><p><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84"></a></p> + +<p>"Steve is going away. He would have left +this morning, but for this fresh trouble. I see +you are startled, Charlotte."</p> + +<p>"I am that. I heard nothing of it. He +moves in a great hurry."</p> + +<p>"He always moves that way, does Steve."</p> + +<p>"How is grandfather?"</p> + +<p>"He has had quite a backening since yesterday +night. He has got 'the call,' Charlotte. +I've had more than one sign of it. Just before +he fell he went into the garden, and brought +in with him a sprig of 'Death-come-quickly.'<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> +'Father,' I asked, 'whatever made you pull +that?' Then he looked so queerly, and answered, +'I didn't pull it, Ducie: I found it on +the wall.' He was quite curious, and sent me +to ask this one and the other one if they had +been in the garden. No one had been there; +and, at the long end, he said, 'Make no more +talk about it, Ducie. There's <i>them</i> that go +up and down the fellside that no one sees. +<i>They</i> lift the latch, and wait not for the open +door, the king's command being urgent. I +have had a message.' He fell an hour afterwards, +Charlotte. He did not think he was +<a name="Page_85" id="Page_85"></a>much hurt at the time, but he got his death-throw. +I know it."</p> + +<p>"I should like to speak to him, Ducie. Tell +him that Charlotte Sandal wants his blessing."</p> + +<p>He was lying on the big oak bed in the best +room, waiting for his dismissal in cheerful +serenity. "Come here, Charlotte," he said; +"stoop down, and let me see you once more. +My sight grows dim. I am going away, dear."</p> + +<p>"O grandfather! is there any thing I can do +for you?"</p> + +<p>"Be a good girl. Be good, and do good. +Stand true to Steve,—remember,—true to +Steve." And he did not seem inclined to talk +more.</p> + +<p>"He is saving his strength for the squire," +said Ducie. "He has a deal to say to him."</p> + +<p>"Father hoped to be back this afternoon."</p> + +<p>"Though it be the darkening when he gets +home, ask him to come at once, Charlotte. +Father is waiting for him, and I don't think he +will pass the turn of the night."</p> + +<p>There were many subtle links of sympathy +between Up-Hill and Sandal. Death could not +be in one house without casting a shadow in +<a name="Page_86" id="Page_86"></a>the other. Julius privately thought such a +fellow-feeling a little stretched. The Latriggs +were on a distinctly lower social footing than +the Sandals. Rich they might be; but they +were not written among the list of county +families, nor had they even married into their +ranks. He could not understand why Barf +Latrigg's death should be allowed to interfere +with life at Seat-Sandal. Yet Mrs. Sandal +was at Up-Hill all the afternoon; and, though +the squire did not get home until quite the +darkening, he went at once, without taking food +or rest, to the dying man.</p> + +<p>"Why, Barf is very near all the same as my +own father," he said. And then, in a lower +voice, "and he may see my father before the +strike of day. I wouldn't miss Barfs last +words for a year of life. I wouldn't that."</p> + +<p>It was a lovely night,—warm, and sweet with +the scent of August lilies, and the rich aromas +of ripening fruit and grain. The great hills +and the peaceful valleys lay under the soft +radiance of a full moon; and there was not a +sound but the gurgle of running water, or the +bark of some solitary sheep-dog, watching the +folds on the high fells. Sophia and Julius +<a name="Page_87" id="Page_87"></a>were walking in the garden, both feeling the +sensitive suggestiveness of the hour, talking +softly together on topics people seldom discuss +in the sunshine,—intimations of lost powers, +prior existences, immortal life. Julius was +learned in the Oriental view of metempsychosis. +Sophia could trace the veiled intuition +through the highest inspiration of Western +thought.</p> + +<p>"It whispers in the heart of every shepherd +on these hills," she said; "and they interpreted +for Mr. Wordsworth the dream of his own +soul."</p> + +<p>"I know, Sophia. I lifted the book yesterday: +your mark was in it." And he recited +in a low, intense voice,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The soul that rises with us, our life's star,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hath had elsewhere its setting,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And cometh from afar:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not in entire forgetfulness,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And not in utter nakedness,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But trailing clouds of glory do we come<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From God, who is our home:'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"Oh, yes!" answered Sophia, lifting her +dark eyes in a real enthusiasm.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><p><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88"></a></p> +<span class="i0">"Though inland far we be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our souls have sight of that immortal sea<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which brought us hither.'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>And they were both very happy in this +luxury of mystical speculation. Eternity was +behind as before them. Soft impulses from +moon and stars, and from the witching beauty +of lonely hills and scented garden-ways, +touched within their souls some primal sympathy +that drew them close to that unseen +boundary dividing spirits from shadow-casting +men. It is true they rather felt than understood; +but when the soul has faith, what +matters comprehension?</p> + +<p>In the cold sweetness of the following dawn, +the squire returned from Up-Hill. "Barf is +gone, Alice," were his first words.</p> + +<p>"But all is well, William."</p> + +<p>"No doubt of it. I met the rector on the +hillside. 'How is Barf?' I asked; and he answered, +'Thank God, he has the mastery!' +Then he went on without another word. Barf +had lost his sight when I got there; but he +knew my voice, and he asked me to lay my face +against his face. 'I've done well to Sandal,—well +to Sandal,' he muttered at intervals.<a name="Page_89" id="Page_89"></a> +'You'll know it some day, William.' I can't +think what he meant. I hope he hasn't left me +any money. I could not take it, Alice."</p> + +<p>"Was that all?"</p> + +<p>"When Steve came in he said something +like 'Charlotte,' and he looked hard at me; and +then again, 'I've done well by Sandal.' But +I was too late. Ducie said he had been very +restless about me earlier in the afternoon: he +was nearly outside life when I got there. We +thought he would speak no more; but about +three o'clock this morning he called quite +clearly, '<i>Ducie, the abbot's cross</i>.' Then Ducie +unlocked the oak chest that stands by the bed-side, +and took from it an ivory crucifix. She +put it in his left hand. With a smile he touched +the Christ upon it; and so, clasping the abbot's +cross, he died."</p> + +<p>"I wonder at that, William. A better +Church-of-England man was not in all the dales +than Barf Latrigg."</p> + +<p>"Ay; but you see, Alice, that cross is older +than the Church of England. It was given to +the first Latrigg of Up-Hill by the first abbot +of Furness. Before the days of Wyckliffe and +Latimer, every one of them, babe and hoary-head, +<a name="Page_90" id="Page_90"></a>died with it in their hands. There are +things that go deeper down than creeds, Alice; +and the cross with the Saviour on it is one of +them. I would like to feel it myself, even when +I was past seeing it. I would like to take the +step between here and there with it in my +hands."</p> + +<p>In the cool of the afternoon, Julius and the +girls went to Up-Hill. He had a solemn curiousness +about death; and both personally and +theoretically the transition filled him with +vague, momentous ideas, relating to all sides of +his conscious being. In every land where he +had sojourned, the superstitions and ceremonials +that attended it were subjects of interest +to him. So he was much touched when he +entered the deep, cool porch, and saw the little +table at the threshold, covered with a white +linen cloth, and holding a plate of evergreens +and a handful of salt. And when Sophia and +Charlotte each scattered a little salt upon the +ground, and broke off a small spray of boxwood, +he knew instinctively that they were silently +expressing their faith in the preservation of the +body, and in the life everlasting; and he imitated +them in the simple rite.</p><p><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91"></a></p> + +<p>Ducie met them with a grave and tender +pleasure. "Come, and see the empty soul-case," +she said softly; "there is nothing to fear +you." And she led them into the chamber where +it lay. The great bed was white as a drift of +snow. On the dark oak walls, there were +branches of laurel and snowberry. The floor +was fragrant under the feet, with bits of rosemary, +and bruised ears of lavender, and leaves +of thyme. The casements were wide open to +admit the fresh mountain breeze; and at one of +them Steve rested in the carved chair that had +been his grandfather's, and was now his own.</p> + +<p>The young men did not know each other; but +this was neither the time nor the place for +social civilities, and they only slightly bowed as +their eyes met. Indeed, it seemed wrong to +trouble the peaceful silence with mere words +of courtesy; but Charlotte gave her hand to +Stephen, and with it that candid, loving gaze, +which has, from the eyes of the beloved, the +miraculous power of turning the water of life +into wine. And Charlotte perceived this, and +she went home happy in the happiness she had +given.</p> + +<p>Four days later, Barf Latrigg was buried.<a name="Page_92" id="Page_92"></a> +In the glory of the August afternoon, the ladies +of Seat-Sandal stood with Julius in the shadow +of the park gates, and watched the long procession +winding slowly down the fells. At first +it was accompanied by fitful, varying gusts of +solemn melody; but as it drew nearer, the +affecting tones of the funeral hymn became more +and more distinct and sustained. There were +at least three hundred voices thrilling the still, +warm air with its pathetic music; and, as they +approached the church gates, it blended itself +with the heavy tread of those who carried and +of those who followed the dead, like a wonderful, +triumphant march.</p> + +<p>After the funeral was over, the squire went +back to Up-Hill to eat the arvel-meal,<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> and to +hear the will of his old friend read. It was +nearly dark when he returned, and he was very +glad to find his wife alone. "I have had a few +hard hours, Alice," he said wearily; "and I am +more bothered about Barfs will than I can tell +why."</p> + +<p>"I suppose Steve got all."</p> + +<p>"Pretty nearly. Barf's married daughters +had their portions long ago, but he left each of +<a name="Page_93" id="Page_93"></a>them three hundred pounds as a good-will token. +Ducie got a thousand pounds and her right +in Up-Hill as long as she lived. All else was +for Steve except—and this bothers me—a box +of papers left in Ducie's charge. They are to +be given to me at her discretion; and, if not +given during her lifetime or my lifetime, the +charge remains then between those that come +after us. I don't like it, and I can't think what +it means. Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>"He left you nothing?"</p> + +<p>"He left me his staff. He knew better than +to leave me money. But I am bothered about +that box of papers. What can they refer to? +Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>"I can make a guess, William. When your +brother Tom left home, and went to India, he +took money enough with him; but I'm afraid +he got it queerly. At any rate, your father had +some big sums to raise. You were at college +at the time; and though there was some underhand +talk, maybe you never heard it, for no +one round Sandal-Side would pass on a word +likely to trouble the old squire, or offend Mistress +Charlotte. Now, perhaps it was at that +time Barf Latrigg 'did well to Sandal.'"</p><p><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94"></a></p> + +<p>"I think you may be right, Alice. I remember +that father was a bit mean with me the +last year I was at Oxford. He would have +reasons he did not tell me of. One should +never judge a father. He is often forced to +cut the loaf unevenly for the good of every +one."</p> + +<p>But this new idea troubled Sandal. He was +a man of super-sensitive honor with regard to +money matters. If there were really any obligation +of that kind between the two houses, he +hardly felt grateful to Latrigg for being silent +about it. And still more the transfer of these +papers vexed him. Ducie might know what +he might never know. Steve might have it in +his power to trouble Harry when he was at +rest with his fore-elders. The subject haunted +and worried him; and as worries are never +complete worries till they have an individuality, +Steve very soon became the personal embodiment +of mortifying uncertainty, and wounded +<i>amour propre</i>. For if Mrs. Sandal's suspicion +were true, or even if it were not true, she +was not likely to be the only one in Sandal-Side +who would construe Latrigg's singular +disposition of his papers in the same way.<a name="Page_95" id="Page_95"></a> +Certainly Squire William did not feel as if the +dead man had 'done well to Sandal.'</p> + +<p>Stephen was equally annoyed. His grandfather +had belonged to a dead century, and +retained until the last his almost feudal idea +of the bond between his family and the Sandals. +But the present squire had stepped outside +the shadows of the past, and Stephen +was fully abreast of his own times. He understood +very well, that, whatever these papers +related to, they would be a constant thorn in +Sandal's side; and he saw them lying between +Charlotte and himself, a barrier unknown, and +insurmountable because unknown.</p> + +<p>From Ducie he could obtain neither information +nor assistance. "Mother," he +asked, "do you know what those papers are +about?"</p> + +<p>"Ratherly."</p> + +<p>"When can you tell me?"</p> + +<p>"There must be a deal of sorrow before I +can tell you."</p> + +<p>"Do you want to tell me?"</p> + +<p>"If I should dare to want it one minute, +I should ask God's pardon the next. When I +unlock that box, Steve, there is like to be +<a name="Page_96" id="Page_96"></a>trouble in Sandal. I think your grandfather +would rather the key rusted away."</p> + +<p>"Does the squire know any thing about +them?"</p> + +<p>"Not he."</p> + +<p>"If he asks, will you tell him?"</p> + +<p>"Not yet. I—hope never."</p> + +<p>"I wish they were in the fire."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps some day you may put them there. +You will have the right when I am gone."</p> + +<p>Then Steve silently kissed her, and went +into the garden; and Ducie watched him +through the window, and whispered to herself, +"It is a bit hard, but it might be harder; and +right always gets the over-hand at the long +end."</p> + +<p>The first interview between the squire and +Stephen after Barf Latrigg's funeral was not +a pleasanter one than this misunderstanding +promised. Sandal was walking on Sandal Scree-top +one morning, and met Steve. "Good-morning, +Mr. Latrigg," he said; "you are a +statesman now, and we must give you your due +respect." He did not say it unkindly; but +Steve somehow felt the difference between Mr. +Latrigg and Squire Sandal as he had never +<a name="Page_97" id="Page_97"></a>felt it when the greeting had only been, "Good-morning, +Steve. How do all at home do?"</p> + +<p>Still, he was anxious to keep Sandal's good-will, +and he hastened to ask his opinion upon +several matters relating to the estate which +had just come into his hands. Ordinarily this +concession would have been a piece of subtle +flattery quite irresistible to the elder man, but +just at that time it was the most imprudent +thing Steve could have done.</p> + +<p>"I had an offer this morning from Squire +Methley. He wants to rent the Skelwith +'walk' from me. What do you think of him, +sir?"</p> + +<p>"As how?"</p> + +<p>"As a tenant. I suppose he has money. +There are about a thousand sheep on it."</p> + +<p>"He lives on the other side of the range, +and I know him not; but our sheep have mingled +on the mountain for thirty years. I count +not after him, and he counts not after me;" and +Sandal spoke coldly, like a man defending his +own order. "Are you going to rent your +'walks' so soon? Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>"As soon as I can advantageously."</p> + +<p>"I bethink me. At the last shearing you +<a name="Page_98" id="Page_98"></a>were all for spinning and weaving. The Coppice +Woods were to make your bobbins; Silver +Force was to feed your engines; the little +herd lads and lassies to mind your spinning-frames. +Well, well, Mr. Latrigg, such doings +are not for me to join in! I shall be sorry to +see these lovely valleys turned into weaving-shops; +but you belong to a new generation, +and the young know every thing,—or they +think they do."</p> + +<p>"And you will soon join the new generation, +squire. You were always tolerant and wide +awake. I never knew your prejudices beyond +reasoning with."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Latrigg, leave my prejudices, as you +call them, alone. To-day I am not in the +humor either to defend them or repent of +them."</p> + +<p>They talked for some time longer,—talked +until the squire felt bored with Steve's plans. +The young man kept hoping every moment to +say something that would retrieve his previous +blunders; but who can please those who are +determined not to be pleased? And yet Sandal +was annoyed at his own injustice, and then still +more annoyed at Steve for causing him to be +<a name="Page_99" id="Page_99"></a>unjust. Besides which, the young man's eagerness +for change, his enthusiasms and ambitions, +offended him in a particular way that morning; +for he had had an unpleasant letter from his +son Harry, who was not eager and enthusiastic +and ambitious, but lazy, extravagant, and quite +commonplace. Also Charlotte had not cared +to come out with him, and the immeasurable +self-complacency of his nephew Julius had really +quite spoiled his breakfast; and then, below all, +there was that disagreeable feeling about the +Latriggs.</p> + +<p>So Stephen did not conciliate Sandal, and +he was himself very much grieved at the squire's +evident refusal of his friendly advances. There +is no humiliation so bitter as that of a rejected +offering. Was it not the failure of Cain's +attempted propitiation that kindled the flame +of hate and murder in his heart? Steve Latrigg +went back to Up-Hill, nursing a feeling of +indignation against the man who had so suddenly +conceived a dislike to him, and who had +dashed, with regrets and doubtful speeches and +faint praise, all the plans which at sunrise had +seemed so full of hope, and so worthy of +success.</p><p><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100"></a></p> + +<p>The squire was equally annoyed. He could +not avoid speaking of the interview, for it irritated +him, and was uppermost in his thoughts. +He detailed it with a faint air of pitying contempt. +"The lad is upset with the money and +land he has come into, and the whole place is +too small for his greatness." That was what he +said, and he knew he was unjust; but the moral +atmosphere between Steve and himself had +become permeated with distrust and dislike. +Unhappy miasmas floated hither and thither in +it, and poisoned him. When with Stephen he +hardly recognized himself: he did not belong +to himself. Sarcasm, contradiction, opposing +ideas, took possession of and ruled him by the +forces of antipathy, just as others ruled him by +the forces of love and attraction.</p> + +<p>The days that had been full of peaceful happiness +were troubled in all their hours; and +yet the sources of trouble were so vague, so +blended with what he had called unto himself, +that he could not give vent to his unrest and +disappointment. His life had had a jar; nothing +ran smoothly; and he was almost glad when +Julius announced the near termination of his +visit. He had begun to feel as if Julius were +<a name="Page_101" id="Page_101"></a>inimical to him; not consciously so, but in that +occult way which makes certain foods and +drinks, certain winds and weathers, inimical to +certain personalities. His presence seemed to +have blighted his happiness, as the north wind +blighted his myrtles. "If I could only have +let 'well' alone. If I had never written that +letter." Many a time a day he said such +words to his own heart.</p> + +<p>In the mean time, Julius was quite unconscious +of his position. He was thoroughly enjoying +himself. If others were losing, he was +not. He was in love with the fine old hall. +The simple, sylvan character of its daily life +charmed his poetic instincts. The sweet, hot +days on the fells, with a rod in his hand, and +Charlotte and the squire for company, were like +an idyl. The rainy days in the large, low +drawing-room, singing with Sophia, or dreaming +and speculating with her on all sorts of mysteries, +were, in their way, equally charmful. +He liked to walk slowly up and down, and to +talk to her softly of things obscure, cryptic, cabalistic. +The plashing rain, the moaning wind, +made just the monotonous accompaniment that +seemed fitting; and the lovely girl, listening, +<a name="Page_102" id="Page_102"></a>with needle half-drawn, and sensitive, sensuous +face lifted to his own, made a situation in which +he knew he did himself full justice.</p> + +<p>At such times he thought Sophia was surely +his natural mate,—'the soul that halved his +own,' the one of 'nearer kindred than life +hinted of.' At other times he was equally conscious +that he loved Charlotte Sandal with an +intensity to which his love for Sophia was as +water is to wine. But Charlotte's indifference +mortified him, and their natures were almost +antagonistic to each other. Under such circumstances +a great love is often a dangerous +one. Very little will turn it into hatred. And +Julius had been made to feel more than once +the utter superfluity of his existence, as far as +Charlotte Sandal was concerned.</p> + +<p>Still, he determined not to resign the hope +of winning her until he was sure that her +indifference was not an affectation. He had +read of women who used it as a lure. If it +were Charlotte's special weapon he was quite +willing to be brought to submission by it. +After all, there was piquancy in the situation; +for to most men, love sought and hardly won is +far sweeter than love freely given.</p><p><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103"></a></p> + +<p>Yet of all the women whom he had known, +Charlotte Sandal was the least approachable. +She was fertile in preventing an opportunity; +and if the opportunity came, she was equally +fertile in spoiling it. But Julius had patience; +and patience is the art and secret of hoping. +A woman cannot always be on guard, and he +believed in not losing heart, and in waiting. +Sooner or later, the happy moment when success +would be possible was certain to arrive.</p> + +<p>One day in the early part of September, the +squire asked his wife for all the house-servants +she could spare. "A few more hands will +bring home the harvest to-night," he said; "and +it would be a great thing to get it in without a +drop of rain."</p> + +<p>So the men and maids went off to the wheat-fields, +as if they were going to a frolic; and +there was a happy sense of freedom, with the +picnicky dinner, and the general air of things +being left to themselves about the house. +After an unusually merry lunch, Julius proposed +a walk to the harvest-field, and Sophia +and Charlotte eagerly agreed to it.</p> + +<p>It was a joy to be out of doors under such a +sky. The intense, repressing greens of summer +<a name="Page_104" id="Page_104"></a>were now subdued and shaded. The air was +subtle and fragrant. Amber rays shone through +the boughs. The hills were clothed in purple. +An exquisite, impalpable haze idealized all +nature. Right and left the reapers swept their +sharp sickles through the ripe wheat. The +women went after them, binding the sheaves, +and singing among the yellow swaths shrill, +wild songs, full of simple modulations.</p> + +<p>The squire's field was busy as a fair; and the +idle young people sat under the oaks, or walked +slowly in the shadow of the hedges, pulling +poppies and wild flowers, and realizing all the +poetry of a pastoral life, without any of its hard +labor or its vulgar cares. Mrs. Sandal had +given them a basket with berries and cake and +cream in it. They were all young enough to +get pleasantly hungry in the open air, all +young enough to look upon berries and cake +and cream as a distinct addition to happiness. +They set out a little feast under the trees, and +called the squire to come and taste their dainties.</p> + +<p>He was standing, without his coat and vest, +on the top of a loaded wain, the very embodiment +of a jovial, handsome, country gentleman.<a name="Page_105" id="Page_105"></a> +The reins were in his hand; he was +going to drive home the wealthy wagon; but +he stopped and stooped, and Charlotte, standing +on tip-toes, handed him a glass of cream. +"God love thy bonny face," he said, with a +beaming smile, as he handed her back the +empty glass. Then off went the great horses +with their towering load, treading carefully between +the hedges of the narrow lane, and leaving +upon the hawthorns many a stray ear for +the birds gleaning.</p> + +<p>When the squire returned he called to Julius +and his daughters, "What idle-backs you are! +Come, and bind a sheaf with me." And they +rose with a merry laugh, and followed him down +the field, working a little, and resting a little; +and towards the close of the afternoon, listening +to the singing of an old man who had +brought his fiddle to the field in order to be +ready to play at the squire's "harvest-home." +He was a thin, crooked, old man, very spare and +ruddy. "Eighty-three years old, young sir," he +said to Julius; and then, in a trembling, cracked +voice, he quavered out,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Says t' auld man to t' auld oak-tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Young and lusty was I when I kenned thee:<br /></span><p><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106"></a></p> +<span class="i0">I was young and lusty, I was fair and clear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Young and lusty was I, many a long year.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But sair failed is I, sair failed now;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sair failed is I, since I kenned thou.<br /></span> +<span class="i11">Sair failed, honey,<br /></span> +<span class="i11">Sair failed now;<br /></span> +<span class="i11">Sair failed, honey,<br /></span> +<span class="i11">Since I kenned thou."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>It was the appeal of tottering age to happy, +handsome youth, and Julius could not resist it. +With a royal grace he laid a guinea in the old +man's open palm, and felt fully rewarded by +his look of wonder and delight.</p> + +<p>"God give you love and luck, young sir. I +am eighty-three now, and sair failed; but I was +once twenty-three, and young and lusty as you +be. But life is at the fag end with me now. +God save us all!" Then, with a meaning look +at the two pretty girls watching him, he went +slowly off, droning out to a monotonous accompaniment, +an old love ballad:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Picking of lilies the other day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Picking of lilies both fresh and gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Picking of lilies, red, white, and blue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Little I thought what love could do."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"'<i>Little I thought what love could do</i>,'" Julius +<a name="Page_107" id="Page_107"></a>repeated; and he sang the doleful refrain over +and over, as they strolled back to the oak under +which they had had their little feast. Then +Sophia, who had a natural love of neatness and +order, began to collect the plates and napkins, +and arrange them in the basket; and this being +done, she looked around for the housemaid in +order to put it in her charge. The girl was at +the other end of the field, and she went to her.</p> + +<p>Charlotte had scarcely perceived what was +going on. The old man's singing had made +her a little sad. She, too, was thinking of +"what love could do." She was standing under +the tree, leaning against the great mossy trunk. +Her brown hair had fallen loose, her cheeks +were flushed, her lips crimson, her whole form +a glowing picture of youth in its perfect beauty +and freshness. Sophia was out of hearing. +Julius stepped close to her. His soul was in +his face; he spoke like a man who was no longer +master of himself.</p> + +<p>"Charlotte, I love you. I love you with all +my heart."</p> + +<p>She looked at him steadily. Her eyes flashed. +She threw downward her hands with a deprecating +motion.</p><p><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108"></a></p> + +<p>"You have no right to say such words to me, +Julius. I have done all a woman could do to +prevent, them. I have never given you any +encouragement. A gentleman does not speak +without it."</p> + +<p>"I could not help speaking. I love you, +Charlotte. Is there any wrong in loving you? +If I had any hope of winning you."</p> + +<p>"No, no; there is no hope. I do not love +you. I never shall love you."</p> + +<p>"Unless you have some other lover, Charlotte, +I shall dare to hope"—</p> + +<p>"I have a lover."</p> + +<p>"Oh!"</p> + +<p>"And I am frank with you because it is best. +I trust you will respect my candor."</p> + +<p>He only bowed. Indeed, he found speech +impossible. Never before had Charlotte looked +so lovely and so desirable to him. He felt her +positive rejection very keenly.</p> + +<p>"Sophia is coming. Please to forget that +this conversation has ever been."</p> + +<p>"You are very cruel."</p> + +<p>"No. I am truly kind. Sophia, I am tired; +let us go home."</p> + +<p>So they turned out of the field, and into the +<a name="Page_109" id="Page_109"></a>lane. But something was gone, and something +had come. Sophia felt the change, and she +looked curiously at Julius and Charlotte. Charlotte +was calmly mingling the poppies and +wheat in her hands. Her face revealed nothing. +Julius was a little melancholy. "The fairies +have left us," he said. "All of a sudden, the +revel is over." Then as they walked slowly +homeward, he took Sophia's hand, and swayed it +gently to and fro to the old fiddler's refrain,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Little I thought what love could do.'"<br /></span> +</div></div><p><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110"></a></p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V.</h2> + +<h3>CHARLOTTE.</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"><p> +"Oh, how this spring of love resembleth<br /> +The uncertain glory of an April day!"<br /> +</p> +<p>"Hammering and clinking, chattering stony names<br /> +Of shale and hornblende, rag and trap and tuff,<br /> +Amygdaloid and trachyte."</p><br /> +</div> + + +<p>When Charlotte again went to Up-Hill +she found herself walking through a +sober realm of leafless trees. The glory of +autumn was gone. The hills, with their circular +sheep-pens, were now brown and bare; and the +plaided shepherds, descending far apart, gave +only an air of loneliness to the landscape. She +could see the white line of the stony road with +a sad distinctness. It was no longer bordered +with creeping vines and patches of murmuring +bee-bent heather. And the stream-bed also had +lost nearly all its sentinel rushes, and the tall +brakens from its shaggy slopes were gone. +But Silver Beck still ran musically over tracts +of tinkling stones; and, through the chilly air, +<a name="Page_111" id="Page_111"></a>the lustered black cock was crowing for the +gray hen in the hollow.</p> + +<p>Very soon the atmosphere became full of +misty rain; and ere she reached the house, +there was a cold wind, and the nearest cloud +was sprinkling the bubbling beck. It was +pleasant to see Ducie at the open door ready +to welcome her; pleasant to get into the snug +houseplace, and watch the great fire leaping +up the chimney, and throwing lustres on the +carved oak presses and long settles, and on +the bright brass and pewter vessels, and the +rows of showy chinaware. Very pleasant to +draw her chair to the little round table on the +hearthstone, and to inhale the fragrance of the +infusing tea, and the rich aroma of potted char +and spiced bread and freshly-baked cheese-cakes. +And still more pleasant to be taken +possession of, to have her damp shoes and +cloak removed, her chill fingers warmed in a +kindly, motherly clasp, and to be made to feel +through all her senses that she was indeed +"welcome as sun-shining."</p> + +<p>With a little shiver of disappointment she +noticed that there were only two tea-cups on +the table; and the house, when she came to +<a name="Page_112" id="Page_112"></a>analyze its atmosphere, had in it the perceptible +loneliness of the absent master. "Is not +Stephen at home?" she asked, as Ducie settled +herself comfortably for their meal; "I +thought Stephen was at home."</p> + +<p>"No, he isn't. He went to Kendal three +days ago about his fleeces. Whitney's carpet-works +have made him a very good offer. Did +not the squire speak of it?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Well he knew all about it. He met Steve, +and Steve told him. The squire has been a +little queer with us lately, Charlotte. Do you +know what the trouble is? I thought I would +have you up to tea, and ask you; so when Sandal +was up here this morning, I said, 'Let +Charlotte come, and have a cup of tea with me, +squire, I'd be glad.' And he said, 'When?' +And I said, 'This afternoon. I am fair lonely +without Steve.' And he said, 'I'm agreeable. +She'll be glad enough to come.' And I said, +'Thank'ee, squire, I'll be glad enough to see +her.' But what <i>is</i> the matter, Charlotte? The +squire has been in his airs with Steve ever so +long."</p> + +<p>Then Charlotte's face grew like a flame; and +<a name="Page_113" id="Page_113"></a>she answered, in a tone of tender sadness, +"Father thinks Steve loves me; and he says +there is no love-line between our houses, and +that, if there were, it is crossed with sorrow, +and that neither the living nor the dead will +have marriage between Steve and me."</p> + +<p>"I thought that was the trouble. I did so. +As for the living, he speaks for himself; as for +the dead, it is your grandmother Sandal he +thinks of. She was a hard, proud woman, +Charlotte. Her two daughters rejoiced at +their wedding-days, and two out of her three +sons she drove away from their home. Your +father was on the point of going, when his +brother Launcie's death made him the heir. +Then she gave him a bit more respect, and +for pretty Alice Morecombe's sake he stayed +by the old squire. Ten years your mother +waited for William Sandal, Charlotte."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know."</p> + +<p>"Do you love Steve, Charlotte? I am +Steve's mother, dear, and you may speak to me +as if you were talking to your own heart. I +would never tell Steve either this way or that +way for any thing. Steve would not thank me +if I did. He is one of them that wants to +<a name="Page_114" id="Page_114"></a>reach his happiness in his own way, and by his +own hand. And I have good reasons for asking +you such a question, or I would not ask it; +you may be sure I have, that you may."</p> + +<p>Charlotte had put down her cup, and she sat +with her hands clasped upon her lap, looking +down into it. Ducie's question took her by +surprise, and she was rather offended by it. +For Charlotte Sandal had been taught all the +reticences of good society, and for a moment +she resented a catechism so direct and personal; +but only for a moment. Before Ducie had +done speaking, she had remembered that nothing +but true kindness could have prompted the +inquiry. Ducie was not a curious, tattling, meddlesome +woman; Charlotte had never known +her to interfere in any one's affairs. She had +few visitors, and she made no calls. Year in +and year out, Ducie could always be found at +home with herself.</p> + +<p>"You need not tell me, dear, if you do not +know; or if you do not want to tell me."</p> + +<p>"I do know, Ducie; and I do not mind telling +you in the least. I love Stephen very +dearly. I have loved him ever since—I don't +know when."</p><p><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115"></a></p> + +<p>"And you have always had as good and as +true as you have given. Steve is fondly heart-grown +to you, Charlotte. But we will say no +more; and what we have said is dropped into my +heart like a stone dropped into deep water."</p> + +<p>Then they spoke of the rector, how he was +failing a little; and of one of the maids at Seat-Sandal +who was to marry the head shepherd at +Up-Hill; and at last, when there had been +enough of indifferent talk to effectually put +Steve out of mind, Ducie asked suddenly, +"How is Harry, and is he doing well?"</p> + +<p>This was a subject Charlotte was glad to +discuss with Ducie. Harry was a great favorite +with her, and had been accustomed to run +to Up-Hill whenever he was in any boyish +scrape. And Harry was <i>not</i> doing well. +"Father is vexed and troubled about him, +Ducie," she answered. "Whenever a letter +comes from Harry, it puts every thing wrong +in the house. Mother goes away and cries; +and Sophia sulks because, she says, 'it is a +shame any single one of the family should be +allowed to make all the rest uncomfortable.'"</p> + +<p>"Harry should never have gone into the +army. He hasn't any resisting power, hasn't<a name="Page_116" id="Page_116"></a> +Harry. And there is nothing but temptation +in the army. Dear me, Charlotte! We may +well pray not to be led into the way of temptation; +for if we once get into it, we are no +better off than a fly in a spider's web."</p> + +<p>She was filling the two empty cups as she +spoke, but she suddenly set down the teapot, +and listened a moment. "I hear Steve's footsteps. +Sit still, Charlotte. He is opening +the door. I knew it was he."