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diff --git a/28088-h/28088-h.htm b/28088-h/28088-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f8cfa87 --- /dev/null +++ b/28088-h/28088-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,28026 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Beth Book, by Sarah Grand</title> + <style type="text/css"> +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2,h3 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +h1 {font-size: 250%;} +h1.pg {font-size: 190%;} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +hr { + width: 65%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + +hr.hr2 { + width: 45%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + +hr.hr3 { + width: 15%; + margin-top: .5em; + margin-bottom: .5em; + margin-left: 4em; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +dt { + margin-top: 1em; + font-weight: 600; + margin-left: .5em; + font-size: 110% +} + +.td2 { + vertical-align: top; + text-align: left; + padding-left: 3em; + margin-left: 0em; + text-indent: -1em; + width: 12em; +} + +a.a1 { + text-decoration: none; + color: #191970; +} + +.pagenum {/* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /*visibility: hidden;*/ + position: absolute; + left: 95%; + font-size: 15px; + font-weight: normal; + font-variant: normal; + font-style: normal; + letter-spacing: normal; + text-indent: 0em; + text-align: right; + color: #B0C4DE; + background-color: #ffffff; +} /* page numbers */ + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.right {margin-left: 40%;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + +/* Footnotes */ + +.footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 90%;} + +.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + +.fnanchor { + vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: + none; +} + +/* Poetry */ +.poem { + margin-left:10%; + margin-right:10%; + text-align: left; +} + +.poem2 { + margin-left:12%; + margin-right:10%; + text-align: left; +} + +.poem br {display: none;} + +.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + +.poem2 .stanza2 {margin: 1em 0em 0em 0em;} + + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i1 {display: block; margin-left: 1em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i10 {display: block; margin-left: 10em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i17 {display: block; margin-left: 17em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i18 {display: block; margin-left: 18em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i20 {display: block; margin-left: 20em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i22 {display: block; margin-left: 22em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i3 {display: block; margin-left: 3em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i5 {display: block; margin-left: 5em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i7 {display: block; margin-left: 7em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i8 {display: block; margin-left: 8em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i9 {display: block; margin-left: 9em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i15 {display: block; margin-left: 15em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem2 span.i10 {display: block; margin-left: 10em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem2 span.i22 {display: block; margin-left: 22em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem2 span.i5 {display: block; margin-left: 5em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + +.bbox {border: solid 2px;} + + hr.full { width: 100%; + margin-top: 3em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + height: 4px; + border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ + border-style: solid; + border-color: #000000; + clear: both; } + pre {font-size: 85%;} + </style> +</head> +<body> +<h1 class="pg">The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Beth Book, by Sarah Grand</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 = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: The Beth Book</p> +<p> Being a Study of the Life of Elizabeth Caldwell Maclure, a Woman of Genius</p> +<p>Author: Sarah Grand</p> +<p>Release Date: February 15, 2009 [eBook #28088]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BETH BOOK***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3>E-text prepared by Jen Haines, Suzanne Shell,<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h2>The</h2> +<h1>Beth Book</h1> + +<p class="center"><i>Being a Study<br /> + of the Life of<br /> + Elizabeth Caldwell Maclure<br /> + A Woman of Genius</i></p> + +<h3><br />BY<br /> +<i>Sarah Grand</i><br /><br /></h3> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<div class="poem2"><div class="stanza2"> +<span class="i5">IAGO. Come, hold your peace.<br /></span> +<span class="i5">EMILIA. 'Twill out, 'twill out:—I hold my peace, Sir? no;<br /></span> +<span class="i10">I'll be in speaking, liberal as the air:<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Let heaven, and men, and devils, let them all<br /></span> +<span class="i10">All, all, cry shame against me, yet I'll speak.<br /></span> +<span class="i22"> SHAKESPEARE<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 150px; margin-top: 5em;"> +<img src="images/lionlogo.jpg" width="150" height="123" +alt="Publisher Lion Logo" title="Publisher Lion Logo" /> +</div> + +<p class="center">New York:<br /> + D. Appleton, + 1897.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<i>I cannot gather the sunbeams out of the east, or I +would make them tell you what I have seen; but read this +and interpret this, and let us remember together. I +cannot gather the gloom out of the night sky, or I would +make that tell you what I have seen; but read this and +interpret this, and let us feel together. And if you have +not that within you which I can summon to my aid, if you +have not the sun in your spirit and the passion in your +heart which my words may awaken, though they be +indistinct and swift, leave me, for I will give you no +patient mockery, no labouring insults of that glorious +Nature whose I am and whom I serve.</i>"— +<span class="smcap">Ruskin.</span><br /><br /><br /><br /></p></div> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<i>The men who come on the stage at one period are all +found to be related to one another. Certain ideas are in +the air. We are all impressionable, for we are made of +them; all impressionable, but some more than others, and +these first express them. This explains the curious +temporaneousness of inventions and discoveries. The truth +is in the air, and the most impressionable brain will +announce it first, but all will announce it a few minutes +later. So women, as most susceptible, are the best index +of the coming hour.</i>"—<span class="smcap">Emerson.</span> </p></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> + +<h2><br /><br /><br /><br />Contents</h2> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Chapter Listing with Hyperlinks"> +<tr><td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_I"><b>CHAPTER I</b></a></td> + <td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_XXVII"><b>CHAPTER XXVII</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_II"><b>CHAPTER II</b></a></td> + <td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_XXVIII"><b>CHAPTER XXVIII</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_III"><b>CHAPTER III</b></a></td> + <td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_XXIX"><b>CHAPTER XXIX</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_IV"><b>CHAPTER IV</b></a></td> + <td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_XXX"><b>CHAPTER XXX</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_V"><b>CHAPTER V</b></a></td> + <td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_XXXI"><b>CHAPTER XXXI</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_VI"><b>CHAPTER VI</b></a></td> + <td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_XXXII"><b>CHAPTER XXXII</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_VII"><b>CHAPTER VII</b></a></td> + <td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_XXXIII"><b>CHAPTER XXXIII</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_VIII"><b>CHAPTER VIII</b></a></td> + <td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_XXXIV"><b>CHAPTER XXXIV</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_IX"><b>CHAPTER IX</b></a></td> + <td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_XXXV"><b>CHAPTER XXXV</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_X"><b>CHAPTER X</b></a></td> + <td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_XXXVI"><b>CHAPTER XXXVI</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_XI"><b>CHAPTER XI</b></a></td> + <td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_XXXVII"><b>CHAPTER XXXVII</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_XII"><b>CHAPTER XII</b></a></td> + <td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_XXXVIII"><b>CHAPTER XXXVIII</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_XIII"><b>CHAPTER XIII</b></a></td> + <td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_XXXIX"><b>CHAPTER XXXIX</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_XIV"><b>CHAPTER XIV</b></a></td> + <td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_XL"><b>CHAPTER XL</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_XV"><b>CHAPTER XV</b></a></td> + <td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_XLI"><b>CHAPTER XLI</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_XVI"><b>CHAPTER XVI</b></a></td> + <td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_XLII"><b>CHAPTER XLII</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_XVII"><b>CHAPTER XVII</b></a></td> + <td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_XLIII"><b>CHAPTER XLIII</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_XVIII"><b>CHAPTER XVIII</b></a></td> + <td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_XLIV"><b>CHAPTER XLIV</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_XIX"><b>CHAPTER XIX</b></a></td> + <td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_XLV"><b>CHAPTER XLV</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_XX"><b>CHAPTER XX</b></a></td> + <td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_XLVI"><b>CHAPTER XLVI</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_XXI"><b>CHAPTER XXI</b></a></td> + <td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_XLVII"><b>CHAPTER XLVII</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_XXII"><b>CHAPTER XXII</b></a></td> + <td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_XLVIII"><b>CHAPTER XLVIII</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_XXIII"><b>CHAPTER XXIII</b></a></td> + <td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_XLIX"><b>CHAPTER XLIX</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_XXIV"><b>CHAPTER XXIV</b></a></td> + <td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_L"><b>CHAPTER L</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_XXV"><b>CHAPTER XXV</b></a></td> + <td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_LI"><b>CHAPTER LI</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_XXVI"><b>CHAPTER XXVI</b></a></td> + <td class="td2"><a class="a1" href="#CHAPTER_LII"><b>CHAPTER LII</b></a></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<hr /> +<h2><br /><br /><br /><br /><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> day preceding Beth's birth was a grey day, a serene grey day, +awesome with a certain solemnity, and singularly significant to those +who seek a sign. There is a quiet mood, an inner calm, to which a grey +day adds peculiar solace. It is like the relief which follows after +tears, when hope begins to revive, and the warm blood throbs +rebelliously to be free of the shackles of grief; a certain heaviness +still lingers, but only as a luxurious languor which is a pleasure in +itself. In other moods, however, in pain, in doubt, in suspense, the +grey day deepens the depression of the spirits, and also adds to the +sense of physical discomfort. Mrs. Caldwell, looking up at noon from the +stocking she was mending, and seeing only a slender strip of level gloom +above the houses opposite, suddenly experienced a mingled feeling of +chilliness and dread, and longed for a fire, although the month was +June. She could not afford fires at that time of year, yet she thought +how nice it would be to have one, and the more she thought of it the +more chilly she felt. A little comfort of the kind would have meant so +much to her that morning. She would like to have felt it right to put +away the mending, sit by a good blaze with a book, and absorb herself in +somebody else's thoughts, for her own were far from cheerful. She was +weak and ill and anxious, the mother of six children already, and about +to produce a seventh on an income that would have been insufficient for +four. It was a reckless thing for a delicate woman to do, but she never +thought of that. She lived in the days when no one thought of the waste +of women in this respect, and they had not begun to think for +themselves. What she suffered she accepted as her "lot," or "The Will of +God"—the expression varied with the nature of the trouble; extreme pain +was "The Will of God," but minor discomforts and worries were her "lot." +That much of the misery was perfectly preventable never occurred to her, +and if any one had suggested such a thing she would have been shocked. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> +The parson in the pulpit preached endurance; and she understood that +anything in the nature of resistance, any discussion even of social +problems, would not only have been a flying in the face of Providence, +but a most indecent proceeding. She knew that there was crime and +disease in the world, but there were judges and juries to pursue +criminals, doctors to deal with diseases, and the clergy to speak a word +in season to all, from the murderer on the scaffold to the maid who had +misconducted herself. There was nothing eccentric about Mrs. Caldwell; +she accepted the world just as she found it, and was satisfied to know +that effects were being dealt with. Causes she never considered, because +she knew nothing about them.</p> + +<p>But she was ill at ease that morning, and did think it rather hard that +she should not have had time to recover from her last illness. She +acknowledged to herself that she was very weak, that it was hard to drag +the darning-needle through that worn stocking, and, oh dear! the holes +were so many and so big that week, and there were such quantities of +other things to be done, clothes mended and made for the children, +besides household matters to be seen to generally; why wasn't she +strong? That was the only thing she repined about, poor woman, her want +of physical strength. She would work until she dropped, however, and +mortal man could expect no more of her, she assured herself with a sigh +of satisfaction, in anticipation of the inevitable event which would lay +her by, and so release her from all immediate responsibility. Worn and +weary working mothers, often uncomplaining victims of the cruelest +exactions, toilers whose day's work is never done, no wonder they +welcome even the illness which enforces rest in bed, the one holiday +that is ever allowed them. Mrs. Caldwell thought again of the fire and +the book. She had read a good deal at one time, and had even been able +to play, and sing, and draw, and paint with a dainty touch; but since +her marriage, the many children, the small means, and the failing +strength had made all such pursuits an impossible luxury. The fire and +the book—who knows what they might not have meant, what a benign +difference the small relaxation allowed to the mother at this critical +time might not have made in the temperament of the child? Perhaps, if we +could read the events even of that one day aright, we should find in +them the clue to all that was inexplicable in its subsequent career.</p> + +<p>In deciding that she could not afford a fire for herself, Mrs. Caldwell +had glanced round the room, and noticed that the whisky bottle on the +sideboard was all but empty. She got up hastily, and went into the +kitchen.</p> + +<p>"I had quite forgotten the whisky," she said to the maid-of-all-work, +who was scraping potatoes at the sink. "Your master + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> will be so put out +if there isn't enough. You must go at once and get some—six bottles. +Bring one with you, and let them send the rest."</p> + +<p>The girl turned upon her with a scowl. "And who's to do my dinner?" she +demanded.</p> + +<p>"I'll do what I can," Mrs. Caldwell answered. The servant threw the +knife down on the potatoes, and turned from the sink sullenly, wiping +her hands on her apron as she went.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell rolled up her sleeves, and set to work, but awkwardly. +Household work comes naturally to many educated women; they like it, and +they do it well; but Mrs. Caldwell was not one of this kind. She was not +made for labour, but for luxury; her hands and arms, both delicately +beautiful in form and colour, alone showed that. Her whole air betokened +gentle birth and breeding. She looked out of place in the kitchen, and +it was evident that she could only acquit herself well among the +refinements of life. She set to work with a will, however, for she had +the pluck and patience of ten men. She peeled vegetables, chopped meat, +fetched water, carried coals to mend the fire, did all that had to be +done to the best of her ability, although she had to cling many times to +table, or chair, or dresser, to recover from the exertion, and brace +herself for a fresh attempt. When she had done in the kitchen she went +to the dining-room and laid the cloth. The sulky servant did not hurry +back. She had a trick of lingering long on errands, and when at last she +did appear she brought no whisky.</p> + +<p>"They're going to send it," she explained. "They promised to send it at +once."</p> + +<p>"But I told you to bring a bottle!" Mrs. Caldwell exclaimed, stamping +her foot imperiously.</p> + +<p>The girl walked off to the kitchen, and slammed the door.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell's forehead was puckered with a frown, but she got out the +mending again, and sat down to it in the dining-room with dogged +determination.</p> + +<p>Presently there was a step outside. She looked up and listened. The +front door opened. Her worn face brightened; backache and weariness were +forgotten; her husband had come home; and it was as if the clouds had +parted and the sun shone forth.</p> + +<p>She looked up brightly to greet him. "You've got your work over early +to-day," she said.</p> + +<p>"I have," he answered drily, without looking at her.</p> + +<p>The smile froze on her lips. He had come back in an irritable mood. He +went to the sideboard when he had spoken, and poured himself out a stiff +glass of whisky-and-water, which he carried to the window, where he +stood with his back to his wife, + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> + looking out. He was a short man, who +made an instant impression of light eyes in a dark face. You would have +looked at him a second time in the street, and thought of him after he +had passed, so striking was the peculiar contrast. His features were +European, but his complexion, and his soft glossy black hair, curling +close and crisp to the head, betrayed a dark drop in him, probably +African. In the West Indies he would certainly have been set down as a +quadroon. There was no record of negro blood in the family, however, no +trace of any ancestor who had lived abroad; and the three moors' heads +with ivory rings through their noses which appeared in one quarter of +the scutcheon were always understood by later generations to have been a +distinction conferred for some special butchery-business among the +Saracens.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell glanced at her husband, as he stood with his back to her +in the window, and then went on with the mending, patiently waiting till +the mood should have passed off, or she should have thought of something +with which to beguile him.</p> + +<p>When he had finished the whisky-and-water, he turned and looked at her +with critical disapprobation.</p> + +<p>"I wonder why it is when a woman marries she takes no more pains with +herself," he ejaculated. "When I married you, you were one of the +smartest girls I ever saw."</p> + +<p>"It would be difficult to be smart just now," she answered.</p> + +<p>He made a gesture of impatience. "But why should a woman give up +everything when she marries? You had more accomplishments than most of +them, and now all you do, it seems to me, is the mending."</p> + +<p>"The mending must be done," she answered deprecatingly, "and I'm not +very strong. I'm not able to do everything. I would if I could."</p> + +<p>There was a wild stampede at this moment. The four elder children had +returned from school, and the two younger ones from a walk with their +nurse, and now burst into the room, in wild spirits, demanding dinner. +It was the first bright moment of the morning for their mother, but her +husband promptly spoilt her pleasure.</p> + +<p>"Sit down at table," he roared, "and don't let me hear another word from +any of you. A man comes home to be quiet, and this is the kind of thing +that awaits him!"</p> + +<p>The children shrank to their places abashed, while their mother escaped +to the kitchen to hurry the dinner. The form—or farce—of grace was +gone through before the meal commenced. The children ate greedily, but +were obediently silent. All the little confidences and remarks which it +would have been so healthy for them to make, and so good for their +mother to hear, had to be + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> + suppressed, and the silence and constraint +made everyone dyspeptic. The dinner consisted of only one dish, a hash, +which Mrs. Caldwell had made because her husband had liked it so much +the last time they had had it. He turned it over on his plate now, +however, ominously, blaming the food for his own want of appetite. Mrs. +Caldwell knew the symptoms, and sighed.</p> + +<p>"I can't eat this stuff," he said at last, pushing his plate away from +him.</p> + +<p>"There's a pudding coming," his wife replied.</p> + +<p>"Oh, a pudding!" he exclaimed. "I know what our puddings are. Why aren't +women taught something sensible? What's the use of all your +accomplishments if you can't cook the simplest dish? What a difference +it would have made to my life if you had been able to make pastry even."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell thought of the time she had spent on her feet in the +kitchen that morning doing her best, and she also thought how easy it +would have been for him to marry a woman who could cook, if that were +all he wanted; but she had no faint glimmering conception that it was +unreasonable to expect a woman of her class to cook her dinner as well +as eat it. One servant is not expected to do another's work in any +establishment; but a mother on a small income, the most cruelly tried of +women, is too often required to be equal to anything. Mrs. Caldwell said +nothing, however. She belonged to the days when a wife's meek submission +to anything a man chose to say made nagging a pleasant relaxation for +the man, and encouraged him to persevere until he acquired a peculiar +ease in the art, and spoilt the tempers of everybody about him.</p> + +<p>The arrival of the family doctor put an end to the scene. Mrs. Caldwell +told the children to run away, and her husband's countenance cleared.</p> + +<p>"Glad to see you, Gottley," he said. "What will you have?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, nothing, thank you. I can't stay a moment. I just looked in to see +how Mrs. Caldwell was getting on."</p> + +<p>"Oh, she's all right," her husband answered for her cheerfully. "How are +you all, especially Miss Bessie?"</p> + +<p>"Ha! ha!" said the old gentleman, sitting down by the table. "That +reminds me I'm not on good terms with Bessie this morning. I'm generally +careful, you know, but it seems I said something disrespectful about a +Christian brother—a <i>Christian</i> brother, mind you—and I've been had up +before the family tribunal for blasphemy, and condemned to everlasting +punishment. Lord!—But, mark my words," he exclaimed emphatically, "a +time will come when every school-girl will see, what my life is made a +burden to me for seeing now, the absurdity of the whole religious +superstition." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span></p> + +<p>"O doctor!" Mrs. Caldwell cried, "surely you believe in God?"</p> + +<p>"God has not revealed Himself to me, madam; I know nothing about Him," +the old gentleman answered gently.</p> + +<p>"Ah, there you know you are wrong, Gottley," Mr. Caldwell chimed in, and +then he proceeded to argue the question. The old doctor, being in a +hurry, said little in reply, and when he had gone Mrs. Caldwell +exclaimed, with wifely tact—</p> + +<p>"Well, I think you had the best of that!"</p> + +<p>"Well, I think I had, poor old buffer!" her husband answered +complacently, his temper restored. "By the way, I've brought in the last +number of Dickens. Shall I read it to you?"</p> + +<p>Her face brightened. "Yes, do," she rejoined. "One moment, till Jane has +done clearing the table. Here's your chair," and she placed the only +easy one in the room for him, in the best light.</p> + +<p>These readings were one of the joys of her life. He read to her often, +and read exceedingly well. Books were the bond of union between them, +the prop and stay of their married life. Poor as they were, they always +managed to find money for new ones, which they enjoyed together in this +way. Intellectuality balanced the morbid irritability of the husband's +temperament, and literature made life tolerable to them both as nothing +else could have done. As he read now, his countenance cleared, and his +imaginary cares fell from him; while his wife's very real ones were +forgotten as she listened, and there was a blessed truce to trouble for +a time. Unfortunately, however, as the reading proceeded, he came to a +rasping bit of the story, which began to grate upon his nerves. The +first part had been pleasurably exciting, but when he found the +sensation slipping from him, he thought to stay it with a stimulant, and +went to the sideboard for the purpose. Mrs. Caldwell's heart sank; the +whisky bottle was all but empty.</p> + +<p>"Oh, damn it!" he exclaimed, banging it down on the sideboard. "And I +suppose there is none in the house. There never is any in the house. No +one looks after anything. My comfort is never considered. It is always +those damned children."</p> + +<p>"Henry!" his wife protested; but she was too ill to defend herself +further.</p> + +<p>"What a life for a man," he proceeded; "stuck down in this cursed hole, +without a congenial soul to speak to, in or out of the house."</p> + +<p>"That is a cruel thing to say, Henry," she remonstrated with dignity.</p> + +<p>"Well, I apologise," he rejoined ungraciously. "But you must confess +that I have some cause to complain." + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p> + +<p>He was standing behind her as he spoke, and she felt that he eyed her +the while with disapproval of her appearance, and anger at her +condition. She knew the look only too well, poor soul, and her attitude +was deprecating as she sat there gazing up pitifully at the strip of +level greyness above the houses opposite. She said nothing, however, +only rocked herself on her chair, and looked forlornly miserable; seeing +which brought his irritation to a climax. He flung the book across the +room; but even in the act, his countenance cleared. He was standing in +the window, and caught a glimpse of Bessie Gottley, who was passing at +the moment on the opposite side of the road, and looked across at him, +smiling and nodding invitingly. Mrs. Caldwell saw the pantomime, and her +heart contracted with a pang when she saw how readily her husband +responded. It was hard that the evil moods should not be conquered for +her as well as for Bessie Gottley.</p> + +<p>Bridget came in just then, bringing the belated whisky.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you did order it," he graciously acknowledged. "Why didn't you say +so?" He opened the bottle, and poured some out for himself. "Here's to +the moon-faced Bessie!" he said jocularly.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell went on with the mending. Her husband began to walk up and +down the room, in a good humour again. He walked peculiarly, more on his +toes than his heels, with an odd little spring in each step, as if it +were the first step of a dance. This springiness gave to his gait a sort +of buoyancy which might have seemed natural to him, if exaggerated, in +his youth, but had the air of an affectation in middle life, as if it +were part of an assumption of juvenility.</p> + +<p>"Won't you go on with the reading?" his wife said at last. His +restlessness worried her.</p> + +<p>"No," he answered; "I shall go out. I want exercise."</p> + +<p>"When will you be back?" she asked wistfully.</p> + +<p>"Oh, hang it all! don't nag me. I shall come back when I like."</p> + +<p>He left the room as he spoke, slamming the door behind him. Mrs. +Caldwell did not alter her attitude, but the tears welled up in her +eyes, and ran down her haggard cheeks unheeded. The children came in, +and finding her so, quietly left the room, all but the eldest girl, who +went and leant against her, slipping her little hand through her +mother's arm. The poor woman kissed the child passionately; then, with a +great effort, recovered her self-control, put her work away, gave the +children their tea, read to them for an hour, and saw them to bed. The +front door was open when she came downstairs, and she went to shut it. A +lady, who knew her, happened to be passing, and stopped to shake hands. +"I saw your husband just now sitting on the beach with Bessie Gottley," +she informed Mrs. Caldwell pleasantly. "They were both laughing +immoderately." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Very likely," Mrs. Caldwell responded with a smile. "She amuses my +husband immensely. But won't you come in?"</p> + +<p>"No, thank you. Not to-night. I am hurrying home. Glad to see you +looking so well;" with which she nodded, and went her way; and Mrs. +Caldwell returned to the little dining-room, holding her head high till +she had shut the door, when she burst into a tempest of tears. She was a +lymphatic woman ordinarily, but subject to sudden squalls of passion, +when she lost all self-control.</p> + +<p>She would have sobbed aloud now, when the fit was on her, in the face of +the whole community, although the constant effort of her life was to +keep up appearances. She had recovered herself, however, before the +servant came in with the candles, and was sitting in the window looking +out anxiously. The greyness of the long June day was darkening down to +night now, but there was no change in the sultry stillness of the air. +Summer lightning played about in the strip of sky above the houses +opposite. One of the houses was a butcher's shop, and while Mrs. +Caldwell sat there, the butcher brought out a lamb and killed it. Mrs. +Caldwell watched the operation with interest. They did strange things in +those days in that little Irish seaport, and, being an Englishwoman, she +looked on like a civilised traveller intelligently studying the customs +of a savage people.</p> + +<p>But as the darkness gathered, the trouble of her mind increased. Her +husband did not return, and a sickening sensation of dread took +possession of her. Where had he gone? What was he doing? Doubtless +enjoying himself—what bitterness there was in the thought! She did not +grudge him any pleasure, but it was hard that he should find so little +in her company. Why was there no distraction for her? The torment of her +mind was awful; should she try his remedy? She went to the sideboard and +poured herself out some whisky, but even as she raised it to her lips +she felt it unworthy to have recourse to it, and put the glass down +untouched.</p> + +<p>After that she went and leant against the window-frame. It was about +midnight, and very few people passed. Whenever a man appeared in the +distance, she had a moment of hope, but only to be followed by the +sickening sensation of another disappointment. The mental anguish was so +great that for some time she paid no attention to physical symptoms +which had now begun. By degrees, however, these became importunate, and +oh the relief of it! The trouble of her mind ceased when the physical +pain became acute, and therefore she welcomed it as a pleasant +distraction. She was obliged to think and be practical too; there was no +one in the house to help her. The sleeping children were of course out +of the question, and the two young + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> servants, maid-of-all-work and +nurse, nearly as much so. Besides, there was the difficulty of calling +them. She felt she must not disturb Jane who was in the nursery, for +fear of rousing the children; but should she ever get to Bridget's room, +which was further off? Step by step she climbed the stairs, clinging to +the banister with one hand, holding the candle in the other. Several +times she sank down and waited silently, but with contracted face, till +a paroxysm had passed. At last she reached the door. Bridget was awake +and had heard her coming. "Holy Mother!" she exclaimed, startled out of +her habitual sullenness by her mistress's agonised face. "Yer ill, +ma'am! Let me help you to your bed!"</p> + +<p>"Fetch the doctor and the nurse, Bridget," Mrs. Caldwell was just able +to gasp.</p> + +<p>In the urgency and excitement of the moment, there was a truce to +hostilities. Bridget jumped up, in night-dress and bare feet, and +supported her mistress to her room. There she was obliged to leave her +alone; and so it happened that, just as the grey dawn trembled with the +first flush of a new and brighter day, the child arrived unassisted and +without welcome, and sent up a wail of protest. When the doctor came at +last, and had time to attend to her, he pronounced her to be a fine +child, and declared that she had made a good beginning, and would do +well for herself, which words the nurse declared to be of happy omen. +Her father was not fit to appear until late in the day. He came in +humbly, filled with remorse for that mis-spent night, and was received +with the feeble flicker of a smile, which so touched and softened him +that he made more of the new child, and took a greater interest in her +than he had done in any of the others at the time of their birth. There +was some difficulty about a name for her. Her father proposed to call +her Elizabeth—after his sister, he said—but Mrs. Caldwell objected. +Elizabeth was Miss Gottley's name also, a fact which she recollected, +but did not mention. That she did not like the name seemed reason enough +for not choosing it; but her husband persisted, and then there was a hot +dispute on the subject above the baby's cradle. The dispute ended in a +compromise, the mother agreeing to have the child christened Elizabeth +if she were not called so; and she would not have her called Eliza, +Elsie, Elspeth, Bessie, Betsy, or Bess either. This left nothing for it +but to call her Beth, and upon consideration both parents liked the +diminutive, her father because it was unaccustomed, and her mother +because it had no association of any kind attached to it.</p> + +<p>For the first three months of her life Beth cried incessantly, as if +bewailing her advent. Then, one day, she opened her eyes wide, and +looked out into the world with interest. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span></p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was the sunshine really that first called her into conscious +existence, the blessed heat and light; up to the moment that she +recognised these with a certain acknowledgment of them, and consequently +of things in general outside herself, she had been as unconscious as a +white grub without legs. But that moment roused her, calling forth from +her senses their first response in the thrill of warmth and well-being +to which she awoke, and quickening her intellect at the same time with +the stimulating effort to discover from whence her comfort came. She +could remember no circumstance in connection with this earliest +awakening. All she knew of it was the feeling of warmth and brightness, +which she said recurred to her at odd times ever afterwards, and could +be recalled at will.</p> + +<p>Some may see in this first awakening a foreshadowing of the fact that +she was born to be a child of light, and to live in it; and certainly it +was always light for which she craved, the actual light of day, however; +but nothing she yearned for ever came to her in the form she thought of, +and thus, when she asked for sunshine it was grudgingly given, fate +often forcing her into dark dwellings; but all the time that light which +illumines the spirit was being bestowed upon her in limitless measure.</p> + +<p>The next step in her awakening was to a kind of self-consciousness. She +was lying on her nurse's lap out of doors, looking up at the sky, and +some one was saying, "Oh, you pretty thing!" But it was long years +before she connected the phrase with herself, although she smiled in +response to the voice that uttered it. Then she found herself on her +feet in a garden, moving very carefully for fear of falling; and +everything about her was gigantic, from Jane Nettles, the nurse, at +whose skirt she tugged when she wanted to attract attention, to the +brown wallflower and the purple larkspur which she could not reach to +pull. There was a thin hedge at the end of the garden, through which she +looked out on a path across a field, and a thick hedge on her left, in +which a thrush had built a nest at an immense height above her head. +Jane lifted her up to look into the nest, and there was nothing in it; +then Jane lifted her up again, and, oh! there was a blue egg there; and +Jane lifted her up a third time, and the egg had brown spots on it. The +mystery of the egg awed her. She did not ask herself how it came to be +there, but she felt a solemn wonder in the fact, and the colour caused a +sensation of pleasure, a positive thrill, to run through her. This was +her first recognition of beauty, and it was to the beauty of colour, not +of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> + form, that her senses awoke! Through life she had a keen joy and +nice discrimination in colours, and seemed to herself to have always +known their names.</p> + +<p>But those spots on the egg. She was positive that they had come between +her first and second peep, which shows how defective her faculty of +observation, which became so exact under cultivation, was to begin with. +Beth also betrayed other traits with regard to the spots, which she +carried through life—the trick of being most positive when she was +quite in the wrong, for one; and want of faith in other people, for +another.</p> + +<p>Jane said: "Did you see the spots that time, dearie?"</p> + +<p>"Spots just comed," Beth declared.</p> + +<p>"No, dearie, spots always there," Jane answered.</p> + +<p>"Spots <i>comed</i>," Beth maintained.</p> + +<p>"No, dearie. Spots always there, only you didn't see them."</p> + +<p>"Spots comed <i>now</i>!" Beth stamped, and then, because Jane shook her +head, she sat down suddenly on the gravel, and sent up a howl which +brought her father out. He chucked Jane under the chin. Jane giggled, +then made a sign; and there was Mrs. Caldwell looking from one to the +other.</p> + +<p>To Beth's recollection it seemed as if she had rapidly acquired the +experiences of this first period. Each incident that she remembered is +apparently trifling in itself, but who can say of what significance as +an indication? In those first few years, had there been any there with +intelligence to interpret, they probably would have found foreshadowings +of all she might be, and do, and suffer; and that would have been the +time to teach her. To me, therefore, these earliest impressions are more +interesting than much that occurred to her in after life, and I have +carefully collected them in the hope of finding some clue in them to +what followed. In several instances it seems to me that the impression +left by some chance observation or incident on her baby mind, made it +possible for her to do many things in after life which she certainly +never would have done but for those early influences. It would be +affectation, therefore, to apologise for such detail. Nothing can be +trivial or insignificant that tends to throw light on the mysterious +growth of our moral and intellectual being. Many a cramped soul that +struggles on in after years, vainly endeavouring to rise on a broken +wing, might, had the importance of such seeming trifles in its +development been recognised, have won its way upward from the first, +untrammelled and uninjured. It was a Jesuit, was it not, who said: "Give +me the child until it is six years old; after that you can do as you +like with it." That is the time to make an indelible impression of +principles upon the mind. In the first period of life, character is a +blossom that should be carefully touched; in the second + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> the petals +fall, and the fruit sets; it is hard and acrid then until the third +period, when, if things go well, it will ripen on the bough, and be +sweet and wholesome—if ill, it will drop off immediately, and rot upon +the ground.</p> + +<p>Beth was a combative child, always at war with Jane. There was a great +battle fought about a big black velvet bonnet that Beth wanted to wear +one day. Beth screamed and kicked and scratched and bit, and finally +went out in the bonnet triumphantly, and found herself standing alone on +the edge of a great green world dotted with yellow gorse. A hot, wide +dusty road stretched miles away in front of her; and at an infinite +distance overhead was the blue sky flecked with clouds so white and +dazzling that her eyes ached when she looked at them. She had stopped a +moment to cry, "Wait for me!" Jane walked on, however, taking no notice, +and Beth struggled after her, whimpering, out of breath, choked with +dust, scorched with heat, parched with thirst, tired to death—how she +suffered! A heartless lark sang overhead, regardless of her misery: and +she never afterwards heard a lark without recalling the long white road, +the heat, and dust, and fatigue. She tore off the velvet bonnet, and +threw it away, then began another despairing "Wait for me!" But in the +midst of the cry she saw some little yellow flowers growing in the grass +at the roadside, and plumped down then and there inconsequently to +gather them. By that time Jane was out of sight; and at the moment Beth +became aware of the fact, she also perceived an appalling expanse of +bright blue sky above her, and sat, gazing upwards, paralysed with +terror. This was her first experience of loneliness, her first terrified +sensation of immensity.</p> + +<p>Then the snowdrops and crocuses were out, and the sky grew black, and +she sat on the nursery floor and looked up at it in solemn wonder. +Flakes of snow began to fall, a few at first, then thicker and thicker, +till the air was full of them, and Jane said, "The Scotch are picking +their geese," and immediately Beth saw the Scotch sitting in some vague +scene, picking geese in frenzied haste, and throwing great handfuls of +feathers up in the air; which was probably the first independent flight +of her imagination.</p> + +<p>It is astonishing how little consciousness of time there is in these +reminiscences. The seasons are all confounded, and it is as if things +had happened not in succession but abreast. There was snow on the ground +when her brother Jim was with her in the wash-house, making horse-hair +snares to catch birds. They made running loops of the horse-hair, and +tied them on to sticks, then went out and stuck them in the ground in +the garden outside the wash-house window, sprinkled crumbs of + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> bread, +and crept carefully back to watch. First came a robin with noiseless +flight, and lit on the ground with its head on one side; but the +children were too eager, and in their excitement they made a noise, and +the robin flew away. Next came a sparrow, saw the children, saw the +crumbs, and, with the habitual self-possession of his race, stretched in +his head between the sticks, picked out the largest piece of bread, and +carried it off in triumph. Immediately afterwards a blackbird flew down, +and hopped in among the snares unconsciously. In a moment he was caught, +and, with a wild shout of joy, the children rushed out to secure their +prize; but when they reached the spot the blackbird had burst his bonds +and escaped. Then Beth threw a chunk of wood at her brother, and cut his +head open. His cries brought out the household, and Beth was well +shaken—she was always being shaken at this time—and marched off +promptly to papa's dressing-room, and made to sit on a little chair in +the middle of the floor, where she amused herself by singing at the top +of her voice—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"All around Sebastopol,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">All around the ocean,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Every time a gun goes off,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Down falls a Russian."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>She wondered why her father and mother were laughing when they came to +release her. Before they appeared, however, brother Jim, her victim, had +come to the door with his head tied up, and peeped in; and she knew that +they were friends again, because he shot ripe gooseberries at her across +the floor as if they had been marbles. There is a discrepancy here, +seeing that snow and ripe gooseberries are not in season at the same +time. It is likely, however, that she broke her brother's head more than +once, and the occasions became confounded in her recollection.</p> + +<p>When the children went to bathe off the beach, Beth would not let Jane +dip her if kicking, scratching, and screaming could prevent it. There +used to be terrible scenes between them, until at last one day somebody +else's old Scotch nurse interfered, and persuaded Beth to go into the +water with her and consent to be dipped three times. Beth went like a +lamb—instead of having to be dragged in and pushed under, given no time +to recover her breath between each dip, half choked with sand and salt +water, and finally dragged out, exhausted by the struggle, and certainly +suffering more than she had benefited by the immersion. The cold water +came up about her and took her breath away as the old Scotch nurse led +her in, and Beth clung to her hand and panted "Wait!" as she nerved +herself for the dip. Nurse had promised to wait until Beth was ready, +and it was Beth's faith + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> + in her promise that gave her courage to go +bravely through the ordeal. The old Scotch nurse never deceived her as +Jane had done, and so Beth learnt that there are people in the world you +can depend on.</p> + +<p>There was one painful circumstance in connection with those battles on +the beach. Beth was such a tiny girl, they did not think it necessary to +give her a bathing dress, and consequently she was marched into the +water with nothing on; and the agony of shame she suffered is +indescribable. But the worst of it was, the shame wore off. Jim teased +her about it and called her "a little girl," a dreadful term of reproach +in those days, when the boys were taught to consider themselves superior +beings. Beth flew at him, and fought him for it, but was beaten; and +then she took off her things in the nursery, and scampered up and down +before them all, with nothing on, just to show how little she cared.</p> + +<p>It is astonishing how small a part Beth's family play in these childish +recollections. Her father took very little notice of the children. He +was out of health and irritable, and only tried to save himself +annoyance; not to disturb him was the object of everybody's life. +Probably he only appeared on the scene when Beth was naughty, and the +recollection, being painful, was quickly banished. She remembered him +coming downstairs when she was standing in the hall one day, when her +mother was away from home. He had a letter in his hand, and asked her if +she would send her love to mamma. Her heart bounded; it seemed to her +such a tremendous thing to be asked; and she was dying to send her love; +but such an agony of shyness came upon her, she could not utter a word. +She had a little hymn-book in her hand, however, which she held out to +her father. No, that would not do. He could not send the book, only her +love. Didn't she love mamma? Didn't she! But not a word would come.</p> + +<p>All through life she was afflicted with that inability to speak at +critical times. Dumb always was she apt to be when her affections were +concerned, except occasionally, in moments of strong excitement; and in +anger, when she was driven to bay. The intensity of her feelings would +probably have made her dumb in any case in moments of emotion; but +doubtless the hardness of those about her at this impressionable period +strengthened the defect. It is impossible to escape from the hampering +influences of our infancy. Among Beth's many recollections of these +days, there was not one of a caress given or received, or of any +expression of tenderness; and so she never became familiar with the +exquisite language of love, and was long in learning that it is not a +thing to be ashamed of and concealed.</p> + +<p>Later that day, with a mighty effort, she summoned up courage + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> enough to +go down to her father. She was determined to send the message to mamma; +but when it came to the point, she was again unable to utter a word on +the subject. Her mother had gone to stay with her relations in England. +Beth found her father in the dining-room, and several other people were +present. He was standing by the sideboard, mixing whisky-and-water, so, +instead of sending her love to mamma, Beth exclaimed, confidently and +pleasantly, "If you drink whisky, you'll be drunk again."</p> + +<p>A smart slap rewarded this sally. Beth turned pale and recoiled. It was +her first taste of human injustice. To drink and to be drunk was to her +merely the natural sequence of cause and effect, and she could not +conceive why she should be slapped and turned out of the room so +promptly for uttering such a simple truth.</p> + +<p>Beth was present at many discussions between her father and mother, and +took much interest in them, all the more perhaps, because most of what +was said was a mystery to her. She wondered why any mention of the +"moon-faced Bessie" disturbed her mother's countenance. Jane Nettles, +too—when her mother was out, her father used to come and talk to Jane, +and they laughed a good deal. He admired Jane's white teeth, and the +children used to make Jane show them her teeth after that.</p> + +<p>"Papa says Jane's got nice white teeth," Beth said to her mother one +day, and she never forgot the glance which Mrs. Caldwell threw at her +husband. His eyes fell before it.</p> + +<p>"What! even the servants, Henry!" Mrs. Caldwell exclaimed, and then she +left the room. Beth learned what it all meant in after years, the career +of one of her brothers furnishing the clue. Like father, like son.</p> + +<p>It was after this that Mrs. Caldwell went to visit her relations in +England, accompanied by two of the children. It was in the summer, and +Jane took Beth to the Castle Hill that morning to see the steamer, with +her mother on board, go by. The sea was iridescent, like molten silver, +the sky was high and cloudless, and where sea and sky met and mingled on +the horizon it was impossible to determine. Numbers of steamers passed +far out. They looked quite small, and Beth did not think there was room +in any of them for her mother and brother and sister. They did not, +therefore, interest her much, nor did the policeman who came and talked +to Jane. But the Castle Hill, and the little winding path up which she +had come, the green of the grass, the brambles, the ferns, the ruined +masonry against which she leant, the union of sea and sky and shore, the +light, the colour, absorbed her, and drew her out of herself. Her soul +expanded, it spread its wings, it stretched out spiritual arms to meet +and clasp the beloved nature of which it felt itself to be a part. It +was her earliest + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> + recognition of their kinship, a glimpse of greatness, +a moment of ecstasy never to be forgotten, the first stirring in herself +of the creative faculty, for in her joy she burst out into a little +song—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Far on the borders of the Arcane."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>It was as if the pleasure played upon her, using her as a passive +instrument by which it attained to audible expression. For how should a +child know a word like Arcane? It came to her as things do which we have +known and forgotten—the whole song did in fact; but she held it as a +possession sacred to herself, and never recorded it, or told more than +that one line, although it stayed with her, lingered on her lips, and in +her heart, for the rest of her life. It was a great moment for Beth, the +moment when her further faculty first awoke. On looking back to it in +after years, she fancied she found in it confirmation of an opinion +which she afterwards formed. Genius to her was yet only another word for +soul. She could not believe that we all have souls, or that they are at +all equally developed even in those who have obtained them. She was a +child under six at this time, Jane Nettles was a woman between twenty +and thirty, and the policeman—she could not say what age he was; but +she was the only one of the three that throbbed responsive to the beauty +of the wonderful scene before them, or felt her being flooded with the +glory of the hour.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, what her parents would have called her education had begun. +She went with Mildred, her elder sister, to a day school. They used to +run down the street together without a nurse, and the sense of freedom +was delicious to Beth. They had to pass the market where the great mealy +specimen potatoes were displayed, and Mary Lynch's shop—she was the +vegetable woman, who used to talk to Mrs. Caldwell about the children +when they went there, and one or the other always called them "poor +little bodies," upon which they commented afterwards among themselves. +Mary Lynch was a large red-faced woman, and when the children wanted to +describe a stout person they always said, "As fat as Mary Lynch." One +house which Beth had to pass on her way to school made a strong +impression on her imagination. It was a gloomy abode with a broad +doorstep and deep portico, broken windows, and a mud-splashed door, from +beneath which she always expected to see a slender stream of blood +slowly trickling. For a man called Macgregor had murdered his wife +there—beaten her brains out with a poker. Beth never heard the name +Macgregor in after life without a shiver of dislike. Much of her time at +school was spent in solitary confinement for breaches of the peace. With +a face as impassive as a monkey's she would do the most mischievous +things, and was + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> + always experimenting in naughty tricks, as on one +occasion when Miss Deeble left the schoolroom for a minute, but had to +come hurrying back, recalled by wild shrieks; and found that Beth had +managed in that minute to tip up a form with four children on it, throw +their books out of the window, and sprinkle ink all over the floor. Miss +Deeble marched her downstairs to an empty kitchen, and left her sitting +on a stool in the middle of it with an A B C in her hand. But Beth took +no interest in the alphabet in those days, and hunted black-beetles with +the bellows instead of learning it. The hearthstone was the place of +execution. When she found a beetle, she would blow him along to it with +the bellows, and there despatch him. She had no horror of any creature +in her childhood, but as she matured, her whole temperament changed in +this respect, and when she met a beetle on the stairs she would turn and +fly rather than pass it, and she would feel nauseated, and shiver with +disgust for hours after if she thought of it. She knew the exact moment +that this horror came upon her; it happened when she was ten years old. +She found a beetle one day lying on its back, and thinking it was dead, +she took it up, and was swinging it by its antennæ when the creature +suddenly wriggled itself round, and twined its prickly legs about her +finger, giving her a start from which she never recovered.</p> + +<p>Beth probably got as far as A B ab, while she was at Miss Deeble's; but +if she were backward with her book, her other faculties began to be +acute. It was down in that empty kitchen that she first felt the +enchantment of music. Some one suddenly played the piano overhead and +Beth listened spell-bound. Again and again the player played, and always +the same thing, practising it. Beth knew every note. Long afterwards she +was trying some waltzes of Chopin's, and came upon one with which she +was quite familiar. She knew that she had heard it all, over and over +again, but could not think when or where. Presently, however, as she +played it, she perceived a smell of black-beetles, and instantly she was +back in that disused kitchen of Miss Deeble's, listening to the +practising overhead.</p> + +<p>All Beth's senses were acute, and from the first her memory helped +itself by the involuntary association of incongruous ideas. Many +people's recollections are stimulated by the sense of smell, but it is a +rarer thing for the sense of taste to be associated with the past in the +same way, as it was in Beth's case. There were many circumstances which +were recalled by the taste of the food she had been eating at the time +they occurred. The children often dined in the garden in those early +days, and once a piece of apple-dumpling Beth was eating slid off her +plate on to the gravelled walk. Some one picked it up, and put it on her +plate again, all covered with stones and grit, and the sight of + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> hot +apple-dumpling made her think of gravel ever afterwards, and filled her +with disgust; so that she could not eat it. She had a great aversion to +bread and butter too for a long time, but that she got over. It would +have been too great an inconvenience to have a child dislike its staple +food, and in all probability she was forced to conquer her aversion, and +afterwards she grew to like bread and butter; but still, if by any +chance the circumstances which caused her dislike to it recurred to her +when she was eating a piece, she was obliged to stop. The incident which +set up the association happened one evening when her father and mother +were out. Beth was alone in the dining-room eating bread and butter, and +Towie, the cat, came into the room with a mouse in her mouth. The mouse +was alive, and Towie let it run a little way, and then pounced down upon +it, then gave it a pat to make it run again. Beth, lying on her stomach +on the floor, watching these proceedings, naturally also became a cat +with a mouse. At last Towie began to eat her mouse, beginning with its +head, which it crushed. Beth, eating her bread and butter in imitation, +saw the white brains, but felt no disgust at the moment. The next time +she had bread and butter, however, she thought of the mouse's brains and +felt sick; and always afterwards the same association of ideas was +liable to recur to her with the same result.</p> + +<p>But even the description of anything horrifying affected her in this +way. One day when she was growing up her mother told her at dinner that +she had been on the pier that morning and had seen the body of a man, +all discoloured and swollen from being in the water a long time, towed +into the harbour by a fishing boat. Beth listened and asked questions, +as she always did on these occasions, with the deepest interest. She was +taking soup strongly flavoured with catsup at the moment, and the story +in no way interfered with her appetite; but the next time she tried +catsup, and ever afterwards, she perceived that swollen, discoloured +corpse, and immediately felt nauseated. It is curious that all these +associations of ideas are disagreeable. She had not a single pleasant +one in connection with food.</p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">All</span> + of Beth that was not eyes at this time was ears, and her brain was +as busy as a squirrel in the autumn, storing observations and +registering impressions. It does not do to trust to a child's not +understanding. It may not understand at the moment, but it will remember +all the same—all the more, perhaps, because it + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> does not understand; +and its curiosity will help it to solve the problem. Beth did humorous +things at this time, but she had no sense of humour; she was merely +experimenting. Her big eyes looked out of an impassive face solemnly; no +one suspected the phenomenal receptivity which that stolid mask +concealed, and, because the alphabet did not interest her, they formed a +poor opinion of her intellect. The truth was that she had no use for +letters or figures. The books of nature and of life were spread out +before her, and she was conning their contents to more purpose than any +one else could have interpreted them to her in those days. And as to +arithmetic, as soon as her father began to allow her a penny a week for +pocket-money, she discovered that there were two half-pennies in it, +which was all she required to know. She also mastered the system of +debit and credit, for, when she found herself in receipt of a regular +income, and had conquered the first awe of entering a shop and asking +for things, she ran into debt. She received the penny on Saturday, and +promptly spent it in sweets, but by Monday she wanted more, and the +craving was so imperative, that when Miss Deeble sent her down to the +empty kitchen in the afternoon, she could not blow black-beetles with +any enthusiasm, and began to look about for something else to interest +her. It being summer, the window was open, but it was rather out of her +reach. She managed, however, with the help of her stool, to climb on to +the sill, and there, in front of her, was the sea, and down below was +the street—a goodish drop below if she had stopped to think of it; but +Beth dropped first and thought afterwards, only realising the height +when she had come down plump, and looked up again to see what had +happened to her, surprised at the thud which had jarred her stomach and +made her feet sting. She picked herself up at once, however, and limped +away, not heeding the hurt much, so delightful was it to be out alone +without her hat. By the time she got to Mary Lynch's she was Jane +Nettles going on an errand, an assumption which enabled her to enter the +shop at her ease.</p> + +<p>"Good-day," she began. "Give me a ha'porth of pear-drops, and a ha'porth +of raspberry-drops, Mary Lynch, please. I'll pay you on Saturday."</p> + +<p>"What are you doing out alone without your hat?" Mary Lynch rejoined, +beaming upon her. "I'm afraid you're a naughty little body."</p> + +<p>"No, I'm not," Beth answered. "It's my own money." Mary Lynch laughed, +and helped her liberally, adding some cherries to the sweets; and, to +Beth's credit be it stated, the money was duly paid, and without regret, +she being her mother at the moment, looking much relieved to be able to +settle the + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> + debt, which shows that, even by this time, Beth had somehow +become aware of money-troubles, and also that she learned to read a +countenance long before she learned to read a book.</p> + +<p>She straggled home with the sweets in her hand, but did not eat them, +for now she was a lady going to give a party, and must await the arrival +of her guests. She did not go in by the front door for obvious reasons, +but up the entry down which the open wooden gutter-spout ran, at a +convenient height, from the house into the street. The wash-house was +covered with delicious white roses, which scented the summer afternoon. +Beth concealed her sweets in the rose-tree, and then leant against the +wall and buried her nose in one of the flowers, loving it. The maids +were in the wash-house; she heard them talking; it was all about what he +said and she said. Presently a torrent of dirty water came pouring down +the spout, mingling its disagreeable soapy smell with that of the +flowers. Beth plucked some petals from the rose she was smelling, set +them on the soapy water, and ran down the passage beside them, until +they disappeared in the drain in the street. This delight over, she +wandered into the garden. She was always on excellent terms with all +animals, and was treated by them with singular confidence. Towie, the +cat, had been missing for some time, but now, to Beth's great joy, she +suddenly appeared from Beth could not tell where, purring loudly, and +rubbing herself against Beth's bare legs. The sun poured down upon them, +and the sensation of the cat's warm fur above her socks was delicious. +Beth tried to lift her up in her arms, but she wriggled herself out of +them, and began to run backwards and forwards between her and a gap in +the hedge, until Beth understood that she wished her to follow her +through it into the next garden. Beth did so, and the cat led her to a +little warm nest where, to Beth's wild delight, she showed her a tiny +black kitten. Beth picked it up, and carried it, followed by the cat, +into the house in a state of breathless excitement, shrieking out the +news as she ran. Beth was immediately seized upon. What was she doing at +home when she ought to have been at school? and without her hat, too! +Beth had no explanation to offer, and was hustled off to the nursery, +and there shut up for the rest of the day. She stood in the window most +of the time, a captive princess in the witch's palace, waiting for the +fairy-prince to release her, and catching flies.</p> + +<p>The sky became overcast, and a big gun was fired. Beth's father had +something to do with the firing of big guns, and she connected this with +the gathering gloom, stories of God striking wicked people down with +thunder and lightning for their sins, and her own naughtiness, and felt +considerably awed. Presently a little boy was carried down the street on +a bed. His face + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> + looked yellow against the sheets. He was lying flat on +his back, and had a little black cap on, which was right out of doors, +but wrong in bed. He smiled up at Beth as they carried him under the +window, and she stretched out her arms to him with infinite pity. She +knew he was going to die. They all died, that family, or had something +dreadful happen to them. Jane Nettles said there was a curse upon them, +and Beth never thought of them without a shudder. That boy's sisters +both died, and one had something dreadful happen to her, for they dug +her up again, and when they opened the coffin the corpse was all in a +jelly, and every colour of the rainbow, according to Jane Nettles. Beth +believed she had been present upon the occasion, in a grass-grown +graveyard, by the wall of an old church, beneath which steps led down +into a vault. The stones of the steps were mossy, and the sun was +shining. There was a little group of people standing round, with pale, +set, solemn faces, and presently something was brought up, and they all +pressed forward to look at it. Beth could not see what it was for the +grown-up people, and never knew whether or not the whole picture had +been conjured up by her imagination; but as there was always a +foundation of fact in the impressions of this period of her life, it is +not improbable that she really was present at the exhumation, with the +curious and indefatigable Jane Nettles.