</p> + +<p>"Mother! mother!"</p> + +<p>"Here I am, Steve."</p> + +<p>He came in rosy and wet with his climb up +the fellside; and, as he kissed his mother, he +put out his hand to Charlotte. Then there was +the pleasantest stir of care and welcome imaginable; +and Steve soon found himself sitting +opposite the girl he loved so dearly, taking his +cup from her hands, looking into her bright, +kind eyes, exchanging with her those charming +little courtesies which can be made the +vehicles of so much that is not spoken, and +that is understood without speech.</p> + +<p>But the afternoons were now very short, and +the happy meal had to be hastened. The +clouds, too, had fallen low; and the rain, as<a name="Page_117" id="Page_117"></a> +Ducie said, "was plashing and pattering +badly." She folded her own blanket-shawl +around Charlotte; and as there was no wind, +and the road was mostly wide enough for two, +Steve could carry an umbrella, and get her +safely home before the darkening.</p> + +<p>How merrily they went out together into the +storm! Steve thought he could hardly have +chosen any circumstances that would have +pleased him better. It was quite necessary +that Charlotte should keep close to his side; it +was quite natural that she should lift her face +to his in talking; it was equally natural that +Steve should bend towards Charlotte, and that, +in a moment, without any conscious intention +of doing so, he should kiss her.</p> + +<p>She trembled and stood still, but she was not +angry. "That was very wrong, Steve. I told +you at the harvest-home what father said, and +what I had promised father. I'll break no +squares with father, and you must not make +me do so."</p> + +<p>"I could not help it, Charlotte, you looked +so bewitching."</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear! the old, old excuse, 'The woman +tempted me,' etc."</p><p><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118"></a></p> + +<p>"Forgive me, dear Charlotte. I was going +to tell you that I had been very fortunate in +Kendal, and next week I am going to Bradford +to learn all about spinning and weaving +and machinery. But what is success without +you? If I make every dream come to pass, +and have not Charlotte, my heart will keep +telling me, night and day, '<i>All for nothing, all +for nothing</i>.'"</p> + +<p>"Do not be so impatient. You are making +trouble, and forespeaking disappointment. Before +you have learned all about manufacturing, +and built your mill, before you are really ready +to begin your life's work, many a change may +have taken place in Sandal-Side. When Julius +comes at Christmas I think he will ask Sophia +to marry him, and I think Sophia will accept +his offer. That marriage would open the way +for our marriage."</p> + +<p>"Only partly I fear. I can see that squire +Sandal has taken a dislike, and your mother +was a little high with me when I saw her last."</p> + +<p>"Partly your own fault, sir. Why did you +give up the ways of your fathers? The idea +of mills and trading in these dales is such a +new one."</p><p><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119"></a></p> + +<p>"But a man must move with his own age, +Charlotte. There is no prospect of another +Stuart rebellion. I cannot do the queen's service, +and get rewarded as old Christopher +Sandal did. And I want to go to Parliament, +and can't go without money. And I can't +make money quick enough by keeping sheep +and planting wheat. But manufacturing means +money, land, influence, power."</p> + +<p>"Father does not see these things as you do, +Steve. He sees the peaceful dales invaded +by white-faced factory-hands, loud-voiced, quarrelling, +disrespectful. All the old landmarks +and traditions will disappear; also simple ways +of living, calm religion, true friendships. Every +good old sentiment will be gauged by money, +will finally vanish before money, and what the +busy world calls 'improvements.' It makes +him fretful, jealous, and unhappy."</p> + +<p>"That is just the trouble, Charlotte. When +a man has not the spirit of his age, he has all +its unhappiness. But my greatest fear is, that +you will grow weary of waiting for <i>our hour</i>."</p> + +<p>"I have told you that I shall not. There +is an old proverb which says, 'Trust not the +man who promises with an oath.' Is not my +<a name="Page_120" id="Page_120"></a>simple word, then, the best and the surest +hope?"</p> + +<p>Then she nestled close to his side, and began +to talk of his plans and his journey, and to +anticipate the time when he would break +ground upon Silver Beck, and build the many-windowed +factory that had been his dream +ever since he had began to plan his own career. +The wind rose, the rain fell in a down-pour +before they reached the park-gates; but there +was a certain joy in facing the wet breeze, and +although they did not loiter, yet neither did +they hurry. In both their hearts there was +a little fear of the squire, but neither spoke of +it. Charlotte would not suppose or suggest +any necessity for avoiding him, and Steve was +equally sensitive on the subject.</p> + +<p>When they arrived at Seat-Sandal the main +entrance was closed, and Stephen stood with +her on the threshold until a man-servant +opened slowly its ponderous panels. There +was a bright fire burning in the hall, and lights +were in the sconces on the walls. Charlotte +asked Steve to come in and rest a while. She +tried to avoid showing either fear or hurry, and +Steve was conscious of the same effort on his +<a name="Page_121" id="Page_121"></a>own part; but yet he knew that they both +thought it well none of the family were aware +of her return, or of his presence. She watched +him descend the dripping steps into the darkness, +and then went towards the fire. An +unusual silence was in the house. She stood +upon the hearthstone while the servant rebolted +the door, and then asked,—</p> + +<p>"Is dinner served, Noel?"</p> + +<p>"It be over, Miss Charlotte."</p> + +<p>So she went to her own room. It was chilly +and dreary. The fire had been allowed to die +down, and had only just been replenished. It +was smoking also, and the candles on her toilet-table +burned dimly in the damp atmosphere. +She hurriedly changed her gown, and was +going down-stairs, when a movement in Sophia's +room arrested her attention. It was very +unusual for Sophia to be up-stairs at that +hour, and the fact struck her significantly. +She knocked at the door, and was told rather +irritably to "Come in."</p> + +<p>"Dear me, Sophia! what is the matter? It +feels as if there were something wrong in the +house."</p> + +<p>"I suppose there is something wrong.<a name="Page_122" id="Page_122"></a> +Father got a letter from Harry by the late +post, and he left his dinner untouched; and +mother is in her room crying, of course. I do +think it is a shame that Harry is allowed to +turn the house upside down whenever he feels +like it."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps he is in trouble."</p> + +<p>"He is always in trouble, for he is always +busy making trouble. His very amusements +mean trouble for all who have the misfortune +to have any thing to do with him. Julius told +me that no man in the 'Cameronians' had a +worse name than Harry Sandal."</p> + +<p>"Julius! The idea of Julius talking badly +about our Harry, and to you! I wonder you +listened to him. It was a shabby thing to do; +it was that."</p> + +<p>"Julius only repeated what he had heard, +and he was very sorry to do so. He felt it to +be conscientiously his duty."</p> + +<p>"Bah! God save me from such a conscience! +If Julius had heard any thing good of +Harry, he would have had no conscientious +scruples about silence; not he! I dare say +Julius would be glad if poor Harry was out of +his way."</p><p><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123"></a></p> + +<p>"Charlotte Sandal, you shall not say such +very unladylike, such unchristianlike, things +in my room. It is quite easy to see <i>whose</i> +company you have been in."</p> + +<p>"I have been with Ducie. Can you find me +a sweeter or better soul?"</p> + +<p>"Or a handsomer young man than her son?"</p> + +<p>"I mean that also, certainly. Handsome, +energetic, enterprising, kind, religious."</p> + +<p>"Spare me the balance of your adjectives. +We all know that Steve is square on every side, +and straight in every corner. Don't be so +earnest; you fatigue me to-night. I am on the +verge of a nervous headache, and I really think +you had better leave me." She turned her +chair towards the fire as she spoke, and hardly +palliated this act of dismissal by the faint "excuse +me," which accompanied it. And Charlotte +made no remark, though she left her +sister's room, mentally promising herself to +keep away from it in the future.</p> + +<p>She went next to the parlor. The squire's +chair was empty, and on the little stand at its +side, the "Gentleman's Magazine" lay uncut. +His slippers, usually assumed after dinner, +were still warming on the white sheepskin rug +<a name="Page_124" id="Page_124"></a>before the fire. But the large, handsome face, +that always made a sunshiny feeling round the +hearth, was absent; and the room had a loneliness +that made her heart fear. She waited a +few minutes, looking with expectation towards +a piece of knitting which was Mrs. Sandal's +evening work. But the ivory needles and the +colored wools remained uncalled for, and she +grew rapidly impatient, and went to her +mother's room. Mrs. Sandal was lying upon +her couch, exhausted with weeping; and the +squire sat holding his head in his hands, the +very picture of despondency and sorrow.</p> + +<p>"Can I come and speak to you, mother?"</p> + +<p>The squire answered, "To be sure you can, +Charlotte. We are glad to see you. We are +in trouble, my dear."</p> + +<p>"Is it Harry, father?"</p> + +<p>"Trouble mostly comes that way. Yes, it +is Harry. He is in a great strait, and wants +five hundred pounds, Charlotte; five hundred +pounds, dear, and he wants it at once. Only +six weeks ago he wrote in the same way for +a hundred and fifty pounds. He is robbing +me, robbing his mother, robbing Sophia and +you."</p><p><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125"></a></p> + +<p>"William, I wouldn't give way to temper +that road; calling your own son and my son +a thief. It's not fair," said Mrs. Sandal, with +considerable asperity.</p> + +<p>"I must call things by their right names, +Alice. I call a cat, a cat; and I call our Harry +a thief; for I don't know that forcing money +from a father is any better than forcing it from +a stranger. It is only using a father's love as +a pick-lock instead of an iron tool. That's all +the difference, Alice; and I don't think the +difference is one that helps Harry's case much. +Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>"Dear me! it is always money," sighed +Charlotte.</p> + +<p>"Your father knows very well that Harry +must have the money, Charlotte. I think it +is cruel of him to make every one ill before he +gives what is sure to be given in the end. +Sophia has a headache, I dare say, and I am +sure I have."</p> + +<p>"But I cannot give him this money, Alice. +I have not realized on my wool and wheat yet. +I cannot coin money. I will not beg or borrow +it. I will not mortgage an acre for it."</p> + +<p>"And you will let your only son the heir of<a name="Page_126" id="Page_126"></a> +Sandal-Side, go to jail and disgrace for five +hundred pounds. I never heard tell of such +cruelty. Never, never, never!"</p> + +<p>"You do not know what you are saying, +Alice. Tell me how I am to find five hundred +pounds. Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>"There must be ways. How can a woman +tell?"</p> + +<p>"Father, have I not got some money of my +own?"</p> + +<p>"You have the accrued interest on the +thousand pounds your grandmother left you. +Sophia has the same."</p> + +<p>"Is the interest sufficient?"</p> + +<p>"You have drawn from it at intervals. I +think there is about three hundred pounds to +your credit."</p> + +<p>"Sophia will have nearly as much. Call her, +father. Surely between us we can arrange five +hundred pounds. I shall be real glad to help +Harry. Young men have so many temptations +now, father. Harry is a good sort in the main. +Just have a little patience with him. Eh, +father?"</p> + +<p>And the squire was glad of the pleading +voice. Glad for some one to make the excuses +<a name="Page_127" id="Page_127"></a>he did not think it right to make. Glad to +have the little breath of hope that Charlotte's +faith in her brother gave him. He stood up, +and took her face between his hands and kissed +it. Then he sent a servant for Sophia; and +after a short delay the young lady appeared, +looking pale and exceedingly injured.</p> + +<p>"Did you send for me, father?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I did. Come in and sit down. There +is something to be done for Harry, and we +want your help, Sophia. Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>She pushed a chair gently to the table, and +sat down languidly. She was really sick, but +her air and attitude was that of a person suffering +an extremity of physical anguish. The +squire looked at her and then at Charlotte with +dismay and self-reproach.</p> + +<p>"Harry wants five hundred pounds, Sophia."</p> + +<p>"I am astonished he does not want five +thousand pounds. Father, I would not send +him a sovereign of it. Julius told me about +his carryings-on."</p> + +<p>She could hardly have said any words so +favorable to Harry's cause. The squire was +on the defensive for his own side in a moment.</p><p><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128"></a></p> + +<p>"What has Julius to do with it?" he cried. +"Sandal-Side is not his property, and please +God it never will be. Harry is one kind of a +sinner, Julius is another kind of a sinner. God +Almighty only knows which kind of sinner is +the meaner and worse. The long and the short +of it, is this: Harry must have five hundred +pounds. Charlotte is willing to give the balance +of her interest account, about three hundred +pounds, towards it. Will you make up what is +lacking, out of your interest money? Eh? +What?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know why I should be asked to do +this, I am sure."</p> + +<p>"Only because I have no ready money at +present. And because, however bad Harry is, +he is your brother. And because he is heir of +Sandal, and the honor of the name is worth saving. +And because your mother will break her +heart if shame comes to Harry. And there are +some other reasons too; but if mother, +brother, and honor don't seem worth while to +you, why, then, Sophia, there is no use wasting +words. Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>"Let father have what is needed, Sophia. I +will pay you back."</p><p><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129"></a></p> + +<p>"Very well, Charlotte; but I think it is +most unjust, most iniquitous, as Julius says"—</p> + +<p>"Now, then, don't quote Julius to me. What +right had he to be discussing my family matters, +or Sandal matters either, I wonder? +Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>"He is in the family."</p> + +<p>"Is he? Very well, then, I am still the head +of the family. If he has any advice to offer, +he can come to me with it. Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>"Father, I am as sick as can be to-night."</p> + +<p>"Go thy ways then. Mother and I are both +poorly too. Good-night, girls, both." And he +turned away with an air of hopeless depression, +that was far more pitiful than the loudest complaining.</p> + +<p>The sisters went away together, silent, and +feeling quite "out" with each other. But +Sophia really had a nervous attack, and was +shivery and sick with it. By the lighted candle +in her hand, Charlotte saw that her very lips +were white, and that heavy tears were silently +rolling down her wan cheeks. They washed +all of Charlotte's anger away; she forgot her +resolution not to enter her sister's room again, +and at its door she said, "Let me stay with +<a name="Page_130" id="Page_130"></a>you till you can sleep, Sophia; or I will go, +and ask Ann to make you a cup of strong coffee. +You are suffering very much."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am suffering; and father knows how +I do suffer with these headaches, and that +any annoyance brings them on; and yet, if +Harry cries out at Edinburgh, every one in +Seat-Sandal must be put out of their own way +to help him. And I do think it is a shame that +our little fortunes are to be crumbled as a kind +of spice into his big fortune. If Harry does +not know the value of money I do."</p> + +<p>"I will pay you back every pound. I really +do not care a bit about money. I have all the +dress I want. You buy books and music, I do +not. I have no use for my money except to +make happiness with it; and, after all, that is +the best interest I can possibly get."</p> + +<p>"Very well. Then, you can pay Harry's +debts if it gives you pleasure. I suppose I am +a little peculiar on this subject. Last Sunday, +when the rector was preaching about the prodigal +son, I could not help thinking that the +sympathy for the bad young man was too much. +I know, if I had been the elder brother, I should +have felt precisely as he did. I don't think he +<a name="Page_131" id="Page_131"></a>ought to be blamed. And it would certainly +have been more just and proper for the father +to have given the feast and the gifts to the son +who never at any time transgressed his commandments. +You see, Charlotte, that parable +is going on all over the world ever since; going +on right here in Seat-Sandal; and I am on the +elder brother's side. Harry has given me a +headache to-night; and I dare say he is enjoying +himself precisely as the Jerusalem prodigal +did before the swine husks, when it was the +riotous living."</p> + +<p>"Have a cup of coffee, Sophy. I'll go down +for it. You are just as trembly and excited as +you can be."</p> + +<p>"Very well; thank you, Charlotte. You +always have such a bright, kind face. I am +afraid I do not deserve such a good sister."</p> + +<p>"Yes, you do deserve all I can help or pleasure +you in." And then, when the coffee had +been taken, and Sophia lay restless and wide-eyed +upon her bed, Charlotte proposed to read +to her from any book she desired; an offer +involving no small degree of self-denial, for +Sophia's books were very rarely interesting, or +even intelligible, to her sister. But she lifted +<a name="Page_132" id="Page_132"></a>the nearest two, Barret's "Maga," and "The +Veiled Prophet," and rather dismally asked +which it was to be?</p> + +<p>"Neither of them, Charlotte. The 'Maga' +makes me think, and I know you detest poetry. +I got a letter to-night from Agnes Bulteel, and +it appears to be about Professor Sedgwick. I +was so annoyed at Harry I could not feel any +interest in it then; but, if you don't object, I +should like to hear you read it now."</p> + +<p>"Object? No, indeed. I think a great deal +of the old professor. What gay times father +and I have had on the Screes with him, and +his hammer and leather bags! And, as Agnes +writes a large, round hand, and does not fresco +her letters, I can read about the professor easily."</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">Respected Miss Sandal</span>,—I have such a thing to +tell you about Professor Sedgwick and our Joe; hoping +that the squire or Miss Charlotte may see him, and let +him know that Joe meant no harm at all. One hot forenoon +lately, when we were through at home, an old gentlemanly +make of a fellow came into our fold, and said, +quite natural, that he wanted somebody to go with him +on to the fells. We all stopped, and took a good look +at him before anybody spoke; but at last father said, +middling sharp-like,—he always speaks that way, does +father, when we're busy,—</p><p><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133"></a></p> + +<p>"We've something else to do here than go raking +over the fells on a fine day like this with nobody knows +who."</p> + +<p>He gave father a lile, cheerful bit of a laugh, and said +he didn't want to hinder work; but he would give anybody +that knew the fells well a matter of five shillings +to go with him, and carry his two little bags. And +father says to our Joe, "Away with thee! It's a crown +more than ever thou was worth at home." So the +strange man gave Joe two little leather bags to carry; +and Joe thought he was going to make his five shillings +middling easy, for he never expected he would find any +thing on the fells to put into the bags. But Joe was +mistaken. The old gentleman, he said, went louping +over wet spots and great stones, and scraffling over +crags and screes, till you would have thought he was +some kin to a Herdwick sheep.</p></div> + +<p>Charlotte laughed heartily at this point. +"It is just the way Sedgwick goes on. He led +father and me exactly such a chase one day +last June."</p> + +<p>"I dare say he did. I remember you looked +like it. Go on."</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>After a while he began looking hard at all the stones +and crags he came to; and then he took to breaking +lumps off them with a queer little hammer he had with +him, and stuffing the bits into the bags that Joe was carrying. +He fairly capped Joe then. He couldn't tell what +<a name="Page_134" id="Page_134"></a>to make of such a customer. At last Joe asked him +why ever he came so far up the fell for little bits of +stone, when he might get so many down in the dales? +He laughed, and went on knapping away with his little +hammer, and said he was a jolly-jist.</p></div> + +<p>"Geologist she means, Charlotte."</p> + +<p>"Of course; but Agnes spells it 'jolly-jist.'"</p> + +<p>"Agnes ought to know better. She waited +table frequently, and must have heard the word +pronounced. Go on, Charlotte."</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>He kept on at this feckless work till late in the afternoon, +and by that time he had filled both bags full with +odd bits of stone. Joe said he hadn't often had a harder +darrack after sheep at clipping-time than he had after +that old man, carrying his leather bags. But, however, +they got back to our house, and mother gave the stranger +some bread and milk; and after he had taken it, and +talked with father about sheep-farming and such like, he +paid Joe his five shillings like a man, and told him he +would give him another five shillings if he would bring +his bags full of stones down to Skeàl-Hill by nine o'clock +in the morning.</p></div> + +<p>"Are you sleepy Sophy?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear, no! Go on."</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Next morning Joe took the bags, and started for +Skeàl-Hill. It was another hot morning; and he hadn't +gone far till he began to think that he was as great a +<a name="Page_135" id="Page_135"></a>fool as the jolly-jist to carry broken stones to Skeàl-Hill, +when he could find plenty on any road-side close to +the place he was going to. So he shook them out of the +bags, and stepped on a gay bit lighter without them. +When he got near to Skeàl-Hill he found old Abraham +Atchisson sitting on a stool, breaking stones to mend +roads with; and Joe asked him if he could fill his leather +bags from his heap. Abraham told Joe to take them +that wasn't broken if he wanted stones; so Joe told him +how it was, and all about it. The old man was like to +tottle off his stool with laughing, and he said, "Joe take +good care of thysen'; thou art over sharp to live very long +in this world; fill thy bags, and make on with thee."</p></div> + +<p>"Don't you remember old Abraham, Sophy? +He built the stone dyke at the lower fold."</p> + +<p>"No, I do not remember, I think."</p> + +<p>"You are getting sleepy. Shall I stop?"</p> + +<p>"No, no; finish the letter."</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>When Joe got to Skeàl-Hill, the jolly-jist had just +got his breakfast, and they took Joe into the parlor to +him. He laughed all over when Joe went in with the +bags, and told him to set them down in a corner, and +asked him if he would have some breakfast. Joe had +had his porridge, but he said he didn't mind; so he +told them to bring in some more coffee and eggs, and +ham and toasted bread; and Joe got such a breakfast as +isn't common with him, while the old gentleman was +getting himself ready to go off in a carriage that was +<a name="Page_136" id="Page_136"></a>waiting at the door for him. When he came down-stairs +he gave Joe another five shillings, and paid for Joe's +breakfast, and for what he had eaten himself. Then he +told him to put the leather bags beside the driver's feet, +and into the carriage he got, and laughed, and nodded, +and away he went; and then Joe heard them say he +was Professor Sedgwick, a great jolly-jist. And Joe +thinks it would be a famous job if father could sell all +of the stones on our fell at five shillings a bagful, and a +breakfast at odd times. And would it not be so, Miss +Sandal? But I'm not easy in my mind about Joe changing +the stones; though, as Joe says, one make of stone +is about the same as another.</p></div> + +<p>"Sophia, you are sleepy now."</p> + +<p>"Yes, a little. You can finish to-morrow."</p> + +<p>Then she laid down the simple letter, and sat +very still for a little while. Her heart was +busy. There is a solitary place that girdles +our life into which it is good to enter at the +close of every day. There we may sit still +with our own soul, and commune with it; and +out of its peace pass easily into the shadowy +kingdom of sleep, and find a little space of +rest prepared. So Charlotte sat in quiet meditation +until Sophia was fathoms deep below +the tide of life. Sight, speech, feeling, where +were they gone? Ah! when the door is +<a name="Page_137" id="Page_137"></a>closed, and the windows darkened, who can tell +what passes in the solemn temple of mortality? +Are we unvisited then? Unfriended? Uncounselled?</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p> +"Behold!<br /> +The solemn spaces of the night are thronged<br /> +By bands of tender dreams, that come and go<br /> +Over the land and sea; they glide at will<br /> +Through all the dim, strange realms of men asleep,<br /> +And visit every soul."<br /> +</p></div><p><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138"></a></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI.</h2> + +<h3>THE DAY BEFORE CHRISTMAS.</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"Still to ourselves in every place consigned.<br /> +Our own felicity we make or find."</p> + +<p>"Catch, then, oh, catch the transient hour!<br /> +Improve each moment as it flies.<br /> +Life's a short summer, man a flower;<br /> +He dies, alas! how soon he dies!"<br /></p><br /> +</div> + +<p>There are days which rise sadly, go on +without sunshine, and pass into night +without one gleam of color. Life, also, has +these pallid, monotonous hours. A distrust of +all things invades the soul, and physical inertia +and mental languor make daily existence a simple +weight. It was Christmas-time, but the +squire felt none of the elation of the season. +He was conscious that the old festal preparations +were going on, but there was no response +to them in his heart. Julius had arrived, and +was helping Sophia to hang the holly and mistletoe. +But Sandal knew that his soul shrank +<a name="Page_139" id="Page_139"></a>from the nephew he had called into his life; +knew that the sound of his voice irritated him, +that his laugh filled him with resentment, that +his very presence in the house seemed to desecrate +it, and to slay for him the very idea of +home.</p> + +<p>He was sitting in the "master's room," wondering +how the change had come about. But +he found nothing to answer the wonder, because +he was looking for some palpable wrong, +some distinctive time or cause. He was himself +too simple-hearted to reflect that it is seldom +a great fault which destroys liking for a +person. A great fault can be forgiven. It is +small personal offences constantly repeated; +little acts of meanness, and, above all, the petty +plans and provisions of a selfish nature. Besides +which, the soul has often marvellous +intuitions, unmasking men and things; premonitions, +warnings, intelligences, that it cannot +doubt and cannot explain.</p> + +<p>Inside the house there was a pleasant air and +stir of preparation; the rapid movements of servants, +the shutting and opening of doors, the +low laughter of gay hearts well contented with +the time and the circumstances. Outside, the +<a name="Page_140" id="Page_140"></a>mesmerizing snow was falling with a soft, +silent persistence. The squire looked sadly at +the white hills, and the white park, and the +branches bending under their load, and the +sombre sky, gray upon darker gray.</p> + +<p>Last Christmas the girls had relied entirely +upon his help. He had found the twine, and +driven the nails, and steadied the ladder when +Sophia's light form mounted it in order to +hang the mistletoe. They had been so happy. +The echo of their voices, their snatches of +Christmas carols, their laughter and merry +badinage, was still in his heart. He remembered +the impromptu lunch, which they had +enjoyed so much while at work. He could see +the mother come smiling in, with constant samples +of the Christmas cheer fresh out of the +oven. He had printed the verses and mottoes +himself, spent all the afternoon over them, and +been rather proud of his efforts. Charlotte +had said, "they were really beautiful;" even +Sophia had admitted that "they looked well +among the greens." But to-day he had not +been asked to assist in the decorations. True, +he had said, in effect, that he did not wish to +assist; but, all the same, he felt shut out from +<a name="Page_141" id="Page_141"></a>his old pre-eminence; and he could not help +regarding Julius Sandal as a usurper.</p> + +<p>These were drearisome Christmas thoughts +and feelings; and they found their climax in a +pathetic complaint, "I never thought Charlotte +would have given me the go-by. All along +she has taken my side, no matter what came +up. Oh, my little lass!"</p> + +<p>As if in answer to the heart-cry, Charlotte +opened the door. She was dressed in furs and +tweeds, and she had the squire's big coat and +woollen wraps in her hand. Before he could +speak, she had reached his chair, and put her +arm across his shoulder, and said in her bright, +confidential way, "Come, father, let you and +me have a bit of pleasure by ourselves: there +isn't much comfort in the house to-day."</p> + +<p>"You say right, Charlotte; you do so, my +dear. Where shall we go? Eh? Where?"</p> + +<p>"Wherever you like best. There is no snow +to hamper us yet. Some of the servants are +down from Up-Hill. Ducie has sent mother a +great spice-loaf and a fine Christmas cheese."</p> + +<p>"Ducie is a kind woman. I have known +Ducie ever since I knew myself. Could we +climb the fell-breast, Charlotte? Eh? What?"</p><p><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142"></a></p> + +<p>"I think we could. Ducie will miss it, if you +don't go and wish her 'a merry Christmas.' +You never missed grandfather Latrigg. Old +friends are best, father."</p> + +<p>"They are that. Is Steve at home?"</p> + +<p>"He isn't coming home this Christmas. I +wasn't planning about Steve, father. Don't +think such a thing as that of me."</p> + +<p>"I don't, Charlotte. I don't think of Charlotte +Sandal and of any thing underhand at the +same time. I'm a bit troubled and out of sorts +this morning, my dear."</p> + +<p>She kissed him affectionately for answer. +She not only divined what a trial Julius had +become, but she knew also that his heart was +troubled in far greater depths than Julius had +any power to stir. Harry Sandal was really at +the root of every bitter moment. For Harry +had not taken the five hundred pounds with the +creditable contrite humiliation of the repenting +prodigal. It was even yet doubtful whether he +would respond to his parents' urgent request +to spend Christmas at Seat-Sandal. And when +there is one rankling wrong, which we do not +like to speak of, it is so natural to relieve the +heart by talking a great deal about those +<a name="Page_143" id="Page_143"></a>wrongs which we are less inclined to disguise +and deny.</p> + +<p>In the great hall a sudden thought struck +the squire; and he stood still, and looked in +Charlotte's face. "You are sure that you want +to go, my dear? Won't you be missed? Eh? +What?"</p> + +<p>She clasped his hand tighter, and shook +her head very positively. "They don't want +me, father. I am in the way."</p> + +<p>He did not answer until they had walked +some distance; then he asked meaningly, "Has +it come to that? Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, it has come to that."</p> + +<p>"I am very glad it isn't you. And I'm nettled +at myself for ever showing him a road to +slight you, Charlotte."</p> + +<p>"If there is any slight between Julius and +me, father, I gave it; for he asked me to marry +him, and I plainly told him no."</p> + +<p>"Hear—you—but. I <i>am</i> glad. You refused +him? Come, come, that's a bit of pleasure I +would have given a matter of five pounds to +have known a day or two since. It would have +saved me a few good ratings. Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>"Why, father! Who has been rating you?"</p><p><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144"></a></p> + +<p>"Myself, to be sure. You can't think what +set-downs I have given William Sandal. Do +you mind telling me about that refusal, Charlotte? +Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>"Not a bit. It was in the harvest-field. He +said he loved me, and I told him gentlemen did +not talk that way to girls who had never given +them the least encouragement; and I said I did +not love him, and never, never could love him. +I was very firm, father, perhaps a little bit +cross; for I did not like the way he spoke. I +don't think he admires me at all now."</p> + +<p>"I dare be bound he doesn't. 'Firm and a +little bit cross.' It wouldn't be a nice five +minutes for Julius. He sets a deal of store by +himself;" and then, as if he thought it was his +duty not to show too much gratification, he +added, "I hope you were very civil, Charlotte. +A good asker should have a good nay-say. +And you refused him? Well, I <i>am</i> pleased. +Mother never heard tell of it? Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no; I have told no one but you. At +the long end you always get at my secrets, +father."</p> + +<p>"We've had a goodish few together,—fishing +secrets, and such like; but I must tell +<a name="Page_145" id="Page_145"></a>mother this one, eh? She <i>will</i> go on about it. +In the harvest-field, was it? I understand now +why he walked himself off a day or two before +the set day. And he is all for Sophia now, is +he? Well, I shouldn't wonder if Sophia will +'best' him a little on every side. You <i>have</i> +given me a turn, Charlotte. I didn't think of +a son-in-law yet,—not just yet. Dear me! +How life does go on! Ever since the sheep-shearing +it has been running away with me. +Life is a road on which there is no turning +round, Charlotte. Oh, if there only were! If +you could just run back to where you made the +wrong turning! If you could only undo things +that you have done! Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>"Not even God can make what has been, not +to have been. When a thing is done, if it is +only the taking of a walk, the walk is taken to +all eternity."</p> + +<p>At the word "eternity," they stood on the +brow of the hill which they had been climbing, +and the squire said it again very solemnly. +"Eternity! How dreadful to spend it in repentance +which can undo nothing! That is +the most awful conception of the word 'eternity.' +Eh? What?"</p><p><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146"></a></p> + +<p>They were silent a moment, then Sandal +turned and looked westward. "It is mizzling +already, Charlotte; the snow will turn into rain, +and we shall have a down-pour. Had we not +better go home?"</p> + +<p>But Charlotte painted in such glowing colors +Ducie's fireside, and the pipe, and the cosey, +quiet dinner they would be sure to get there, +that the squire could not resist the temptation. +"For all will be at sixes and sevens at home," +he commented, "and no peace for anybody, +with greens and carols and what not. Eh? +What?"</p> + +<p>"And very likely, as it is Christmas Eve, you +may be asked to give Sophia away. So a nice +dinner, and a quiet smoke, and an hour's nap +will help you through to-night." And the +thought in each heart, beyond this one, was +"Perhaps Harry will be at home."</p> + +<p>Nobody missed the fugitives. Mrs. Sandal +was sure Harry would come, and she was busy +preparing his room with her own hands. The +brightest fire, the gayest greens, the whitest +and softest and best of every thing, she chose +for Harry's room.</p> + +<p>Certainly they were not missed by Julius and<a name="Page_147" id="Page_147"></a> +Sophia. They were far too much interested in +themselves and in their own affairs. From the +first hour of his return to Seat-Sandal, Sophia +had understood that Julius was her lover, and +that the time for his declaration rested in the +main with herself. When the Christmas bells +were ringing, when the house was bright with +light and evergreens, and the very atmosphere +full of happiness, she had determined to give +him the necessary encouragement. But the +clock of Fate cannot be put back. When the +moment arrives, the word is spoken or the deed +done. Both of them were prepared for the +moment, and yet not just then prepared; for +Love still holds his great surprise somewhat in +reserve.</p> + +<p>They were in the drawing-room. The last +vase had been filled, the last wreath hung; +and Sophia looked at her beautiful hands, +marked with the rim of the scissors, and stained +with leaves and berries, in a little affected +distress. Julius seated himself on the sofa +beside her. She trembled, but he looked at her +almost triumphantly. Over Sophia's heart he +knew his power. With the questioning, unwinking +gaze of love his eyes sought hers, and +<a name="Page_148" id="Page_148"></a>he tenderly spoke her name, "<i>Sophia</i>." She +could answer only by her conscious silence.</p> + +<p>"My wife! Mine in lives long forgotten."</p> + +<p>"O Julius!"</p> + +<p>"Always mine; missed in some existences, +recovered in others, but bringing into every life +with you my mark of ownership. See here."</p> + +<p>Then he lifted her hand, and opening its +palm upward, he placed his own in the same +attitude beside it. "Look into them both, +Sophia, and see how closely our line of fortune +is alike. That is something, but behold." +And he showed her a singular mark, which had +in his own palm its precise counterpart.</p> + +<p>"Is it not also in Charlotte's palm? In +others?"</p> + +<p>"No, indeed. Among all the women on +earth, only yours has this facsimile of my own. +It is the soul mark upon the body. Every +educated Hindoo can trace it; and all will tell +you, that, if two individuals have it precisely +alike, they are twin souls, and nothing can prevent +their union."</p> + +<p>"Did they explain it to you, Julius?"</p> + +<p>"An Oriental never explains. They apprehend +what is too subtle for words. They know +<a name="Page_149" id="Page_149"></a>best just what they have never been told. +Sophia, this hand of yours fits mine. It is the +key to it; the interpreter of my fate. Give me +my own, darling."</p> + +<p>To Charlotte he would never have spoken in +such a tone. She would have resented its +claim and authority, and perceived that it was +likely to be the first encroachment of a tyranny +she did not intend to bow to. But Sophia was +easily deceived on this ground. She liked the +mystical air it gave to the event; the gray +sanction of unknown centuries to the love of +to-day.</p> + +<p>They speculated and supposed, and were +supremely happy. The usual lover wanders in +the dreams of the future: they sought each +other through the phantom visions of the past. +And they were so charmed with the occupation, +that they quite forgot the exigencies and claims +of the present existence until the rattle of +wheels, the stamping of feet, and a joyful cry +from Mrs. Sandal recalled them to it.</p> + +<p>"It is Harry," said Sophia. "I must go to +him, Julius."</p> + +<p>He held her very firmly. "I am first. +Wait a moment. You must promise me once +<a name="Page_150" id="Page_150"></a>more: 'My life is your life, my love is your +love, my will is your will, my interest is your +interest; I am your second self.' Will you say +this Sophia, as I say it?" And she answered +him without a word. Love knows how such +speech may be. Even when she had escaped +from her lover, she was not very sorry to find +that Harry had gone at once to his own room; +for he had driven through the approaching +storm, and been thoroughly drenched. She +was longing for a little solitude to bethink her +of the new position in which she found herself; +for, though she had a dreamy curiosity about +her pre-existences, she had a very active and +positive interest in the success and happiness +of her present life.</p> + +<p>Suddenly she remembered Charlotte, and +with the remembrance came the fact that she +had not seen her since the early forenoon. But +she immediately coupled the circumstance with +the absence of the squire, and then she reached +the real solution of the position in a moment. +"They have gone to Up-Hill, of course. Father +always goes the day before Christmas; and +Charlotte, no doubt, expected to find Steve at +home. I must tell Julius about Charlotte and<a name="Page_151" id="Page_151"></a> +Steve. Julius will not approve of a young man +like Steve in our family, and it ought not to be. +I am sure father and mother think so."</p> + +<p>At this point in her reflections, she heard +Charlotte enter her own room, but she did not +go to her. Sophia had a dislike to wet, untidy +people, and she was not in any particular flurry +to tell her success. Indeed, she was rather +inclined to revel for an hour in the sense of +it belonging absolutely to Julius and herself. +She was not one of those impolitic women, +who fancy that they double their happiness by +imparting it to others.</p> + +<p>She determined to dress with extraordinary +care. The occasion warranted it, surely; for +it was not only Christmas Eve, it was also her +betrothal eve. She put on her richest garment, +a handsome gown of dark blue silk and velvet. +A spray of mistletoe-berries was in her black +hair, and a glittering necklace of fine sapphires +enhanced the beauty and whiteness of her +exquisite neck and shoulders. She was delighted +with the effect of her own brave +apparel, and also a little excited with the +course events had taken, or she never would +have so far forgotten the privileges of her elder +<a name="Page_152" id="Page_152"></a>birth as to visit Charlotte's room first on such +an important personal occasion.</p> + +<p>Charlotte was still wrapped in her dressing-gown, +lazily musing before the crackling, blazing +fire. Her hands were clasped above her +head, her feet comfortably extended upon the +fender, her eyes closed. She had been a little +tired with buffeting the storm; and the hot tea, +which Mrs. Sandal had insisted upon as a preventative +of cold, had made her, as she told +Sophia, "deliciously dozy."</p> + +<p>"But dinner will be ready in half an hour, +and you have to dress yet, Charlotte. How do +I look?"</p> + +<p>"You look charming. How bright your +eyes are, Sophia! I never saw you look so +well. How much Julius will admire you to-night!"</p> + +<p>"As to that, Julius always admires me. He +says he used to dream about me, even before +he saw me."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you know that is nonsense! He couldn't +do that. I dare say he dreams about you now, +though. I should think he would like to."</p> + +<p>"You will have to hurry, Charlotte."</p> + +<p>"I can dress in ten minutes if I want to."</p><p><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153"></a></p> + +<p>"I will leave you now." She hesitated a +moment at the door, but she could not bring +herself to speak of her engagement. She saw +that Charlotte was in one of her "no-matter-every-thing-right" +moods, and knew she would +take the important news without the proper +surprise and enthusiasm. In fact, she perceived +that Harry's visit occupied her whole +mind; for, as she stood a moment or two irresolute +as to her own desires, Charlotte talked +eagerly of her brother.</p> + +<p>"Well, I hope if Harry is of so much importance +in your eyes, you will dress decently to +meet him. The rector is coming to dinner +also."</p> + +<p>"I shall wear my blue gown. If I imitate +you, I cannot be much out of the way. Heigh-ho! +Heigh-ho! I hope Harry will have a +pleasant visit. We must do our best, Sophia, +to make him happy."</p> + +<p>"O Charlotte, if you have nothing to talk +about but Harry, Harry, Harry, I am going! +I am very fond of Harry, but I don't pretend to +be blind to Harry's faults. Remember how +many disagreeable hours he has given us lately. +And I must say that I think he was very +<a name="Page_154" id="Page_154"></a>ungrateful about the hundred and eighty pounds +I gave him. He never wrote me a line of +thanks."</p> + +<p>"You did not give it to Harry, you loaned it +to me. Be just Sophia. I have paid you fifteen +pounds of it back already, and I shall not +buy a single new dress until it is all returned. +You will not lose a shilling, Sophia."</p> + +<p>"How Quixotic you can be! However, it is +no use exciting ourselves to-night. One likes +to keep the peace at Yule-tide, and so I will +bow down to your idol as much as I can conscientiously."</p> + +<p>Charlotte made no answer. She had risen +hastily, and with rather unnecessary vigor was +rattling the ewer and basin, and plashing out +the water. Sophia came back into the room, +arranged the glass at the proper angle to give +her a last comprehensive review of herself; and +this being quite satisfactory, she went away +with a smiling complacency, and a subdued +excitement of manner, which in some peculiar +way revealed to Charlotte the real position of +affairs between her sister and Julius Sandal.</p> + +<p>"She might have told me." She dashed +the water over her face at the implied complaint; +<a name="Page_155" id="Page_155"></a>and it was easy to see, from the impatient +way in which she subsequently unbound +her hair, and pulled the comb through it, and +from the irritability of all her movements, that +she felt the omission to be a slight, not only +indicating something not quite pleasant in the +past, but prefiguring also she knew not what +disagreeable feelings for the future.</p> + +<p>"It is not Sophia's fault," she muttered; +"Julius is to blame for it. I think he really +hates me now. He has said to her, 'There is +no need to tell Charlotte, specially; it will +make her of too much importance. I don't +approve of Charlotte in many ways.' Oh, I +know you, sir!" and with the thought she +pulled the string of her necklace so impatiently +that it broke; and the golden beads fell to her +feet, and rolled hither and thither about the +room.</p> + +<p>The incident calmed her. She finished her +toilet in haste, and went down-stairs. All the +rooms were lighted, and she saw Julius and +Sophia pacing up and down the main parlor, +hand in hand, so interested in their <i>sotto voce</i> +conversation as to be quite unconscious that +she had stood a moment at the open door for +<a name="Page_156" id="Page_156"></a>their recognition. So she passed on without +troubling them. She heard her mother's happy +laugh in the large dining-room, and she guessed +from its tone that Harry was with her. Mrs. +Sandal was beautifully dressed in black satin, +and she held in her hand a handsome silver +salver. Evidently she had been about to leave +the room with it, when detained by some +remark of her son's; for she was half-way +between the table and the door, her pretty, +kindly face all alight with love and happiness.</p> + +<p>Harry was standing on the hearth-rug, facing +the room,—a splendidly handsome young fellow +in a crimson and yellow uniform. He was +in the midst of a hearty laugh, but when he +saw Charlotte there was a sudden and wonderful +transformation in his face. It grew in a +moment much finer, more thoughtful, wistful, +human. He sprang forward, took her in his +arms, and kissed her. Then he held her from +him a little, looked at her again, and kissed her +again; and with that last kiss he whispered, +"You good sister. You saved me, Charlotte, +with that five hundred pounds."</p> + +<p>"I would have given it had it been my all, +it been fifty times as much, Harry."</p><p><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157"></a></p> + +<p>There was no need to say another word. +Harry and Charlotte understood each other, +and Harry turned the conversation upon his +cousin.</p> + +<p>"This Indian fellow, this Sandal of the +Brahminical caste, what is he like, Charley?"</p> + +<p>"He does not admire me, Harry; so how +can I admire him?"</p> + +<p>"Then there must be something wrong +with him in the fundamentals; a natural-born +inability to admire what is lovely and +good."</p> + +<p>"You mustn't say such a thing as that, +Harry. I am sure that Sophia is engaged to +him."</p> + +<p>"Does father like him?"</p> + +<p>"Not much; but Julius is a Sandal, after +all, and"—</p> + +<p>"After me, the next heir. Exactly. It shall +not be my fault, Charley, if he does not stand +a little farther off soon. I can get married +too."</p> + +<p>"O Harry, if you only would! It is your +duty; and there is little Emily Beverley. She +is so beautiful and good, and she adores you, +Harry."</p><p><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158"></a></p> + +<p>"Dear little Emmy. I used to love Emmy +a long time ago."</p> + +<p>"It would make father so happy, and mother +and me too. And the Beverleys are related to +mother,—and isn't mother sweet. Father was +saying"—</p> + +<p>At that moment the squire entered the room. +His face was a little severe; but the moment +his eyes fell upon Charlotte and Harry, every +line of sternness was gone like a flash. Harry's +arm was round his sister's waist, her head +against his shoulder; but in a moment he gently +released himself, and went to his father. And +in his nineteenth-century way he said what +the erring son of old said, "Father, I have not +done right lately. I am very sorry."</p> + +<p>"Say no more, Harry, my lad. There shall +be no back reckoning between you and me. +You have been mixed up with a sight of follies, +but you can over-get all that. You take after +me in looks. Up-sitting and down-sitting, you +are my son. You come of a good kind; you +have a kind heart and plenty of dint;<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> now, +then, make a fresh start, Harry. Oh, my dear, +dear son!" The father's eyes were full of +<a name="Page_159" id="Page_159"></a>tears, his face shone with love, and he held the +young man's hand in a clasp which forgave +every thing in the past, and promised everything +for the future.</p> + +<p>Then Julius and Sophia came in, and there +was barely time to introduce the young men +before dinner was served. They disliked each +other on sight; indeed, the dislike was anterior +to sight, and may be said to have commenced +when Harry first heard how thoroughly at +home Julius had made himself at Seat-Sandal, +and when Julius first saw what a desirable +estate and fine old "seat" Harry's existence +deprived him of. And in half an hour this +general aversion began to particularize itself. +The slim, suave youth, with his black eyes and +soft speech, and small hands and feet, seemed +to Harry Sandal in every respect an interloper. +The Saxon in this Sandal was lost in the +Oriental. The two races were, indeed, distinctly +evident in the two men in many ways, +but noticeably in their eyes: Harry's being +large, blue, and wide open; those of Julius, +very black; and in their long, narrow setting +and dreamy look, expressing centuries of tranquil +contemplation.</p><p><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160"></a></p> + +<p>But the dinner passed off very pleasantly, +more so than family festivals usually pass. +After it the lovers went into private session to +consider whether they should declare their new +relationship during the evening, or wait until +Julius could have a private audience with the +squire. Sophia was inclined to the first course, +because of the presence of the rector. She +felt that his blessing on her betrothal would +add a religious grace to the event, but Julius +was averse to speak on any matter so private +to himself before Harry Sandal. He felt that +he could neither endure his congratulations nor +his dissent; that, in fact, he did not want his +opinion on the matter at all. Besides, he had +determined to have but one discussion of the +affair, and that must include all pertaining to +Sophia's rights and her personal fortune.</p> + +<p>While they were deciding this momentous +question, the rector and Charlotte were singing +over the carols for the Christmas service; the +squire was smoking and listening; and Harry +was talking in a low voice to his mother. But +after the rector had gone, it became very difficult +to avoid a feeling of <i>ennui</i> and restraint, +although it was Christmas Eve. Mrs. Sandal +<a name="Page_161" id="Page_161"></a>soon went into the housekeeper's room to +assist in the preparation of the Yule hampers +for the families of the men who worked +on the estate. Sandal fell into a musing fit, +and soon appeared to be dozing; although +Charlotte saw that he occasionally opened his +eyes, and looked at the whispering lovers, or +else shot her a glance full of sympathetic intelligence.</p> + +<p>Music has many according charms, and Charlotte +tried it, but with small success. Julius +and Sophia had a song in their own hearts, and +this night they knew no other. Harry loved +his sister very dearly, but he was not inclined +to "carolling;" and the repression and constraint +were soon evident through all the conventional +efforts to be "merry." It was the +squire who finally hit upon the circumstance +which tided over the evening, and sent every +one to bed in a ripple of laughter. For, when +the piano was closed, he opened his eyes, and +said, "Sophia, your mother tells me she has +had a very nice Christmas present from the little +maid you took such a liking to,—little Agnes +Bulteel. It is a carriage hap made of sheepskins +white as the snow, and from some new +<a name="Page_162" id="Page_162"></a>breed of sheep surely; for the wool is longer +and silkier than ever I saw."</p> + +<p>"Agnes Bulteel!" cried Charlotte. "O +Sophia! where are her last letters? I am sure +father would like to hear about Joe and the +jolly-jist."</p> + +<p>"Joe Bulteel is no fool," said the squire +warmly. "It is the way around here to laugh +a bit at Joe; but Joe aims to do right, and he is +a very spirity lad. What are you and Sophia +laughing at? Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>"Get the letters, Sophia. Julius and Harry +will enjoy them I know. Harry must remember +Joe Bulteel."</p> + +<p>"Certainly. Joe has carried my line and +creel many a day. Trout couldn't fool Joe. +He was the one to find plovers' eggs, and to +spot a blaeberry patch. Joe has some senses +ordinary people do not have, I think. I should +like to hear about Joe and the <i>what</i>?"</p> + +<p>"The jolly-jist,—Professor Sedgwick really. +Joe has been on the fells with the professor."</p> + +<p>So they drew around the fire, and Sophia +went for the letters. She was a good reader, +and could give the county peculiarities with all +their quaint variations of mood and temper +<a name="Page_163" id="Page_163"></a>and accent. She was quite aware that the +reading would exhibit her in an entirely new +<i>rôle</i> to Julius, and she entered upon the task +with all the confidence and enthusiasm which +insured the entertainment. And as both Professor +Sedgwick and Joe Bulteel were well +known to the squire and Harry, they entered +into the joke also with all their hearts; and +one peal of laughter followed another, as the +squire's comments made many a distinct addition +to the unconscious humor of the letters.</p> + +<p>At that point of the story where Joe had triumphantly +pocketed his last five shillings, and +gone home reflecting on what a "famous job it +would be to sell all the stones on their fell at +five shillings a little bagful," Mrs. Sandal entered. +A servant followed with spiced wine +and dainty bits of cake and pastry; and then, +after a merry interval of comment and refreshment, +Sophia resumed the narrative.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>All this happened at the end of May, Miss Sandal; +and one day last August father went down Lorton way, +and it was gayly late when he got home. As he was sitting +on his own side the fire, trying to loose the buttons +of his spats, he said to Joe, "I called at Skeàl-Hill on +my road home." Mother was knitting at her side of the +<a name="Page_164" id="Page_164"></a>hearth. She hadn't opened her mouth since father came +home; nay, she hadn't so much as looked at him after +the one hard glower that she gave him at first; but when +he said he'd been at Skeàl-Hill, she gave a grunt, and +said, as if she spoke to nobody but herself, "Ay, a blind +body might see that."—"I was speaking to Joe," said +father. "Joe," said he again, "I was at Skeàl-Hill,"—mother +gave another grunt then,—"and they told me +that thy old friend the jolly-jist is back again. I think +thou had better step down, and see if he wants to buy +any more broken stones; old Abraham has a fine heap +or two lying aside Kirgat." Joe thought he had done +many a dafter thing than take father at his word, whether +he meant it or not; and so thought, so done, for next +morning he took himself off to Skeàl-Hill.</p> + +<p>When he got there, and asked if the jolly-jist was +stirring yet, one servant snorted, and another grunted, +till Joe got rather maddish; but at last one of them skipjacks +of fellows, that wear a little jacket like a lass's +bedgown, said he would see. He came back laughing, +and said, "Come this way, Joe." Well, our Joe followed +him till he stopped before a room door; and he gave a +little knock, and then opened it, and says he, "Joe, sir." +Joe wasn't going to stand that; and he said, "'Joe, sir,' +he'll ken its 'Joe, sir,' as soon as he sees the face of me. +And get out with thy 'Joe, sir,' or I'll make thee laugh +at the wrong side of that ugly face of thine." With that +the fellow skipped out of our Joe's way gayly sharp, and +Joe stepped quietly into the room.</p> + +<p>There the little old gentleman was sitting at a table +<a name="Page_165" id="Page_165"></a>writing,—gray hair, spectacles, white neck-cloth, black +clothes,—just as if he had never either doffed or donned +himself since he went away. But before Joe could put +out his hand, or say a civil word to him, he glinted up at +Joe through his spectacles very fierce like, and grunted +out something about wondering how Joe durst show his +face again. Well, that put the cap on all for poor Joe. +He had thought over what father said, and <i>how</i> he said it, +on his road down till he found himself getting rather mad +about it; and the way they all snorted and laughed when +he came to Skeàl-Hill made him madder; and that bedgown +fellow, with his "Joe, sir," made him madder than +ever; but when the old jolly-jist—that he thought would +be so fain to see him, if it was only for the sake of their +sprogue on the fells together—when he wondered "how +Joe durst show his face there," it set Joe rantin' mad, and +he <i>did</i> make a burst.</p></div> + +<p>At this point the squire was laughing so noisily +that Sophia had to stop; and his hearty <i>ha, +ha, ha</i>! was so contagious, that Harry and Julius +and Charlotte, and even Mrs. Sandal, echoed +it in a variety of merry peals. Sophia was +calmer. She sat by the lamp, pleasantly conscious +of the amusement she was giving; and, +considering that she had already laughed the +circumstance out in her room, quite as well +entertained as any of the party. In a few minutes +the squire recovered himself. "Let us have +<a name="Page_166" id="Page_166"></a>the rest now, Sophia. I'd have given a gold +guinea to have heard Joe's 'burst.'"</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Show my face?" said Joe; "and what should I show, +then? If it comes to showing faces, I've a better face to +show than ever belonged to one of your breed, if the rest +of them are aught like the sample they have sent us. +But if you must know," said Joe, "I come of a stock that +never would be frightened to show their face to a king, +let alone an old noodles that calls himself a jolly-jist. +And I defy the face of clay," said Joe, "to show that +any of us ever did aught he need to be ashamed of, +wherever we show our faces. Dare to show my face, +eh?" said Joe again, "My song! but this is a bonnie welcome +to give a fellow that has come so far to see you +such a hot morning." Joe said a deal more of the same +make; and all the time he was saying it, the old man laid +himself back in his great chair, and kept twiddling his +thumbs, and glancing up at Joe with a half-smirk on his +face, as if he had got something very funny before him.</p></div> + +<p>"Joe is like all these shepherd lads," said the +squire, "as independent as never was. They +are a manly race, but the Bulteels all come of +a good kind."</p> + +<p>Julius laughed scornfully, but the squire took +him up very short. "You need not laugh, +nephew. It is as I say. The Bulteels are as +good stock as the Sandals; a fine old family, +<a name="Page_167" id="Page_167"></a>and, like the Sandals, at home here when the +Conqueror came. Joe would do the right thing +I'll be bound. Let us hear if he didn't, Sophia."</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>After a while Joe stopped, for he had run himself very +near short of wind; and he began rather to think shame +of shouting and bellering so at an old man, and him as +whisht as a trout through it all. And when Joe pulled in, +he only said, as quietly as ever was, that Joe was a "natural +curiosity."</p> + +<p>Joe didn't know very well what this meant; but he +thought it was sauce, and it had like to have set him off +again; but he beat himself down as well as he could, and +he said, "Have you any thing against me? If you have, +speak it out like a man; and don't sit there twiddling +your thumbs, and calling folks out of their names in this +road." Then it came out plain enough. All this ill-nature, +Miss Sandal, was just because poor Joe hadn't +brought him the same stones as he had gathered on the +fells; and he said that changing them was either a very +dirty trick, or a very clumsy joke.</p> + +<p>"Trick," said Joe. "<i>Joke</i>, did you say? It was +ratherly past a joke to expect me to carry a load of broken +stones all the way here, when there was plenty on the +spot. I'm not such a fool as you've taken me for," said +Joe. The jolly-jist took off his spectacles, and glowered +at Joe without them. Then he put them on again, and +glowered at Joe with them; and then he laughed, and +asked Joe, if he thought there could be no difference in +stones. "Why!" answered Joe, "you hardly have the +<a name="Page_168" id="Page_168"></a>face to tell me that one bag of stones isn't as good as +another bag of stones; and surely to man you'll never +be so conceited as to say that you can break stones better +than old Abraham Atchisson, who breaks them for +his bread, and breaks them all day long and every day."</p> + +<p>With that the old man laughed again, and told Joe +to sit down; and then he asked him what he thought +made him take so much trouble seeking bits of stone on +the fells, if he could get what he wanted on the road-side. +"Well," Joe said, "if I must tell you the truth, +I thought you were rather soft in the head; but it made +no matter what I thought, so long as you paid me so well +for going with you." As Joe said this, it came into his +head that it was better to flatter a fool than to fight him; +and after all, that there might be something in the old +man liking stones of his own breaking better than those +of other folks' breaking. We all think the most of what +we have had a hand in ourselves, don't we Miss Sandal? +It's nothing but natural. And as soon as this run, +through Joe's head, he found himself getting middling +sorry for the old man; and he said, "What will you give +me to get you your own bits of stones back again?"</p> + +<p>He cocked up his ears at that, and asked if his "speciments," +as he called them, were safe. "Ay," said Joe, +"they are safe enough. Nobody hereabout thinks a +little lot of stones worth meddling with, so long as they +don't lie in their road." With that the jolly-jist jumped +up, and said Joe must have something to eat and drink. +Then Joe thought to himself, "Come, come, we are getting +back to our own menseful way again." But he would +<a name="Page_169" id="Page_169"></a>not stir a peg till he heard what he was to have for +getting the stones again; for Joe knew he would never +hear the last of it, if he came home empty-handed. They +made it all right very soon, however; and the old man +went up-stairs, and brought down the two leather bags, +and gave them to Joe to carry, as if nothing had happened; +and off they started, very like as they did before.</p> + +<p>The Skeàl-Hill folk all gathered together about the +door to look after them, as if they had been a show; but +they neither of them minded for that, but walked away as +thick as inkle-weavers till they got to the foot of our +great meadow, where the stones were all lying just as +Joe had turned them out of the bags, only rather grown +over with grass. And as Joe picked them up one by +one, and handed them to the old jolly-jist, it did Joe's +heart good to see how pleased he looked. He wiped +them on his coat-cuff, and wet them, and glowered at +them through his spectacles, as if they were something +good to eat, and he was very hungry; and then he packed +them away into the bags till they were both chock full +again.</p> + +<p>Well, the bargain was, that Joe should carry them +back to Skeàl-Hill; so back they put, the jolly-jist watching +his bags all the way, as if they were full of golden +guineas, and our Joe a thief. When they got there, he +made Joe take them right into the parlor; and the first +thing he did was to call for some red wax and a light, +and he clapped a great splatch of a seal on either bag; +and then he looked at Joe, and gave a little grunt of a +laugh, and a smartish wag of the head, as much as to +<a name="Page_170" id="Page_170"></a>say, "Do it again, Joe, if you can." But after that he +said, "Here, Joe, is five shillings for restoring my speciments, +and here is another five shillings for showing me +a speciment of human nature that I did not believe in +until this day."<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a></p></div> + +<p>"That is good," cried the squire, clapping his +knee emphatically. "It was like the professor, +and it was like Joe Bulteel. The story does +them both credit. I am glad I heard it. Alice, +fill our glasses again." Then he stood up, and +looked around with a smile.</p> + +<p>"God's blessing on this house, and on all +beneath its roof-tree!</p> + +<p>"Wife and children, a merry Christmas to +you!</p> + +<p>"Friends and serving hands, a merry +Christmas to you!"</p> +<p><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171"></a></p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII.</h2> + +<h3>WOOING AND WEDDING.</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"She was made for him,—a special providence in his behalf."</p> + +<p>"Like to like,—and yet love may be dear bought."</p> + +<p>"In time comes she whom Fate sends."<br /> +</p><br /></div> + + + +<p>Until after Twelfth Night the Christmas +festivities were continued; but if the +truth had been admitted, the cumbrous ceremonials, +the excessive eating and visiting, +would have been pronounced by every one very +tiresome. Julius found it particularly so, for +the festival had no roots in his boyhood's heart; +and he did not include it in his dreams of +pre-existence.</p> + +<p>"It is such semblance of good fellowship, +such a wearisome pretence of good wishes +that mean nothing," he said one day. "What +value is there in such talk?"</p> + +<p>"Well," answered the squire, "it isn't a bad +thing for some of us to feel obliged once in a +<a name="Page_172" id="Page_172"></a>twelve months to be good-natured, and give +our neighbors a kind wish. There are them +that never do it except at Christmas. Eh? +What?"</p> + +<p>"Such wishes mean nothing."</p> + +<p>"Nay, now, there is no need to think that +kind words are false words. There is a deal of +good sometimes in a mouthful of words. Eh? +What?"</p> + +<p>"And yet, sir, as the queen of the crocodiles +remarked, 'Words mend none of the eggs that +are broken.'"</p> + +<p>"I know nothing about the queen of the crocodiles. +But if you don't believe in words, +Julius, it is quite allowable at Christmas time +to put your good words into any substantial +form you like. Nobody will doubt a good wish +that is father to a handsome gift; so, if you +don't believe in good words, you have a very +reliable substitute in good deeds. I saw how +you looked when I said 'A merry Christmas' +to old Simon Gills, and you had to say the +words after me. Very well; send old Simon a +new plaid or a pound of tobacco, and he'll believe +in your wish, and you'll believe in yourself. +Eh? What?"</p><p><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173"></a></p> + +<p>The days were full of such strained conversations +on various topics. Harry could say +nothing which Julius did not politely challenge +by some doubtful inquiry. Julius felt in every +word and action of Harry's the authority of +the heir, and the forbearance of a host tolerant +to a guest. He complained bitterly to Sophia +of the position in which he was constantly put. +"Your father and brother have been examining +timber, and looking at the out-houses this morning, +and I understand they were discussing +the building of a conservatory for Charlotte; +but I was left out of the conversation entirely. +Is it fair, Sophia? You and I are the next +heirs, and just as likely to inherit as Harry. +More so, I may say, for a soldier's life is +already sold, and Harry is reckless and dissipated +as well. I think I ought to have been +consulted. I should not be in favor of thinning +the timber. I dare say it is done to pay +Harry's bills; and thus, you see, it may really +be we who are made to suffer. I don't think +your father likes our marriage, dear one."</p> + +<p>"But he gave his consent, beloved."</p> + +<p>"I was very dissatisfied with his way of doing +it. He might as well have said, 'If it has +<a name="Page_174" id="Page_174"></a>to be, it has to be; and there is no use fretting +about it.' I may be wrong, but that is the impression +his consent left on my mind. And he +was quite unreasonable when I alluded to +money matters. I would not have believed +that your father was capable of being so disagreeably +haughty. Of course, I expected him +to say something about our rights, failing +Harry's, and he treated them as if they did not +exist. Even when I introduced them in the +most delicate way, he was what I call downright +rude. 'Julius,' he said, 'I will not discuss +any future that pre-supposes Harry's death.'"</p> + +<p>"Father's sun rises and sets in Harry, and it +was like him to speak that way; he meant +nothing against us. Father would always do +right. What I feel most is the refusal to give +us our own apartments in Seat-Sandal. We do +not want to live here all the time, but we ought +to be able to feel that we have a certain home +here."</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed. It is very important in my +eyes to keep a footing in the house. Possession +is a kind of right. But never mind, +Sophia. I have always had an impression that +this was my home. The first moment I +<a name="Page_175" id="Page_175"></a>crossed the threshold I felt it. All its rooms +were familiar to me. People do not have such +presentiments for nothing."</p> + +<p>There is a class of lovers who find their +supremest pleasure in isolating themselves; +who consider their own affairs an oasis of delight, +and make it desert all around them. +Julius and Sophia belonged to it. They really +enjoyed the idea that they were being badly +used. They talked over the squire's injustice, +Mrs. Sandal's indifference to every one but +Harry, and Charlotte's envy, until they had +persuaded themselves that they were the only +respectable and intelligent members of the +family. Naturally Sophia's nature deteriorated +under this isolating process. She grew secretive +and suspicious. Her love-affairs assumed +a proportion which put her in false relations to +all the rest of the world.</p> + +<p>It was unfortunate that they had come to +a crisis during Harry's visit, for of course +Harry occupied a large share of every one's +interest. The squire took the opportunity to +talk over the affairs of the estate with him, and +this was not a kind of conversation they felt +inclined to make general. It took them long +<a name="Page_176" id="Page_176"></a>solitary walks to the different "folds," and +several times as far as Kendal together. "Am +I one of the family, or am I not?" Julius +would ask Sophia on such occasions; and then +the discussion of this question separated them +from it, sometimes for hours at a time.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Sandal hardly perceived the growth of +this domestic antagonism. When Harry was +at Seat-Sandal, she lived and moved and had +her being in Harry. His food and drink, and +the multitude of his small comforts; his friends +and amusements; the renovation of his linen +and hosiery; his hopes and fears, and his +promotion or marriage, were enough to fill the +mother's heart. She was by no means oblivious +of Sophia's new interests, she only +thought that they could be put aside until +Harry's short visit was over; and Charlotte's +sympathies were also with Harry. "Julius +and Sophia do not want them, mother," she +said, "they are sufficient unto themselves. If +I enter a room pre-occupied by them, Sophia +sits silent over her work, with a look of injury +on her face; and Julius walks about, and kicks +the stools out of his way, and simply 'looks' +me out of their presence."</p><p><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177"></a></p> + +<p>After such an expulsion one morning, she +put on her bonnet and mantle, and went into +the park. She was hot and trembling with +anger, and her eyes were misty with tears. In +the main walk she met Harry. He was smoking, +and pacing slowly up and down under the +bare branches of the oaks. For a moment he +also seemed annoyed at her intrusion on his +solitude; but the next one he had tucked +her arm through his own, and was looking +with brotherly sympathy into her flushed and +troubled face. This morning Charlotte felt it +to be a great comfort to complain to him, +to even cry a little over the breaking of the +family bond, and the loss of her sister's affection.</p> + +<p>"I have always been so proud of Sophia, +always given up to her in every thing. When +grandmother showed me the sapphire necklace, +and said she was going to leave it to me +because she loved me best, I begged her not +to slight Sophia in such a way as that,—Sophia +being the elder, you know, Harry. I +cried about it until she was almost angry with +me. Julius offered his hand to me first; and +though I claim no merit for giving up what I +<a name="Page_178" id="Page_178"></a>do not want, yet, all the same, if I had wanted +him I should have refused, because I saw that +Sophia had set her heart upon him. I should +indeed, Harry."</p> + +<p>"I believe you would, Charlotte."</p> + +<p>"And somehow Julius manages to give me +the feeling that I am only in Seat-Sandal on +his tolerance. Many a time a day I have to +tell myself that father is still alive, and that I +have a right in my own home. I do not know +how he manages to make me feel so."</p> + +<p>"In the same way that he conveys to me +the impression that I shall never be squire of +Sandal-Side. He has doomed me to death in +his own mind; and I believe if I had to live +with him, I should feel constrained to go and +shoot myself."</p> + +<p>"I would come home, and get married, +Harry. There will be room enough and welcome +enough for your wife in Seat-Sandal, +especially if she be Emily."</p> + +<p>"She will not be Emily; for I love some +one else far away better,—millions of times +better than I love Emily."</p> + +<p>"I am so glad, Harry. Have you told +father?"</p><p><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179"></a></p> + +<p>"Not yet. I do not think he will be glad, +Charlotte."</p> + +<p>"But why?"</p> + +<p>"There are many reasons."</p> + +<p>"Such as?"</p> + +<p>"She is poor."