</p> + +<p>Opposite the nursery window, on the other side of the road, was the +butcher's shop, in front of which the butcher made his shambles. Late in +the evening he brought out a board and set it on trestles, then he +brought a sheep, lifted it up by its legs and put it on its back on the +board, tied its feet, and cut its throat. Beth watched the operation +with grave interest, but no other feeling. She had been accustomed to +see it all her life.</p> + +<p>Presently Beth's father and mother went out together, and then Beth +stole downstairs, and out to the wash-house to find the sweets in the +white rose-tree. Mildred and Jim were doing their lessons in the +dining-room, and she burst in upon them with the sweets; but Mildred was +cross, and said:</p> + +<p>"Don't make such a noise, Beth, my head aches."</p> + +<p>The next day was Sunday. Beth knew it by the big black bonnet which +played such a large part in her childish recollections. She had a kind +of sensation of having seen herself in it, bobbing along to church, a +sort of Kate Greenaway child, with a head out of all proportion to the +rest of her body, and feeling singularly satisfied—a feeling, however, +which was less a recollection than an experience continually renewed, +for a nice gown or bonnet was always a pleasure to her.</p> + +<p>In church she sat in a big square pew on one side of the aisle, and on +the other side was another pew exactly like it, in + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> which sat a young +lady whom Beth believed to be Miss Augusta Noble in the <i>Fairchild +Family</i>. Augusta Noble was very vain, and got burnt to death for +standing on tiptoe before the fire to look at herself in a new frock in +the mirror on the mantelpiece. Beth thought it a suitable end for her, +and did not pity her at all—perhaps because she went on coming to +church regularly all the same.</p> + +<p>After the service they climbed the Castle Hill; and there was the grey +of stonework against a bright blue sky, and green of grass and trees +against the grey, and mountainous clouds of dazzling white hung over a +molten sea; and because of the beauty of it all, Beth burst into a +passion of tears.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter with that child?" her father exclaimed impatiently. +"It's very odd other people can bring up their children properly, +Caroline, but you never seem to be able to manage yours."</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with you, you tiresome child?" Mrs. Caldwell +exclaimed, shaking Beth by the arm. Beth only sobbed the more. "Look," +said her mother, pointing to a small lake left by the sea on the shore +when the tide went out, where the children used to wade knee-deep, or +bathe when it was too rough for them to go into the sea; "look, there's +the pond, that bright round thing over there. And look below, near the +Castle—that great green mound is the giant's grave. When the giant died +they buried him there, and he was so big, he reached all that length +when they laid him in the ground."</p> + +<p>"And when he stood up where did he reach to?" said Beth, interested in a +moment.</p> + +<p>"Oh, when he sat here, I should think he could make a footstool of his +own grave, and when he stood up he could look over the Castle."</p> + +<p>Beth, with big dilated eyes and wet cheeks, saw him do both, and was +oppressed to tears no more that day by delight and wonder of the +beautiful; but she was always liable to these paroxysms, the outcome of +an intensity of pleasure which was positive pain. So, from the first, +she was keenly susceptible to outdoor influences, and it was now that +her memory was stored with impressions which were afterwards of +inestimable value to her, for she never lived amongst the same kind of +scenery again.</p> + +<p>The children had the run of some gentleman's grounds, which they called +The Walks. There were banks of flowers, and sidewalks where the London +pride grew, and water, and great trees with hollows in them where the +water lodged. Beth called these fairy wells, and put her fingers in to +see how deep they were, and there were dead leaves in them; and there, +on a memorable + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> + occasion, she found her first skeleton leaf, and told +Jane Nettles she really didn't know before that there were such things. +Once there was a wasp's nest hanging from a branch, and they met a young +man coming away from it, holding a handkerchief to his face. He stopped +to tell Jane Nettles how he had been stung, and the children wandered +off unheeded to look at the nest. It was all grey and gossamer, like +cobwebs laid in layers. Beth was an Indian scout inspecting it from +behind a neighbouring tree; and then she shelled it with sticks, but did +not wait to see it surrender.</p> + +<p>They picked up horse-chestnuts from under the trees, in the season, and +hammered the green rind off with stones for the joy of seeing the +beautiful shining, slippery, dark brown, or piebald, polished fruit +within; and also, when there were wet leaves on the ground, they +gathered walnuts from out of the long tangled grass, and stained their +fingers picking off the covering, which was mealy-green when it burst, +and smelt nice; but the nut itself, when they came to it, was always +surprisingly small. There were horrid mahogany-coloured pieces of liver +put about the walks on sticks sometimes. Jane Nettles said they were to +poison the dogs because they came in and destroyed the flowers. Beth +wondered how it was people could eat liver if it poisoned dogs, and was +careful afterwards not to touch it herself. Most children would have +worried the reason out of their nurse, but Jane Nettles was not amiable, +and Beth could never bring herself to ask a question of any one who was +likely either to snub her for asking, or to jeer at her for not knowing. +There are unsympathetic people who have a way of making children feel +ashamed of their ignorance, and rather than be laughed at, a sensitive +child will pretend to know. Beth was extraordinarily sensitive in this +respect, and so it happened that, in later life, she sometimes found +herself in ignorance of things which less remarkable people had learnt +in their infancy for the asking.</p> + +<p>These were certainly days of delight to Beth, but the charm of them was +due less to people than to things—to some sight or scent of nature, the +smell of new-mown hay from a waggon they had stood aside to let pass in +a narrow lane, a glimpse of a high bank on the other side of the road—a +high grassy bank, covered and crowned with trees, chiefly chestnuts, on +which the sun shone; hawthorn hedgerows from which they used to pick the +green buds children call bread-and-butter, and eat them; and one +privet-hedge in their own garden, an impenetrable hedge, on the other +side of which, as Beth imagined, all kinds of wonderful things took +place. The flowers of those early days were crocuses, snowdrops, white +roses, a little yellow flower they called ladies' fingers, sea-pinks, +and London pride—particularly + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> + London pride. In the walks Jane Nettles +used to teach her the wonderful rhyme of—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"London Bridge is broken down,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"> Grand, said the little Dee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"> London Bridge is broken down,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Fair-Lade-ee."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>And so the rhyme, London pride amongst the rock-work, the ornamental +water, a rustic bridge, shining laurel leaves, mahogany-coloured liver, +warmth, light, and sweet airs all became mingled in one gracious memory.</p> + +<p>People, however, as has been already shown, also came into her +consciousness, but with less certainty of pleasing, wherefore she +remembered them less, for it was always her habit to banish a +disagreeable thought if she could. One day she went into the garden with +her spade and an old tin biscuit-box. She put the box on the ground +beside her, with the lid off, and began to dig. By-and-by the kitten +came crooning and sidling up to her, and hopped into the box. Beth +instantly put on the lid, and the kitten was a corpse which must be +buried. She hurriedly dug its grave, put in the box, and covered it up +with earth. Just as she had finished, a gruff voice exclaimed: "What are +ye doing there, ye little divil?" and there was old Krangle the +gardener, looking at her over the hedge. "Dig it up again directly," he +said, and Beth, much startled, dug it up quicker than she had buried it. +The kitten had been but loosely covered, and was not much the worse, but +had got some earth in its eye, which was very sore afterwards. People +wondered what had hurt it, and Beth looked from one to the other and +listened with grave attention to their various suppositions on the +subject. She said nothing, however, and Krangle also held his peace, +which led to a very good understanding between them. Krangle had a +cancer on his lip, and Beth was forbidden to kiss him for fear of +catching it. He had a garden of his own too, and a pig, and little +boiled potatoes in his cottage. The doctor's brother died of cancer, and +Beth supposed he had been naughty and kissed old Krangle, though she +wondered he cared to, as Krangle had a very prickly chin. The doctor +often came to see papa. He used to talk about the Bible, and then the +children were sent out of the room. Once Beth hid under the table to +hear what he said. It was all about God, whom it appeared that he did +not like. He had a knob at the end of his nose, and Beth laughed at it, +in punishment of which, as she used to believe, her own nose developed a +little knob at the end. Her mind was very much exercised about the +doctor and his household. He and his brother and sister used to live +together, but now he lived alone, and on a bed in one of + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> the rooms, +according to Jane Nettles, there were furs, and lovely silks, satins, +and laces, all being eaten by moths and destroyed because there was no +one to look after them. It seemed such a pity, but whose were they? +Where was the lady?</p> + +<p>Bridget used to come up to the nursery when the children were in bed, to +talk to Jane Nettles, and look out of the window. Those gossips in the +nursery were a great source of disturbance to Beth when she ought to +have been composing herself to sleep. She recollected nothing of the +conversations more corrupting than that ghastly account of how the girl +was exhumed, so it is likely that the servants exercised some discretion +when they dropped their voices to a whisper, as they often did; but +these whispered colloquies made her restless and cross, and brought down +upon her a smart order to go to sleep, to which she used to answer +defiantly, "I will if you'll ask me a riddle." One of the riddles was: +"Between two sticks, between two stones, between two old men's +shin-bones. What's that?" The answer had something to do with a +graveyard, but Beth could not remember what.</p> + +<p>She used to suffer a small martyrdom in her little crib on those +evenings from what she called "snuff up her nose," a hot, dry, burning +sensation which must have been caused by a stuffy room, and the feverish +state she tossed herself into when she was kept awake after her regular +hour for sleep. Sometimes she sat up in bed suddenly, and cried aloud. +Then Jane Nettles would push her down again on her pillow roughly, and +threaten to call mamma if she wasn't good directly. Occasionally mamma +heard her, and came up of her own accord, and shook her by the shoulder, +and scolded her. Then Beth would lie still sobbing silently, and +wretched as only a lonely, uncomprehended, and uncomplaining child can +be. No one had the faintest conception of what she suffered. Her +naughtinesses were remembered against her, but her latent tenderness was +never suspected. Once the old Doctor said: "That's a peculiarly +sensitive, high-strung, nervous child; you must be gentle with her," and +both parents had stared at him. They were matter-of-fact creatures +themselves, comparatively speaking, with a notion that such nonsense as +nervousness should be shaken out of a child.</p> + +<p>At dinner, one day, Beth saw little creatures crawling in a piece of +cheese she had on her plate, and uttered an exclamation of disgust.</p> + +<p>"Those are only mites, you silly child," her father said, and then to +her horror, he took up the piece, and ate it. "Do look at that child, +Caroline!" he exclaimed, "she's turned quite pale."</p> + +<p>Beth puzzled her head for long afterwards to know what it meant to turn +pale. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p> + +<p>Little seeds of superstition were sown in her mind at this time, and +afterwards flourished. She found a wedding-ring in her first piece of +Christmas cake, and was told she would be the first of the party to +marry, which made her feel very important.</p> + +<p>Being so sensitive herself, she was morbidly careful of the feelings of +others, and committed sins of insincerity without compunction in her +efforts to spare them. She and Mildred were waiting ready dressed one +day to go and pay a call with mamma. Beth had her big bonnet on, and was +happy; and Mildred also was in a high state of delight. She said Beth's +breath smelt of strawberries, and wanted to know what her own smelt of.</p> + +<p>"Raspberries," Beth answered instantly. It was not true, but Beth felt +that something of the kind was expected of her, and so responded +sympathetically. When they got to the house, they were shown into an +immense room, and wandered about it. Beth upset some cushions, and had +awful qualms, expecting every moment to be pounced upon, and shaken; but +she forgot her fright on approaching her hostess, and discovering to her +great surprise that she was busy doing black monkeys on a grey ground in +woolwork. She was astonished to find that it was possible to do such +wonderful work, and she wanted to be taught immediately; but her mother +made her ashamed of herself for supposing that <i>she</i> could do it, silly +little body. They stayed dinner, and Beth cried with rage because the +servant poured white sauce over her fish, and without asking her too. +The fish was an island, and Beth was the hungry sea, devouring it bit by +bit. Of course if you put white sauce over it, you converted it into a +table with a white cloth on, or something of that kind, which you could +not eat, so the fish was spoilt. She got into a difficulty, too, about +Miss Deeble's drawing-room, which was upstairs, overlooking the bay, and +you could only see the water from the window, so there were +water-colours on the wall. Her mother smilingly tried to explain, but +Beth stamped, and stuck to her point; the water accounted for the +water-colours.</p> + +<p>On the way home, Beth found a new interest in life. The mill had been +burnt down, and they went to see the smouldering embers, and Beth smelt +fire for the first time. The miller's family had been burnt out, and +were sheltering in a shed. One little boy had his fingers all crumpled +up from the fire. Beth's benevolence awoke. She was all sympathetic +excitement, and wanted to do something for somebody. The miller's wife +was lying on a mattress on the floor. She had a little baby, a new one, +a pudgy red-looking thing. Mrs. Caldwell fed the other children with +bread-and-milk, and Beth offered to teach them their letters.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell laughed at her: "<i>You</i> teach them their + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> letters!" she +exclaimed. "You had better learn your own properly." And Mildred also +jeered. Beth subsided, crimson with shame at being thus lowered in +everybody's estimation. She was deficient in self-esteem, and required +to be encouraged. Praise merely gave her confidence; but her mother +never would praise her. She brought all her children up on the same +plan, regardless of their different dispositions. It made Mildred vain +to praise her, and therefore Beth must not be praised; and so her mother +checked her mental growth again and again instead of helping her to +develop it. "It's no use your trying to do that, Beth, you can't," she +would say, when Beth would have done it easily, if only she had been +assured that she could.</p> + +<p>Beth had a strange dream that night after the fire, which made a lasting +impression upon her. Dorman's Isle was a green expanse, flat as a table, +and covered with the short grass that grows by the sea. At high tide it +was surrounded by water, but when the tide was low, it rested on great +grey, rugged rocks, as the lid of a box rests upon its sides. Between +the grey of the rocks and the green of the grass there was a fringe of +sea-pinks. That night she dreamt that she was under Dorman's Isle, and +it was a great bare cave, not very high, and lighted by torches which +people held in their hands. There were a number of people, and they were +all members of her own family, ancestors in the dresses of their day, +distant relations—numbers of strange people whom she had never heard +of; as well as her own father and mother, brothers and sisters. She knew +she was under Dorman's Isle, but she knew also that it was the dark +space beneath the stage of a theatre. When she entered, the rest of the +family were already assembled; but they none of them spoke to each +other, and the doors kept opening and shutting, and the people seemed to +melt away, until at last only three or four remained, and they were just +going. She saw the shine on the paint of the door-posts, and the smoke +of the torches, as they let themselves out. Then they had all gone, and +left her alone in a cave full of smoke. Vainly she struggled to follow +them, the doors were fast, the smoke was smothering her, and in the +agony of a last effort to escape she awoke.</p> + +<p>In after days, when Beth began to think, she used to wonder how it was +she knew those people were her ancestors, and that the place was like +any part of a theatre. She had never heard either of ancestors or +theatres at that time. Was it recollection? Or is there some more +perfect power to know than the intellect—a power lying latent in the +whole race, which will eventually come into possession of it; but with +which, at present, only some few rare beings are perfectly endowed. Beth +had the sensation of having been nearer to something in her infancy than +she ever was + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> + again—nearer to knowing what it is the trees +whisper—what the murmur means, the all-pervading murmur which sounds +incessantly when everything is hushed, as at night; nearer to the +"arcane" of that evening on the Castle Hill when she first felt her +kinship with nature, and burst into song. It may have been hereditary +memory, a knowledge of things transmitted to her by her ancestors along +with their features, virtues, and vices; but, at any rate, she herself +was sure that she possessed a power of some kind in her infancy which +gradually lapsed as her intellectual faculties developed. She was +conscious that the senses had come between her and some mysterious joy +which was not of the senses, but of the spirit. There lingered what +seemed to be the recollection of a condition anterior to this, a +condition of which no tongue can tell, which is not to be put into +words, or made evident to those who have no recollection; but which some +will comprehend by the mere allusion to it. All her life long Beth +preserved a half consciousness of this something—something which eluded +her—something from which she gradually drifted further away as she grew +older—some sort of vision which opened up fresh tracts to her; but +whether of country, or whether of thought, she could not say. Only, when +it came to her, all was immeasurable about her; and she was above—above +in a great calm through which she moved without any sort of effort that +is known to us; she just thought it, and was there; while humanity +dwindled away into insignificance below.</p> + +<p>One other strange vision she had which she never forgot. With her +intellect, she believed it to have been a dream, but her further faculty +always insisted that it was a recollection. She was with a large company +in an indescribable, hollow space, bare of all furnishments because none +were required; and into this space there came a great commotion, bright +light and smoke, without heat or sense of suffocation. Then she was +alone, making for an aperture; struggling and striving with pain of +spirit to gain it; and when she had found it, she shot through, and +awoke in the world. She awoke with a terrible sense of desolation upon +her, and with the consciousness of having traversed infinite space at +infinite speed in an interval of time which her mortal mind could not +measure.</p> + +<p>All through life, when she was in possession of her further faculty, and +perceived by that means—which was only at fitful intervals, doubtless +because of unfavourable circumstances and surroundings—she was calm, +strong, and confident. She looked upon life as from a height, viewing it +both in detail and as a whole. But when she had only her intellect to +rely upon, all was uncertain, and she became weak, vacillating, and +dependent. So that she appeared to be a singular mixture of weakness +and + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> + strength, courage and cowardice, faith and distrust; and just what +she would do depended very much on what was expected of her, or what +influence she was under, and also on some sudden impulse which no one, +herself included, could have anticipated.</p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">Up</span> to this time, Beth's reminiscences jerk along from incident to +incident, but now there come the order and sequence of an eventful +period, perfectly recollected. The date is fixed by a change of +residence. Her father, who was a commander in the coastguard, was +transferred on promotion from the north of Ireland to another +appointment in the wild west, and Beth was just entering upon her +seventh year when they moved. Captain Caldwell went on in advance to +take up his appointment, and Jim accompanied him; Mildred, Beth, and +Bernadine, the youngest, who had arrived two years after Beth, being +left to follow with their mother. The elder children had been sent to +England to be educated. In their father's absence Mildred and Bernadine +were transferred to their mother's room, Jane Nettles and Bridget, the +sulky, had disappeared, and Kitty slept in the nursery with Beth. Beth +had grown too long for her crib, but still had to sleep in it, and her +legs were cramped at night and often ached because she could not stretch +them out, and the pain kept her awake.</p> + +<p>"Mamma, my legs do ache in bed," she said one day.</p> + +<p>"Beth, you really <i>are</i> a whiny child, you always have a grievance," her +mother complained.</p> + +<p>"But, mamma, they <i>do</i> ache."</p> + +<p>"Well, it's only growing pains," Mrs. Caldwell replied with a satisfied +air, as if to name the trouble were to ease it. And so Beth's legs ached +on unrelieved, and, when they kept her awake, Kitty became the object of +her contemplation. The sides of the crib were like the seat of a +cane-bottomed chair, and Beth had enlarged one of the holes by fidgeting +at it with her fingers. This was her look-out station. A night-light had +been conceded to her nervousness at the instance of Dr. Gottley, when it +became a regular thing for her to wake in the dark out of one of her +vivid dreams, and shriek because she could not see where she was. The +usual beating and shaking had been tried to cure her of her nonsense, +but this sensible treatment only seemed to make her worse, she was such +a tiresome child, till at last, when Dr. Gottley threatened serious +consequences, the light was allowed, a dim little float that burned on +an inch of oil in a glass of water, + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> + and made Kitty look so funny when +she came up to bed. Kitty began to undress, and at the same time to +mutter her prayers, as soon as she got into the room; and sometimes she +would go down on her knees and beat her breast, and sigh and groan to +the Blessed Virgin, beseeching her to help her. Beth thought at first +she was in great distress, and pitied her, but after a time she believed +that Kitty was enjoying herself, perhaps because she also had begun to +enjoy these exercises. Beth had been taught to say her Protestant +prayers, but not made to feel that she was addressing them to any +particular personality that appealed to her imagination, as Kitty's +Blessed Lady did.</p> + +<p>"Kitty, Kitty," she cried one night, sitting up in her crib, with a +great dry sob. "Tell <i>me</i> how to do it. I want to speak to her too."</p> + +<p>Kitty, who was on her knees on the floor, with her rosary clasped in her +hands, her arms and shoulders bare, and her dark hair hanging down her +back, looked up, considerably startled: "Holy Mother! how you frightened +me!" she exclaimed. "Go to sleep."</p> + +<p>"But I <i>want</i> to speak to her," Beth persisted.</p> + +<p>"Arrah, be good now, Miss Beth," Kitty coaxed, still on her knees.</p> + +<p>"I'll be good if you'll tell me what to say," Beth bargained.</p> + +<p>Kitty rose from her knees, went to the side of the crib, and looked down +at the child.</p> + +<p>"What do ye want to say to her at all?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," Beth answered. "I just want to speak to her. I just want +to say, 'Holy Mother, come close, I love you. Stay by me all night long, +and when the daylight comes don't forget me.' How would you say that, +Kitty?"</p> + +<p>"Bless your purty eyes, darlint!" said Kitty, "just say it that way +every time. It couldn't be better said, not by the praste himself. An' +if the Blessed Mother ever hears anything from this world," she added in +an undertone, "she'll hear that. But turn over now, an' go to sleep, +honey. See! I'll stand here till ye do, and sing to you!"</p> + +<p>Beth turned over on her left side with her face to the wall, and settled +herself to sleep contentedly, while Kitty stood beside her, patting her +shoulder gently, and crooning in a low sweet voice—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"> "Look down, O Mother Mary,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">From thy bright throne above;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Send down upon thy children<br /></span> +<span class="i3">One holy glance of love!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And if a heart so tender<br /></span> +<span class="i3">With pity flows not o'er,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Then turn, O Mother Mary,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">And smile on me no more."<br /></span> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span></div></div> + +<p>As Beth listened her little heart expanded, and presently the Blessed +Virgin stood beside her bed, a heavenly vision, like Kitty, with dark +hair growing low on her forehead and hanging down her back, blue eyes, +and an earnest, guileless face. Beth's little mouth, drooping with +dissatisfaction ordinarily, curled up at the corners, and so, thoroughly +tranquillised, she fell happily asleep, with a smile on her lips.</p> + +<p>Kitty bent low to look at her, and shook her head several times. +"Coaxin's better nor bating you, anyway," she muttered. "But what are +they going to do wid ye at all?" She stood up, and raised her clasped +hands. "Holy Mother, it 'ud be well maybe if ye'd take her to +yourself—just now—God forgive me for saying it."</p> + +<p>Next morning Mrs. Caldwell was sitting at breakfast with Beth and +Mildred. Every moment she glanced at the window, and at last the postman +passed. She listened, but there was no knock, and her heart sank.</p> + +<p>"Beth, will you stop drumming with your spoon?" she exclaimed irritably. +As she spoke, however, Kitty came in with the expected letter in her +hand, and Mrs. Caldwell's countenance cleared: "I thought the postman +had passed," she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"No, m'em," Kitty rejoined. "I was standin' at the door, an' he gave me +the letter."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell had opened it by this time, but it was very short. "How +often am I to tell you not to stand at the door, letting in the cold +air, Kitty?" she snapped.</p> + +<p>"And how'd I sweep the steps, m'em, if you plase, when I'm not to stand +at the door?"</p> + +<p>But Mrs. Caldwell was reading the letter, and again her countenance +cleared. "Papa wants us to go to him as soon as ever we can get ready!" +was her joyful exclamation. "And, oh, they've had such snow! See, +Mildred, here's a sketch of the chapel nearly buried."</p> + +<p>"Oh, let me see, too," Beth cried, running round the table to look over +Mildred's shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Did papa draw that? How <i>wonderful</i>!"</p> + +<p>"Beth, don't lean on me so," Mildred said crossly, shaking her off.</p> + +<p>The sketch, which was done in ink on half a sheet of paper, showed a +little chapel with great billows of snow rolling along the sides and up +to the roof. After breakfast, Mildred sat down and began to copy it in +pencil, to Beth's intense surprise. The possibility of copying it +herself would never have occurred to her, but when she saw Mildred doing +it of course she must try too. She could make nothing of it, however, +till Mildred showed her how to place each stroke, and then she was very +soon weary + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> + of the effort, and gave it up, yawning. Drawing was not to +be one of her accomplishments.</p> + +<p>Kitty was to accompany them to the west.</p> + +<p>When the day of departure arrived, a great coach and pair came to the +door, and the luggage was piled up on it. Beth, with her mouth set, and +her eyes twice their normal size from excitement, was everywhere, +watching everybody, afraid to miss anything that happened. Her mother's +movements were a source of special interest to her. At the last moment +Mrs. Caldwell slipped away alone to take leave of the place which had +been the first home of her married life. She was a young girl when she +came to it, the daughter of a country gentleman, accustomed to luxury, +but right ready to enjoy poverty with the man of her heart; and poverty +enough she had had to endure, and sickness and sorrow too—troubles +inevitable—besides some of those other troubles, which are the harder +to bear because they are not inevitable. But still, she had had her +compensations, and it was of these she thought as she took her last +leave of the little place. She went to the end of the garden first, +closely followed by Beth, and looked through the thin hedge out across +the field. She seemed to be seeing things which were farther away than +Beth's eyes could reach. Then she went to an old garden seat, touched it +tenderly, and stood looking down at it for some seconds. Many a summer +evening she had sat there at work while her husband read to her. It was +early spring, and the snowdrops and crocuses were out. She gathered a +little bunch of them. When she had made the tour of the garden, she +returned to the house, and went into every room, Beth following her +faithfully, at a safe distance. In the nursery she stood some little +time looking round at the bare walls, and seeming to listen expectantly. +No doubt she heard ghostly echoes of the patter of children's feet, the +ring of children's voices. As she turned to go she pressed her +handkerchief to her eyes. In her own room she lingered still longer, +going from one piece of furniture to another, and laying her hand on +each. It was handsome furniture, such as a lady should have about her, +and every piece represented a longer or shorter period of self-denial, +both on her own part and on her husband's, and a proportionately keen +joy in the acquisition of it. She remembered so well when the wardrobe +came home, and the dressing-table too, and the mahogany drawers. The +furniture was to follow to the new home, and each piece would still have +its own history, but, once it was moved from its accustomed place, new +associations would have to be formed, and that was what she dreaded. She +could picture the old home deserted, and herself yearning for it, and +for the old days; but she could not imagine a new home or a new + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> chapter +of life with any great interest or pleasure in it, anything, in fact, +but anxiety.</p> + +<p>When at last she left the house, she was quite overcome to find that a +little crowd of friends of every degree had collected to wish her good +speed. She went from one to the other, shaking hands, and answering +their words in kindly wise. Mary Lynch gave Beth a currant-cake, and +lifted her into the coach, though she could quite well have got in by +herself. Then they were off, and Mrs. Caldwell stood at the door, wiping +her eyes, and gazing at the little house till they turned the corner of +the street, and lost sight of it for ever.</p> + +<p>The tide was out, Dorman's green Isle rested on its grey rocks, the pond +shone like a mirror on the shore, and the young grass was springing on +the giant's grave; but the branches were still bare and brown on the +Castle Hill, and the old grey castle stood out whitened by contrast with +a background of dark and lowering sky. Beth's highly-strung nerves, +already overstrained by excitement, broke down completely under the +oppression of those heavy clouds, and she became convulsed with sobs. +Kitty took her on her knee, but tried in vain to soothe her before the +currant-cake and the motion of the coach had made her deadly sick, after +which she dozed off from sheer exhaustion.</p> + +<p>The rest of the journey was a nightmare of nausea to her. She was +constantly being lifted out of the carriage, and made to lie on a sofa +somewhere while the horses were being changed, or put to bed for the +night, and dragged up again unrefreshed in the early morning, and +consigned once more to misery. Sometimes great dark mountains towered +above her, filling her with dread; and sometimes a long lonely level of +bare brown bogs was all about her, overwhelming her little soul with +such a terrible sense of desolation that she cowered down beside Kitty, +and clung to her shivering.</p> + +<p>Once her mother shook her for something, and Beth turned faint.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with her, Kitty?" Mrs. Caldwell exclaimed, alarmed by +her white face.</p> + +<p>"You've jest shook the life out of her, m'em, I think," Kitty answered +her tranquilly: "An' ye'll not rare her that way, I'm thinking."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell began to dislike Kitty.</p> + +<p>On the third day they drove down a delightful road, with hedges on +either hand, footpaths, and trees, among which big country-houses +nestled. The mountains were still in the neighbourhood, but not near +enough to be awesome. On one side of the road was a broad shallow +stream, so clear you could see the brown stones at the bottom, a +salmon-stream with weirs and waterfalls. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p> + +<p>They were nearing a town, and Kitty began to put the things together. +Beth became interested. Mamma looked out of the window every instant, +and at last she exclaimed in a tone of relief, which somehow belied the +words: "Here's papa! I <i>knew</i> he would come!" And there was a horse at +the window, and papa was on the horse, looking in at them. Mamma's face +became quite rosy, and she laughed a good deal and showed her teeth. +Beth had not noticed them before.</p> + +<p>"What are you staring at, Beth?" Mildred whispered.</p> + +<p>"Mamma's all pink," Beth said.</p> + +<p>"That's blushing," said Mildred.</p> + +<p>"What's blushing?" said Beth.</p> + +<p>"Getting pink."</p> + +<p>"What does she do it for?"</p> + +<p>"She can't help it."</p> + +<p>Beth continued to stare, and at last Mrs. Caldwell noticed it, and asked +her what she was looking at.</p> + +<p>"You've got nice white teeth," said Beth. Mrs. Caldwell smiled.</p> + +<p>"Have you only just discovered that?" papa asked through the window.</p> + +<p>"You never told me," Beth protested, thinking herself reproached. "You +said Jane Nettles had."</p> + +<p>The smile froze on mamma's lips, and papa's horse became unmanageable. +Beth saw there was something wrong, and stopped, looking from one to the +other intently.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell recovered herself. "What a stolid face she has!" she +remarked presently by way of breaking an awkward pause.</p> + +<p>Beth wondered what "stolid" meant, and who "she" was.</p> + +<p>"She doesn't look well," papa observed.</p> + +<p>"She's jest had the life shook out of her, sir," Kitty put in.</p> + +<p>"Kitty, how dare you?" Mrs. Caldwell began.</p> + +<p>"It's to the journey I'm alludin' now, m'em," Kitty explained with +dignity. "The child can't bear the travellin'."</p> + +<p>"Well, it won't last much longer now," said papa, and then made some +remark to mamma in Italian, which brought back her good-humour. They +always spoke Italian to each other, because papa did not know French so +well as mamma did. Beth supposed at that time that all grown-up people +spoke French or Italian to each other, and she used to wonder which she +would speak when she was grown up.</p> + +<p>They stopped at an inn for an hour or two, for there was still another +stage of this interminable journey. Mildred had a bag with a big doll in +it, and some almond-sweets. She left it on a window-seat when they went +to have something to eat, and when she thought of it again it was +nowhere to be found. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p> + +<p>"They would steal the teeth out of your head in this God-forsaken +country," Captain Caldwell exclaimed, in a tone of exasperation.</p> + +<p>An awful vision of igneous rocks, with mis-shapen creatures prowling +about amongst them, instantly appeared to Beth in illustration of a +God-forsaken country, but she tried vainly to imagine how stealing teeth +out of your head was to be managed.</p> + +<p>When they set off again, and had left the grey town with its green trees +and clear rivulet behind, the road lay through a wild and desolate +region. Great dark mountains rolled away in every direction, and were +piled up above the travellers to the very sky. The scene was most +melancholy in its grandeur, and Beth, gazing at it fascinated, with big +eyes dilated to their full extent, became exceedingly depressed. At one +turn of the way, in a field below, they saw a gentleman carrying a gun, +and attended by a party of armed policemen.</p> + +<p>"That's Mr. Burke going over his property," Captain Caldwell observed to +his wife. "He's unpopular just now, and daren't move without an escort. +His life's not worth a moment's purchase a hundred yards from his own +gate, and I expect he'll be shot like a dog some day, with all his +precautions."</p> + +<p>"Oh, why does he stay?" Mrs. Caldwell exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Just pluck," her husband answered; "and he likes it. It certainly does +add to the interest of life."</p> + +<p>"O Henry! don't speak like that," Mrs. Caldwell remonstrated. "They +can't owe you any grudge."</p> + +<p>Captain Caldwell flipped a fly from his horse's ear.</p> + +<p>Beth gazed down at the doomed gentleman, and fairly quailed for him. She +half expected to see the policemen turn on him and shoot him before her +eyes, and a strange excitement gradually grew upon her. She seemed to be +seeing and hearing and feeling without eyes, or ears, or a body.</p> + +<p>The carriage rocked like a ship at sea, and once or twice it seemed to +be going right over.</p> + +<p>"What a dreadfully bad road!" Mrs. Caldwell exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Yes," her husband rejoined, "the roads about here are the very devil. +This is one of the best. Do you see that one over there?" pointing with +his whip to a white line that zigzagged across a neighbouring mountain. +"It's disused now. That's Gallows Hill, where a man was hanged."</p> + +<p>Beth gazed at the spot with horror. "I see him!" she cried.</p> + +<p>"See whom?" said her mother.</p> + +<p>"I see the man hanging."</p> + +<p>"Oh, nonsense!" Mrs. Caldwell exclaimed. "Why, the man was hanged ages +ago. He isn't there now."</p> + +<p>"You must speak the truth, young lady," papa said severely. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span></p> + +<p>Beth, put to shame by the reproof, shrank into herself. She was keenly +sensitive to blame. But all the same her great grey eyes were riveted on +the top of the hill, for there, against the sky, she did distinctly see +the man dangling from the gibbet.</p> + +<p>"Kitty," she whispered, "don't you see him?"</p> + +<p>"Whisht, darlint," Kitty said, covering Beth's eyes with her hand. "I +don't see him. But I'll not be after calling ye a liar because ye do, +for I guess ye see more nor most, Holy Mother purtect us! But whisht +now, you mustn't look at him any more."</p> + +<p>The carriage came to the brow of the mountain, and down below was their +destination, Castletownrock, a mere village, consisting principally of +one long, steep street. Some distance below the village again, the great +green waves of a tempestuous sea broke on a dangerous coast.</p> + +<p>"The two races don't fuse," papa was saying to mamma, "in this part of +the country, at all events. There's an Irish and an English side to the +street. The English side has a flagged footpath, and the houses are neat +and clean, and well-to-do; on the Irish side all is poverty and dirt and +confusion."</p> + +<p>Just outside the village, a little group of people waited to welcome +them—Mr. Macbean the rector, Captain Keene, the three Misses Keene, and +Jim.</p> + +<p>The carriage was stopped, and they all got out and walked the rest of +the distance to the inn, where they were to stay till the furniture +arrived. On the way down the street they saw their new home. It made no +impression on Beth. But she recognised the Roman Catholic Chapel on the +other side of the road from papa's drawing, only it looked different +because there was no snow.</p> + +<p>The "gentleman and lady" who kept the inn, Mr. and Mrs. Mayne, with +their two daughters, met them at the door, and shook hands with mamma, +and kissed the children.</p> + +<p>Then they went into the inn parlour, and there was wine and plum-cake, +and Dr. and Mrs. Macdougall came with their little girl Lucy, who was +eleven years old, Mildred's age.</p> + +<p>Mr. Macbean, the rector, who was tall and thin, and had a brown beard +that waggled when he talked, drew Beth to his side, and began to ask her +questions, just when she wanted so much to hear what everybody else was +saying, too.</p> + +<p>"Well, and what have you been taught?" he began.</p> + +<p>Beth gazed at him blankly.</p> + +<p>"Do you love God?" he proceeded, putting his hand on her head.</p> + +<p>Beth looked round the room, perplexed, then fixed her eyes on his beard, +and watched it waggle with interest. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ask her if she knows anything about the other gentleman," Captain Keene +put in jocosely—"here's to his health!" and he emptied his glass.</p> + +<p>Beth's great eyes settled upon him with sudden fixity.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you never heard of the devil?" he proceeded.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, I have," was Beth's instant and unexpected rejoinder. "The +devil is a bad road."</p> + +<p>There was an explosion of laughter at this.</p> + +<p>"But you said so, papa," Beth remonstrated indignantly.</p> + +<p>"My dear child, I said just the reverse."</p> + +<p>"What's the reverse?" said Beth, picturing another personality.</p> + +<p>"There now, that will do," Mrs. Caldwell interposed. "Little bodies must +be seen and not heard."</p> + +<p>Mr. Macbean stroked Beth's head—"There is something in here, I expect," +he observed.</p> + +<p>"Not much, I'm afraid," Mrs. Caldwell answered. "We've hardly been able +to teach her anything."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" Mr. Macbean ejaculated, reflecting on the specimen he had heard of +the method pursued. "You must let me see what <i>I</i> can do."</p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">In</span> a few days all the bustle of getting into the new house began. The +furniture arrived in irregular batches. Some of it came and some of it +did not come. When a box was opened there was nothing that was wanted in +it, only things that did not go together, and mamma was worried, and +papa was cross.</p> + +<p>The workpeople were wild and ignorant, and only trustworthy as long as +they were watched. They were unaccustomed to the most ordinary comforts +of civilised life, particularly in the way of furniture. When the family +arrived at the house one morning, they found Mrs. Caldwell's wardrobe, +mahogany drawers, and other articles of bedroom furniture, set up in +conspicuous positions in the sitting-room, and the carpenter was much +ruffled when he was ordered to take them upstairs.</p> + +<p>"Shure it's mad they are," he remonstrated to one of the servants, "to +have sich foine things put in a bedroom where nobody'll see thim."</p> + +<p>The men came up from the coastguard station to scrape the walls, and +Ellis, the petty officer, used the bread-knife, and broke it, and papa +bawled at him. Beth was sorry for Ellis.</p> + +<p>The house was built of stone, and very damp. There was a great deal of +space in it, but little accommodation. On the ground-floor were a huge +hall, kitchen, pantry and sitting-room, + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> + all flagged. The sitting-room +was the only one in the house, and had to be used as dining-room and +drawing-room, but it was large enough for that and to spare. There was a +big yard and a big garden too, and Riley was in the stable, and Biddy +and Anne in the kitchen, and Kitty in the nursery. This increase of +establishment, which meant so much to the parents, was accepted as a +matter of course by the children.</p> + +<p>Kitty told Riley and Biddy and Anne about what Beth had seen on Gallows +Hill, and they often asked Beth what she saw when she used to sit +looking at nothing. Then Beth would think things, and describe them, +because it seemed to please the servants. They used to be very serious, +and shake their heads and cross themselves, with muttered ejaculations, +but all the time they liked it. This encouraged Beth, and she used to +think and think of things to tell them.</p> + +<p>Beth was exceedingly busy in her own way at this time. Her mind was +being rapidly stored with impressions, and nothing escaped her.</p> + +<p>The four children and Kitty were put all together in one great nursery, +an arrangement of which Kitty, with the fastidious delicacy of a strict +Catholic, did not at all approve.</p> + +<p>"Indeed, m'em," she said, "I'm thinkin' Master Jim's too sharp to be in +the nursery wid his sisters now."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, Kitty," Mrs. Caldwell exclaimed. "How can you be so +evil-minded? Master Jim's only a child—a baby of ten!"</p> + +<p>"Och, thin, me'm, it's an ould-fashioned baby he is," said Kitty; "and +I'm thinkin' it's a bit of a screen or a curtain I'd like for dressin' +behind if he's to be wid us."</p> + +<p>"I have nothing of the kind to give you," Mrs. Caldwell rejoined. And +afterwards she made merry with papa about Kitty's prudishness.</p> + +<p>But Kitty was right as it happened. Jim had been left pretty much to his +own devices during the time he had been alone with his father at +Castletownrock. Captain Caldwell's theory was that boys would look after +themselves, "and the sooner you let 'em the sooner you'd make men of +'em. Blood will tell, sir. Your gentleman's son is a match for any +ragamuffin"—a theory which Jim justified in many a free fight; but, +during the suspension of hostilities he hobnobbed with the ragamuffins, +who took a terrible revenge, for by the time Mrs. Caldwell arrived Jim +was thoroughly corrupted. Kitty took precautions, however. She arranged +the nursery-life so that Master Jim did not associate with his sisters +more than was absolutely necessary. She had him up in the morning, +bathed, and sent off to school before she disturbed the little girls, +and at night she never left the nursery until he was + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> asleep. Out of her +slender purse she bought some print, and fixed up a curtain for his +sisters to dress behind, and all else that she had to do for the +children was done decently and in order. She had almost entire charge of +them, their mother being engrossed with her husband, whose health and +spirits had already begun to suffer from overwork and exposure to the +climate.</p> + +<p>Kitty was teaching her charges dainty ways, mentally as well as +physically. When she had washed them at night, she made them purge their +little souls of all the sins of the day in prayer, and in the morning +she taught them how to fortify themselves with good resolutions. Beth +took naturally to the Catholic training, and solemnly dedicated herself +to the Blessed Virgin; Mildred conformed, but without enthusiasm; the +four-year-old baby Bernadine lisped little <i>Aves</i>; but Jim, in the words +of Captain Keene, "the old buffalo," as their father called him, sneered +at that sort of thing "as only fit for women."</p> + +<p>"Men drink whisky," said Jim, puffing out his chest.</p> + +<p>"True for ye," said Kitty; "but I've been told that them as drinks +whisky here goes dry in the next world."</p> + +<p>"Well, I shall drink whisky and kiss the girls all the same," said Jim. +"And I wouldn't be a Catholic now, not to save me sowl. I owe the +Catholics a grudge. They insulted me."</p> + +<p>"How so?" asked Kitty.</p> + +<p>"At the midnight Mass last Christmas. Father John got up, and ordered +all heretics out of the sacred house of God, and Pat Fagan ses to me, +'Are ye a heretic?' and I ses, 'I am, Pat Fagan.' 'Thin out ye go,' ses +he, and, but for that, I'd 'a' bin a Catholic; so see what you lose by +insulting a gentleman."</p> + +<p>"What's insulting?" Beth asked.</p> + +<p>Jim slapped her face. "That's insulting," he explained.</p> + +<p>Beth struck him back promptly, and a scuffle ensued.</p> + +<p>"Oh, but it's little divils yez are, the lot of ye!" cried Kitty as she +separated them.</p> + +<p>During fits of nervous irritability Captain Caldwell had a habit of +pacing about the house for hours at a time. One evening he happened to +be walking up and down on the landing outside the nursery door, which +was a little way open, and his attention was attracted by Beth's voice. +She was reciting a Catholic hymn softly, but with great feeling, as if +every word of it were a pleasure to her.</p> + +<p>"What's the meaning of this?" he demanded, breaking in on her devotions. +"What papistical abominations have you been teaching the child, Kitty?"</p> + +<p>"Shure, sorr, it's jest a bit of a hymn," said Kitty bravely; but her +heart sank, and the colour left her lips.</p> + +<p>Captain Caldwell was furious. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Caroline!" he called peremptorily, going to the head of the stairs, +"Caroline, come up directly!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell fussed up in hot haste.</p> + +<p>"Do you know," Captain Caldwell demanded, "that this woman is making +idolaters of your children? I heard this child just now praying to the +Virgin Mary! Do you hear?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell's pale face flushed with anger.</p> + +<p>"How dare you do such a thing, you wicked woman?" she exclaimed. "I +shall not keep you another day in the house. Pack up your things at +once, and go the first thing in the morning."</p> + +<p>"O mamma!" Beth cried, "you're not going to send Kitty away? Kitty, +Kitty, you won't go and leave me?"</p> + +<p>"There, you see!" Captain Caldwell exclaimed. "You see the influence +she's got over the child already! That's the Jesuit all over!"</p> + +<p>"An ignorant woman like you, who can hardly read and write, setting up +to teach <i>my</i> children, indeed—how dare you?" Mrs. Caldwell stormed.</p> + +<p>"Well, m'em, I <i>am</i> an ignorant woman that can hardly read and write," +Kitty answered with dignity; "but I could tell you some things ye'll not +find out in all yer books, and may be they'd surprise ye."</p> + +<p>"Kitty, ye'll not go and leave me," Beth repeated passionately.</p> + +<p>"Troth, an' I'd stay for your sake if I could," said Kitty, "fur it's a +bad time I'm afraid ye'll be havin' once I'm gone."</p> + +<p>"Do you hear that?" Captain Caldwell exclaimed. "Now you see what comes +of getting people of this kind into the house. She's going to make out +that the child is ill-treated."</p> + +<p>"One of <i>my</i> children ill-treated!" Mrs. Caldwell cried scornfully. "Who +would believe her?" Then turning to Beth: "If I ever hear you repeat a +word that wicked woman has taught you, I'll beat you as long as I can +stand over you."</p> + +<p>Kitty looked straight into Mrs. Caldwell's face, and smiled +sarcastically, but uttered not a word.</p> + +<p>"How dare you stand there, grinning at me in that impertinent way, you +low woman?" Mrs. Caldwell exclaimed with great exasperation. "I believe +you <i>are</i> a Jesuit, sent here to corrupt my children. But go you shall +to-morrow morning."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'll go, m'em," Kitty answered quietly. She knew the case was +hopeless.</p> + +<p>"There, now," said Mrs. Caldwell, turning to her husband. "Do you see? +That shows you! She doesn't care a bit."</p> + +<p>Beth was clinging to Kitty, but her mother seized her by the arm, and +flung her half across the room, and was about to follow + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> her, but +Captain Caldwell interfered. "That will do," he said significantly. +"It's no use venting your rage on the child. In future choose your +nurses better."</p> + +<p>"Then, in future, give me better advice when I consult you about them," +Mrs. Caldwell retorted, following him out of the room.</p> + +<p>Beth clung to Kitty the whole night long, and had to be torn from her in +the morning, screaming and kicking. She stood in front of her mother, +her eyes and cheeks ablaze:—</p> + +<p>"I shall pray to the Blessed Virgin—I shall pray to the Blessed +Virgin—every <i>hour</i> of my life," she gasped, "and you can't prevent me. +Beat me as long as you can stand over me if you like, but I'll only pray +the harder."</p> + +<p>"For God's sake, m'em," Kitty cried, clasping her hands, "let that child +alone. Shure she's a sweet lamb if you'd give her a chance. But ye put +the divil into her wid yer shakin' an' yer batin', and mischief'll come +of it sooner or later, mark my words."</p> + +<p>When Kitty had gone, Mrs. Caldwell shut Beth up in the nursery with Baby +Bernadine. Beth threw herself on the floor, and sobbed until she had +exhausted her tears; then she gathered herself together, and sat on the +floor with her hands clasped round her legs, her chin on her knees, +looking up dreamily at the sky, through the nursery window. Her pathetic +little face was all drawn and haggard and hopeless. But presently she +began to sing—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">"Ave Maria!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mother of the desolate!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Guide of the unfortunate!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Hear from thy starry home our prayer:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If sorrow will await us,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tyrants vex and hate us,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Teach us thine own most patient part to bear!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Sancta Maria!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When we are sighing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When we are dying,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Give to us thine aid of prayer!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>As she sang, comfort came to her, and the little voice swelled in +volume.</p> + +<p>Baby Bernadine also sat on the floor, opposite to Beth, and gazed at +her, much impressed. When she had finished singing, Beth became aware of +her sister's reverent attention, and put out her tongue at her. +Bernadine laughed. Then Beth crisped up her hands till they looked like +claws, and began to make a variety of hideous faces. Bernadine thought +it was a game and smiled at first, but finally she ceased to recognise +her sister and shrieked + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> + aloud in terror. Beth heard her mother hurrying +up, and got behind the door so that her mother could not see her as she +opened it. Mrs. Caldwell hurried up to the baby—"The darling, then, +what have they been doing to you?"—and Beth made her escape. As she +crossed the hall, some one knocked at the front door. Beth opened it a +crack. Captain Keene was outside. When she saw him, she recollected +something she had heard about his religious opinions, and began to +question him eagerly. His answers were apparently exciting, for +presently she flung the door wide open to let him in, then ran to the +foot of the stairs, and shouted at the top of her voice—</p> + +<p>"Papa, papa, come down! come directly! Here's old Keene, the old +Buffalo, and he says there is no God!"</p> + +<p>Captain Caldwell descended the stairs hurriedly, but, on catching a +glimpse of his countenance, Beth did not wait to receive him.</p> + +<p>She had to pass through the kitchen to get into the yard. It was the +busy time of the day, and Biddy and Anne and Riley, all without shoes or +stockings, were playing football with a bladder.</p> + +<p>Biddy tried to detain Beth.</p> + +<p>"Arrah, bad luck to ye, Biddy," Beth cried, imitating the brogue. "Let +me go, d'ye hear?"</p> + +<p>"Holy Mother, preserve us!" Biddy exclaimed, crossing herself. "Don't ye +ever be afther wishin' anybody bad luck, Miss Beth; shure ye'll bring it +if ye do."</p> + +<p>"Thin don't ye ever be afther stoppin' me when I want to be going, +Biddy," Beth rejoined, stamping her foot, "or I'll <i>blast</i> ye," she +added as she passed out into the sunlight.</p> + +<p>Fowls and ducks and Jim's pet pigeons were the only creatures moving in +the yard. Beth stood among them, watching them for a little, then went +to the cornbin in the stable, and got some oats. There was a shallow tub +of water for the birds to drink; Beth hunkered down beside it, and held +out her hand, full of corn. The pigeons were very tame, and presently a +beautiful blue-rock came up confidently, and began to eat. His eyes were +a deep rich orange colour. Beth caught him, and stroked his glossy +plumage, delighting in the exquisite metallic sheen on his neck and +breast. The colour gave her an almost painful sensation of pleasure, +which changed on a sudden into a fit of blind exasperation. Her grief +for the loss of Kitty had gripped her again with a horrid twinge. She +clenched her teeth in her pain, her fingers closed convulsively round +the pigeon's throat, and she held him out at arm's length, and shook him +viciously till the nictitating membrane dropped over his eyes, his head +sank back, his bill opened, and he hung + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> + from her hand, an inert heap of +ruffled feathers. Then the tension of her nerves relaxed; it was a +relief to have crushed the life out of something. She let the bird drop, +and stood looking at him, as an animal might have looked, with an +impassive face which betrays no shade of emotion. As she did so, +however, the bird showed signs of life; and, suddenly, quickening into +interest, she stooped down, turned him over, and examined him; then +sprinkled him with water, and made him drink. He rapidly revived, and +when he was able to stand, she let him go; and he was soon feeding among +his companions as if nothing had happened.</p> + +<p>Beth watched them for a little with the same animal-like expressionless +gravity of countenance, then moved off unconcernedly.</p> + +<p>She never mentioned the incident to any one, and never forgot it; but +her only feeling about it was that the pigeon had had a narrow escape.</p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beth</span> + was a fine instrument, sensitive to a touch, and, considering the +way she was handled, it would have been a wonder if discordant effects +had not been constantly produced upon her. Hers was a nature with a wide +range. It is probable that every conceivable impulse was latent in her, +every possibility of good or evil. Exactly which would predominate +depended upon the influences of these early years; and almost all the +influences she came under were haphazard. There was no intelligent +direction of her thoughts, no systematic training to form good habits. +Her brothers were sent to school as soon as they were old enough, and so +had the advantage of regular routine and strict discipline from the +first; but a couple of hours a day for lessons was considered enough for +the little girls; and, for the rest of the time, so long as they were on +the premises and not naughty, that is to say, gave no trouble, it was +taken for granted that they were safe, morally and physically. Neither +of their parents seem to have suspected their extreme precocity; and +there is no doubt that Beth suffered seriously in after life from the +mistakes of those in authority over her at this period. People admired +her bright eyes without realising that she could see with them, and not +only that she could see, but that she could not help seeing. But even if +they had realised it, they would merely have scolded her for learning +anything in that way which they preferred that she should not know. They +were not sufficiently intelligent themselves to + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> perceive that it is not +what we know of things, but what we think of them, which makes for good +or evil. Beth was accordingly allowed to run wild, and expected to see +nothing; but all the time her mind was being involuntarily stored with +observations from which, in time to come, for want of instruction, she +would be forced to draw her own—often erroneous—conclusions.</p> + +<p>Kitty's departure was Beth's first great grief, and she suffered +terribly. The prop and stay of her little life had gone, the comfort and +kindness, the order and discipline, which were essential to her nature. +Mrs. Caldwell was a good woman, who would certainly do what she thought +best for her children; but she was exhausted by the unconscionable +production of a too numerous family, a family which she had neither the +means nor the strength to bring up properly. Her husband's health, too, +grew ever more precarious, and she found herself obliged to do all in +her power to help him with his duties, which were arduous. There was a +good deal that she could do in the way of writing official letters and +managing money-matters, tasks for which she was much better fitted than +for the management of children; but the children, meanwhile, had to be +left to the care of others—not that that would have been a bad thing +for them had their mother had sufficient discrimination to enable her to +choose the proper kind of people to be with them. Unfortunately for +everybody, however, Mrs. Caldwell had been brought up on the +old-fashioned principle that absolute ignorance of human nature is the +best qualification for a wife and mother, and she was consequently quite +unprepared for any possibility which had not formed part of her own +simple and limited personal experience. She never suspected, for one +thing, that a servant's conversation could be undesirable if her +appearance and her character from her last mistress were satisfactory; +and, therefore, when Kitty had gone, she put Anne in her place without +misgiving, Anne's principal recommendation being that she was a +nice-looking girl, and had pretty deferential manners.</p> + +<p>Anne came from one of the cabins on the Irish side of the road, where +people, pigs, poultry, with an occasional cow, goat, or donkey herded +together indiscriminately. The windows were about a foot square, and +were not made to open. Sometimes they had glass in them, but were +oftener stopped up with rags. Before the doors were heaps of manure and +pools of stagnant water. There was no regular footway, but a mere beaten +track in front of the cabins, and this, on wet days, was ankle-deep in +mud. The women hung about the doors all day long, knitting the men's +blue stockings, and did little else apparently. Both men and women were +usually in a torpid state, the result, doubtless, of breathing a +poisoned atmosphere, and of insufficient food. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> It took strong +stimulants to rouse them: love, hate, jealousy, whisky, battle, murder, +and sudden death. Their conversation was gross, and they were very +immoral; but it is hardly necessary to say so, for with men, women, +children, and animals all crowded together in such surroundings, and the +morbid craving for excitement to which people who have no comfort or +wholesome interest in life fall a prey, immorality is inevitable. It was +the boast of the place that there were no illegitimate children; it +would have been a better sign if there had been.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell, true to her training, lived opposite to all this vice and +squalor, serenely indifferent to it. Anne, therefore, who knew nothing +about the management of children, and was not in any respect a proper +person to have the charge of them, had it all her own way in the +nursery: and her way was to do nothing that she could help. She used to +call the children in the morning, and then leave them to their own +devices. The moment they were awake, which was pretty soon, for they +were full of life, they began to batter each other with pillows, dance +about the room in their night-dresses, pitch tents with the bed-clothes +on the floor, and make noise enough to bring their mother down upon +them. Then Anne would be summoned and come hurrying up, and help them to +huddle on their clothes somehow. She never washed them, but encouraged +them to perform their own ablutions, which they did with the end of a +towel dipped in a jug. The consequence was they were generally in a very +dirty state. They took their meals with their parents, and papa would +notice the dirt eventually, and storm at mamma in Italian, when words +would ensue in a tone which made the children quake. Then mamma would +storm at Anne, for whom the children felt sorry, and the result would be +a bath, which they bore with fortitude, for fear of getting Anne into +further trouble. They even made good resolutions about washing +themselves, which they kept for a few days; then, however, they began to +shirk again, and had again to be scrubbed. The resolutions of a child +must be shored up by kindly supervision, otherwise it is hardly likely +that they will cement into good habits.