</p> + +<p>"Oh! that is bad, Harry; because I know +that we are not rich. But she is not your +inferior? I mean she is not uneducated or +unladylike?"</p> + +<p>"She is highly educated, and in all England +there is not a more perfect lady."</p> + +<p>"Then I can see no reason to think father +will not be pleased. I am sure, Harry, that I +shall love your wife. Oh, yes! I shall love her +very dearly."</p> + +<p>Then Harry pressed her arm close to his +side, and looked lovingly down into her bright, +earnest face. There was no need of speech. +In a glance their souls touched each other.</p> + +<p>"And so he asked you first, eh, Charley?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"And you would not have him? What for +Charley?"</p> + +<p>"I did not like Julius, and I did like some +one else."</p><p><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180"></a></p> + +<p>"Oh! Oh! Who is the some one else?"</p> + +<p>"Guess, Harry. He is very like you, very: +fair and tall, with clear, candid, happy blue +eyes; and brown hair curling close over his +head. In the folds and in the fields he is a +master. His heart is gentle to all, and full of +love for me. He has spirit, dint,<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> ambition, +enterprise; and can work twenty hours out of +the twenty-four to carry out his own plans. +He is a right good fellow, Harry."</p> + +<p>"A North-country man?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly. Do you think I would marry a +stranger?"</p> + +<p>"Cumberland born?"</p> + +<p>"Who else?"</p> + +<p>"Then it is Steve Latrigg, eh? Well, Charley, +you might go farther, and fare worse. I +don't think he is worthy of you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but I do!"</p> + +<p>"Very few men are worthy of you."</p> + +<p>"Only Steve. I want you to like Steve. +Harry."</p> + +<p>"Certainly. Seat-Sandal folks and Up-Hill +folks are always thick friends. And Steve and +I were boy chums. He is a fine fellow, and no +<a name="Page_181" id="Page_181"></a>mistake. I am glad he is to be my brother. +I asked mother about him; and she said he was +in Yorkshire, learning how to spin and weave +wool—a queer thing, Charley."</p> + +<p>"Not at all. He may just as well spin his +own fleeces as sell them to Yorkshiremen to +spin." Then they talked awhile of Stephen's +plans, and Harry appeared to be much impressed +with them. "It is a pity father does +not join him, Charley," he said. "Every one +is doing something of the kind now. Land and +sheep do not make money fast enough for the +wants of our present life. The income of the +estate is no larger than it was in grandfather's +time; but the expenses are much greater, +although we do not keep up the same extravagant +style. I need money, too, need it very +much; but I see plainly that father has none to +spare. Julius will press him very close."</p> + +<p>"What has Julius to do with father's +money?"</p> + +<p>"Father must, in honor, pay Sophia's portion. +Unfortunately, when the fellow was here +last, father told him that he had put away from +the estate one hundred pounds a year for each +of his girls. Under this promise, Sophia's +<a name="Page_182" id="Page_182"></a>right with interest will be near three thousand +pounds, exclusive of her share in the money +grandmother left you. I am sorry to say that +I have had something to do with making it +hard for father to meet these obligations. And +Julius wants the money paid at the marriage. +Father, too, feels very much as I feel, and +would rather throw it into the sea than give it +to him; only <i>noblesse oblige</i>."</p> + +<p>The subject evidently irritated Harry beyond +endurance, and he suddenly changed it by taking +from his pocket an ivory miniature. He gave +it to Charlotte, and watched her face with a +glow of pleasant expectation. "Why, Harry!" +she cried, "does so lovely a woman really +exist?"</p> + +<p>He nodded happily, and answered in a voice +full of emotion, "And she loves me."</p> + +<p>"It is the countenance of an angel."</p> + +<p>"And she loves me. I am not worthy to +touch the hem of her garment, Charley, but +she loves me." Then Charlotte lifted the pictured +face to her lips. Their confidence was +complete; and they did not think it necessary +to talk it over, or to exact promises of secrecy +from each other.</p><p><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183"></a></p> + +<p>The next day Harry returned to his regiment, +and Sophia's affairs began to receive the +attention which their important crisis demanded. +In those days it was customary for +girls to make their own wedding outfit, and +there was no sewing-machine to help them. +"Mine is the first marriage in the family," +Sophia said, "and I think there ought to be a +great deal of interest felt in it." And there +was. Grandmother Sandal's awmries were +opened for old laces and fine cambric, and petticoats +and spencers of silks wonderful in quality +and color, and guiltless of any admixture of +less precious material. There were whole sets +of many garments to make, and tucking and +frilling and stitching were then slow processes. +Agnes Bulteel came to assist; but the work +promised to be so tedious, that the marriage-day +was postponed until July.</p> + +<p>In the mean time, Julius spent his time between +Oxford and Sandal-Side. Every visit +was distinguished by some rich or rare gift to +his bride, and he always felt a pleasure in assuring +himself that Charlotte was consumed +with envy and regret. He was very much in +love with Sophia, and quite glad she was going +<a name="Page_184" id="Page_184"></a>to marry him; and yet he dearly liked to think +that he made Charlotte sorry for her rejection +of his love, and wistfully anxious for the rings +and bracelets that were the portion of his betrothed. +Sophia soon found out that this idea +flattered and pleased him, and it gave her neither +shame nor regret to indorse it. She loved +no one but Julius, and she made a kind of +merit in giving up every one for him. The +sentiment sounded rather well; but it was really +an intense selfishness, wearing the mask +of unselfishness. She did not reflect that the +daily love and duty due to others cannot be +sinlessly withheld, or given to some object of +our own particular choice, or that such a selfish +idolatry is a domestic crime.</p> + +<p>It was a very unhappy time to Charlotte. +Her mother was weary with many unusual +cares, her father more silent and depressed +than she had ever before seen him. The +sunny serenity of her happy home was disturbed +by a multitude of new elements, for an +atmosphere of constant expectation gave a +restless tone to its usual placid routine. And +through all and below all, there was that feeling +of money perplexity, which, where, it exists, +<a name="Page_185" id="Page_185"></a>is no more to be hid than the subtle odor +of musk, present though unseen.</p> + +<p>This year the white winter appeared to Charlotte +interminable in length. The days in +which it was impossible to go out, full of +Sophia's sewing and little worries and ostentations; +the windy, tempestuous nights, that +swept the gathering drifts away; the cloudless +moonlight nights, full of that awful, breathless +quiet that broods in land-locked dales,—all of +them, and all of Nature's moods, had become +inexpressibly, monotonously wearisome before +the change came. But one morning at the end +of March, there was a great west wind charged +with heavy rains, and in a few hours the snow +on all the fells had been turned into rushing +floods, that came roaring down from every side +into the valley.</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<span class="i11">"Oh, wind!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If winter comes, can spring be far behind?"<br /></span> +</div> + + +<p>quoted Charlotte, as she stood watching the +white cascades.</p> + +<p>"It will be cuckoo time directly my dear; +and the lambs will be bleating on the fells, and +the yellow primroses blowing under all the +hedges. I want to see the swallows take the +<a name="Page_186" id="Page_186"></a>storm on their wings badly this year. Eh? +What, Charlotte?"</p> + +<p>"So do I, father. I never was so tired of +the house before."</p> + +<p>"There's a bit of a difference lately, I think. +Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>Charlotte looked at him; there was no need +to speak. They both understood and felt the +full misery of household changes that are not +entirely happy ones; changes that bring unfaithfulness +and ingratitude on one side, and +resentful, wounded love on the other. And +the worst of it all was, that it might have +been so different. Why had the lovers set +themselves apart from the family, had secrets +and consultations and interests they refused to +share? How had it happened that Sophia had +come to consider her welfare as apart from, +and in opposition to, that of the general welfare +of Seat-Sandal? And when this feeling +existed, it seemed unjust to Charlotte that +they should still expect the whole house and +household to be kept in turmoil for the +furtherance of their plans, and that every +one should be made to contribute to their +happiness.</p><p><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187"></a></p> + +<p>"After all, maybe it is a bit natural," said +the squire with a sad air of apology. "I have +noticed even the robins get angry if you watch +them building their nests."</p> + +<p>"But they, at least, build their own nest, +father. The cock-robin does not go to his +parents, and the hen robin to her parents, and +say, 'Give us all the straw you can, and put +it down at the foot of our tree; but don't +dare to peep into the branches, or offer us any +suggestions about the nest, or expect to have +an opinion about our housekeeping.' Selfishness +spoils every thing, father. I think if a +rose could be selfish it would be hideous."</p> + +<p>"I don't think a lover would make my +Charlotte forget her father and mother, and +feel contempt for her home, and all in and +about it that she does not want for herself. +Why, a stranger would think that Sophia was +never loved by any human heart before! They +would think that she never had been happy +before. Nay, then, she sets more store by the +few nick-nacks Julius has given her than all +I have bought her for twenty years. When +yonder last bracelet came, she went on as if +she had never seen aught of the kind in all +<a name="Page_188" id="Page_188"></a>her born days. Yet I have bought her one or +two that cost more money, and happen more +love, than it did. Eh? What, Charlotte?"</p> + +<p>There were two large tears standing in his +blue eyes, and two sprang into Charlotte's to +meet them. She clasped his hand tight, and +after a minute's silence said,—</p> + +<p>"I have a lover, father; the best a girl ever +had. Has he made any difference between you +and me? Only that I love you better. You +are my first love; the very first creature I +remember, father. One summer day you had +me in your arms in the garden. I recollect +looking at you and knowing you. I think it +was at that moment my soul found me."</p> + +<p>"It was on a summer day, Charlotte? Eh? +What?"</p> + +<p>"And the garden was all roses, father; red +with roses,—roses full of scent. I can smell +them yet. The sunshine, the roses, the sweet +air, your face,—I shall never, never forget +that moment, father."</p> + +<p>"Nor I. I was a very happy man in those +days, Charlotte. Young and happy, and full +of hope. I thought my children were some +new make of children. I could not have +<a name="Page_189" id="Page_189"></a>believed then, that they would ever give me +a heartache, or have one themselves. And I +had not a care. Money was very easy with +me then: now it is middling hard to bring +buckle and tongue together."</p> + +<p>"When Sophia is married, we can begin +and save a little. Mother and you and I can +be happy without extravagances."</p> + +<p>"To be sure, we can; but the trouble is, +my saving will be the losing of all I have to +send away. It is very hard, Charlotte, to do +right at both ends. Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>After this conversation, spring came on +rapidly, and it was not long ere Charlotte +managed to reach Up-Hill. She had not seen +Ducie for several weeks, and she was longing +to hear something of Stephen. "But if ill +had come, ill would have cried out, and I +would have heard tell;" she thought, as she +picked her way among the stones and <i>débris</i> +of the winter storms. The country was yet +bare; the trees had no leaves, no nests, no +secrets; but she could see the sap running +into the branches, making them dark red, +scarlet, or yellow as rods of gold. Higher up, +the pines, always green, took her into their +<a name="Page_190" id="Page_190"></a>shade; into their calm spirit of unchangeableness, +their equal light, their keen aromatic air. +Then came the bare fell, and the raw north +wind, and the low gray house, stretching itself +under the leafless, outspreading limbs of the +sycamores.</p> + +<p>In the valley, there had been many wild flowers,—tufts +of violets and early primroses,—and +even at Up Hill the blackthorn's stiff boughs +were covered with tiny white buds, and here and +there an open blossom. Ducie was in the +garden at work; and as Charlotte crossed the +steps in its stone wall she lifted her head, and +saw her. Their meeting was free from all demonstration; +only a smile, and a word or two of +welcome, and yet how conscious of affection! +How satisfied both women were! Ducie went +on with her task, and Charlotte stood by her +side, and watched her drop the brown seeds +into the damp, rich earth; watched her clip +the box-borders, and loosen the soil about the +springing crocus bulbs. Here and there tufts +of snowdrops were in full bloom,—white, frail +bells, looking as if they had known only cheerless +hours and cold sunbeams, and wept and +shrank and feared through them.</p><p><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191"></a></p> + +<p>As they went into the house, Ducie gathered +a few; but at the threshhold, Charlotte turned, +and saw them in her hand. A little fear and +annoyance came into her face. "You a North-country +woman, Ducie," she said, "and yet +going to bring snowdrops across the doorstone? +I would not have believed such a thing of +you. Leave them outside the porch. Be said, +now."</p> + +<p>"It seems such a thing to think of flowers +that way,—making them signs of sorrow."</p> + +<p>"You know what you said about your father +and the plant,—'Death-come-quickly.' I have +heard snowdrops called 'flowers from dead-men's +dale.' Look at them. They are like +a shrouded corpse. They keep their heads +always turned down to the grave. It is ill-luck +to bring them where there is life and love and +warmth. It will do you no harm to mind me; +so be said, Ducie. Besides, I wouldn't pull +them anyway. There was little Grace Lewthwaite, +she was always gathering the poor, innocent +flowers just to fling them on the dusty +road to be trodden and trampled to pieces; +well, before she was twelve years old, she faded +away too. Perhaps even the prayers of mangled +<a name="Page_192" id="Page_192"></a>flowers may be heard by the merciful +Creator."</p> + +<p>"You do give me such turns, Charlotte." +But who ever reasons with a superstition? +Ducie simply obeyed Charlotte's wish, and laid +the pallid blooms almost remorsefully back +upon the earth from which she had taken them. +A strange melancholy filled her heart; although +the servants were busy all around, and everywhere +she heard the good-natured laugh, the +thoughtless whistle, or the songs of hearts at +ease.</p> + +<p>When she entered the houseplace she put +the bright kettle on the hob, and took out her +silver teapot and her best cups of lovely crown +Derby. And as she moved about in her quiet, +hospitable way they began to talk of Stephen. +"Was he well?"—"Yes, he was well, but +there were things that might be better. I +thought when he went to Bradford," continued +Ducie, "that he would at least be learning +something that he might be the better of in +the long end; and that in a mill he would over-get +his notions about sheepskins being spun +into golden fleeces. But he doesn't seem to +get any new light that way, and Up-Hill is not +<a name="Page_193" id="Page_193"></a>doing well without him. Fold and farm are +needing the master's eye and hand; and it will +be a poor lambing season for us, I think, wanting +Steve. And, deary me, Charlotte, one word +from you would bring him home!"</p> + +<p>Charlotte stooped, and lifted the tortoise-shell +cat, lying on the rug at her feet. She was not +fond of cats, and she was only attentive to puss +as the best means of hiding her blushes. Ducie +understood the small, womanly ruse, and +waited no other answer. "What is the matter +with the squire, Charlotte? Does he think that +Stephen isn't good enough to marry you? I'll +not say that Latrigg evens Sandal in all things, +but I will say that there are very few families +that can even Latrigg. We have been without +reproach,—good women, honest men; not afraid +of any face of clay, though it wore a crown +above it."</p> + +<p>"Dear Ducie, there is no question at all of +that. The trouble arose about Julius Sandal. +Father was determined that I or Sophia should +marry him, and he was afraid of Steve standing +in the way of Julius. As for myself, I felt +as if Julius had been invited to Seat-Sandal +that he might make his choice of us; and I +<a name="Page_194" id="Page_194"></a>took good care that he should understand from +the first hour that I was not on his approbation. +I resented the position on my own account, and +I did not intend Stephen to feel that he was +only getting a girl who had been appraised by +Julius Sandal, and declined."</p> + +<p>"You are a good girl, Charlotte; and as for +Steve standing in the way of Julius Sandal, he +will, perhaps, do that yet, and to some more +purpose than sweet-hearting. I hear tell that +he is very rich; but Steve is not poor,—no, not +by a good deal. His grandfather and I have +been saving for him more than twenty years, +and Steve is one to turn his penny well and +often. If you marry Steve, you will not have +to study about money matters."</p> + +<p>"Poor or rich, I shall marry Steve if he is +true to me."</p> + +<p>"There is another thing, Charlotte, a thing +I talk about to no one; but we will speak +of it once and forever. Have you heard a +word about Steve's father? My trouble is +long dead and buried, but there are some that +will open the grave itself for a mouthful of +scandal. What have you heard? Don't be +afraid to speak out."</p><p><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195"></a></p> + +<p>"I heard that you ran away with Steve's +father."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I did."</p> + +<p>"That your father and mother opposed your +marriage very much."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that also is true."</p> + +<p>"That he was a handsome lad, called Matt +Pattison, your father's head shepherd."</p> + +<p>"Was that all?"</p> + +<p>"That it killed your mother."</p> + +<p>"No, that is untrue. Mother died from an +inflammation brought on by taking cold. I was +no-ways to blame for her death. I was to +blame for running away from my home and +duty, and I took in full all the sorrowful wage +I earned. Steve's father did not live to see +his son; and when I heard of mother's death, +I determined to go back to father, and stay +with him always if he would let me. I got +to Sandal village in the evening, and stayed +with Nancy Bell all night. In the morning I +went up the fell; it was a wet, cold morning, +with gusts of wind driving the showers like a +solid sheet eastward. We had a hard fight up +the breast of the mountain; and the house +looked bleak and desolate, for the men were +<a name="Page_196" id="Page_196"></a>all in the barn threshing, and the women in +the kitchen at the butter-troughs. I stood +in the porch to catch my breath, and take my +plaid from around the child; and I heard father +in a loud, solemn voice saying the Collect,—father +always spoke in that way when he was +saying the Confession or the Collect,—and I +knew very well that he would be standing at +that east window, with his prayer-book open +on the sill. So I waited until I heard the +'Amen,' and then I lifted the latch and went +in. He turned around and faced me; and his +eyes fell at once upon little Steve, who was a +bonny lad then, more than three years old. 'I +have come back to you, father,' I said, 'I and +my little Steve.'—'Where is thy husband?' +he asked. I said, 'He is in the grave. I did +wrong, and I am sorry, father."</p> + +<p>"'Then I forgive thee.' That was all he +said. His eyes were fixed upon Steve, for +he never had a son of his own; and he held +out his hands, and Steve went straight to him; +and he lifted the boy, and kissed him again and +again, and from that moment he loved him +with all his soul. He never cast up to me the +wrong I had done; and by and by I told him +<a name="Page_197" id="Page_197"></a>all that had happened to me, and we never +more had a secret between us, but worked +together for one end; and what that end was, +some day you may find out. I wish you would +write a word or two to Steve. A word would +bring him home, dear."</p> + +<p>"But I cannot write it, Ducie. I promised +father there should be no love-making between +us, and I would not break a word that father +trusts in. Besides, Stephen is too proud and +too honorable to have any underhand courting. +When he can walk in and out Seat-Sandal in +dayshine and in dark, and as every one's +equal, he will come to see me. Until then we +can trust each other and wait."</p> + +<p>"What does the squire think of Steve's +plans? Maybe, now, they are not very pleasant +to him. I remember at the sheep-shearing he +did not say very much."</p> + +<p>"He did not say very much because he +never thought that Steve was in earnest. +Father does not like changes, and you know +how land-owners regard traders. And I'm sure +you wouldn't even one of our shepherd-lads +with a man that minds a loom. The brave +fellows, travelling the mountain-tops in the +<a name="Page_198" id="Page_198"></a>fiercest storms to fold the sheep, or seek some +stray or weakly lamb, are very different from +the lank, white-faced mannikins all finger-ends +for a bit of machinery; aren't they, Ducie? +And I would far rather see Steve counting his +flocks on the fells than his spinning-jennys in +a mill. Father was troubled about the railway +coming to Ambleside, and I do think a factory +in Sandal-Side would make him heart-sick."</p> + +<p>"Then Steve shall never build one while +Sandal lives. Do you think I would have the +squire made heart-sick if I could make him +heart-whole? Not for all the woollen yarn in +England. Tell him Ducie said so. The +squire and I are old, old friends. Why, we +pulled primroses together in the very meadow +Steve thought of building in! I'm not the +woman to put a mill before a friend, oh, no! +And in the long end I think you are right, +Charlotte. A man had better work among +sheep than among human beings. They are +a deal more peaceable and easy to get on +with. It is not so very hard for a shepherd to +be a good man."</p> + +<p>"You speak as I like to hear you, Ducie; +but I must be going, for a deal falls to my +<a name="Page_199" id="Page_199"></a>oversight now." And she rose quickly from +the tea-table, and as she tied on her bonnet, +began to sing,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'God bless the sheep upon the fells!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, do you hear the tinkling bells<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of sheep that wander on the fells?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The tinkling bells the silence fills,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sings cheerily the soul that wills;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God bless the shepherd on the hills!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">God bless the sheep! Their tinkling bells<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Make music over all the fells;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By <i>force</i> and <i>gill</i> and <i>tarn</i> it swells,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And this is what their music tells:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God bless the sheep upon the fells.'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The melody was wild and simple, a little +plaintive also; and Charlotte sang it with a low, +sweet monotony that recalled, one knew not +how or why, the cool fragrance of the hillside, +and the scent of wild flowers by running +water.</p> + +<p>Then she went slowly home, Ducie walking +to the pine-wood with her. There was a vague +unrest and fear at her heart, she knew not +why; for who can tell whence spring their +thoughts, or what mover first starts them from +<a name="Page_200" id="Page_200"></a>their secret lodging-place? A sadness she +could not fight down took possession of her; +and it annoyed her the more, because she +found every one pleasantly excited over a box +of presents that had just arrived from India for +Sophia. She knew that her depression would +be interpreted by some as envy and jealousy, +and she resented the false position it put her +in; and yet she found it impossible to affect +the enthusiasm which was expected from her +over the Cashmere shawl and scarfs, the Indian +fans and jewelry, the carved ivory trinkets, +the boxes full of Eastern scents,—sandalwood +and calamus, nard and attar of roses, and +pungent gums that made the old "Seat" feel +like a little bit of Asia.</p> + +<p>In a few days Julius followed; he came to +see the presents, and to read, with personal +illustrations and comments, the letters that had +accompanied them. Sophia's ideas of her own +importance grew constantly more pronounced; +indeed, there was a certain amount of "claim" +in them, which no one liked very well to submit +to. And yet it was difficult to resist demands +enforced by such remarks as, "It is the last +time I shall ask for such a thing;" "One expects +<a name="Page_201" id="Page_201"></a>their own people to take a little interest +in their marriage;" "I am sure Julius and <i>his</i> +family have done all <i>they</i> can;" "They seem +to understand what a girl must feel and like at +such an eventful time of her life," and so on, +and so on, in variations suited to the circumstances +or the occasion.</p> + +<p>Every one was worn out before July, and +every one felt it to be a relief when the wedding-day +came. It was ushered in with the +chiming of bells, and the singing of bride-songs +by the village children. The village itself +was turned upside down, and the house +inside out. As for the gloomy old church, it +looked like a festal place, with flowers and gay +clothing and smiling faces. It was the express +wish of Sophia that none of the company +should wear white. "That distinction," she +said, "ought to be reserved for the bride;" +and among the maids in pink and blue and +primrose, she stood a very lily of womanhood. +Her diaphanous, floating robe of Dacca muslin; +her Indian veil of silver tissue, filmy as light; +her gleaming pearls and feathery fan, made her</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"A sight to dream of, not to tell."</p></div><p><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202"></a></p> + +<p>The service was followed by the conventional +wedding-breakfast; the congratulations of +friends, and the rattling away of the bridal-carriage +to the "hurrahing" of the servants and +the villagers; and the <i>tin-tin-tabula</i> of the wedding-peals. +Before four o'clock the last guest +had departed, and the squire stood with his +wife and Charlotte weary and disconsolate +amid the remains of the feast and the dying +flowers; all of them distinctly sensitive to that +mournful air which accomplished pleasures +leave behind them.</p> + +<p>The squire could say nothing to dispel it. +He took his rod as an excuse for solitude, and +went off to the fells. Mrs. Sandal was crying +with exhaustion, and was easily persuaded to +go to her room, and sleep. Then Charlotte +called the servants, men and women, and removed +every trace of the ceremony, and all +that was unusual or extravagant. She set the +simplest of meals; she managed in some way, +without a word, to give the worried squire the +assurance that all the folly and waste and +hurryment were over for ever; and that his life +was to fall back into a calm, regular, economical +groove.</p><p><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203"></a></p> + +<p>He drank his tea and smoked his pipe to +this sense, and was happier than he had been +for many a week.</p> + +<p>"It is a middling good thing, Alice," he +said, "that we have only one more daughter to +marry. I should think a matter of three or +four would ruin or kill a man, let alone a +mother. Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>"That is the blessed truth, William. And +yet it is the pride of my heart to say that there +never was such a bride or such a bridal in Sandal-Side +before. Still, I am tired, and I feel +just as if I had had a trouble. Come day, go +day; at the long end, life is no better than the +preacher called it—<i>vanity</i>."</p> + +<p>"To be sure it is not. We laugh at a wedding, +we cry at a burying, a christening +brings us a feast. On the Sabbath we say our +litany; and as for the rest of the year, one day +marrows another."</p> + +<p>"Well, well, William Sandal! Maybe we +will both feel better after a night's sleep. To-morrow +is untouched."</p> + +<p>And the squire, looking into her pale, placid +face, had not the heart to speak out his +thought, which was, "Nay, nay; we have +<a name="Page_204" id="Page_204"></a>mortgaged to-morrow. Debt and fear, and the +penalties of over-work and over-eating and over-feeling, +will be dogging us for their dues by +dayshine."</p><p><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205"></a></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> + +<h3>THE ENEMY IN THE HOUSEHOLD.</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"><p> +"There is a method in man's wickedness,<br /> +It grows up by degrees."</p> + +<p>"How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is<br /> +To have a thankless child!"</p><br /></div> + + + +<p>After the wedding, there were some +weeks of that peaceful monotony which +is the happiest vehicle for daily life,—weeks +so uniform that Charlotte remembered their +events as little as she did their particular +weather. The only circumstance that cast any +shadow over them related to Harry. His behavior +had been somewhat remarkable, and the +hope that time would explain it had not been +realized at the end of August.</p> + +<p>About three weeks before Sophia's marriage, +Harry suddenly wrote to say that he had +obtained a three months' furlough, in order to +go to Italy with a sick friend. This letter, so +utterly unexpected, caused some heart-burning +<a name="Page_206" id="Page_206"></a>and disappointment. Sophia had calculated +upon Harry's fine appearance and splendid +uniform as a distinct addition to her wedding +spectacle. She also felt that the whole neighborhood +would be speculating upon the cause +of his absence, and very likely infer from it +that he disapproved of Julius; and the bare +suspicion of such a slight made her indignant.</p> + +<p>Julius considered this to be the true state of +the case, though he promised himself "to find +out all about Mr. Harry's affairs" as soon as +he had the leisure and opportunity.</p> + +<p>"The idea of Harry going as sick-nurse with +any friend or comrade is absurd, Sophia. However, +we can easily take Florence into our +wedding-trip, only we must not let Charlotte +know of our intention. Charlotte is against +us, Sophia; and you may depend upon it, +Harry meant to insult us by his absence."</p> + +<p>Insult or not to the bride and bridegroom, +it was a great disappointment to Mrs. Sandal. +To see, to speak to Harry was always a sure +delight to her. The squire loved and yet +feared his visits. Harry always needed money; +and lately his father had begun to understand, +and for the first time in his life, what a many-sided +<a name="Page_207" id="Page_207"></a>need it was. To go to his secretary, and +to find no gold pieces in its cash-drawer; and to +his bank-book, and find no surplus credit there, +gave the squire a feeling of blank amazement +and heart-sick perplexity. He felt that such a +change as that might prefigure other changes +still more painful and frightsome.</p> + +<p>Charlotte inclined to the same opinion as +Julius, regarding her brother's sudden flight to +Florence. She concluded that he had felt it +impossible to congratulate his sister, or to simulate +any fraternal regard for Julius; and her +knowledge of facts made her read for "sick +friend" "fair friend." It was, indeed, very likely +that the beautiful girl, whose likeness Harry +carried so near his heart, had gone to Florence; +and that he had moved heaven and earth +to follow her there. And when his own love-affairs +were pressing and important, how was it +likely that he could care for those of Julius and +Sophia?</p> + +<p>So, at intervals, they wondered a little about +Harry's peculiar movement, and tried hard to +find something definite below the surface words +of his short letters. Otherwise, a great peace +had settled over Seat-Sandal. Its hall-doors +<a name="Page_208" id="Page_208"></a>stood open all day long, and the August sunshine +and the garden scents drifted in with the +lights and shadows. Life had settled down +into such simple ways, that it seemed to be +always at rest. The hours went and came, and +brought with them their little measure of duty +and pleasure, both so usual and easy, that they +took nothing from the feelings or the strength, +and gave an infinite sense of peace and contentment.</p> + +<p>One August evening they were in the garden; +there had been several hot, clear days, +and the harvesters were making the most of +every hour. The squire had been in the field +until near sunset, and now he was watching +anxiously for the last wain. "We have the +earliest shearing in Sandal-Side," he said. +"The sickle has not been in the upper meadows +yet, and if they finish to-night it will be a good +thing. It's a fine moon for work. <i>A fine moon, +God bless her</i>! Hark! There is the song I +have been waiting for, and all's well, Charlotte." +And they stood still to listen to the +rumble of the wagon, and the rude, hearty +chant that at intervals accompanied it:—</p><p><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209"></a></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Blest be the day that Christ was born!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The last sheaf of Sandal corn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is well bound, and better shorn.<br /></span> +<span class="i9">Hip, hip, hurrah!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"Good-evening, squire." The speaker had +come quickly around one of the garden hedges, +and his voice seemed to fall out of mid-air. +Charlotte turned, with eyes full of light, and a +flush of color that made her exceedingly handsome.</p> + +<p>"Well-a-mercy! Good-evening, Stephen. +When did you get home? Nobody had heard +tell. Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>"I came this afternoon, squire; and as there +is a favor you can do us, I thought I would +ask it at once."</p> + +<p>"Surely, Stephen. What can I do? Eh? +What?"</p> + +<p>"I hear your harvest is home. Can you +spare us a couple of men? The wheat in Low +Barra fields is ready for the sickle."</p> + +<p>"Three men, four, if you want them. You +cannot have too many sickles. Cut wheat while +the sun shines. Eh? What? How is the lady +at Up-Hill?"</p> + +<p>"Mother is middling well, I'm obliged to +<a name="Page_210" id="Page_210"></a>you. I think she has failed though, since +grandfather died."</p> + +<p>"It is likely. She has been too much by +herself. You should stay at home, Stephen +Latrigg. A man's duty is more often there +than anywhere else. Eh?"</p> + +<p>"I think you are right now, squire." And +then he blundered into the very statement that +he ought to have let alone. "And I am not +going to build the mill, squire,—not yet, at +least. I would not do any thing to annoy you +for the world."</p> + +<p>The information was pleasant to Sandal; but +he had already heard it, in its least offensive +way, through Ducie and Charlotte. Steve's +broad relinquishment demanded some acknowledgment, +and appeared to put him under an +obligation which he did not feel he had any +right to acknowledge. He considered the +building of a mill so near his own property a +great social wrong, and why should he thank +Stephen Latrigg for not committing it?</p> + +<p>So he answered coldly, "You must take your +own way, Stephen. I am an old man. I have +had my say in my generation, maybe I haven't +any right to meddle with yours. New men, +<a name="Page_211" id="Page_211"></a>new times." Then being conscious that he was +a little ungenerous he walked off to Mrs. Sandal, +and left the lovers together. Steve would +have forgiven the squire a great deal more for +such an opportunity, especially as a still kinder +after-thought followed it. For he had not gone +far before he turned, and called back, "Bring +Steve into the house, Charlotte. He will stay, +and have a bit of supper with us, no doubt." +Perhaps the lovers made the way into the house +a little roundabout. But Sandal was not an +unjust man; and having given them the opportunity, +he did not blame them for taking it. +Besides he could trust Charlotte. Though the +heavens fell, he could trust Charlotte.</p> + +<p>During supper the conversation turned again +to Stephen's future plans. Whether the squire +liked to admit the fact or not, he was deeply +interested in them; and he listened carefully to +what the young man said.</p> + +<p>"If I am going to trust to sheep, squire, +then I may as well have plenty to trust to. I +think of buying the Penghyll 'walk,' and putting +a thousand on it."</p> + +<p>"My song, Stephen!"</p> + +<p>"I can manage them quite well. I shall get +<a name="Page_212" id="Page_212"></a>more shepherds, and there are new ways of +doing things that lighten labor very much. I +have been finding out all about them. I think +of taking three thousand fleeces, at the very +least, to Bradford next summer."</p> + +<p>"Two hundred years ago somebody thought +of harnessing a flock of wild geese for a trip to +the moon. They never could do it. Eh? +What?"