</p> + +<p>Beth suffered from a continual sense of discomfort in those days for +want of proper attention. All her clothing fitted badly, and were +fastened on with anything that came to hand in the way of tape and +buttons; her hair was ill brushed, and she was so continually found +fault with that her sense of self-respect was checked in its +development, and she lost all faith in her own power to do anything +right or well. The consequence was the most profound disheartenment, +endured in silence, with the exquisite uncomplaining fortitude of a +little child. It made its mark on her countenance, however, in a settled +expression of + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> + discontent, which, being mistaken for a bad disposition, +repelled people, and made her many enemies. People generally said that +Mildred was a dear, but Beth did not look pleasant; and for many a long +day to come, very few troubled themselves to try and make her look so.</p> + +<p>It cannot be said that Beth's parents neglected their children. On the +contrary, her father thought much of their education, and of their +future; it was the all-importance of the present that did not strike +him, and so with her mother. Neither parent was careless, but their care +stopped short too soon; and it is astonishing the amount of liberty the +children had. They were sent out of doors as soon as they were dressed +in the morning, because sunshine and air are so essential to children. +If they went for a walk, Anne accompanied them; but very often Anne was +wanted, and then the children were left to loiter about the garden or +stable-yard, where, doubtless with the help of reasoning powers much in +advance of her age, Beth had soon heard and seen enough to make her feel +a certain contempt for her father's veracity when he told her that she +had originally been brought to the house in the doctor's black bag.</p> + +<p>After Kitty's departure Beth had many a lonely hour, and the time hung +heavy on her hands. Mildred, her senior by four years, was of a simpler +disposition, and always able to amuse herself, playing with the Baby +Bernadine, or with toys which were no distraction to Beth. Mildred, +besides, was fond of reading; but books to be deciphered remained a +wonder and a mystery to Beth.</p> + +<p>Jim went to the national school, the only one in the place, with all the +other little boys. The master was a young curate who gave Mildred and +Beth their lessons also, when school-hours were over. Beth used to yearn +for lesson-time, just for the sake of being obliged to do something; but +lessons were disappointing, for the curate devoted himself to Mildred, +who was docile and studious, and took no special pains to interest Beth, +and consequently she soon wearied of the dull restraint, and became +troublesome. Sometimes she was boisterous, and then the tutor had to +spend half his time in chasing her to rescue his hat, a book, an +ink-bottle, or some other article which she threatened to destroy; and, +sometimes she was so depressed that he had to give up trying to teach +her, and just do his best to distract her. In her eighth year she was +able to follow the church-service in the prayer-book, and make out the +hymns, but that was all.</p> + +<p>Sunday-school was held in the church, and was attended by all the +unmarried parishioners. Mildred taught some of the tiny mites, and Beth +was put into her class at first; but Beth had no respect for Mildred, +and had consequently to be removed. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> + She was expected to learn the +collect for the day and the verse of a hymn every Sunday, but never by +any chance knew either. No one ever thought of reading the thing over to +her, and fixing her attention on it by some little explanation; and +learning by heart from a book did not come naturally to her. She learned +by ear easily enough, but not by sight. The hymns and prayers which +Kitty had repeated to her, she very soon picked up; but Kitty had true +sympathetic insight to inform her of what the child required, and all +her little lessons were proper to some occasion, and had comfort in +them. What Beth learned now, on the contrary, often filled her with +gloom. Some of the hymns, such as,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"> "When gathering clouds around I view,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And days are dark, and friends are few,"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>made her especially miserable. It was always a dark day to her when she +repeated it, with heavy clouds collecting overhead, and herself, a +solitary little speck on the mountain side wandering alone.</p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> is significant to note that church figures largely in Beth's +recollection of this time, but religion not at all. There was, in fact, +no connection between the two in her mind.</p> + +<p>Both Captain and Mrs. Caldwell protested strongly against what they +called cant; and they seemed to have called everything cant except an +occasional cold reading aloud of the Bible on Sundays, and the bald +observance of the church service. The Bible they read aloud to the +children without expounding it, and the services they attended without +comment. Displays of religious emotion in everyday life they regarded as +symptoms of insanity; and if they heard people discuss religion with +enthusiasm, and profess to love the Lord, they were genuinely shocked. +All that kind of thing they thought "such cant," "and so like those +horrid dissenters;" which made them extra careful that the children +should hear nothing of the sort. This, from their point of view, was +right and wise; in Beth's case especially; for her unsatisfied soul was +of the quality which soon yearns for the fine fulness of faith; her +little heart would have filled to bursting with her first glad +conception of the love divine, and her whole being would have stirred to +speak her emotion, even though speech meant martyrdom. Thanks to the +precautions of her parents, however, she heard nothing to stimulate her +natural tendency to religious fervour after Kitty's departure; and +gradually the image of our Blessed Lady faded from her mind, and was +succeeded by that of the + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> + God of her parents, a death-dealing deity, +delighting in blood, whom she was warned to fear, and from whom she did +accordingly shrink with such holy horror that, when she went to church, +she tried to think of anything but Him. This was how it happened that +church, instead of being the threshold of the next world to her mind, +became the centre of this, where she made many interesting observations +of men and manners; for in spite of her backwardness in the schoolroom, +Beth's intellect advanced with a bound at this period. She had left her +native place an infant, on whose mind some chance impressions had been +made and lingered; she arrived at Castletownrock with the power to +observe for herself, and even to reflect upon what she saw—of course to +a certain extent only; but still the power had come, and was far in +advance of her years. So far, it was circumstances that had impressed +her; she knew one person from another, but that was all. Now, however, +she began to be interested in people for themselves, apart from any +incident in which they figured; and most of her time was spent in a +curiously close, but quite involuntary study of those about her, and of +their relations to each other.</p> + +<p>Church was often a sore penance to the children, it was so long, and +cold, and dull; but they set off on Sunday happy in the consciousness of +their best hats and jackets, nevertheless; and the first part of the +time was not so bad, for then they had Sunday-school, and the three +Misses Keene—Mary, Sophia, and Lenore—and the two Misses Mayne, Honor +and Kathleen, and Mr. and Mrs. Small, the Vicar and his wife, and the +curate, were all there talking and teaching. Beth remembered nothing +about the teaching except that, on one occasion, Mr. Macbean, the +rector, tried to explain the meaning of the trefoil on the ends of the +pews to Mildred and herself; but she could think of nothing but the way +his beard wagged as he spoke, and was disconcerted when he questioned +her. He had promised to be a friend to Beth; but he was a delicate man, +and not able to live much at Castletownrock, where the climate was +rigorous; so that she seldom saw him.</p> + +<p>When Sunday-school was over, the children went up to the gallery; their +pew and the Keenes', roomy boxes, took up the whole front of it. Mrs. +Caldwell always sat up in the gallery with the children, but Captain +Caldwell often sat downstairs in the rectory-pew to be near the fire; +when he sat in the gallery he wore a little black cap to keep off the +draught. He and Mr. O'Halloran the Squire, and Captain Keene, stood and +talked in the aisle sometimes before the service commenced. One Sunday +they kept looking up at the children in the gallery.</p> + +<p>"I'll bet Mildred will be the handsomest woman," Mr. O'Halloran was +saying. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'll back Beth," Captain Keene observed. "If all the men in the place +are not after her soon, I'm no judge of her sex, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't look at me!" said Captain Caldwell complacently. "I can't +pretend to say. But let's hope that they'll go off well, at all events. +They'll have every chance I can give them of making good matches."</p> + +<p>Beth heard her father repeat this conversation to her mother afterwards, +but was too busy wondering what a handsome woman was to understand that +it was her own charms which had been appraised; but Mildred understood, +and was elated.</p> + +<p>Mr. O'Halloran, the squire, had a red beard, which was an offence to +Beth. His wife wore bonnets about which everybody used to make remarks +to Mrs. Caldwell. Beth understood that Mrs. O'Halloran was young and +pretty, and had three charming children, but was not happy because of +Sophia Keene.</p> + +<p>"Just fancy," she heard Mrs. Small, the Vicar's wife, say to her mother +once. "Just fancy, he was in a carriage with them at the races, and +stayed with Sophia the whole time; and poor Mrs. O'Halloran left at home +alone. I call it scandalous. But you know what Sophia is!" Mrs. Small +concluded significantly.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell drew herself up, and looked at Mrs. Small, but said +nothing; yet somehow Beth knew that she too was unhappy because of +Sophia Keene. Beth was not on familiar terms with her mother, and would +not have dared to embrace her spontaneously, or make any other +demonstration of affection; but she was loyally devoted to her all the +same, and would gladly have stabbed Sophia Keene, and have done battle +with the whole of the rest of the family on her mother's behalf had +occasion offered.</p> + +<p>She was curled up among the fuchsias on the window-seat of the +sitting-room one day, unobserved by her parents, who entered the room +together after she had settled herself there, and began to discuss the +Keenes.</p> + +<p>"You did not tell me, Henry, you spent all your time with them before we +came," Mrs. Caldwell said reproachfully.</p> + +<p>"Why should I?" he answered, with a jaunty affectation of ease.</p> + +<p>"It is not why you should," his wife said with studied gentleness, "but +why you should not. It seems so strange, making a mystery of it."</p> + +<p>"I described old Keene to you—the old buffalo!" he replied; "and I'll +describe the girls now if you like. Mary is a gawk, Sophia is as yellow +as a duck's foot, and Lenore is half-witted."</p> + +<p>The Keenes were ignorant, idle, good-tempered young women, and kind to +the children, whom they often took to bathe with + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> them. They were seldom +able to go into the sea itself, for it was a wild, tempestuous coast; +but there were lovely clear pools on the rocky shore, natural stone +baths left full of water when the tide went out, sheltered from the wind +by tall, dark, precipitous cliffs, and warmed by the sun; and there they +used to dabble by the hour together. Anne went with them, and it was a +pretty sight, the four young women in white chemises that clung to them +when wet, and the three lovely children—little white nudities with +bright brown hair—scampering over the rocks, splashing each other in +the pools, or lying about on warm sunny slabs, resting and chattering. +One day Beth found some queer things in a pool, and Sophia told her they +were barnacles.</p> + +<p>"They stick to the bottom of a ship," she said, "and grow heavier and +heavier till at last the ship can make no more way, and comes to a +standstill in a shining sea, where the water is as smooth as a mirror; +you would think it was a mirror, in fact, if it did not heave gently up +and down like your breast when you breathe; and every time it heaves it +flushes some colour, blue, or green, or pink, or purple. And the +barnacles swell and swell at the bottom of the ship, till at last they +burst in two with a loud report; and then the sailors rush to the side +of the ship and look over, and there they see a flock of beautiful big +white geese coming up out of the water; and sometimes they shoot the +geese, but if they do a great storm comes on and engulfs the ship, and +they are all drowned; but sometimes they stand stockstill, amazed, and +then the birds rise up out of the air on their great white wings, up, +up, drifting along, together, till they look like the clouds over there. +Then a gentle breeze springs up, and the ship sails away safely into +port."</p> + +<p>"And where do the geese go?" Beth demanded, with breathless interest.</p> + +<p>"They make for the shore too, and in the dead of winter, on stormy +nights, they fly over the land, uttering strange cries, and if you wake +and hear them, it means somebody is going to die."</p> + +<p>Beth's eyes were staring far out beyond the great green Atlantic rollers +that came bursting in round the sheltering headland, white-crested with +foam, flying up the beach with a crash, and scattering showers of spray +that sparkled in the sunshine. She could see the ships and the +barnacles, and the silent sea, heaving great sighs and flushing with +fine colour in the act; and the geese, and the sailors peering over the +side and shooting at them and sinking immediately in a storm, but also +sailing into a safe haven triumphantly, where the sun shone on white +houses, although, at the same time, it was dark night, and overhead +there were strange cries that made her cower—"Beth!" cried Sophia, +"what's the matter with you, child?" + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p> + +<p>Beth returned with a start, and stared at her—"I know who it will be," +she said.</p> + +<p>"Who what'll be, Miss Beth?" Anne asked in awe.</p> + +<p>"Who'll die," said Beth.</p> + +<p>"You mustn't say, Beth; you'll bring bad luck if you do," Miss Keene +interposed hastily.</p> + +<p>"I'm not going to say," Beth answered dreamily; "but I know."</p> + +<p>"You shouldn't have told the child that story, miss," Anne said. "Shure, +ye know what she is—she sees." Anne nodded her head several times +significantly.</p> + +<p>"I forgot," said Sophia.</p> + +<p>"She'll forget too," said Mary philosophically. "I say, Beth," she went +on, raising herself on her elbow—she was lying prone on a slab of rock +in the sun—"what does your mother think of us?"</p> + +<p>Beth roused herself. "I don't know," she answered earnestly; "she never +says. But I know what papa thinks of you. He says Mary's a gawk, Sophia +is as yellow as a duck's foot, and Lenore is only half-witted."</p> + +<p>The effect of this announcement astonished Beth. The Misses Keene, +instead of being interested, all looked at her as if they did not like +her, and Anne burst out laughing. When they got in, Anne told Mrs. +Caldwell, who flushed suddenly, and covered her mouth with her +handkerchief.</p> + +<p>"Yes, mamma," Mildred exclaimed with importance, "Beth did say so. And +Mary tossed her head, and Sophia sneered."</p> + +<p>"What is sneered?" Beth demanded importunately. "What is sneered?"</p> + +<p>"O Beth! don't bother so," Mildred exclaimed irritably. "It's when you +curl up your lip."</p> + +<p>"Beth, how could you be so naughty?" Mrs. Caldwell said at last from +behind her handkerchief. "Don't you know you should never repeat things +you hear said? A lady never repeats a private conversation."</p> + +<p>"What's a private conversation?" said Beth.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell gave her a broad definition, during which she lowered her +handkerchief, and Beth discovered that she was trying not to smile.</p> + +<p>This was Beth's first lesson in honour, which was her mother's god, and +she felt the influence of it all her life.</p> + +<p>Later in the day, Beth was curled up on the window-seat among the +fuchsias, looking out. Behind the thatched cabins opposite, the sombre +mountains rolled up, dark and distinct, to the sky; but Beth would not +look at them if she could help it, they oppressed her. It was a close +afternoon, and the window + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> + was wide open. A bare-legged woman, in a +short petticoat, stood in an indolent attitude leaning against a +door-post opposite; a young man in low shoes, light blue stockings, buff +knee-breeches, a blue-tailed coat with brass buttons, and a soft +high-crowned felt hat, came strolling up the street with his hands in +his pockets.</p> + +<p>"Hallo, Biddy," he remarked, as he passed the woman, "you're all +swelled."</p> + +<p>"Yes," she answered tranquilly, "I've been drinking buttermilk."</p> + +<p>"Well, let's hope it'll be a boy," he rejoined.</p> + +<p>The woman looked up and down the street complacently.</p> + +<p>Presently Beth saw Honor and Kathleen Mayne come out of the inn. The +Maynes used to pet the children and play the piano to them when they +were at the inn, and had been very good to Jim also when he was there +alone with his father before the family arrived. Their manners were +gentle and caressing, and they did their best to win their way into Mrs. +Caldwell's good graces, but at first she coldly repulsed them, which +hurt Beth very much. The Maynes, however, did not at all understand that +they were being repulsed. A kindly feeling existed among all classes in +those remote Irish villages. The squire's family, the doctor's, +clergyman's, draper's, and innkeeper's visited each other, and shook +hands when they met. There was no feeling of condescension on the one +hand, or of pretension on the other; but Mrs. Caldwell had the strong +class prejudice which makes such stupid snobs of the English. It was not +<i>what</i> people were, but <i>who</i> they were, that was all important to her; +and she would have bowed down cheerfully, as whole neighbourhoods do, +and felt exhilarated by the notice of some stupid county magnate, who +had not heart enough to be loved, head enough to distinguish himself, or +soul enough to get him into heaven. She was a lady, and Mayne was an +innkeeper. His daughters might amuse the children, but as to associating +with Mrs. Caldwell, that was absurd!</p> + +<p>The girls were not to be rebuffed, however. They persevered in their +kindly attentions, making excuses to each other for Mrs. Caldwell's +manner; explaining her coldness by the fact that she was English, and +flattering her, until finally they won their way into her good graces, +and so effectually too, that when they brought a young magpie in a +basket for Beth one day, her mother graciously allowed her to accept it.</p> + +<p>Beth liked the Maynes, but now as they came up the road she slid from +the window-seat. She knew they would stop and talk if she waited, and +she did not want to talk. She was thinking about something, and it +irritated her to be interrupted. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> + So she tore across the hall and +through the kitchen out into the yard, impelled by an imperative desire +to be alone.</p> + +<p>The magpie was the first pet of her own she had ever had, and she loved +it. At night it was chained to a perch stuck in the wall of the +stable-yard. On the other side of that wall was the yard of Murphy the +farrier. The magpie soon became tame enough to be let loose by day, and +Beth always went to release it the first thing in the morning and give +it its breakfast. It came hopping to meet her now, and followed her into +the garden. The garden was entered by an archway under the outbuildings, +which divided it from the stable-yard. It was very long, but narrow for +its length. On the right was a high wall, but on the left was a low +one—at least one half of it was low—and Beth could look over it into +the farrier's garden next door. The other half had been raised by +Captain Caldwell on the understanding that if he raised one half the +farrier would raise the other, but the farrier had proved perfidious. +The wall was built without mortar, of rough, uncut stones. Captain +Caldwell had his half neatly finished off at the top with sods, but +Murphy's piece was still all broken down. The children used to climb up +by it on to the raised half, and dance there at the risk of life and +limb, and jeer at Murphy as he dug his potatoes, calling his attention +to the difference between the Irish and English half of the wall, till +he lost his temper and pelted them. This was the signal for a battle. +The children returned his potatoes with stones by way of interest, and +hit him as often as he hit them. (Needless to say, their parents were +not in the garden at the time.) They had a great contempt for the +farrier because he fought them, and he used to go about the village +complaining of them and their "tratement" of him, "the little divils, +spoilin' the pace of the whole neighbourhood."</p> + +<p>There was a high wall at the end of the garden, and Beth liked to sit on +the top of it. She went there now, picked up her magpie, and climbed up +with difficulty by way of Pat Murphy's broken bit. Immediately below her +was a muddy lane, beyond which the land sloped down to the sea, and as +she sat there, the sound of the waves, that dreamy, soft murmur for +which we have no word, filled the interstices of her consciousness with +something that satisfied.</p> + +<p>She was not left long in peace to enjoy it that afternoon, however, for +the farrier was at work in his garden below, and presently he looked up +and saw the magpie.</p> + +<p>"There ye are agin, Miss Beth, wi' yer baste of a burrd; bad luck to +it!" he exclaimed, crossing himself. "Shure, don't I tell ye ivery day +uf your life it's wan fur sorrow."</p> + +<p>"Bad luck to yerself, Pat Murphy," Beth rejoined promptly. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> "It's a +foine cheek ye have to be spakin' to a gentleman's daughter, an' you not +a man uv yer wurrd."</p> + +<p>"Not a man o' me wurrd! what d'ye mane?" said Murphy, firing.</p> + +<p>"Look at that wall," Beth answered; "didn't ye promise ye'd build it?"</p> + +<p>"An' so I will when yer father gives me the stones he promised me," +Murphy replied. "It's a moighty foine mon uv his wurrd he is."</p> + +<p>"Is it my father yer maning, Pat Murphy?" Beth asked.</p> + +<p>"It is," he said, sticking his spade in the ground emphatically.</p> + +<p>"Ye know yer lying," said Beth. "My father promised you no stones. He's +not a fool."</p> + +<p>"I niver met a knave that was," Pat observed, turning over a huge +spadeful of earth, and then straightening himself to look up at her.</p> + +<p>Beth's instinct was always to fight when she was in a rage; words break +no bones, and she preferred to break bones at such times. It was some +seconds before she saw the full force of Pat's taunt, but the moment she +did, she seized the largest loose stone within reach on the top of the +wall, and shied it at him. It struck him full in the face, and cut his +cheek open.</p> + +<p>"That'll teach ye," said Beth, blazing.</p> + +<p>The man turned on her with a very ugly look.</p> + +<p>"Put yer spade down," she said. "I'm not afraid of you."</p> + +<p>"Miss Beth! Miss Beth!" some one called from the end of the garden.</p> + +<p>Murphy stuck his spade in the ground, and wiped his jaw. "Ye'll pay for +this, ye divil's limb," he muttered, "yew an' yours."</p> + +<p>"Miss Beth! Miss Beth!"</p> + +<p>"I'm coming!" Beth rejoined irritably, and slid from the wall to the +ground regardless of the rough loose stones she scattered in her +descent. "Ye'll foind me ready to pay when ye send in yer bill, Pat," +she called out as she ran down the garden.</p> + +<p>The children were to have tea at the vicarage that day, and Anne had +been sent to fetch her.</p> + +<p>In the drawing-room at the vicarage there was a big bay-window which +looked out across a desolate stretch of bog to a wild headland, against +which the waves beat tempestuously in almost all weathers. The headland +itself was high, but the giant breakers often dashed up far above it, +and fell in showers of spray on the grass at the top. There was a +telescope in the window at the vicarage, and people used to come to see +the sight, and went into raptures over it. Beth, standing out of the +way, unnoticed, would gaze too, fascinated; but it was the attraction of +repulsion. The cruel force of the great waves agitated her, + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> and at the +same time made her unutterably sad. Her heart beat painfully when she +watched them, her breath became laboured, and it was only with an effort +that she could keep back her sobs. It was not fear that oppressed her, +but a horrible sort of excitement, which so gained upon her on that +afternoon in particular that she felt she must shriek aloud, or make her +escape. If she showed any emotion she would be laughed at, if she made +her escape she would probably be whipped; she preferred to be whipped; +so, watching her opportunity, she quietly slipped away.</p> + +<p>At home the window of the sitting-room was still wide open, and as she +ran down the street she noticed some country people peeping in +curiously, and apparently astonished by the luxury they beheld. Beth, +who was picking up Irish rapidly, understood some exclamations she +overheard as she approached, and felt flattered for the furniture.</p> + +<p>She ran up the steps and opened the front door: "Good day to ye all," +she said sociably; "will ye not come in and have a look round? now do!"</p> + +<p>She led the way as she spoke, and the country people followed her, all +agape. In the hall they paused to wonder at the cocoanut matting; but +when they stood on the soft pile carpet, so grateful to their bare feet, +in the sitting-room, and looked round, they lowered their voices +respectfully, and this gave Beth a sudden sensation of superiority. She +began to show them the things: the pictures on the walls, the subjects +of which she explained to them; the egg-shell china, which she held up +to the light that they might see how thin it was; and some Eastern and +Western curios her father had brought home from various voyages. She +told them of tropical heat and Canadian cold, and began to be elated +herself when she found all that she had ever heard on the subject +flowing fluently from her lips.</p> + +<p>The front door had been left open, and the passers-by looked in to see +what was going on, and then entered uninvited. Neighbours, too, came +over from the Irish side of the road, so that the room gradually filled, +and as her audience increased, Beth grew excited and talked away +eloquently.</p> + +<p>"Lord," one man exclaimed with a sigh, on looking round the room, "it's +aisy to see why the likes of these looks down on the likes of us."</p> + +<p>"Eh, dear, yes!" a woman with a petticoat over her head solemnly +responded.</p> + +<p>"The durrty heretics," a slouching fellow, with a flat white face, +muttered under his breath. "But if they benefit here, they'll burn +hereafter, holy Jasus be praised."</p> + +<p>"Will they?" said Beth, turning on him. "Will they burrn + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> hereafter, +Bap-faced Flanagan? No, they won't! They'll hunt ye out of heaven as +they hunted ye out o' Maclone.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"> "Oh, the Orange militia walked into Maclone,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And hunted the Catholics out of the town.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ri' turen nuren nuren naddio,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Right tur nuren nee."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>She sang it out at the top of her shrill little voice, executing a +war-dance of defiance to the tune, and concluding with an elaborate +curtsey.</p> + +<p>As she recovered herself, she became aware of her father standing in the +doorway. His lips were white, and there was a queer look in his face.</p> + +<p>"Oh! So this is <i>your</i> party, is it, Miss Beth?" he said. "You ask your +friends in, and then you insult them, I see."</p> + +<p>Beth was still effervescing. She put her hands behind her back and +answered boldly—</p> + +<p>"'Deed, thin, he insulted me, papa. It was Bap-faced Flanagan. He said +we were durrty heretics, and—and—I'll not stand that! It's a free +country!"</p> + +<p>Captain Caldwell looked round, and the people melted from the room under +his eye. Then Anne appeared from somewhere.</p> + +<p>"Anne, do you teach the children party-songs?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"Shure, they don't need taching, yer honour," said Anne, disconcerted. +"Miss Beth knows 'em all, and she shouts 'em at the top of her voice +down the street till the men shake their fists at her."</p> + +<p>"Why do you do that, Beth?" her father demanded.</p> + +<p>"I like to feel," Beth began, gasping out each word with a mighty effort +to express herself—"I like to feel—that I can <i>make</i> them shake their +fists."</p> + +<p>Her father looked at her again very queerly.</p> + +<p>"Will I take her to the nursery, sir?" Anne asked.</p> + +<p>Beth turned on her impatiently, and said something in Irish which made +Anne grin. Beth did not understand her father in this mood, and she +wanted to see more of him.</p> + +<p>"What's that she's saying to you, Anne?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh—sure, she's just blessin' me, yer honour," Anne answered unabashed.</p> + +<p>"I believe you!" Captain Caldwell said dryly, as he stretched himself on +the sofa. "Go and fetch a hair-brush."</p> + +<p>While Anne was out of the room he turned to Beth. "I'll give you a +penny," he said, "if you'll tell me what you said to Anne." + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'll tell you for nothing," Beth answered. "I said, 'Yer soul to the +devil for an interfering hussy.'"</p> + +<p>Captain Caldwell burst out laughing, and laughed till Anne returned with +the brush. "Now, brush my hair," he said to Beth; and Beth went and +stood beside the sofa, and brushed, and brushed, now with one hand, and +now with the other, till she ached all over with the effort. Her father +suffered from atrocious headaches, and this was the one thing that +relieved him.</p> + +<p>"There, that's punishment enough for to-day," he said at last.</p> + +<p>Beth retired to the foot of the couch, and leant there, looking at him +solemnly, with the hair-brush still in her hand. "That's no punishment," +she observed.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"I mean I like it," she said. "I'd brush till I dropped if it did you +any good."</p> + +<p>Captain Caldwell looked up at her, and it was as if he had seen the +child for the first time.</p> + +<p>"Beth," he said, after a while, "would you like to come out with me on +the car to-morrow?"</p> + +<p>"'Deed, then, I would, papa," Beth answered eagerly.</p> + +<p>Then there was a pause, during which Beth rubbed her back against the +end of the couch thoughtfully, and looked at the wall opposite as if she +could see through it. Her father watched her for a little time with a +frown upon his forehead from the pain in his head.</p> + +<p>"What are you thinking of, Beth?" he said at last.</p> + +<p>"I've got to be whipped to-night," she answered drearily; "and I wish I +hadn't. I do get so tired of being whipped and shaken."</p> + +<p>Her little face looked pinched and pathetic as she spoke, and for the +first time her father had a suspicion of what punishment was to this +child—a thing as inevitable as disease, a continually recurring +torture, but quite without effect upon her conduct—and his heart +contracted with a qualm of pity.</p> + +<p>"What are you going to be whipped for now?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"We went to tea at the vicarage, and I ran away home."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"Because of the great green waves. They rush up the +rocks—wish—st—st!" (she took a step forward, and threw up her little +arms in illustration)—"then fall, and roll back, and gather, and come +rushing on again; and I feel every time—every time—that they are +coming right at me!"—she clutched her throat as if she were +suffocating; "and if I had stayed I should have shrieked, and then I +should have been whipped. So I came away." + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But you expect to be whipped for coming away?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. But you see I don't have the waves as well. And mamma won't say I +was afraid."</p> + +<p>"Were you afraid, Beth?" her father asked.</p> + +<p>"No!" Beth retorted, stamping her foot indignantly. "If the waves did +come at me, I could stand it. It's the coming—coming—coming—I can't +bear. It makes me ache here." She clutched at her throat and chest +again.</p> + +<p>Captain Caldwell closed his eyes. He felt that he was beginning to make +this child's acquaintance, and wished he had tried to cultivate it +sooner.</p> + +<p>"You shall not be whipped to-night, Beth," he said presently, looking at +her with a kindly smile.</p> + +<p>Instantly an answering smile gleamed on the child's face, transfiguring +her; and, by the light of it, her father realised how seldom he had seen +her smile.</p> + +<p>Unfortunately for Beth, however, while her countenance was still +irradiated, her mother swooped down upon her. Mrs. Caldwell had come +hurrying home in a rage in search of Beth; and now, mistaking that smile +for a sign of defiance, she seized upon her, and had beaten her severely +before it was possible to interfere. Beth, dazed by this sudden +onslaught, staggered when she let her go, and stretched out her little +hands as if groping for some support.</p> + +<p>"It wasn't your fault!—it wasn't your fault!" she gasped, her first +instinct being to exonerate her father.</p> + +<p>Captain Caldwell had started up and caught his wife by the arm.</p> + +<p>"That's enough," he said harshly. "You are going altogether the wrong +way to work with the child. Let this be the last time, do you +understand? Beth, go to the nursery, and ask Anne to get you some tea." +A sharp pain shot through his head. He had jumped up too quickly, and +now fell back on the sofa with a groan.</p> + +<p>"Oh, let me brush it again," Beth cried, in an agony of sympathy.</p> + +<p>Her father opened his haggard eyes and smiled.</p> + +<p>"Go to the nursery, like a good child," he said, "and get some tea."</p> + +<p>Beth went without another word. But all that evening her mind was with +her parents in the sitting-room, wondering—wondering what they were +saying to each other. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">Next</span> + day Beth jumped out of bed early, and washed herself all over, in +an excess of grateful zeal, because she was to be taken out on the car. +As soon as she had had her breakfast, she ran into the yard to feed her +magpie. Its perch was in a comfortable corner sheltered by the great +turf-stack which had been built up against the wall that divided the +Caldwells' yard from that of Pat Murphy, the farrier. Beth, in wild +spirits, ran round the stack, calling "Mag, Mag!" as she went. But Mag, +alas! was never more to respond to her call. He was hanging by the leg +from his perch, head downward, wings outstretched, and glossy feathers +ruffled; and below him, on the ground, some stones were scattered which +told the tale of cruelty and petty spite.</p> + +<p>Beth stood for a moment transfixed; but in that moment the whole thing +became clear to her—the way in which the deed was done, the man that +did it, and his motive. She glanced up to the top of the high wall, and +then, breathing thick through her clenched teeth, in her rage she +climbed up the turf-stack with the agility of a cat, and looked over +into the farrier's yard.</p> + +<p>"Come out of that, Pat Murphy, ye black-hearted, murthering villain," +she shrieked. "I see ye skulking there behind the stable-door. Come out, +I tell ye, and bad luck to you for killing my bird."</p> + +<p>"Is it me, miss?" Pat Murphy exclaimed, appearing with an injured and +innocent look on his face. "Me kill yer burrd! Shure, thin, ye never +thought such a thing uv me!"</p> + +<p>"Didn't I, thin! and I think it still," Beth cried. "Say, 'May I never +see heaven if I kilt it'—or I'll curse ye."</p> + +<p>"Ah, thin, it isn't such bad language ye'd hev me be using, and you a +young lady, Miss Beth," said Pat in a wheedling tone.</p> + +<p>"'Deed, thin, it is, Pat Murphy; but I know ye daresn't say it," said +Beth. "Oh, bad luck to ye! bad luck to ye every day ye see a wooden +milestone, and twice every day ye don't. And if ye killed my bird, may +the devil attend ye, to rob ye of what ye like best wherever ye are."</p> + +<p>She slid down the stack when she had spoken, and found her father +standing at the bottom, looking at the dead bird with a heavy frown on +his dark face. He must have heard Beth's altercation with Murphy, but he +made no remark until Mrs. Caldwell came out, when he said something in +Italian, to which she responded, "The cowardly brute!"</p> + +<p>Beth took her bird, and buried it deep in her little garden, by which +time the car was ready. She had not shed a tear, nor did + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> she ever +mention the incident afterwards; which was characteristic, for she was +always shy of showing any feeling but anger.</p> + +<p>Captain Caldwell had a wild horse called Artless, which few men would +have cared to ride, and fewer still have driven. People wondered that he +took his children out on the car behind such an animal, and perhaps he +would not have done so if he had had his own way, but Mrs. Caldwell +insisted on it.</p> + +<p>"They've no base blood in them," she said; "and I'll not have them +allowed to acquire any affectation of timidity."</p> + +<p>Artless was particularly fresh that morning. He was a red chestnut, with +a white star on his forehead, and one white stocking.</p> + +<p>When Beth returned to the stable-yard she found him fidgeting between +the shafts, with his ears laid back, and the whites of his wicked eyes +showing, and Riley struggling with his head in a hard endeavour to keep +him quiet enough for the family to mount the car. Captain and Mrs. +Caldwell and Mildred were already in their seats, and Beth scrambled up +to hers unconcernedly, although Artless was springing about in a lively +manner at the moment. Beth sat next her father, who drove from the side +of the car, and then they were ready to be off as soon as Artless would +go; but Artless objected to leave the yard, and Riley had to lead him +round and round, running at his head, and coaxing him, while Captain +Caldwell gathered up the reins and held the whip in suspense, watching +his opportunity each time they passed the gate to give Artless a start +that would make him bound through it. Round and round they went, +however, several times, with Artless rearing, backing, and plunging; but +at last the whip came down at the right moment, just the slightest +flick, Riley let go his head, and out he dashed in his indignation, the +battle ending in a wild gallop up the street, with the car swinging +behind him, and the whole of the Irish side of the road out cheering and +encouraging, to the children's great delight. But their ebullition of +glee was a little too much for their father's nerves.</p> + +<p>"These children of yours are perfect little devils, Caroline!" he +exclaimed irritably. Mrs. Caldwell smiled as at a compliment. She had +been brought up on horseback herself, and insisted on teaching the +children to regard danger as a diversion—not that that was difficult, +for they were naturally daring. She would have punished them promptly on +the slightest suspicion of timidity. "Only base-born people were +cowardly," she scornfully maintained. "No lady ever shows a sign of +fear."</p> + +<p>Once, when they were crossing Achen sands, a wide waste, innocent of any +obstacle, Artless came down without warning, and Mildred uttered an +exclamation. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Who was it made that ridiculous noise?" Mrs. Caldwell asked, looking +hard at Beth.</p> + +<p>Beth could not clear herself without accusing her sister, so she said +nothing, but sat, consumed with fiery indignation; and for long +afterwards she would wake up at night, and clench her little fists, and +burn again, remembering how her mother had supposed she was afraid.</p> + +<p>Artless went at breakneck speed that day, shied at the most unexpected +moments, bolted right round, and stopped short occasionally; but Beth +sat tight mechanically, following her own fancies. Captain Caldwell was +going to inspect one of the outlying coastguard stations; and they went +by the glen road, memorable to Beth because it was there she first felt +the charm of running water, and found her first wild violets and tuft of +primroses. The pale purple of the violets and the scent of primroses, +warm with the sun, were among the happy associations of that time. But +her delight was in the mountain-streams, with their mimic waterfalls and +fairy wells. She loved to loiter by them, to watch them bubbling and +sparkling over the rocks, to dabble her hands and feet in them, or to +lie her length upon the turf beside them, in keen consciousness of the +incessant, delicate, delicious murmur of the water, a sound which +conveyed to her much more than can be expressed in articulate speech. At +times too, when she was tired of loitering, she would look up and see +the mountain-top just above her, and begin to climb; but always when she +came to the spot, there was the mountain-top just as far above her as +before; so she used to think that the mountain really reached the sky.</p> + +<p>When they returned, late that afternoon, Riley met them with a very +serious face, and told Captain Caldwell mysteriously that Pat Murphy's +horse was ill.</p> + +<p>"What a d——d unfortunate coincidence," Captain Caldwell muttered to +his wife; and Beth noticed that her mother's face, which had looked +fresh and bright from the drive, settled suddenly into its habitual +anxious, careworn expression.</p> + +<p>Beth loitered about the yard till her parents had gone in; then she +climbed the turf-stack, and looked over. The sick horse was tied to the +stable-door, and stood, hanging his head with a very woebegone +expression, and groaning monotonously. Murphy was trying to persuade him +to take something hot out of a bucket, while Bap-faced Flanagan and +another man, known as Tony-kill-the-cow, looked on and gave good advice.</p> + +<p>Beth's fury revived when she saw Murphy, and she laughed aloud +derisively. All three men started and looked up, then crossed +themselves.</p> + +<p>"Didn't I tell ye, Pat!" Beth exclaimed. "Ye may save + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> yourself the +trouble of doctoring him. He's as dead as my magpie."</p> + +<p>Murphy looked much depressed. "Shure, Miss Beth, the poor baste done ye +no harm," he pleaded.</p> + +<p>"No," said Beth, "nor my bird hadn't done you any harm, nor the cow Tony +cut the tail off hadn't done him any harm."</p> + +<p>"I didn't kill yer burrd," Murphy asserted doggedly.</p> + +<p>"We'll see," said Beth. "When the horse dies we'll know who killed the +bird. Then one of you skunks can try and kill me. But I'd advise you to +use a silver bullet; and if you miss, you'll be damned.—Blast ye, +Riley, will ye let me alone!"</p> + +<p>Riley, hearing what was going on, and having called to her vainly to +hold her tongue, had climbed the stack himself, and now laid hold of +her. Beth struck him in the face promptly, whereupon he shook her, and +loosening her hold of the wall, began to carry her down—a perilous +proceeding, for the stack was steep, and Beth, enraged at the indignity, +doubled herself up and scratched and bit and kicked the whole way to the +ground.</p> + +<p>"Ye little divil," said Riley, setting her on her feet, "ye'll get us +all into trouble wid that blasted tongue o' yours."</p> + +<p>"Who's afraid?" said Beth, shaking her tousled head, and standing up to +Riley with her little fists clenched.</p> + +<p>"If the divil didn't put ye out when he gave up housekeeping, I dunno +where you come from," Riley muttered as he turned away and stumped off +stolidly.</p> + +<p>During the night the horse died, and Beth found when she went out next +day that the carcass had been dragged down Murphy's garden and put in +the lane outside. She climbed the wall, and discovered the farrier +skinning the horse, and was much disgusted to see him using his hands +without gloves on in such an operation. Her anger of the day before was +all over now, and she was ready to be on the usual terms of scornful +intimacy with Murphy.</p> + +<p>"Ye'll never be able to touch anything to eat again with those hands," +she said.</p> + +<p>"Won't I, thin!" he answered sulkily, and without looking up. He was as +inconsequent as a child that resents an injury, but can be diverted from +the recollection of it by anything interesting, only to return to its +grievance, however, the moment the interest fails. "Won't I, thin! Just +you try me wid a bit o' bread-an'-butter this instant, an' see what I'll +do wid it."</p> + +<p>Beth, always anxious to experiment, tore indoors to get some +bread-and-butter, and never did she forget the horror with which she +watched the dirty man eat it, with unwashed hands, sitting on the +horse's carcass. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></p> + +<p>That carcass was a source of interest to her for many a long day to +come. She used to climb on the wall to see how it was getting on, till +the crows had picked the bones clean, and the weather had bleached them +white; and she would wonder how a creature once so full of life could +become a silent, senseless thing, not feeling, not caring, not knowing, +no more to itself than a stone—strange mystery; and some day <i>she</i> +would be like that, just white bones. She held her breath and suspended +all sensation and thought, time after time, to see what it felt like; +but always immediately there began a great rushing sound in her ears as +of a terrific storm, and that, she concluded, was death coming. When he +arrived then all would be blotted out.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>The country was in a very disturbed state, and it was impossible to keep +all hints of danger from the children's sharp ears. Beth knew a great +deal of what was going on and what might be expected, but then a few +chance phrases were already enough for her to construct a whole story +upon, and with wonderful accuracy generally. Her fine faculty of +observation developed apace at this time, and nothing she noticed now +was ever forgotten. She would curl up in the window-seat among the +fuchsias, and watch the people in the street by the hour together, +especially on Sundays and market-days, when a great many came in from +the mountains, women in close white caps with goffered frills, short +petticoats, and long blue cloaks; and men in tail-coats and +knee-breeches, with shillalahs under their arms, which they used very +dexterously. They talked Irish at the top of their voices, and +gesticulated a great deal, and were childishly quarrelsome. One +market-day, when Beth was looking out of the sitting-room window, her +mother came and looked out too, and they saw half-a-dozen countrymen set +upon a young Castletownrock man. In a moment their shillalahs were +whirling about his head, and he was driven round the corner of the +house. Presently he came staggering back across the road, blubbering +like a child, with his head broken, and the blood streaming down over +his face, which was white and distorted with pain. They had knocked him +down, and kicked him when he was on the ground.</p> + +<p>"Oh! the cowards! the cowards!" Mrs. Caldwell exclaimed. Beth felt sick, +but it was not so much what she saw as what she heard that affected +her—the man's crying, and the graphic description of the nature and +depth of the wound which another man, who had been present while the +doctor dressed it, stopping at the window, kindly insisted on giving +them, Mrs. Caldwell being obliged to listen courteously for fear of +making herself unpopular. The man's manner impressed Beth—there + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> was +such a solemn joy in it, as of one who had just witnessed something +refreshing.</p> + +<p>There were two priests in the place, Father Madden and Father John. +Captain Caldwell said Father Madden was a gentleman. He shook hands with +everybody, even with the curate and Mr. Macbean; but Father John would +not speak to a protestant, and used to scowl at the children when he met +them, and then Mildred would seize Bernadine's hand and drag her past +him quickly, because she hated to be scowled at; but Beth always stopped +and made a face at him. He used to carry a long whip, and crack it at +the people, and on Sunday mornings, if they did not go to mass, he would +patrol the streets in a fury, rating the idlers at the top of his voice, +and driving them on before him. Beth used to glance stealthily at the +chapel as she went to church; it had the attraction of forbidden fruit +for her, and of Father John's exciting antics—nothing ever happened in +church. Chapel she associated with the papists, and not at all with +Kitty, whose tender teaching occupied a separate compartment of her +consciousness altogether. There she kept the "Blessed Mother" and the +"Dear Lord" for her comfort, although she seldom visited them now. Terms +of endearment meant a great deal to Beth, because no one used them +habitually in her family; in fact, she could not remember ever being +called dear in her life by either father or mother.</p> + +<p>Since the day when she had run away from the great green waves, however, +her father had taken an interest in her. He often asked her to brush his +hair, and laughed very much sometimes at things she said. He used to lie +on the couch reading to himself while she brushed.</p> + +<p>"Read some to me, papa," she said one day. He smiled and read a little, +not in the least expecting her to understand it, but she soon showed him +that she did, and entreated him to go on; so he gradually fell into the +habit of reading aloud to her, particularly the "Ingoldsby Legends." She +liked to hear them again and again, and would clamour for her +favourites. On one occasion when he had stopped, and she had been +sitting some time at the foot of the couch, with the brush in her hand, +she suddenly burst out with a long passage from "The Execution"—the +passage that begins:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"> "God! 'tis a fearsome thing to see<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That pale wan man's mute agony."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Captain Caldwell raised his eyebrows as she proceeded, and looked at his +wife.</p> + +<p>"I thought a friend of ours was considered stupid," he said.</p> + +<p>"People can do very well when they like," Mrs. Caldwell + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> answered +tartly; "but they're too lazy to try. When did you learn that, Beth?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't learn it," Beth answered.</p> + +<p>"Then how do you know it?"</p> + +<p>"It just came to me," Beth said.</p> + +<p>"Then I wish your lessons would <i>just come</i> to you."</p> + +<p>"I wish they would," said Beth sincerely.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell snapped out something about idleness and obstinacy, and +left the room. The day was darkening down, and presently Captain +Caldwell got up, lit a lamp at the sideboard, and set it on the +dining-table. When he had done so, he took Beth, and set her on the +table too. Beth stood up on it, laughing, and put her arm round his +neck.</p> + +<p>"Look at us, papa!" she exclaimed, pointing at the window opposite. The +blinds were up, and it was dark enough outside for them to see +themselves reflected in the glass.</p> + +<p>"I think we make a pretty picture, Beth," her father said, putting his +arm round her.</p> + +<p>He had scarcely spoken, when there came a terrific report and a crash; +something whizzed close to Beth's head; and a shower of glass fell on +the floor. In a moment Beth had wriggled out of her father's arm, slid +from the table, and scrambled up on to the window-seat, scattering the +flower-pots, and slapping at her father's hand in her excitement, when +he tried to stop her.</p> + +<p>"It's Bap-faced Flanagan—or Tony-kill-the-cow," she cried. "I can +see—O papa! why did you pull me back? Now I shall never know!"</p> + +<p>The servants had rushed in from the kitchen, and Mrs. Caldwell came +flying downstairs.</p> + +<p>"What is it, Henry?" she cried.</p> + +<p>"The d——d scoundrels shot at me with the child in my arms," he +answered, looking in his indignation singularly like Beth herself in a +stormy mood. As he spoke he turned to the hall door, and walked out into +the street bareheaded.</p> + +<p>"For the love of the Lord, sir," Riley remonstrated, keeping well out of +the way himself.</p> + +<p>But Captain Caldwell walked off down the middle of the road alone +deliberately to the police station, his wife standing meanwhile on the +doorstep, with the light behind her, coolly awaiting his return.</p> + +<p>"Pull down the blind in the sitting-room, Riley, and keep Miss Beth +there," was all she said.</p> + +<p>Presently Captain Caldwell returned with a police-officer and two men. +They immediately began to search the room. The glass of a picture had +been shattered at the far end. Riley pulled the picture to one side, and +discovered something imbedded in + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> + the wall behind, which he picked out +with his pocket-knife and brought to the light. It looked like a disc +all bent out of shape. He turned it every way, examining it, then tried +it with his teeth.</p> + +<p>"I thought so," he said significantly. "It wouldn't be yer honour they'd +be afther wid a silver bullet. I heard her tell 'em herself to try one."</p> + +<p>"And I said if they missed they'd be damned," Beth exclaimed +triumphantly.</p> + +<p>"Beth!" cried her mother, seizing her by the arm to shake her, "how dare +you use such a word?"</p> + +<p>"I heard it in church," said Beth, in an injured tone.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Beth," said her father, rescuing her from her mother's +clutches, and setting her on the table—he had been talking aside with +the police officer—"I want you to promise something on your word of +honour as a lady, just to please me."</p> + +<p>Beth's countenance dropped: "O papa!" she exclaimed, "it's something I +don't want to promise."</p> + +<p>"Well, never mind that, Beth," he answered. "Just promise this one thing +to please me. If you don't, the people will try and kill you."</p> + +<p>"I don't mind that," said Beth.</p> + +<p>"But I do—and your mother does."</p> + +<p>Beth gave her mother a look of such utter astonishment, that the poor +lady turned crimson.</p> + +<p>"And perhaps they'll kill me too," Captain Caldwell resumed. "You see +they nearly did to-night."</p> + +<p>This was a veritable inspiration. Beth turned pale, and gasped: "I +promise!"</p> + +<p>"Not so fast," her father said. "Never promise anything till you hear +what it is. But now, promise you won't say bad luck to any of the people +again."</p> + +<p>"I promise," Beth repeated; "but"—she slid from the table, and nodded +emphatically—"but when I shake my fist and stamp my foot at them it'll +mean the same thing."</p> + +<p>It was found next morning that Bap-faced Flanagan and Tony-kill-the-cow +had disappeared from the township; but Murphy remained; and Beth was not +allowed to go out alone again for a long time, not even into the garden. +All she knew about it herself, however, was, that she had always either +a policeman or a coastguardsman to talk to, which added very much to her +pleasure in life, and also to Anne's. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">One</span> + of the interests of Captain Caldwell's life was his garden. He spent +long hours in cultivating it, and that summer his vegetables, fruits, +and flowers had been the wonder of the neighbourhood. But now autumn had +come, vegetables were dug, fruits gathered, flowers bedraggled; and +there was little to be done but clear the beds, plant them with bulbs, +and prepare them for the spring.</p> + +<p>Now that Captain Caldwell had made Beth's acquaintance, he liked to have +her with him to help him when he was at work in the garden, and there +was nothing that she loved so much.</p> + +<p>One day they were at work together on a large flower-bed. Her father was +trimming some rose-bushes, and she was kneeling beside him on a little +mat, weeding.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad I'm not a flower," she suddenly exclaimed, after a long +silence.</p> + +<p>"Why, Beth, flowers are very beautiful."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but they last so short a time. I'd rather be less beautiful, and +live longer. What's your favourite flower, papa?"</p> + +<p>She had stopped weeding for the moment, but still sat on the mat, +looking up at him. Captain Caldwell clipped a little more, then stopped +too, and looked down at her.</p> + +<p>"I don't get a separate pleasure from any particular flower, Beth; they +all delight me," he answered.</p> + +<p>Beth pondered upon this for a little, then she asked, "Do you know which +I like best? Hot primroses." Captain Caldwell raised his eyebrows +interrogatively. "When you pick them in the sun, and put them against +your cheek, they're all warm, you know," Beth explained; "and then they +<i>are</i> good! And fuchsias are good too, but it isn't the same good. You +know that one in the sitting-room window, white outside and +salmon-coloured inside, and such a nice shape—the flowers—and the way +they hang down; you have to lift them to look into them. When I look at +them long, they make me feel—oh—feel, you know—feel that I could take +the whole plant in my arms and hug it. But fuchsias don't scent sweet +like hot primroses."</p> + +<p>"And therefore they are not so good?" her father suggested, greatly +interested in the child's attempt to express herself. "They say that the +scent is the soul of the flower."</p> + +<p>"The scent is the soul of the flower," Beth repeated several times; then +heaved a deep sigh of satisfaction. "I want to sing it," she said. "I +always want to sing things like that." + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What other 'things like that' do you know, Beth?"</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"> "The song of the sea in the shell,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">The swish of the grass in the breeze,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The sound of a far-away bell,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">The whispering leaves on the trees,"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Beth burst out instantly.</p> + +<p>"Who taught you that, Beth?" her father asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no one taught me, papa," she answered. "It just came to me—like +this, you know. I used to listen to the sea in that shell in the +sitting-room, and I tried and tried to find a name for the sound, and +all at once <i>song</i> came into my head—<i>The song of the sea in the +shell</i>. Then I was lying out here on the grass when it was long, before +you cut it to make hay, and you came out and said, 'There's a stiff +breeze blowing.' And it blew hard and then stopped, and then it came +again; and every time it came the grass went—swish-h-h! <i>The swish of +the grass in the breeze.</i> Then you know that bell that rings a long way +off, you can only just hear it out here—<i>The sound of a far-away bell</i>. +Then the leaves—it <i>was</i> a long time before anything came that I could +sing about them. I used to try and think it, but you can't sing a thing +you think. It's when a thing comes, you can sing it. I was always +listening to the leaves, and I always felt they were doing something; +then all at once it came one day. Of course they were whispering—<i>The +whispering leaves on the trees</i>. That was how they came, papa. At first +I used to sing them by themselves; but now I sing them all together. You +can sing them three different ways—the way I did first, you know, then +you can put <i>breeze</i> first—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The swish of the grass in the breeze,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The whispering leaves on the trees,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The song of the sea in the shell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sound of a far-away bell.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Or you can sing—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The sound of a far-away bell,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The whispering leaves on the trees,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The swish of the grass in the breeze,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The song of the sea in the shell.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Which way do you think the nicest?" She had rattled all this off as fast +as she could speak, looking and pointing towards the various things she +mentioned as she proceeded, the sea, the grass, the trees, the distance; +now she looked up to her father for an answer. He was looking at her so +queerly, she was filled with alarm. "Am I naughty, papa?" she +exclaimed. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh no," he said, with a smile that reassured her. "I was just thinking. +I like to hear how 'things come' to you. You must always tell me—when +new things come. By the way, who told you that fuchsia was +salmon-coloured?"</p> + +<p>"I <i>saw</i> it was," she said, surprised that he needed to ask such a +question. "I saw it one day when we had boiled salmon for dinner. Isn't +it nice when you see that one thing's like another? I have a pebble, and +it's just the shape of a pear—now you know what shape it is, don't +you?" He nodded. "But if I said it's thick at one end and thin at +another, you wouldn't know what shape it is a bit, would you?"</p> + +<p>"No, I should not," he answered, beginning to prune again, thoughtfully. +"Beth," he said presently, "I should like to see you grow up."</p> + +<p>"Shan't I grow up?" said Beth in dismay.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes—at least I should hope so. But—it's not likely that <i>I</i> shall +be—looking on. But, Beth, I want you to remember this. When you grow +up, I think you will want to do something that only a few other people +can do well—paint a picture, write a book, act in a theatre, make +music—it doesn't matter what; if it comes to you, if you feel you can +do it, just do it. You'll not do it well all at once; but try and try +until you <i>can</i> do it well. And don't ask anybody if they think you can +do it; they'll be sure to say no; and then you'll be +disheartened—What's disheartened? It's the miserable feeling you would +get if I said you would never be able to learn to play the piano. You'd +try to do it all the same, perhaps, but you'd do it doubtfully instead +of with confidence."</p> + +<p>"What's confidence?" said Beth.</p> + +<p>"You are listening to me now with confidence. It is as if you said, I +believe you."</p> + +<p>"But I can't say 'I believe you' to arithmetic, if I want to do it."</p> + +<p>"No, but you can say, I believe I can do it—I believe in myself."</p> + +<p>"Is that confidence in myself?" Beth asked, light breaking in upon her.</p> + +<p>"That's it. You're getting quite a vocabulary, Beth. A vocabulary is all +the words you know," he added hastily, anticipating the inevitable +question.</p> + +<p>Beth went on with her weeding for a little.</p> + +<p>"And there is another thing, Beth, I want to tell you," her father +recommenced. "Never do anything unless you are quite sure it is the +right thing to do. It doesn't matter how much you may want to do it, you +mustn't, if you are not quite, quite sure it is right." + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Not even if I am just half sure?"</p> + +<p>"No, certainly not. You must be quite, quite sure."</p> + +<p>Beth picked some more weeds, then looked up at him again: "But, papa, I +shall never want to do anything I don't think right when I'm grown up, +shall I?"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid you will. Everybody does."</p> + +<p>"Did <i>you</i> want to, papa?" Beth asked in amazement.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he answered.</p> + +<p>"And did you do it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," he repeated.</p> + +<p>"And what happened?"</p> + +<p>"Much misery."</p> + +<p>"Were you miserable?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, very. But that wasn't the worst of it."</p> + +<p>"What was the worst of it?"</p> + +<p>"The worst of it was that I made other people miserable."</p> + +<p>"Ah, that's bad," said Beth, with perfect comprehension. "That makes you +feel so horrid inside yourself."</p> + +<p>"Well, Beth, just you remember that. You can't do wrong without making +somebody else miserable. Be loyal, be loyal to yourself, loyal to the +best that is in you; that means, be as good as your friends think you, +and better if you can. Tell the truth, live openly, and stick to your +friends; that's the whole of the best code of morality in the world. Now +we must go in."</p> + +<p>As they walked down the garden together, Beth slipped her dirty little +hand into his, and looked up at him: "Papa," she said solemnly, "when +you want to be with somebody always, more than with anybody else; and +want to look at him, and want to talk to him, and you find you can tell +him lots of things you couldn't tell anybody else if you tried, you +know; what does it mean?"</p> + +<p>"It means you love him very much."</p> + +<p>"Then I love you, papa, very much," she said, nestling her head against +his arm. "And it does make me feel so nice inside. But it makes me +miserable too," she added, sighing.</p> + +<p>"How so?"</p> + +<p>"When you have a headache, you know. I used only to be afraid you'd be +angry if I made a noise. But now I'm always thinking how much it hurts +you. I wake up often and often at night, and you are in my mind, and I +try and see you say, 'It's better,' or 'It's quite well.'"</p> + +<p>"And what then, Beth?" her father asked, in a queer voice.