</p> + +<p>Stephen laughed a little uncomfortably. +"That was nonsense, squire."</p> + +<p>"It was 'almighty youth,' Stephen. The +young think they can do every thing. In a +few years they do what they can and what +they may. It is a blessed truth that the mind +cannot stay long in a <i>bree</i>. It gets tired of +ballooning, and comes down to hands and feet +again. Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>"I think you mean kindly, squire."</p> + +<p>The confidence touched him. "I do, Steve. +Don't be in a hurry, my lad. There are some +things in life that are worth a deal more than +money,—things that money cannot buy. Let +money take a backward place." Then he voluntarily +asked about the processes of spinning +and weaving wool, and in spite of his prejudices +<a name="Page_213" id="Page_213"></a>was a little excited over Stephen's startling +statements and statistics.</p> + +<p>Indeed, the young man was so interesting, +that Sandal went with him to the hall-door, and +stood there with him, listening to his graphic +descriptions of the wool-rooms at the top of +the great Yorkshire mills. "I'd like well to +take you through one, squire. Fleeces? You +would be wonder-struck. There are long staple +and short staple; silky wool and woolly +wool; black fleeces from the Punjaub, and curly +white ones from Bombay; long warps from +Russia, short ones from Buenos Ayres; little +Spanish fleeces, and our own Westmoreland and +Cumberland skins, that beat every thing in the +world for size. And then to see them turned +into cloth as fast as steam can do it! My +word, squire, there never was magic or witchcraft +like the steam and metal witchcraft of a +Yorkshire mill."</p> + +<p>"Well, well, Steve. I don't fret myself because +I am set in stiller ways, and I don't +blame those who like the hurryment of steam +and metal. Each of us has God's will to do, +and our own race to run; and may we prosper."</p> + +<p>After this, Steve, sometimes gaining and +<a name="Page_214" id="Page_214"></a>sometimes losing, gradually won his way back +to the squire's liking. September proved to be +an unusually fair month; and to the lovers it +was full of happiness, for early in it their relation +to each other was fully recognized; and +Stephen had gone in and out of the pleasant +"Seat," dayshine and dark, as the acknowledged +lover of Charlotte Sandal. The squire, +upon the whole, submitted gracefully: he only +stipulated that for some time, indefinitely +postponed, the subject of marriage was not +to be taken into consideration. "I could not +bear it any road. I could not bear it yet, +Stephen. Wait your full time, and be glad to +wait. So few young men will understand that +to pluck the blossom is to destroy the fruit."</p> + +<p>Towards the end of September, there was a +letter from Sophia dated Florence. Some letters +are like some individuals, they carry with +them a certain unpleasant atmosphere. None +of Sophia's epistles had been very satisfactory; +for they were so short, and yet so definitely +pinned to Julius, that they were but commentaries +on that individual. At Paris she had simply +asked Julius, "What do <i>you</i> think of Paris?" +And the opinion of Julius was then given to<a name="Page_215" id="Page_215"></a> +Seat-Sandal confidently as the only correct estimate +that the world was likely to get. At +Venice, Rome, Naples, her plan was identical; +and any variation of detail simply referred to +the living at different places, and how Julius +liked it, and how it had agreed with him.</p> + +<p>So when the Florence letter came, there was +no particular enthusiasm about it. The address +assigned it to the squire, and he left it lying on +the table while he finished the broiled trout +and coffee before him. But it troubled Charlotte, +and she waited anxiously for the unpleasant +words she felt sure were inside of it. Yet +there was no change on the squire's face, and +no sign of annoyance, as he read it. "It is +about the usual thing, Alice. Julius likes +Florence. It is called 'the beautiful.' Julius +thinks that it deserves the title. The wine in +Rome did not suit Julius, but he finds the Florence +vintage much better. The climate is very +delightful, Julius is sure he will derive benefit +from it; and so on, and so on, and so on." +Then there was a short pause, and a rapid turn +of the sheet to glance at the other side. "Oh, +Julius met Harry yesterday! He—Julius—does +not think Harry is doing right. 'Harry +<a name="Page_216" id="Page_216"></a>always was selfish and extravagant, and though +he did affront us on our wedding-day, Julius +thought it proper to call upon him. He—I +mean Harry—was with a most beautiful young +girl. Julius thinks father ought to write to +him, and tell him to go back to his duty.'"</p> + +<p>These were the words, doubtful and suggestive, +which made every heart in Seat-Sandal +thoroughly uncomfortable. And yet Charlotte +stoutly said, "I would not mind Sophia's insinuations, +father and mother. She is angry at +Harry. Harry has as much right in Florence +as Sophia has. He told us he was going +there. He has written to us frequently. Suppose +he was with a beautiful girl: is Julius the +only young man entitled to such a privilege? +Sophia is happy in her own way, and we do +not envy nor interfere with her happiness; but +why should we permit her to make us unhappy? +Throw the letter out of your memories, dear +father and mother. It is only a piece of ill-nature. +Perhaps Julius had been cross with +her; and if Sophia has a grievance, she never +rests until she passes it on to some one."</p> + +<p>Women still hold the divining-cup, and +Charlotte was not far wrong in her supposition.<a name="Page_217" id="Page_217"></a> +In spite of their twinship of soul, and +in spite of that habit of loving which was +involved in their belief "that they had been +husband and wife in many a previous existence," +Mr. and Mrs. Julius Sandal disagreed as +conventionally as the ordinary husband and +wife of one existence. The day on which the +Florence letter was written had been a very +unhappy one for Sophia. Julius had quarrelled +with her about some very trivial affair, and +had gone out in a temper disgracefully at +variance with the occasion for it; and Sophia +had sat all day nursing her wrath in her +darkened room. She did not dress for the +evening drive, for she had determined to "keep +up" her anger until Julius made her some +atonement.</p> + +<p>But when he came home, she could not +resist his air of confidence and satisfaction. +He had quite forgotten the affair at the breakfast-table, +and was only eager for her help and +sympathy. "I have seen Harry," he said.</p> + +<p>"Very well. You came here to find him. +I suppose I can see him also. I am sure I +need to see some one. I have been neglected +all day; suffering, lonely,"—</p><p><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218"></a></p> + +<p>"Sophia, you and I are here to look after +our own affairs a little. If you are willing to +help me, I shall be glad; if not"—</p> + +<p>"You know I will help you in any thing I +can, Julius."</p> + +<p>Then he kissed her, and she cried a little, +and he kissed her again; and she dressed herself, +and they went for a drive, and during it +met Harry, and brought him back to dine with +them. Julius was particularly pleasant to the +unsuspicious soldier. He soon perceived that +he was thoroughly disgusted with the rigor and +routine of military life, and longing to free +himself from its thraldom; and he encouraged +him in the idea.</p> + +<p>"I wonder how you stand it, Harry," he +said sympathetically.</p> + +<p>"You see, Julius, when I went into the +army, I was so weary of Sandal-Side; and I +liked the uniform, and the stir of an officer's +life, and the admiration of the girls, and the +whole <i>éclat</i> of the thing. But when a man's +time comes, and he falls so deeply in love +that he cares for nothing on earth but one +woman, then he hates whatever comes between +himself and that woman."</p><p><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219"></a></p> + +<p>"Naturally so. I suppose it is the young +lady I saw you walking with this morning."</p> + +<p>And Harry blushed like a girl as he gravely +nodded his head.</p> + +<p>"Does she live here?"</p> + +<p>"She will for the future."</p> + +<p>"And you must go back to your regiment?"</p> + +<p>"Almost immediately."</p> + +<p>"Too bad! Too bad! Why not leave the +army?"</p> + +<p>"I—I have thought of that; but unless I +returned to Sandal-Side, my father would be +angry beyond every thing."</p> + +<p>"Fathers cannot be autocrats—quite. You +might sell out."</p> + +<p>"Julius, you ought not to suggest such a +thing. The temptation has been lurking in +my own heart. I am sorry you have given it +a voice. It would be a shameful thing to do +unless father were willing."</p> + +<p>"I have a friend anxious for a commission. +I should think a thousand pounds would make +an exchange."</p> + +<p>"Do not speak on the subject, Julius."</p> + +<p>"Very well. I was only supposing; a +fellow-feeling, you know. I have married the +<a name="Page_220" id="Page_220"></a>girl I desired; and I am sorry for a young man +who is obliged to leave a handsome mistress, +and to feel that others may see her and talk to +her while he cannot. It was only a supposition. +Do not mind it."</p> + +<p>But the germ of every wrong deed is the +reflection whether it be possible. And after +Harry had gone away with the thought in his +heart, Julius sat musing over his own plans, and +Sophia wrote the letter which so unnecessarily +and unkindly shadowed the pleasant life at +Seat-Sandal. For though the squire pooh-poohed +it, and Charlotte professed indifference +about it, and Mrs. Sandal kept assuring herself +and others that "Harry never, never would do +any thing wrong or unkind, especially about a +woman," every one was apprehensive and +watchful. But at last, even suspicion tires of +watching for events that never happen; and +Sophia sent other letters, and made no mention +of Harry; and the fear that had crouched at +each home-heart slunk away into forgetfulness.</p> + +<p>Into total forgetfulness. When Harry voluntarily +came home for Christmas, no one coupled +his visit with the remarks made by Sophia four +months previously. They had not expected to +<a name="Page_221" id="Page_221"></a>see him, and the news of his advent barely +reached the house before he followed it; for +there was a heavy snow-storm, and the mail was +sent forward with difficulty. So Mrs. Sandal +was reading the letter announcing his visit +when she heard his voice in the hall, and the +joyful cry of Charlotte as she ran to meet him. +And that night every one was too happy, too +full of inquiry and information, to notice that +Harry was under an unusual restraint. It did +not even strike Charlotte until she awoke the +next morning with all her faculties fresh and +clear; then she felt, rather than understood, +that there was something not quite right about +Harry.</p> + +<p>It was still snowing, and every thing was +white; but the atmosphere of a quiet, happy +Christmas was in the house. There were smiling +faces and good wishes at the breakfast-table, +and the shifting lustres of blazing fires upon +the dark walls and evergreens and wax-white +mistletoe. And the wind brought a Christmas +greeting from the bells of Furness and Torver, +and Sandal-Side peal sent it on to Earlstower +and Coniston. After breakfast they all went +to church; and Harry saw, as in a dream, the +<a name="Page_222" id="Page_222"></a>sacred table spread with spotless cloth and +silver cups and flagons, and the dim place +decked with holly, and the smiling glance of +welcome from his old acquaintances in the +village. And he fell into a reverie which was +not a Christmas reverie, and had it suddenly +broken by his sister singing high and clear the +carol the angels sung on the hills of Bethlehem,—"Glory +be to God on high!" And the tears +sprang into his eyes, and he looked stealthily at +his father and mother, who were reverently +listening; and said softly to himself, "I wish +that I had never been born."</p> + +<p>For he had come to tell his father news +which he knew would shake the foundations of +love and life; and he felt like a coward and +a thief in delaying the explanation. "What +right have I to this one day's more love?" he +asked himself; and yet he could not endure to +mar the holy, unselfish festival with the revelation +of his own selfishness. As the day wore +on, a sense of weariness and even gloom came +with it. Rich food and wine are by no means +conducive to cheerfulness. The squire sloomed +and slept in his chair; and finally, after a cup of +tea, went to bed. The servants had a party in +<a name="Page_223" id="Page_223"></a>their own hall, and Mrs. Sandal and Charlotte +were occupied an hour or two in its ordering. +Then the mother was thoroughly weary; and +before it was quite nine o'clock, Harry and +Charlotte were left alone by the parlor fire. +Charlotte was a little dull also; for Steve had +found it impossible to get down the mountain +during the storm, and she missed him, and was +constantly inclined to fall into short silences.</p> + +<p>After one of them, she raised her eyes to +Harry's face, and was shocked by its expression. +"Harry," she said, leaning forward to take his +hand, "I am sure you are in trouble. What is +it?"</p> + +<p>"If I durst tell you, Charlotte!"</p> + +<p>"Whatever you have dared to do, you may +dare to tell me, Harry, I think."</p> + +<p>"I have got married."</p> + +<p>"Well, where is the harm? Is it to the lady +whose picture you showed me?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I told you she was poor."</p> + +<p>"It is a great pity she is poor. I am afraid +we are getting poor too. Father was saying +last week that he had been talking with Squire +Beverley. Emily is to have fifteen thousand +pounds. Father is feverishly anxious about you +<a name="Page_224" id="Page_224"></a>and Emily. Her fortune would be a great +thing at Sandal, and father likes her."</p> + +<p>"What is the use of talking about Emily? +I have been married to Beatrice Lanza since +last September."</p> + +<p>"Such a strange name! Is it a Scotch +name?"</p> + +<p>"She is an Italian."</p> + +<p>"Harry Sandal! What a shame!"</p> + +<p>"Don't you think God made Italians as well +as Englishmen?"</p> + +<p>"That is not the question. God made Indians +and negroes and all sorts of people. +But he set the world in races, as he set races +in families. He told the Jews to keep to themselves. +He was angry when they intermarried +with others. It always brought harm. What +kind of a person is an Italian? They are papists, +I know. The Pope of Rome is an Italian. +O Harry, Harry, Harry! It will kill father +and mother. But perhaps, as you met her in +Edinburgh, she is a Protestant. The Scotch +are all Protestants."</p> + +<p>"Beatrice is a Roman Catholic, a very strict +Roman Catholic. I had to marry her in a +Romish church." He said the words rather defiantly, +<a name="Page_225" id="Page_225"></a>for Charlotte's attitude offended him; +and he had reached that point when it was a +reckless pleasure to put things at their worst.</p> + +<p>"Then I am ashamed of you. The dear old +rector! He married father and mother; he +christened and confirmed you; you might be +sure, that if you could not ask him to marry +you, you had no business to marry at all."</p> + +<p>"You said her face was like an angel's, and +that you would love her, Charlotte."</p> + +<p>"Oh, indeed! But I did not think the angel +was an Italian angel and a Roman-Catholic +angel. Circumstances alter cases. You, who +have been brought up a good Church-of-England +gentleman, to go over to the Pope of +Rome!"</p> + +<p>"I have not gone over to the Pope of +Rome."</p> + +<p>"All the same, Harry; all the same. And +you know how father feels about that. Father +would fight for the Church quicker than he +would fight for his own house and land. Why! +the Sandals got all of their Millom Estate for +being good Protestants; for standing by the +Hanoverian line instead of those popish Stuarts. +Father will think you have committed an +<a name="Page_226" id="Page_226"></a>act of treason against both church and state, +and he will be ashamed to show his face among +the Dale squires. It is too bad! too bad for any +thing!" and she covered her face, and cried +bitterly.</p> + +<p>"She is so lovely, so good"—</p> + +<p>"Nonsense! Were there no lovely English +girls? no good English girls? Emily is ten +times lovelier."</p> + +<p>"You know what you said."</p> + +<p>"I said it to please you."</p> + +<p>"Charlotte!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I did,—at least, in a great measure. +It is easy enough to call a pretty girl an angel; +and as for my promise to love your wife, of +course I expected you would choose a wife suitable +to your religion and your birth. Suppose +you selected some outlandish dress,—an Italian +brigand's, for instance,—what would the neighboring +gentlemen think of you? It would be +an insult to their national costume, and they +would do right to resent it. Well, being who +and what you are, you have no right to bring +an Italian woman into Seat-Sandal. It is an +insult to every woman in the county, and they +will make you feel it."</p><p><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227"></a></p> + +<p>"I shall not give them the opportunity. +Beatrice cannot live in this beastly climate."</p> + +<p>"The climate is wrong also? Naturally. It +would follow the religion and the woman. +Harry Sandal, I wish I had died, ere my ears +had heard such a shame and sorrow for my +father and mother! Where are you going to +live, then?"</p> + +<p>"In Florence. It is the birthplace of Beatrice +the city associated with all her triumphs."</p> + +<p>"God have mercy, Harry! Her triumphs! +Is she, then, an actress?"</p> + +<p>"She is a singer,—a wonderful singer; one +to whom the world has listened with breathless +delight."</p> + +<p>"A singing woman! And you have married +her? It is an outrage on your ancestors, and +on your parents and sisters."</p> + +<p>"I will not hear you speak in that way, Charlotte. +Of course I married her. Did you wish +me to ruin and debase her? <i>That</i>, I suppose, +you could have forgiven. My sin against the +Sandals and society is, that I married her."</p> + +<p>"No, sir; you know better. Your sin is in +having any thing whatever to do with her. +There is not a soul in Sandal that would have +<a name="Page_228" id="Page_228"></a>hesitated between ruin and marriage. If it had +to be one or the other, then father and mother +both, then I, then all your friends, would have +said without hesitation, 'Marry the woman.'"</p> + +<p>"I expected and hoped this would be your +view of the situation. I could not give up +Beatrice, and I could not be a scoundrel to +her."</p> + +<p>"You might have thought of another woman +besides Beatrice. Is a sin against a mother a +less sin than one against a strange woman? A +mother is something sacred. To wound her +heart is to throw a stone at her. You have +committed a sort of sacrilege. And you are +married. No entreaties can prevent, and no +repentance can avail. Oh, what a sorrow to +darken all the rest of father's and mother's +days! What right have you to spoil their +lives, in order to give yourself a little pleasure? +O Harry! I never knew that you were selfish +before."</p> + +<p>"I deserve all you say, Charley, but I loved +Beatrice so much."</p> + +<p>"Are you sure, even of that excuse? I +heard you vow that you loved Eliza Pierson +'so much,' and Fanny Ulloch 'so much,' and<a name="Page_229" id="Page_229"></a> +Emily Beverley 'so much.' Why did you not +come home, and speak to me before it was too +late? Why come at all now?"</p> + +<p>"Because I want to talk to you about money. +I have sold out."</p> + +<p>"Sold out? Is there any more bad news? +Do you know what father paid for your commission? +Do you know how it hampered him +to do it? that, in fact, he has never been quite +easy about ready money since?"</p> + +<p>"I had to sell out. Did I not tell you that +Beatrice could not live in this climate? She +was very ill when she returned to Italy. +Signor Lanza was in great trouble about +her."</p> + +<p>"Signor Lanza? Her brother, I suppose."</p> + +<p>"You suppose wrong. He is her father."</p> + +<p>"For her, then, you have given up your +faith, your country, your home, your profession, +every thing that other men hold dear and +sacred. Do you expect father to support you? +Or is your wife to sing in Italy?"</p> + +<p>"I think you are trying how disagreeable you +can be, Charlotte."</p> + +<p>"I am asking you honest questions in honest +words."</p><p><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230"></a></p> + +<p>"I have the money from the sale of my +commission."</p> + +<p>"It does not then strike you as dishonorable +to keep it?"</p> + +<p>"No, father gave me it."</p> + +<p>"It appears to me, that if money was taken +from the estate, let us say to stock a sheep-walk, +and it was decided after three years' trial +to give up the enterprise, and sell the sheep, +that the money would naturally go back to the +estate. When you came of age, father made +you a very generous allowance. After a time +you preferred that he should invest a large +sum in a military commission for you; and you +proposed to live upon your pay,—a thing you +never have even tried to do. Suddenly, you +find that the commission will not suit your +more recent plans, and you sell it. Ought not +the money to go back to the estate, and you +to make a fresh arrangement with father about +your allowance? That is my idea."</p> + +<p>"Foolishness! And pray what allowance +would my father make me, after the marriage +I have contracted?"</p> + +<p>"Now, you show your secret heart, Harry. +You know you have no right to expect one, +<a name="Page_231" id="Page_231"></a>and so you keep what is not yours. This sin +also for the woman whom you have put before +every sentiment of love and honor."</p> + +<p>"You were stubborn enough about Steve +Latrigg."</p> + +<p>"I was honorable; I was considerate for +father, and did not put Stephen before him. +Do you think I would ever marry Stephen +against father's wish, or to the injury or +suffering of any one whom I love? Certainly +I would marry no one else, but I gave father +my word that I would wait for his sanction. +When people do right, things come right for +them. But if father had stood out twenty +years, Steve and I would have waited. Ducie +gave us the same advice. 'Wait, children,' she +said: 'I have seen many a wilful match, and +many a run-away match, but never one, never +one that prospered.'"</p> + +<p>"Charley, I expected you to stand by me. I +expected you to help me."</p> + +<p>"O Harry, Harry! How can I help? +What can I do? There is nothing left but to +suffer."</p> + +<p>"There is this: plead for me when I am +away. My wife is sick in Florence. I must +<a name="Page_232" id="Page_232"></a>go to her at once. The money I have from +my commission is all I have. I am going to +invest it in a little house and vineyard. I have +found out that my real tastes are for a pastoral +life."</p> + +<p>"Ah, if you could only have found that +out for father!"</p> + +<p>"Circumstances may change."</p> + +<p>"That is, your father may die. I suppose +you and your wife have talked over that +probability. Beatrice will be able to endure the +climate then."</p> + +<p>"If I did not see that you were under very +strong excitement, Charlotte, I should be much +offended by what you say. But you don't +mean to hurt me. Do you imagine that I feel +no sorrow in leaving father and my mother and +you and the old home? My heart is very sad +to-night, Charley. I feel that I shall come +here no more."</p> + +<p>"Then why go away? Why, why?"</p> + +<p>"Because a man leaves father and mother +and every thing for the woman he loves. Charley, +help me."</p> + +<p>She shook her head sadly.</p> + +<p>"Help me to break the trouble to father."</p><p><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233"></a></p> + +<p>"There is no 'breaking' it. It will break +him. It will kill him. Alas, it is the ungrateful +child that has the power to inflict a slow +and torturing death! Poor father! Poor +mother! And it is I that must witness it. I, +that would die to save them from such undeserved +sorrow."</p> + +<p>Then Harry rose up angrily, pushed his +chair impatiently away, and without a word +went to his own room.</p> + +<p>In the morning the squire came down +to breakfast in exceedingly high spirits. A +Scotchman would have called him "<i>fey</i>," and +been certain that misfortune was at his heels. +And Charlotte looked at him in wondering +pity, for Harry's face was the face of a man +determined to carry out his own will regardless +of consequences.</p> + +<p>"Come, come, Harry," said the squire in a +loud, cheerful voice, "you are moping, and eating +no breakfast. Charlotte will have to fill +three times before it is 'cup down' with me. +I think we will take Dobbin, and go over to +Windermere in the tax-cart. The roads will +be a bit sloppery, but Dobbin isn't too old to +splash through them at a rattling pace. He is +<a name="Page_234" id="Page_234"></a>a famous good old-has-been is Dobbin. Give +me a Suffolk Punch for a roadster. I set much +by them. Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>"I must leave Sandal this morning, sir."</p> + +<p>"Sir me no sir, Harry. 'Father' will stand +between you and me, I think. You must make +a put-off for one day. I was at Bowness last +week, and they say such a winter for char-fishing +was never seen. While I was on the lakeside, +Kit Noble's boat came in. He had all of +twenty dozen in the bottom of it. Mr. Wordsworth +was there too, and he made a piece of +poetry about 'The silvery lights playing over +them;' and he took me to see a picture that a +London gentleman painted of Kit and his boat. +You never saw fish out of the water look so +fresh; their olive-green backs and vermillion +bellies and dark-red fins were as natural as life. +Come Harry, we will go and fetch over a few +dozen. If you carry your colonel some, he will +take the gift as an excuse for the day. Eh? +What?"</p> + +<p>"I think Harry had better not go with you, +father."</p> + +<p>"Eh? What is the matter with you, Charlotte? +You are as nattert and cross as never +<a name="Page_235" id="Page_235"></a>was. Where is your mother? I like my morning +cup filled with a smile. It helps the day +through."</p> + +<p>"Mother isn't feeling well. She had a bad +dream about Harry and you, and she is making +herself sick over it. She is all in a tremble. +I didn't think mother was so foolish."</p> + +<p>"Dreams are from somewhere beyond us, +Charlotte. There's them that visit us a-dreaming. +I am not so wise as to be foolish. I believe +in some things that are outside of my +short wits. Maybe we had better not go to +Windermere. We might be tempted into a +boat, and dry land is a middling bit safer. Eh? +What?"</p> + +<p>Charlotte felt as if she could endure her +father's unsuspicious happiness no longer. It +was like watching a little child smiling and +prattling on the road to its mother's funeral. +She put Mrs. Sandal's breakfast on a small +tray, and with this in her hand went up-stairs, +leaving Harry and the squire still at the table.</p> + +<p>"Charlotte is a bit hurrysome this morning," +he said; and Harry making no answer, he +seemed suddenly to be struck with his attitude. +He looked curiously at him a moment, and +<a name="Page_236" id="Page_236"></a>then lapsed into silence. "Harry wants +money." That was his first thought, and he +began to calculate how far he was able to meet +the want. Even then, his only bitter reflection +was, that Harry should suppose it necessary +to be glum about it. "A cheerful asker is +the next thing to a cheerful giver;" and to +such musings he filled his pipe, and with a +shadow of offence on his large ruddy face went +into "the master's room" to smoke.</p> + +<p>When kindly good-nature is snubbed, it feels +it keenly; and there was a mist of tears in the +squire's blue eyes when Harry followed, and he +turned them on him. And it was part of his +punishment, that, even in the first flush of +the pleasure of his sin, he felt all the pangs of +remorse.</p> + +<p>"Father?"</p> + +<p>"Well, well, Harry! I see you are wanting +money again."</p> + +<p>"It will be the last time. I am married, and +am going to Italy to live."</p> + +<p>"Eh? What?" The squire flushed hotly. +His hand shook, his long clay pipe fell to the +hearthstone, and was shattered to pieces.</p> + +<p>Then a reckless desire to have the whole +<a name="Page_237" id="Page_237"></a>wrong out urged the unhappy son to a most +cruel distinctness of detail. Without wasting +a word in explanation or excuse, he stated +broadly that he had fallen in love with the +famous singer, Beatrice Lanza, and had married +her. He spared himself or his father nothing; +he appeared to gather a hard courage as he +spoke of her failing health, her hatred of England, +her devotion to her own faith, and the +necessity of his retirement to Italy with her. +He seemed determined to put it out of the +power of any one to say worse of him than he +had already said of himself. In conclusion he +added, "I have sold my commission, and paid +what I owed, and have very little money left. +Life, however, is not an expensive affair in the +village to which I am going. If you will allow +me two hundred pounds a year I shall be very +grateful."</p> + +<p>"I will not give you one penny, sir."</p> + +<p>The words came thick and heavy, and with +great difficulty; though the wretched father +had risen, and was standing by the table, leaning +hard with both hands upon it.</p> + +<p>He would not look at his son, though the +young man went on speaking. He heard nothing +<a name="Page_238" id="Page_238"></a>that he said. In his ears there was the +roaring of mighty waters. All the waves and +the billows were going over him. For a few +moments he struggled desperately with the +black, advancing tide. His sight failed, it was +growing dark. Then he threw the last forces +of life into one terrible cry, and fell, as a great +tree falls, heavily to the ground.</p> + +<p>The cry rang through the house. The +mother, trembling in her bed; Charlotte, +crouching upon the stairs, fearing and listening; +the servants, chattering in the kitchen +and the chambers,—all heard it, and were for +a moment horrified by the agony and despair +it expressed. But ere the awful echo had quite +subsided, Charlotte was at her father's side; +in a moment afterwards, Mrs. Sandal, sobbing +at every flying step, and still in her night-clothing, +followed; and then servants from every +quarter came rushing to the master's room.</p> + +<p>There was no time for inquiry or lamentation. +Harry and two of the men mounted +swift horses in search of medical help. Others +lifted the insensible man, and carried him tenderly +to his bed. In a moment the atmosphere +of the house had changed. The master's room, +<a name="Page_239" id="Page_239"></a>which had held for generations nothing but +memories of pastoral business and sylvan pleasures, +had suddenly become a place of sorrow. +The shattered pipe upon the hearthstone made +Charlotte utter a low, hopeless cry of pain. +She closed the shutters, and put the burning +logs upon the hearth safely together, and then +locked the door. Alas! alas! they had carried +the master out, and in Charlotte's heart +there was a conviction that he would never +more cross its threshold.</p> + +<p>After Harry's first feelings of anguish and +horror had subsided, he was distinctly resentful. +He felt his father's suffering to be a +wrong to him. He began to reflect that the +day for such intense emotions had passed away. +But he forgot that the squire belonged to a +generation whose life was filled and ruled by +a few strong, decided feelings and opinions that +struck their roots deep into the very foundations +of existence; a generation, also, which +was bearing the brunt of the transition between +the strong, simple life of the past, and +the rapid, complex life of the present. Thus +the squire opposed to the indifference of the +time a rigidity of habits, which, to even small +<a name="Page_240" id="Page_240"></a>events, gave that exceptional character which +rarity once imparted. He felt every thing +deeply, because every thing retained its importance +to him. He had great reverence. He +loved, and he hated. All his convictions and +prejudices were for life.</p> + +<p>Harry's marriage had been a blow at the +roots of all his conscious existence. The +Sandals had always married in their own +county, Cumberland ladies of honorable pedigree, +good daughters of the Church of England, +good housewives, gentle and modest +women, with more or less land and gold as +their dowry. Emily Beverley would have been +precisely such a wife. And in a moment, even +while Harry was speaking, the squire had +contrasted this Beatrice Lanza with her;—a +foreigner,—an Italian, of all foreigners most +objectionable; a subject of the Papal States; +a member of the Romish Church; a woman of +obscure birth, poor and portionless, and in ill-health; +worse than all, a public woman, who +had sung for money, and yet who had made +Harry desert his home and country and profession +for her. And with this train of thought +another ran parallel,—the shame and the wrong +<a name="Page_241" id="Page_241"></a>of it all. The disgrace to his wife and daughters, +the humiliation to himself. Each bitter +thought beat on his heart like the hammer on +the anvil. They fought and blended with each +other. He could not master one. He felt +himself being beaten to the ground. He made +agonizing efforts to retain control over the +surging wave of anguish, rising, rising, rising +from his breast to his brain. And failing to +do so, he fell with the mighty cry of one who, +even in the death agony, protests against the +victor.</p> + +<p>The news spread as if all the birds in the air +carried it. There were a dozen physicians in +Seat-Sandal before noon. There was a crowd +of shepherds around it, waiting in silent groups +for their verdict. All the afternoon the gentlemen +of the Dales were coming and going +with offers of help and sympathy; and in the +lonely parlor the rector was softly pacing up +and down, muttering, as he walked, passages +from the "Order for the Visitation of the +Sick":—</p> + +<p>"O Saviour of the world, who by thy cross +and precious blood hast redeemed us, save us, +and help us, we humbly beseech thee, O Lord.</p><p><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242"></a></p> + +<p>"Spare us good Lord. Spare thy people +whom thou hast redeemed with thy most +precious blood.</p> + +<p>"Shut not up thy tender mercies in displeasure; +but make him to hear of joy and +gladness.</p> + +<p>"Deliver him from the fear of the enemy. +Lift up the light of thy countenance upon him. +Amen."</p><p><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243"></a></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX.</h2> + +<h3>ESAU.</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"To be weak is miserable,<br /> +Doing or suffering."</p> + +<p>"Now conscience wakes despair<br /> +That slumberd; wakes the bitter memory<br /> +Of what he was, what is, and what must be."</p><br /> +</div> + + +<p>It was the middle of February before Harry +could leave Sandal-Side. He had remained +there, however, only out of that deference to +public opinion which no one likes to offend; +and it had been a most melancholy and anxious +delay. He was not allowed to enter the squire's +room, and indeed he shrank from the ordeal. +His mother and Charlotte treated him with a +reserve he felt to be almost dislike. He had +been so accustomed to consider mother-love +sufficient to cover all faults, that he forgot there +was a stronger tie; forgot that to the tender +wife the husband of her youth—her lover, +friend, companion—is far nearer and dearer +<a name="Page_244" id="Page_244"></a>than the tie that binds her to sons and daughters.</p> + +<p>Also, he did not care to give any consideration +to the fact, that both his mother and Charlotte +resented the kind of daughter and sister +he had forced upon them. So there was little +sympathy with him at Seat-Sandal, and he fancied +that all the gentlemen of the neighborhood +treated him with a perceptible coolness of +manner. Perhaps they did. There are social +intuitions, mysterious in their origin, and yet +hitting singularly near the truth. Before +circumstances permitted him to leave Sandal-Side, +he had begun to hate the Seat and the +neighborhood, and every thing pertaining to it, +with all his heart.</p> + +<p>The only place of refuge he had found had +been Up-Hill. The day after the catastrophe +he fought his way there, and with passionate +tears and complaints told Ducie the terrible +story. Ducie had some memories of her own +wilful marriage, which made her tolerant with +Harry. She had also been accused of causing +her mother's death; and though she knew herself +to be innocent, she had suffered by the +accusation. She understood Harry's trouble as +<a name="Page_245" id="Page_245"></a>few others could have done; and though a good +deal of his evident misery was on account of +his separation from Beatrice, Ducie did not +suspect this, and really believed the young man +to be breaking his heart over the results of his +rash communication.</p> + +<p>He was agreeably surprised, also, to find that +Stephen treated him with a consideration he +had never done when he was a dashing officer, +with all his own small world at his feet. For +when any man was in trouble, Steve Latrigg +was sure to take that man's part. He did not +ask too particularly into the trouble. He had +a way of saying to Ducie, "There will be faults +on both sides. If two stones knock against +each other until they strike fire, you may be +sure both of them have been hard, mother. +Any way, Harry is in trouble, and there is none +but us to stand up for him."</p> + +<p>But in spite of Steve's constant friendship, +and Ducie's never-failing sympathy, Harry had +a bad six weeks. There were days during them +when he stood in the shadow of death, with +almost the horror of a parricide in his heart. +Long, lonely days, empty of every thing but +anxiety and weariness. Long, stormy days, +<a name="Page_246" id="Page_246"></a>when he had not even the relief of a walk to +Up-Hill. Days in which strangers slighted him. +Days in which his mother and Charlotte could +not even bear to see him. Days in which he +fancied the servants disliked and neglected +him. He was almost happy one afternoon +when Stephen met him on the hillside, and +said, "The squire is much better. The doctors +think he is in no immediate danger. You +might go to your wife, Harry, I should say."