</p> + +<p>"Then I don't cry any more, you know."</p> + +<p>She looked up at her father as she spoke, and saw that his eyes were +full of tears. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">That</span> was almost the last of those happy autumn days. Winter fell upon +the country suddenly with nipping cold. The mountains, always sombre, +lowered in great tumbled masses from under the heavy clouds that seldom +rose from their summits. Terrible gales kept the sea in torment, and the +voice of its rage and pain filled Castletownrock without ceasing. +Torrents of rain tore up the roads, and rendered them almost impassable. +There was stolid endurance and suffering written on every face out of +doors, while within the people cowered over their peat fires, a prey to +hunger, cold, and depression. Draughts made merry through the large +rooms and passages in Captain Caldwell's house; the wind howled in the +chimneys, rattled at the windows, and whistled at the keyholes, +especially at night, when Beth would hide her head under the bed-clothes +to keep out the racket, or, in another mood, lie and listen to it, and +imagine herself out in the storm, till her nerves were strung to a state +of ecstatic tension, and her mind fairly revelled in the sense of +danger. When her father was at home in the evening, she would sit still +beside the fire in the sitting-room, listening in breathless awe, and +excitement wholly pleasurable, to the gale raging without; but if +Captain Caldwell had not returned, as frequently happened now that the +days were short, and the roads so bad, well knowing the risks he ran, +she would see the car upset a hundred times, and hear the rattle of +musketry in every blast that shook the house, and so share silently, but +to the full, the terrible anxiety which kept her mother pacing up and +down, up and down, unable to settle to anything until he entered and +sank into a seat, often so exhausted that it was hard to rouse him to +change his dripping clothes. His duties, always honourably performed +whatever the risk to himself, were far too severe for him, and he was +rapidly becoming a wreck;—nervous, liverish, a martyr to headache, and +a slave to stimulants, although not a drunkard—he only took enough to +whip him up to his work. His digestion too had become seriously +impaired, and he had no natural appetite for anything. He was fond of +his children, and proud of them, but had hitherto been too irritable to +contribute anything to their happiness; on the contrary, his name was a +terror to them, and "Hush, papa has come in!" was enough at any time to +damp their wildest spirits. Now, however, he suffered more from +depression than from irritability, and would cower over the fire on +stormy days in a state of despondency which was reflected + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span>in every +face, taking no notice of any of them. The children would watch him +furtively in close silent sympathy, sitting still and whispering for +fear of disturbing him; and if perchance they saw him smile, and a look +of relief came into their mother's anxious face, their own spirits went +up on the instant. But everything was against him. The damp came up from +the flags in the sitting-room through the cocoanut matting and the thick +carpet that covered it, which it defaced in great patches. Close to the +fire the wires of the piano rusted, and had to be rubbed and rubbed +every day, or half the notes went dumb. The paper, a rare luxury in +those parts, began to drop from the walls. Great turf-fires were +constantly kept up, but the damp stole a march on them when they +smouldered in the night, and made mildew-marks upon everything.</p> + +<p>Good food and cooking would have helped Captain Caldwell, but the food +was indifferent, and there were no cooks to be had in the country. Biddy +had never seen such a thing as a kitchen-range before she took the +situation, and when she first had to use the oven, she put the turf on +the bottom shelf in order to heat the top one. Mrs. Caldwell made what +were superhuman efforts to a woman of her training and constitution, to +keep the servants up to the mark, and grew grey in the endeavour; but +Mrs. Caldwell in the kitchen was like a racehorse at the plough; and +even if she had been a born housewife, she could have done little with +servants who would do nothing themselves except under her eyes, and +stole everything they could lay their hands on, including the salt out +of the salt-cellars between meals, if it were not locked up.</p> + +<p>Towards the end of January, Captain Caldwell was ill in bed; he had wet +cloths on his head, and seemed as if he could hardly speak. Beth hung +about his door all day, watching for opportunities to steal in. Mamma +always sent her away if she could, but if papa heard her, he would +whisper, "Let the child come in," and then mamma would let her in, but +would still look cross. And Beth sat at one side of the bed, and mamma +sat on the other, and no one spoke except papa sometimes; only you could +seldom understand what he said. And mamma cried, but Beth did not. She +ached too much inside for that. You can't cry when you ache so much.</p> + +<p>Beth day after day sat with her hands folded on her lap, and her feet +dangling from a chair that was much too high for her, watching her +father with an intensity of silent anxiety that was terrible to witness +in so young a child. Her mother might have beaten her to death, but she +could never have dislodged her from the room once she had her father's +leave to stay there. Mrs. Caldwell rarely beat her now, however; she +generally ignored her; so Beth came and went as she chose. She would +climb up + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> + on to the bed when there was nobody in the room, and kiss the +curls of papa's thick glossy black hair so softly that he never knew, +except once, when he caught her, and smiled. His dark face grew grey in +bed, and his blue eyes sunken and haggard; but he battled it out that +time, and slowly began to recover.</p> + +<p>Beth was sitting in her usual place beside her father's bed one day when +the doctor came and discovered her. He was standing on the other side of +the bed, and exclaimed, "Why, it's all eyes!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, it's a queer pixie," her father said. "But it's going to do +something some day, or <i>I'm</i> much mistaken."</p> + +<p>"It's going to make a nuisance of itself if you put such nonsense into +its head, or I'm much mistaken," Mrs. Caldwell observed.</p> + +<p>"I shall <i>not</i> make a nuisance of myself," Beth indignantly protested.</p> + +<p>"I shall never be able to make you understand, Caroline," Captain +Caldwell exclaimed. "Little pitchers are generally bad enough, but when +there is large intelligence added to the long ears, they're the devil."</p> + +<p>Before the doctor left he said to Mrs. Caldwell, "We must keep our +patient amused, you know."</p> + +<p>"O doctor!" Beth exclaimed, clasping her hands in her earnestness, "do +you think if Sophie Keene came?"</p> + +<p>The doctor burst into a shout of laughter, in which Captain Caldwell +also joined. "Just stay here yourself, Beth," he said, when he had +recovered himself. "For amusement, neither Sophie Keene nor any one else +I ever knew could hold a candle to you."</p> + +<p>"What's 'hold a candle to you'?" Beth instantly demanded.</p> + +<p>And then there was more laughter, in which even Mrs. Caldwell joined; +and afterwards, when the doctor had gone, she actually patted Beth on +the back, and stroked her hair, which was the first caress Beth ever +remembered to have received from her mother.</p> + +<p>"Now, mamma," she exclaimed, with great feeling, in the fulness of her +surprise and delight, "now I shall forget that you ever beat me."</p> + +<p>Her mother coloured painfully.</p> + +<p>Her father muttered something about a noble nature.</p> + +<p>"And that was the child you never wanted at all!" slipped, with a ring +of triumph, from Mrs. Caldwell unawares—an interesting example of the +complexity of human feelings.</p> + +<p>Captain Caldwell soon went back to his duty—all too soon for his +strength. The dreadful weather continued. Day after day he returned +soaking from some distant station to the damp and discomfort of the +house, and the ill-cooked, unappetising food, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> which he could hardly +swallow. And to all this was added great anxiety about the future of his +family. His boys were doing well at school by this time; but he was not +satisfied with the way in which the little girls were being brought up. +There was no order in their lives, no special time for anything; and he +knew the importance of early discipline. He tried to discuss the subject +with his wife, but she met his suggestions irritably.</p> + +<p>"There's time enough for that," she said. "<i>I</i> had no regular lessons +till I was in my teens."</p> + +<p>"But what answered with you may be disastrous to these children," he +ventured. "They are all unlike you in disposition, more especially +Beth."</p> + +<p>"You spoil that child," Mrs. Caldwell protested. "And at any rate I can +do no more. I am run off my feet."</p> + +<p>This was true, and Captain Caldwell let the subject drop. His patience +was exemplary in those days. He suffered severely both mentally and +physically, but never complained. The shadow was upon him, and he knew +it, but he met his fate with fortitude. Whatever his faults, they were +expiated in the estimation of all who saw him suffer now.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell never realised how ill he was, but still she was uneasy, +and it was with intense relief that she welcomed a case of soups and +other nourishing delicacies calculated to tempt the appetite, which +arrived for him one day from one of his sisters in England.</p> + +<p>"This is just what you want, Henry," she said, with a brighter look in +her face than he had seen there for months. "I shall soon have you +yourself again now."</p> + +<p>Captain Caldwell's spirits also went up.</p> + +<p>In the evening they were all together in the sitting-room. Mrs. Caldwell +was playing little songs for Mildred to sing, Baby Bernadine was playing +with her bricks upon the floor, and Beth as usual was hanging about her +father. He had shaken off his despondency, and was quite lively for the +moment, walking up and down the room, and making merry remarks to his +wife in Italian, at which she laughed a good deal.</p> + +<p>"Come, Beth, fetch 'Ingoldsby.' We shall just come to my favourite, and +finish the book before you go to bed," he said.</p> + +<p>Beth brought the book, and then climbed up on his knee, and settled +there happily, with her head on his shoulder.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"As I laye a-thynkynge, the golden sun was sinking,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"> O merrie sang that Bird as it glitter'd on her breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">With a thousand gorgeous dyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">While soaring to the skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">'Mid the stars she seem'd to rise,<br /></span> +<span class="i7">As to her nest;<br /></span> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"> As I laye a-thynkynge, her meaning was exprest:—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">'Follow, follow me away,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">It boots not to delay,'—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">'Twas so she seemed to saye,<br /></span> +<span class="i7">'HERE IS REST!'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>After he had read those last lines, there was a moment's silence, and +then Beth burst into a tempest of tears. "O papa—papa! No, no, no!" she +sobbed. "I couldn't bear it."</p> + +<p>"What <i>is</i> the matter with the child?" Mrs. Caldwell exclaimed, starting +up.</p> + +<p>"'The vision and the faculty divine,' I think," her father answered. +"Leave her to me."</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>Beth was awake when Anne entered the nursery next morning to call the +children.</p> + +<p>"Get up, and be good," Anne said. "Your pa's ill."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell came into the nursery immediately afterwards, very much +agitated. She kissed Beth, and from that moment the child was calm; but +there settled upon her pathetic little face a terrible look of age and +anxiety.</p> + +<p>When she was dressed, she ran right into her father's room before any +one could stop her. He was moaning—"O my head, my head! O my head, my +head!" over and over again.</p> + +<p>"You mustn't stay here, little woman—not to-day," the doctor said. "It +will make your father worse if you do."</p> + +<p>Beth stole from the room, and returned to the nursery. There, however, +she could still hear her father moaning, and she could not bear it, so +she took her prayer-book, by way of life-saving apparatus, and went down +to the kitchen to "see" what the servants were thinking—her own +significant expression. They were all strangely subdued. "Sit down, Miss +Beth," Biddy said kindly. "Sit down in the window there wid your book if +you want company. It's a sore heart you'll be having, or I'm much +mistaken."</p> + +<p>Beth sat in the window the whole morning, reading prayers to herself, +while she watched and waited. The doctor sent Riley down from the +sick-room several times to fetch things, and each time Beth consulted +his countenance anxiously for news, but asked no questions. Biddy tried +to persuade her to eat, but the child could not touch anything.</p> + +<p>Late in the afternoon Riley came down in a hurry.</p> + +<p>"Is the master better, Pat?" Biddy demanded.</p> + +<p>"'Deed, thin, he isn't," Riley replied; "and the doctor's sending me off +on the horse as hard as I can go for Dr. Jamieson."</p> + +<p>"Och, thin, if the doctor's sending you for Dr. Jamieson it's all up. +He's niver sent for till the last. The Lord himself won't save him +now." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p> + +<p>Beth shuffled over the leaves of her prayer-book hurriedly. She had been +crying piteously to God in her heart for hours to save her father, and +He had not heard; now she remembered that the servants said if you read +the Lord's Prayer backwards it would raise the devil. Beth tried; but +the invocation was unavailing. Before Riley could saddle the horse, a +message was sent down to stop him; and then Anne came for Beth, and took +her up to her father's room. The dreadful sounds had ceased at last, and +there was a strange silence in the house. Mrs. Caldwell was sitting +beside her husband's bed, rocking herself a little as if in pain, but +shedding no tears. Mildred was standing with her arm round her mother's +neck crying bitterly, while Baby Bernadine gazed at her father +wonderingly.</p> + +<p>He was lying on his side with his arms folded. His eyes were shut, and +there was a lovely look of relief upon his face.</p> + +<p>"I sent for you children," their mother said, "to see your father just +as he died. You must never forget him."</p> + +<p>Ellis and Rickards, two of papa's men, were in the room, and Mrs. Ellis +too, and the doctor, and Riley, and Biddy, and Anne; and there was a +foot-bath, with steaming hot water in it, on the floor; some mustard on +the table; and the fire burnt brightly. These details impressed +themselves on Beth's mind involuntarily, as indeed did everything else +connected with that time. It seemed to her afterwards as if she had seen +everything and felt nothing for the moment—nothing but breathless +excitement and interest. Her grief was entirely suspended.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ellis and the doctor led mamma down to the sitting-room; they +didn't seem to think that she could walk. And then Mrs. Ellis made her +some tea, and stood there, and coaxed her to drink it, just as if mamma +had been a child. Mrs. Caldwell sat on the big couch with her back to +the window, and Mildred sat beside her, with her arm round her, crying +all the time. Bernadine cried too, but it was because she was hungry, +and no one thought of giving her anything to eat. Beth fetched her some +bread-and-butter, and then she was good. People began to arrive—Mr. +Macbean, Captain and Mrs. Keene, the Smalls, the curate—Father Madden +even. He had heard the news out in the country, and came hurrying back +to pay his respects, and offer his condolences to Mrs. Caldwell, and see +if there was anything he could do. He hoped it was not taking a liberty +to come; but indeed he came in the fulness of his heart, and because he +couldn't help it, for he had known him well, and a better man and truer +gentleman never breathed. The widow held out her hand to the priest, and +looked up at him gratefully.</p> + +<p>Beth opened the door for Mrs. Small, who exclaimed at once: + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> "Oh, my +dear child, how is your poor mother? Does she cry at all? I do hope she +has been crying."</p> + +<p>"No," Beth answered, "nobody cries but Mildred."</p> + +<p>When Mrs. Small went in, Mrs. Caldwell spoke to her quite collectedly. +"He was taken ill at eight o'clock this morning with a dreadful pain in +his head," she told her. "He had suffered fearfully from his head of +late. I sent for the doctor at once. But nothing relieved him. From ten +o'clock he got worse and worse, and at four he was gone. He always +wished to die suddenly, and be spared a lingering illness. He has been +depressed of late, but this morning, early, he woke up quite brightly; +and last night he was wonderfully better. After the children had gone to +bed, he read aloud to me as he used to do in the old days; and he looked +so much more like his old self again that I thought a happier time was +coming. And so it was. But not for me."</p> + +<p>"Poor lady!" Mrs. Small whispered. "It has been a fearful shock."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell showed strength of character in the midst of the +overwhelming calamity which had fallen upon her with such awful +suddenness. She had a nice sense of honour, and her love was great; and +by the help of these she was enabled to carry out every wish of her dead +husband with regard to himself. He had had a fastidious horror of being +handled after death by the kind of old women who are accustomed to lay +out bodies, and therefore Mrs. Caldwell begged Ellis and Rickards to +perform that last duty for him themselves.</p> + +<p>When the children went to bed, she took them to kiss their father. The +stillness of the chamber struck a chill through Beth, but she thought it +beautiful. The men had draped it in white, and decorated it with +evergreens, there being no flowers in season. Papa was smiling, and +looked serenely happy.</p> + +<p>"Years ago he was like that," mamma said softly, as if she were speaking +to herself; "but latterly there has been a look of pain. I am glad to +see him so once more. You are at peace now—dearest." She stroked his +dark hair, and as she did so her hand showed white against it.</p> + +<p>The children kissed him; and then Mrs. Ellis persuaded mamma to come and +help her to put them to bed; and mamma taught them to say: "<i>Yea, though +I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: +for Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me.</i>" She told +them to remember they had learnt it on the day their father died, and +asked them to say it always in memory of him. Beth believed for a long +time that it was he who would walk with her through the valley of the +shadow, and in after years she felt sure that her mother had thought so +too. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mrs. Ellis stayed all night, and slept with the children.</p> + +<p>When their mother left them, Beth could not sleep. She had noticed how +cold her father was when she kissed him, and was distressed to think he +had only a sheet to cover him. The longer she thought of it, the more +wretched she became, especially when she contrasted the warmth and +softness of her own little bed with the hardness and coldness of the one +they had made up for him; and at last she could bear it no longer. She +sat up in bed and listened. She could hear by their breathing that the +other children were asleep, but she was not sure about Mrs. Ellis. Very +stealthily, therefore, she slipped out of bed, and pulled off the +clothes. She could only just clasp them in both arms, but the nursery +door was ajar, and she managed to open it with her foot. It creaked +noisily, and Beth waited, listening in suspense; but nobody moved; so +she slipped out into the passage. It was quite dark there, and the floor +felt very cold to her bare feet. She stumbled down the passage, tripping +over the bed-clothes as she went, and dreading to be caught and stopped, +but not afraid of anything else. The door was open when she reached it, +and there was a dim light in the room. This was unexpected, and she +paused to peep in before she entered. Two candles were burning on a +table at the foot of the bed. Their flames flickered in a draught, and +cast shadows on her father's face, so that it seemed as if he moved and +breathed again. Her mother was kneeling beside the bed, with her face +hidden on her husband's breast, her left arm round him, while with the +fingers of her right hand she incessantly toyed with his hair. "Only +last night," she was saying, "only last night; oh, I cannot believe +it!—perhaps I ought to be glad—there will be no more pain for you—oh, +my darling, I would have given my life to save you a moment's pain—and +I could do so little—so little. Oh, if only you could come back to tell +me that your life had ever been the better for me, that I had not spoilt +it utterly, that I brought you some happiness." She raised her head and +looked into the tranquil face. The flickering shadows flitted across it, +but did not deceive her. She must ache on always for an answer +now—always, for ever. With a convulsive sob, she crawled up closer on +her knees, and laid her cheek beside his, but no tears came. She had not +wept at all that day.</p> + +<p>Beth stood for a long time in the doorway, listening to her mother's +rambling talk, and watching her white fingers straying through her +father's hair. She hugged the bed-clothes close, but she had forgotten +why she came. She felt no cold; she held no thought; her whole being was +absorbed in the scene before her.</p> + +<p>Presently, however, something that her mother said aroused her—"Cold," +she was murmuring, "so cold. How you dreaded + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> it too! You were always +delicate and suffering, yet you did more than the strongest men, for our +sakes. You never spared yourself. What you undertook to do, you did like +an honourable gentleman, neglecting nothing. You have died doing your +duty, as you wished to die. You have been dying all these months—and I +never suspected—I did not know—dying—killed by exposure—and +anxiety—and bad food. You came home hungry, and you could not eat what +I had to give you—cold, and I could not warm you—oh, the cruel, bitter +cold!"</p> + +<p>Beth slipped up to her noiselessly.</p> + +<p>"Mamma!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell started.</p> + +<p>Beth held out the blankets—"to cover him."</p> + +<p>Her mother caught her in her arms. "O my poor little child! my poor +little child!" she cried; and then at last she burst into tears.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>During the days that preceded her father's funeral, Beth did not miss +him. It was as if he were somewhere else, that was all—away in the +mountains—and was himself thinking, as Beth did continually, about the +still, cold, smiling figure that reposed, serenely indifferent to them +all, in his room upstairs. One day, what he had said about being laid +out by old women came into her head, and she wondered what he would have +looked like when they laid him out that he should have objected so +strongly to their seeing him. She was near the death-chamber at the +moment, and went in. No one was there, and she stood a long time looking +at the figure on the bed. It was entirely covered, but she had only to +lift the sheet and learn the secret. She turned it back from the placid +face, then stopped, and whispered half in awe, half in interrogation, +"Papa!" As she pronounced the word, the inhuman impulse passed and was +forgotten.</p> + +<p>Hours later, Mrs. Ellis found her sitting beside him as she had so often +done during his illness, on that same chair which was too high for her, +her feet dangling, and her little hands folded in her lap, gazing at him +with a face as placidly set, save for the eyes, as his own.</p> + +<p>The next day they had all to bid him the long farewell. Mrs. Caldwell +stood looking down upon him, not wiping the great tears that welled up +painfully into her eyes, lest in the act she should blot out the dear +image and so lose sight of it for one last precious moment. She was an +undemonstrative woman, but the lingering way in which she touched him, +his hair, his face, his waxen hands, was all the more impressive for +that in its restrained tenderness.</p> + +<p>Suddenly she uncovered his feet. They were white as marble, + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> and +beautifully formed. "Ah, I feared so!" she exclaimed. "They put them +into hot water that day. I knew it was too hot, and I said so; he seemed +insensible, but I felt him wince—and see!" The scar of a scald proved +that she had been right. This last act, due to the fear that he had been +made to suffer an unnecessary pang, struck Beth in after years as +singularly pathetic.</p> + +<p>It was not until after the funeral that Beth herself realised that she +had lost her father. When they returned, the house had been set in +order, and made to look as usual—yet something was missing. The blinds +were up, the sun was streaming in, the "Ingoldsby Legends" lay on the +sofa in the sitting-room. When Beth saw the book her eyes dilated with a +pang. It lay there, just as he had left it; but he was in the ground. He +would never come back again.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the child threw herself on the floor in an agony of grief, +sobbing, moaning, writhing, tearing her hair, and calling aloud, "Papa! +papa! Come back! come back! come back!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell in her fright would have tried her old remedy of shaking +and beating; but Mrs. Ellis snatched the child up and carried her off to +the nursery, where she kept her for the rest of that terrible day, +rocking her on her knee most of the time, and talking to her about her +father in heaven, living the life eternal, yet watching over her still, +and waiting for her, until she fired Beth's imagination, and the +terrible grave was forgotten.</p> + +<p>That night, however, and for many nights to come, the child started up +out of her sleep, and wept, and wailed, and tore her hair, and had again +to be nursed and comforted.</p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">Just</span> + like the mountains, all jumbled up together when you view them from +a distance, had Beth's impulses and emotions already begun to be in +their extraordinary complexity at this period; and even more like the +mountains when you are close to them, for then, losing sight of the +whole, you become aware of the details, and are surprised at their +wonderful diversity, at the heights and hollows, the barren wastes, +fertile valleys, gentle slopes, and giddy precipices—heights and +hollows of hope and despair, barren wastes of mis-spent time, fertile +valleys of intellectual accomplishment, gentle slopes of aspiration +undefined, and giddy precipices of passionate impulse and desperate +revolt. Genius is sympathetic insight made perfect; and it must have +this diversity if it is ever to be effectual—must touch on every human +experience, + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> + must suffer, and must also enjoy; great, therefore, are its +compensations. It feels the sorrows of all mankind, and is elevated by +them; whereas the pain of an individual bereavement is rather acute than +prolonged. Genius is spared the continuous gnawing ache of the grief +which stultifies; instead of an ever-present wearing sense of loss that +would dim its power, it retains only those hallowed memories, those +vivid recollections, which foster the joy of a great yearning +tenderness; and all its pains are transmuted into something subtle, +mysterious, invisible, neither to be named nor ignored—a fertilising +essence which is the source of its own heaven, and may also contain the +salvation of earth. So genius has no lasting griefs.</p> + +<p>Beth utterly rejected all thought of her father in his grave, and even +of her father in heaven. When her first wild grief subsided, he returned +to her, to be with her, as those we love are with us always in their +absence, enshrined in our happy consciousness. She never mentioned him +in these days, but his presence, warm in her heart, kept her little +being aglow; and it was only when people spoke to her, and distracted +her attention from the thought of him, that she felt disconsolate. While +she could walk with him in dreams, she cared for no other companionship.</p> + +<p>It was a dreadful position for poor Mrs. Caldwell, left a widow—not +without friends, certainly, for the people were kind—but with none of +her own kith and kin, in that wild district, embarrassed for want of +money, and broken in health. But, as is usual in times of great +calamity, many things happened, showing both the best and the worst side +of human nature.</p> + +<p>After Captain Caldwell's death, old Captain Keene, who had once held the +appointment himself, and was indebted to Captain Caldwell for much +kindly hospitality, went about the countryside telling people that +Captain Caldwell had died of drink. Some officious person immediately +brought the story to Mrs. Caldwell.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell had the house on her hands, but the officer who was sent +to succeed Captain Caldwell would be obliged to take it, as there was no +other. He arrived one day with a very fastidious wife, who did not like +the house at all. There was no accommodation in it, no china cupboard, +nothing fit for a lady. She must have it all altered. From the way she +spoke, it seemed to Beth that she blamed her mother for everything that +was wrong.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell said very little. She was suffering from a great swelling +at the back of her neck—an anthrax, the doctor called it—and was not +fit to be about at all, but her indomitable fortitude kept her up. Mrs. +Ellis had stayed to nurse her, and help with the children. She and Mrs. +Caldwell looked at each other and smiled when the new officer's wife had +gone. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span></p> + +<p>"She's a very fine lady indeed, Mrs. Ellis," Mrs. Caldwell said, sighing +wearily.</p> + +<p>"Yes, ma'am," Mrs. Ellis answered; "but people who have been used to +things all their lives think less about them."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ellis was very kind to the children, and when wet days kept Beth +indoors, she would stay with her, and study her with interest. She was +thin, precise, low-voiced, quiet in her movements, passionless, loyal; +and every time she took a mouthful at table, she wiped her mouth.</p> + +<p>The doctor came every day to dress the abscess on Mrs. Caldwell's neck, +and every day he said that if it had not burst of itself he should have +been obliged to make a deep incision in it in the form of a cross. +Mildred and Beth were always present on these occasions, fighting to be +allowed to hold the basin. Mrs. Ellis wanted to turn them out, but Mrs. +Caldwell said: "Let them stay, poor little bodies; they like to be with +me."</p> + +<p>The poor lady, ill as she was, had neither peace nor quiet. The yard was +full of great stones now, and stone-masons hammered at them from early +morning till late at night, chipping them into shape for the alterations +and additions to be made to the house; the loft was full of carpenters +preparing boards for flooring; the yard-gates were always open, and +people came and went as they liked, so that there was no more privacy +for the family. Mildred stayed indoors with her mother a good deal; but +Beth, followed by Bernadine, who had become her shadow, was continually +in the yard among the men, listening, questioning, and observing. To +Beth, at this time, the grown-up people of her race were creatures with +a natural history other than her own, which she studied with great +intelligence and interest, and sometimes also with disgust; for, +although she was so much more with the common people, as she had been +taught to call them, than with her own class, she did not adopt their +standards, and shrank always with innate refinement from everything +gross. No one thought of shooting her now. She had not only lived down +her unpopularity, but, by dint of her natural fearlessness, her cheerful +audacity of speech, and quick comprehension, had won back the fickle +hearts of the people, who weighed her words again superstitiously, and +made much of her. The workmen, with the indolent, inconsequent Irish +temperament which makes it irksome to follow up a task continuously, and +easier to do anything than the work in hand, would break off to amuse +her at any time. One young carpenter—lean, sallow, and sulky—who was +working for her mother, interested her greatly. He was making +packing-cases, and the first one was all wrong, and had to be pulled to +pieces; and the way he swore as he demolished + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> it, ripping out oaths as +he ripped up the boards, impressed Beth as singularly silly.</p> + +<p>There was another carpenter at work in the loft, a little wizened old +man. He always brought a peculiar kind of yellow bread, and shared it +with the children, who loved it, and took as much as they wanted without +scruple, so that the poor old man must have had short-commons himself +sometimes. He could draw all kinds of things—fish with scales, ships in +full sail, horses, coaches, people—and Beth often made him get out his +big broad pencil and do designs for her on the new white boards. When he +was within earshot, the people in the yard were particular about what +they said before the children; if they forgot themselves he called them +to order, and silenced them instantly, which surprised Beth, because he +was the smallest man there. There was one man, however, whom the old +carpenter could never suppress. Beth did not know how this man got his +living. He came from the village to gossip, wore a tweed suit, not like +a workman's, nor was it the national Irish dress. He had a red nose and +a wooden leg, and, after she knew him, for a long time she always +expected a man with a wooden leg to have a red nose, but, somehow, she +never expected a man with a red nose to have a wooden leg. This man was +always cheery, and very voluble. He used the worst language possible in +the pleasantest way, and his impervious good-humour was proof against +all remonstrance. What he said was either blasphemous or obscene as a +rule, but in effect it was not at all like the same thing from the other +men, because, with them, such language was the expression of anger and +evil moods, while with him it was the vehicle of thought from a mind +habitually serene.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell was being hurried out of the house with indecent haste, +considering the state of her health and all the arrangements she had to +make; but she bore up bravely. She was touched one day by an offer of +help from Beth, and begged her to take charge of Bernadine and be a +little mother to her. Beth promised to do her best. Accordingly, when +Bernadine was naughty, Beth beat her, in dutiful imitation. Bernadine, +however, invariably struck back. When other interests palled, Beth would +encourage Bernadine to risk her neck by persuading her to jump down +after her from high places. She was nearly as good a jumper as Beth, the +great difference being that Beth always lit on her feet, while Bernadine +was apt to come down on her head; but it was this peculiarity that made +her attempts so interesting.</p> + +<p>The yard very soon became a sociable centre for the whole idle place. +Any one who chose came into it in a friendly way, and lounged about, +gossiping, and inspecting the works in + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> + progress. Women brought their +babies, and sat about on the stones suckling them and talking to the +men—a proceeding which filled Beth with disgust, she thought it so +peculiarly indelicate.</p> + +<p>Beth stood with her mother at the sitting-room window one day to see the +last of poor Artless, as he was led away on a halter by a strange man, +his glossy chestnut coat showing dappled in the sunshine, but his wild +spirit much subdued for want of corn. The first time they had seen him +was on the day of their arrival, when Captain Caldwell had ridden out on +him to meet them. Mrs. Caldwell burst into tears at the recollection.</p> + +<p>"He was the first evidence of promotion and prosperity," she said. "But +the promotion has been to a higher sphere, and I much fear that the +prosperity, like Artless himself, has departed for ever."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell had decided to return to her own people in England, and a +few days later they started. She took the children to see their father's +grave the last thing before they left Castletownrock, and stood beside +it for a long time in silence, her gloveless hand resting caressingly on +the cold tombstone, her eyes full of tears, and a pained expression in +her face. It was the real moment of separation for her. She had to tear +herself away from her beloved dead, to leave him lonely, and to go out +alone herself, unprotected, unloved, uncomforted, into the cold world +with her helpless children. Poverty was in store for her; that she knew; +and doubtless she foresaw many another trouble, and, could she have +chosen, would gladly have taken her place there beside the one who, with +all his faults, had been her best friend on earth.</p> + +<p>Her cold, formal religion was no comfort to her in moments like these. +She was a pagan at heart, and where she had laid her dead, there, to her +mind, he would rest for ever, far from her. The lonely grave on the wild +west coast was the shrine towards which her poor heart would yearn +thereafter at all times, always. She had erected a handsome tombstone on +the hallowed spot, and was going away in her shabby clothes, the more at +ease for the self-denial she had had to exercise in order to beautify +it. The radical difference between herself and Beth, which was to keep +them apart for ever, was never more apparent than at this moment of +farewell. The other children cried, but Beth remained an unmoved +spectator of her mother's emotion. She hated the delay in that painful +place; and what was the use of it when her father would be with them +just the same when they got into the yellow coach which was waiting at +the gate to take them away? Beth's beloved was a spirit, near at hand +always; her mother's was a corpse in a coffin, buried in the ground. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p> + +<p>A little way out of Castletownrock the coach was stopped, and Honor and +Kathleen Mayne from the inn came up to the window.</p> + +<p>"We walked out to be the last to say good-bye to you, Mrs. Caldwell, and +to wish you good luck," Kathleen said. "We were among the first to +welcome you when you came. And we've brought a piece of music for Miss +Mildred, if she will accept it for a keepsake."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell shook hands with them, but she could not speak; and the +coach drove on. The days when she had thought the two Miss Maynes +presumptuous for young women in their position seemed a long way off to +her as she sat there, sobbing, but grateful for this last act of kindly +feeling.</p> + +<p>Beth had been eager to be off in the yellow coach, but they had not long +started before she began to suffer. The moving panorama of desolate +landscape, rocky coast, rough sea, moor and mountain, with the motion of +the coach, and the smell of stale tobacco and beer in inn-parlours where +they waited to change horses, nauseated her to faintness. Her sensitive +nervous system received too many vivid impressions at once; the intense +melancholy of the scenes they passed through, the wretched hovels, the +half-clad people, the lean cattle, and all the evidences of abject +poverty, amid dreadful bogs under a gloomy sky, got hold of her and +weighed upon her spirits, until at last she shrunk into her corner, pale +and still, and sat with her eyes closed, and great tears running slowly +down her cheeks. These were her last impressions of Ireland, and they +afterwards coloured all her recollections of the country and the people.</p> + +<p>But the travellers came to a railway station at last, and left the +coach. There was a long crowded train just about to start; and Mrs. +Caldwell, dragging Beth after her by the hand, because she knew she +would stand still and stare about her the moment she let her go, hurried +from carriage to carriage, trying to find seats.</p> + +<p>"I saw some," Beth said. "You've passed them."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell turned, and, some distance back, found a carriage with +only two people in it, a gentleman whom Beth did not notice +particularly, and a lady, doubtless a bride, dressed in light garments, +and a white bonnet, very high in front, the space between the forehead +and the top being filled with roses. She sat upright in the middle of +the compartment, and looked superciliously at the weary, worried widow, +and her helpless children, in their shabby black, when they stopped at +the carriage door. It was her cold indifference that impressed Beth. She +could not understand why, seeing how worn they all were and the fix they +were in, she did not jump up instantly and open the door, overjoyed to +be able to help them. There were just four seats in the + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> carriage, but +she never moved. Beth had looked up confidently into her face, expecting +sympathy and help, but was repelled by a disdainful glance. It was +Beth's first experience of the wealthy world that does not care, and she +never forgot it.</p> + +<p>"That carriage is engaged," her mother exclaimed, and dragged her +impatiently away.</p> + +<p>In the hotel in Dublin where they slept a night, they had the use of a +long narrow sitting-room, with one large window at the end, hung with +handsome, heavy, dark green curtains, quite new. The valance at the top +ended in a deep fringe of thick cords, and at the end of each cord there +was a bright ornamental thing made of wood covered with silks of various +colours. Beth had never seen anything so lovely, and on the instant she +determined to have one. They were high out of her reach; but that was +nothing if only she could get a table and chair under them, and the +coast clear. Fortune favoured her during the evening, and she managed to +secure one, and carried it off in triumph; and so great was her joy in +the colour, that she took it out of her pocket whenever she had a chance +next day, and gazed at it enraptured. On their way to the boat Mildred +caught her looking at it, and asked her where she got it.</p> + +<p>Beth explained exactly.</p> + +<p>"But it's stealing!" Mildred exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Is it?" said Beth, in pleased surprise. She had never stolen anything +before, and it was a new sensation.</p> + +<p>"But don't you know stealing is very wicked?" Mildred asked +impressively.</p> + +<p>Beth looked disconcerted: "I never thought of that. I'll put it back."</p> + +<p>"How can you? You'll never be there again," Mildred rejoined. "You've +done it now. You've committed a sin."</p> + +<p>Beth slipped the bright thing into her pocket. "I'll repent," she said, +and seemed satisfied.</p> + +<p>It was a lovely day, and the passage from Kingstown to Holyhead was so +smooth that everybody lounged about the deck, and no one was ill. Beth +was very much interested, first in the receding shore, then in the +people about her. There was one group in particular, evidently of +affluent people, dressed in a way that made her feel ashamed of her own +clothes for the first time in her life. But what particularly attracted +her attention were some bunches of green and purple grapes which the +papa of the party took out of a basket and began to divide. Beth had +never seen grapes before except in pictures, and thought they looked +lovely. The old gentleman gave the grapes to his family, but in handing +them, one little bunch fell on the deck. He picked it up, looked at it, +blew some dust off it; then decided that it was + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> not good enough for his +own children, and handed it to Bernadine, who was gazing greedily.</p> + +<p>Beth dashed forward, snatched it out of her hand, and threw it into the +sea.</p> + +<p>"We are not beggars!" she cried.</p> + +<p>"Well done, little one," a gentleman who was sitting near exclaimed. +"Won't pick up the crumbs that fall from the rich man's table, eh? +That's a very proper spirit. And who may you be?"</p> + +<p>"My father was a gentleman," Beth answered hotly.</p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">Uncle James Patten</span> sent a landau to meet his sister and her family at +the station, on their arrival from Ireland. Mildred was the first to +jump in. She took the best seat, and sat up stiff and straight.</p> + +<p>"I do love carriages and horses, mamma," she said, as they drove through +Rainharbour, the little north-country seaside place which was henceforth +to be their home. "I wonder which is to be our house. There are several +empty. Do you think it is that one?" She had singled out one of the +largest in the place.</p> + +<p>"No," said Mrs. Caldwell rather bitterly, "more likely this," and she +indicated a tiny two-storied tenement, wedged in between tall houses, +and looking as if it had either got itself there by mistake, or had been +put in in a hurry, just to fill up.</p> + +<p>"That <i>is</i> the one," Beth said.</p> + +<p>"How do you know?" Mildred snapped.</p> + +<p>"Because we're going to live in Orchard Street, opposite the orchard; +and this is Orchard Street, and there's the orchard, and that's the only +house empty."</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid the child is right," Mrs. Caldwell said with a sigh. +"However," she added, pulling herself up, "it is exceedingly kind of +Uncle James to give us a house at all."</p> + +<p>"He might have given us something nicer," Mildred remarked disdainfully.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" Beth exclaimed, "he's given us the best he has, I expect. And it's +a dear little place, with a little bow-window on either side of a little +front door—just like the one where Snowdrop found the empty beds when +the bears were out."</p> + +<p>"Don't talk nonsense, Beth," Mildred cried crossly.</p> + +<p>But Beth hardly heard. She was busy peopling the quaint little town with +the friends of her fancy, and sat smiling serenely as she looked about +her.</p> + +<p>They had to drive right through Rainharbour, and about a + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> mile out into +the country on the other side, to arrive at Fairholm, Uncle James +Patten's place. The sun had set, and the quaintly irregular red-brick +houses, mellowed by age, shone warm in tint against the gathering grey +of the sky, which rose like a leaden dome above them. At one part of the +road the sea came in sight. Great dark mountainous masses of cloud, with +flame-coloured fringes, hung suspended over its shining surface, in +which they were reflected with what was to Beth terrible effect. She sat +and shivered with awe so long as the lurid scene was in sight, and was +greatly relieved when the carriage turned into a country lane, and sea +and sombre sky were blotted out.</p> + +<p>It was early spring. Buds were bursting in the hedgerows, birds were +building, songsters sang among the branches, and the air was sweet and +mild. Fairholm lay all among fertile fields, well wooded and watered. It +was a typical English home, with surroundings as unlike the great, bare, +bald mountains and wild Atlantic seas Beth had hitherto shuddered +amongst, as peace is unlike war. Certain natures are stimulated by the +grandeur of such scenes; but Beth was too delicate an instrument to be +played upon so roughly. Storms within reflected the storms without only +too readily. She was tempest-tossed by temperament, and, in nature, all +her yearning was for repose; so that now, as they drove up the +well-ordered avenue to the house, the tender tone of colour, green +against quiet grey, and the easy air of affluence, so soothing after the +sorrowful signs of a hard struggle for life by which her feelings had +hitherto been harrowed, drew from her a deep sigh of satisfaction.</p> + +<p>The hall-door stood open, but no one was looking out for them. They +could hear the tinkle of a piano in the distance. Then a servant +appeared, followed by a stout lady, who came forward to greet them in a +hurried, nervous way.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad to see you," she said, kissing Mrs. Caldwell. She spoke in a +breathless undertone, as if she were saying something wrong, and was +afraid of being caught and stopped before she had finished the sentence. +"I should like to have gone to meet you, but James said there were too +many for the carriage as it was. He says more than two in the carriage +makes it look like an excursion-party. But I was listening for you, only +I don't hear very well, you know. You remember me, Mildred? This is +Beth, I suppose, and this is Bernadine. You don't know who I am? I am +your Aunt Grace Mary. James begs you to excuse him for a little, +Caroline. It is his half-hour for exercises. So unfortunate. If you had +only come a little later! But, however, the sooner the better for me. +Come into the dining-room and see Aunt Victoria. We must stay there +until Uncle James has finished practising his exercises in the +drawing-room." + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></p> + +<p>Great-Aunt Victoria Bench was sitting bolt upright on a high chair in +the dining-room, tatting. Family portraits, hung far too high all round +the room, seemed to have been watching her complacently until the +travellers entered, when they all turned instantly and looked hard at +Beth.</p> + +<p>Aunt Victoria was a tall thin old lady, with a beautiful delicate +complexion, an auburn front and white cap, and a severely simple black +dress. She rose stiffly to receive Mrs. Caldwell, and kissed her on both +cheeks with restrained emotion. Then she shook hands with each of the +children.</p> + +<p>"I hope you had a pleasant journey," she was beginning formally, when +Mrs. Caldwell suddenly burst into tears. "What is the matter, Caroline?" +Aunt Victoria asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, nothing," the poor lady answered in a broken voice. "Only it does +seem a sad home-returning—alone—without <i>him</i>—you know."</p> + +<p>Aunt Grace Mary furtively patted Mrs. Caldwell on the back, keeping an +eye on Aunt Victoria the while, however, as if she were afraid of being +caught.</p> + +<p>All this time the tinkle-tinkle-tinkle of "Hamilton's Exercises for +Beginners" on the piano had been going on; now it stopped. Aunt Grace +Mary slipped into a chair, and sat with a smile on her face; Aunt +Victoria became a trifle more rigid over her tatting; and Mrs. Caldwell +hurriedly wiped her eyes. Then the door opened deliberately, and there +entered a great stout man, with red hair sprinkled with grey, large +prominent light-coloured eyes, a nondescript nose, a wide shapeless gash +of a mouth, and a red moustache with straight bristly hairs, like the +bristles of a broom.</p> + +<p>"How do you do, Caroline?" he said, holding out his big, fat, white +hand, and kissing her coldly on the forehead. He drawled his words out +with a decided lisp, and in a very soft voice, which contrasted oddly +with his huge bulk. Having greeted his sister, he turned and looked at +the children. Mildred went up and shook hands with him.</p> + +<p>"Your sisters, I perceive, have no manners," he observed.</p> + +<p>Beth had been beaming round blandly on the group; but upon that last +remark of Uncle James's the pleased smile faded from her face, and she +coloured painfully, and offered him a small reluctant hand.</p> + +<p>"You are Elizabeth, I suppose?" he said.</p> + +<p>"I am Beth," she answered emphatically.</p> + +<p>She and Uncle James looked into each other's eyes for an instant, and in +that instant she made a most disagreeable impression of fearlessness on +the big man's brain.</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p><p> +"I hope, Caroline," he said precisely, "that you will not continue to +call your daughter by such an absurd abbreviation. That sort of thing +was all very well in the wilds of Ireland, but here we must have +something rational, ladylike, and recognised."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell looked distressed. "It would be so difficult to call her +Elizabeth," she pleaded. "She is not at all—Elizabeth."</p> + +<p>"You may call me what you like, mamma," Beth put in with decision; "but +I shall only answer to Beth. That was the name my father gave me, and I +shall stick to it."</p> + +<p>Uncle James stared at her in amazement, but Beth, unabashed, stared back +obstinately; and so they continued staring until Aunt Grace Mary made a +diversion.</p> + +<p>"James," she hurriedly interposed, "wouldn't they like some +refreshment?"</p> + +<p>Uncle James pulled the bell-rope. "Bring wine and cake," he lisped, when +the servant answered.</p> + +<p>Then he returned to his seat, crossed one great leg over the other, +folded his fat hands on his knee, and inspected his sister.</p> + +<p>"You certainly do not grow younger, Caroline," he observed.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell did not look cheered by the remark; and there was a +painful pause, broken, happily, by the arrival of the cake and wine.</p> + +<p>"You will not take more than half a glass, I suppose, Caroline, at +<i>this</i> time of the day," Uncle James said playfully, as he took up the +decanter; "and marsala, <i>not</i> port. I know what ladies are."</p> + +<p>Poor Mrs. Caldwell was exhausted, and would have been the better for a +good glass of port; but she meekly held her peace.</p> + +<p>Then Uncle James cut the cake, and gave each of the children a very +small slice. Beth held hers suspended half-way to her mouth, and gazed +at her uncle.</p> + +<p>"What <i>is</i> that child staring at?" he asked her mother at last.</p> + +<p>"I think she is admiring you," was Mrs. Caldwell's happy rejoinder.</p> + +<p>"No, mamma, I am not," Beth contradicted. "I was just thinking I had +never seen anything so big in my life."</p> + +<p>"<i>Anything!</i>" Uncle James protested. "What does she mean, Caroline?"</p> + +<p>"I don't mean this slice of cake," Beth chuckled.</p> + +<p>"Come, dear—come, dear," Aunt Grace Mary hurriedly interposed. "Come +upstairs, and see—and see—the pretty room you're to have. Come and +take your things off, like a good child."</p> + +<p>Beth rose obediently, but before she followed her aunt out of the room +she said: "Here, Bernadine; you'd better have my slice. You'll howl if +you don't get enough. Cakes are scarce and dear here, I suppose." + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span></p> + +<p>Aunt Victoria had tatted diligently during this little scene. Now she +looked up over her spectacles and inspected Uncle James.</p> + +<p>"I like that child," she said decidedly.</p> + +<p>"In which respect I should think you would probably find yourself in a +very small minority," Uncle James lisped, spreading his mouth into what +would have been a smile in any other countenance, but was merely an +elongation of the lips in his.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell rocked herself forlornly. Mildred nestled close to her +mother; while Baby Bernadine, with a slice of cake in each hand, took a +mouthful first from the right and then from the left, impartially.</p> + +<p>Uncle James gazed at her. "I suppose that is an Irish custom," he said +at length.</p> + +<p>"Bernadine! what are you doing?" Mrs. Caldwell snapped; and Bernadine, +startled, let both slices fall on the floor, and set up a howl with her +mouth full.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" Uncle James murmured tenderly. "Little children are such darling +things! They make the sense of their presence felt the moment they enter +a house. It becomes visible also in the crumbs on the floor. There is +evidently nothing the matter with her lungs. But I should have thought +it would be dangerous to practise her voice like that with the mouth +full. Perhaps she would be more at her ease upstairs." Mrs. Caldwell +took the hint.</p> + +<p>When the child had gone, Uncle James rang for a servant to sweep up the +cake and crumbs, and carefully stood over her, superintending.</p> + +<p>"That will do," he said at length, "so far as the cake and crumbs are +concerned, but I beg you to observe that you have brushed the pile of +the carpet the wrong way."</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Aunt Grace Mary had taken Beth up a polished staircase, +through a softly carpeted, airy corridor, at the end of which was a +large room with two great mahogany four-post beds, hung with brown +damask, the rest of the heavy old-fashioned furniture being to match. +All over the house there was a delicious odour of fresh air and +lavender, everything shone resplendent, and all was orderly to the point +of stiffness; nothing looked as if it had ever been used.</p> + +<p>"This was your mamma's room when she was a girl," Aunt Grace Mary +confided to Beth. "She used to fill the house with her girl-friends, and +that was why she had such big beds. She used to be a very high-spirited +girl, your dear mamma was. You are all to sleep here."</p> + +<p>"How good it smells," said Beth.</p> + +<p>"Ah, that's the lavender. I often burn lavender. Would you like to see +me burn some lavender? Come to my room, then, and I'll show you. But +take your things off first." + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span></p> + +<p>Beth dragged off her hat and jacket and threw them aside. They happened +to fall on the floor.</p> + +<p>"My dear child!" Aunt Grace Mary exclaimed, "look at your things!"</p> + +<p>Beth looked at them, but nothing occurred to her; so she looked at her +aunt inquiringly.</p> + +<p>"I always put mine away—at least I should, you know, if I hadn't a +maid," said Aunt Grace Mary.</p> + +<p>"Oh, let your maid put mine away too," Beth answered casually.</p> + +<p>"But, my dear child, you must learn," Aunt Grace Mary insisted, picking +up Beth's things and putting them in a drawer as she spoke. "Who puts +your things away at home?"</p> + +<p>"Mamma," Beth answered laconically. "She says it's less trouble to do +things herself."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but you must save your mother the trouble, dear," said Aunt Grace +Mary in a shocked tone.</p> + +<p>"Well, I will next time—if I remember," Beth rejoined. "Come and burn +lavender."</p> + +<p>For the next few days, which happened to be very fine, Beth revelled out +of doors. Everything was a wonder and a joy to her in this fertile land, +the trees especially, after the bleak, wild wastes to which she had been +accustomed in the one stormy corner of Ireland she knew. Leaves and +blossoms were just bursting out, and one day, wandering alone in the +grounds, she happened unawares upon an orchard in full bloom, and fairly +gasped, utterly overcome by the first shock of its beauty. For a while +she stood and gazed in silent awe at the white froth of flowers on the +pear-trees, the tinted almond blossom, and the pink-tipped apple. She +had never dreamed of such heavenly loveliness. But enthusiasm succeeded +to awe at last, and, in a wild burst of delight, she suddenly threw her +arms around a gnarled tree-trunk and clasped it close.</p> + +<p>There was a large piece of artificial water in the grounds, in which +were three green islands covered with trees and shrubs. Beth was +standing on the bank one morning in a contemplative mood, admiring the +water, and yearning for a boat to get to the islands, when round one of +them, unexpectedly, a white wonder of a swan came gliding towards her in +the sunshine.</p> + +<p>"Oh, oh! Mildred! Mildred! Oh, the beautiful, beautiful thing!" she +cried. Mildred came running up.</p> + +<p>"Why, Beth, you idiot," she exclaimed in derision, "it's only a swan. I +really thought it <i>was</i> something."</p> + +<p>"Is that a swan?" Beth said slowly; then, after a moment, she added, in +sorrowful reproach: "O Mildred! you had seen it and you never told me." + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p> + +<p>Alas, poor Mildred! she had not seen it, and never would see it, in +Beth's sense of the word.</p> + +<p>On wet days, when they had to be indoors, Aunt Grace Mary waylaid Beth +continually, and trotted her off somewhere out of Uncle James's way. She +would take her to her own room sometimes, a large, bright apartment, +spick-and-span like the rest of the house; and show her the +pictures—pastels and water-colours chiefly—with which it was stiffly +decorated.</p> + +<p>"That was your uncle when he was a little boy," she said, pointing to a +pretty pastel.</p> + +<p>"Why, he was quite a nice little boy," Beth exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Yes, nice and plump," Aunt Grace Mary rattled off breathlessly. "And +your grandmamma did those water-colours and those screens. That lovely +printing too; can you guess how she did it? With a camel's hair brush. +She did indeed. And she used to compose music. She was a very clever +woman. You are very like her."</p> + +<p>"But I am not very clever," said Beth.</p> + +<p>"No, dear; no, dear," Aunt Grace Mary rejoined, pulling herself up +hurriedly from this indiscretion. "But in the face. You are very like +her in appearance. And you must try. You must try to improve yourself. +Your uncle is always trying to improve himself. He reads 'Doctor Syntax' +aloud to us. In the evening it is our custom to read aloud and +converse."</p> + +<p>An occasional phrase of Uncle James's would flow from Aunt Grace Mary in +this way, with incongruous effect.</p> + +<p>"Do you try to improve yourself?" Beth asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear."</p> + +<p>"How?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, well—that reminds me. I must write a letter. You shall stay and +see me if you like. But you mustn't move or speak."</p> + +<p>Beth, deeply interested, watched her aunt, who began by locking the +door. Then she slipped a pair of spectacles out of her pocket, and put +them on, after glancing round apprehensively as if she were going to do +something wrong. Then she sat down at a small bureau, unlocked a drawer, +and took out a little dictionary, unlocked another drawer and took out a +sheet of notepaper, in which she inserted a page of black lines. Then +she proceeded to write a letter in lead-pencil, stopping often to +consult the dictionary. When she had done, she took out another sheet of +a better quality, put the lines in it, and proceeded to copy the letter +in ink. She blotted the first attempt, but the next she finished. She +destroyed several envelopes also before she was satisfied. But at last +the letter was folded and sealed, and then she carefully burnt every +scrap of paper she had spoiled. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I was educated in a convent in France," she said to Beth. "If you were +older you would know that by my handwriting. It is called an Italian +hand, but I learnt it in France. I was there five years."</p> + +<p>"What else did you learn?" said Beth.</p> + +<p>"Oh—reading. No—I could read before I went. But music, you know, and +French."</p> + +<p>"Say some French," said Beth.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I can't," Aunt Grace Mary answered. "But I can read it a little, +you know."</p> + +<p>"I should like to hear you play," said Beth.</p> + +<p>"But I don't play," Aunt Grace Mary rejoined.</p> + +<p>"I thought you said you learnt music."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes. I had to learn music; and I practised for hours every day; but +I never played."</p> + +<p>Aunt Grace Mary smiled complacently as she spoke, took off her +spectacles, and locked up her writing materials—Beth, the while, +thoughtfully observing her. Aunt Grace Mary's hair was a wonderful +colour, neither red, yellow, brown, nor white, but a mixture of all +four. It was parted straight in the middle, where it was thin, and +brought down in two large rolls over her ears. She wore a black velvet +band across her head like a coronet, which ended in a large black velvet +bow at the back. Long heavy gold ear-rings pulled down the lobes of her +ears. All her dresses were of rustling silk, and she had a variety of +deep lace-collars, each one of which she fastened with a different +brooch at the throat. She also wore a heavy gold watch-chain round her +neck, the watch being concealed in her bosom; and jet bracelets by day, +but gold ones in the evening.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>Beth was deeply interested in her own family history, and intelligently +pieced together such fragments of it as she could collect from the +conversations of the people about her. She was sitting in one of the +deep window-seats in the drawing-room looking out one day, concealed by +a curtain, when her mother and Great-Aunt Victoria Bench came into the +room, and settled themselves to chat and sew without observing her.</p> + +<p>"Where is Grace Mary?" Aunt Victoria asked.</p> + +<p>"Locked up in her own room writing a letter, I believe," Mrs. Caldwell +replied, "a long and mysterious proceeding. We shall not see her again +this morning, I suppose."</p> + +<p>"Ah, well," said Aunt Victoria considerately, "she writes a very +beautiful hand."</p> + +<p>"James thought he was doing so well for himself, too!" Mrs. Caldwell +interjected. "He'd better have married the mother."</p> + +<p>"There was the making of a fine woman in Grace Mary if + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> she had had a +chance," Aunt Victoria answered, pursing up her mouth judicially. "It +was the mother made the match. When he came across them in Switzerland, +Lady Benyon got hold of him, and flattered him, made him believe Grace +Mary was only thirty-eight, not too old for a son-and-heir, but much too +old for a large family. She was really about fifty; but he never thought +of looking up her age until after they were married. However, James got +one thing he likes, and more than he deserved; for Grace Mary is amiable +if she's ignorant; and I should say had tact, though some people might +call it cunning. But, at any rate, she's the daughter of one baronet and +the sister of another."</p> + +<p>"What's a baronet?" Beth demanded, tumbling off the window-seat on to +the floor with a crash as she spoke, having lost her balance in peering +round the curtain.</p> + +<p>Both ladies jumped, quite contrary to their principles.</p> + +<p>"You naughty child, how dare you?" Mrs. Caldwell began.</p> + +<p>Beth picked herself up. "I want to know," she interrupted.