</p> + +<p>"I am glad, indeed, to hear the squire is out +of danger. And I long to go to my sick wife. +I get little credit for staying here. I really believe, +Steve, that people accuse me of waiting +to step into father's shoes. And yet if I go +away they will say things just as cruel and +untrue."</p> + +<p>But he went away before day-dawn next +morning. Charlotte came down-stairs, and +served his coffee; but Mrs. Sandal was watching +the squire, who had fallen into a deep sleep. +Charlotte wept much, and said little; and Harry +felt at that hour as if he were being very +badly treated. He could scarcely swallow; and +the intense silence of the house made every +slight noise, every low word, so distinct and +<a name="Page_247" id="Page_247"></a>remarkable, that he felt the constraint to be +really painful.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said, rising in haste, "I may as +well go without a kind word. I am not to have +one, apparently."</p> + +<p>"Who is here to speak it? Can father? or +mother? or I? But you have that woman."</p> + +<p>"Good-by, Charley."</p> + +<p>She bit her lips, and wrung her hands; and +moaning like some wounded creature lifted her +face, and kissed him.</p> + +<p>"Good-by. Fare you well, poor Harry."</p> + +<p>A little purse was in his hand when she took +her hand away; a netted silk one that he had +watched the making of, and there was the glimmer +of gold pieces through it. With a blush +he put it in his pocket, for he was sorely +pressed for money; and the small gift was a +great one to him. And it almost broke his +heart. He felt that it was all she could give +him,—a little gold for all the sweet love that +had once been his.</p> + +<p>His horse was standing ready saddled. 'Osttler +Bill opened the yard-gate, and lifted the +lantern above his head, and watched him ride +slowly away down the lane. When he had +<a name="Page_248" id="Page_248"></a>gone far enough to drown the clatter of the +hoofs he put the creature to his mettle, and +Bill waved the lantern as a farewell. Then, as +it was still dark, he went back to the stable +and lay down to sleep until the day broke, and +the servants began to open up the house.</p> + +<p>When Harry reached Ambleside it was quite +light, and he went to the Salutation Inn, and +ordered his breakfast. He had been a favorite +with the landlady all his life long, and she +attended to his comfort with many kindly inquiries +and many good wishes. "And what do +you think now, Capt. Sandal? Here has been +a man from Up-Hill with a letter for you."</p> + +<p>"Is he gone?"</p> + +<p>"That he is. He would not wait, even for a +bite of good victuals. He was dryish, though, +and I gave him a glass of beer. Then him and +his little Galloway took themselves off, without +more words about it. Here it is, and Mr. Latrigg's +writing on it or I wasn't christened +Hannah Stavely."</p> + +<p>Harry opened it a little anxiously; but his +heart lightened as he read,—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">Dear Harry,</span>—If you show the enclosed slip of +paper to your old friend Hannah Stavely, she will give +<a name="Page_249" id="Page_249"></a>you a hundred pounds for it. That is but a little bit of +the kindness in mother's heart and mine for you. At +Seat-Sandal I will speak up for you always, and I will +send you a true word as to how all gets on there. God +bless the squire, and bring you and him together again!</p> + +<p>Your friend and brother,</p> + +<p>STEPHEN LATRIGG.</p></div> + +<p>And so Harry went on his way with a lighter +heart. Indeed, he was not inclined at any time +to share sorrow out of which he had escaped. +Every mile which he put between himself and +Sandal-Side gave back to him something of his +old gay manner. He began first to excuse himself, +then to blame others; and in a few hours +he was in very comfortable relations with his +own conscience; and this, not because he was +deliberately cruel or wicked, but because he +was weak, and loved pleasure, and considered +that there was no use in being sorry when +sorrow was neither a credit to himself, nor a +compliment to others. And so to Italy and to +love he sped as fast as money and steam could +carry him. And on the journey he did his +very best to put out of his memory the large, +lonely, gray "Seat," with its solemn, mysterious +chamber of suffering, and its wraiths +<a name="Page_250" id="Page_250"></a>and memories and fearful fighting away of +death.</p> + +<p>But on the whole, the hope which Stephen +had given him of the squire's final recovery was +a too flattering one. There was, perhaps, no +immediate danger of death, but there was still +less prospect of entire recovery. He had begun +to remember a little, to speak a word or +two, to use his hands in the weak, uncertain +way of a young child; but in the main he lay +like a giant, bound by invisible and invincible +bonds; speechless, motionless, seeking through +his large, pathetic eyes the help and comfort of +those who bent over him. He had quite lost +the fine, firm contour of his face, his ruddy +color was all gone; indeed, the country expression +of "face of clay," best of all words described +the colorless, still countenance amid the +white pillows in the darkened room.</p> + +<p>As the spring came on he gained strength +and intelligence, and one lovely day his men +lifted him to a couch by the window. The +lattices were flung wide open, that he might +see the trees tossing about their young leaves, +and the grass like grass in paradise, and hear +the bees humming among the apple-blooms, +<a name="Page_251" id="Page_251"></a>and the sheep bleating on the fells. The earth +was full of the beauty and the tranquillity of +God. The squire looked long at the familiar +sights; looked till his lips trembled, and the +tears rolled heavily down his gray face. And +then he realized all that he had suffered, he +remembered the hand that had dealt him the +blow. And while Mrs. Sandal was kissing +away his tears, and speaking words of hope +and love, a letter came from Sophia.</p> + +<p>It was dated Calcutta. Julius had taken her +there in the winter, and the news of her +father's illness did not reach her for some +weeks. But, as it happened, when Charlotte's +letter detailing the sad event arrived, Julius +was particularly in need of something to wonder +over and to speculate about; and of all +subjects, Seat-Sandal interested him most. To +be master of the fine old place was his supreme +ambition. He felt that he possessed all the +qualities necessary to make him a leader among +the Dales gentlemen. He foresaw, through +them, social influence and political power; and +he had an ambition to make his reign in the +house of Sandal the era of a new and far +more splendid dynasty.</p><p><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252"></a></p> + +<p>He had been lying in the shade, drinking +iced coffee, and smoking. But as Sophia read, +he sat upright, and a look of speculation came +into his eyes. "There is no use weeping, my +love," he said languidly, "you will only dim +your beauty, and that will do neither your +father nor me any good. Let us go to Sandal. +Charlotte and mother must be worn out, and +we can be useful at such a time. I think, +indeed, our proper place is there. The affairs +of the 'walks' and the farms must be attended +to, and what will they do on quarter-day? +Of course Harry will not remain there. It +would be unkind, wrong, and in exceedingly bad +taste."</p> + +<p>"Poor, dear father! And oh, Julius, what +a disgrace to the family! A singer! How +could Harry behave so shamefully to us all?"</p> + +<p>"Harry never cared for any mortal but himself. +How disgracefully he behaved about our +marriage; for this same woman's sake, I have +no doubt. You must remember that I disapproved +of Harry from the very first. The +idea of terminating a <i>liaison</i> of that kind with +a marriage! Harry ought to be put out of +decent society. You and I ought to be at<a name="Page_253" id="Page_253"></a> +Seat-Sandal now. Charlotte will be pushing +that Stephen Latrigg into the Sandal affairs, +and you know what I think of Stephen Latrigg. +He is to be feared, too, for he has capabilities, +and Charlotte to back him; and Charlotte +was always underhand, Sophia. You would not +see it, but she was. Order your trunks to be +packed at once,—don't forget the rubies my +mother promised you,—and I will have a conversation +with the judge."</p> + +<p>Judge Thomas Sandal was by no means a +bad fellow. He had left Sandal-Side under a +sense of great injustice, but he had done well +to himself; and those who had done him wrong, +had disappeared into the cloud of death. He +had forgotten all his grievances, he had even +forgotten the inflicters of them. He had now +a kindly feeling towards Sandal, and was a +little proud of having sprung from such a +grand old race. Therefore, when Julius told +him what had happened, and frankly said he +thought he could buy from Harry Sandal all +his rights of succession to the estate, Judge +Thomas Sandal saw nothing unjust in the +affair.</p> + +<p>The law of primogeniture had always appeared +<a name="Page_254" id="Page_254"></a>to him a most unjust and foolish law. +In his own youth it had been a source of burning +anger and dispute. He had always declared +it was a shame to give Launcelot every +thing, and William and himself scarce a crumb +off the family loaf. To his eldest brother, as +his eldest brother, he had declined to give +"honor and obedience." "William is a far +finer fellow," he said one day to his mother; +"far more worthy to follow father than Launcie +is. If there is any particular merit in keeping +up the old seat and name, for goodness' sake let +father choose the best of us to do it!" For +such revolutionary and disrespectful sentiments +he had been frequently in disgrace; and the end +of the disputing had been his own expatriation, +and the founding of a family of East-Indian +Sandals.</p> + +<p>He heard Julius with approval. "I think +you have a very good plan," he said. "Harry +Sandal, with his play-singing wife, would have +a very bad time of it among the Dalesmen. +He knows it. He will have no desire to test +the feeling. I am sure he will be glad to have +a sum of ready money in lieu of such an +uncomfortable right. As for the Latriggs, +<a name="Page_255" id="Page_255"></a>my mother always detested them. Sophia and +you are both Sandals; certainly, your claim +would be before that of a Charlotte Latrigg."</p> + +<p>"Harry, too, is one of those men who are +always poor, always wanting money. I dare +say I can buy his succession for a song."</p> + +<p>"No, no. Give him a fair price. I never +thought much of Jacob buying poor Esau out +for a mess of pottage. It was a mean trick. +I will put ten thousand pounds at Bunder's in +Threadneedle Street, London, for you. Draw +it all if you find it just and necessary. The +rental ought to determine the value. I want +you to have Seat-Sandal, but I do not want you +to steal it. However, my brother William may +not die for many a year yet; those Dale squires +are a century-living race."</p> + +<p>In accordance with these plans and intentions, +Sophia wrote. Her letter was, therefore, +one of great and general sympathy; in fact, a +very clever letter indeed. It completely deceived +every one. The squire was told that +Sophia and Julius were coming, and his face +brightened a little. Mrs. Sandal and Charlotte +forgot all but their need of some help and comfort +which was family help and comfort, free of +<a name="Page_256" id="Page_256"></a>ceremony, and springing from the same love, +hopes, and interests.</p> + +<p>Stephen, however, foresaw trouble. "Julius +will get the squire under his finger," he said to +Charlotte. "He will make himself indispensable +about the estate. As for Sophia, she could +always work mother to her own purposes. +Mother obeyed her will, even while she resented +and disapproved her authority. So, +Charlotte, I shall begin at once to build +Latrigg Hall. I know it will be needed. The +plan is drawn, the site is chosen; and next +Monday ground shall be broken for the foundation."</p> + +<p>"There is no harm in building your house, +Steve. If father should die, mother and I +would be here upon Harry's sufferance. He +might leave the place in our care, he might +bring his wife to it any day."</p> + +<p>"And how could you live with her?"</p> + +<p>"It would be impossible. I should feel as if +I were living with my father's—with the one +who really gave father the death-blow."</p> + +<p>So when Julius and Sophia arrived at Seat-Sandal, +the walls of Latrigg Hall were rising +above the green sod. A most beautiful site +<a name="Page_257" id="Page_257"></a>had been chosen for it,—the lowest spur on +the western side of the fell; a charming plateau +facing the sea, shaded with great oaks, and +sloping down into a little dale of lovely beauty. +The plan showed a fine central building, with +lower wings on each side. The wide porches, +deep windows, and small stone balconies gave +a picturesque irregularity to the general effect. +This home had been the dream of Stephen's +manhood, and Ducie also had urged him to its +speedy realization; for she knew that it was +the first step towards securing for himself that +recognition among the county gentry which +his wealth and his old family entitled him to. +Not that there was any intention of abandoning +Up-Hill. Both would have thought such a +movement a voluntary insult to the family +wraiths,—one sure to bring upon them disaster +of every kind. Up-Hill was to be Ducie's residence +as long as she lived; it was to be always +the home of the family in the hot months, and +thus retain its right as an integral part and +portion of the Latriggs' hearth.</p> + +<p>"I have seen the plan of Latrigg Hall," said +Julius one day to Sophia. "An absurdly fine +building for a man of Stephen's birth. What +<a name="Page_258" id="Page_258"></a>will he do with it? It will require as large an +income as Seat-Sandal to support it."</p> + +<p>"Stephen is rich. His grandfather left him +a great deal of money. Ducie will add considerably +to the sum, and Stephen seems to have +the faculty of getting it. My mother says he +is managing three 'walks,' and all of them are +doing well."</p> + +<p>"Nevertheless, I do not like him. 'In-law' +kinsmen and kinswomen are generally detestable. +Look at my brothers-in-law, Mr. Harry +Sandal and Mr. Stephen Latrigg; and my sisters-in-law, +Mrs. Harry Sandal and Miss Charlotte +Sandal; a pretty undesirable quartette I +think."</p> + +<p>"And look at mine. For sisters-in-law, +Mahal and Judith Sandal; for brothers-in-law, +William and Tom Sandal; a pretty undesirable +quartette I think."</p> + +<p>Julius did not relish the retort; for he replied +stiffly, "If so, they are at least at the +other end of the world, and not likely to trouble +you. That is surely something in their +favor."</p> + +<p>The first movement of the Julius Sandals in +Seat-Sandal had been a clever one. "I want +<a name="Page_259" id="Page_259"></a>you to let us have the east rooms, dear +mother," said Sophia, on their arrival; "Julius +does feel the need of the morning sun so +much." And though other rooms had been +prepared, the request was readily granted, and +without any suspicion of the motive which had +dictated it. And yet they had made a very +prudent calculation. Occupying the east +rooms gave them a certain prominence and +standing in the house, for only guests of importance +were assigned to them; and the servants, +who are people of wise perceptions +generally, took their tone from the circumstance.</p> + +<p>It seemed as if a spirit of dissatisfaction and +quarrelling came with them. The maids all +found out that their work was too heavy, and +that they were worn out with it. Sophia had +been pitying them. "Mrs. Sandal does not +mean to be hard, but she is so wrapped up +in the squire she sees nothing; and Miss +Charlotte is so strong herself, she really expects +too much from others. She does not +intend to be exacting, but then she is; she can't +help it."</p> + +<p>And sitting over "a bit of hot supper" the +<a name="Page_260" id="Page_260"></a>chambermaid repeated the remark; and the +housemaid said she only knew that she was +traipsed off her feet, and hadn't been near hand +her own folks for a fortnight; and the cook +thought Missis had got quite nattry. She +had been near falling out with her more than +once; and all the ill-nature was because she +was fagged out, all day long and every day +making some kind of little knick-shaw or other +that was never eaten.</p> + +<p>Not one remembered that the Julius Sandals +had themselves considerably increased the work +of the house; and that Mrs. Julius alone could +find quite sufficient employment for one maid. +Since her advent, Charlotte's room had been +somewhat neglected for the fine guest-chambers; +but it was upon Charlotte all the blame +of over-work and weariness was laid. Insensibly +the thought had its effect. She began to +feel that for some reason or other she was out +of favor; that her few wants were carelessly +attended to, and that Mrs. Julius influenced the +house as completely as she had done when she +was Miss Sandal.</p> + +<p>She soon discovered, also, that repining was +useless. Her mother begged for peace at any +<a name="Page_261" id="Page_261"></a>cost. "Put up with it," she said, "for a little +while, Charlotte. I cannot bear quarrelling. +And you know how Sophia will insist upon +explaining. She will call up the servants, and +'fend and prove,' and make complaints and +regrets, and in the long end have all on her +own side. And I can tell you that Ann has +been queer lately, and Elizabeth talks of leaving +at Martinmas. O Charlotte! put up with +things, my dear. There is only you to help +me."</p> + +<p>Charlotte could not resist such appeals. She +knew she was really the hand to which all +other hands in the house looked, the heart on +which her father and mother leaned their +weary hearts; still, she could not but resent +many an unkind position, which Sophia's clever +tactics compelled her to take. For instance, +as she was leaving the room one morning, +Sophia said in her blandest voice, "Dear +Charlotte, will you tell Ann to make one of +those queen puddings for Julius. He does +enjoy them so much."</p> + +<p>Ann did not receive the order pleasantly. +"They are a sight of trouble, Miss Charlotte. +I'll be hard set with the squire's fancies to-day.<a name="Page_262" id="Page_262"></a> +And there is as good as three dinners to make +now, and I must say a queen's pudding is a bit +thoughtless of you." And Charlotte felt the +injustice she was too proud to explain to a servant. +But even to Sophia, complaint availed +nothing. "You must give extra orders yourself +to Ann in the future," she said. "Ann +accuses me of being thoughtless in consequence +of them."</p> + +<p>"As if I should think of interfering in your +duties, Charlotte. I hope I know better than +that. You would be the first to complain of +my 'taking on' if I did, and I should not blame +you. I am only a guest here now. But I am +sure a little queen pudding is not too much to +ask, in one's own father's house too. Julius +has not many fancies I am sure, but such a +little thing."</p> + +<p>"Julius can have all the fancies he desires, +only do please order them from Ann yourself."</p> + +<p>"Well, I never! I am sure father and +mother would never oppose a little pudding +that Julius fancies."</p> + +<p>Does any one imagine that such trials as +these are small and insignificant? They are +the very ones that make the heart burn, and +<a name="Page_263" id="Page_263"></a>the teeth close on the lips, and the eyes fill +with angry tears. They take hope out of daily +work, and sunshine out of daily life, and slay +love as nothing else can slay it. There was +an evil spirit in the house,—a small, selfish, +envious, malicious spirit; people were cross, +and they knew not why; felt injured, and they +knew not why; the days were harder than those +dreadful ones when fire and candle were never +out, and every one was a watcher in the shadow +of death.</p> + +<p>As the season advanced, Julius took precisely +the position which Stephen had foretold he +would take. At first he deferred entirely to the +squire; he received his orders, and then saw +them carried out. Very soon he forgot to name +the squire in the matter. He held consultations +with the head man, and talked with him +about the mowing and harvesting, and the sale +of lambs and fleeces. The master's room was +opened, and Julius sat at the table to receive +tenants and laborers. In the squire's chair it +was easy to feel that he was himself squire of +Sandal-Side and Torver.</p> + +<p>It was a most unhappy summer. Evils, like +weeds, grow apace. There was scarcely any interval +<a name="Page_264" id="Page_264"></a>between some long-honored custom and +its disappearance. To-day it was observed as +it had been for a lifetime; the next week it +had passed away, and appeared to be forgotten. +"Such times I never saw," said Ann. "I have +been at Sandal twenty-two years come Martinmas, +but I'm going to Beverley next feast."</p> + +<p>"You'll not do it, Ann. It's but talk."</p> + +<p>"Nay, but I'm set on it. I have taken the +'fastening penny,' and I'm bound to make that +good. Things are that trying here now, that +I can't abide them longer."</p> + +<p>All summer servants were going and coming +at Seat-Sandal; the very foundations of its +domestic life were broken up, and Charlotte's +bright face had a constant wrinkle of worry and +annoyance. Sophia was careful to point out +the fact. "She has no housekeeping ability. +Every thing is in a mess. If I only durst take +hold of things. But Charlotte is such a spitfire, +one does not like to offer help. I would be +only too glad to put things right, but I should +give offence," etc. "The poison of asps under +the tongue," and a very little of it, can paralyze +and irritate a whole household.</p> + +<p>Mowing-time and shearing-time and reaping-time +<a name="Page_265" id="Page_265"></a>came and went, but the gay pastoral festivals +brought none of their old-time pleasure. +The men in the fields did not like Julius in the +squire's place, and they took no pains to hide +the fact. Then he came home with complaints. +"They were idle. They were disrespectful. +The crops had fallen short." He could not understand +it; and when he had expressed some +dissatisfaction on the matter, the head man had +told him, to take his grumbling to God Almighty. +"An insolent race, these statesmen +and Dale shepherds," he added; "if one of +them owns ten acres, he thinks himself as good +as if he owns a thousand."</p> + +<p>"All well-born men, Julius, all of them; are +they not, Charlotte? Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>"So well born," answered Charlotte warmly, +"that King James the First set up a claim to all +these small estates, on the plea that their owners +had never served a feudal lord, and were, +therefore, tenants of the crown. But the large +statesmen went with the small ones. They led +them in a body to a heath between Kendal and +Stavely, and there over two thousand men +swore, 'that as they had their lands by the +sword, they would keep them by the same.' So +<a name="Page_266" id="Page_266"></a>you see, Julius, they were gentlemen before the +feudal system existed; they never put a finger +under its authority, and they have long survived +its fall."</p> + +<p>"Well, for all that, they make poor servants."</p> + +<p>"There's men that want Indian ryots or +negro slaves to do their turn. I want free men +at Sandal-Side as long as I am squire of that +name."</p> + +<p>"They missed you sorely in the fields, father. +It was not shearing-time, nor hay-time, nor +harvest-time to any one in Sandal this year. +But you will stand in your meadows again—God +grant it!—next summer. And then how +the men will work! And what shouting there +will be at the sight of you! And what a harvest-home +we shall have!"</p> + +<p>And he caught her enthusiasm, and stood up +to try his feet, and felt sure that he walked +stronger, and would soon be down-stairs once +more. And Julius, whose eyes love did not +blind, felt a little scorn for those who could not +see such evident decay and dissolution. "It is +really criminal," he said to Sophia, "to encourage +hopes so palpably false." For Julius, like +all selfish persons, could perceive only one side +<a name="Page_267" id="Page_267"></a>of a question, the side that touched his own +side. It never entered his mind that the squire +was trying to cheer and encourage his wife and +daughter, and was privately quite aware of his +own condition. Sandal had not told him that +he had received "the token," the secret message +which every soul receives when the King +desires his presence. He had never heard +those solemn conversations which followed the +reading of "The Evening Service," when the +rector knelt by the side of his old friend, and +they two talked with Death as with a companion. +So, though Julius meddled much with +Sandal affairs, there was a life there into which +he never entered.</p> + +<p>One evening in October, Charlotte was walking +with Stephen. They had been to look at +the new building, for every inch of progress was +a matter of interest to them. As they came +through the village, they perceived that Farmer +Huet was holding his apple feast; for he was +carrying from his house into his orchard a +great bowl of spiced ale, and was followed by a +merry company, singing wassail as they poured +a little at the root of every tree:—</p><p><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268"></a></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">"Here's to thee, good apple-tree!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whence thou may'st bud, and whence thou may'st blow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whence thou may'st bear apples enou';<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Hats full, caps full,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Bushels full, sacks full.<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Hurrah, then! Hurrah, then!<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Here's to thee, good apple-tree!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>They waited a little to watch the procession +round the orchard; and as they stood, Julius +advanced from an opposite direction. He took +a letter from his pocket, which he had evidently +been to the mail to secure, for Charlotte +watched him break the seal as he approached; +and when he suddenly raised his head, and saw +her look of amazement, he made a little bravado +of the affair, and said, with an air of frankness, +"It is a letter from Harry. I thought it was +best for his letters not to come to the house. +The mail-bag might be taken to the squire's +room, and who knows what would happen if he +should see one of these," and he tapped the +letter significantly with his long pointed fore-finger.</p> + +<p>"You should not have made such an arrangement +as that, Julius, without speaking to +mother. It was cruel to Harry. Why should +<a name="Page_269" id="Page_269"></a>the villagers think that the sight of a letter +from him would be so dreadful to his own +people?"</p> + +<p>"I did it for the best, Charlotte. Of course, +you will misjudge me."</p> + +<p>"Ah! I know now why Polly Esthwaite +called you, 'such a nice, kind, thoughtful gentleman +as never was.' Is the letter for you?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Latrigg can examine the address if +you wish."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Latrigg distinctly refuses to look at the +letter. Come, Charlotte, the air is cold and +raw;" and with very scant courtesy they +parted.</p> + +<p>"What can it mean, Steve, Julius and Harry +in correspondence? I don't know what to +think of such a thing. Harry has only written +once to me since he went away. There is +something wrong in all this secrecy, you may +depend upon it."</p> + +<p>"I would not be suspicious, Charlotte. Harry +is affectionate and trusting. Julius has written +him letters full of sympathy and friendship; and +the poor fellow, cut off from home and kindred, +has been only too glad to answer. Perhaps we +should have written also."</p><p><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270"></a></p> + +<p>"But why did Julius take that trouble? Julius +always has a motive for what he does. I mean +a selfish motive. Has Harry written to you?"</p> + +<p>"Only a few lines the very day he left. I +have heard nothing since."</p> + +<p>The circumstance troubled Charlotte far beyond +its apparent importance. She could conceive +of no possible reason for Julius interfering +in Harry's life, and she had the feeling +of a person facing a danger in the dark. Julius +was also annoyed at her discovery. "It precipitates +matters," he said to Sophia, "and is +apparently an unlucky chance. But chance is +destiny, and this last letter of Harry's indicates +that all things are very nearly ready for me. +As for your sister, Charlotte Sandal, I think +she is the most interfering person I ever +knew."</p> + +<p>The air of the supper-table was one of reserve +and offence. Only Sophia twittered and +observed and wondered about all kinds of trivial +things. "Mother has so many headaches now. +Does she take proper care of herself, Charlotte? +She ought to take exercise. Julius and I never +neglect taking exercise. We think it a duty. +No time do you say? Mother ought to take +<a name="Page_271" id="Page_271"></a>time. Poor, dear father was never unreasonable; +he would wish mother to take time. What +tasteless custards, Charlotte! I don't think +Ann cares how she cooks now. When I was at +home, and the eldest daughter, she always liked +to have things nice. Julius, my dear one, can +you find any thing fit to eat?" And so on, +and so on, until Charlotte felt as if she must +scream, or throw a plate down, or fly beyond +the sight and sound of all things human.</p> + +<p>The next evening Julius announced his intention +of going abroad at once. "But I shall +leave Sophia to be a little society for mother, +and I shall not delay an hour beyond the time +necessary for travel and business." He spoke +with an air of conscious self-denial; and as +Charlotte did not express any gratitude he +continued, "Not that I expect any thanks, +Sophia and I, but fortunately we find duty is +its own reward."</p> + +<p>"Are you going to see Harry?"</p> + +<p>"I may do such a thing."</p> + +<p>"Is he sick?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"I hope he will not get sick while you are +there." And then some passionate impulse +<a name="Page_272" id="Page_272"></a>took possession of her; her face glowed like +a flame, and her eyes scintillated like sparks. +"If any thing happens Harry while you are +with him, I swear, by each separate Sandal +that ever lived, that you shall account for +it!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, you know, Sophia dear, this is too +much! Leave the table, my love. Your sister +must be"—and he tapped his forehead; while +Sophia, with a look of annihilating scorn, drew +her drapery tight around her, and withdrew.</p> + +<p>"What did I say? What do I think? What +terror is in my heart? Oh, Harry, Harry, +Harry!"</p> + +<p>She buried her face in her hands, and sat +lost in woful thought,—sat so long that +Phoebe the table-maid felt her delay to be +unkind and aggravating; especially when one of +the chamber-maids came down for her supper, +and informed the rulers of the servants' hall +that "Mrs. Julius was crying up-stairs about +Miss Charlotte falling out with her husband."</p> + +<p>"Mercy on us! What doings we have to +bide with!" and Ann shook her check apron, +and sat down with an air of nearly exhausted +patience.</p><p><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273"></a></p> + +<p>"You can't think what a taking Mr. Julius +is in. He's going away to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"For good and all?"</p> + +<p>"Not he. He'll be back again. He has had +a falling-out with Miss Charlotte."</p> + +<p>"Poor lass! Say what you will, she has +been hard set lately. I never knew nor heard +tell of her being flighty and fratchy before the +squire's trouble."</p> + +<p>"Good hearts are plenty in good times, Ann +Skelton. Miss Charlotte's temper is past all +the last few weeks, she is that off-and-on and +changeable like and spirity. Mrs. Julius says +she does beat all."</p> + +<p>"I don't pin my faith on what Mrs. Julius +says. Not I."</p> + +<p>In the east rooms the criticism was still +more severe. Julius railed for an hour ere he +finally decided that he never saw a more suspicious, +unladylike, uncharitable, unchristianlike +girl than Charlotte Sandal! "I am glad +to get away from her a little while," he cried; +"how can she be your sister, Sophia?"</p> + +<p>So glad was he to get away, that he left +before Charlotte came down in the morning. +Ann made him a cup of coffee, and received +<a name="Page_274" id="Page_274"></a>a shilling and some suave words, and was +quite sure after them that "Mr. Julius was +the finest gentleman that ever trod in shoe-leather." +And Julius was not above being +gratified with the approbation and good wishes +of servants; and it gave him pleasure to leave +in the little hurrah of their bows and courtesies, +their smiles and their good wishes.</p> + +<p>He went without delay straight to the small +Italian village in which Harry had made his +home. Harry's letters had prepared him for +trouble and poverty, but he had little idea of +the real condition of the heir of Sandal-Side. +A few bare rooms in some dilapidated palace, +grim with faded magnificence, comfortless and +dull, was the kind of place he expected. He +found him in a small cottage surrounded by a +barren, sandy patch of ground overgrown with +neglected vines and vagabond weeds. The +interior was hot and untidy. On a couch a +woman in the firm grip of consumption was +lying; an emaciated, feverish woman, fretful +with acute suffering. A little child, wan and +waxy-looking, and apparently as ill as its +mother, wailed in a cot by her side. Signor +Lanza was smoking under a fig-tree in the +<a name="Page_275" id="Page_275"></a>neglected acre, which had been a vineyard or +a garden. Harry had gone into the village for +some necessity; and when he returned Julius +felt a shock and a pang of regret for the +dashing young soldier squire that he had +known as Harry Sandal.</p> + +<p>He kissed his wife with passionate love and +sorrow, and then turned to Julius with that +mute look of inquiry which few find themselves +able to resist.</p> + +<p>"He is alive yet,—much better, he says; +and Charlotte thinks he may be in the fields +again next season."</p> + +<p>"Thank God! My poor Beatrice and her +baby! You see what is coming to them?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"And I am so poor I cannot get her the +change of air, the luxuries, the medicines, +which would at least prolong life, and make +death easy."</p> + +<p>"Go back with me to Sandal-Side, and see +the squire: he may listen to you now."</p> + +<p>"Never more! It was cruel of father to +take my marriage in such a way. He turned +my life's joy into a crime, cursed every hour +that was left me."</p><p><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276"></a></p> + +<p>"People used to be so intense—'a few +strong feelings,' as Mr. Wordsworth says—too +strong for ordinary life. We really can't afford +to love and hate and suffer in such a teetotal +way now; but the squire came from the +Middle Ages. This is a dreadfully hot place, +Harry."</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is. We were very much deceived in +it. I bought it; and we dreamed of vineyards +and milk and wine, and a long, happy, simple +life together. Nothing has prospered with us. +We were swindled in the house and land. The +signor knows nothing about vines. He was +born here, and wanted to come back and be a +great man." And as he spoke he laughed hysterically, +and took Julius into an inner room. +"I don't want Beatrice to hear that I am out +of money. She does not know I am destitute. +That sorrow, at least, I have kept from her."</p> + +<p>"Harry, I am going to make you a proposal. +I want to be kind and just to you. I want to +put you beyond the need of any one's help. +Answer me one question truly. If your father +dies, what will you do?"</p> + +<p>"You said he was getting better. For God's +sake, do not speak of his death."</p><p><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277"></a></p> + +<p>"I am supposing a case. You would then +be squire of Sandal-Side. Would you return +there with Beatrice?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, no! I know what those Dalesmen are. +My father's feelings were only their feelings +intensified by his relation to me. They would +look upon me as my father's murderer, and +Beatrice as an accessory to the deed."</p> + +<p>"Still you would be squire of Sandal-Side."</p> + +<p>"Mother would have to take my place, or +Charlotte. I have thought of that. I could +not bear to sit in father's chair, and go up and +down the house. I should see him always. I +should hear continually that awful cry with +which he fell. It fills, even here, all the spaces +of my memory and my dreams. I cannot go +back to Sandal-Side. Nothing could take me +back, not even my mother."</p> + +<p>"Then listen, I am the heir failing you."</p> + +<p>"No, no: there is my son Michael."</p> + +<p>Julius was stunned for a moment. "Oh, +yes! The child is a boy, then?"</p> + +<p>"It is a boy. What were you going to +say?"</p> + +<p>"I was going to ask you to sell your rights +to me for ten thousand pounds. It would be +<a name="Page_278" id="Page_278"></a>better for you to have a sum like that in your +hand at once, than to trust to dribbling remittances +sent now and then by women in charge. +You could invest that sum to noble purpose in +America, become a citizen of the country, and +found an American line, as my father has +founded an Indian one."</p> + +<p>"The poor little chap makes no difference. +He is only born to die. And I think your +offer is a good one. I am so worn out, and +things are really desperate with me. I never +can go back to England. I am sick to death +of Florence. There are places where Beatrice +might even yet recover. Yes, for her sake, I +will sell you my inheritance. Can I have the +money soon?"</p> + +<p>"This hour. I had the proper paper drawn +up before I came here. Read it over carefully. +See if you think it fair and honorable. If you +do, sign your name; and I will give you a +check you can cash here in Florence. Then +it will be your own fault if Beatrice wants +change of air, luxuries, and medicine."</p> + +<p>He laid the paper on the table, and Harry sat +down and pretended to read it. But he did not +understand any thing of the jargon. The +<a name="Page_279" id="Page_279"></a>words danced up and down. He could only +see "Beatrice," "freedom from care," "power to +get away from Florence," and the final thought, +the one which removed his last scruple, +"Lanza can have the cottage, and I shall be +clear of him forever."</p> + +<p>Without a word he went for a pen and ink, +and wrote his name boldly to the deed of relinquishment. +Then Julius handed him a +check for ten thousand pounds, and went with +him to the bank in order to facilitate the transfer +of the sum to Harry's credit. On the +street, in the hot sunshine, they stood a few +minutes.</p> + +<p>"You are quite satisfied, Harry?"</p> + +<p>"You have saved me from despair. Perhaps +you have saved Beatrice. I am grateful to +you."</p> + +<p>"Have I done justly and honorably by you?"</p> + +<p>"I believe you have."</p> + +<p>"Then good-by. I must hasten home. +Sophia will be anxious, and one never knows +what may happen."</p> + +<p>"Julius, one moment. Tell my mother to +pray for me. And the same word to Charlotte. +Poor Charley! Sophia"—</p><p><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280"></a></p> + +<p>"Sophia pities you very much, Harry. Sophia +feels as I do. We don't expect people to +cut their lives on a fifteenth-century pattern."</p> + +<p>Then Harry lifted his hat, and walked away, +with a shadow still of his old military, up-head +manner. And Julius looked after him with +contempt, and thought, "What a poor fellow he +is! Not a word for himself, or a plea for that +wretched little heir in his cradle. There are +some miserable kinds of men in this world. I +thank God I am not one of them!"</p> + +<p>And the wretched Esau, with the ten thousand +pounds in his pocket? Ah, God only +knew his agony, his shame, his longing, and +despair! He felt like an outcast. Yes, even +when he clasped Beatrice in his arms, with +promises of unstinted comforts; when she +kissed him, with tender words and tears of joy,—he +felt like an outcast.</p><p><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281"></a></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X.</h2> + +<h3>THE NEW SQUIRE.</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"><p> +"A word was brought,<br /> +Unto him,—the King himself desired his presence."</p> + +<p>"The mystery of life<br /> +He probes; and in the battling din of things<br /> +That frets the feeble ear, he seeks and finds<br /> +A harmony that tunes the dissonant strife<br /> +To sweetest music." +</p><br /></div> + + +<p>This year the effort to keep Christmas in +Seat-Sandal was a failure. Julius did not +return in time for the festival, and the squire +was unable to take any part in it. There had +been one of those sudden, mysterious changes +in his condition, marking a point in life from +which every step is on the down-hill road to +the grave. One day he had seemed even +better than usual; the next morning he looked +many years older. Lassitude of body and mind +had seized the once eager, sympathetic man; +he was weary of the struggle for life, and had +<i>given up</i>. This change occurred just before<a name="Page_282" id="Page_282"></a> +Christmas; and Charlotte could not help feeling +that the evergreens for the feast might, after +all, be the evergreens for the funeral.</p> + +<p>One snowy day between Christmas and New +Year, Julius came home. Before he said a +word to Sophia, she divined that he had succeeded +in his object. He entered the house +with the air of a master; and, when he heard +how rapidly the squire was failing, he congratulated +himself on his prudent alacrity in the matter. +The next morning he was permitted an +interview. "You have been a long time away, +Julius," said the squire languidly, and without +apparent interest in the subject.</p> + +<p>"I have been a long journey."</p> + +<p>"Ah! Where have you been? Eh?"</p> + +<p>"To Italy."</p> + +<p>The sick man flushed crimson, and his large, +thin hands quivered slightly. Julius noted the +change in him with some alarm; for, though it +was not perhaps actually necessary to have the +squire's signature to Harry's relinquishment, it +would be more satisfactory to obtain it. He +knew that neither Mrs. Sandal nor Charlotte +would dispute Harry's deed; but he wished not +only to possess Seat-Sandal, but also the good-will +<a name="Page_283" id="Page_283"></a>of the neighborhood, and for this purpose +he must show a clear, clean right to the succession. +He had explained the matter to Sophia, +and been annoyed at her want of enthusiasm. +She feared that any discussion relating to Harry +might seriously excite and injure her father, +and she could not bring herself to advise it. +But the disapproval only made Julius more +determined to carry out his own views; and +therefore, when the squire asked, "Where have +you been?" he told him the truth; and oh, how +cruel the truth can sometimes be!</p> + +<p>"I have been to Italy."</p> + +<p>"To see"—</p> + +<p>"Harry? Yes."</p> + +<p>Then, without waiting to inform himself as to +whether the squire wished the conversation +dropped or continued, he added, "He was in a +miserable condition,—destitute, with a dying +wife and child."</p> + +<p>"Child! Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, a son; a little chap, nothing but skin +and bone and black eyes,—an Italian Sandal."</p> + +<p>The squire was silent a few minutes; then he +asked in a slow, constrained voice, "What did +you do?"</p><p><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284"></a></p> + +<p>"Harry sent for me in order that we might +discuss a certain proposal he wished to make +me. I have accepted it—reluctantly accepted +it; but really it appeared the only way to help +him to any purpose."</p> + +<p>"What did Harry want? Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>"He wanted to go to America, and begin a +new life, and found a new house there; and, as +he had determined never under any circumstances +to visit Sandal-Side again, he asked me +to give him the money necessary for emigration."</p> + +<p>"Did you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I did."</p> + +<p>"For what? What equivalent could he give +you?"</p> + +<p>"He had nothing to give me but his right +of succession. I bought it for ten thousand +pounds. A sum of money like that ought to +give him a good start in America. I think, +upon the whole, he was very wise."</p> + +<p>"Harry Sandal sold my home and estate over +my head, while I was still alive, without a word +to me! God have mercy!"</p> + +<p>"Uncle, he never thought of it in that light, +I am sure."</p><p><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285"></a></p> + +<p>"That is what he did; sold it without a +thought as to what his mother's or sister's +wishes might be. Sold it away from his own +child. My God! The man is an immeasurable +scoundrel; and, Julius Sandal, you are +another."</p> + +<p>"Sir?"</p> + +<p>"Leave me. I am still master of Sandal. +Leave me. Leave my house. Do not enter it +again until my dead body has passed the +gates."</p> + +<p>"It will be right for you first to sign this +paper."</p> + +<p>"What paper? Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>"The deed of Harry's relinquishment. He +has my money. I look to your honor to secure +me."</p> + +<p>"You look the wrong road. I will sign no +such paper,—no, not for twenty years of life."</p> + +<p>He spoke sternly, but almost in a whisper. +The strain upon him was terrible; he was using +up the last remnants of his life to maintain it.</p> + +<p>"That you should sign the deed is only bare +honesty. I gave the money trusting to your +honesty."</p> + +<p>"I will not sign it. It would be a queer +<a name="Page_286" id="Page_286"></a>thing for me to be a partner in such a dirty job. +The right of succession to Sandal, barring Harry +Sandal, is not vested in you. It is in Harry's +son. Whoever his mother may be, the little +lad is heir of Sandal-Side; and I'll not be made +a thief in my last hours by you. That's a trick +beyond your power. Now, then, I'll waste no +more words on you, good, bad, or indifferent."</p> + +<p>He had, in fact, reached the limit of his +powers, and Julius saw it; yet he did not hesitate +to press his right to Sandal's signature by +every argument he thought likely to avail. +Sandal was as one that heard not, and fortunately +Mrs. Sandal's entrance put an end to the +painful interview.</p> + +<p>This was a sorrow the squire had never contemplated, +and it filled his heart with anxious +misery. He strove to keep calm, to husband +his strength, to devise some means of protecting +his wife's rights. "I must send for Lawyer +Moser: if there is any way out of this wrong, +he will know the right way," he thought. But +he had to rest a little ere he could give the +necessary prompt instructions. Towards noon +he revived, and asked eagerly for Stephen +Latrigg. A messenger was at once sent to<a name="Page_287" id="Page_287"></a> +Up-Hill. He found Stephen in the barn, where +the men were making the flails beat with a +rhythm and regularity as exhilarating as music. +Stephen left them at once; but, when he told +Ducie what word had been brought him, he was +startled at her look and manner.</p> + +<p>"I have been looking for this news all day: +I fear me, Steve, that the squire has come to +'the passing.' Last night I saw your grandfather."</p> + +<p>"Dreamed of him?"</p> + +<p>"Well, then, call it a dream. I saw your +grandfather. He was in this room; he was +sorting the papers he left; and, as I watched his +hands, he lifted his head and looked at me. I +have got my orders, I feel that. But wait not +now, I will follow you anon."</p> + +<p>In the "Seat" there was a distinct feeling +of consummating calamity. The servants had +come to a state of mind in which the expectation +was rather a relief. They were only +afraid the squire might rally again. In Mrs. +Sandal's heart there was that resentful resignation +which says to sorrow, "Do thy worst. I +am no longer able to resist, or even to plead." +Charlotte only clung to her dream of hope, +<a name="Page_288" id="Page_288"></a>and refused to be wakened from it. She was +sure her father had been worse many a time. +She was almost cross at Ducie's unusual visit.</p> + +<p>About four o'clock Steve had a long interview +with the squire. Charlotte walked restlessly +to and fro in the corridor; she heard +Steve's voice, strong and kind and solemn, +and she divined what promises he was making +to the dying man for herself and for her +mother. But even her love did not anticipate +their parting words,—</p> + +<p>"Farewell, Stephen. Yet one word more. +If Harry should come back—what of Harry? +Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>"I will stand by him. I will put my hand +in his hand, and my foot with his foot. They +that wrong Harry will wrong me, they that +shame Harry will shame me. I will never call +him less than a brother, as God hears me +speak."</p> + +<p>A light "that never was on sea or sky" +shone in Sandal's fast dimming eyes, and +irradiated his set gray countenance. "Stephen, +tell him at death's door I turned back to +forgive him—to bless him. I stretch—out—my +hand—to—him."</p><p><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289"></a></p> + +<p>At this moment Charlotte opened the door +softly, and waved Stephen towards her. "Your +mother is come, and she says she must see +the squire." And then, before Stephen could +answer, Ducie gently put them both aside. +"Wait in the corridor, my children," she said: +"none but God and Sandal must hear my +farewell." With the words, she closed the +door, and went to the dying man. He appeared +to be unconscious; but she took his +hand, stroked it kindly, and bending down +whispered, "William, William Sandal! Do +you know me?"</p> + +<p>"Surely it is Ducie. It is growing dark. +We must go home, Ducie. Eh? What?"</p> + +<p>"William, try and understand what I say. +You will go the happier to heaven for my +words." And, as they grew slowly into the +squire's apprehension, a look of amazement, of +gratitude, of intense satisfaction, transfigured +the clay for the last time. It seemed as if +the departing soul stood still to listen. He +was perfectly quiet until she ceased speaking; +then, in a strange, unearthly tone, he uttered +one word, "Happy." It was the last word that +ever parted his lips. Between shores he lingered +<a name="Page_290" id="Page_290"></a>until the next daybreak, and then the +loving watchers saw that the pallid wintry +light fell on the dead. How peaceful was the +large, worn face! How tranquil! How distant +from them! How grandly, how terribly +indifferent! To Squire William Sandal, all the +noisy, sorrowful controversies of earth had +grown suddenly silent.</p> + +<p>The reading of the squire's will made public +the real condition of affairs. Julius had spoken +with the lawyer previously, and made clear to +him his right in equity to stand in the heir's +place. But the squires and statesmen of the +Dales heard the substitution with muttered +dissents, or in a silence still more emphatic +of disapproval. Ducie and Mrs. Sandal and +Charlotte were shocked and astounded at the +revelation, and there was not a family in Sandal-Side +who had that night a good word for Julius +Sandal. He thought it very hard, and said +so. He had not forced Harry in any way. +He had taken no advantage of him. Harry +was quite satisfied with the exchange, and +what had other people to do with his affairs? +He did not care for their opinion. "That for +it!" and he snapped his fingers defiantly to +<a name="Page_291" id="Page_291"></a>every point of the compass. But, all the same, +he walked the floor of the east rooms nearly +all night, and kept Sophia awake to listen to +his complaints.</p> + +<p>Sophia was fretful and sleepy, and not as +sympathetic with "the soul that halved her +own," as centuries of fellow-feeling might have +claimed; but she had her special worries. She +perceived, even thus early, that as long as the +late squire's widow was in the Seat, her own +authority would be imperfect. "Of course, she +did not wish to hurry her mother; but she would +feel, in her place, how much more comfortable +for all a change would be. And mother had +her dower-house in the village; a very comfortable +home, quite large enough for Charlotte +and herself and a couple of maids, which was +certainly all they needed."</p> + +<p>Where did such thoughts and feelings spring +from? Were they lying dormant in her heart +that summer when the squire drove home his +harvest, and her mother went joyfully up and +down the sunny old rooms, always devising +something for her girls' comfort or pleasures? +In those days how proud Sophia had been of +her father and mother! What indignation she +<a name="Page_292" id="Page_292"></a>would have felt had one suggested that the time +was coming when she would be glad to see a +stranger in her father's place, and feel impatient +to say to her mother, "Step down lower; I +would be mistress in your room"! Alas! there +are depths in the human heart we fear to look +into; for we know that often all that is necessary +to assuage a great grief, or obliterate a +great loss, is the inheritance of a fine mansion, +or a little money, or a few jewels, or even a rich +garment. And as soon as the squire was in his +grave, Julius and Sophia began to discuss the +plans which only a very shallow shame had +made them reticent about before.</p> + +<p>Indeed, it soon became necessary for others, +also, to discuss the future. People soon grow +unwelcome in a house that is not their own; +and the new squire of Sandal-Side was eager to +so renovate and change the place that it would +cease to remind him of his immediate predecessors. +The Sandals of past centuries were welcome, +they gave dignity to his claims; but the +last squire, and his son Harry Sandal, only +reminded him of circumstances he felt it more +comfortable to forget. So, during the long, +dreary days of midwinter, he and Sophia occupied +<a name="Page_293" id="Page_293"></a>themselves very pleasantly in selecting +styles of furniture, and colors of draperies, and +in arranging for a full suite of Oriental rooms, +which were to perpetuate in pottery and lacquerware, +Indian bronzes and mattings, Chinese +screens and cabinets, the Anglo-Indian possessor +of the old Cumberland estate.</p> + +<p>Even pending these alterations, others were +in progress. Every family arrangement was +changed in some respect. The hour for breakfast +had been fixed at what Julius called a civilized +time. This, of course, delayed every +other meal; yet the servants, who had grumbled +at over-work under the old authority, had not a +complaint to make under the new. For the +present master and mistress of Sandal were not +people who cared for complaints. "If you can +do the work, Ann, you may stay," said Sophia +to the dissatisfied cook; "if not, the squire will +pay you your due wages. He has a friend in +London whose cook would like a situation in +the country." After which explanation Ann +behaved herself admirably, and never found her +work hard, though dinner was two hours later, +and the supper dishes were not sent in until +eleven o'clock.</p><p><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294"></a></p> + +<p>But, though Julius had succeeded in bringing +his table so far within his own ideas of comfort, +in other respects he felt his impotence to order +events. Every meal-time brought him in contact +with the widow Sandal and with Charlotte; +and neither Sophia, nor yet himself, had felt +able to request the late mistress to resign her +seat at the foot of the table. And Sophia soon +began to think it unkind of her mother not to +see the position, and voluntarily amend it. "I +do really think mother might have some consideration +for me, Julius," she complained. "It +puts me in such a very peculiar position not +to take my place at my own table; and it is so +trying and perplexing for the servants,—making +them feel as if there were two mistresses."</p> + +<p>"And always the calm, scornful face of your +sister Charlotte at her side. Do you notice +with what ostentatious obedience and attention +she devotes herself to your mother?"</p> + +<p>"She thinks that she is showing me my duty, +Julius. But people have some duties toward +themselves."</p> + +<p>"And towards their husbands."</p> + +<p>"Certainly. I thank Heaven I have always +put my husband first." And she really glanced +<a name="Page_295" id="Page_295"></a>upwards with the complacent air of one who +expected Heaven to imitate men, and "praise +her for doing well unto herself."</p> + +<p>"This state of things cannot go on much +longer, Sophia."</p> + +<p>"Certainly it cannot. Mother must look +after her own house soon."</p> + +<p>"I would speak to her to-day, Sophia. She +has had six weeks now to arrange her plans, +and next month I want to begin and put the +house into decent condition. I think I will +write to London this afternoon, and tell Jeffcott +to send the polishers and painters on the 15th +of March."</p> + +<p>"Mother is so slow about things, I don't +think she will be ready to move so early."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I really can't stand them any longer! +I can't indeed, Sophia, and I won't. I did not +marry your mother and sister, nor yet buy them +with the place. Your mother has her recognized +rights in the estate, and she has a dower-house +to which to retire; and the sooner she +goes there now, the better. You may tell her +I say so."</p> + +<p>"You may as well tell her yourself, Julius."</p> + +<p>"Do you wish me to be insulted by your sister<a name="Page_296" id="Page_296"></a> +Charlotte again? It is too bad to put me +in such a position. I cannot punish two women, +even for such shameful innuendos as I had to +take when she sat at the head of the table. +You ought to reflect, too, that the rooms they +occupy are the best rooms in the house,—the +master's rooms. I am going to have the oak +walls polished, in order to bring out the carvings; +and I think we will choose green and +white for the carpets and curtains. The present +furniture is dreadfully old-fashioned, and +horribly full of old memories."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, I shall give mother to understand +that we expect to make these changes +very soon."</p> + +<p>"Depend upon it, the sooner your mother +and Charlotte go to their own house, the better +for all parties. For, if we do not insist upon it, +they will stay and stay, until that Latrigg young +man has his house finished. Then Charlotte +will expect to be married from here, and we +shall have all the trouble and expense of the +affair. Oh, I tell you, Sophia, I see through +the whole plan! But reckoning without me, +and reckoning with me, are different things."</p> + +<p>This conversation took place after a most +<a name="Page_297" id="Page_297"></a>unpleasant lunch. Julius had come to it in a +fretful, hypercritical mood. He had been calculating +what his proposed changes would cost, +and the sum total had given him a slight shock. +He was like many extravagant people, subject +to passing spells of almost contemptible economy; +and at that hour the proposed future outlay +of thousands did not trouble him so much +as the actual penny-half-penny value of his +mother-in-law's lunch.</p> + +<p>He did not say so, but in some way the feeling +permeated the table. The widow pushed +her plate aside, and sipped her glass of wine in +silence. Charlotte took a pettish pleasure in +refusing what she felt she was unwelcome to. +Both left the table before Julius and Sophia had +finished their meal; and both, as soon as they +reached their rooms, turned to each other with +faces hot with indignation, and hearts angry +with a sense of shameful unkindness.</p> + +<p>Charlotte spoke first. "What is to be done, +mother? I cannot see you insulted, meal after +meal, in this way. Let us go at once. I have +told you it would come to this. We ought to +have moved immediately,—just as soon as +Julius came here as master."</p><p><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298"></a></p> + +<p>"My house in the village has been empty for +three years. It is cold and damp. It needs +attention of every kind. If we could only stay +here until Stephen's house was finished: then +you could be married."</p> + +<p>"O mother dear, that is not possible! You +know Steve and I cannot marry until father has +been dead at least a year. It would be an insult +to father to have a wedding in his mourning +year."</p> + +<p>"If your father knows any thing, Charlotte, +he knows the trouble we are in. He would +count it no insult."</p> + +<p>"But all through the Dales it would be a +shame to us. Steve and I would not like to +begin life with the ill words or ill thoughts of +our neighbors."</p> + +<p>"What shall I do? Charlotte, dear, what +shall I do?"</p> + +<p>"Let us go to our own home. Better to +brave a little damp and discomfort than constant +humiliation."</p> + +<p>"This is my home, my own dear home! It +is full of memories of your father and Harry."</p> + +<p>"O mother, I should think you would want +to forget Harry!"</p><p><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299"></a></p> + +<p>"No, no, no! I want to remember him every +hour of the day and night. How could I pray +for him, if I forgot him? Little you know how +a mother loves, Charlotte. His father forgave +him: shall I be less pitiful?—I, who nursed him +at my breast, and carried him in my arms."</p> + +<p>Charlotte did not answer. She was touched +by her mother's fidelity, and she found in her +own heart a feeling much akin to it. Their +conversation reverted to their unhappy position, +and to the difficulty of making an immediate +change. For not only was the dower-house in +an untenantable state, but the weather was very +much against them. The gray weather, the +gloomy sky, the monotonous rains, the melting +snow, the spiteful east wind,—by all this enmity +of the elements, as well as by the enmity +in the household, the poor bereaved lady was +saddened and controlled.</p> + +<p>The wretched conversation was followed by a +most unhappy silence. Both hearts were brooding +over their slights and wrongs. Day by day +Charlotte's life had grown harder to bear. Sophia's +little flaunts and dissents, her astonishments +and corrections, were almost as cruel as +the open hatred of Julius, his silence, his lowering +<a name="Page_300" id="Page_300"></a>brows, and insolence of proprietorship. To +these things she had to add the intangible contempt +of servants, and the feeling of constraint +in the house where she had been the beloved +child and the one in authority. Also she found +the insolence which Stephen had to brave every +time he called upon her just as difficult to bear +as were her own peculiar slights. Julius had +ceased to recognize him, had ceased to speak of +him except as "that person." Every visit he +made Charlotte was the occasion of some petty +impertinence, some unmistakable assurance +that his presence was offensive to the master +of Seat-Sandal.</p> + +<p>All these things troubled the mother also, +but her bitterest pang was the cruelty of Sophia. +A slow, silent process of alienation had been +going on in the girl ever since her engagement +to Julius: it had first touched her thoughts, +then her feelings; now its blighting influence +had deteriorated her whole nature. And in her +mother's heart there were sad echoes of that +bitter cry that comes down from age to age, +"Oh, my son Absalom, Absalom! My son, my +son!"</p> + +<p>"O Sophia! oh, my child, my child! How +<a name="Page_301" id="Page_301"></a>can you treat me so? What have I done?" +She was murmuring such words to herself when +the door was opened, and Sophia entered. It +was characteristic of the woman that she did +not knock ere entering. She had always jealously +guarded her rights to the solitude of her +own room; and, even when she was a school-girl, +it had been an understood household regulation +that no one was to enter it without knocking. +But now that she was mistress of all the rooms +in Seat-Sandal, she ignored the simple courtesy +towards others. Consequently, when she entered, +she saw the tears in her mother's eyes. +They only angered her. "Why should the +sorrows of others darken her happy home?" +Sophia was one of those women whom long +regrets fatigue. As for her father, she reflected, +"that he had been well nursed, decorously +buried, and that every propriety had +been attended to. It was, in her opinion, high +time that the living—Julius and herself—should +be thought of." The stated events of +life—its regular meals, its trivial pleasures—had +quite filled any void in her existence made +by her father's death. If he had come back to +earth, if some one had said to her, "He is here,"<a name="Page_302" id="Page_302"></a> +she would have been far more embarrassed than +delighted. The worldly advantages built upon +the extinction of a great love! Sophia could +contemplate them without a blush.</p> + +<p>She came forward, shivering slightly, and +stirred the fire. "How cold and dreary you +are! Mother, why don't you cheer up and do +something? It would be better for you than +moping on the sofa."</p> + +<p>"Suppose Julius had died six weeks ago, +would you think of 'cheering up,' Sophia?"</p> + +<p>"Charlotte, what a shameful thing to say!"</p> + +<p>"Precisely what you have just said to +mother."</p> + +<p>"Supposing Julius dead! I never heard +such a cruel thing. I dare say it would delight +you."</p> + +<p>"No, it would not; for Julius is not fit to +die."</p> + +<p>"Mother, I will not be insulted in my own +house in such a way. Speak to Charlotte, or +I must tell Julius."</p> + +<p>"What have you come to say, Sophia?"</p> + +<p>"I came to talk pleasantly, to see you, +and"—</p> + +<p>"You saw me an hour or two since, and +<a name="Page_303" id="Page_303"></a>were very rude and unkind. But if you regret +it, my dear, it is forgiven."</p> + +<p>"I do not know what there is to forgive. +But really, Charlotte and you seem so completely +unhappy and dissatisfied here, that I +should think you would make a change."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean that you wish me to go?"</p> + +<p>"If you put words into my mouth."</p> + +<p>"It is not worth while affecting either regret +or offence, Sophia. How soon do you wish us +to leave?"</p> + +<p>The dowager mistress of Sandal-Side had +stood up as she asked the question. She was +quite calm, and her manner even cold and +indifferent. "If you wish us to go to-day, it +is still possible. I can walk as far as the +rectory. For your father's sake, the rector +will make us welcome.—Charlotte, my bonnet +and cloak!"</p> + +<p>"Mother! I think such threats very uncalled +for. What will people say? And how +can poor Julius defend himself against two +ladies? I call it taking advantage of us."</p> + +<p>"'Taking advantage?' Oh, no! Oh, no!—Charlotte, +my dear, give me my cloak."</p> + +<p>The little lady was not to be either frightened +<a name="Page_304" id="Page_304"></a>or entreated; and she deigned Julius—who +had been hastily summoned by Sophia—no +answer, either to his arguments or his +apologies.</p> + +<p>"It is enough," she cried, with a slight +quiver in her voice, "it is enough! You turn +me out of the home he gave me. Do you +think that the dead see not? know not? +You will find out, you will find out." And so, +leaning upon Charlotte's arm, she walked +slowly down the stairway, and into the dripping, +soaking, gloomy afternoon. It was indeed +wretched weather. A thick curtain of mist +filled all the atmosphere, and made of daylight +only a diluted darkness, in which it was hard +to distinguish the skeletons of the trees which +winter had stripped. The mountains had disappeared; +there was no sky; a veil of chilling +moisture and depressing gloom was over every +thing. But neither Charlotte nor her mother +was at that hour conscious of such inoffensive +disagreeables. They were trembling with +anger and sorrow. In a moment such a great +event had happened, one utterly unconceived +of, and unprepared for. Half an hour previous, +the unhappy mother had dreaded the +<a name="Page_305" id="Page_305"></a>breaking away from her old life, and had +declined to discuss with Charlotte any plan +tending to such a consummation. Then, suddenly, +she had taken a step more decided and +unusual than had ever entered Charlotte's +mind.</p> + +<p>The footpath through the park was very +wet and muddy. Every branch dropped water. +They were a little frightened at what they +were doing, and their hearts were troubled by +many complex emotions. But fortunately the +walk was a short one, and the shortest way +to the rectory lay directly through the churchyard. +Without a word Mrs. Sandal took it; +and without a word she turned aside at a +certain point, and through the long, rank, +withered grasses walked straight to the squire's +grave. It was yet quite bare; the snow had +melted away, and it had a look as desolate as +her own heart. She stood a few minutes +speechless by its side; but the painfully tight +clasp in which she held Charlotte's hand expressed +better than any words could have done +the tension of feeling, the passion of emotion, +which dominated her. And Charlotte felt that +silence was her mother's safety. If she spoke, +<a name="Page_306" id="Page_306"></a>she would weep, perhaps break down completely, +and be unable to reach the shelter of +the rectory.</p> + +<p>The rector was walking about his study. +He saw the two female forms passing through +the misty graveyard, and up to his own front +door; but that they were Mrs. Sandal and +Charlotte Sandal, was a supposition beyond the +range of his life's probabilities. So, when they +entered his room, he was for the moment astounded; +but how much more so, when Charlotte, +seeing her mother unable to frame a +word, said, "We have come to you for shelter +and protection"!</p> + +<p>Then Mrs. Sandal began to sob hysterically; +and the rector called his housekeeper, and the +best rooms were quickly opened and warmed, +and the sorrowful, weary lady lay down to +rest in their comfort and seclusion. Charlotte +did not find their friend as unprepared for +the event as she supposed likely. Private matters +sift through the public mind in a way beyond +all explanation, and "There had been a +general impression," he said, "that the late +squire's widow was very ill done to by the new +squire."</p><p><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307"></a></p> + +<p>Charlotte did not spare the new squire. All +his petty ways of annoying her mother and herself +and Stephen; all his small economies about +their fire and food and comforts; all his scornful +contempt for their household ways and traditions; +all that she knew regarding his purchase +of Harry's rights, and its ruthless revelation to +her dying father,—all that she knew wrong of +Julius, she told. It was a relief to do it. While +he had been their guest, and afterwards while +they had been his guests, her mouth had been +closed. Week after week she had suffered in +silence. The long-restrained tide of wrong +flowed from her lips with a strange, pathetic +eloquence; and, as the rector held her hands, +his own were wet with her fast-falling tears. +At last she laid her head against his shoulder, +and wept as if her heart would break. "He +has been our ruin," she cried, "our evil angel. +He has used Harry's folly and father's goodness +and Sophia's love—all of them—for his +own selfish ends."</p> + +<p>"He is a bad one. He should be hanged, +and cheap at it! Hear him, talking of having +lived so often! God have mercy! He is not +worthy of one life, let alone of two."</p><p><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308"></a></p> + +<p>At this juncture, Julius himself entered the +room. Neither of its occupants had heard his +arrival, and he saw Charlotte in the abandon of +her grief and anger. She would have risen, but +the rector would not let her. "Sit still, Charlotte," +he said. "He has done his do, and +you need not fear him any more. And dry +your tears, my dearie; learn while you are +young to squander nothing, not even grief." +Then he turned to Julius, and gave him one of +those looks which go through all disguises into +the shoals and quicksands of the heart; such a +look as that with which the tamer of wild beasts +controls his captive.</p> + +<p>"Well, squire, what want you?"</p> + +<p>"I want justice, sir. I am come here to +defend myself."</p> + +<p>"Very well, I am here to listen."</p> + +<p>Self-justification is a vigorous quality: Julius +spoke with eloquence, and with a superficial show +of right. The rector heard him patiently, offering +no comment, and permitting no disputation. +But, when Julius was finished, he answered with +a certain stern warmth, "Say what you will, +squire, you and I are of two ways of thinking. +You are in the wrong, and you will be hard set +<a name="Page_309" id="Page_309"></a>to prove yourself in the right; and that is as +true as gospel."</p> + +<p>"I am, at least, a gentleman, rector; and +I know how to treat gentlewomen."</p> + +<p>"Gentle-man! Gentle-sinner, let me say! +Will Satan care whether you be a peasant, or a +star-and-garter gentleman? Tut, tut! in my +office I know nothing about gentlemen. There +are plenty of gentlemen with Beelzebub; and +they will ring all eternity for a drop of water, +and never find a servant to answer them."</p> + +<p>"Sir, though you are a clergyman, you +have no right to speak to me in such a manner."</p> + +<p>"Because I am a clergyman, I have the right. +If I see a man sleeping while the Devil rocks +his cradle, have I not the right to say to him, +'Wake up, you are in danger'? Let me tell +you, squire, you have committed more than one +sin. Go home, and confess them to God and +man. Above all, turn down a leaf in your Bible +where a fool once asked, 'Who is my neighbor?' +Keep it turned down, until you have +answered the question better than you have been +doing it lately."</p> + +<p>"None of my neighbors can say wrong of me.<a name="Page_310" id="Page_310"></a> +I have always done my duty to them. I have +paid every one what I owe"—</p> + +<p>"Not enough, squire; not enough. Follow +on, as Hosea says, to love them. Don't always +give them the white, and keep the yolk for +yourself. You know your duty. Haste you +back home, then, and do it."</p> + +<p>"I will not be put off in such a way, sir. +You must interfere in this matter: make these +silly women behave themselves. I cannot have +the whole country-side talking of my affairs."</p> + +<p>"Me interfere! No, no! I am not in your +livery, squire; and I won't fight your quarrels. +Sir, my time is engaged."</p> + +<p>"I have a right"—</p> + +<p>"My time is engaged. It is my hour for +reading the Evening Service. Stay and hear +it, if you desire. But it is a bad neighborhood, +where a man can't say his prayers quietly." +And he stood up, walked slowly to his reading-desk, +and began to turn the leaves of the Book +of Common Prayer.</p> + +<p>Then Julius went out in a passion, and the +rector muttered, "The Devil may quote Scripture, +but he does not like to hear it read. Come, +Charlotte, let us thank God, thank him twice, +<a name="Page_311" id="Page_311"></a>nay, thrice, not alone for the faith of Christ +Jesus, but also for the legacy of Christ Jesus. +Oh, child, amid earth's weary restlessness and +noisy quarrels, how rich a legacy,"—</p> + +<p>"'Peace I leave with you. My peace I give +unto you.'"</p><p><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312"></a></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI.</h2> + +<h3>SANDAL AND SANDAL.</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Time will discover every thing; it is a babbler, and speaks even +when no question is put."</p> + +<p>"Run, spindles! Run, and weave the threads of doom." +</p><br /></div> + + +<p>Next morning very early, Stephen had a +letter from Charlotte. He was sitting at +breakfast with Ducie when the rector's boy +brought it; and it came, as great events generally +come, without any premonition or heralding +circumstance. Ducie was pouring out +coffee; and she went on with her employment, +thinking, not of the letter Stephen was opening, +but of the malt, and of the condition of the +brewing-boiler. An angry exclamation from +Stephen made her lift her eyes to his face. +"My word, Stephen, you are put out! What's +to do?"