</p> + +<p>"You've been listening."</p> + +<p>"No, I've not. I was here first, and you came and talked. But that +doesn't matter. I shan't tell. What's a baronet?"</p> + +<p>Aunt Victoria explained, and then turned her out of the room. Uncle +James was crossing the hall at the moment; he had a large bunch of keys +in his hand, and went through the double-doors which led to the kitchen +and offices. Beth followed him into the kitchen. The cook, an old +servant, came forward curtseying. The remains of yesterday's dinner, +cold roast beef, tongue, chicken, and plum-pudding, were spread out on +the table. Uncle James inspected everything.</p> + +<p>"For luncheon," he said, "the beef can remain cold on the sideboard, +also the tongue. The chicken you will grill for one hot dish, and do not +forget to garnish with rolls of bacon. The pudding you can cut into +slices, fry, and sprinkle with a little sifted sugar. Mind, I say a +little; for, as the pudding is sweet enough already, the sugar is merely +an ornament to make it agreeable to the eye. For the rest, as usual."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. And dinner, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Here is the <i>menu</i>." He handed her a paper. "I will give you out what +is necessary."</p> + +<p>He led the way down a stone passage to the store-room door, which he +unlocked.</p> + +<p>"I am out of sifted sugar, sir," the cook said nervously.</p> + +<p>"What, again?" Uncle James sternly demanded. "This is only Thursday, and +I gave you some out on Saturday."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, but only a quarter of a pound, sir, and I had to use it for +the top of the rice-pudding, and the pancakes, and the Charlotte Russe, +and the plum-pudding——" + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></p> + +<p>"How?" said Uncle James—"the plum-pudding, which is not yet fried?"</p> + +<p>"Beg pardon, sir. I'm all confused. But, however," she added +desperately, "the sugar is done."</p> + +<p>"Well, I suppose I must give you some more this time. But do not let it +occur again. You may weigh out a quarter of a pound."</p> + +<p>When that was done, Uncle James consulted a huge cookery-book which lay +on a shelf in the window. "We shall require another cake for tea," he +said, and then proceeded to read the recipe aloud, keeping an observant +eye upon the cook as she weighed out the various ingredients.</p> + +<p>"And the kitchen meals, sir?" she asked, as he locked up the store-room.</p> + +<p>"Make what you have do," he said, "make what you have do."</p> + +<p>"But there is hardly meat enough to go round once, sir."</p> + +<p>"You must make it do. People are much healthier and happier when they do +not eat too much."</p> + +<p>This ceremony over, he went to the poultry-yard, followed by Beth (who +carefully kept in the background), the yard-boy, and the poultry-maid +who carried some corn in a sieve, which she handed to her master when he +stopped. Uncle James scattered a little corn on the ground, calling +"chuck! chuck! chuck!" at the same time, in a dignified manner. +Chickens, ducks, turkeys and guinea-fowl collected about him, and he +stood gazing at them with large light prominent eyes, blandly, as if he +loved them—as indeed he did when they appeared like ladies at table, +dressed to perfection.</p> + +<p>"That guinea-fowl!" he decided, after due consideration.</p> + +<p>The yard-boy caught it and gave it to the poultry-maid, who held it +while Uncle James carefully felt its breast.</p> + +<p>"That will do," he said. "Quite a beauty."</p> + +<p>The yard-boy took it from the poultry-maid, tied its legs together, cut +its throat, and hung it on a nail.</p> + +<p>"That drake!" Uncle James proceeded. The same ceremony followed, Uncle +James bearing his part in it without any relaxation of his grand manner.</p> + +<p>When a turkey-poult had also been executed, he requested the yard-boy to +fetch him his gun from the harness-room.</p> + +<p>"We must have a pigeon-pie," he observed as he took it.</p> + +<p>Beth, in great excitement, stalked him to the orchard, where there was a +big pigeon-house covered with ivy. In front of it the pigeons had a good +run, enclosed with wire netting when they were shut in; but they were +often let out to feed in the fields. The yard-boy now reached up and +opened a little door in the + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> + side of the house. As he did so he glanced +at Uncle James somewhat apprehensively. Uncle James, with a benign +countenance, suddenly lifted his gun and fired. The yard-boy dropped.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter?" said Uncle James.</p> + +<p>The yard-boy gathered himself up with a very red face. "I thought you +meant to shoot me, sir."</p> + +<p>Uncle James smiled gently. "May I ask when it became customary for +gentlemen to shoot yard-boys?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Beg pardon, sir," the boy rejoined sheepishly. "There's accidents +sometimes."</p> + +<p>The pigeons were wary after the shot, and would not come out, so the +yard-boy had to go into the house and drive them. There was a shelf in +front of the little door, on which they generally rested a moment, +bewildered, before they flew. Uncle James knew them all by sight, and +let several go, as being too old for his purpose. Then, standing pretty +close, he shot two, one after the other, as they stood hesitating to +take flight. While loading again, he discovered Beth; but as he liked an +audience when he was performing an exploit, he was quite gracious.</p> + +<p>"Nothing distinguishes a gentleman more certainly than a love of sport," +he observed blandly, as he shot another pigeon sitting.</p> + +<p>This entertainment over, he looked at his watch. He had the whole day +divided into hours and half-hours, each with its separate occupation or +recreation; and nothing short of a visit from some personage of +importance was ever allowed to interrupt him in any of his pursuits. For +recreation he sometimes did a little knitting or a piece of Berlin +woolwork, because, he said, a gentleman should learn to do everything, +so as not to be at a loss if he were ever wrecked on a desert island. +For the same reason, he had also trained himself to sleep at odd times, +and in all sorts of odd places, choosing by preference some corner where +Aunt Grace Mary and the maids would least expect to find him, the +consequence being wild shrieks and shocks to their nerves, such as, to +use his own bland explanation, might be expected from undisciplined +females. Beth found him one day spread out on a large oak chest in the +main corridor upstairs, with two great china vases, one at his head and +one at his feet, filled with reeds and bulrushes, which appeared to be +waving over him, and looking in his sleep, with his cadaverous +countenance, like a self-satisfied corpse. She had been on her way +downstairs to dispose of the core of an apple she had eaten; but, as +Uncle James's mouth was open, she left it there.</p> + +<p>Uncle James was wont to deliver little lectures to the children, for the +improvement of their minds, during luncheon, which was their +dinner-hour. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span></p> + +<p>"With regularity and practice you may accomplish great things," he said +on one occasion. "I myself always practise 'Hamilton's Exercises' on the +pianoforte for one hour every day, from half-past ten till eleven, and +from half-past three till four. I have done so now for many years."</p> + +<p>Beth sat with her spoon suspended half-way up to her mouth, drinking in +these words of wisdom. "And when will you be able to play?" she asked.</p> + +<p>Uncle James fixed his large, light, ineffectual eyes upon her; but, as +usual, this gaze direct only excited Beth's interest, and she returned +it unabashed in simple expectation of what was to follow. So Uncle James +gave in, and to cover his retreat he said: "Culture. Cultivate the mind. +There is nothing that elevates the mind like general cultivation. It is +cultivation that makes us great, good, and generous."</p> + +<p>"Then, I suppose, when your mind is cultivated, Uncle James, you will +give mamma more money," Beth burst out hopefully.</p> + +<p>Uncle James blinked his eyes several times running, rapidly, as if +something had gone wrong with them.</p> + +<p>"Beth, you are talking too much; go to your room <i>at once</i>, and stay +there for a punishment," her mother exclaimed nervously.</p> + +<p>Beth, innocent of any intent to offend, looked surprised, put down her +spoon deliberately, got off her chair, took up her plate of pudding, and +was making off with it. As she was passing Uncle James, however, he +stretched out his big hand suddenly, and snatched the plate from her; +but Beth in an instant doubled her little fist, and struck the plate +from underneath, the concussion scattering the pudding all over the +front of Uncle James.</p> + +<p>In the confusion which followed, Beth made her escape to the kitchen, +where she was already popular.</p> + +<p>"I say, cook," she coaxed, "give me something good to eat. My pudding's +got upset all over Uncle James."</p> + +<p>The cook sat down suddenly, and twinkled a glance of intelligence at +Horner, the old coachman, who happened to be in the kitchen.</p> + +<p>"Give me a cheesecake—I won't tell," Beth pleaded.</p> + +<p>"That's doubtful, I should think," Horner said aside to the cook.</p> + +<p>"Oh, bless you, she never do, not she!" cook answered, and then she +fetched Beth a big cheesecake from a secret store. Beth took it smiling, +and retired to the brown bedroom, where she was left in solitary +confinement until Uncle James drove out with mamma in Aunt Grace Mary's +pony-carriage to pay a call in the afternoon. When they had gone, Aunt +Grace Mary peeped in at Beth, and said, with an unconvincing affectation +of anger: "Beth, you are a naughty little girl, and deserve to be +punished. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> + Say you're sorry. Then you shall come to my room, and see me +write a letter."</p> + +<p>"All right," Beth answered, and Aunt Grace Mary took her off without +more ado.</p> + +<p>It was a great encouragement to Beth to find that Aunt Grace Mary was +obliged to take pains with her writing. All the other grown-up people +Beth knew, seemed to do everything with such ease, it was quite +disheartening. Beth was allowed a pencil, a sheet of paper, and some +lines herself now, and Aunt Grace Mary was taking great pains to teach +her to write an Italian hand. Beth was also trying to learn: "because +there are such lots of things I want to write down," she explained; "and +I want to do it small like you, because it won't take so much paper, you +know."</p> + +<p>"What kind of things do you want to write down, Beth?" Aunt Grace Mary +asked. Beth treated her quite as an equal, so they chatted the whole +time they were together, unconstrainedly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you know—things like—well, the day we came here there were great +grey clouds with crimson caps hanging over the sea, and you could see +them in the water."</p> + +<p>"See their reflection, you mean, I suppose."</p> + +<p>Beth looked puzzled. "When you think of things, isn't that reflection?" +she asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes; and when you see yourself in the looking-glass, that's your +reflection too," Aunt Grace Mary answered.</p> + +<p>"Oh, then I suppose it was the sea's thought of the sky I saw in the +water—that makes it nicer than I had it before," Beth said, trying to +turn the phrase as a young bird practises to round its notes in the +spring. "The sea shows its thoughts, the thought of the sea is the +sky—no, that isn't right. It never does come right all at once, you +know. But that's the kind of thing."</p> + +<p>"What kind of thing?" Aunt Grace Mary asked, bewildered.</p> + +<p>"The kind of thing I am always wanting to write down. You generally +forget what we're talking about, don't you?—I say, don't you want to +drive your own ponies yourself sometimes?"</p> + +<p>"No, not when your dear uncle wants them."</p> + +<p>"Dear uncle wants them almost always, doesn't he? Horner ses as 'ow——"</p> + +<p>"Beth, don't speak like that!"</p> + +<p>"That's Horner, not me," Beth snapped, impatient of the interruption. +"How am I to tell you what he said if I don't say what he said? Horner +ses as 'ow, when Lady Benyon gev them there white ponies to 'er darter +fur 'er own use, squire 'e sells two on 'is 'orses, an' 'as used them +ponies ever since. Squire's a near un, my word!" Beth perceived that +Aunt Grace Mary looked very funny in the face. "You're frightened to +death of + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> + Uncle James, arn't you?" she asked, after sucking her pencil +meditatively for a little.</p> + +<p>"No, dear, of course not. I am not afraid of any one but the dear Lord."</p> + +<p>"But Uncle James <i>is</i> the lord."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, child."</p> + +<p>"Mildred says so. She says he's lord of the manor. Mildred says it's +fine to be lord of the manor. But it doesn't make me care a button about +Uncle James."</p> + +<p>"Don't speak like that, Beth. It's disrespectful. It was the Lord in +heaven I alluded to," said Aunt Grace Mary in her breathless way.</p> + +<p>"Ah, that <i>is</i> different," Beth allowed. "But I'm not afraid of Him +either. I don't think I'm afraid of any one really, not even of mamma, +though she does beat me. I'd rather she didn't, you know. But one gets +used to it. The worst of it is," Beth added, after sucking the point of +her pencil a little—"The worst of it is, you never know what will make +her waxy. To-day, at luncheon, you know—now, what did I say?"</p> + +<p>"Oh," said Aunt Grace Mary vaguely; "you oughtn't to have said it, you +know."</p> + +<p>"Now, that's just like mamma! She says 'Don't!' and 'How dare you!' and +'Naughty girl!' at the top of her voice, and half the time I don't know +what she's talking about. When I grow up, I shall explain to children. +Do you know, sometimes I quite want to be good"—this with a sigh. "But +when I'm bad without having a notion what I've done, why, it's +difficult. Aunt Grace Mary, do you know what Neptune would say if the +sea dried up?" Aunt Grace Mary smiled and shook her head. "I haven't an +ocean," Beth proceeded. "You don't see it? Well, I didn't at first. You +see <i>an ocean</i> and <i>a notion</i> sound the same if you say them sharp. Now, +do you see? They call that a pun."</p> + +<p>"Who told you that?"</p> + +<p>"A gentleman in the train."</p> + +<p>Beth put her pencil in her mouth, and gazed up at the sky. "I don't +suppose he'd be such a black-hearted villain as to break his word," she +said at last.</p> + +<p>"Who?" Aunt Grace Mary asked, in a startled tone.</p> + +<p>"Uncle James—about leaving Jim the place, you know. Why, don't you +know? Mamma is the eldest, and ought to have had Fairholm, but she was +away in Ireland, busy having me, when grandpapa died, and couldn't come; +so Uncle James frightened the old man into leaving the place to him, and +mamma only got fifty pounds a year, which wasn't fair."</p> + +<p>"Who told you this, Beth?" + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Mildred. Mamma told her. And Horner said the other day to cook—I'll +have to say it the way Horner says it. If I said it my way, you know, +then it wouldn't be Horner—Horner said to cook as 'ow Captain Caldwell +'ud 'a' gone to law about it, but squire 'e swore if 'e'd let the matter +drop, 'e'd make 'is nevee, Master Jim, as is also 'is godson, 'is heir, +an' so square it; and Captain Caldwell, as was a real gen'lmon, an' fond +of the ladies, tuk 'im at 'is word, an' furgiv' 'im. But, lardie! don't +us know the worth o' Mr. James Patten's word!"</p> + +<p>Aunt Grace Mary had turned very pale.</p> + +<p>"Beth," she gasped, "promise me you will never, never, <i>never</i> say a +word about this to your uncle."</p> + +<p>"Not likely," said Beth.</p> + +<p>"How do you remember these things you hear?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I just think them over again when I go to bed, and then they stay," +Beth answered. "I wouldn't tell you half I hear, though—only things +everybody knows. If you tell secrets, you know, you're a tell-pie. And +I'm not a tell-pie. Now, Bernadine is. She's a regular tell-pie. It +seems as if she couldn't help it; but then she's young," Beth added +tolerantly.</p> + +<p>"Were you ever young, I wonder?" Aunt Grace Mary muttered to herself.</p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">Meanwhile</span> the English spring advanced in the beautiful gardens of +Fairholm, and was a joy to Beth. Blossoms showered from the fruit-trees, +green leaves unfurled, the birds were in full song, and the swans curved +their long necks in the sunshine, and breasted the waters of the lake, +as if their own grace were a pleasure to them. Beth was enchanted. Every +day she discovered some new wonder—nests in the hedgerows, lambs in the +fields, a foal and its mother in the paddock, a calf in the byre—more +living interests in one week than she had dreamt of in the whole of her +little life. For a happy interval the scenes which had oppressed +her—the desolation, the sombre colours of the great melancholy +mountains, the incessant sound of the turbulent sea, the shock and roar +of angry breakers warring with the rocks, which had kept her little +being all a-throb, braced to the expectation of calamity—lapsed now +into the background of her recollection, and under the benign influence +of these lovelier surroundings her mind began to expand in the most +extraordinary way, while her further faculty awoke, and gave her +glimpses of more delights than mortal mind could have shown her. "Such +nice things," as she expressed it, "keep coming into my head, and I want +to + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> + write them down." Books she flung away impatiently; but the woods +and streams, and the wild flowers, the rooks returning to roost in the +trees at sunset, the horses playing in the paddocks, the cows dawdling +back from their pastures, all sweet country scents and cheerful country +sounds she became alive to and began to love. There would be trouble +enough in Beth herself at times, wherever she was; it was hard that she +could not have been kept in some such paradise always, to ease the +burden of her being.</p> + +<p>One morning her mother told her that Uncle James was extremely +displeased with her because he had seen her pelting the swans.</p> + +<p>"He didn't see me pelting the swans," Beth asseverated. "I was feeding +them with crusts. And how did he see me, any way? He wasn't there."</p> + +<p>"He sees everything that's going on," Mrs. Caldwell assured her.</p> + +<p>"He's only pretending," Beth argued, "or else he must be God."</p> + +<p>But she kept her eyes about her the next time she was in the grounds, +and at last she discovered him, sitting in the little window of his +dressing-room with a book before him, and completely blocking the +aperture. She had never noticed him there before, because the panes were +small and bright, and the shine on them made it difficult to see through +them from below. After this discovery she always felt that his eyes were +upon her wherever she went within range of that window. Not that that +would have deterred her had she wanted to do anything particularly; but +even a child feels it intolerable to be spied upon; and as for a spy! +Beth scorned the creature.</p> + +<p>That day at luncheon Uncle James made an announcement.</p> + +<p>"Lady Benyon is going to honour us with a visit," he began in his most +impressive manner. There is no snob so inveterate as your snob of good +birth; and Uncle James said "Lady" as if it were a privilege just to +pronounce the word. "She will arrive this afternoon at a quarter to +four."</p> + +<p>"But you will be practising," Beth exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"The rites of hospitality must be observed," he condescended to inform +her.</p> + +<p>"Lady Benyon is my mother, Beth," Aunt Grace Mary put in irrelevantly.</p> + +<p>"I know," Beth answered. "Your papa was a baronet; Uncle James loves +baronets; that was why he married you." Having thus disposed of Aunt +Grace Mary, Beth turned to the other end of the table, and resumed: "But +you went on practising when <i>we</i> arrived, Uncle James." + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span></p> + +<p>Uncle James gazed at her blandly, then looked at his sister with an +agreeable smile. "Lady Benyon will probably like to see the children. +You do not dress them in the latest fashion, I observe."</p> + +<p>"They <i>are</i> shabby," Mrs. Caldwell acknowledged with a sigh, +apologetically.</p> + +<p>Beth shovelled some spoonfuls of pudding into her mouth very quickly. +"That's the money bother again," she said, and then she sang out at the +top of her voice—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"> "Bryan O'Lynn had no breeches to wear,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He bought a sheepskin for to make him a pair,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With the skinny side out, and the woolly side in,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">'They're warm in the winter,' said Bryan O'Lynn."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"I suppose it would be quite impossible to suppress this child?" Uncle +James lisped with deceptive mildness. "I observe that she joins in the +conversation always, with great intelligence and her mouth full. It +might be better, perhaps, if she emptied her mouth. However, I suppose +it would be impossible to teach her."</p> + +<p>"Not at all," Beth answered for herself, cheerfully. "I'm not too stupid +to empty my mouth! Only just you tell me what it is you want. Don't +bottle things up. I expect I've been speaking with my mouth full ever +since I came, and you've been hating me for it; but you never told me."</p> + +<p>"May I ask," said Uncle James politely, "by whom you were informed that +I 'bottled things up'?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, that would be telling," said Beth, and recommenced gobbling her +pudding, to the intense relief of some of the party.</p> + +<p>Great-Aunt Victoria Bench, sitting upright opposite, looked across the +table at the child, and a faint smile flickered over her wrinkled +rose-leaf cheek.</p> + +<p>Beth finished her pudding, dropped her spoon on her plate with a +clatter, leant back in her chair, and sighed with satisfaction. She +possessed a horrid fascination for Uncle James. Almost everything she +did was an offence to him, yet he could not keep his eyes off her or let +her alone.</p> + +<p>"Pudding seems to be a weakness of hers," he now observed. "I hope her +voracity is satisfied. I should say that it resembles the voracity of +the caterpillar."</p> + +<p>"What's voracity, Aunt Victoria?" Beth asked.</p> + +<p>"Greediness," Aunt Victoria rejoined sententiously.</p> + +<p>"He means I'm greedy for pudding? I just <i>am</i>! I'd like to be a +caterpillar for pudding. Caterpillars eat all day. But then God's good +to them. He puts them on a tree with lots of leaves. I wish He'd put me +in a pantry with lots of puddings! + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> + My vorass—vor—what is it? Any way, +it's satisfied now, Uncle James, and if you'll let me go, I'll wash +myself, and get ready for Lady Benyon."</p> + +<p>Rather than let her go when she wanted to, however, Uncle James sat some +time longer at table than he had intended. It was he who always gave the +signal to rise; before he did so on this occasion, he formally requested +his sister to request Beth to be silent during Lady Benyon's visit.</p> + +<p>Lady Benyon was a shrewd, active little old woman, with four dark curls +laid horizontally on either side of her forehead. She had bright black +sparkling eyes that glanced about quickly and seemed to see everything. +Before she arrived, Uncle James assembled his family in the +drawing-room, and set the scene, as it were, for her reception.</p> + +<p>"Sit here, facing the window, Caroline," he said. "It will interest Lady +Benyon to see how you have aged. And, Aunt Victoria, this Chippendale +chair, so stiff and straight, is just like you, I think; so oblige me by +sitting on it. Grace Mary, take this easy lounge; it suits your yielding +nature. Elizabeth"—Beth, who was perched on the piano-stool, looked up +calmly at the clouds through the window opposite. "Elizabeth," he +repeated sharply. Beth made no sign.</p> + +<p>"Beth, answer your uncle directly," Mrs. Caldwell exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"He has not yet addressed me," Beth rejoined, in the manner of Uncle +James.</p> + +<p>"Don't call your uncle 'he,' you naughty girl. You know your name is +Elizabeth."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and I know I said I wouldn't answer to it, and I'm not going to +break me oath."</p> + +<p>"Me oath!" Uncle James ejaculated.</p> + +<p>Beth looked disconcerted. It irked her horribly to be jeered at for +making a mistake in speaking, and Uncle James, seeing she was hurt, +rested satisfied for the moment, and arranged Mildred and Bernadine +together in a group, leaving Beth huddled up on the piano-stool, +frowning.</p> + +<p>When Lady Benyon's carriage stopped at the door, Uncle James stood +bareheaded on the steps, ready to receive her.</p> + +<p>"So glad to see you, mamma," he lisped, as he handed her out. "<i>Do</i> take +my arm."</p> + +<p>But the little old lady waved him aside unceremoniously, and hobbled in +with the brisk stiffness of age.</p> + +<p>"Gracious!" she exclaimed when she saw the party arranged in the +drawing-room. "You all look as if you were having your likeness +taken—all except Puck there, on the piano-stool."</p> + +<p>When Uncle James had manœuvred Lady Benyon into the seat of honour he +intended her to take in order to complete the + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> picture, she frankly +inspected each member of the group, ending with Beth.</p> + +<p>"And who may you be?" she asked.</p> + +<p>Beth smiled and shrugged her shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you speak?"</p> + +<p>Beth made another gesture.</p> + +<p>"Goodness!" Lady Benyon cried; "is the child an idiot?"</p> + +<p>"Beth, answer Lady Benyon directly," Mrs. Caldwell angrily commanded.</p> + +<p>"Uncle James requested mamma to request me not to speak when you were +present," Beth explained suavely.</p> + +<p>The old lady burst out laughing. "Well, that's droll," she +said—"requested mamma to request me—why, it's James Patten all over. +And who may you be, you monkey?"</p> + +<p>"I am Elizabeth Caldwell, but I only answer to Beth. Papa called me +Beth."</p> + +<p>"Good!" said the little old lady. "And what's Ireland like?"</p> + +<p>"Great dark mountains," Beth rattled off, with big eyes dilated and +fixed on space, as if she saw what she described. "Long, long, long, +black bogs; all the poor people starving; and the sea rough—just like +hell, you know, but without the fire."</p> + +<p>"Oh, now, this <i>is</i> delightful!" the old lady chuckled. "I'm to enjoy +myself to-day, it seems. You didn't prepare me for this treat, James +Patten!"</p> + +<p>Uncle James simpered, as though taking to himself the credit of the +whole entertainment.</p> + +<p>"So you hate Ireland?" said Lady Benyon.</p> + +<p>"No, I love it," said Beth. "It's me native country; and they don't give +you little bits of cake there the size of sixpence. What they have +you're welcome to. Long live Ireland!"</p> + +<p>"Good!" Lady Benyon ejaculated; then turned to Mildred. "And are you +another naughty little patriot?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"No, <i>I'm</i> not naughty," Mildred answered piously.</p> + +<p>"Beth's naughty," said Bernadine.</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I don't know <i>what</i> Beth is not," the old lady declared, +turning to Beth again.</p> + +<p>"Riley said I was one of the little girls the devil put out when he gave +up housekeeping," Beth remarked casually.</p> + +<p>"Beth!" Mrs. Caldwell remonstrated.</p> + +<p>"He did, mamma. He said it the day that perjured villain Pat Murphy +killed my magpie. And Riley's a good man. You said so yourself."</p> + +<p>"You can hear that the young lady has been in Ireland, I suppose, +mamma," Uncle James observed. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I hear she can imitate the Irish," Lady Benyon rejoined bluntly; "and +not the Irish only," she added with a chuckle.</p> + +<p>Beth was still sitting on the music-stool opposite the window, and +presently she saw some one cross the lawn. "Oh, do look at the lovely +lady," she cried enthusiastically. "She's just like the Princess +Blue-eyes-and-golden-hair."</p> + +<p>Lady Benyon glanced over her shoulder. "Why, it's my maid," she said.</p> + +<p>Beth's countenance dropped, then cleared again. Even a maid might be a +princess in disguise.</p> + +<p>Lady Benyon was going to stay all night, and at her special request +Mildred and Beth were allowed to sit up to late dinner and prayers. She +expected Beth to amuse her, but Beth was busy the whole time weaving a +romance about the lovely lady's-maid, and scarcely spoke a word. When +the servants came in to prayers, she sat and gazed at her heroine, and +forgot to stand or kneel. She noticed, however, that Uncle James read +the evening prayers with peculiar fervour.</p> + +<p>When Beth went to bed, she found Bernadine, who slept with her, fast +asleep. Beth was not at all sleepy. Her intellect had been on the alert +all day, and would not let her rest now; she must do something to keep +up the excitement. She pulled the blind aside, and, looking out of the +window, discovered an enchanted land, all soft shadow and silver sheen, +and above it an exquisite moon, in an empty sky, floated serenely. "Oh, +to be out in the moonlight!" she sighed to herself. "The fairy-folk—the +fairy-folk." For a little her mind was a blank as she gazed; then words +came tripping a measure—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"> "The fairy-folk are calling me,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Are calling me, are calling me;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">They come across the stormy sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To play with me, to play with me."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Beth's vague longing crisped itself into a resolution. She looked at the +big four-post bed. The curtains were drawn on one side of it. Should she +draw them on the other, on the chance of her mother not looking in? No, +she must wait, because of Mildred. Mildred was undressing, and would say +her prayers presently. Beth waited until she knelt down, then slipped +her night-dress on over her clothes, and got into bed, without +disturbing Bernadine. Now she must wait for her mother; but Mrs. +Caldwell came up very soon, Uncle James having hurried every one off to +bed unusually early that evening. Mrs. Caldwell was a long time +undressing, as it seemed to Beth; but in the meantime Mildred had fallen +asleep, and very soon after her mother got into bed she too began to +breathe with reassuring regularity. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span></p> + +<p>Then Beth got up, opened the door very gently, and slipped out into the +dark passage.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"> "The fairy-folk are calling me,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Are calling me, are calling me;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">They come across the stormy sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To play with me, to play with me."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The words set themselves to a merry tune, and carried Beth on with them.</p> + +<p>All was dark in the hall. The front door was locked and bolted, and the +shutters were up in all the rooms; how was she to get out? She felt for +the green baize double-door which shut off the kitchen from the other +parts of the house, opened it, and groped her way down the passage. As +she did so, she saw a faint glimmer of light at the far end—not +candlelight, moonlight—and at the same moment she became aware of some +one else moving. At the end of the passage she was in, there was a +little door leading out into a garden. If that were open all would be +easy. She had stopped to listen. Certainly some one else was moving +quite close to her. What was she near? Oh, the store-room. Something +grated like a key in a lock—a door was opened, a match struck, a candle +lighted; and there was Mrs. Cook in the store-room itself, hurriedly +filling paper-bags with tea, sugar, raisins, currants, and other +groceries from Uncle James's carefully guarded treasure, and packing +them into a small hamper with a lid. When the hamper was full she blew +out the candle, came out of the store-room, locked the door after her, +and went into the kitchen, without discovering Beth. She left the +kitchen door open; the blind was up; and Beth could see a man, whom she +recognised as the cook's son, standing in the moonlight.</p> + +<p>"Is there much this time, mother?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"A goodish bit," cook replied, handing him the hamper.</p> + +<p>"'E 'asn't 'ad 'is eyes about 'im much o' late, then?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, 'e allus 'as 'is eyes about 'im, but 'e doan't see much. You'll get +me what ye can?"</p> + +<p>"I will so," her son replied, and kissed cook as she let him out of the +back-door, which she fastened after him. Then she went off herself up +the back-stairs to bed.</p> + +<p>When all was quiet again, Beth thought of the garden-door at the end of +the passage. To her relief she found it ajar; the gleam of light she had +seen in that direction was the moonlight streaming through the crevice. +She slipped out cautiously; but the moment she found herself in the +garden she became a wild creature, revelling in her freedom. She ran, +jumped, waved her arms about, threw herself down on the ground, and +rolled over and over for yards, walked on all fours, turned head over +heels, embraced + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> +the trunks of trees, and hailed them with the Eastern +invocation, "O tree, give me of thy strength!"</p> + +<p>For a good hour she rioted about the place in this way, working off her +superfluous energy. By that time she had come to the stackyard. There, +among the great stacks, she played hide-and-seek with the fairy-folk for +a little. Very cautiously she would steal round in the black shadows, +stalking her imaginary play-fellows, and then would go flying out into +the moonlight, pursued by them in turn; and looking herself, with her +white night-dress over her clothes, and her tousled hair, the weirdest +little elfin figure in the world. Finally, to escape capture, she ran up +a ladder that had been left against a haystack. Blocks of hay had been +cut out, leaving a square shelf half way down the stack, on to which +Beth scrambled from the ladder. There was room enough for her to lie at +her ease up there and recover her breath. The hay and the night-air +smelt deliciously sweet. The stack she was on was one of the outer row. +Beneath was the road along which the waggons brought their loads in +harvest time; and this was flanked by a low wall, on the other side of +which was a meadow, bordered with elms. Beth pulled up the hay about +her, covered herself with it, and nestled amongst it luxuriously. The +moon shone full upon her, but she had quite concealed herself, and would +probably have fallen asleep after her exertions had it not been that +just when drowsiness was coming upon her she was startled by the sound +of a hurried footstep, and a girl in a light dress, with a shawl about +her shoulders, came round the stack, and stood still, looking about her, +as if she expected some one. Beth recognised her as Harriet Elvidge, the +kitchen-maid; and presently Russell, one of the grooms, came hurrying to +meet her from the other direction. They rushed into each other's arms.</p> + +<p>"Thou'st laäte," the girl grumbled.</p> + +<p>"Ah bin waatin' ower yon'er this good bit," he answered, putting his arm +round her, and drawing her to the wall, on which they sat, leaning +against each other, and whispering happily. The moon was low, and her +great golden disk illumined the sky, against which the two dark figures +stood out, silhouetted distinctly. The effect gave Beth a sensation of +pleasure, and she racked her brains for words in which to express it. +Presently the lovers rose and strolled away together. Then for a little +it was lonely, and Beth thought of getting down; but before she had made +up her mind, two other people appeared, strolling in the moonlight, whom +Beth instantly recognised as Uncle James and the beautiful princess +Blue-eyes-and-golden-hair. The princess had both her hands clasped round +Uncle James's arm, and every now and then she nestled her face against +his shoulder lovingly. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What will Jimmie-wimmie give his Jenny-penny?" she was saying as they +approached.</p> + +<p>"First what will Jenny-penny give her Jimmie-wimmie?" Uncle James cooed.</p> + +<p>"First, a nice—sweet—kiss!"</p> + +<p>"Duckie-dearie!" Jimmie-wimmie gurgled ecstatically, taking the kiss +with the playful grace of an elephant gambolling.</p> + +<p>Beth on the haystack writhed with suppressed merriment until her sides +ached.</p> + +<p>But Jimmie-wimmie and Jenny-penny passed out of sight like Harriet and +Russell before them. The moon was sinking rapidly. A sudden gust of air +blew chill upon Beth. She was extremely sensitive to sudden changes of +temperature, and as the night grew dull and heavy, so did her mood, and +she began to be as anxious to be indoors again as she had been to come +out. The fairy-folk had all vanished now, and ghosts and goblins would +come in their stead, and pounce upon her as she passed, if she were not +quick. Beth scrambled down from the haystack, and made for the side-door +in hot haste, and was half-way upstairs, when it suddenly occurred to +her that if she locked the door, Jimmie-wimmie and Jenny-penny would not +be able to get in. So she retraced her steps, accomplished her purpose, +slipped back to bed, and slept until she was roused in the morning by a +shrill cry from Bernadine—"See, mummy! see, mummy! lazy Beth is in bed +with all her clothes on!"</p> + +<p>Beth sat up, and slapped Bernadine promptly; whereupon Mrs. Caldwell +slapped Beth.</p> + +<p>"Such is life," said Beth, in imitation of Aunt Grace Mary; and Mrs. +Caldwell smiled in spite of herself.</p> + +<p>Later in the day Beth complained to Mildred of a bad cold in her head.</p> + +<p>"Oh dear!" Mildred exclaimed, "I expect Uncle James will talk at that +cold as long as it lasts."</p> + +<p>"I know," Beth said. "Grace Mary, dear—or Aunt Victoria—have you +observed that children always have colds and never have +pocket-handkerchiefs?"</p> + +<p>Uncle James, however, had a bad cold himself that morning, and described +himself as very much indisposed.</p> + +<p>"I went out of doors last night before retiring," he explained at +luncheon, "tempted by the glorious moonlight and the balmy air; but +before I returned the night had changed and become chilly, and +unfortunately the side-door had shut itself, and every one was in bed, +so I could not get in. I threw pebbles up at Grace Mary's window, but +failed to rouse her, she being somewhat deaf. I also knocked and rang, +but no one answered, so I was obliged to shelter in the barn. Harriet, +however, appeared + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> + finally. She—er—gets the men's breakfasts, +and—er—the kitchen-window—" But here Uncle James was seized with a +sudden fit of sneezing, and the connection between the men's breakfasts +and the kitchen-window was never explained. "She is an extremely good +girl, is Harriet," he proceeded as soon as he could speak; "up at four +o'clock every morning."</p> + +<p>"I wish to goodness <i>my</i> trollop was," said Lady Benyon. "She gets later +every day. Where did you go last night?"</p> + +<p>"Oh—I had been loitering among the tombs, so to speak," he answered +largely.</p> + +<p>Beth was eating cold beef stolidly, but without much appetite because of +her cold, and also because there was hot chicken, and Uncle James had +not given her her choice. Uncle James kept looking at her. He found it +hard to let her alone, but she gave him no cause of offence for some +time. Her little nose was troublesome, however, and at last she sniffed. +Uncle James looked at Lady Benyon.</p> + +<p>"Have you observed," he said, "that when a child has a cold she never +has a pocket-handkerchief?"</p> + +<p>Beth produced a clean one with a flourish, and burst out laughing.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter, Puck?" Lady Benyon asked, beaming already in +anticipation.</p> + +<p>"Oh, nothing. Only I said Uncle James would say that if I sniffed. +Didn't I, Mildred?"</p> + +<p>But Mildred, too wary to support her, looked down demurely.</p> + +<p>"Puck," said Lady Benyon, "you're a character."</p> + +<p>"There are good characters and there are bad characters," Uncle James +moralised.</p> + +<p>"Arrah, thin, it isn't a bad character you'd be afther givin' your own +niece," Beth blarneyed; and then she turned up her naughty eyes to the +ceiling and chanted softly: "What will Jimmie-wimmie give his +duckie-dearie to be good? A nice—sweet—kiss!"</p> + +<p>Uncle James's big white face became suddenly empurpled.</p> + +<p>"Gracious! he's swallowed wrong," Lady Benyon exclaimed in alarm. "Drink +something. You really should be careful, a great fat man like you."</p> + +<p>Uncle James coughed hard behind his handkerchief, then began to recover +himself. Beth's eyes were fixed on his face. Her chaunt had been a +sudden inspiration, and its effect upon the huge man had somewhat +startled her; but clearly Uncle James was afraid she was going to tell.</p> + +<p>"How funny!" she ejaculated.</p> + +<p>Uncle James gasped again.</p> + +<p>"What <i>is</i> the matter, Puck?" Lady Benyon asked. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, I was just thinking—thinking I would ask Uncle James to give +Mildred some chicken."</p> + +<p>"Why, of course, my dear child!" Uncle James exclaimed, to everybody's +astonishment. "And have some yourself, Beth?"</p> + +<p>"No, thank you," Beth answered. "I'm full."</p> + +<p>"Beth!" her mother was beginning, when she perceived that Uncle James +was laughing.</p> + +<p>"Now, that child is really amusing," he said—"<i>really</i> amusing."</p> + +<p>No one else thought this last enormity a happy specimen of her wit, and +they looked at Uncle James, who continued to laugh, in amazement.</p> + +<p>"Beth," he said, "when luncheon is over I shall give you a +picture-book."</p> + +<p>Beth accordingly had to stay behind with him after the others had left +the dining-room.</p> + +<p>"Beth," he began in a terrible voice, as soon as they were alone +together, trying to frighten her; "Beth, what were you doing last +night?"</p> + +<p>"I was meditating among the tombs," she answered glibly; "but I never +heard them called by that name before."</p> + +<p>"You bad child, I shall tell your mamma."</p> + +<p>"Oh for shame!" said Beth. "Tell-tale! And if you tell I shall. I saw +you kissing Jenny-penny."</p> + +<p>Uncle James collapsed. He had been prepared to explain to Beth that he +had met the poor girl with some rustic lover, and was lecturing her +kindly for her good, and making her go in, which would have made a +plausible story had it not been for that accursed kissing. Of course he +could insist that Beth was lying; the child was known to be imaginative; +but then against that was the emotion he had shown. Lady Benyon had no +very high opinion of him, he knew, and once she obtained a clue she +would soon unravel the truth. No, the only thing was to silence Beth.</p> + +<p>"Beth," he said, "I quite agree with you, my dear child. I was only +joking when I said I would tell your mamma. Nothing would induce me to +tell tales out of school."</p> + +<p>Beth smiled up at him frankly: "Nor me neither. I don't believe you're +such a bad old boy after all."</p> + +<p>Uncle James winced. How he would have liked to throttle her! He +controlled himself, however, and even managed to make a smile as he got +up to leave the room.</p> + +<p>"I say, though," Beth exclaimed, seeing him about to depart, "where's +that picture-book?"</p> + +<p>"Oh!" he ejaculated. "I had forgotten. But no, Beth, it + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> would never do. +If I give it to you now, it would look like a bribe; and I'm sure you +would never accept a bribe."</p> + +<p>"I should think not," said Beth.</p> + +<p>And it was long years before she understood the mean adroitness of this +last evasion.</p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">There</span> + are those who maintain that a man can do everything better than a +woman can do it. This is certainly true of nagging. When a man nags, he +shows his thoroughness, his continuity, and that love of sport which is +the special pride and attribute of his sex. When a man nags, he puts his +whole heart into the effort; a woman only nags, as a rule, because the +heart has been taken out of her. The nagging woman is an over-tasked +creature with jarred nerves, whose plaint is an expression of pain, a +cry for help; in any interval of ease which lasts long enough to relax +the tension, she feels remorse, and becomes amiably anxious to atone. +With the male nag it is different. He is usually sleek and smiling, a +joyous creature, fond of good living, whose self-satisfaction bubbles +over in artistic attempts to make everybody else uncomfortable. This was +the kind of creature Uncle James Patten was. He loved to shock and jar +and startle people, especially if they were powerless to retaliate. Of +two ways of saying a thing he invariably chose the more disagreeable; +and when he had bad news to break, it added to his interest in it if the +victim felt it deeply and showed signs of suffering.</p> + +<p>One morning at breakfast it might have been suspected that there was +something unpleasant toward. Uncle James had read prayers with such +happy unction, and showed such pleased importance as he took his seat.</p> + +<p>"Aunt Victoria," he lisped, "I have just observed in yesterday's paper +that money matters are in a bad way. There has been a crisis in the +city, and your investments have sunk so low that your income will be +practically nil."</p> + +<p>"What!" said Aunt Victoria incredulously, "the shares you advised me to +buy?"</p> + +<p>"Those are the ones, yes," he answered.</p> + +<p>"But, then—I fear you have lost money too," she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Oh no, thank you," he assured her, in a tone which implied reproach, +"<i>I</i> never speculate."</p> + +<p>"James Patten," said Aunt Victoria quietly, "am I to understand that you +advised me to buy stock in which you yourself did not venture to +speculate?"</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> +"Well—er—you see," he answered with composure, "as speculation was +against my principles, I could not take advantage of the opportunity +myself, but that seemed to me no reason why you should not try to double +your income. It may have been an error of judgment on my part; I am far +from infallible—far from infallible. But I think I may claim to be +disinterested. I did not hope to benefit myself——"</p> + +<p>"During my lifetime," Aunt Victoria suggested, in the same tone of quiet +self-restraint. "I see. My modest fortune would not have been much in +itself to a man of your means; but it would have been a considerable sum +if doubled."</p> + +<p>"Yes, doubles or quits, doubles or quits," said Uncle James, beaming on +Aunt Victoria as if he were saying something reassuring. "Alas! the +family failing!"</p> + +<p>"It is a new departure, however, for the family—to gamble at other +people's expense," said Aunt Victoria.</p> + +<p>"Alas! poor human nature," Uncle James philosophised, shaking his head. +"You never know—you never know."</p> + +<p>Aunt Victoria looked him straight in the eyes, but made no further show +of emotion, except that she sat more rigidly upright than usual perhaps, +and the rose-tint faded from her delicate face, leaving it waxen-white +beneath her auburn front.</p> + +<p>Uncle James ate an egg, with a pious air of thankfulness for the mercies +vouchsafed him.</p> + +<p>"And where will you live now, Aunt Victoria?" he asked at last, with an +affectation of as much concern as he could get into his fat voice. For +many years he had insisted that Fairholm was the proper place for his +mother's sister, but then she had had money to leave. "Do not desert us +altogether," he pursued. "You must come and see us as often as your +altered circumstances will admit."</p> + +<p>Great-Aunt Victoria Bench bowed expressively. Aunt Grace Mary grew very +red in the face. Mrs. Caldwell seemed to be controlling herself with +difficulty.</p> + +<p>"There will be a spare room in my cottage, Aunt Victoria," she said. "I +hope you will consider it your own, and make your home with me."</p> + +<p>"Thank you kindly, Caroline," the old lady answered; "but I must +consider."</p> + +<p>"It would be a most proper arrangement," Uncle James genially decided; +"and you would have our dear little Beth, of whom you approve, you know, +for an interest in life."</p> + +<p>Beth left her seat impulsively, and, going round to the old lady, +nestled up to her, slipped her little hand through her arm, and glared +at Uncle James defiantly.</p> + +<p>The old lady's face quivered for a moment, and she patted the child's +hand. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></p> + +<p>But no more was said on the subject in Beth's hearing; only, later, she +found that Aunt Victoria was going to live with them.</p> + +<p>Uncle James had suddenly become quite anxious that Mrs. Caldwell should +be settled in her own little house; he said it would be so much more +comfortable for her. The little house was Aunt Grace Mary's property, by +the way—rent, ten pounds a year; but as it had not been let for a long +time, and it did houses no good to stand empty, Uncle James had +graciously lent it to his sister. When she was so settled in it that it +would be a great inconvenience to move, he asked for the rent.</p> + +<p>During the next week he drove every day to the station in Aunt Grace +Mary's pony-carriage, to see if Mrs. Caldwell's furniture had arrived +from Ireland; and when at last it came, he sent every available servant +he had to set the house in order, so that it might be ready for +immediate occupation. He also persuaded Harriet Elvidge, his invaluable +kitchen-maid, to enter Mrs. Caldwell's service as maid-of-all-work. +There is reason to believe that this arrangement was the outcome of +Uncle James's peculiar sense of humour; but Mrs. Caldwell never +suspected it.</p> + +<p>"It will be nice for you to have some one I know all about," Uncle James +insisted, "and with a knowledge of cooking besides. And how glad you +will be to sleep under your own roof to-night!" he added in a tone of +kindly congratulation.</p> + +<p>"And how glad you will be to get rid of us," said Beth, thus early +giving voice to what other people were only daring to think.</p> + +<p>As soon as they were settled in the little bow-windowed house, it became +obvious that there would be differences of opinion between mamma and +Great-Aunt Victoria Bench. They differed about the cooking, about +religion, and about the education of children. Aunt Victoria thought +that if you cooked meat a second time it took all the goodness out of +it. Mrs. Caldwell liked stews, and she said if the joints were +under-done at first, as they should be, re-cooking did <i>not</i> take the +goodness out of the meat; but Aunt Victoria abominated under-done joints +more than anything.</p> + +<p>The education of the children was a more serious matter, however—a +matter of principle, in fact, as opposed to a matter of taste. Mrs. +Caldwell had determined to give her boys a good start in life. In order +to do this on her very limited income, she was obliged to exercise the +utmost self-denial, and even with that, there would be little or nothing +left to spend on the girls. This, however, did not seem to Mrs. Caldwell +to be a matter of much importance. It is customary to sacrifice the +girls of a family to the boys; to give them no educational advantages, +and then to jeer at them for their ignorance and silliness. Mrs. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> +Caldwell's own education had been of the most desultory character, but +such as it was, she was content with it. "The method has answered in my +case," she complacently maintained, without the slightest suspicion that +the assertion proved nothing but extreme self-satisfaction. Accordingly, +as she could not afford to send her daughters to school as well as the +boys, she decided to educate them herself. Everybody who could read, +write, and cipher was supposed to be able to teach in those days, and +Mrs. Caldwell undertook the task without a doubt of her own capacity. +But Aunt Victoria was not so sanguine.</p> + +<p>"I hope religious instruction will be a part of their education," she +said, when the subject was first discussed.</p> + +<p>"They shall read the Bible from beginning to end," Mrs. Caldwell +answered shortly.</p> + +<p>"That, I should think, would be hardly desirable," Aunt Victoria +deprecated gently.</p> + +<p>"And I shall teach them their Catechism, and take them to church," Mrs. +Caldwell proceeded. "That is the way in which <i>I</i> was taught."</p> + +<p>"<i>We</i> were instructed in doctrine, and taught to order our conduct on +certain fixed principles, which were explained to us," Aunt Victoria +ventured.</p> + +<p>"Indeed, yes, I dare say," Mrs. Caldwell observed politely; so there the +subject had to drop.</p> + +<p>But Aunt Victoria was far from satisfied. She shook her head sadly over +her niece's spiritual state, and determined to save the souls of her +great-nieces by instructing them herself as occasion should offer.</p> + +<p>"What is education, mamma?" Beth asked.</p> + +<p>"Why, learning things, of course," Mrs. Caldwell replied, with a smile +at the child's simplicity.</p> + +<p>"I know that," Beth snapped, irritated by her mother's manner.</p> + +<p>"Then why did you ask?" Mrs. Caldwell wished to know.</p> + +<p>"The child has probably heard that that is not all," said Aunt Victoria. +"'Learning things' is but one item of education—if you mean by that the +mere acquisition of knowledge. A well-ordered day, for instance, is an +essential part of education. Education is a question of discipline, of +regular hours for everything, from the getting up in the morning to the +going to bed at night. No mind can be properly developed without +routine. Teach a child how to order its time, and its talents will do +the rest."</p> + +<p>"Get out your books, children," said Mrs. Caldwell, and Aunt Victoria +hurriedly withdrew.</p> + +<p>Beth put a large Bible, Colenso's arithmetic, a French + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span>grammar, and +Pinnock (an old-fashioned compilation of questions and answers), on the +table, and looked at them despondently. Then she took a slate, set +herself the easiest addition sum she could find in Colenso, and did it +wrong. Her mother told her to correct it.</p> + +<p>"I wish you would show me how, mamma," Beth pleaded.</p> + +<p>"You must find out for yourself," her mother answered.</p> + +<p>This was her favourite formula. She had no idea of making the lessons +either easy or interesting to the children. Teaching was a duty she +detested, a time of trial both to herself and to her pupils, to be got +over as soon as possible. The whole proceeding only occupied two or +three dreadful hours of the morning, and then the children were free for +the rest of the day, and so was she.</p> + +<p>After lessons they all went out together to the north cliffs, where Aunt +Victoria and Mrs. Caldwell walked to and fro on a sheltered terrace, +while the children played on the sands below. It was a still day when +Beth first saw the sands, and the lonely level and the tranquil sea +delighted her. On her left, white cliffs curved round the bay like an +arm; on her right was the grey and solid old stone pile, and behind her +the mellow red brick houses of the little town scrambled up an incline +from the shore irregularly. Silver sparkles brightened the hard smooth +surface of the sand in the sunshine. The tide was coming in, and tiny +waves advanced in irregular curves, and broke with a merry murmur. Joy +got hold of Beth as she gazed about her, feeling the beauty of the +scene. With the infinite charity of childhood, she forgave her mother +her trespasses against her for that day, and her little soul was filled +with the peace of the newly shriven. She flourished a little wooden +spade that Aunt Victoria had given her, but did not dig. The surface of +the sand was all unbroken; no disfiguring foot of man had trodden the +long expanse, and Beth hesitated to be the first to spoil its exquisite +serenity. Her heart expanded, however, and she shouted aloud in a great, +uncontrollable burst of exultation.</p> + +<p>A man with a brown beard and moustache, short, crisp, curly hair, and +deep-set, glittering dark grey eyes, came up to her from behind. He wore +a blue pilot-coat, blue trousers, and a peaked cap, the dress of a +merchant-skipper.</p> + +<p>"Don't desecrate this heavenly solitude with discordant cries," he +exclaimed.</p> + +<p>Beth had not heard him approach, and she turned round, startled, when he +spoke.</p> + +<p>"I thought I was singing!" she rejoined.</p> + +<p>"Don't dig and disfigure the beautiful bare brown bosom of the shore," +he pursued.</p> + +<p>"I did not mean to dig," Beth said, looking up in his face; + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> and then +looking round about her in perfect comprehension of his mood—"The +beautiful bare brown bosom of the shore," she slowly repeated, +delighting in the phrase. "It's the kind of thing you can sing, you +know."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the man, suddenly smiling; "it is pure poetry, and I make +you a present of the copyright."</p> + +<p>"But," Beth objected, "the shore is <i>not</i> brown. I've been thinking and +thinking what to call it. It's the colour—the colour of—the colour of +tarnished silver," she burst out at last triumphantly.</p> + +<p>"Well observed," he said.</p> + +<p>"Then I make you a present of the copyright," Beth answered readily.</p> + +<p>"Thank you," he said; "but it will not scan."</p> + +<p>"What is scan?"</p> + +<p>"It won't fit into the verse, you know."</p> + +<p>"The beautiful bare colour-of-tarnished-silver bosom of the shore," she +sang out glibly; then agreed, with a wise shake of her head, that the +phrase was impossible; and recurred to another point of interest, as was +her wont—"What is copyright?"</p> + +<p>Before he could answer, however, Mrs. Caldwell had swooped down upon +them. She had seen him from the cliff talking to Beth, and hastened down +the steps in her hot-tempered way, determined to rebuke the man for his +familiarity, and heedless of Aunt Victoria, who had made an effort to +stop her.</p> + +<p>"May I ask why you are interfering with my child, sir?" she demanded.</p> + +<p>The man in the sailor-suit raised his hat and bowed low.</p> + +<p>"Excuse me, madam," he said. "I could not possibly have supposed that +she was your child."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell coloured angrily as at an insult, although the words +seemed innocent enough. When he had spoken, he turned to Beth, with his +hat still in his hand, and added—"Good-bye, little lady. We must meet +again, you and I—on the beautiful bare brown bosom of the shore."</p> + +<p>Beth's sympathy shone out in a smile, and she waved her hand confidingly +to him as he turned away. Mrs. Caldwell seized her arm and hurried her +up the steps to Aunt Victoria, who stood on the edge of the cliff +blinking calmly.</p> + +<p>"Imagine Beth scraping acquaintance with such a common-looking person!" +Mrs. Caldwell cried. "You must never speak to him or look at him +again—do you hear? I wonder what taste you will develop next!"</p> + +<p>"It is a pity that you are so impetuous, Caroline," Aunt Victoria +observed quietly. "That gentleman is the Count + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> Gustav Bartahlinsky, who +may perhaps be considered eccentric here, where noblemen of great +attainments and wealth are certainly not numerous; but is hardly to be +called common-looking."</p> + +<p>Beth saw her mother's countenance drop.</p> + +<p>"Then I <i>may</i> speak to him," she decided for herself. "What's a +copyright, mamma?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't bother, Beth!" Mrs. Caldwell exclaimed irritably.</p> + +<p>When they went home, Bernadine clamoured for food, and her mother gave +her a piece of bread. They were to have dinner at four o'clock, but no +luncheon, for economy's sake. Beth was hungry too, but she would not +confess it. What she had heard of their poverty had made a deep +impression on her, and she was determined to eat as little as possible. +Aunt Victoria glanced at Bernadine and the bread as she went up to her +room, and Beth fancied she heard her sigh. Was the old lady hungry too, +she wondered, and her little heart sank.</p> + +<p>This was Beth's first exercise in self-denial, but she had plenty of +practice, for the scene was repeated day after day.</p> + +<p>The children being free, had to amuse themselves as best they could, and +went out to play in the little garden at the back of the house. Mrs. +Caldwell's own freedom was merely freedom for thought. Most of the day +she spent beside the dining-room table, making and mending, her only +distraction being an occasional glance through the window at the boughs +of the apple-trees which showed above the wall opposite, or at the +people passing. Even when teaching the children she made, mended, and +pursued her own thoughts, mapping out careers for her boys, making +brilliant matches for Mildred and Bernadine, and even building a castle +for Beth now and then. She made and mended as badly as might be expected +of a woman whose proud boast it was that when she was married she could +not hem a pocket-handkerchief; and she did it all herself. She had no +notion of utilising the motive-power at hand in the children. As her own +energy had been wasted in her childhood, so she wasted theirs, letting +it expend itself to no purpose instead of teaching them to apply it. She +was essentially a creature of habit. All that she had been taught in her +youth, she taught them; but any accomplishment she had acquired in later +life, she seemed to think that they also should wait to acquire. She had +always dressed for dinner; so now, at half-past three every day, she put +away her work, went into the kitchen for some hot water, which she +carried upstairs herself, called the children, and proceeded to brush +her own hair carefully, and change her dress. She expected the children +to follow her example, but did not pay much attention + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span>to their +proceedings, and they, childlike, constantly and consistently shirked as +much of the ceremony as possible. If their mother caught them with +unwashed hands and half-brushed hair, she thumped them on the back, and +made them wash and brush; but she was generally thinking about something +else, and did not catch them. The rite, however, being regularly +although imperfectly performed, resulted in a good habit.</p> + +<p>There was another thing too for which Beth had good reason to be +grateful to her mother. During winter, when the days were short, or when +bad weather made it impossible to go out on summer evenings, Mrs. +Caldwell always read aloud to the children after tea till bed-time. Most +mothers would have made the children read; but there was a great deal of +laxity mixed with Mrs. Caldwell's harshness. She found it easier to do +things herself than to make the children do them for her. They objected +to read, and liked to be read to, so she read to them; and as, +fortunately, she had no money to buy children's books, she read what +there were in the house. Beth's ear was still quicker than her eye, and +she would not read to herself if she could help it; but before she was +fourteen, thanks to her mother, she knew much of Scott, Jane Austen, +Dickens, Thackeray, Bulwer Lytton, and even some of Shakespeare, well; +besides such books as "The Woman in White," "The Dead Secret," "Loyal +Heart; or, The Trappers," "The Scalp Hunters," and many more, all of +which helped greatly to develop her intelligence.</p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">During</span> + the next two years, Beth continued to look on at life, with eyes +wide open, deeply interested. Her mind at this time, acting without +conscious effort, was a mere photographic apparatus for the registration +of impressions on the brain. Every incident stored and docketed itself +somewhere in her consciousness for future use, and it was upon this +hoard that she drew eventually with such astonishing effect.</p> + +<p>Rousseau in "Emile" chose a common capacity to educate, because, he +said, genius will educate itself; but even genius would find its labours +lightened by having been taught the use of some few tools, such as are +supplied by the rudiments of a conventional education. Beth was never +taught anything thoroughly; very few girls were in her day. A woman was +expected at that time to earn her livelihood by marrying a man and +bringing up a family; and, so long as her face was attractive, the fact +that she was ignorant, foolish, and trivial did not, in the estimation +of the average man, at all disqualify her for the task. Beth's +education, + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> + at this most impressionable period of her life, consisted in +the acquisition of a few facts which were not made to interest her, and +neither influenced her conduct nor helped to form her character. She +might learn in the morning, for instance, that William the Conqueror +arrived 1066, but the information did not prevent her being as naughty +as possible in the afternoon. One cannot help speculating on how much +she lost or gained by the haphazard of her early training; but one thing +is certain, had the development of her genius depended upon a careful +acquisition of such knowledge as is to be had at school, it must have +remained latent for ever.</p> + +<p>As it was, however, being forced out into the life-school of the world, +she there matriculated on her own account, and so, perhaps, saved her +further faculty from destruction. For theoretical knowledge would have +dulled the keenness of her insight probably, confused her point of view, +and brought in accepted commonplaces to spoil the originality of her +conclusions. It was from practical experience of life rather than from +books that she learnt her work; she saw for herself before she came +under the influence of other people's observations; and this was +doubtless the secret of her success; but it involved the cruel necessity +of a hard and strange apprenticeship. From the time of their arrival in +Rainharbour she lived three lives a day—the life of lessons and +coercion which was forced upon her, an altogether artificial and +unsatisfactory life; the life she took up the moment she was free to act +for herself; and a life of endless dreams, which mingled with the other +two unwholesomely. For the rich soil of her mind, left uncultivated, was +bound to bring forth something, and because there was so little seed +sown in it, the crop was mostly weeds.</p> + +<p>When we review the march of events which come crowding into a life, +seeing how few it is possible to describe, no one can wonder that there +is talk of the difficulty of selection. Who, for instance, could have +supposed that a good striped jacket Jim had outgrown, and Mrs. +Caldwell's love of grey, would have had much effect upon Beth's career? +And yet these trifles were epoch-making. Mrs. Caldwell thought grey a +ladylike colour, and therefore bought Beth a carmelite dress of a +delicate shade for the summer. For the first few weeks the dress was a +joy to Beth, but after that it began to be stained by one thing and +another, and every spot upon it was a source of misery, not only because +she was punished for messing the dress, but also because she had messed +it; for she was beginning to be fastidious about her clothes; and every +time she went out she was conscious of those unsightly stains, and +fancied everybody was looking at them. She had to wear the frock, +however, for want of another; and in the autumn, when + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> the days began to +be chilly, a cast-off jacket of Jim's was added to the affliction. Mrs. +Caldwell caught her trying it on one day, and after shaking her for +doing so, she noticed that the jacket fitted her, and the bright idea of +making Beth wear it out, so that it might not be wasted, occurred to +her. To do her justice, Mrs. Caldwell had no idea of the torture she was +inflicting upon Beth by forcing her to appear in her soiled frock and a +boy's jacket. The poor lady was in great straits at the time, and had +nothing to spend on her daughters, because her sons were growing up, and +beginning to clamour for pocket-money. Their mother considered it right +that they should have it too; and so the tender, delicate, sensitive +little girl had to go dirty and ashamed in order that her brothers might +have the wherewithal to swing a cane, smoke, drink beer, play billiards, +and do all else that makes boys men in their own estimation at an early +age.</p> + +<p>Rainharbour was little more than a fishing village in those days, though +it became a fashionable watering-place in a very few years. When Mrs. +Caldwell first settled there, a whole codfish was sold for sixpence, +fowls were one-and-ninepence a pair, eggs were almost given away, and +the manners of the people were in keeping with the low prices. The +natives had no idea of concealing their feelings, and were in the habit +of expressing their opinions of each other and things in general at the +top of their voices in the open street. They were as conservative as the +Chinese too, and thought anything new and strange ridiculous. +Consequently, when a little girl appeared amongst them in a boy's +jacket, they let her know that they resented the innovation.</p> + +<p>"She's getten a lad's jacket on! oh! oh! she's getten a lad's jacket +on!" the children called aloud after her in the street, while their +mothers came to the cottage-doors, wiping soap-suds from their arms, and +stood staring as at a show; and even the big bland sailors lounging on +the quay expanded into broad grins or solemnly winked at one another. +Beth flushed with shame, but her courageous little heart was instantly +full of fight. "What ignorant people these are!" she exclaimed +haughtily, turning to Bernadine, who had dropped behind out of the +obloquy. "What ignorant people these are! they know nothing of the +fashions." The insinuation stung her persecutors, but that only made +them the more offensive, and wherever she went she was jeered at—openly +if there were no grown-up person with her, covertly if there were, but +always so that she understood. After that first explosion she used to +march along with an air of calm indifference as if she heard nothing, +but she had to put great constraint upon herself in order to seem +superior while feeling deeply humiliated; and all the time she suffered +so acutely that at last she could hardly be induced to go out at all. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell, who never noticed the "common people" enough to be aware +of their criticism, would not listen to anything Beth had to say on the +subject, and considered that her objection to go out in the jacket was +merely another instance of her tiresome obstinacy. Punishments ensued, +and Beth had the daily choice whether she should be scolded and beaten +for refusing to go out, or be publicly jeered at for wearing a "lad's +jacket."</p> + +<p>Sometimes she preferred the chance of public derision to the certainty +of private chastisement; but oftener she took the chastisement. This +state of things could not last much longer, however. Hitherto her mother +had ruled her by physical force, but now their wills were coming into +collision, and it was inevitable that the more determined should carry +her point.</p> + +<p>"Go and put your things on directly, you naughty, obstinate child," her +mother screamed at her one day. Beth did not move.</p> + +<p>"Do you hear me?" Mrs. Caldwell exclaimed.</p> + +<p>Beth made no sign. And suddenly Mrs. Caldwell realised that if Beth +would not go out, she could not make her. She never thought of trying to +persuade her. All that occurred to her was that Beth was too big to be +carried or pulled or pushed; that she might be hurt, but could not be +frightened; and that there was nothing for it, therefore, but to let her +have her own way.</p> + +<p>"Very well, then," said Mrs. Caldwell, "I shall go without you. But +you'll be punished for your wickedness some day, you'll see, and then +you'll be sorry."</p> + +<p>Mildred had gone to be educated by a rich sister of her father's by this +time, Aunt Victoria and Bernadine usually went out with Mrs. Caldwell, +so it came to pass that Beth began to be left pretty much to her own +resources, of which Harriet Elvidge in the kitchen was one, and a +considerable one.</p> + +<p>Harriet was a woman of well-marked individuality and brilliant +imagination. She could never separate fact from fiction in any form of +narrative, and narrative was her speciality. She was always recounting +something. Beth used to follow her from room to room, as she went about +her work, listening with absolute faith and the deepest interest to the +stream of narrative which flowed on without interruption, no matter what +Harriet was doing. Sometimes, when she was dusting the drawing-room +mantelpiece, she would pause with a china cup in one hand and her duster +in the other, to emphasise a thrilling incident, or make a speech +impressive with suitable gesticulation; and sometimes, for the same +purpose, she would stop with her hand on the yellowstone with which she +was rubbing the kitchen-hearth, and her head in the grate almost. Often, +too, Beth in her + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> + eager sympathy would say, "Let me do that!" and +Harriet would sit in an arm-chair if they were in the drawing-room, and +resign the duster—or the dishcloth, if they were in the kitchen—and +continue the recital, while Beth showed her appreciation, and encouraged +her to proceed, by doing the greater part of her work for her. Mrs. +Caldwell never could make out why Beth's hands were in such a state. +"They are all cracked and begrimed," she would exclaim, "as if the child +had to do dirty work like a servant!" And it was a good thing for Beth +that she did it, for otherwise she would have had no physical training +at all, and would have suffered as her sister Mildred did for want of +it. Mildred, unlike Beth, held her head high, and never forgot that she +was a young lady by right of descent, with an hereditary aptitude for +keeping her inferiors in their proper place. She only went into the +kitchen of necessity, and would never have dreamed of dusting, sweeping, +bed-making, or laying the table, to help the servant, however much she +might have been over-tasked; neither would Harriet have dared to +approach her with the familiar pleading: "I say, miss, 'elp uz, I'm that +done," to which Beth so readily responded. Mildred was studious; she had +profited by the good teaching she had had while her father was alive, +and was able to "make things out" for herself; but she cultivated her +mind at the expense of her body. She was one of those delicate, nervous, +sensitive girls, whose busy brains require the rest of regular manual +exercise; and for want of it, she lived upon books, and very literally +died of them eventually. She was naturally, so to speak, an artificial +product of conventional ideas; Beth, on the contrary, was altogether a +little human being, but one of those who answer to expectation with +fatal versatility. She liked blacking grates, and did them well, because +Harriet told her she could; she hated writing copies, and did them +disgracefully, because her mother beat her for a blot, and said she +would never improve. For the same reason, long before she could read +aloud to her mother intelligibly, she had learnt all that Harriet could +teach her, not only of the house-work, but of the cooking, from cleaning +a fish and trussing a fowl to making barley-broth and puff-pastry. +Harriet was a good cook if she had the things, as she said herself, +having picked up a great deal when she was kitchen-maid in Uncle James's +household.</p> + +<p>Harriet was the daughter of a labourer. Her people lived at a village +some miles away, and every Saturday morning a carrier with a covered +cart brought her a letter from home, and a little parcel containing a +cheesecake or some other dainty. Beth took a lively interest both in the +cheesecake and the letter. "What's the news from home to-day?" she would +ask. "How's Annie, + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> + and what has mother sent?" Whereupon Harriet would +share the cheesecake with her, and read the letter aloud, work being +suspended as long as possible for the purpose.</p> + +<p>Harriet was about twenty-five at this time. She had very black silky +hair, straight and heavy, parted in the middle, drawn down over her +ears, and gathered up in a knot behind. Her face was oval, forehead +high, eyebrows arched and delicate, nose straight, and she had large +expressive dark grey eyes, rather deeply set, with long black lashes, +and a mouth that would have been handsome of the sensual full-lipped +kind, had it not been distorted by a burn, which had disfigured her +throat and chin as well. She had set her pinafore on fire when she was a +child, and it had blazed up under her chin, causing irreparable injury +before the flames could be extinguished. But for that accident she would +have been a singularly good-looking woman of a type which was common in +books of beauty at the beginning of this reign.</p> + +<p>She could read and write after a fashion, and was intelligent, but +ignorant, deceitful, superstitious, and hysterical. Mrs. Caldwell +continually lectured Beth about going into the kitchen so much; but she +only lectured on principle really. Young ladies could not be allowed to +associate with servants as a rule, but an exception might be made in the +case of a good, steady, sober sort of person, such as Mrs. Caldwell +believed Harriet to be, who would keep the troublesome child out of +mischief, and do her no harm. Harriet, as it happened, delighted in +mischief, and was often the instigator; but Mrs. Caldwell might be +excused for not suspecting this, as she only saw her on her best +behaviour. When the children were safe in bed, and Miss Victoria Bench, +who was an early person, had also retired, Harriet would put on a clean +apron, and appear before Mrs. Caldwell in the character of a +respectable, vigilant domestic, more anxious about her mistress's +interests than her own; and she would then make a report in which Beth +figured as a fiend of a child who could not be trusted alone for a +moment, and Harriet herself as a conscientious custodian, but for whom +nobody knows what might have happened.</p> + +<p>When Harriet had no particular incident to report at these secret +conferences, she would tell Mrs. Caldwell her dreams, and describe signs +and portents of coming events which she had observed during the day; and +Mrs. Caldwell would listen with interest. Superstition is a subject on +which the most class-proud will consult with the lowest and the +wickedest; it is a mighty leveller downwards. But the poor lady had a +lonely life. It was not Mrs. Caldwell's fault, but the fault of her day, +that she was not a noble woman. She belonged to early Victorian times, +when every effort was made to mould the characters of women as the homes +of the period were built, on lines of ghastly uniformity. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> The education +of a girl in those days was eminently calculated to cloud her +intelligence and strengthen every failing developed in her sex by ages +of suppression. Mrs. Caldwell was a plastic person, and her mind had +been successfully compressed into the accustomed groove until her +husband came and helped it to escape a little in one or two +directions—with the effect, however, of spoiling its conventional +symmetry without restoring its natural beauty. If the mind be +tight-laced long enough, it is ruined as a model, just as the body is; +and throwing off the stays which restrained it, merely exposes its +deformities without remedying them; so that there is nothing for the old +generation but to remain in stays. Mrs. Caldwell, with all her +deformities, was just as heroic as she knew how to be. She lived for her +children to the extent of denying herself the bare necessaries of life +for them; and bore poverty and obscurity of a galling kind without a +murmur. She scarcely ever saw a soul to speak to. Uncle James Patten and +the Benyon family did not associate much with the townspeople, and were +not popular in the county; so that Mrs. Caldwell had very few visitors. +Of course it was an advantage to be known as a relation of the great +people of the place, although the great people had a bad name; but then +she was evidently a poor relation, which made it almost a virtue to +neglect her in a community of Christians who only professed to love the +Lord Himself for what they could get. "You must worship God because He +can give you everything," was what they taught their children. Even the +vicar of the parish would not call on anybody with less than five +hundred a year. He kept a school for boys, which paid him more than +cent. per cent., but did nothing for his parishioners except preach +sermons an hour long on Sundays. Self-denial and morality were his +favourite subjects. He had had three wives himself, and was getting +through a fourth as fast as one baby a year would do it.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell, left to herself, found her evenings especially long and +dreary. It was her habit to write her letters then, and read, +particularly in French and Italian, which, she had some vague notion, +helped to improve her mind. But she often wearied for a word, and began +to hear voices herself in the howling winter winds, and to brood upon +the possible meaning of her own dreams, and to wonder why a solitary +rook flew over her house in particular, and cawed twice as it passed. +Little things naturally become of great importance in such a life, and +Harriet kept up the supply; she being the connecting link between Mrs. +Caldwell and the outer world. She knew all that was happening in the +place, and she claimed to know all that was going to happen; and by +degrees the mistress as well as the maid fell into the way of comparing +events with the forebodings + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> + which had preceded them, and often +established a satisfactory connection between the two.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell always made coffee in the kitchen for breakfast in the +morning, and while she was so engaged, Harriet, busy making toast, would +begin—"Did you 'ear a noise last night, m'em?"</p> + +<p>"No, Harriet—at least—was it about ten o'clock?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, m'em, just about—a sort of scraping rattling noise, like a lot of +people walking over gravel."</p> + +<p>"I did hear something of the kind. I wonder what it was," Mrs. Caldwell +would rejoin.</p> + +<p>"Well, m'em, I think it means there are people coming to the 'ouse, for +I remember it 'appened the night before your brother come, m'em, +unexpected, and the lawyer."</p> + +<p>If nobody came during the day, the token would be supposed to refer to +some future period; and so, by degrees, signs and portents took the +place of more substantial interests in Mrs. Caldwell's dreary life. Such +things were in the air, for the little seaside place was quite out of +the world at the time, and the people still had more faith in an +incantation than a doctor's dose. If an accident happened, or a storm +decimated the fishing-fleet, signs innumerable were always remembered +which had preceded the event. If you asked why nobody had profited by +the warning, people would shake their heads and tell you it was to be; +and if you asked what was the use of the warning then, they would say to +break the blow—in which idea there seemed to be some sense.</p> + +<p>"When they told Tom's wife 'e was drownded, she'd 'a' dropped down dead +'erself and left the children, if she 'adn't 'a' knowed it all along," +Harriet explained to Beth. "Eh! lass, you mark my words, warnin's comes +for one thing, and warnin's comes for another, but they always comes for +good, an' you're forced to take notice an' act on 'em or you're forced +to leave 'em alone, just as is right, an' ye can't 'elp it yerself, +choose 'ow. There's Mrs. Pettinger, she dreamed one night 'er husband's +boat was lost, an' next mornin' 'e was to go out fishin', but she +wouldn't let 'im. 'No, 'Enery John,' she ses, 'you'll not go, not if ah +'as to 'old you,' ses she, an' 'e was that mad 'e struck 'er an' knocked +'er down an' broke 'er arm, an' then, needs must, 'e 'ad to fetch the +doctor to set it, an' by the time that was done, the boat 'ad gone +wi'out 'im. The other men thought 'e was drunk—'e often was—an' they +wouldn't wait. Well, that boat never came back."</p> + +<p>"And did he beat his wife again?" Beth asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, as to that, 'ow could it make any difference?" Harriet answered. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span></p> + +<p>Beth was fascinated by the folk-lore of the place, and soon surpassed +Harriet herself in the interpretation of dreams and the reading of signs +and tokens. She began to invent methods of divination for herself too, +such as, "If the boards don't creak when I walk across the room I shall +get through my lessons without trouble this morning," a trick which soon +became a confirmed habit into which she was apt to lapse at any time; +and so persistent are these early impressions that to the end of her +days she would always rather have seen two rooks together than one +alone, rooks being the birds of omen in a land where magpies were +scarce. Mrs. Caldwell knew nothing of Beth's proficiency in the black +arts. She would never have discussed such a subject before the children, +and took it for granted that Harriet was equally discreet; while Beth on +her part, with her curious quick sense of what was right and proper, +believed her mother to be above such things.</p> + +<p>Harriet was a person of varied interests, all of which she discussed +with Beth impartially. She had many lovers, according to her own +account, and was stern and unyielding with them all, and so particular +that she would dismiss them at any moment for nothing almost. If she +went out at night she had always much to tell the next morning, and Beth +would hurry over her lessons, watch her mother out of the way, and slip +into the kitchen or upstairs after Harriet, and question her about what +she had said, and he had said, and if she had let him kiss her even +once.</p> + +<p>"Well, last night," Harriet said on one occasion, in a tone of apology +for her own weakness and good-nature. "Last night I couldn't 'elp it. 'E +just put 'is arm round me, and, well, there! I was sorry for 'im."</p> + +<p>"Why don't you say <i>he</i> and <i>him</i> and <i>his</i>, Harriet?"</p> + +<p>"I do."</p> + +<p>"No, you don't. You say 'e and 'im and 'is."</p> + +<p>"Well, that's what you say."</p> + +<p>Beth shouted the aspirates at her for answer, but in vain; with all the +will in the world to "talk fine," as she called it, Harriet could never +acquire the art, for want of an ear to hear. She could not perceive the +slightest difference between him and 'im.</p> + +<p>Even at this age Beth had her own point of view in social matters, and +frequently disconcerted Harriet by a word or look or inflection of the +voice which expressed disapproval of her conduct. Harriet had been at +home on one occasion for a week's holiday, a charwoman having done her +work in her absence, and on her return she had much to relate of Charles +Russell, the groom at Fairholm, who continued to be an ardent + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> admirer +of hers, but not an honourable one, because he did not realise what a +very superior person Harriet was. He thought she was no better than +other girls, and when they were sitting up one night together in her +mother's cottage, the rest of the family having gone to bed, he made her +a proposal which Harriet indignantly rejected.</p> + +<p>"And ah <i>ses</i> to 'im, 'Charles <i>Russell</i>,' ah ses to 'im, 'not was it +ever so,' ah ses to 'im"—she was proceeding emphatically when Beth +interrupted her.</p> + +<p>"Did you say you sat up with him alone all night?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes, there's no 'arm, you know," Harriet answered on the defensive, +without precisely knowing why.</p> + +<p>"Well, what did he say?" Beth rejoined without comment.</p> + +<p>But Harriet, put out of countenance, omitted the details, and brought +the story to an abrupt conclusion.</p> + +<p>Another of Harriet's interests in life was the <i>Family Herald</i>, which +she took regularly, and as regularly read aloud to Beth, to the best of +her ability—from the verses to "Violet," or "My own Love," on the first +page, to the "Random Readings" on the last. They laughed at the jokes, +tried to guess the riddles, were impressed with the historical anecdotes +and words of wisdom, and became so hungry over the recipes for good +dishes that they frequently fried eggs and potatoes, or a slice stolen +from the joint roasting at the fire, and feasted surreptitiously.</p> + +<p>Beth tried in after years to remember what the stories in the <i>Family +Herald</i> had been about, but all she could recall was a vague incident of +a falling scaffold, of a heroine called Margaret taking refuge in the +dark behind a hoarding, and of a fascinating hero whom Harriet called Ug +Miller. Long afterwards it dawned upon Beth that his name was Hugh.</p> + +<p>When Mildred went to her aunt, Beth and Bernadine became of necessity +constant companions, and it was a curious kind of companionship, for +their natures were antagonistic. Like rival chieftains whose territories +adjoin, they professed no love for each other, and were often at war, +but were intimate nevertheless, and would have missed each other, +because there was no one else with whom they could so conveniently +quarrel. Harriet took the liveliest interest in their squabbles, which, +under her able direction, rapidly developed from the usual little girls' +scrimmages into regular stand-up fights.</p> + +<p>One day Beth pulled Bernadine's hair passionately, and Bernadine +retaliated by clawing Beth's face, and then howled as a further relief +to her feelings. Mrs. Caldwell rushed to see what accident had happened +to the dear child, and Harriet came to see the sport. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Mamma, Beth pulled my hair," Bernadine whined.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell immediately thumped Beth, who seldom said a word in her +own defence. Harriet was neutral till her mistress had disappeared, and +then she supported Beth.</p> + +<p>"Just you wait till after dinner," she said. "Come into the kitchen when +your ma's asleep, and fight it out. Don't you be put upon by +tell-pie-tits."</p> + +<p>"What's the use of my going into the kitchen?" Beth rejoined; "Bernadine +doesn't fight fair. She's a horrid, low little coward."</p> + +<p>"Am I!" Bernadine howled. "Just you wait till after dinner! I'm as brave +as you are, and as strong, though you <i>are</i> the biggest." Which was +true. Bernadine was sallow, thin, wiry, and muscular; Beth was soft, and +round, and white. She had height, age, and weight on her side; Bernadine +had strength, agility, and cunning.</p> + +<p>"Phew—w—w!" Beth jeered, mimicking her whine. "You'd 'tell mamma' if +you got a scratch."</p> + +<p>"I won't, Beth, if you'll fight," Bernadine protested.</p> + +<p>"We'll see after dinner," Harriet put in significantly, and then +returned to her work.</p> + +<p>After the four o'clock dinner, during the dark winter months, Mrs. +Caldwell dozed for half-an-hour in her chair by the fire. This was the +children's opportunity. They were supposed to sit still and amuse +themselves quietly while their mother slept; and, until she slept, they +would sit motionless, watching her, the greater their anxiety to get +away the more absolute their silence. Mrs. Caldwell looked as if she +were being mesmerised to sleep by the two pairs of bright eyes so +resolutely and patiently fixed upon her. The moment her breathing showed +she was sound asleep, the children stole to the kitchen, shutting the +doors after them softly, and instantly set to work.</p> + +<p>It was a gruesome sight, those two children, with teeth set and clenched +fists, battering each other in deadly earnest, but with no noise save +the fizzle of feet on the brick floor, an occasional thump up against a +piece of furniture, or the thud when they fell. They were afraid to +utter a sound lest Aunt Victoria, up in her room, should hear them, and +come down interfering; or their mother should wake, and come out and +catch them. They bruised and blackened and scratched each other, and +were seldom without what they considered the honourable scars of these +battles. Sometimes, when Bernadine was badly mauled, she lost her +temper, and threatened to tell mamma. But Beth could always punish her, +and did so, by refusing to fight next time, although, without that +recreation, life were a blank.</p> + +<p>Harriet always cleared away obstacles to give them room, and + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> then sat +down to eat her dinner, and watch the fight. She had the tastes, and +some of the habits, of a Roman empress, and encouraged them with the +keenest interest for a long time, but when she had finished her dinner +she usually wearied of the entertainment, and would then stop it.</p> + +<p>"I say, yer <i>ma's</i> comin'! I can 'ear 'er!" she would exclaim. "'Elp us +to wash up, or I shan't be done for the reading."</p> + +<p>When Harriet wanted help, Bernadine usually slipped away, helping +anybody not being much in her line; but Beth set to work with a will.</p> + +<p>Beth, always sociable, had persuaded her mother to let Harriet come to +the reading; and Harriet accordingly, in a clean cap and apron, with a +piece of sewing, was added to the party.</p> + +<p>So long as she sat on a high chair, at a respectful distance, and +remembered that she was a servant, her being there rather gratified Mrs. +Caldwell than otherwise, once she had yielded to Beth's persuasion, and +saw the practical working of the experiment; it made her feel as if she +were doing something to improve the lower classes. It was a pity she did +not try to improve Beth and Bernadine by finding some sewing for their +idle hands to do. During the reading, dear little Bernadine, "so good +and affectionate always," would sit on the floor beside her mother, +whose pocket she often picked of a penny or sixpence to vary the +monotony when she did not understand the book. Beth also sat idle, +listening intently, and watching her sister. If the reading had been +harrowing or exciting, she would fight Bernadine for the sixpence when +they went to bed. There were lively scenes during the readings. They all +wept at the pathetic parts, laughed loudly when amused, and disputed +about passages and incidents at the top of their voices. Mrs. Caldwell +forgot that Harriet was a servant, Harriet forgot herself, and the +children, unaccustomed to wordy warfare, forgot their fear of their +mother, and flew at each other's throats.</p> + +<p>When the story was very interesting, Mrs. Caldwell read until she was +hoarse, and then went on to herself—"dipping," the children called it. +It was a point of honour with them not to dip, and they would +remonstrate with their mother loudly when they caught her at it. Their +feeling on the subject was so strong that she was ashamed to be seen +dipping at last. She used to put the book away until they were safe in +bed, and then gratify her curiosity; but they suspected her, because +once or twice they noticed that she was unaffected by an exciting part; +so one night they came down in their night-dresses and caught her, and +after that the poor lady had to be careful. She might thump the children +for coming downstairs, but she could not alter the low opinion they had +of a person who dipped. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span></p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beth's</span> brain began to be extraordinarily busy. +She recorded nothing, but +her daily doings were so many works of her imagination. She was +generally somebody else in these days, seldom herself; and people who +did not understand this might have supposed that she was an exceedingly +mendacious little girl, when she was merely speaking consistently in the +character which she happened to be impersonating. She would spend hours +of the afternoon alone in the drawing-room, standing in the window +looking out while she wove her fancies; and she soon began to go out +also, by the back-door, when the mood was upon her, without asking +anybody's leave. She had wandered off in this way on one occasion to the +south side, whither her people rarely went. At the top of the cliff, +where the winding road began which led down to the harbour, a paralysed +sailor was sitting in a wickerwork wheeled chair, looking over the sea. +Beth knew the man by sight. He had been a yachtsman in the service of +one of her great-uncles, and she had heard hints of extraordinary +adventures they had had together. It filled her with compassion to see +him sitting there so lonely and helpless, and as she approached she +resolved herself into a beneficent being, able and willing to help. She +had a book under her arm, a costly volume which Mrs. Caldwell had +borrowed to read to the children. Beth had been looking at the pictures +when the desire to go out suddenly seized upon her, and had carried the +book off inadvertently.</p> + +<p>"How are you to-day, Tom?" she said, going up to the invalid +confidently. "I'm glad to see you out. We shall soon have you about +again as well as ever. I knew a man in Ireland much worse than you are. +He couldn't move his hands and arms. Legs are bad enough, but when it's +hands and arms as well, you know, it's worse. Well, now you couldn't +tell there'd ever been anything the matter with him."</p> + +<p>"And what cured 'im?" Tom asked with interest.</p> + +<p>"Oh, he just <i>thought</i> he'd get well, you know. You've got to set +yourself that way, don't you see? If mountains can be moved by faith, +you can surely move your own legs!"</p> + +<p>"That sounds reasonable any way," Tom ejaculated.</p> + +<p>"Do you like reading?" said Beth.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I read a bit at times."</p> + +<p>"Well, I've brought you a book," Beth proceeded, handing him the +borrowed volume. "You'll find it interesting, I'm sure. It's a great +favourite of mine."</p> + +<p>"You're mighty good," the sailor said. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, not at all," Beth answered largely. Then she wished him good-bye. +But she often visited him again in the same character, and the stories +she told that unhappy invalid for his comfort and encouragement were +amazing. When the book was missed, and her mother bothered about it, she +listened serenely, and even helped to look for it.</p> + +<p>Beth strolled homewards when she left her protégé, and on the way she +became Norna of the Fitful Head. She tried Minna and Brenda first, but +these characters were too insipid for her taste. Norna was different. +She did things, you know, and made charms, and talked poetry, and people +were afraid of her. Beth believed in her thoroughly. She'd be Norna, and +make charms. But she had no lead. Norna looked about her. She knew by +magic that Cleveland was coming to consult her, and she had no lead. +There was a border of lead, however, over the attic window outside. All +she had to do was to steal upstairs, climb out of the window on to the +roof, and cut a piece of the lead off. It was now the mystic moment to +obtain lead, but she must be wary. She strolled through the kitchen in a +casual way. Harriet was busy about the grate, and paid no attention to +her; so she secured the carving-knife without difficulty, went up to the +attic, and opened the window. She was now on the dangerous pinnacle of a +temple, risking her life in order to obtain the materials for a charm +which would give her priceless power.</p> + +<p>On the other side of the street, there lived in the Orchard House +another widow-woman with three daughters. She let lodgings, and was +bringing up her children to honest industry in that state of life. She +and Mrs. Caldwell took a kindly interest in each other's affairs. Mrs. +Davy happened to be changing the curtains in front that afternoon when +Beth crept out of the attic window on to the roof, and she was paralysed +with horror for a moment, expecting to see the child roll off into the +street. She was a sensible woman, however, and quickly recovering +herself, she ran across the road, with her spectacles on, and rapped at +Mrs. Caldwell's door. Beth, hacking away at the lead with the +carving-knife, did not heed the rap. Presently, however, she heard +hurried footsteps on the stairs, and climbed back into the attic +incontinently, putting her spoils in her pocket. When Mrs. Davy, her +mother, and Harriet, all agitated, burst open the door, she was standing +at the window looking out tranquilly.</p> + +<p>"What were you doing on the roof, Beth?" her mother demanded.</p> + +<p>"Nothing," Beth answered.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Davy says she saw you get out of the window."</p> + +<p>Beth was silent.</p> + +<p>"You're a bad girl, giving your mother so much trouble," + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> Mrs. Davy +exclaimed, looking at her under her spectacles sternly. "If you was my +child I'd whack you, I would."</p> + +<p>Beth was instantly a lady, sneering at this common woman who was taking +a liberty which she knew her mother would resent as much as she did.</p> + +<p>"And what were you doing with the carving-knife, Miss Beth?" cried +Harriet, spying it on the floor, and picking it up. Criminals are only +clever up to a certain point; Beth had forgotten to conceal the +carving-knife. "Oh dear! oh dear! If you 'aven't 'acked it all the way +along!"</p> + +<p>"Oh dear! oh dear!" Mrs. Caldwell echoed. It was her best carving-knife, +and Beth would certainly have been beaten if Mrs. Davy had not suggested +it. As it was, however, Mrs. Caldwell controlled her temper, and merely +ordered her to go downstairs immediately. In the management of her +children she would not be dictated to by anybody.</p> + +<p>This was Beth's first public appearance as a disturber of the peace, and +the beginning of the bad name she earned for herself in certain circles +eventually. But she was let off lightly for it. Mrs. Caldwell's +punishments were never retrospective. She was thunder and lightning in +her wrath; a flash and then a bang, and it was all over. If she missed +the first movement, the culprit escaped. She could no more have punished +one of her children in cold blood than she could have cut its throat.</p> + +<p>Beth ran down to the acting-room, so called because the boys had brought +home the idea of acting in the holidays, and they had got up charades +there on a stage made of boxes, with an old counterpane for a curtain, +and farthing candles for footlights. It was a long, narrow room over the +kitchen, with a sloping roof. Three steps led down into it. There was a +window at one end, a small lattice with an iron bar nailed to the +outside vertically. Beth swung herself out round the bar, dropped on to +the back-kitchen roof, crept across the tiles to the chimney at the far +corner, stepped thence on to the top of the old wooden pump, and from +the top to the spout, from the spout to the stone trough, and so into +the garden. Then she ran round to the kitchen, and got a candle, a +canister, and some water in a pail, all of which she took up to the +acting-room by way of the back-kitchen roof. The canister happened to +contain allspice, but this was not to be considered when she wanted the +canister, so she emptied it from the roof on to Harriet's head as she +happened to be passing, and so got some good out of it, for Harriet +displayed strong feeling on the subject both at the moment and +afterwards, when she was trying to get the stuff out of her hair; which +interested Beth, who in some such way often surprised people into the +natural expression of emotions which she might never + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> otherwise have +discovered. Bernadine had been playing alone peaceably in the garden, +but Beth persuaded her to come upstairs. She found Beth robed in the old +counterpane, with her hair dishevelled, and the room darkened. Beth was +Norna now in her cell on the Fitful Head, and Bernadine was the +shrinking but resolute Minna come to consult her. Beth made her sit +down, drew a magic circle round her with a piece of chalk, and, in a +deep tragic voice, warned her not to move if she valued her life, for +there were evil spirits in the room. The pail stood on a box draped with +an old black shawl, and round this she also drew a circle. Then she put +some lead in the canister, melted it over the candle, dropped it into +the water, and muttered—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"> "Like snakes the molten metal hisses,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Curses come instead of kisses."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>She plunged her hand into the water—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"> "I search a harp for harmony,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But daggers only do I see;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I search a heart for love and hope,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But find a ghastly hangman's rope.<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Woe! Woe!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Three times round the pail she went, moaning, groaning, writhing her +body, and wringing her hands—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i5">"Woe! Woe!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy courage will be sorely tried,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou shalt not be the pirate's bride."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>At this Bernadine, whose nerves were completely shaken, set up such a +howl that Harriet came running to see what was the matter. She soon let +light into the acting-room. Mrs. Caldwell and Aunt Victoria had gone to +see Aunt Grace Mary, so Harriet was in charge of the children, and to +save herself further trouble, she took them up to a black-hole there was +without a window at the top of the house, and locked them in. The place +was quite empty, so that they could do no harm, and they did not seem to +mind being locked up. Harriet intended to give them a little fright and +then let them out; but, being busy, she forgot them, and when at last +she remembered, it was so dark she had to take a candle; and great was +her horror, on opening the door, to see both children stretched out on +the bare boards side by side, apparently quite dead. One glance at their +ghastly faces was enough for Harriet. She just looked and then fled, +shrieking, with the candle alight in her hand, right out into the +street. Several people who happened to be passing at the time stopped to +see what was the matter. Harriet's talent for fiction furnished + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> her +with a self-saving story on the instant. She said the children had shut +themselves up and got smothered.</p> + +<p>"We'd better go and see if there's nothing can be done," a respectable +workman suggested.</p> + +<p>Harriet led the way, about a dozen people following, all awe-stricken +and silent. When they came to the door, they peeped in over each other's +shoulders at the two poor children, stretched out stiff and stark, the +colour of death, their jaws dropped, their glazed eyes shining between +the half-closed lids, a piteous spectacle.</p> + +<p>"Just let's see the candle a moment," the workman said. He took it from +Harriet, and entered stooping—the place was a mere closet just under +the roof, and he could not stand upright in it. He peered into the +children's faces, then knelt down beside them, and felt their arms and +chests. Suddenly he burst out laughing.</p> + +<p>"You little devils," he said, "what 'a' ye done this for?"</p> + +<p>Beth sat up. "Harriet locked us in to give us a fright, so we thought +we'd frighten Harriet," she said.</p> + +<p>The walls were whitewashed, and the children had made themselves ghastly +by rubbing their faces all over with the whitening.</p> + +<p>"You've getten yer 'ands full wi' them two, I'm thinkin', missis," the +workman remarked to Harriet as he went off chuckling.</p> + +<p>"Did you hear, Beth?" Bernadine complained; "he called us little +devils."</p> + +<p>"All right," Beth answered casually. But Bernadine was disgusted. She +was one of those pious children who like to stand high in the estimation +of the grown-up people; and she disapproved of Beth's conduct when it +got her into trouble. She was like the kind of man who enjoys being +vicious so long as he is not found out by any one who will think the +less of him for it; when he is found out he excuses himself, and blames +his associates. Bernadine never resisted Beth's eloquent persuasions, +nor the luring fascination of her schemes; but when she had had her full +share of the pleasures of naughtiness, and was tired and cross, her +conscience smote her, and then she told mamma. This did her good, and +got Beth punished, which made Bernadine feel that she had expiated her +own naughtiness and been forgiven, and also made her feel sorry for +Beth—a nice kind feeling, which she always enjoyed.</p> + +<p>Beth despised her for her conscientious treachery, and retaliated by +tempting her afresh. One day she lured her out on to the tiles through +an attic window in the roof, at the back of the house. It would be such +fun to sit astride on the roof-ridge, and look right down into the +street, she said, and across Mrs. Davy's orchard to the fields on that +side, and out to sea on the other. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And things will come into our minds up there—such lovely things," she +proceeded, beguiling Bernadine to distract her attention as she helped +her up. When they were securely seated, Bernadine began to grumble.</p> + +<p>"Things don't come into my mind," she whined.</p> + +<p>"Don't they? Why, I was just thinking if we were to fall we should +certainly be killed," Beth answered cheerfully. "We should come down +thump, and that would crack our skulls, and our brains would roll out on +the pavement. Ough! wouldn't they look nasty, just like a sheep's! And +mamma and Aunt Victoria would rush out, and Harriet and Mrs. Davy, and +they'd have to hold mamma up by the arms. Then they'd pick us up, and +carry us in, and lay us out on a bed, and say they were beautiful in +their lives, and in death they were not divided; and when they shut the +house up at night and it was all still, mamma would cry. She'd be always +crying, especially for you, Bernadine, because you're not such a trouble +as I am. And when you were buried, and the worms were eating you, she +would give all the world to have you here again."</p> + +<p>This sad prospect was too much for the sensitive Bernadine. "Don't, +Beth," she whimpered. "You frighten me."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you mustn't be frightened," said Beth encouragingly. "When people +up on a height like this get frightened, they always roll off. Do you +feel as if the roof were moving?" she exclaimed, suddenly clutching +hold.</p> + +<p>Bernadine fell down flat on her face with a dismal howl.</p> + +<p>"Let's be cats now," said Beth. "I'll say miew-ow-ow, and you +oo-oo-owl-hiss-ss-ss."</p> + +<p>"Don't, Beth. I want to go back."</p> + +<p>"Come along then," said Beth.</p> + +<p>"I can't. I daren't move."</p> + +<p>"Oh, nonsense," said Beth; "just follow me. I shall go and leave you if +you don't. You shouldn't have come up if you were afraid."</p> + +<p>"You made me," Bernadine whimpered with her eyes shut.</p> + +<p>"Of course it was me!" said Beth, on her way back to the skylight. "You +haven't a will of your own, I suppose!"</p> + +<p>"You aren't leaving me, Beth!" Bernadine cried in an agony. "Don't go! +I'm frightened! Help me down! I'll tell mamma!"</p> + +<p>"Then there you'll sit, tell-pie-tit," Beth chanted, as she let herself +down through the skylight.</p> + +<p>Presently she appeared on the other side of the street, and performed a +war-dance of delight as she looked up at her sister, prone upon the +roof-ridge.</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> +"You do look so funny, Bernadine," she cried. "Your petticoats are +nohow; and you seem to have only one leg, and it is so long and thin!"</p> + +<p>Bernadine howled aloud. Mrs. Caldwell was not at home; but the cry +brought Mrs. Davy out in her spectacles. When she saw the child's +dangerous predicament, she seized Beth and shook her emphatically.</p> + +<p>"Oh, thank you," said Beth.</p> + +<p>"What 'a' you bin doin' now, you bad girl?" said Mrs. Davy. "Hold on, +missy," she called up to Bernadine. "We'll soon 'ave ye down. You're all +right! You'll not take no 'arm."</p> + +<p>Harriet now came running out, wringing her hands, and uttering +hysterical exclamations.</p> + +<p>"Shut up, you fool," said Mrs. Davy.</p> + +<p>Doors opened all the way down the street, and a considerable crowd had +soon collected. Beth, quite detached from herself, leant against the +orchard-wall and watched the people with interest.</p> + +<p>How to get the child down was the difficulty, as there was no ladder at +hand long enough to reach up to the roof.</p> + +<p>"I'll go and fetch her down if you like," said Beth.</p> + +<p>"I should think so! and then there'd be two of you," said Mrs. Davy.</p> + +<p>"I don't see how you'll manage it then," said Beth. "There isn't +foothold for a man to get out of the attic-window." Having spoken, she +strolled off with an air of indifference, and disappeared. She was a +heroine of romance now, going to do a great deed; and before she was +missed, the horrified spectators saw her climbing out of the front +attic-window smiling serenely. The people held their breath as they +watched her go up the roof on the slippery tiles at a reckless rate to +her sister.</p> + +<p>"Come along, Bernadine," she whispered. "Such fun! There's a whole crowd +down there watching us. Just let them see you're not afraid."</p> + +<p>Bernadine peeped. It was gratifying to be an object of such interest.</p> + +<p>"Come along, don't be an idiot," said Beth. "Just follow me, and don't +look at anything but the tiles. That's the way <i>I</i> learnt to do it."</p> + +<p>Bernadine's courage revived. Slowly she slid from the roof-ridge, Beth +helping her carefully. It looked fearfully dangerous, and the people +below dared not utter a sound. When they got to the attic-window, Beth, +herself on the edge of the roof, guided her sister past her, and helped +her in. She was following herself, when some tiles gave way beneath her, +and fell with a crash into the street. Fortunately she had hold of the +sill, but for a moment her legs hung over; then she pulled herself +through, and, falling head first on to the floor, disappeared +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> from +sight. The people below relieved their feelings with a faint cheer.</p> + +<p>"Eh, but she's a <i>bad</i> un," said Mrs. Davy, who was trembling all over.</p> + +<p>"Well, she's a rare plucky un, at any rate," said a man in the crowd, +admiringly.</p> + +<p>Crowds constantly collected at the little house in Orchard Street in +those days. When Mrs. Caldwell had to go out alone she was always +anxious, not knowing what might be happening in her absence. Coming home +from Lady Benyon's one summer evening, she found the whole street +blocked with people, and the roadway in front of her own house packed so +tight she could not get past. Beth had dressed herself up in a mask and +a Russian sheepskin cloak which had belonged to her father, and sat +motionless in the drawing-room window on a throne made of an arm-chair +set on a box; while Bernadine played Scotch airs on the piano. A couple +of children passing had stopped to see what on earth the thing was, then +a man and woman had come along and stopped too, then several girls, some +sailors, the bellman, and many more, until the street was full. Harriet +was enjoying the commotion in the background, but when Mrs. Caldwell +appeared, she gave the signal, the piano stopped, and the strange beast +roared loudly and fled.</p> + +<p>But Beth had her human moments. They generally came on in wet weather, +which depressed her. She would then stand in the drawing-room window by +the hour together, looking out at the miserable street, thinking of the +poor people, all cold and wet and hungry. She longed to do something for +them, and one day she stopped a little girl who was going with a jug for +some beer to the "Shining Star," a quiet little public-house on the same +side of the street.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you are a very ignorant little girl," said Beth severely.</p> + +<p>"Aw?"</p> + +<p>"What's your name?"</p> + +<p>"Emily Bean."</p> + +<p>"Do you learn lessons?"</p> + +<p>"Naw."</p> + +<p>"Dear me, how dreadful!" said Beth. "You ought to be taught, you know. +Would you like to be taught?"</p> + +<p>"Ah should."</p> + +<p>"Well, you come here every afternoon at two o'clock, and I'll teach +you."</p> + +<p>"Ah mon jest ass mother first," said Emily.</p> + +<p>"Yes—I'd forgotten that," Beth rejoined. "Well, you come if she lets +you." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span></p> + +<p>Emily nodded, and was going on her errand, but stopped. "Did you ass yer +own mother if you might?" she wanted to know.</p> + +<p>"No, I didn't think of that either," Beth rejoined. "But I will."</p> + +<p>"Will she let you?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know"—rather doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"I expect she will if you wait until she's in a good humour," the child +of the people sagely suggested.</p> + +<p>"All right. You come at any rate," Beth answered boldly.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell consented. She came of a long line of lady patronesses, +and thought it natural and becoming that her child should wish to +improve the "common people." Punctually to the moment Emily arrived next +day, and Beth sat down with her in the kitchen, and taught her a, b, ab, +and b, a, d, bad. Then she repeated a piece of poetry to her, and read +her a little story. Harriet was busy in the back kitchen, and Bernadine +was out with her mother and Aunt Victoria, so Beth and her pupil had the +kitchen to themselves. The next day, however, Harriet wanted to clean +the kitchen, so they had to retire to the acting-room. This was Beth's +first attempt to apply such knowledge as she possessed, and in her +anxiety to improve the child of the people, she improved herself in +several respects. She began to read better, became less afraid of +writing and spelling, mastered the multiplication table, and found she +could "make out" how to do easy sums from the book. This gave her the +first real interest she had ever had in school-work, and inspired her +with some slight confidence in herself. She felt the dignity of the +position of teacher too, and the responsibility. She never betrayed her +own ignorance, nor did anything to shake Emily's touching belief in her +superiority; and she never shook Emily. She knew she could have done +better herself if there had been less thumping and shaking, and she had +the wisdom to profit by her mother's errors of judgment already—not +that Emily ever provoked her. The child was apt and docile, and the +lessons were a sort of improving game.</p> + +<p>How to impart religious instruction was the thing that troubled Beth +most: she used to lie awake at night thinking out the problem. She found +that Emily had learnt many texts and hymns in the Sunday-school to which +she went regularly, and Beth made her repeat them, and soon knew them +all by heart herself; but she did not think that she taught Emily +enough. One day in church, however, she thought of a way to extend her +teaching. Bernadine had joined her class for fun, and was playing at +learning too; and now Beth proposed that they should fit up a chapel in +the acting-room, and resolve themselves +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> + occasionally into a clergyman +and congregation. A chair with the bottom knocked out was the pulpit, +and a long narrow box stood on end was the reading-desk. Beth was the +parson, of course, in a white sheet filched from the soiled-clothes bag, +and changed for a black shawl for the sermon. She read portions of +Scripture standing, she read prayers on her knees, she led a hymn; and +then she got into the black shawl and preached. What these discourses +were about, she could not remember in after years; but they must have +been fascinating, for the congregation listened unwearied so long as she +chose to go on.</p> + +<p>Emily was a disappointment in one way: she had no imagination. Beth +pretended to take her photograph one day, after the manner of the +photographers on the sands.</p> + +<p>"Now, this is the picture," she said, showing her a piece of glass.</p> + +<p>"But there isn't no picture on it," said Emily, staring hard at the +glass.</p> + +<p>"How stupid you are," said Beth, disgusted. "Look again."</p> + +<p>"There isn't," Emily protested. "Just you show it to Bernadine."</p> + +<p>"You should say <i>Miss</i> Bernadine," that young lady admonished her.</p> + +<p>A few minutes afterwards Emily corrected Bernadine for not saying miss +to Beth and herself. Beth tried to explain, but Emily could not see why +she should say miss to them if they did not say miss to her and to each +other.</p> + +<p>Poor Mrs. Caldwell was in great straits for want of money at this time. +She had scarcely enough to pay for their meagre fare, and her own +clothes and the children's were almost beyond patching and darning. Beth +surprised her several times sitting beside the dining-table with the +everlasting mending on her lap, fretting silently, and the child's heart +was wrung. There was some legal difficulty, and letters which added to +her mother's trouble came to the house continually.</p> + +<p>The same faculty made Beth either the naughtiest or the best of +children; the difference depended on her heart: if that were touched, +she was all sympathy; but if no appeal was made to her feelings, her +daily doings were the outcome of so many erratic impulses acted on +without consideration, merely to vary the disastrous monotony of those +long idle afternoons.</p> + +<p>The day after she had surprised her mother fretting over her letters, +another packet arrived. Beth happened to be early up that morning, and +opened the door to the postman. She would like to have given the packet +back to him, but that being impossible, she carried it up to the +acting-room and hid it in the roof. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> +When her mother came down, however, +she found to her consternation that the fact of there being no letter at +all that morning was a greater trouble if anything than the arrival of +the one the day before; so she boldly brought it down and delivered it, +quite expecting to be whipped. But for once Mrs. Caldwell asked for an +explanation, and the child's motive was so evident that even her mother +was more affected by her sympathy than enraged by the inconvenient +expression of it.</p> + +<p>The next day she was playing on the pier with Bernadine. Her mother and +Aunt Victoria were walking up and down, not paying much attention to the +children. First they swung on a chain that was stretched from post to +post down the middle of the pier to keep people from being washed off in +stormy weather; but Bernadine tumbled over backwards and hurt her head, +and was jeered at besides by some rude little street children, who could +not understand why the little Caldwells, who were as shabby as +themselves, should look down on them, and refuse to associate with them. +It was not Beth's nature to be exclusive. She had no notion of +differences of degree. Any pleasant person was her equal. She was as +much gratified by friendly notice from the milkman, the fishwoman, and +the sweep as from Lady Benyon or Count Bartahlinsky; and very early +thought it contemptible to jeer at people for want of means and defects +of education. She never talked of the "common people," after she found +that Harriet was hurt by the phrase; and she would have been on good +terms with all the street children had it not been for what Mrs. +Caldwell called "Bernadine's superior self-respect." Bernadine told if +Beth spoke to one of them, and as Beth had no friends amongst them as +yet, she did not feel that their acquaintance was worth fighting for. +But the street children resented the attitude of the two shabby little +ladies, and were always watching for opportunities to annoy them. +Accordingly, when Bernadine tumbled off the chain head-over-heels +backwards, there was a howl of derision. "Oh my! Ain't she getten thin +legs!" "Ah say, Julia, did you see that big 'ole i' her stockin'?" "Naw, +but ah seed the patch on 'er petticoat!" "Eh—an' she's on'y getten one +on, an' it isn't flannel." "An' them's ladies!"</p> + +<p>Bernadine's pride came to her rescue on these occasions. At home she +howled when she was hurt, but now she affected to laugh, and both +sisters strolled off with their little heads up, and an exasperating air +of indifference to the enemy. The tide was out, and they went down into +the harbour and found a large oyster among the piles of the wooden +jetty. When they got home, the difficulty was how to open it; but they +managed to make it open itself by holding it over the kitchen fire on +the shovel. When it began to lift its lid, Beth sent Bernadine for a + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> +fork, and while she was getting it Beth ate the oyster. But Bernadine +could not see the joke, and her rage was not to be appeased even by the +oyster-shell, which Beth said she might have the whole of.</p> + +<p>The battle came off after dinner that evening But it was a day of +disaster. Harriet was out of temper; and Mrs. Caldwell appeared +mysteriously, just as Beth knocked Bernadine down and sat on her +stomach.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>They were reading a story of French life at that time, and something +came into it about snail-broth as a cure for consumption, and snail-oil +as a remedy for rheumatism. The next day there was a most extraordinary +smell all over the house. Mrs. Caldwell, Aunt Victoria, Harriet, and +Bernadine went sniffing about, but could find nothing to account for it. +Beth sat at the dining-table with a book before her, taking no notice. +At last Harriet had occasion to open the oven door, and just as she did +so there was a loud explosion, and the kitchen wall opposite was +bespattered with boiling animal matter. Beth had got up early, and +collected snails enough in the garden to fill a blacking-bottle, corked +them up tight, and put them into the darkest corner of the oven, her +idea being to render them into oil, as Harriet rendered suet into fat, +and go and rub rheumatic people with it. As usual, however, her motive +was ignored, while a great deal was made of the mess on the kitchen +wall—which disheartened her, especially as several other philanthropic +enterprises happened to fail about the same time.</p> + +<p>Emily appeared with a bad toothache one day, and finding a remedy for it +gave Beth a momentary interest in life. She told Emily she had a cure +for toothache, and Emily, never doubting, let her put some soft +substance into the tooth with the end of a match.</p> + +<p>"It won't taste very nice," said Beth; "but you mustn't mind that. You +just go home, and you'll find it won't ache any more."</p> + +<p>When Emily returned next day she gratefully proclaimed herself cured, +and her mother wanted to know "whatever the stuff was."</p> + +<p>"Soap," said Beth.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you mucky thing!" Emily exclaimed. She resented the application of +such a substance to the inside of her person. Her plebeian mind was too +narrow to conceive a second legitimate use for soap, and from that day +Beth's influence declined. Emily's attendance became irregular, then +gradually ceased altogether; not, however, before Beth's own interest in +the lessons was over, and her mind much occupied with other things. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span></p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> + dower-house of the Benyon family stood in a street which was merely +an extension of Orchard Street, and could be seen from Mrs. Caldwell's +windows. Lady Benyon, having produced a huge family, and buried her +husband, had done her day's work in the world, as it were, and now had +full leisure to live as she liked; so she "lived well"; and in the +intervals of living, otherwise eating, she sat in the big bow-window of +her sitting-room, digesting, and watching her neighbours. From her large +old-fashioned house she commanded a fine view down the wide irregular +front street to the sea, with a diagonal glimpse down two other streets +which ran parallel with the front street; while on the left she could +see up Orchard Street as far as the church; so that everybody came under +her observation sooner or later, and, to Beth, it always seemed that she +dominated the whole place. Most of the day her head could be seen above +the wire-blind; but, as she seldom went out, her acute old face and the +four dark sausage-shaped curls, laid horizontally on either side of it, +were almost all of her that was known to the inhabitants.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell went regularly to see Lady Benyon, and sometimes took the +children with her. On one occasion when she had done so, Lady Benyon +made her take a seat in the window where she was sitting herself, so +that they could both look out. Beth and Bernadine sat in the background +with a picture-book, in which they seemed so absorbed that the +conversation flowed on before them with very little constraint. Beth's +ears were open, however, as usual.</p> + +<p>"After twenty-two children," Lady Benyon remarked, "one cannot expect to +be as active as one was."</p> + +<p>"No, indeed," Mrs. Caldwell answered cheerfully. "<i>I</i> have only had as +good as fourteen, and I'm quite a wreck. I don't know what it is to pass +a day free from pain. But, however, it is so ordered, and I don't +complain. If only they turn out well when they do come, that's +everything."</p> + +<p>"Ah, you're right there," Lady Benyon answered.</p> + +<p>"You know <i>my</i> trial," Mrs. Caldwell pursued—Beth's face instantly +became a blank. "I am afraid she cares for no one but herself. It shows +what spoiling a child does. Her father could never make enough of her."</p> + +<p>"Well, I suppose she's naughty," Lady Benyon rejoined with a laugh; "but +she's promising all the same—and not only in appearance. The things she +says, you know!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, yes," Mrs. Caldwell allowed. "She certainly + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> says things +sometimes, but that's not much comfort when you never know what she'll +be doing. Now Mildred has never given me a moment's anxiety in her life, +except on account of her delicate health, poor little body; and +Bernadine is a dear, sweet little thing. <i>She</i> is the only one who is +thoroughly unruly and selfish."</p> + +<p>Beth's blood boiled at the accusation.</p> + +<p>"How does the old aunt get on?" Lady Benyon asked presently.</p> + +<p>"Oh, she seems to be very well."</p> + +<p>"Don't you find it rather a trial to have her about always?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell shrugged her shoulders with an air of resignation. "Oh, +you know, she means well," she replied, "and there really was nothing +else for it. But I must say I have no patience with cant."</p> + +<p>Beth, in opposition, still smarting from her mother's accusation of +selfishness, determined at once to inquire into Aunt Victoria's +religious tenets, with a view to approving of them.</p> + +<p>"Well, James Patten played a mean part in that business," Lady Benyon +observed. "But I always say, beware of a man who does his own +housekeeping. When they keep the money in their own hands, and pay the +bills themselves, don't trust them. That sort of man is a cur at heart, +you may be sure. And as for a man who takes possession of his wife's +money, and doles it out to her a little at a time—! I know one +such—without a penny of his own, mind you! He gives his wife a cheque +for five pounds a month; the rest goes on other women, and she never +suspects it! He's one of those plausible gentlemen who's always looking +for a post that will pay him, and never gets it—you know the kind of +thing." Here the old lady caught Beth's eye. "You take my advice," she +said. "Don't ever marry a man who does his own housekeeping. He's a +crowing hen, that sort of man, you may be sure. I warn you against the +man who does a woman's work."</p> + +<p>"And if a woman does a man's work?" said the intelligent Beth.</p> + +<p>"It is often a very great help," Mrs. Caldwell put in, with a quick +mental survey of the reams of official letters she had written for her +husband.</p> + +<p>Lady Benyon pursed up her mouth.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>Aunt Victoria was one of those forlorn old ladies who have nobody +actually their own to care for them, although they may have numbers of +relations, and acquire odd habits from living much alone. She was a +great source of interest to Beth, who would sit silently watching her by +the hour together, her bright + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> + eyes steady and her countenance a blank. +The intentness of her gaze fidgeted the old lady, who would look up +suddenly every now and then and ask her what she was staring at. +"Nothing, Aunt Victoria; I was only thinking," Beth always answered; and +then she affected to occupy herself until the old lady returned to her +work or her book, when Beth would resume her interrupted study. But she +liked Aunt Victoria. The old lady was sharp with her sometimes, but she +meant to be kind, and was always just; and Beth respected her. She had +more faith in her, too, than she had in her mother, and secretly became +her partisan on all occasions. She had instantly detected the tone of +detraction in the allusions Lady Benyon and her mother had made to Aunt +Victoria that afternoon, and stolidly resented it.