</p> + +<p>"Julius has turned Mrs. Sandal and Charlotte +from house and home, yesterday afternoon. +They are at the rectory. I am going, mother."</p><p><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313"></a></p> + +<p>"Stop a moment, Steve. This is now my +affair."</p> + +<p>Stephen looked at his mother with amazement. +Her countenance, her voice, her whole +manner, had suddenly changed. An expression +of angry purpose was in her wide-open eyes and +firm mouth, as she asked, "Can you or Jamie, +or any of the men, drive me to Kendal?"</p> + +<p>"To-day?"</p> + +<p>"I want to leave within an hour."</p> + +<p>"The rain down-pours; and it is like to be +worse yet, if the wind does not change."</p> + +<p>"If it were ten times worse, I must to Kendal. +I am much to blame that I have let +weather stop me so far and so long. While +Dame Nature was busy about her affairs, I +should have been minding mine. Deary me, +deary me!"</p> + +<p>"If you are for Kendal, then I will drive. +The cart-road down the fell is too bad to trust +you with any one but myself. Can we stop a +moment at the rectory on our road?"</p> + +<p>"We can stop a goodish bit. I have a deal +to say to the parson. Have the tax-cart ready +in half an hour; for there will be no betterness +in the weather until the moon—God bless her!—is +<a name="Page_314" id="Page_314"></a>full round; and things are past waiting +for now."</p> + +<p>In twenty minutes Ducie was ready. The +large cloak and hood of the Daleswoman +wrapped her close. She was almost indistinguishable +in its folds. The rector met her with +a little irritation. It was very early to be disturbed, +and he thought her visit would refer, +doubtless, to some trivial right between her +son and Charlotte Sandal; besides which, he +had made up his mind to discuss the Sandal +affairs with no one.</p> + +<p>But Ducie had spoken but a few moments +before a remarkable change took place in his +manner. He was bending eagerly forward, +listening to her half-whispered words with the +greatest interest and amazement. As she proceeded, +he could scarcely control his emotion; +and very soon all other expressions were lost in +one of a satisfaction that was almost triumph.</p> + +<p>"I will keep them here until you return," he +answered; "but let me tell you, Ducie, you +have been less quick to do right than I thought +of you."</p> + +<p>"The fell has been a hard walk for an old +woman, the cart-road nearly impassable until +<a name="Page_315" id="Page_315"></a>this rain washed away the drifts; but I did not +neglect my duty altogether, neither, parson. +Moser was written to six weeks since, and he +has been at work. Maybe, after all, no time +has been lost. I'll away now, if you will call +Stephen. Don't let Mrs. Sandal 'take on' +more than you can help;" and, as Stephen +lifted the reins, "You think it best to bring all +here?"</p> + +<p>"Far away best. God speed you!" He +watched them out of sight,—his snowy hair +and strong face and black garments making +a vivid picture in the misty, drippy doorway,—and +then, returning to his study, he began +his daily walk up and down its carpeted length, +with a singularly solemn elation. Ere long, the +thoughtful stride was accompanied by low, musical +mutterings, dropping from his lips in such +majestic cadences that his steps involuntarily +fell to their music in a march-like rhythm.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Daughter of Justice, wronged Nemesis,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou of the awful eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose silent sentence judgeth mortal life,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou with the curb of steel,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which proudest jaws must feel,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stayest the snort and champ of human strife.<br /></span><p><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316"></a></p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Under thy wheel unresting, trackless, all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our joys and griefs befall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In thy full sight our secret things go on;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Step after step, thy wrath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Follows the caitiff's path,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in his triumph breaks his vile neck bone.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To all alike, thou meetest out their due,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cubit for cubit, inch for inch,—stern, true."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>At the word "true" he paused a moment, and +touched with his finger an old black volume +on one of the book-shelves. "'Stern, true,' +whether Euripides says 'cubit for cubit,' or +Moses 'an eye for an eye,' or Solomon that +'he that troubleth his own house shall inherit +the wind.' Stern, true; for surely that which +a man sows he shall also reap."</p> + +<p>After a while he went up-stairs and talked +with Mrs. Sandal and Charlotte. They were +much depressed and very anxious, and had +what Charlotte defined "a homeless feeling." +"But you must be biddable, Charlotte," said +the rector; "you must remain here until Stephen +returns. Ducie had business that could +not wait, and who but Stephen should drive +her? When he comes back, we will all look to +it. You shall not be very long out of your own +<a name="Page_317" id="Page_317"></a>home; and, in the mean time, how welcome you +are here!"</p> + +<p>"It seems such a weary time, sir; so many +months that we have been in trouble."</p> + +<p>"It was all night long, once, with some tired, +fearful ones 'toiling in rowing;' but in the +fourth watch came Christ and help to them. +It is nigh hand—the 'fourth watch'—with you; +so be cheerful."</p> + +<p>Yet it was the evening of the sixth day before +Ducie and Stephen returned. It was still raining +heavily, and Ducie only waited a moment +or two at the rectory gate. Charlotte was +amazed to see the old clergyman hasten through +the plashing shower to speak to her. "Surely +Ducie's business must have a great deal of interest +to the rector, mother: he has gone out +to speak to her, and such weather too."</p> + +<p>"Ducie was always a favorite with him. I +hope, now that her affairs have been attended +to, ours may receive some care."</p> + +<p>Charlotte answered only by a look of sympathy. +It had seemed to her a little hard that +their urgent need must wait upon Ducie's business; +that Stephen should altogether leave +them in their extremity; that her anxious inquiries +<a name="Page_318" id="Page_318"></a>and suggestions, her plans and efforts +about their new home, should have been so +coldly received, and so positively put aside until +Ducie and Stephen came back. And she had +a pang of jealousy when she saw the rector, +usually so careful of his health, hasten with +slippered feet and uncovered head, through the +wet, chilling atmosphere, to speak to them.</p> + +<p>He came back with a radiant face, however, +and Charlotte could hear him moving about his +study; now rolling out a grand march of musical +Greek syllables from Homer or Euripides, anon +breaking into some familiar verse of Christian +song. And, when tea was served, he went up-stairs +for the ladies, and escorted them to the +table with a manner so beaming and so happily +predictive that Charlotte could not but catch +some of its hopeful spirit.</p> + +<p>Just as they sat down to the tea-table, the +wet, weary travellers reached Up-Hill. With a +sigh of pleasure and content, Ducie once more +passed into its comfortable shelter; and never +had it seemed to her such a haven of earthly +peace. Her usually placid face bore marks of +strong emotion; she was physically tired; and +Stephen was glad to see her among the white +<a name="Page_319" id="Page_319"></a>fleeces of his grandfather's big chair, with her +feet outstretched to the blazing warmth of the +fire, and their cosey tea-service by her side. +Always reticent with him, she had been very +tryingly so on their journey. No explanation +of it had been given; and he had been permitted +to pass his time among the looms in Ireland's +mill, while she and the lawyer were occupied +about affairs to which even his signature was +not asked.</p> + +<p>As they sat together in the evening, she caught +his glance searching her face tenderly; and she +bent forward, and said, "Kiss me, Stephen, my +dear lad. I have seen this week how kind and +patient, how honorable and trustful, thou art. +Well, then, the hour has come that will try thy +love to the uttermost. But wise or unwise, all +that has been done has been done with good +intent, and I look for no word to pain me from +thy mouth. Stephen, what is thy name?"</p> + +<p>"Stephen Latrigg."</p> + +<p>"Nay, but it isn't."</p> + +<p>Stephen blushed vividly; his mother's face +was white and calm. "I would rather be +called Latrigg than—the other name, than +by my father's name."</p><p><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320"></a></p> + +<p>"Has any one named thy father to thee?"</p> + +<p>"Charlotte told me what you and she said on +the matter. She understood his name to be +Pattison. We were wondering if our marriage +could be under my adopted name, that was all, +and things like it."</p> + +<p>Ducie was watching his handsome face as he +spoke, and feeling keenly the eager deprecation +of pain to herself, mingling with the natural +curiosity about his own identity, which the +cloud upon his early years warranted. She +looked at him steadily, with eyes shining +brightly through tears.</p> + +<p>"Your name is not Pattison, neither is it +Latrigg. When you marry Charlotte Sandal, +it must be by your own true name; and that +is Stephen Sandal."</p> + +<p>"Stephen Sandal, mother?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. You are the son of Launcelot Sandal, +the late squire's eldest brother."</p> + +<p>"Then, mother, then I am—What am I, +mother?"</p> + +<p>"You are squire of Sandal-Side and Torver. +No living man but you has a right to the name, +or the land, or to Seat-Sandal."</p> + +<p>"I should have known this before, mother."</p><p><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321"></a></p> + +<p>"I think not. We had, father and I, what +we believed good reasons, and kind reasons, for +holding our peace. But times and circumstances +have changed; and, where silence was +once true friendship and kindness, it is now +wrong and cruelty. Many years ago, Stephen, +when I was young and beautiful, Launcelot +Sandal loved me. And my father and Launcelot's +father loved each other as David and Jonathan +loved. They were scarcely happy apart; +and not even to please the proud mistress Charlotte, +would the squire loosen the grip of heart +and hand between them. But your father was +more under his mother's influence: proud lad +as he was, he feared her; and when she discovered +his love for me, there was such a scene +between them as no man will go through twice +in his lifetime. I have no excuse to make +for marrying him secretly except the old, old +one, Stephen. I loved him, loved him as +women have loved, and will love, from the beginning +to the end of time."</p> + +<p>"Dear mother, there was no wrong in that. +But why did you let the world think you loved +a man beneath you? an uneducated shepherd +like my reputed father? That wronged not +<a name="Page_322" id="Page_322"></a>only you, but those behind and those after +you."</p> + +<p>"We were afraid of many things, and we +wished to spare the friendship between our +fathers. There were many other reasons, +scarcely worth repeating now."</p> + +<p>"And what became of the shepherd?"</p> + +<p>"He was not Cumberland born. He came +from the Cheviot Hills, and was always fretting +for the border life: so he gladly fell in with the +proposal your father made him. One summer +morning he said he was going to herd the lambs +on Latrigg Fell, but he went to Egremont. +Your father had gone there a week before; but +he came back that night, and met me at Ravenglass. +We were married in Egremont church, +by Parson Sellafield, and went to Whitehaven, +where we lived quietly and happily for many a +week. Pattison witnessed our marriage, and +then, with gold in his pocket, took the border +road. He went to Moffat and wed the girl he +loved, and has been shepherding on Loch Fell +ever since."</p> + +<p>"He is alive, then?"</p> + +<p>"He is at the Salutation Inn at Ambleside +to-night. So, also, is Parson Sellafield, and the +<a name="Page_323" id="Page_323"></a>man and woman with whom we staid in Whitehaven, +and in whose house you were born and +lived until your fourth year. They are called +Chisholm, and have been at Up-Hill many +times."</p> + +<p>"I remember them."</p> + +<p>"And I did not intend that they should forget +you."</p> + +<p>"I have always heard that Launcelot Sandal +was drowned."</p> + +<p>"You have always heard that your father was +drowned? That was near by the truth. While +in Whitehaven, he wrote to his brother Tom, who +was living and doing well in India. When his +answer came, we determined to go to Calcutta; +but I was not in a state of health fit for such a +journey as that then was. So it was decided that +your father should go first, and get a home ready +for me. He left in the 'Lady Liddel,' and she +was lost at sea. Your father was in an open +boat for many days, and died of exhaustion."</p> + +<p>"Who told you so, mother?"</p> + +<p>"The captain lived to reach his home again, +and he brought me his watch and ring and last +message. He never saw your face, my lad, +he never saw your face."</p><p><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324"></a></p> + +<p>A silence of some minutes ensued. Ducie +had long ceased to weep for her dead love, but +he was unforgotten. Her silence was not oblivion: +it was a sanctuary where lights were +burning round the shrine, over which the wings +of affection were folded.</p> + +<p>"When my father was gone, then you came +back to Up-Hill?"</p> + +<p>"No: I did not come back until you were in +your fourth year. Then my mother died, and +I brought you home. At the first moment you +went straight to your grandfather's heart; and +that night, as you lay asleep upon his knee, I +told him the truth, as I tell it to you this night. +And he said to me, 'Ducie, things have settled +a bit lately. The squire has got over his trouble +about Launcie; and young William is the acknowledged +heir, and the welcome heir. He is +going to marry Alice Morecombe at the long +last, but it will make a big difference if Launcelot's +son steps in where nobody wants him. +Now, then,' he said, 'I will tell thee a far better +way. We will give this dear lad my own name, +none better in old Cumbria; and we will save +gold, and we will make gold, to put it to the +very front in the new times that are coming.<a name="Page_325" id="Page_325"></a> +And he will keep my name on the face of the +earth, and so please the great company of his +kin behind him. And it will be far better for +him to be the top-sheaf of the Latriggs, than to +force his way into Seat-Sandal, where there is +neither love nor welcome for him.'</p> + +<p>"And I thought the same thing, Stephen; and +after that, our one care was to make you happy, +and to do well to you. That you were a born +Sandal, was a great joy to him, for he loved your +father and your grandfather; and, when Harry +came, he loved him also, and he liked well to +see you two on the fells together. Often he +called me to come and look at you going off +with your rods or guns; and often he said, 'Both +fine lads, Ducie, but our Steve is the finer.'"</p> + +<p>"Oh, mother, I cannot take Harry's place! +I love Harry, and I did not know how much +until this hour"—</p> + +<p>"Stop a bit, Stephen. When Harry grew +up, and went into the army, your grandfather +wasn't so satisfied with what he had done. +'Here's a fine property going to sharpers and +tailors and Italian singing-women,' he used to +say; and he felt baddish about it. And yet he +loved Squire William, as he had loved his father, +<a name="Page_326" id="Page_326"></a>and Mistress Alice and Harry and Sophia and +Charlotte; why, he thought of them like his own +flesh and blood. And he could not bear to +undo his kindness. And he could not bear to +tell Squire William the truth, for he knew well +that he would undo it. So one day he sent for +Lawyer Moser; and the two of them together +found out a plan that seemed fair, for both +Sandal and Latrigg.</p> + +<p>"You were to remain Stephen Latrigg, unless +it was to ward off wrong or ruin in Sandal-Side. +But if ever the day came when Sandal +needed Latrigg, you were to claim your right, +and stand up for Sandal. Such a state of +things as Harry brought about, my father never +dreamed of. He would not have been able to +think of a man selling away his right to a place +like Seat-Sandal; and among all the villains he +ever knew, or heard tell of, he couldn't have +picked out one to lead him to such a villain as +Julius Sandal. So, you see, he left no special +directions for such a case, and I was a bit feared +to move in too big a hurry; and, maybe, I +was a bit of a coward about setting every +tongue in Sandal-Side talking about me and my +bygone days.</p><p><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327"></a></p> + +<p>"But, when the squire died, I thought from +what Charlotte told me of the Julius Sandals, +that there would have to be a change; and +when I saw your grandfather sorting the papers +for me, and heard that Mistress Alice and +Charlotte had been forced to leave their home, +I knew that the hour for the change had struck, +and that I must be about the business. Moser +was written to soon after the funeral of Squire +William. He has now all the necessary witnesses +and papers ready. He is at Ambleside +with them, and to-morrow morning they will +have a talk with Mr. Julius at Seat-Sandal."</p> + +<p>"I wonder where Harry Sandal is."</p> + +<p>"After you, comes Harry. Your grandfather +did not forget him. There is a provision +in the will, which directs, that if, for any cause +not conceivable by the testator, Harry Sandal +must resign in favor of Stephen Sandal, then +the land and money devised to you, as his heir, +shall become the property of Harry Sandal. In +a great measure you would only change places, +and that is not a very hard punishment for a +man who cared so little for his family home +as Harry did. So you see, Stephen, you must +claim your rights in order to give Harry his."</p><p><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328"></a></p> + +<p>The facts of this conversation opened up +endlessly to the mother and son, and hour +after hour it was continued without any loss +of interest. But the keenest pleasure his new +prospects gave Stephen referred itself to Mrs. +Sandal and Charlotte. He could now reinstate +them in their old home and in their old authority +in it. For the bright visions underneath +his eyelids, he could not sleep,—visions of +satisfied affection, and of grief and humiliation +crowned with joy and happiness and honor.</p> + +<p>It had been decided that Stephen should +drive his mother to the rectory in the morning, +and there they were to wait the result of +Moser's interview with Julius. The dawning +came up with sunshine; the storm was over, +the earth lay smiling in that "clear shining +after rain," which is so exhilarating and full +of promise. The sky was as blue, the air as +fresh, fell and wood, meadow and mountain, as +clean and bright as if they had just come new +from the fingers of the Almighty. Ducie was +handsomely dressed in dark violet-colored satin, +and Stephen noticed with pride how well her +rich clothing and quiet, dignified manner became +her; while Ducie felt even a greater +<a name="Page_329" id="Page_329"></a>pride in the stately, handsome young man who +drove her with such loving care down Latrigg +fell that eventful morning.</p> + +<p>Julius was at breakfast when the company +from Ambleside were shown into the master's +room in Seat-Sandal. The lawyer sent in his +card; and Julius, who knew him well, was a +trifle annoyed by the visit. "It will be about +your mother's income, Sophia," he said, as he +viciously broke the egg he was holding; "now +mind, I am not going to yield one inch."</p> + +<p>"Why should you, Julius? I am sure we +have been blamed and talked over enough. +We never can be popular here."</p> + +<p>"We don't want to be popular here. When +we have refurnished the house, we will bring +our company from Oxford and London and +elsewhere. We will have fine dinners and balls, +hunting-parties and fishing-parties; and, depend +upon it, we shall very soon have these +shepherd lords and gentlemen begging for our +favor."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you don't know them, Julius! They +would not break bread with us if they were +starving."</p> + +<p>"Very well. What do I care?"</p><p><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330"></a></p> + +<p>But he did care. When the wagoners driving +their long teams pretended not to hear his +greeting, for the jingling of their bells, he +knew it was pretence, and the wagoners' aversion +hurt him. When the herdsmen sauntered +away from his path, and preferred not to talk +to him, he felt the bitterness of their dislike, +though they were only shepherds. When the +gentlemen of the neighborhood looked straight +before them, and did not see him in their path, +he burned with an indignation he would have +liked well to express. But no one took the +trouble to offend him by word or deed, and a +man cannot pick a quarrel with people for +simply letting him alone.</p> + +<p>Sophia's opinion recalled one or two of these +events that were particularly galling; and he +finished his breakfast in a sulky, leisurely +fashion, to such reflections as they evoked. +Then, with a cigar in his mouth, he went to the +master's room to see Moser. He had been told +that other parties were there also, but he did +not surmise that their business was identical. +Yet he noticed the clergyman on entering, and +appeared inclined to attend to his request first; +but as he courteously waved his claim away, +<a name="Page_331" id="Page_331"></a>and retired to the other end of the room, Julius +said curtly,—</p> + +<p>"Well, Mr. Moser, good-morning, sir."</p> + +<p>The lawyer was pretending to be absorbed in +the captions of the papers in his hand, for he +was offended at being kept waiting so long: +"As if a bite of victuals was of more ado than +business that could bring Matthew Moser all +the road from Kendal."</p> + +<p>"Good-morning, Mr. Sandal."</p> + +<p>The omission of "Squire," and the substitution +of "Mr.," annoyed Julius very much, +though he had not a suspicion of the lawyer's +errand; and he corrected the mistake with a +bland smile on his lips, and an angry light in +his eyes. Moser, in reply, selected one particular +paper, and put it into the hand of +Julius.</p> + +<p>"Acting for Squire Sandal, I would be a +middling bad sort of a lawyer to give you his +name. Eh?"</p> + +<p>"You are talking in riddles, sir."</p> + +<p>"Eh! But I always read my riddles, Mr. +Sandal. I am here to take possession of house +and land, for the real heir of Sandal-Side."</p> + +<p>"I bought his right, as you know very well.<a name="Page_332" id="Page_332"></a> +You have Harry Sandal's own acknowledgment."</p> + +<p>"Eh? But you see, Harry Sandal never had a +penny-worth of right to sell. Launcelot Sandal +left a son, and for him I am acting. Eh?"</p> + +<p>"Launcelot Sandal was drowned. He never +married."</p> + +<p>"Eh, but he did!—Parson Sellafield, what do +you say about that?"</p> + +<p>"I married him on July 11, 18—, at Egremont +church. There," pointing to Matt Pattison, +"is the witness. Here is a copy of the +license and the 'lines.' They are signed, +'Launcelot Sandal' and 'Ducie Latrigg.'"</p> + +<p>"Confusion!"</p> + +<p>"Eh? No, no! There's not a bit of confusion, +Mr. Sandal. It is all as clear as the multiplication +table, and there is nothing clearer +than that. Launcelot Sandal married Ducie +Latrigg; they had one son, Stephen Sandal, +otherwise known as Stephen Latrigg: proofs +all ready, sir, not a link missing, Mr. Sandal. +When will you vacate? The squire is inclined +to be easy with you, and not to back-reckon, +unless you force him to do so."</p> + +<p>"This is a conspiracy, Moser."</p><p><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333"></a></p> + +<p>"Conspiracy! Eh? Ugly word, Mr. Sandal. +An actionable word, I may say."</p> + +<p>"It is a conspiracy. You shall hear from +me through some respectable lawyer."</p> + +<p>"In the mean time, Mr. Sandal, I have taken, +as you will see, the proper legal steps to prevent +you wasting any more of the Sandal +revenues. Every shilling you touch now, +you will be held responsible for. Also," and +he laid another paper down, "you are hereby +restrained from removing, injuring, or in +any way changing, or disposing of, the +present furniture of the Seat. The squire insists +specially on this direction, and he kindly +allows you seven days to remove your private +effects. A very reasonable gentleman is Squire +Sandal."</p> + +<p>Without further courtesies they parted; and +the deposed squire locked the room-door, lifted +the various documents, and read them with +every sense he had. Then he went to Sophia; +and at that hour he was almost angry with her, +although he could not have told how, or why, +such a feeling existed. When he opened the +door of the parlor, her first words were a worry +over the non-arrival, by mail, of some floss-silks, +<a name="Page_334" id="Page_334"></a>needful in the bird's-nest she was working for +a fire-screen.</p> + +<p>"They have not come, Julius," she cried, with +a face full of inquiry and annoyance.</p> + +<p>"They? Who?"</p> + +<p>"The flosses for my bird's-nest. The eggs +must be in white floss."</p> + +<p>"The bird's nest can go to Jericho, or Calcutta, +or into the fire. We are ordered to leave +Seat-Sandal in seven days."</p> + +<p>"I would not be so absurd, Julius, so unfeeling, +so ungentlemanly."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, my soul," and he bowed with +elaborate grace, "Stephen Latrigg, squire of +Sandal-Side, orders us to leave in seven days. +Can you be ready?"</p> + +<p>She looked into the suave, mocking, inscrutable +face, shrugged her shoulders, and began to +count her stitches. Julius had many varieties +of ill-humor. She regarded this statement only +as a new phase of his temper; but he soon +undeceived her. With a pitiless exactness he +went over his position, and, in doing so, made +the hopelessness of his case as clear to himself +as it was to others. And yet he was determined +not to yield without a struggle; though, +<a name="Page_335" id="Page_335"></a>apart from the income of Sandal, which he could +not reach, he had little money and no credit.</p> + +<p>The story, with all its romance of attachment +and its long trial of faithful secrecy, touched +the prejudices and the sympathies of every +squire and shepherd between Duddon and Esk +and Windermere. Stephen came to his own, +and they received him with open arms. But +for Julius, there was not a "seat" in the Dales, +nor a cottage on the fells, no, nor a chair in +any of the local inns, where he was welcome. +He stood his social excommunication longer +than could have been expected; and, even at +the end, his surrender was forced from him by the +want of money, and the never-ceasing laments +of Sophia. She was clever enough to understand +from the first, that fighting the case was +simply "indulging Julius in his temper;" and +she did not see the wisdom of spending what +little money they had in such a gratification.</p> + +<p>"You have been caught in your own trap, +Julius," she said aggravatingly. "Very clever +people often are. It is folly to struggle. You +had better ask Stephen to pay you back the ten +thousand pounds. I think he ought to do that. +It is only common honesty."</p><p><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336"></a></p> + +<p>But Stephen had not the same idea of common +honesty as Sophia had. He referred +Julius to Harry.</p> + +<p>"Harry, indeed! Harry who is in New York +making ducks and drakes of your money, Julius,—trying +to buy shares and things that he knows +no more of than he knows of Greek. It's a +shame!" and Sophia burst into some genuine +tears over the reflection.</p> + +<p>Still the idea, on a less extravagant basis, +seemed possible to Steve. He began to think +that it would be better to compromise matters +with the Julius Sandals; better to lose a thousand +pounds, or even two thousand pounds, if, +by doing so, he could at once restore Mrs. Sandal +and Charlotte to their home. And he was +on the point of making a proposition of this +kind, when it was discovered that Julius and his +wife had silently taken their departure.</p> + +<p>"It is a hopeless fight against destiny," said +Julius. "When the purse is empty, any cause +is weak. I have barely money to take us to +Calcutta, Sophia. It is very disagreeable to go +there, of course; but my father advised this +step, and I shall remind him of it. He ought, +therefore, to re-arrange my future. It is hard +<a name="Page_337" id="Page_337"></a>enough for me to have lost so much time carrying +out his plans. And I should write a letter +to your mother before you go, if I were you, +Sophia. It is your duty. She ought to have +her cruel behavior to you pointed out to her."</p> + +<p>Sophia did her duty. She wrote a very +clever letter, which really did make both her +mother and sister wretchedly uncomfortable. +Charlotte held it in her hand with a heartache, +wondering whether she had indeed been as envious +and unjust and unkind as Sophia felt her +to have been; and Mrs. Sandal buried her face +in her sofa pillow, and had a cry over her supposed +partiality and want of true motherly feeling. +"They had been so misunderstood, Julius +and she,—wilfully misunderstood, she feared; +and they were being driven to a foreign land, +a deadly foreign land, because Charlotte and +Stephen had raised against them a social +hatred they had not the heart to conquer. If +they defended themselves, they must accuse +those of their own blood and house, and they +were not mean enough to do such a thing as +that. Oh, no! Sophia Sandal had always done +her duty, and always would do it forever." And +broad statements are such confusing, confounding +<a name="Page_338" id="Page_338"></a>things, that for one miserable hour the +mother and sister felt as mean and remorseful +as Sophia and Julius could desire. Then the +rector read the letter aloud, and dived down +into its depths as if it was a knotty text, and +showed the two simple women on what false +conditions all of its accusations rested.</p> + +<p>At the same time Julius wrote a letter also. +It was to Harry Sandal,—a very short letter, +but destined to cause nearly six years of lonely, +wretched wandering and anxious sorrow.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">Dear Harry</span>,—There is great trouble about that +ten thousand pounds. It seems you had no right to sell. +"Money on false pretences," I think they call it. I +should go West, far West, if I were you.</p> + +<p>Your friend,</p> + +<p>JULIUS SANDAL.</p></div> + +<p>He read it to Sophia, and she said, "What +folly! Let Harry return home. You have +heard that he comes into the Latrigg money. +Very well, let him come home, and then you +can make him pay you back. Harry is very +honorable."</p> + +<p>"There is not the slightest chance of Harry +paying me back. If he had a million, he +wouldn't pay me back. Harry spoke me fair, +<a name="Page_339" id="Page_339"></a>but I caught one look which let me see into +his soul. He hated me for buying his right. +With my money in his hand, he hated me. +He would toss his hat to the stars if he heard +how far I have been over-reached. Next to +Charlotte Sandal, I hate Harry Sandal; and I +am going to send him a road that he is not +likely to return. I don't intend Stephen and +Harry to sit together, and chuckle over me. +Besides, your mother and Charlotte are surely +calculating upon having 'dear Harry' and +'poor Harry' at home again very soon. I have +no doubt Charlotte is planning about that +Emily Beverley already. For Harry is to have +Latrigg Hall when it is finished, I hear."</p> + +<p>"Really? Is that so? Are you sure?"</p> + +<p>"Harry is to have the new hall, and all of +old Latrigg's gold and property."</p> + +<p>"Julius, would it not be better to try and +get around Harry? We could stay with him. +I cannot endure Calcutta, and I always did +like Harry."</p> + +<p>"And I always detested him. And he +always detested me. No, my sweet Sophia, +there is really nothing for us but a decent +lodging-house on the shady side of the Chowringhee<a name="Page_340" id="Page_340"></a> +Road. My father can give me a post +in 'The Company,' and I must get as many +of its rupees as I can manage. Go through +the old rooms, and bid them farewell, my soul. +We shall not come back to Seat-Sandal again +in this chapter of our eternity." And with a +mocking laugh he turned away to make his +own preparations.</p> + +<p>"But why go in the night, Julius? You +said to-night at eleven o'clock. Why not wait +until morning?"</p> + +<p>"Because, beloved, I owe a great deal of +money in the neighborhood. Stephen can pay +it for me. I have sent him word to do so. +Why should we waste our money? We have +done with these boors. What they think of +us, what they say of us, shall we mind it, my +soul, when we drive under the peopuls and tamarinds +at Barrackpore, or jostle the crowds +upon the Moydana, or sit under the great stars +and listen to the tread of the chokedars? All +fate, Sophia! All fate, soul of my soul! +What is Sandal-Side? Nothing. What is Calcutta? +Nothing. What is life itself, my own +one? Only a little piece out of something that +was before, and will be after."</p><p><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341"></a></p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Who that has seen the Cumberland moors +and fells in July can ever forget them?—the +yellow broom and purple heather, the pink +and white waxen balls of the rare vacciniums, +the red-leaved sundew, the asphodels, the cranberries +and blueberries and bilberries, and the +wonderful green mosses in all the wetter places; +and, above and around all, the great mountain +chains veiled in pale, ethereal atmosphere, and +rising in it as airy and unsubstantial as if they +could tremble in unison with every thrill of +the ether above them.</p> + +<p>It was thus they looked, and thus the felis +and the moors looked, one day in July, eighteen +months after the death of Squire William Sandal,—his +daughter Charlotte's wedding-day. +From far and near, the shepherd boys and +lasses were travelling down the craggy ways, +making all the valleys ring to their wild and +simple songs, and ever and anon the bells rung +out in joyful peals; and from Up-Hill to Seat-Sandal, +and around the valley to Latrigg Hall, +there were happy companies telling each other, +"Oh, how beautiful was the bride with her +golden hair flowing down over her dress of +<a name="Page_342" id="Page_342"></a>shining white satin!" "And how proud and +handsome the bridegroom!" "And how lovely +in their autumn days the two mothers! Mistress +Alice Sandal leaning so confidently upon +the arm of the stately Mrs. Ducie Sandal." +"And how glad was the good rector!" Little +work, either in field or house or fellside, was +done that day; for, when all has been said about +human selfishness, this truth abides,—in the +main, we do rejoice with those who rejoice, and +we do weep with those who weep.</p> + +<p>The old Seat was almost gay in the sunshine, +all its windows open for the wandering breezes, +and its great hall doors set wide for the feet of +the new squire and his bride. For they were +too wise to begin their married life by going +away from their home; they felt that it was +better to come to it with the bridal benediction +in their ears, and the sunshine of the wedding-day +upon their faces.</p> + +<p>The ceremony had been delayed some months, +for Stephen had been in America seeking Harry; +seeking him in the great cities and in the lonely +mining-camps, but never coming upon his foot +steps until they had been worn away into forgetfulness. +At last the rector wrote to him,<a name="Page_343" id="Page_343"></a> +"Return home, Stephen. We are both wrong. +It is not human love, but God love, that must +seek the lost ones. If you found Harry now, +and brought him back, it would be too soon. +When his lesson is learned, the heart of God +will be touched, and he will say, 'That will do, +my son. Arise, and go home.'"</p> + +<p>And when Mrs. Sandal smiled through her +tears, for the hope's sake, he took her hand, +and added solemnly, "Be confident and glad, +you shall see Harry come joyfully to his own +home. Oh, if you could only listen, angels still +talk with men! Raphael, the affable angel, +loves to bring them confidences. God also +speaks to his children in dreams, and by the +oracles that wait in darkness. If we know not, +it is because we ask not. But I know, and am +sure, that Harry will return in joy and in peace. +And if the dead look over the golden bar of +heaven upon their earthly homes, Barf Latrigg, +seeing the prosperity of the two houses, which +stand upon his love and his self-denial, will say +once more to his friend, 'William, I did well to +Sandal.'"</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Smitten. Marked with the cipher of the owner in a mixture mostly of +tar.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> The plant <i>Geranium Robertianum</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> Death-feast.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> Dint, energy.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> This story is told of Professor Sedgwick in broad <i>patois</i> by +Alexander Craig Gibson, F.S.A.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> Dint, energy.</p></div> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SQUIRE OF SANDAL-SIDE***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 16258-h.txt or 16258-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/6/2/5/16258">https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/2/5/16258</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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