</p> + +<p>When they went home, she ran upstairs and knocked at Aunt Victoria's +door. It was immediately opened, and Beth, seeing what she took for an +old gentleman in a short black petticoat and loose red jacket, with +short, thick, stubbly white hair standing up all over his head, started +back. But it was only Aunt Victoria without her cap and front. When she +saw Beth's consternation, the old lady put her hand up to her head. "I +had forgotten," she muttered; then she added severely, "But you should +never show surprise, Beth, at anything in anybody's appearance. It is +very ill-bred."</p> + +<p>"I don't think I shall ever be surprised again," Beth answered quaintly. +"But I want you to tell me, Aunt Victoria. What do you believe in?"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean, child?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, you know, about God, and the Bible, and cant, and that sort of +thing," Beth answered evenly.</p> + +<p>"Come in and sit down," said Aunt Victoria.</p> + +<p>Beth sat on a classical piece of furniture that stood in the window, a +sort of stool or throne, with ends like a sofa and no back. It had +belonged to Aunt Victoria's father, and she valued it very much. Beth's +feet, as she sat on it, did not touch the ground. Aunt Victoria stood +for a moment in the middle of the room reflecting, and, as she did so, +she looked, with her short, thick, stubbly white hair, more like a thin +old gentleman in a black petticoat and loose red jacket than ever.</p> + +<p>"I believe, Beth," she said solemnly, "I believe in God the Father +Almighty. I believe that if we do His holy will here on earth, we shall, +when we die, be received by Him into bliss everlasting; but if we do not +do His holy will, then He will condemn us to the bad place, where we +shall burn for ever."</p> + +<p>"But what <i>is</i> His holy will?" Beth asked.</p> + +<p>"It is His holy will that we should do right, and that we + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> should not do +wrong. But this is a big subject, Beth, and I can only unfold it to you +bit by bit."</p> + +<p>"But will you unfold it?"</p> + +<p>"I will, as best I can, if you will listen earnestly."</p> + +<p>"I am always in earnest," Beth answered sincerely.</p> + +<p>"No one can teach you God," Aunt Victoria pursued. "He must come to you. +'<i>Light is sown for the righteous, and gladness for the upright of +heart. The heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament showeth +His handiwork. Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night +showeth knowledge. There is no speech nor language where their voice is +not heard. Lift up your heads, O ye gates; and be ye lifted up, ye +everlasting doors; and the King of glory shall come in. Who is the King +of glory? The Lord strong and mighty.</i>'"</p> + +<p>Beth, in a burst of enthusiasm, jumped down from her perch, clasped her +hands to her chest, and cried—"O Aunt Victoria! that is—that is"—she +tore at her hair—"I want a word—I want a word!"</p> + +<p>"It is <i>grand</i>, Beth!"</p> + +<p>"Grand! grand!" Beth shouted. "Yes, it is grand."</p> + +<p>"Beth," said Aunt Victoria emphatically, "remember that you are a +Christian child, and not a dancing-dervish. If you do not instantly calm +yourself, I shall shake you. And if I ever see you give way to such wild +excitement again, I <i>shall</i> shake you, for your own good. Calm is one of +the first attributes of a gentlewoman."</p> + +<p>Teachers of religion do not always practise what they preach. Up to this +moment, although Beth had done her best to teach Emily, she had had no +idea of being religious herself; but now, on a sudden, there came upon +her that great yearning tenderness towards God, and desire for goodness, +which some sects call conversion, and hold to be the essential beginning +of a religious life. This was the opportunity Aunt Victoria had prayed +for, and from that time forward she began to instruct Beth +systematically in religious matters. The subject fascinated Beth, and +she would make opportunities to be alone with her aunt, and go to her +room willingly whenever she asked her, for the pleasure of hearing her. +Aunt Victoria often moved about the room, and dressed as she talked, and +Beth, while listening, did not fail to observe the difficulty of keeping +stockings up on skinny legs when you wore woollen garters below the +knee; and also that it looked funny to have to tuck up your dress to get +your purse out of a pocket in your petticoat at the back. But when Aunt +Victoria sat down and read the Bible aloud, Beth became absorbed, and +would even read whole chapters again to herself in order to remember how +to declaim the more poetical passages as Aunt Victoria + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> did—all of +which she relished with the keenest enthusiasm. Unfortunately for Beth, +however, Aunt Victoria was strongly Calvinistic, and dwelt too much on +death and the judgment for her mental health. The old lady, deeply as +she sympathised with Beth, and loved her, did not realise how morbidly +sensitive she was; and accordingly worked on her feelings until the fear +of God got hold of her. Just at this time, too, Mrs. Caldwell chose "The +Pilgrim's Progress" for a "Sunday book," and read it aloud to the +children; and this, together with Aunt Victoria's views, operated only +too actively on the child's vivid imagination. A great dread seized upon +her—not on her own account, strange to say; she never thought of +herself, but of her friends, and of the world at large. She was in +mortal dread lest they should be called to judgment and consigned to the +flames. While the sun was out such thoughts did not trouble her; but as +the day declined, and twilight sombrely succeeded the sunset, her heart +sank, and her little being was racked with one great petition, offered +up to the Lord in anguish, that He would spare them all.</p> + +<p>The season was beginning, the little place was already full of visitors, +and Beth used to stand at the dining-room window while Mrs. Caldwell was +reading aloud on Sunday evenings, and watch the congregation stream out +of the church at the end of the road, and suffer agonies because of the +torments that awaited them all, including her mother, brothers and +sisters, Harriet in the kitchen, and Mrs. Davy at Orchard House +opposite—everybody, indeed, except Aunt Victoria—in a future state. +Out on the cliffs in the summer evenings, when great dark masses of +cloud tinged with crimson were piled to the zenith at sundown, and +coldly reflected in the dark waters of the bay, she saw the destination +of the world; she heard cries of torment, too, in the plash of breaking +waves and the unceasing roar of the sea; and as she watched the visitors +lounging about in bright dresses, laughing and talking, careless of +their doom, she could hardly restrain her tears. Night after night when +she went to bed, she put her head under the clothes that Bernadine might +not hear, and her chest was torn with sobs until she fell asleep.</p> + +<p>At that time she devised no more tricks, she took no interest in games, +and would not fight even. Bernadine did not know what to make of her. +All day she was recovering from the lassitude caused by the mental +anguish of the previous evening, but regularly at sunset it began again; +and the more she suffered, the less able was she to speak on the +subject. At first she had tried to discuss eternal punishment with +Harriet, Bernadine, and Aunt Victoria, and each had responded +characteristically. Harriet's imagination dwelt on the particular +torments reserved for certain people she knew, which she described +graphically. Bernadine + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> + listened to Beth's remarks with interest, then +accused Beth of trying to frighten her, and said she would tell mamma. +Aunt Victoria discoursed earnestly on the wages of sin, the sufferings +of sinners, the glories of salvation, the peace on earth from knowing +you are saved, and the pleasures of the world to come; but the more Beth +heard of the joys of heaven, the more she dreaded the horrors of hell. +Still, however, she was too shy to say anything about her own acute +mental misery, and no one suspected that anything was wrong, until one +day something dejected in the child's attitude happened to catch Aunt +Victoria's attention.</p> + +<p>Beth was sitting on an African stool, her elbow on her knee, her chin +resting on her little hand, her grey eyes looking up through the window +at the summer sky. What could the child be thinking of, Aunt Victoria +wondered, and surely she was looking thin and pale—quite haggard.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you get something to do, Beth?" the old lady asked. "It's bad +for little girls to idle about all day."</p> + +<p>"I wish I had something to do," Beth answered. "I'm so tired."</p> + +<p>"Does your head ache, child?" Aunt Victoria asked, speaking sharply +because her mind was disturbed.</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"You should answer politely, and say 'No, thank you.'"</p> + +<p>"No, thank you, Aunt Victoria," was the docile rejoinder.</p> + +<p>Aunt Victoria resolved to speak to Mrs. Caldwell, and resumed her +knitting. She was one of those people who can keep what they have to say +till a suitable occasion offers. Her mind was never so full of any one +subject as to overflow and make a mess of it. She would wait a week +watching her opportunity if necessary; and she did not, therefore, +although she saw Mrs. Caldwell frequently during the day, speak to her +about Beth until the children had gone to bed in the evening, when she +was sure of her effect.</p> + +<p>Then she began abruptly.</p> + +<p>"Caroline, that child Beth is ill."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell was startled. It was very inconsiderate of Aunt Victoria. +She knew she was nervous about her children; how could she be so +unfeeling? What made her think Beth ill?</p> + +<p>"Look at her!" said Aunt Victoria. "She eats nothing. She has wasted to +a skeleton, she has no blood in her face at all, and her eyes look as if +she never slept."</p> + +<p>"I am sure she sleeps well enough," Mrs. Caldwell answered, inclined to +bridle.</p> + +<p>"I feel quite sure, Caroline," Aunt Victoria said solemnly, "that if you +take a candle, and go upstairs this minute, you will find that child +wide awake."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell felt that she was being found fault with, and + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> was +indignant. She went upstairs at once, with her head held high, expecting +to find Beth in a healthy sleep. The relief, however, of finding that +the child was well, would not have been so great at the moment as the +satisfaction of proving Aunt Victoria in the wrong.</p> + +<p>But Beth was wide awake, petitioning God in an agony to spare her +friends. When Mrs. Caldwell entered she started up.</p> + +<p>"O mamma!" she exclaimed, "I'm so glad you've come; I've been so +frightened about you."</p> + +<p>"What is the matter with you, Beth?" Mrs. Caldwell asked, not +over-gently. "What are you frightened about?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing," Beth faltered, shrinking back into herself.</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's nonsense," her mother answered. "It's silly to be frightened +at nothing, and cowardly to be frightened at all. Lie down and go to +sleep, like a good child. Come, turn your face to the wall, and I'll +tuck you in."</p> + +<p>Beth obeyed, and her mother left her to her fears, and returned to Aunt +Victoria in the drawing-room.</p> + +<p>"Well?" Aunt Victoria asked anxiously.</p> + +<p>"She was awake," Mrs. Caldwell acknowledged. "She said she was +frightened, but didn't know what of. I expect she'd been dreaming. And +I'm sure there is nothing the matter with her. She's been subject to +queer fits of alarm at night ever since she was a baby. It's the dark, I +think. It makes her nervous. At one time the doctor made us have a +night-light for her, which was great nonsense, <i>I</i> always said; but her +father insisted. When it suits her to play in the dark, she's never +afraid."</p> + +<p>It was at this time that Rainharbour set up a band of its own. Beth was +always peculiarly susceptible to music. Her ear was defective; she +rarely knew if any one sang flat; but the poorest instrument would lay +hold of her, and set high chords of emotion vibrating, beyond the reach +of words. The first time she heard the band, she was completely carried +away. It was on the pier, and she happened to be close beside it when it +began to play, and stood still in astonishment at the crash of the +opening bars. Her mother, after vainly calling to her to come on, +snatched impatiently at her arm to drag her away; and Beth, in her +excitement, set her teeth and slapped at her mother's hand—or rather at +what seemed to her the importunate thing that was trying to end her +ecstasy.</p> + +<p>Of course Mrs. Caldwell would not stand that, so Beth, victim of brute +force, was hustled off to the end of the pier, and then slapped, shaken, +and reviled, for the enormity of her offence, until, in an acute nervous +crisis, she wrenched herself out of her mother's clutches, and sprang +over into the harbour. It was high-water happily, and Count Gustav +Bartahlinsky, who was just + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> + going out in his yacht, saw her drop, and +fished her out with a boat-hook.</p> + +<p>"Look here, young woman," he said, "what do you mean by tumbling about +like this? I shall have the trouble of turning back and putting you on +shore."</p> + +<p>"No, don't; no, don't," Beth pleaded. "Take me along with you."</p> + +<p>He looked at her an instant, considering, then went to the side of the +yacht, and called up to her frantic mother: "She's all right. I'll have +her dried, and bring her back this afternoon,"—with which assurance +Mrs. Caldwell was obliged to content herself, for the yacht sailed on; +not that she would have objected. Beth and Count Gustav were sworn +allies by this time, and Mrs. Caldwell knew that Beth could not be in +better hands. Beth had seen Count Gustav passing their window a few days +after their first meeting, and had completed her conquest of him by +tearing out, and running down Orchard Street after him with nothing on +her head, to ask what copyright was; and since then they had often met, +and sometimes spent delightful hours together, sitting on the cliffs or +strolling along by the sea. He had discovered her talent for +verse-making, and given her a book on the subject, full of examples, +which was a great joy to her. When the yacht was clear of the harbour, +he took her down to the saloon, and got out a silk shirt. "I'm going to +leave you," he said, "and when I'm gone, you must take off all your +things, and put this shirt on. Then tumble into that berth between the +blankets, and I'll come back and talk to you." Beth promptly obeyed. She +was an ill-used heroine now, in the hands of her knightly deliverer, and +thoroughly happy.</p> + +<p>When Count Gustav returned, he was followed by Gard, a tall, dark, +handsome sailor, a descendant of black Dane settlers on the coast, and +for that reason commonly called Black Gard. He brought sandwiches, +cakes, and hot tea on a tray for Beth. She had propped herself up with +pillows in the berth, and was looking out of an open port-hole opposite, +listening enraptured to the strains of the band, which, mellowed by +distance, floated out over the water.</p> + +<p>"What a radiant little face!" the Count thought, as he handed her the +tea and sandwiches.</p> + +<p>Beth took them voraciously.</p> + +<p>"Did you have any breakfast?" the Count asked, smiling.</p> + +<p>"Yes," Beth answered.</p> + +<p>"What did you have?"</p> + +<p>"Milk and hot water and dry toast. I made the toast myself."</p> + +<p>"No butter?" + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No. The butter's running short, so I wouldn't take any."</p> + +<p>"When do you lunch?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, we don't lunch. Can't afford it, you know. The boys have got to be +educated, and Uncle James Patten won't help, though Jim's his heir."</p> + +<p>Count Gustav looked at her little delicate hand lying on the coverlet, +and then at the worn little face.</p> + +<p>"You've been crying," he said.</p> + +<p>"Ah, that was only last night after I went to bed," Beth answered. "It +makes you cry when people aren't saved, doesn't it? Are you saved? If +you're not it will be awful for me."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"'Cos it would hurt so here to think of you burning in hell"—Beth +clasped her chest. "It always begins to ache here—in the evening—for +the people who aren't saved, and when I go to bed it makes me cry."</p> + +<p>"Who told you about being saved, and that?"</p> + +<p>"Aunt Victoria. She lives with us, you know. She's going away now to pay +a visit, because the boys are coming home, and Mildred, for the +holidays, and there wouldn't be room for her. I'm dreadfully sorry; but +I shall go to church, and read the Bible just the same when she's away."</p> + +<p>Count Gustav sat down on the end of the saloon-table and reflected a +little; then he said—"I wouldn't read anything, if I were you, while +Aunt Victoria's away. Just play about with Mildred and the boys, and +come out fishing with me sometimes. God doesn't want <i>you</i> to save +people. He does that Himself. I expect He's very angry because you cry +at night. He thinks you don't trust Him. All He wants you to do is to +love Him, and trust Him, and be happy. That's the creed for a little +girl."</p> + +<p>"Do you think so?" Beth gasped. Then she began to reflect, and her big +grey eyes slowly dilated, while at the same time a look of intense +relief relaxed the muscles of her pinched little face. "Do you think +so?" she repeated. Then suddenly she burst into tears.</p> + +<p>Count Gustav, somewhat disconcerted, hurriedly handed her a +handkerchief.</p> + +<p>Another gentleman came into the saloon at the moment, and raised +inquiring eyebrows.</p> + +<p>"Only a little martyr, momentarily released from suffering, enjoying the +reaction," Count Gustav observed. "Come on deck, and let her sleep. Do +you hear, little lady, go to sleep."</p> + +<p>Beth, docile to a fault when gently handled, nestled down among the +blankets, shut her eyes, and prepared to obey. The sound of the water +rippling off the sides of the yacht as it + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> + glided on smoothly over the +summer-sea both soothed and cheered her. Heavenly thoughts came crowding +into her mind; then sleep surprised her, with the tears she had been +shedding for the sufferings of others still wet upon her cheek. When she +awoke, her clothes were beside her, ready to put on. She jumped up +instantly, dressed, and went on deck. The yacht was almost stationary, +and the two gentlemen, attended by the black Dane, Gard, were fishing. +Away to starboard, the land lay like a silver mist in the heat of the +afternoon. Beth turned her sorrowful little face towards it.</p> + +<p>"Are you homesick, Beth?" Count Gustav asked.</p> + +<p>"No, sick of home," Beth answered; "but I suppose I shall have to go +back."</p> + +<p>"And what then?"</p> + +<p>"Mamma will punish me for jumping into the harbour, I expect."</p> + +<p>"<i>Jumping</i> in!" he ejaculated, and then a great gravity settled upon +him, and he cogitated for some time. "Why did you jump in?" he said at +last.</p> + +<p>"Because mamma—because mamma—" her chest heaved. She was ashamed to +say.</p> + +<p>Count Gustav exchanged glances with the other gentleman, and said no +more. But he took her home himself in the evening, and had a long talk +with mamma and Aunt Victoria; and after he had gone they were both +particularly nice to Beth, but very solemn. That night, too, Aunt +Victoria did not mention death and the judgment, but talked of heaven +and the mercy of God until Beth's brow cleared, and she was filled with +hope.</p> + +<p>It was the next day that Aunt Victoria left them to make room for +Mildred and the boys. Beth went with her mother to see the old lady off +at the station. On account of their connections the little party +attracted attention, and Mrs. Caldwell, feeling her importance, expected +the officials to be obsequious, which they were; and, in return, she +also expected Aunt Victoria to make proper acknowledgment of their +attentions. She considered that sixpence at least was necessary to +uphold the dignity of the family on such occasions; but, to her horror, +when the moment came, Aunt Victoria, after an exciting fumble, drew from +her reticule a tract entitled "The Man on the Slant," and, in the face +of everybody, handed it to the expectant porter.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell assured Lady Benyon afterwards that she should never +forget that moment. Beth used to wonder why. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span></p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> end of the holidays found Beth in a very different mood. Jim had +come with the ideas of his adolescence, and Mildred had brought new +music, and these together had helped to take her completely out of +herself. The rest from lessons, too—from her mother's method of making +education a martyrdom, and many more hours of each day than usual spent +in the open air, had also helped greatly to ease her mind and strengthen +her body, so that, even in the time, which was only a few weeks, she had +recovered her colour, shot up, and expanded.</p> + +<p>Most of the time she had spent with Jim, whom she had studied with +absorbing interest, his point of view was so wholly unexpected. And even +in these early days she showed a trait of character for which she +afterwards became remarkable; that is to say, she learned the whole of +the facts of a case before she formed an opinion on its merits—listened +and observed uncritically, without prejudice and without personal +feeling, until she was fully informed. Life unfolded itself to her like +the rules of arithmetic. She could not conjecture what the answer would +be in any single example from a figure or two, but had to take them all +down in order to work the sum. And her object was always, not to prove +herself right in any guess she might have made, but to arrive at the +truth. She was eleven years old at this time, but looked fourteen.</p> + +<p>It was when she went out shooting with Jim that they used to have their +most interesting discussions. Jim used to take her to carry things, but +never offered her a shot, because she was a girl. She did not care about +that, however, because she had made up her mind to take the gun when he +was gone, and go out shooting on her own account; and she abstracted a +certain amount of powder and shot from his flasks each day to pay +herself for her present trouble, and also to be ready for the future. +Uncle James had given Jim leave to shoot, provided he sent the game he +killed to Fairholm; and sometimes they spent the day wandering through +the woods after birds, and sometimes they sat on the cliffs, which +skirted the property, potting rabbits. Jim expected Beth to act as a +keeper for him, and also to retrieve like a well-trained dog; and when +on one occasion she disappointed him, he had a good deal to say about +the uselessness of sisters and the inferiority of the sex generally. +Women, he always maintained, were only fit to sew on buttons and mend +socks.</p> + +<p>"But is it contemptible to sew on buttons and mend socks?" + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> Beth asked, +one day when they were sitting in a sandy hollow waiting for rabbits.</p> + +<p>"It's not a man's work," said Jim, a trifle disconcerted.</p> + +<p>Beth looked about her. The great sea, the vast tract of sand, and the +blue sky so high above them, made her suffer for her own insignificance, +and feel for the moment that nothing was worth while; but in the hollow +where they sat it was cosy and the grass was green. Miniature cliffs +overhung the rabbit-holes, and the dry soil was silvered by sun and wind +and rain. There was a stiff breeze blowing, but it did not touch them in +their sheltered nook. They could hear it making its moan, however, as if +it were vainly trying to get at them; and there also ascended from below +the ceaseless sound of the sea. Beth turned her back on the wild +prospect, and watched the rabbit-holes.</p> + +<p>"There's one on the right," she said at last, softly.</p> + +<p>Jim raised his gun, aimed, and fired. The rabbit rolled over on its +back, and Beth rose in a leisurely way, fetched it, carrying it by its +legs, and threw it down on the bag.</p> + +<p>"And when all the buttons are sewed on and all the socks mended, what is +a girl to do with her time?" she asked dispassionately, when she had +reseated herself. "The things only come home from the wash once a week, +you see."</p> + +<p>"Oh, there's lots to be done," Jim answered vaguely. "There's the +cooking. A man's life isn't worth having if the cooking's bad."</p> + +<p>"But a gentleman keeps a cook," Beth observed.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, of course," Jim answered irritably. "You would see what I mean +if you weren't a girl. Girls have no brains. They scream at a mouse."</p> + +<p>"<i>We</i> never scream at mice," Beth protested in surprise. "Bernadine +catches them in her hands."</p> + +<p>"Ah, but then you've had brothers, you see," said Jim. "It makes all the +difference if you're taught not to be silly."</p> + +<p>"Then why aren't all girls taught, and why aren't we taught more +things?"</p> + +<p>"Because you've got no brains, I tell you."</p> + +<p>"But if we can be taught one thing, why can't we be taught another? How +can you tell we've no brains if you never try to teach us?"</p> + +<p>"Now look here, Miss Beth," said brother Jim in a tone of exasperation, +"I know what you'll be when you grow up, if you don't mind. You'll be +just the sort of long-tongued shrew, always arguing, that men hate."</p> + +<p>"Do you say 'that men hate' or 'whom men hate'?" Beth interrupted.</p> + +<p>"There you are!" said Jim; "devilish sharp at a nag. That's + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> just what +I'm telling you. Now, you take my advice, and hold your tongue. Then +perhaps you'll get a husband; and if you do, make things comfortable for +him. Men can't abide women who don't make things comfortable."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Beth temperately, "I don't think I could 'abide' a man who +didn't make things comfortable."</p> + +<p>Jim grunted, as though that point of view were a different thing +altogether.</p> + +<p>By degrees Beth discovered that sisters did not hold at all the same +sort of place in Jim's estimation as "the girls." The girls were other +people's sisters, to whom Jim was polite, and whom he even fawned on and +flattered while they were present, but made most disparaging remarks +about and ridiculed behind their backs; to his own sisters, on the +contrary, he was habitually rude, but he always spoke of them nicely in +their absence, and even boasted about their accomplishments.</p> + +<p>"Your brother Jim says you can act anything," Charlotte Hardy, the +doctor's daughter, told Beth. "And you recite wonderfully, although +you've never heard any one recite; and you talk like a grown-up person."</p> + +<p>Beth flushed with surprise and pleasure at this; but her heart had +hardly time to expand before she observed the puzzling discrepancy +between what Jim said to her and what he had been saying to other +people, and found it impossible to reconcile the two, so as to have any +confidence in Jim's sincerity.</p> + +<p>Before the end of the holidays she had learned to enjoy Jim's +companionship, but she had no respect for his opinions at all. He had +taught her a good deal, however. He had taught her, for one thing, the +futility of discussion with people of his capacity. The small intellect +should be treated like the small child—with tenderest consideration. It +must not hear too much of anything at a time, and there are certain +things that it must never be told at all. Simple familiar facts, with +obvious little morals, are the right food for it, and constant +repetition of what it knows is safe; but such heavy things as theories, +opinions, and arguments must be kept carefully concealed from it, for +fear of causing congestion or paralysis, or, worse still, that parlous +condition which betrays itself in distressing symptoms such as one sees +daily in society, or sits and shudders at in one's own friends, when the +victim, swelling with importance, makes confident mis-statements, draws +erroneous conclusions, sums up and gives advice so fatuous that you +blush to be a biped of the same species.</p> + +<p>There was an hotel in Rainharbour called the "United Kingdom," where Jim +spent much of his time playing billiards, drinking beer, and smoking +pipes. He had to coax money out of his mother continually for these +pursuits. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It's the kind of thing a fellow must do, you know, mamma," he said. +"You can't expect him to stick at home like a girl. He must see life, or +he'll be a muff instead of a man of the world. How shall I get on at +Fairholm, when I come in for the property, if I'm not up to things?"</p> + +<p>This was said at breakfast one morning, and Mrs. Caldwell, sitting +opposite the window, raised her worn face and looked up at the sky, +considering what else there was that she could do without.</p> + +<p>"Do you learn how to manage estates at the 'United Kingdom'?" Beth put +in innocently.</p> + +<p>"Now, look here, Beth, just you shut up," said Jim. "You're always +putting your oar in, and its deuced impertinent of a child like you, +when I'm talking to my mother. <i>She</i> knows what I'm talking about, and +you don't; but you'll be teaching her next, I expect. You're far too +cheeky."</p> + +<p>"I only wanted to know," Beth protested.</p> + +<p>"That will do," said Mrs. Caldwell impatiently. She was put out by Jim's +demand for money, which she had not got to spare, and found it a relief +to expend some of her irritation on Beth. "Jim is quite right, and I +won't have you hanging about always, listening to things you don't +understand, and rudely interrupting."</p> + +<p>"I thought we were at breakfast," Beth exclaimed, furious at being +unjustly accused of hanging about.</p> + +<p>"Be good enough to leave the table," said Mrs. Caldwell; "and you shall +have nothing but bread and water for the rest of the day."</p> + +<p>"It will be a dinner of herbs with contentment, then, if I have it +alone," said Beth; for which impertinence she was condemned to be +present at every meal.</p> + +<p>Having extracted the money from his mother, Jim went off to the "United +Kingdom," and came back in the afternoon, somewhat the worse for beer; +but Mrs. Caldwell did not perceive it. He complained of the poor dinner, +the cooking, and Beth's shabby appearance.</p> + +<p>"How can you go out with me like that?" he said. "Why can't you dress +properly? Look at my things! I'm decent."</p> + +<p>"So should I be," said Beth, without malice, her eyes shining with +mortification. "So should I be if anybody bought me decent clothes."</p> + +<p>She did not think it unfair, however, that she should go shabby so that +Jim might be well dressed. Nor did she feel it wrong, when the holidays +were over, and the boys had gone, that she should be left idly drumming +on the window-pane; that they + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> +should have every advantage while she had +none, and no prospect but the uncertain chance of securing a husband if +she held herself well and did as she was told—a husband whom she would +be expected to obey whatever he might lack in the way of capacity to +order. It is suffering which makes these things plain to a generous +woman; but usually by the time she has suffered enough to be able to +blame those whom it has been her habit to love and respect, and to judge +of the wrong they have done her, it is too late to remedy it. Even if +her faculties have not atrophied for want of use, all that should have +been cultivated lies latent in her; she has nothing to fall back upon, +and her life is spoilt.</p> + +<p>Beth stood idly drumming on the window-pane for long hours after the +boys had gone. Then she got her battered old hat, walked out to +Fairholm, and wandered over the ground where she had been wont to +retrieve for Jim. When she came to the warren, the rabbits were out +feeding, and she amused herself by throwing stones at them with her left +hand. She had the use of both hands, and would not have noticed if her +knife had been put where her fork should have been at table; but she +threw stones, bowled, batted, played croquet, and also tennis in after +years, with her left hand by preference, and she always held out her +left hand to be handed from a carriage.</p> + +<p>She succeeded in killing a rabbit with a stone, to her own surprise and +delight, and carried it off home, where it formed a welcome addition to +the meagre fare. She skinned and cleaned it herself, boiled it, carved +it carefully so that it might not look like a cat on the dish, covered +it with good onion-sauce, and garnished it with little rolls of fried +bacon, and sent it to table, where the only other dish was cold +beef-bones with very little meat on them.</p> + +<p>"Where did it come from?" Mrs. Caldwell asked, looking pleased.</p> + +<p>"From Fairholm," Beth answered.</p> + +<p>"I must thank your uncle," said Mrs. Caldwell.</p> + +<p>"It was not my uncle," Beth answered, laughing; "and you're not to send +any thanks."</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well," said Mrs. Caldwell, still more pleased, for she +supposed it was a surreptitious kindness of Aunt Grace Mary's. She ate +the rabbit with appetite, and Beth, as she watched her, determined to go +hunting again, and see what she could get for her. Beth would not have +touched a penny of Uncle James's, but from that time forward she did not +scruple to poach on his estate, and bring home anything she could catch. +She had often prayed to the Lord to show her how to do something to help +her mother in her dire poverty, and when this idea occurred to her, she +accepted it as a direct answer to her prayer.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell and the three girls slept in the largest bedroom + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> in the +house. It was at the back, looking into the little garden, and out to +the east. The early morning sun, making black bars of the window-frame +on the white blind, often awoke Beth, and she would lie and count the +white spaces between the bars, where the window-panes were,—three, six, +nine, twelve; or two, four, six, eight, ten, twelve. One morning after +Jim left she was lying awake counting the window-panes when Harriet +knocked at the door with the hot water. Mildred had not yet gone back to +her aunt, and was sleeping with Beth, Bernadine being with her mother.</p> + +<p>"Come, get up, children," said Mrs. Caldwell, as she got out of bed +herself.</p> + +<p>"Mamma, mayn't I have breakfast in bed?" said Bernadine in a wheedling +tone.</p> + +<p>"No, no, my little body," Mrs. Caldwell answered.</p> + +<p>"But, mamma," whined the little body, "I've got such a headache!" She +very often had when she ought to have been getting up.</p> + +<p>"Cry, baby, cry," sang out Beth. "Mamma, give me my stockings."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell picked them up off the floor, and gave them to her. Beth +began to put them on in bed, and diverted herself as she did so by +making diabolical grimaces at the malingering imp opposite.</p> + +<p>"Mamma," Bernadine whined again, "Beth's teasing me."</p> + +<p>"Beth, how often am I to tell you that I will not allow you to tease the +child?" Mrs. Caldwell exclaimed.</p> + +<p>Beth solemnly gartered her stockings. Then she gave Mildred a dig in the +ribs with her heel, and growled, "Get up!"</p> + +<p>"Mamma, Beth is teasing <i>me</i>, now," said Mildred promptly.</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't see why I should be obliged to do all the getting up for +the family," said Beth.</p> + +<p>Her mother turned from the looking-glass with her hair-brush in her +hand, and gazed at her sternly. Beth hummed a tune, but kept at a safe +distance until she was dressed, then made her escape, going straight to +the kitchen, where Harriet was cutting bread to toast. "That's all the +bread there is," she said, "and it won't be enough for breakfast if you +eat any."</p> + +<p>"All right, then; I haven't any appetite," Beth answered casually. "What +did you dream last night?"</p> + +<p>"I dreamt about crocodiles," Harriet averred.</p> + +<p>"A crocodile's a reptile," said Beth, "and a reptile is trouble and an +enemy. You always dream nasty things; I expect it's your inside."</p> + +<p>"What's that to do wi' it?" said Harriet.</p> + +<p>"Everything," said Beth. "Don't you know the stuff that dreams are made +of? Pickles, pork, and plum-cake." + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Dreams is sent for our guidance," Harriet answered portentously, +shaking her head at Beth's flippancy.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm glad of it," said Beth, "for I dreamt I was catching Uncle +James's trout in a most unsportsmanlike way, and I guess the dream was +sent to show me how to do it. When I have that kind of dream, I notice +it nearly always comes true. But where's the 'Dream Book'?"</p> + +<p>"'Ook it," said Harriet. "'Ere's your ma."</p> + +<p>As the other little bodies had their breakfasts in bed, Beth had to face +her lessons alone that morning, and Mrs. Caldwell was not in an amiable +mood; but she was absent as well as irritable, so Beth did some old work +over again, and as she knew it thoroughly, she got on well until the +music began.</p> + +<p>Beth had a great talent as well as a great love for music. When they +were at Fairholm, Aunt Grace Mary gave her Uncle James's "Instruction +Book for Beginners" one wet day to keep her quiet, and she learnt her +notes in the afternoon, and began at once to apply them practically on +the piano. She soon knew all the early exercises and little tunes, and +was only too eager to do more; but her mother hated the music-lesson +more than any of the others, and was so harsh that Beth became nervous, +and only ventured on the simplest things for fear of the consequences. +When her mother went out, however, she tried what she liked, and, if she +had heard the piece before, she could generally make something +satisfactory to herself out of it. One day Aunt Victoria found her +sitting on the music-stool, solemnly pulling at her fingers, one after +the other, as though to stretch them.</p> + +<p>"What <i>are</i> you doing, child?" she said.</p> + +<p>"O Aunt Victoria," Beth answered in a despairing way, "here's such a +<i>lovely</i> thing, and my head will play it, only my fingers are not long +enough."</p> + +<p>Mildred had brought a quantity of new music home with her these +holidays. She promised to play well also, and her aunt was having her +properly taught. Beth listened to her enraptured when she first arrived, +and then, to Mildred's surprise and admiration, tried the pieces +herself, and in a few weeks knew all that it had taken Mildred six +months to learn.</p> + +<p>That morning, as ill-luck would have it, when she was waiting at the +piano for her mother to come and give her her lesson, Beth began to try +a piece with a passage in it that she could not play.</p> + +<p>"Do show me how to do this," she said when Mrs. Caldwell came.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you can't do that," Mrs. Caldwell exclaimed. "It is far too +difficult for you."</p> + +<p>"But I do so want to learn it," Beth ventured.</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well," her mother answered. "But I warn you!" + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span></p> + +<p>Beth began, and got on pretty well till she came to the passage she did +not understand, and there she stumbled.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing?" Mrs. Caldwell exclaimed.</p> + +<p>Beth tried again nervously.</p> + +<p>"That's not right," her mother cried. "What does that sign mean? Now, +what is it? Just think!"</p> + +<p>Beth, with a flushed face, was thinking hard, but nothing came of it.</p> + +<p>"Will you speak?" her mother said angrily. "You are the most obstinate +child that ever lived. Now, say something."</p> + +<p>"It's not a shake," Beth ventured.</p> + +<p>"A shake!" her mother exclaimed, giving her a hard thump on the back +with her clenched fist. "Now, no more obstinacy. Tell me what it is at +once."</p> + +<p>"I don't know that sign," Beth faltered in desperation.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you don't know it!" her mother said, now fairly fuming, and +accompanying every word by a hard thump of her clenched fist. "Then I'll +teach you. I've a great mind to beat you as long as I can stand over +you."</p> + +<p>Beth was a piteous little figure, crouched on the piano-stool, her back +bent beneath her mother's blows, and every fibre of her sensitive frame +shrinking from her violence; but she made no resistance, and Mrs. +Caldwell carried out her threat. When she could beat Beth no longer, she +told her to sit there until she knew that sign, and then she left her. +Beth clenched her teeth, and an ugly look came into her face. There had +been dignity in her endurance—the dignity of self-control; for there +was the force in her to resist, had she thought it right to resist. What +she was thinking while her mother beat her was: "I hope I shall not +strike you back."</p> + +<p>Harriet had heard the scolding, and when Mrs. Caldwell had gone she came +and peeped in at the door.</p> + +<p>"She's bin' thumpin' you again, 'as she?" she said with a grin. "Wot 'a +ye bin' doin' now?"</p> + +<p>"What business is that of yours?" said Beth defiantly. It was bad enough +to be beaten, but it was much worse to have Harriet peeping in to gloat +over her humiliation. Harriet was not to be snubbed, however. She went +up to the piano and looked at the music.</p> + +<p>"It's precious hard, I should think," she remarked.</p> + +<p>"It's <i>not</i> hard," Beth answered positively, "if anybody tells you what +you don't know and can't make out for yourself. I always remember when +I'm told or shown how to do it; but what's the use of staring at a sign +you've never seen before? Just you look at that! Can you make anything +out of it?" Harriet approached, and, after staring at the sign curiously +for +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> + some time, shook her head. "Of course not," said Beth, snatching up +her music, and throwing it on the floor; "and neither can anybody else. +It isn't fair."</p> + +<p>Bernadine had begun her lessons by this time in the next room, and Mrs. +Caldwell suddenly began to scold again. "Oh, that awful voice!" Beth +groaned aloud, her racked nerves betraying her.</p> + +<p>"She's catchin' it now!" said Harriet, after listening with interest. +She seemed to derive some sort of gratification from the children's +troubles. "But don't you bother any more, Miss Beth.—Your ma'll 'ave +forgotten all about it by goin'-out time—or she'll pertend she 'as to +save 'erself trouble. Come and 'elp us wi' the beds."</p> + +<p>Beth rose slowly from the piano-stool, and followed Harriet upstairs to +the bedroom at the back of the house. She was at once attracted to the +open window by an uproar of voices—"the voices of children in happy +play." There was a girls' day-school next door kept by the Misses +Granger. Miss Granger had called on Mrs. Caldwell as soon as she was +settled in her house, to beg for the honour of being allowed to educate +her three little girls, and Beth had assisted at the interview with +serious attention. It would have been the best thing in the world for +her had she been allowed to romp and learn with that careless, happy, +healthy-minded crew of respectable little plebeians; but Mrs. Caldwell +would never have dreamt of sending any of her own superior brood to +associate with such people, even if she could have afforded it. She +politely explained to Miss Granger that she was educating her children +herself for the present; and it was then, with a sickening sense of +disappointment, that Beth rejected her mother's social standard, with +its "vulgar exclusiveness," once for all.</p> + +<p>She hung out of the window now, heedless of Harriet's appeals to be +"'elped wi' the beds," and watched the games going on in the next garden +with pathetic gravity. The girls were playing rounders among the old +fruit-trees on the grass-plot, with a loud accompaniment of shrieks and +shouts of laughter. They tumbled up against the trees continually, and +shook showers of autumn leaves down upon themselves; and then, tiring of +the game, they began to pelt each other with the leaves, and laughed and +shrieked still louder. Some of them looked up and made faces at Beth, +but she did not acknowledge the discourtesy. She knew that they were not +ladies, but did not feel, as her mother did, that this was a fault for +which they should be punished, but a misfortune, rather, for which she +pitied them, and she would have liked to have made it up to them by +knowing them. Suddenly she remembered that Aunt Victoria was + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> coming +back that day, which was something to look forward to. She took +Harriet's duster, and went to see if the old lady's room was all in +order for her, and arranged as she liked it. Then she returned to the +drawing-room, and sat down on the piano-stool, and rage and rebellion +uprose in her heart. The piece of music still lay on the floor, and she +stamped her foot on it. As she did so, her mother came into the room.</p> + +<p>"Do you know your lesson?" she demanded.</p> + +<p>"No, I do not," said Beth, and then she doubled her fist, and brought it +down bang on the keyboard.</p> + +<p>"How dare you!" Mrs. Caldwell exclaimed, startled by the vehemence of +the blow, and jarred by the discordant cry of the poor piano.</p> + +<p>"I felt I <i>must</i>—I felt I must make something suffer," said Beth, in a +deep chest-voice and with knitted brows, twisting her fingers and rising +to face her mother as she spoke; "and if I had not struck the piano, I +should have struck <i>you</i>."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell could not have been more taken aback if Beth had struck +her. The colour left her face, a chill succeeded the heat of temper, and +her right mind returned as to a drunken man suddenly sobered. She +noticed that Beth's eyes were almost on a level with her own, and once +again she realised that if Beth chose to rebel, she would be powerless +to control her. For some seconds they looked at each other without a +word. Then Beth stooped, picked up the piece of music, smoothed it out, +and put it on the stand; and then she shut up the piano deliberately, +but remained standing in front of it with her back to her mother. Mrs. +Caldwell watched her for a little in silence.</p> + +<p>"It's your own fault, Beth," she said at last. "You are so conceited; +you try to play things that are too difficult for you, and then you get +into trouble. It is no pleasure to me to punish you."</p> + +<p>Beth remained with her back turned, immovable, and her mother looked at +her helplessly a little longer, and then left the room. When she had +gone, Beth sat down on the piano-stool. Her shabby shoes had holes in +them, her dress was worn thread-bare, and her sleeves were too short for +her. She had no collar or cuffs, and her thin hands and long wrists +looked hideous to her as they lay in her lap. Great tears gathered in +her eyes. So conceited indeed! What had she to be conceited about? Every +one despised her, and she despised herself. Here the tears overflowed, +and Beth began to cry at last, and cried and cried for a long time very +bitterly.</p> + +<p>That afternoon, after Aunt Victoria had arrived, Lady Benyon and Aunt +Grace Mary called. Mrs. Caldwell had recovered her good-humour by that +time, and was all smiles to everybody, + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> + including Beth, when she came +sauntering in, languid and heavy-eyed, with half a sheet of notepaper in +her hand.</p> + +<p>"What have you there, Puck?" said Lady Benyon, catching sight of some +hieroglyph drawn on the paper. Beth gave it to her, and she turned it +this way and that, but could make nothing of it.</p> + +<p>"Mamma will tell us what it is," said Beth, taking it to her mother.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell, still smiling, looked at the drawing. "It's an +astronomical sign, surely," she ventured.</p> + +<p>"No, it is not," Beth said.</p> + +<p>"Then I don't know what it is," her mother rejoined.</p> + +<p>"Oh, but you must know, mamma," said Beth. "Look again."</p> + +<p>"But I don't know, Beth," Mrs. Caldwell insisted.</p> + +<p>"Couldn't you make it out if Aunt Victoria beat you?" Beth suggested.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell changed countenance.</p> + +<p>"That is what you expect me to do, at all events," Beth pursued. "Now, +you see, you can't do it yourself; and I ask you, was it fair to expect +me to make out a strange sign by staring at it?" She set her mouth hard +when she had spoken, and looked her mother straight in the face. Mrs. +Caldwell winced.</p> + +<p>"What's the difficulty, Puck?" Lady Benyon asked.</p> + +<p>"The difficulty is between me and mamma," Beth answered with dignity, +and then she left the room, sauntering out as she had come in, with an +utterly dispirited air.</p> + +<p>The next morning she went to practice as usual, but Mrs. Caldwell did +not come to give her her music-lesson. Beth thought she had forgotten +it, and went to remind her.</p> + +<p>"No, Beth, I have not forgotten," said Mrs. Caldwell; "but after your +conduct yesterday, I do not know how you can expect me to give you +another music-lesson."</p> + +<p>"Are you not going to give me any more?" Beth exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"No, certainly not," her mother answered.</p> + +<p>Beth's heart sank. She stood for some little time in the doorway looking +at her mother, who sat beside the table sewing, and pointedly ignored +her; then Beth turned, and went back to the drawing-room slowly, and +carefully practised the usual time, with great tears trickling down her +cheeks. It did not seem to make much difference what happened, whether +she was on her best behaviour or her worst, the tears were bound to +come. But Beth had a will of her own, and she determined to learn music. +She said no more on the subject to her mother, however, but from that +day forward she practised regularly and hard, and + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> studied her +instruction books, and listened to other people playing when she had a +chance, and asked to have passages explained to her, until at last she +knew more than her mother could have taught her.</p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">But</span> well-springs, mortal and immortal, were beginning to bubble up +brightly in Beth, despite the hard conditions of her life. She sharpened +her wits involuntarily on the people about her, she gathered knowledge +where she listed; her further faculty flashed forth fine rays at +unexpected intervals to cheer her, and her hungry heart also began to +seek satisfaction. For Beth was by nature well-balanced; there was to be +no atrophy of one side of her being in order that the other might be +abnormally developed. Her chest was not to be flattened because her +skull bulged with the big brain beneath. Rather the contrary. For mind +and body acted and reacted on each other favourably, in so far as the +conditions of her life were favourable. Such congenial intellectual +pursuits as she was able to follow, by tranquillising her, helped the +development of her physique, while the healthy condition of her body +stimulated her to renewed intellectual effort—and it was all a pleasure +to her.</p> + +<p>At this time she had a new experience, an experience for which she was +totally unprepared, but one which helped her a great deal, and delighted +as much as it surprised her.</p> + +<p>There were high oak pews in the little church at the end of the road +which the Caldwells attended on Sunday; in the rows on either side of +the main aisle the pews came together in twos, so that when Beth sat at +the end of theirs, as she always did, the person in the next pew sat +beside her with only the wooden partition between. One Sunday, when she +was on her knees, drowsing through the Litany with her cheek on her +prayer-book, she became aware of a boy in the next pew with his face +turned to her in exactly the same attitude. He had bright fair hair +curling crisply, a ruddy fair fat face, and round blue eyes, clear as +glass marbles. Beth was pleased with him, and smiled involuntarily. He +instantly responded to the smile; and then they both got very red; and, +in their delicious shyness, they turned their heads on their +prayer-books, and looked in opposite directions. This did not last long, +however. The desire for another look seized them simultaneously, and +they turned their faces to each other, and smiled again the moment their +eyes met. All through the service they kept looking at each other, and +looking away again; and Beth felt a strange glad glow begin in her chest +and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> +spread gradually all over her. It continued with her the whole day; +she was conscious of it throughout the night; and directly she awoke +next morning there it was again; and she could think of nothing but the +apple-cheeked boy, with bright blue eyes and curly fair hair; and as she +dwelt upon his image she smiled to herself, and kept on smiling. There +came upon her also a great desire to please, with sudden energy which +made all effort easy to her, so that, instead of being tiresome at her +lessons, she did them in a way that astonished her mother—such a +wonderful incentive is a little joy in life. She would not go out when +lessons were over, however, but stood in the drawing-room window +watching the people pass. Harriet came and worried her to help with the +dusting.</p> + +<p>"Go away, you chattering idiot," said Beth. She had found Harriet out in +many meannesses by this time, and had lost all respect for her. "Don't +you see I'm thinking? If you don't bother me now I'll help you +by-and-by, perhaps."</p> + +<p>On the other side of the road, in the same row as the Benyon +dower-house, but well within sight of the window, was the Mansion-House +Collegiate Day and Boarding School for the Sons of Gentlemen. Beth kept +looking in that direction, and presently the boys came pouring out in +their mortar-boards, and, among them, she soon discovered the one she +was thinking of. She discovered him less by sight than by a strange +sensation in herself, a pleasure which shot through her from top to toe. +For no reason, she stepped back from the window, and looked in the +opposite direction towards the church; but she could see him when he +came bounding past with his satchel of books under his arm, and she also +knew that he saw her. He ran on, however, and going round the corner, +where Orchard Row turned off at an angle out of Orchard Street, was out +of sight in a moment.</p> + +<p>But Beth was satisfied. Indeed she was more than satisfied. She ran into +the kitchen, and astonished Harriet by a burst of hilarious spirits, and +a wild demand for food, for a duster, for a scrubbing-brush. She wanted +to do a lot, and she was hungry.</p> + +<p>"You're fond, ah think," said Harriet dryly.</p> + +<p>"You're fond, too," Beth cried. "We're all fond! The fonder the better! +And I must have something to eat."</p> + +<p>"Well, there's nothing for you but bread."</p> + +<p>"I must have meat," said Beth. "Rob the joint, and I'll not take any at +dinner."</p> + +<p>"Ah'd tak' it w'eniver ah could get it, if ah was you," Harriet advised.</p> + +<p>"If you was or were me, you'd do as I do," said Beth; "and <i>I</i> won't +cheat. If I say I won't take it, I won't. I'm entitled to meat once a +day, and I'll take my share now, please; but I won't take more than my +share." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You'll be 'ungry again by dinner-time."</p> + +<p>"I know," said Beth. "But that won't make any difference."</p> + +<p>She got out the sirloin of beef which was to be roasted for dinner, +deftly cut some slices off it, fried them with some cold potatoes, and +ate them ravenously, helped by Harriet. When dinner-time came Beth was +ravenous again, but she was faithful to her vow, and ate no meat. +Harriet scoffed at her for her scrupulousness.</p> + +<p>The next day, at the same time, Beth was again in the window, waiting +for her boy to come out of the Mansion-House School. When he appeared, +the most delightful thrill shot through her. Her first impulse was to +fly, but she conquered that and waited, watching him. He made straight +for the window, and stopped in a business-like way; and then they +laughed and looked into each other's faces.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing there?" he asked, as if he were accustomed to see +her somewhere else.</p> + +<p>"I live here," she said.</p> + +<p>"I live in Orchard Row, last house," he rejoined.</p> + +<p>"Old Lee's?" Beth inquired.</p> + +<p>"Yes, he's my grandfather. I'm Sammy Lee."</p> + +<p>"He's a licensed victualler, retired," Beth repeated, drawing upon her +excellent verbal memory.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Sammy. "What's yours?"</p> + +<p>"I haven't one."</p> + +<p>"What's your father?"</p> + +<p>"He's dead too."</p> + +<p>"What was he?"</p> + +<p>"He was a gentleman."</p> + +<p>"A retired gentleman?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Beth, "an officer and a gentleman."</p> + +<p>"Oh," said Sammy. "My father's dead too. He was a retired gentleman."</p> + +<p>"What's a retired gentleman?" Beth asked.</p> + +<p>"Don't you know?" Sammy exclaimed. "I thought everybody knew that! When +you make a fortune you retire from business. Then you're a retired +gentleman."</p> + +<p>"But gentlemen don't go into business," Beth objected.</p> + +<p>"What do they do then?" Sammy retorted.</p> + +<p>"They have professions or property."</p> + +<p>"It's all the same," said Sammy.</p> + +<p>"It isn't," Beth contradicted.</p> + +<p>"Yah! <i>you</i> don't know," said Sammy, laughing; and then he ran on, being +late for his dinner.</p> + +<p>The discussion had been carried on with broad smiles, and when he left +her, Beth hugged herself, and glowed again, and was + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> glad in the thought +of him. But it was not his conversation so much as his appearance that +she dwelt upon—his round blue eyes, his bright fair curly hair, his +rosy cheeks. "He is beautiful! he is beautiful!" she exclaimed; then +added upon reflection, "<i>And I never thought a boy beautiful before.</i>"</p> + +<p>The next day she was making rhymes about him in the acting-room, and +forgot the time, so that she missed him in the morning; but when he left +school in the afternoon she was at the window, and she saw him trotting +up the street as hard as his little legs could carry him.</p> + +<p>"Where were you at dinner-time?" he said.</p> + +<p>"How funny!" she exclaimed in surprise and delight.</p> + +<p>"What's funny?" he demanded, looking about him vaguely.</p> + +<p>"You were wanting to see me."</p> + +<p>"Who told you so?" Sammy asked suspiciously.</p> + +<p>"You did yourself just now," Beth answered, her eyes dancing.</p> + +<p>"I didn't."</p> + +<p>"You <i>did</i>, Sammy."</p> + +<p>"You're a liar!" said Sammy Lee.</p> + +<p>"Sammy, that's rude," she exclaimed. "And it's not the way to speak to a +young lady, and I won't have it."</p> + +<p>"Well, but I did <i>not</i> tell you I wanted to see you at dinner-time," +Sammy retorted positively.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you did, stupid," said Beth. "You asked where I was at +dinner-time, and then I knew you had missed me, and you wouldn't have +missed me if you hadn't wanted to see me."</p> + +<p>"But," Sammy repeated with sulky obstinacy, unable to comprehend the +delicate subtilty of Beth's perception,—"But I did not tell you."</p> + +<p>"Didn't you want to see me, then?" Beth said coaxingly, waiving the +other point with tact.</p> + +<p>But Sammy, feeling shy at the question and vaguely aggrieved, looked up +and down the street and kicked the pavement with his heel instead of +answering.</p> + +<p>"I shall go, then," said Beth, after waiting for a little.</p> + +<p>"No, don't," he exclaimed, his countenance clearing. "I want to ask +you—only you put it out of my head—gels do talk so."</p> + +<p>"Gels!" Beth exclaimed derisively. "I happen to be a girl."</p> + +<p>Sammy looked at her with a puzzled expression, and forgot what he was +going to say. She diverted his attention, however, by asking him how old +he was.</p> + +<p>"Eleven," Sammy answered promptly.</p> + +<p>"So am I. When were you eleven?"</p> + +<p>"The twentieth of February." + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, then you're older than me—March, April, May, June—four months. My +birthday's in June. What do you do at school? Let's see your books. I +wish <i>I</i> went to school!"</p> + +<p>"Shu!" said Sammy. "What's the use of sending a gel to school? Gels +can't learn."</p> + +<p>"So Jim says," Beth rejoined with an absence of conviction that roused +Sammy.</p> + +<p>"All boys say so," he declared.</p> + +<p>"All boys are silly," said Beth. "What's the use of saying things? That +doesn't make them true. You're as bad as Jim."</p> + +<p>"Who's Jim?" Sammy interrupted jealously.</p> + +<p>"Jim's my brother."</p> + +<p>Sammy, relieved, kicked his heel on the pavement.</p> + +<p>"Which is tallest?" he asked presently, "you or me?"</p> + +<p>"I'm tallest, I think," Beth answered; "but never mind. You're the +fattest. I've grown long, and you've grown broad."</p> + +<p>"You're mighty sharp," said Sammy.</p> + +<p>"You're mighty blunt," said Beth. "And you'll be mighty late for tea, +too. Look at the church-clock!"</p> + +<p>Sammy glanced up, then fled precipitately; and Beth, turning to leave +the window, discovered Harriet standing in the background, grinning.</p> + +<p>"So you've getten a sweetheart!" she exclaimed. "There's nothing like +beginning early."</p> + +<p>"So you've been listening again," Beth answered hotly. "Bad luck to +you!"</p> + +<p>A few days later Mrs. Caldwell was sitting with Lady Benyon, who was in +the bow-window as usual, looking out.</p> + +<p>"If I am not mistaken," said Lady Benyon suddenly, "there is a crowd +collecting at your house."</p> + +<p>"What! again?" Mrs. Caldwell groaned, jumping up.</p> + +<p>"If I'm not mistaken," Lady Benyon repeated.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell hurried off without even waiting to shake hands. On +getting into the street, however, she was relieved to find that Lady +Benyon had been mistaken. There was no crowd collecting in Orchard +Street, but, as she approached her own house, she became aware of a +small boy at the drawing-room window talking to some one within, whom +she presently discovered to be Beth.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing there, Beth?" she demanded severely. "Who is this +boy?"</p> + +<p>Beth started. "Sammy Lee," she gasped. "Mr. Lee's grandson at the end of +Orchard Row."</p> + +<p>"Why are you talking to him?" her mother asked harshly. "I won't have +you talking to him. Who will you scrape acquaintance + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> with next?" Then +she turned to Sammy, who stood shaking in his shoes, with all the rosy +colour faded from his fair fat cheeks, too frightened to stir. "Go +away," said Mrs. Caldwell, "you've no business here talking to my +daughter, and I won't allow it."</p> + +<p>Sammy sidled off, not daring to turn his back full till he was at a safe +distance, lest he should be seized from behind and shaken. He was not a +heroic figure in retreat, but Beth, in her indignation, noted nothing +but the insult that had been offered him. For several days, when her +mother was out, she watched and waited for him, anxious to atone; but +Sammy kept to the other side of the road, and only cast furtive smiles +at her as he ran by. It never occurred to Beth that he was less valiant +than she was, or less willing to brave danger for her sake than she was +for his. She thought he was keeping away for fear of getting her into +trouble; and she beckoned to him again and again in order to explain +that she did not care; but he only fled the faster. Then Beth wrote him +a note. It was the first she had ever written voluntarily, and she shut +herself up in the acting-room to compose it, in imitation of Aunt Grace +Mary, whose beautiful delicate handwriting she always did her best to +copy—with very indifferent success, however, for the connection between +her hand and her head was imperfect. She could compose verses and +phrases long before she could commit them to paper intelligibly; and it +was not the composition of her note to Sammy that troubled her, but her +bad writing. She made a religious ceremony of the effort, praying +fervently, "Lord, let me write it well." Every day she presented a +miscellaneous collection of petitions to the Lord, offering them up as +the necessity arose, being in constant communication with Him. When she +wanted to go out, she asked for fine weather; when she did not want to +go out, she prayed that it might rain. She begged that she might not be +found out when she went poaching on Uncle James's fields; that she might +be allowed to catch something; that new clothes might be sent her from +somewhere, she felt so ashamed in her dirty old shabby ones. She asked +for boots and shoes and gloves, and for help with her lessons; and, when +she had no special petition to offer, she would ejaculate at intervals, +"Lord, send me good luck!" But, however great the variety of her daily +wants, one prayer went up with the others always, "Lord, let me write +well!" meaning, let me write a good hand; yet her writing did not +improve, and she was much disheartened about it. She took the Lord into +her confidence on the subject very frankly. When she had been naughty, +and was not found out and punished, she thanked Him for His goodness; +but why would He not let her write + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> + well? She asked Him the question +again and again, lifting her grey eyes to the grey sky pathetically; and +all the time, though she never suspected it, she was learning to write +more than well, but in a very different sense of the word.</p> + +<p>Her note to Sammy was as follows:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">Dear Sammy</span> +,—Come and talk to me. +Do not be afrade. I do +not mind rows, being always in them. And she can't do +anything to you. I miss you. I want to tell you things. +Such nice things keep coming to me. They make me feel all +comfortable inside. I looked out of the window in the +dark last night. There was a frost. The sky was dark dark +blue like sailor's suits only bright and the stars looked +like holes bored in the floor of heaven to let the light +through. It was so white and bright it must have been the +light of heaven. I never saw such light on earth. +Sunshine is more buffy. Do come Sammy I want you so Beth. +P.S. I can't stop right yet; but I'm trying. It seems +rather difficult to stop: but nobody can write without +stops. I always look at stops in books when I read but +sometimes you put a coma and sometimes a semicollon. I +expect you know but I don't so you must teach me. Its so +nice writing things down. Come to the back gait tonight. </p></div> + +<p>When the letter was written in queer, crabbed characters, on one side of +a half-sheet of paper, then folded so that she could write the address +on the other side, because she had no envelope—she wondered how she +should get it delivered. There was a coolness between her and Harriet. +Beth resented the coarse insinuation about having a sweetheart, and +shrank from hearing any more remarks of a like nature on the subject. +And she couldn't send the letter by post because she had no stamp. +Should she lay it on his doorstep. No, somebody else might get it. How +then? She was standing on her own doorstep with the letter in her pocket +when she asked herself the question, and just at the moment Sammy +himself appeared, coming back from school. Quick as thought, Beth ran +across the road, whipped out the letter and gave it to him. Sammy stood +still in astonishment with his mouth open, gazing at it when he found it +in his hand, as if he could not imagine how it got there.</p> + +<p>As soon as it was dark, Beth stationed herself at the back gate, which +looked out into Orchard Street, and waited and waited, but Sammy did not +come. He had not been able to get out; that was it—she was sure of it; +yet still she waited, although the evening was very cold. Her mother and +Aunt Victoria had gone to dine with Lady Benyon. She did not know what +Harriet was doing, but she had disposed of Bernadine + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> for some time to +come by lending her her best picture-book to daub with paint; so it was +pretty safe to wait; and at first the hope of seeing Sammy come running +round the corner was pleasure enough. As the time went on, however, she +became impatient, and at last she ventured a little way up the street, +then a little farther, and then she ran on boldly into Orchard Row. As +she approached the Lees' back-gate, she became aware of a round thing +that looked like a cannon-ball glued to the top, and her fond heart +swelled, for she knew it must be Sammy's head.</p> + +<p>"O Sammy! why didn't you come?" she cried.</p> + +<p>"I didn't like," said Sammy.</p> + +<p>"I've been waiting for hours," Beth expostulated with gentle reproach.</p> + +<p>"So have I, and it's cold," said Sammy disconsolately.</p> + +<p>"Come now. She's out," Beth coaxed.</p> + +<p>"So she was the other day," Sammy reminded her.</p> + +<p>"But we'll go into the garden. She can't catch us there. It's too dark."</p> + +<p>Sammy, half persuaded, ventured out from the gateway, then hesitated.</p> + +<p>"But is it <i>very</i> dark?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Not so very, when you're used to it," Beth answered. "But it's nice +when it's dark. You can fancy you see things. Come! run!" She seized his +hand as she spoke, and set off, and Sammy, overborne by the stronger +will, kept pace with her.</p> + +<p>"But I don't want to see things," he protested, trying to hold back when +they came to the dark passage which led into the garden.</p> + +<p>"Don't be a fool, Sammy," said Beth, dragging him on. "I believe you're +a girl."</p> + +<p>"I'm not," said Sammy indignantly.</p> + +<p>"Then come and sit on the see-saw."</p> + +<p>"Oh, have you a see-saw?" he asked, immediately diverted.</p> + +<p>"Yes—this way—under the pear-tree. It's a swing, you know, tied to the +branch, and I put this board across it. I pulled the board up out of the +floor of the wood-house. Do you like see-sawing?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Sammy with animation.</p> + +<p>"Catch hold, then," said Beth, tipping up the board at her end. "What +are you doing, butter-fingers?" she cried, as Sammy failed to catch +hold. "I'm sorry I said you were a girl. You're much too clumsy."</p> + +<p>She held the board until Sammy got astride of it at one end, then she +bestrode it herself at the other, and started it with a + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> vigorous kick +on the ground. Up and down they went, shaking showers of leaves from the +old tree, and an occasional winter pear, which fell with a thud, being +hard and heavy.</p> + +<p>"Golly! this is fine!" Sammy burst out. "I say, Beth, what a jolly sort +of a girl you are!"</p> + +<p>"Do you think so?" said Beth, amply rewarded for all her trouble.</p> + +<p>"Yes. And you <i>can</i> write a letter! My! What a time it must 'a' took +you! But, I say, it's all rot about stops, you know. Stops is things in +books. <i>You'd</i> never learn stops."</p> + +<p>"How do you know?" Beth demanded, bridling.</p> + +<p>"Men write books," said Sammy, proud of his sex, "not women, let alone +gels!"</p> + +<p>"That's all you know about it, then!" cried Beth, better informed. +"Women <i>do</i> write books, and girls too. Jane Austen wrote books, and +Maria Edgeworth wrote books, and Fanny Burney wrote a book when she was +only seventeen, called 'Evelina' and all the great men read it."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Sammy, jeering, "so you're as clever as they are, I suppose!"</p> + +<p>Sammy was up in the air as he spoke; the next moment he came down bump +on the ground.</p> + +<p>"There," said Beth, "that'll teach you. You be rude again if you dare."</p> + +<p>"I'll not come near you again, spit-cat," cried Sammy, picking himself +up.</p> + +<p>"I know you won't," Beth rejoined. "You daren't. You're afraid."</p> + +<p>"Who's afraid?" said Sammy, blustering.</p> + +<p>"Sammy Lee," said Beth. "Oh, Sammy Lee's afraid of me, riding the +see-saw under the tree."</p> + +<p>"I say, Beth," said Sammy, much impressed, "did you make that yourself?"</p> + +<p>"Make what myself? Make you afraid? Yes, I did."</p> + +<p>"No, you didn't," said Sammy, plucking up spirit. "I'm not afraid."</p> + +<p>"Then don't be a fool," said Beth.</p> + +<p>"Fool yourself," Sammy muttered, but not very valiantly.</p> + +<p>The church-clock struck nine. They were standing about, Beth not knowing +what to do next, and Sammy waiting for her to suggest something; and in +the meantime the night became colder and the darkness more intense.</p> + +<p>"I think I'd better take you home," Beth said at last. "Here, give me +your hand."</p> + +<p>She dragged him out of the garden in her impetuous way, and they +scampered off together to Orchard Row, and when they reached + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> the Lees' +house they were so warmed and cheered by the exercise that they parted +from each other in high good-humour.</p> + +<p>"I'll come again," said Sammy.</p> + +<p>"Do!" said Beth, giving him a great push that sent him sprawling up the +passage. This was the kind of attention he understood, so he went to bed +satisfied.</p> + +<p>There was only one great interest in life for the people at Rainharbour. +Their religion gave them but cold comfort; their labour was arduous and +paid them poorly; they had no books, no intellectual pursuits, no games +to take them out of themselves, nothing to expand their hearts as a +community. There were the races, the fair, and the hirings for +excitement, but of pleasure such as satisfies because it is +soul-sustaining and continuous enough to be part of their lives, they +knew nothing. The upper classes were idle, self-satisfied, selfish, and +sensual; the lower were industrious enough, but ignorant, superstitious, +and depressed. The gentry gave themselves airs of superiority, really as +if their characters were as good as their manners; but they did not +impose upon the people, who despised them for their veneer. Each class +displayed its contempt for the other openly when it could safely do so, +but was ready to cringe when it suited its own convenience, the workers +for employment, and the gentry for political purposes. But human beings +are too dependent on each other for such differences to exist without +detriment to the whole community. Society must cohere if it is to +prosper; individuals help themselves most, in the long run, when they +consider each other's interests. At Rainharbour nothing was done to +promote general good fellowship; the kind of Christianity that was +preached there made no mention of the matter, and society was +disintegrated, and would have gone to pieces altogether but for the one +great interest in life—the great primitive interest which consists in +the attraction of sex to sex. The subject of sweethearts was always in +the air. The minds of boys and girls, youths and maidens, men and women +were all full of it; but it was not often openly discussed as a pleasant +topic—in fact, not much mentioned at all except for fault-finding +purposes; for it was the custom to be censorious on the subject, and +naturally those were most so who knew most about it, like the vicar, who +had married four times. He was so rabid that he almost went the length +of denouncing men and maidens by name from the pulpit if he caught them +strolling about together in pairs. His mind was so constituted that he +could not believe their dalliance to be innocent, and yet he did not try +to introduce any other interest or pleasure into their lives to divert +them from the incessant pursuit of each other.</p> + +<p>It was the grown-up people who were so nasty on the subject of +sweethearts; the boys and girls never could understand why. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> Their own +inclination was to go about together openly in the most public places; +that was how they understood sweethearting; part of the pleasure of it +consisted in other people seeing them, and knowing that they were +sweethearts, and smiling upon them sympathetically. This, however, the +grown-up people never did; on the contrary, they frowned and jeered; and +so the boys and girls kept out of their way, and sought secret sympathy +from each other.</p> + +<p>Any little boy at the Mansion-House School who secured a sweetheart +enjoyed a proud distinction, and Sammy soon found that his acquaintance +with Beth placed him in quite an enviable position. He therefore let his +fear of Mrs. Caldwell lapse, and did his best to be seen with Beth as +much as possible. And to her it was a surprise as well as a joy to find +him hanging about, waiting to have a word with her. Her mother's +treatment of her had so damaged her self-respect that she had never +expected anybody to care for her particularly, and Sammy's attentions, +therefore, were peculiarly sweet. She did not consider the position at +all, however. There are subjects about which we think, and subjects upon +which we feel, and the two are quite distinct and different. Beth felt +on the subject of Sammy. The fact of his having a cherubic face made her +feel nice inside her chest—set up a glow there which warmed and +brightened her whole existence—a glow which never flickered day or +night, except in Sammy's presence, when it went out altogether more +often than not; only to revive, however, when the real Sammy had gone +and the ideal Sammy returned to his place in her bosom. For Sammy adored +at a distance and Sammy within range of criticism were two very +different people. Sammy adored at a distance was all-ready response to +Beth's fine flights of imagination; but Sammy on the spot was dull. He +was seldom on the spot, however, so that Beth had ample leisure to live +on her love undisturbed, and her mind became extraordinarily active. +Verse came to her like a recollection. On half-holidays they sometimes +went for a walk together over the wild wide waste of sand when the tide +was out, and she would rhyme to herself the whole time; but she seldom +said anything to Sammy. So long as he was silent he was a source of +inspiration—that is to say, her feeling for him was inspiring; but when +she tried to get anything out of him, they generally squabbled.</p> + +<p>Beth lived her own life at this time almost entirely. Since that +startling threat of rebellion, her mother had been afraid to beat her +lest she should strike back; scolding only made her voluble, and Mrs. +Caldwell never thought of trying to manage her in the only way possible, +by reasoning with her and appealing to her better nature. There was, +therefore, but one thing for her + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> + mother to do in order to preserve her +own dignity, and that was to ignore Beth. Accordingly, when the +perfunctory lessons were over in the morning, Beth had her day to +herself. She began it generally by practising for at least an hour by +the church-clock, and after that she had a variety of pursuits which she +preferred to follow alone if Sammy were at school, because then there +was no one to interrupt her thoughts. When the larder was empty, she +became Loyal Heart the Trapper, and would wander off to Fairholm to set +snares or catapult anything she could get near. The gun she had found +impracticable, because she was certain to have been seen out with it; +her snares, if they were found, were supposed to have been set by +poachers. She herself was known to every one on the estate, and was +therefore sure of respect, no matter who saw her; even Uncle James +himself would have let her alone had they met, as he was of her mother's +opinion, that it was safer to ignore her than to attempt to control her. +The snares, although of the most primitive kind, answered the purpose. +The great difficulty was how to get the game home; but that she also +managed successfully, generally by returning after dark. Her mother, +concluding that she owed whatever came to Aunt Grace Mary's +surreptitious kindness, said nothing on the subject except to Beth, whom +she supposed to be Aunt Grace Mary's agent; but she very much enjoyed +every addition to her monotonous diet, especially when Beth did the +cooking. In fact, had it not been for Loyal Heart, the family would have +pretty nearly starved that winter, because of Jim, who had contracted +debts like a man, which his mother had to pay.</p> + +<p>With regard to Beth's cooking, it is remarkable that, although Mrs. +Caldwell herself had suffered all through her married life for want of +proper training in household matters, she never attempted to have her +own daughters better taught. On the contrary, she had forbidden Beth to +do servant's work, and objected most strongly to her cooking, until she +found how good it was, and even then she thought it due to her position +only to countenance it under protest. The extraordinary inefficiency of +the good-old-fashioned-womanly woman as a wife on a small income, the +silly pretences which showed her want of proper self-respect, and the +ill-adjusted balance of her undeveloped mind which betrayed itself in +petty inconsistencies, fill us with pity and surprise us, yet encourage +us too by proving how right and wise we were to try our own experiments. +If we had listened to advice and done as we were told, the +woman's-sphere-is-home would have been as ugly and comfortless a place +for us to-day as it used to be when Beth was forced by the needs of her +nature to poach for diversion, cook for kindness, and clean, and fight, +and pray, and lie, and love, in her brave struggle against the hard and + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> +stupid conditions of her life—conditions which were not only retarding +the development, but threatening utterly to distort, if not actually to +destroy, all that was best, most beautiful, and most wonderful in her +character.</p> + +<p>Beth rather expected to get into difficulties eventually about the game, +but she calculated that she would have a certain time to run before her +head was snapped off, and during that time her mother would enjoy her +good dinners and be the better for them, and she herself would enjoy the +sport—facts which no amount of anger afterwards could alter. Since Mrs. +Caldwell had washed her hands of Beth, they were beginning to be quite +good friends. Sometimes her mother talked to her just as she would to +anybody else; that is to say, with civility. She would say, "And what +are you going to do to-day, Beth?" quite pleasantly, as though speaking +to another grown-up person; and Beth would answer politely, and tell the +truth if possible, instead of making some sulky evasion, as she had +begun to do when there was no other way of keeping the peace. She was +fearlessly honest by nature, but as she approached maturity, she lost +her nerve for a time, and during that time she lied, on occasion, to +escape a harrowing scene. She always despised herself for it, however, +and therefore, as she grew stronger, she became her natural +straightforward self again, only, if anything, all the more scrupulously +accurate for the degrading experience. For she soon perceived that there +is nothing that damages the character like the habit of untruth; the man +or woman who makes a false excuse has already begun to deteriorate. If a +census could be taken to establish the grounds upon which people are +considered noble or ignoble, we should find it was in exact proportion +to the amount of confidence that can be placed first of all in their +sincerity, and then in their accuracy. Sincerity claims respect for +character, accuracy estimation for ability; no high-minded person was +ever insincere, and no fool was ever accurate.</p> + +<p>When the close season began, Beth left the plantations, and took to +fishing in the sea. She would sit at the end of the pier in fine +weather, baiting her hooks with great fat lob-worms she had dug up out +of the sands at low tide, and watching her lines all by herself; or, if +it were rough, she would fish in the harbour from the steps up against +the wooden jetty, where the sailors hung about all day long with their +hands in their pockets when the boats were in. Some of them would sit +with her, all in a row, fishing too, and they would exchange bait with +her, and give her good advice, while others stood behind looking on and +listening. And as of old in Ireland she had fascinated the folk, so here +again these great simple bearded men listened with wondering interest to +her talk, and never answered at all as if they were + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> speaking to a +child. Beth heard some queer things, sitting down there by the old +wooden jetty, fishing for anything she could catch, and she said some +queer things too when the mood was upon her.</p> + +<p>Sometimes, when she wanted to be alone and think, she would go off to +the rocks that appeared at low-water down behind the south pier, and +fish there. She loved this spot; it was near to nature, yet not remote +from the haunts of man. She sat there one afternoon, holding her line, +and dreamily watching the fishing boats streaming across the bay, with +their brown sails set to catch the fitful breeze which she could see +making cat's-paws on the water far out, but could not feel, being +sheltered from it by the old stone pier. The sea was glassy smooth, and +lapped up the rocks, heaving regularly like the breast of a tranquil +sleeper. Beth gazed at it until she was seized with a great yearning to +lie back on its shining surface and be gently borne away to some bright +eternity, where Sammy would be, and all her other friends. The longing +became imperative. She rose from the rock she was sitting on, she raised +her arms, her eyes were fixed. Then it was as if she had suddenly +awakened. The impulse had passed, but she was all shaken by it, and +shivered as if she were cold.</p> + +<p>Fortunately the fish were biting well that day. She caught two big dabs, +four whitings, a small plaice, and a fine fat sole. The sole was a +prize, indeed, and mamma and Aunt Victoria should have it for dinner. As +she walked home, carrying the fish on a string, she met Sammy.</p> + +<p>"Where did you get those fish?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Caught them," she answered laconically.</p> + +<p>"What! all by yourself? No! I don't believe it."</p> + +<p>"I did, all the same," she answered; "and now I'm going to cook +them—some of them at least."</p> + +<p>"Yourself? Cook them yourself? No!" he cried in admiration. Cooking was +an accomplishment he honoured.</p> + +<p>"If you'll come out after your tea, I'll leave the back-gate ajar, and +you can slip into the wood-house; and I'll bring you a whiting on toast, +all hot and brown."</p> + +<p>With such an inducement, Sammy was in good time. Beth found him sitting +contentedly on a heap of sticks, waiting for the feast. She had brought +the whiting out with a cover over it, hot and brown, as she had +promised; and Sammy's mouth watered when he saw it.</p> + +<p>"What a jolly girl you are, Beth!" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>But Beth was not so much gratified by the praise as she might have been. +The vision and the dream were upon her that evening, her nerves were +overwrought, and she was yearning for + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> an outlet for ideas that +oppressed her. She stood leaning against the door-post, biting a twig; +restless, dissatisfied; but not knowing what she wanted.</p> + +<p>When Sammy had finished the whiting, he remembered Beth, and asked what +she was thinking about.</p> + +<p>"I'm not thinking exactly," she answered, frowning intently in the +effort to find expression for what she had in her consciousness. "Things +come into my mind, but I don't think them, and I can't say them. They +don't come in words. It's more like seeing them, you know, only you +don't see them with your eyes, but with something inside yourself. Do +you know what it is when you are fishing off the rocks, and there is no +breaking of waves, only a rising and falling of the water; and it comes +swelling up about you with a sort of sob that brings with it a whiff of +fresh air every time, and makes you take in your breath with a sort of +sob too, every time—and at last you seem to be the sea, or the sea +seems to be you—it's all one; but you don't think it."</p> + +<p>Sammy looked at her in a blank, bewildered way. "I like it best when you +tell stories, Beth," he said, under the impression that all this +incomprehensible stuff was merely a display for his entertainment. "Come +and sit down beside me and tell stories."</p> + +<p>"Stories don't come to me to-night," said Beth, with a tragic face. "Do +you remember the last time we were on the sands—oh! I keep feeling—it +was all so—<i>peaceful</i>, that was it. I've been wondering ever since what +it was, and that was it—peaceful;</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The quiet people,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The old church steeple;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sandy reaches<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of wreck-strewn beaches—"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"Who made that up?" said Sammy suspiciously.</p> + +<p>"I did," Beth answered offhand. "At least I didn't make it up, it just +came to me. When I make it up it'll most likely be quite different. It's +like the stuff for a dress, you know, when you buy it. You get it made +up, and it's the same stuff, and it's quite different, too, in a way. +You've got it put into shape, and it's good for something."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe you made it up," said Sammy doggedly. "You're stuffing +me, Beth. You're always trying to stuff me."</p> + +<p>Beth, still leaning against the door-post, clasped her hands behind her +head and looked up at the sky. "Things keep coming to me faster than I +can say them to-night," she proceeded, paying no heed to his remark; +"not things about you, though, because nothing goes with Sammy but +jammy, clammy, mammy, + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> + and those aren't nice. I want things to come +about you, but they won't. I tried last night in bed, and what do you +think came again and again?</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Yes, yes, that was his cry,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">While the great clouds went sailing by;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Flashes of crimson on colder sky;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Like the thoughts of a summer's day,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Colour'd by love in a life which else were grey.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>But that isn't you, you know, Sammy. Then when I stopped trying for +something about you, there came such a singing! What was it? It seems to +have gone—and yet it's here, you know, it's all here," she insisted, +with one hand on the top of her head, and the other on her chest, and +her eyes straining; "and yet I can't get it."</p> + +<p>"Beth, don't get on like that," Sammy remonstrated. "You make me feel +all horrid."</p> + +<p>"Make you feel," Beth cried in a deep voice, clenching her fists and +shaking them at him, exasperated because the verses continued to elude +her. "Don't you know what I'm here for? I'm here to make you feel. If +you don't feel what I feel, then you <i>shall</i> feel horrid, if I have to +kill you."</p> + +<p>"Shut up!" said Sammy, beginning to be frightened. "I shall go away if +you don't."</p> + +<p>"Go away, then," said Beth. "You're just an idiot boy, and I'm tired of +you."</p> + +<p>Sammy's blue eyes filled with tears. He got down from the heap of +sticks, intent on making his escape; but Beth changed her mind when she +felt her audience melting away.</p> + +<p>"Where are you going?" she demanded.</p> + +<p>"I'm going home," he said deprecatingly. "I can't stay if you go on in +that fool-fashion."</p> + +<p>"It isn't a fool-fashion," Beth rejoined vehemently. "It's you that's a +fool. I told you so before."</p> + +<p>"If you wasn't a girl, I'd punch your 'ead," said Sammy, half afraid.</p> + +<p>"I believe you!" Beth jeered. "But you're not a girl, anyway." She flew +at him as she spoke, caught him by the collar, kicked his shins, slapped +his face, and drubbed him on the back.</p> + +<p>Sammy, overwhelmed by the sudden onslaught, made no effort to defend +himself, but just wriggled out of her grasp, and ran home, with great +tears streaming down his round red cheeks, and sobs convulsing him.</p> + +<p>Beth's exasperation subsided the moment she was left alone in the +wood-house. She sat down on the sticks, and looked straight before her, +filled with remorse. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What shall I do? What shall I do?" she kept saying to herself. "Oh +dear! oh dear! Sammy! Sammy! He's gone. I've lost him. <i>This is the most +dreadful grief I have ever had in my life.</i>"</p> + +<p>The moment she had articulated this full-blown phrase, she became aware +of its importance. She repeated it to herself, reflected upon it, and +was so impressed by it, that she got up, and went indoors to write it +down. By the time she had found pencil and paper, she was the sad +central figure of a great romance, full of the most melancholy +incidents; in which troubled atmosphere she sat and suffered for the +rest of the evening; but she did not think of Sammy again till she went +to bed. Then, however, she was seized anew with the dread of losing him +for ever, and cried helplessly until she fell asleep.</p> + +<p>For days she mourned for him without daring to go to the window, lest +she should see him pass by on the other side of the road with scorn and +contempt flashing forth from his innocent blue eyes. In the evening, +however, she opened the back-gate, as usual, and waited in the +wood-house; but he never came. And at first she was in despair. Then she +became defiant—she didn't care, not she! Then she grew determined. He'd +have to come back if she chose, she'd make him. But how? Oh, she knew! +She'd just sit still till something came.</p> + +<p>She was sitting on a heap of beech branches opposite the doorway, +picking off the bronze buds and biting them. The blanched skeleton of +Sammy's whiting, sad relic of happier moments, grinned up at her from +the earthen floor. Outside, the old pear-tree on the left, leafless now +and motionless, showed distinctly in silhouette against the night-sky. +Its bare branches made black bars on the face of the bright white moon +which was rising behind it. What a strange thing time is! day and night, +day and night, week and month, spring, summer, autumn, winter, always +coming and going again, while we only come once, go, and return no more. +It was getting on for Christmas now. Another year had nearly gone. The +years slip away steadily—day by day—winter, spring. Winter so cold and +wet; March all clouds and dust—comes in like a lion, goes out like a +lamb; then April is bright.</p> + +<p>The year slips away steadily; slips round the steady year; days come and +go—no, no! Days dawn and disappear, winters and springs—springs, +rings, sings? No, leave that. Winter with cold and rain—pain? March +storms and clouds and pain, till April once again light with it brings.</p> + +<p>Beth jumped down from the beech boughs, ran round to the old wooden +pump, clambered up by it on to the back-kitchen roof, and made for the +acting-room window. It was open, and + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> + she screwed herself in round the +bar and fastened the door. It was quite dark under the sloping roof, but +she found the end of a tallow candle, smuggled up there for the purpose, +lighted it, and stuck it on to the top of the rough deal box which +formed her writing-table. She had a pencil, sundry old envelopes +carefully cut open so as to save as much of the clean space inside as +possible, margins of newspapers, precious but rare half-sheets, and any +other scrap of paper on which she could write, all carefully concealed +in a hole in the roof, from which she tore the whole treasure now in her +haste.</p> + +<p>"Winter, summer, Sammy," she kept saying to herself. "Autumn, +autumn-tinted woods—my king—<i>Ministering Children</i>—ministering—king. +Moon, noon. Story, glory. Ever, never, endeavour. Oh, I can do it! I +can! I can! Slips round the steady year—"</p> + +<p>It took her some days to do it to her satisfaction, but they were days +of delight, for the whole time she felt exactly as she had done when +first she found Sammy. She had the same warm glow in her chest, the same +sort of yearning, half anxious, half pleasant, wholly desirable.</p> + +<p>It was late in the evening when she finished, and she had to put her +work away in a hurry, because her mother sent Harriet to tell her she +must go to bed; but all night long she lay only half asleep, and all the +time conscious of joy to come in the morning.</p> + +<p>She was up early, but had too much self-restraint to go to the +acting-room till lessons were over. She was afraid of being disturbed +and so having her pleasure spoilt. As soon as she could safely lock +herself up, however, she took her treasure out. It was written on the +precious half-sheets in queer little crabbed characters, very +distinctly:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Slips round the steady year,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Days dawn and disappear,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Winters and springs;<br /></span> +<span class="i8">March storms and clouds and rain,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Till April once again<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Light with it brings.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Then comes the summer song,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Birds in the woods prolong<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Day into night.<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Hot after tepid showers<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Beats down this sun of ours,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Upward the radiant flowers<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Look their delight.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">O summer scents at noon!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">O summer nights and moon!<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Season of story.<br /></span> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> +<span class="i8">Labour and love for ever<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Strengthen each hard endeavour,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Now climb we up or never,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Upward to glory!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Winter and summer past,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Autumn has come at last,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Hope in its keeping.<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Beauty of tinted wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Beauty of tranquil mood,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Harvest of earned good<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Ripe for the reaping.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Thus on a torrid day<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Slipped my fond thoughts away,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Book from thy pages.<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Seasons of which I sing,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Are they not like, my king,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Thine own life's minist'ring<br /></span> +<span class="i10">In all its stages?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">First in the spring, I ween,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Were all thy powers foreseen—<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Storms sowed renown.<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Then came thy summer climb,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Then came thy golden-prime,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Then came thy harvest-time,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Bringing thy crown.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>When Beth had read these lines, she doubled the half sheets on which +they were written, and put them in her pocket deliberately. She was +sitting on the acting-room floor at the moment, near the window.</p> + +<p>"Now," she exclaimed, folding her delicate nervous hands on her lap, and +looking up at the strip of sky above her, "now I shall be forgiven!"</p> + +<p>It was dark at this time when the boys left school in the evening, and +Beth stood at the back-gate waiting to waylay Sammy. He came trotting +along by himself, and saw her as he approached, but did not attempt to +escape. On the contrary, he stopped, but he had nothing to say; the +relief of finding her friendly again was too great for words. Had she +looked out, she might have seen him any day since the event, bright-eyed +and rosy-cheeked as usual, prowling about, anxious to obtain a +reassuring smile from her on his way to and from school. It was not +likely that he would lose the credit of being Beth Caldwell's sweetheart +if he could help it, just because she beat him. Already he had suffered +somewhat in prestige because he had not been seen with her so often +lately; and he had been quite as + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> + miserable in his own way, under the +impression that she meant to cast him off, as she had in hers.</p> + +<p>"Come in, Sammy," she cried, catching hold of his hand. "Come in, I've +something to show you; but it's too cold to sit in the wood-house, and +we can't have a light there either. Come up by the pump to the +acting-room. I've fastened the door inside, and nobody can get in. Come! +I'll show you the way."</p> + +<p>Sammy followed her obediently and in silence, although somewhat +suspiciously as usual; but she piloted him safely, and, once in the +acting-room, with the candle lighted, he owned that it was jolly.</p> + +<p>"Sammy, I <i>have</i> been sorry," Beth began. "I've been quite miserable +about—you know what. It was horrid of me."</p> + +<p>"I told you scratch-cats were horrid," said Sammy solemnly.</p> + +<p>"But I've done something to atone," Beth proceeded. "Something came to +me all about you. You shall have it, Sammy, to keep. Just listen, and +I'll read it."</p> + +<p>Sammy listened with his mouth and eyes open, but when she had done he +shook his head. "You didn't make that up yourself," he said decidedly.</p> + +<p>"O Sammy! yes, I did," Beth protested, taken aback and much pained.</p> + +<p>"No, I don't believe you," said Sammy. "You got it out of a book. You're +always trying to stuff me up."</p> + +<p>"I'm not stuffing you, Sammy," said Beth, suddenly flaming. "I made it +myself, every word of it. I tell you it came to me. It's my own. <i>You've +got to believe it.</i>"</p> + +<p>Sammy looked about him. There was no escape by the door, because that +led into the house, and Beth was between him and the window, with her +brown hair dishevelled, and her big eyes burning.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said, a politic desire to conciliate struggling with an +imperative objection to be stuffed, "of course you made it yourself if +you say so. But it's all rot anyway."</p> + +<p>The words slipped out unawares, and the moment he uttered them he ducked +his head: but nothing happened. Then he looked up at Beth, and found her +gazing hard at him, and as she did so the colour gradually left her +cheeks and the light went out of her eyes. Slowly she gathered up her +papers and put them into the hole in the roof. Then she sat on one of +the steps which led down into the room, but she said nothing.</p> + +<p>Sammy sat still in a tremor until the silence became too oppressive to +be borne; then he fidgeted, then he got up, and looked longingly towards +the window.</p> + +<p>"I shall be late," he ventured. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span></p> + +<p>Beth made no sign.</p> + +<p>"When shall I see you again?" he recommenced, deprecatingly. "Will you +be at the back-gate to-morrow?"</p> + +<p>"No," she said shortly. "It's too cold to wait for you."</p> + +<p>"Then how shall I see you?" he asked, with a blank expression.</p> + +<p>Beth reflected. "Oh, just whistle as you pass," she said at last, in an +offhand way, "and I'll come out if I feel inclined."</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>The next evening Mrs. Caldwell was taking her accustomed nap after +dinner in her arm-chair by the fire in the dining-room, and Beth was +sitting at the table dreaming, when she was suddenly startled by a long, +loud, shrill whistle. Another and another of the most piercing quality +followed in quick succession. Swiftly but cautiously she jumped up, and +slipped into the drawing-room, which was all in darkness. There were +outside shutters to the lower windows, but the drawing-room ones were +not closed, so she looked out, and there was Sammy, standing with his +innocent fat face as close to the dining-room shutters as he could hold +it, with his fingers in his mouth, uttering shrill whistles loud and +long and hard and fast enough to rouse the whole neighbourhood. Beth, +impatient of such stupidity, returned to the dining-room and sat down +again, leaving Sammy to his fate.</p> + +<p>Presently Mrs. Caldwell started wide awake.</p> + +<p>"What <i>is</i> that noise, Beth?" she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"It seems to be somebody whistling outside," Beth answered in deep +disgust. Then her exasperation got the better of her self-control, and +she jumped up, and ran out to the kitchen.</p> + +<p>"Harriet," she said between her clenched teeth, "go out and send that +silly fool away."</p> + +<p>Harriet hastened to obey; but at the opening of the front door, Sammy +bolted.</p> + +<p>The next evening he began again, however, as emphatically as before; but +Beth could not stand such imbecility a second time, so she ran out of +the back-gate, and seized Sammy.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing there?" she cried, shaking him.</p> + +<p>"Why, you told me to whistle," Sammy remonstrated, much aggrieved.</p> + +<p>"Did I tell you to whistle like a railway engine?" Beth demanded +scornfully. "You've no sense at all, Sammy. Go away!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, do let's come in, Beth," Sammy pleaded. "I've something to tell +you."</p> + +<p>"What is it?" said Beth ungraciously.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you if you'll let me come in." + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, come then," Beth answered impatiently, and led the way up over +the roof to the acting-room. "What is it?" she again demanded, when she +had lighted a scrap of candle and seated herself on the steps. "I don't +believe it's anything."</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is, so there!" said Sammy triumphantly. "But I'll lay you won't +guess what it is. Mrs. Barnes has got a baby."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Barnes was the wife of the head-master of the Mansion-House School, +and all the little boys, feeling that there was more in the event than +had been explained to them, were vaguely disgusted.</p> + +<p>"I don't call that anything," Beth answered contemptuously. "Lots of +people have babies."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Sammy, "I wouldn't have thought it of him."</p> + +<p>"Thought what of whom?" Beth snapped in a tone which silenced Sammy. He +ventured to laugh, however.</p> + +<p>"Don't laugh in that gigantic way, Sammy," she exclaimed, still more +irritated. "When you throw back your head and open your mouth so wide, I +can see you have no wisdom-teeth."</p> + +<p>"You're always nasty now, Beth," Sammy complained.</p> + +<p>Which was true. Love waning becomes critical. Beth's own feeling for +Sammy had been a strong mental stimulant at first, and, in her enjoyment +of it, she had overlooked all his shortcomings. There was nothing in +him, however, to keep that feeling alive, and it had gradually died of +inanition. His slowness and want of imagination first puzzled and then +provoked her; and, little-boy-like, he had not even been able to respond +to such tenderness as she showed him—not that she had ever showed him +much tenderness, for they were just like boys together. She had kissed +him, however, once or twice, after a quarrel, to make it up; but she did +not like kissing him: little boys are rank. His pretty colouring was all +that he had had to attract her, and that, alas! had lost its charm by +this time. For a little longer she looked out for him and troubled about +him, then let him go gradually—so gradually, that she never knew when +exactly he lapsed from her life altogether.</p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">For</span> two years after Beth was outlawed by +her mother, Great-Aunt Victoria +Bench was her one link with the civilised world. The intimacy had lapsed +a little while Sammy was the prevailing human interest in Beth's life, +but gradually as he ceased to be satisfactory, she returned to the old +lady, and hovered about her, seeking the sustenance for which her poor +little heart ached on + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> + always, and for want of which her busy brain ran +riot; and the old lady, who had not complained of Beth's desertion, +welcomed her back in a way which showed that she had felt it.</p> + +<p>For Great-Aunt Victoria Bench was lonely in the days of her poverty and +obscurity. Since the loss of her money, there had been a great change in +the attitude of most of her friends towards her, and such attentions as +she received were of a very different kind from those to which she had +been accustomed. Mrs. Caldwell had been the most generous to her, for at +the time that she had offered Aunt Victoria a home in her house, she had +not known that the old lady would be able to pay her way at all. +Fortunately Aunt Victoria had enough left for that, but still her +position in Mrs. Caldwell's house was not what it would have been had +she not lost most of her means. Mrs. Caldwell was not aware of the fact, +but her manner had insensibly adjusted itself to Aunt Victoria's altered +circumstances, her care and consideration for her being as much reduced +in amount as her income; and Aunt Victoria felt the difference, but said +nothing. Slowly and painfully she learnt to realise that it was for what +she had had to bestow, and not for what she was, that people used to +care; they had served her as they served their God, in the hope of +reaping a rich reward. Like many other people with certain fine +qualities of their own, Aunt Victoria knew that there was wickedness in +the outside world, but never suspected that her own immediate circle, +the nice people with whom she talked pleasantly every day, could be +tainted; and the awakening to find that her friends cared less +disinterestedly for her than she did for them was a cruel disillusion. +Her first inclination was to fly far from them all, and spend the rest +of her days amongst strangers who could not disappoint her because she +would have nothing to expect of them, and who might perhaps come to care +for her really. Long hours she sat and suffered, shut up in her room, +considering the matter, yearning to go, but restrained by the fear that, +as an old woman, she would be unwelcome everywhere. In Aunt Victoria's +day old people were only too apt to be selfish, tyrannical, narrow, and +ignorant, a terror to their friends; and they were nearly always ill, +the old men from lives of self-indulgence, and the old women from +unwholesome restraint of every kind. Now we are beginning to ask what +becomes of the decrepit old women, there are so few to be seen. This is +the age of youthful grandmothers, capable of enjoying a week of their +lives more than their own grandmothers were able to enjoy the whole of +their declining years; their vitality is so much greater, their +appearance so much better preserved; their knowledge so much more +extensive, their interests so much more varied, and their hearts so much +larger. Aunt Victoria nowadays would have struck out for herself in a +new direction. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> + She would have gone to London, joined a progressive +women's club, made acquaintance with work of some kind or another, and +never known a dull moment; for she would have been a capable woman had +any one of her faculties been cultivated to some useful purpose; but as +it was, she had nothing to fall back upon. She was just like a domestic +animal, like a dog that has become a member of the family, and is +tolerated from habit even after it grows old, and because remarks would +be made if it were put out of the way before its time; and she had been +content with the position so long as much was made of her. Now, however, +all too late, a great yearning had seized upon her for an object in +life, for some pursuit, some interest that would remain to her when +everything else was lost; and she prayed to God earnestly that He would +show her where to go and what to do, or give her something—something +which at last resolved itself into something to live for.</p> + +<p>Then one day there came a little resolute tap at the door, and Beth +walked in without waiting to be asked, and seeing in a moment with that +further faculty of hers into the old lady's heart that it was sad, she +went to her impulsively, and laid her unkempt brown head against her arm +in an awkward caress, which touched the old lady to tears. Beth was +lonely too, thought Aunt Victoria, a strange, lonely little being, +neglected, ill-used, and misunderstood, and the question flashed through +the old lady's mind, if she left the child, what would become of her? +The tangled brown head, warm against her arm, nestled nearer, and Aunt +Victoria patted it protectingly.</p> + +<p>"Do you want anything, Beth?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"No, Aunt Victoria. I just wanted to see you. I was lying on the see-saw +board, looking up through the leaves, and I suddenly got a fancy that +you were here all by yourself, and that you didn't like being all by +yourself. <i>I</i> feel like that sometimes. So I came to see you."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Beth," said Aunt Victoria, with her hand still on Beth's +head as if she were blessing her; and when she had spoken she looked up +through the window, and silently thanked the Lord. This was the sign. He +had committed Beth to her care and affection, and she was not to think +of herself, but of the child, whose need was certainly the greater of +the two.</p> + +<p>"Have you nothing to do, Beth?" she said after a pause.</p> + +<p>"No, Aunt Victoria," Beth answered drearily—"at least there are plenty +of things I could do, but everything I think of makes me shudder. I feel +so sometimes. Do you? There isn't a single thing I want to do to-day. +I've tried one thing after the other, but I can't think about what I'm +doing. Sometimes I like to sit still and do nothing; but to-day I don't +even like that. I think + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> + I should like to be asked to do something. If I +could do something for you now—something to help you——"</p> + +<p>"Well, you can, Beth," Aunt Victoria answered, after sitting rigidly +upright for a moment, blinking rapidly. "Help me to unpick an old gown. +I am going to make another like it, and want it unpicked for a pattern."</p> + +<p>"Can you make a gown?" Beth asked in surprise.</p> + +<p>Aunt Victoria smiled. Then she took down an old black gown that was +hanging behind the door, and handed it to Beth with a pair of sharp +scissors.</p> + +<p>"I'll undo the body part," Beth said, "and that will save your eyes. I +don't think this gown owes you much."</p> + +<p>"I do not understand that expression, Beth," said Aunt Victoria.</p> + +<p>"Don't you," said Beth, working away with the scissors cheerfully. +"Harriet always says that, when she's got all the good there is to be +got out of anything—the dusters, you know, or the dishcloth. I once +did a piece of unpicking like this for mamma, and she didn't explain +properly, or something—at all events, I took out a great deal too much, +so she——"</p> + +<p>"Don't call your mamma 'she.' 'She' is the cat."</p> + +<p>"Mamma, then. Mamma beat me."</p> + +<p>"Don't say she beat you."</p> + +<p>"I said mamma."</p> + +<p>"Well, don't talk about your mamma beating you. That is not a nice thing +to talk about."</p> + +<p>"It's not a nice thing to do either," said Beth judicially. "And I never +used to talk about it; didn't like to, you know. But now +she—mamma—doesn't beat me any more—at least only sometimes when she +forgets."</p> + +<p>"Ah, then, you have been a better girl."</p> + +<p>"No, not better—bigger. You see if I struck her back again she wouldn't +like it."</p> + +<p>"Beth! Beth! strike your mother!"</p> + +<p>"That was the danger," said Beth, in her slow, distinct, imperturbable +way. "One day she made me so angry I very nearly struck her, and I told +her so. That made her look queer, I can tell you. And she's never struck +me since—except in a half-hearted sort of way, or when she forgot, and +that didn't count, of course. But I think I know now how it was she used +to beat me. I did just the same thing myself one day. I beat Sammy——"</p> + +<p>"Who is Sammy?" said Aunt Victoria, looking over her spectacles.</p> + +<p>"Sammy Lee, you know."</p> + +<p>Aunt Victoria recollected, and felt she should improve the + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> occasion, +but was at a loss for a moment what to say. She was anxious above +everything that Beth should talk to her freely, for how could she help +the child if she did not know all she had in her mind? It is upon the +things they are never allowed to mention that children brood +unwholesomely.</p> + +<p>"I thought that you were not allowed to know Sammy Lee," she finally +observed.</p> + +<p>"No more I was," Beth answered casually.</p> + +<p>"Yet you knew him all the same?" Aunt Victoria ventured reproachfully.</p> + +<p>"Aunt Victoria," said Beth, "did the Lord die for Sammy?"</p> + +<p>"Ye—yes," said Aunt Victoria, hesitating, not because she doubted the +fact, but because she did not know what use Beth would make of it.</p> + +<p>"Then why can't <i>I</i> know him?" Beth asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, be—because Sammy does not live as if he were grateful to the +Lord."</p> + +<p>"If he did, would he be a gentleman?" Beth asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes," Aunt Victoria answered decidedly.</p> + +<p>Beth stopped snipping, and looked at her as if she were looking right +through her, and out into the world beyond. Then she pursed up her mouth +and shook her head.</p> + +<p>"That won't hold water," she said. "If a man must live like the Lord to +be a gentleman, what is Uncle James? And if living like the Lord makes a +man a gentleman, why don't we call on old Job Fisher?"</p> + +<p>Aunt Victoria began to fear that the task she had undertaken would prove +too much for her. "It is hard, very hard," she muttered.</p> + +<p>"Well, never mind," said Beth, resuming her work. "When I grow up I mean +to write about things like that. But what were we talking about? Oh, +beating Sammy. I did feel bad after I beat him, and I vowed I'd never do +it again however tiresome he was, and I never did. It makes it easier if +you vow. It's just as if your hands were tied then. I'd like to tell +mamma to try it, only she'd be sure to get waxy. You tell her, Aunt +Victoria."</p> + +<p>Aunt Victoria made some reply which was lost in the noise of vehicles +passing in the street, followed by the tramp of many feet and a great +chattering. An excursion train had just arrived, and the people were +pouring into the place. Beth ran to the window and watched them.</p> + +<p>"More confounded trippers," she ejaculated. "They spoil the summer, +swarming everywhere."</p> + +<p>"Beth, I wish, to please me, you would make another vow. Don't say +'confounded trippers.'" + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span></p> + +<p>"All right, Aunt Victoria. Jim says it. But I know all the bad words in +the language were made for the men. I suppose because they have all the +bad thoughts, and do all the bad things. I shall say 'objectionable +excursionists' in future." She went to the door. "I'm just going to get +something," she said. "You won't go away now, will you? I shall be a +minute or two, but I want you to be here when I come back. I shall be +wild if you're not."</p> + +<p>She banged the door after her and ran downstairs.</p> + +<p>Aunt Victoria looked round the room; it no longer seemed the same place +to her. Beth's cheerful chatter had already driven away the evil spirit +of dejection, and taken the old lady out of herself. Untidy child! She +had left her work on the floor, her scissors on the bed, disarranged the +window-curtain, and upset a chair. If she would not do any more +unpicking when she returned, she must be made to put things straight. +There was one little easy-chair in the room. Aunt Victoria sat down in +it, a great piece of self-indulgence for her at that time of day, folded +her hands, and closed her weary old eyes just to give them a rest, while +a nice little look of content came into her face, which it was good to +see there.</p> + +<p>When she opened her eyes again, Beth was setting a tray on a tiny table +beside her.</p> + +<p>"I think you've been having a nap, Miss Great-Aunt Victoria Bench," she +said. "Now, have some tea! and buttered toast!!"</p> + +<p>"O Beth!" cried the old lady, beaming. "How could you—at this time of +day? Well, to please you. It is quite delicious. So refreshing. What, +another piece of toast! Must I take another?"</p> + +<p>"You must take it all," said Beth. "I made it for you. I do like doing +things for you, Aunt Victoria. It makes me feel nice all over. I'll just +unpick a little more. Then I'll tidy up."</p> + +<p>"You're a good child to think of that," said Aunt Victoria. "I did not +think you would."</p> + +<p>"Didn't you?" said Beth. "How funny! But I like things tidy. I often +tidy up."</p> + +<p>"I—I suppose Harriet says tidy up," the old lady observed gently, not +liking to be censorious at this happy moment of relaxation, but still +anxious to do her duty. Beth understood her perfectly and smiled.</p> + +<p>"I like you to tell me when I say things wrong," she said; "and I like +to know how Harriet talks too. You can't write if you don't know how +every one talks."</p> + +<p>"What are you going to write?" Aunt Victoria asked, taking up another +piece of buttered toast.</p> + +<p>"Oh, books," Beth answered casually. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Write something soul-sustaining then, Beth," said Aunt Victoria. "Try +to make all you say soul-sustaining. And never use a word you would be +ashamed to hear read aloud."</p> + +<p>"You mean like those things they read in church?" said Beth. "I don't +think I ever could use such words. When Mr. Richardson comes close to +them, I get hot all over and hate him. But I promise you, Aunt Victoria, +I will never write anything worse than there is in the Bible. There's a +man called Ruskin who writes very well, they say, and he learnt how to +do it from reading the Bible. His mother taught him when he was a little +boy, just as you taught me. I always read the Bible—search the +Scriptures—every day. You say it's a sacred book, don't you, Aunt +Victoria? Harriet says it's smutty."</p> + +<p>"Says <i>what</i>?" Aunt Victoria exclaimed, sitting bolt upright in her +horror. "What does she mean by such an expression?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, she just means stories like Joseph and Potiphar's wife, David and +Bathsheba, Susanna and the elders."</p> + +<p>"My <i>dear</i> child!" Aunt Victoria gasped.</p> + +<p>"Well, Aunt Victoria, they're all in the Bible, at least Susanna and the +elders isn't. That's in the Apocrypha."</p> + +<p>Aunt Victoria sat silent a considerable time. At last she said solemnly: +"Beth, I want you to promise me one thing solemnly, and that is that all +your life long, whatever may be before you, whatever it may be your lot +to learn, you will pray to God to preserve your purity."</p> + +<p>"What is purity?" said Beth.</p> + +<p>Aunt Victoria hesitated: "It's a condition of the mind which keeps us +from ever doing or saying anything we should be ashamed of," she finally +decided.</p> + +<p>"But what kind of things?" Beth asked.</p> + +<p>Unfortunately Aunt Victoria was not equal to the occasion. She blinked +her eyes very hard, sipped some tea, and left Beth to find out for +herself, according to custom.</p> + +<p>"We must only talk about nice things," she said.</p> + +<p>"Well, I shouldn't care to talk nastily about people as Lady Benyon does +sometimes," Beth rejoined.</p> + +<p>"But, my dear child, that is not a nice thing to say about Lady Benyon."</p> + +<p>"Isn't it?" said Beth, then added: "Oh dear, how funny things are!" +meaning how complicated.</p> + +<p>"Where did you get this tea, Beth?" said Aunt Victoria. "It is very +good, and I feel so much the better for it."</p> + +<p>"I thought you wanted something," said Beth. "Your face went all queer. +That means people want something. I got the tea out of the +store-cupboard. It has a rotten lock. If you shake it, it comes open." + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But what does your mamma say?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, she never notices. Or, if she does, she thinks she left it open +herself. Harriet has a little sometimes. She takes it because she says +mamma should allow her a quarter of a pound of dry tea a week, so it +isn't stealing. And I took it for you because you pay to live here, so +you're entitled to the tea. I don't take it for myself, of course. But +I'm afraid I oughtn't to have told you about Harriet. I'm so sorry. It +slipped out. It wasn't sneaking. But I trust to your honour, Aunt +Victoria. If you sneaked on Harriet, I could never trust you again, now +could I?" She got up as she spoke, folded her work, picked up the chair, +arranged the window-curtain, moved the tray, and put the table back in +its place, at the same time remarking: "I shall take these things +downstairs now, and go for a run."</p> + +<p>She left Aunt Victoria with much to reflect upon. The glimpse she had +accidentally given the old lady of Harriet's turpitude had startled her +considerably. Mrs. Caldwell had always congratulated herself on having +such a quiet respectable person in the house as Harriet to look after +Beth, and now it appeared that the woman was disreputable both in her +habits and her conversation, the very last person whom a girl, even of +such strongly marked individuality as Beth, should have been allowed to +associate with intimately. But what ought Miss Victoria to do? If she +spoke to Mrs. Caldwell, Beth would never forgive her, and the important +thing was not to lose Beth's confidence; but if she did not speak to +Mrs. Caldwell, would she be doing right? Of course, if Mrs. Caldwell had +been a different sort of person, her duty would have been clear and +easy; but as it was, Aunt Victoria decided to wait.</p> + +<p>The next day Beth returned of her own accord to finish the unpicking. +She wanted to know what "soul-sustaining" meant; and in ten minutes she +had cross-questioned Aunt Victoria into such a state of confusion that +the old lady could only sit silently praying to Heaven for guidance. At +last she got up, and took a little packet out of one of her trunks. She +had to live in her boxes because there was no closet or wardrobe or +chest of drawers in the room.</p> + +<p>"See, Beth," she said, "here is some tea and sugar. I don't think it +nice of you to go to your mother's cupboard without her leave. That's +rather a servant's trick, you know, and not honest; so give it up, like +a dear child, and let us have tea together, you and I, up here, when we +want it. I very much enjoy a good cup of tea, it is so refreshing, and +you make it beautifully."</p> + +<p>Beth changed colour and countenance while Aunt Victoria was speaking, +and she sat for some time afterwards looking fixedly at the empty grate; +then she said, "You always tell me + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> + things nicely, Aunt Victoria; that's +what I like about you. I'll not touch the cupboard again, I vow; and if +you catch me at any other 'servant's tricks' just you let me know."</p> + +<p>The old lady's heart glowed. The Lord was showing her how to help the +child.</p> + +<p>But the holidays were coming on; she would have to go away to make room +for the boys; and she dreaded to leave Beth at this critical time, lest +she should relapse, just as she was beginning to form nice feminine +habits. For Beth had taken kindly to the sewing and tea-drinking and +long quiet chats; it was a delight to her to have some one to wait on, +and help, and talk to. "I'm so fond of you, Aunt Victoria," she said one +day; "I even like you to snap at me; and if we lived quite alone +together, you and I, I should do everything for you."</p> + +<p>"Would you like to come away with me these holidays?" said Aunt +Victoria, seized suddenly with a bright idea.</p> + +<p>"Oh, wouldn't I!" said Beth. "But then, the expense!"</p> + +<p>"I think I can manage it, if your mamma has no objection," said Aunt +Victoria, nodding and blinking, and nodding again, as she calculated.</p> + +<p>"I should think mamma would be only too glad to get rid of me," said +Beth hopefully.</p> + +<p>And she was not mistaken.</p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> next few weeks, in their effect upon Beth's character, were among +the most important of her life. She did not know until the day before +where she was to go with Aunt Victoria. It was the habit of the family +to conceal all such arrangements from the children, and indeed from each +other as much as possible. Aunt Victoria observed that Caroline was +singularly reticent, and Mrs. Caldwell complained that Aunt Victoria +made a mystery of everything. It was a hard habit, which robbed Beth of +what would have been so much to her, something to look forward to. Since +she knew that she was to go somewhere, however, she had lived upon the +idea; her imagination had been busy trying to picture the unknown place, +and her mind full of plans for the comfort of Aunt Victoria.</p> + +<p>It was after breakfast one day, while her mother and Aunt Victoria were +still at table, that the announcement was made. "You need not do any +lessons this morning, children," Mrs. Caldwell said. "Beth is going to +Harrowgate with Aunt Victoria to-morrow, and I must see to her things +and get them packed." + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span></p> + +<p>Aunt Victoria looked round at Beth with a carefully restrained smile, +expecting some demonstration of joy. Beth was standing in the window +looking out, and turned with a frown of intentness on her face when her +mother mentioned Harrowgate, as if she were trying to recall something.</p> + +<p>"Harrowgate!" she said slowly. "<i>Harrowgate!</i>"</p> + +<p>"Beth, do not frown so," Mrs. Caldwell exclaimed irritably. "You'll be +all wrinkled before you're twenty."</p> + +<p>Beth gazed at her solemnly without seeing her, then fixed her eyes upon +the ground as if she were perusing it, and began to walk slowly up and +down with her head bent, her hands clasped behind her, her curly brown +hair falling forward over her cheeks, and her lips moving.</p> + +<p>"What is it you're muttering, child?" Aunt Victoria asked.</p> + +<p>"I'm trying to think," Beth rejoined.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"''Twas in the prime of summer time,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">An evening calm and cool....<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<hr class="hr3" /> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"'Two sudden blows with a ragged stick,<br /></span> +<span class="i5">And one with a heavy stone....<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<hr class="hr3" /> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"'And yet I feared him all the more,<br /></span> +<span class="i5">For lying there so still....<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<hr class="hr3" /><br /> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"'I took the dreary body up.'...<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"Ah, I know—I have it!" she exclaimed joyfully, and with a look of +relief; "Harrowgate—Knaresboro'—the cave there——</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"> "'Two stern-faced + men set out from Lynn,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Through the cold and heavy mist;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And Eugene Aram walked between,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">With gyves upon his wrist.'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"My dear child," said Aunt Victoria sternly, "what is it you are trying +to say? and how often are you to be told not to work yourself up into +such a state of excitement about nothing?"</p> + +<p>"Don't you know about Eugene Aram, Aunt Victoria?" Beth rejoined with +concern, as if not to know about Eugene Aram were indeed to have missed +one of the great interests of life. Then she sat down at the table with +her elbows resting on it, and her delicate oval face framed in her +slender hands, and gave Aunt Victoria a graphic sketch of the story from +Bulwer Lytton.</p> + +<p>"Dear me, Caroline," said Aunt Victoria, greatly horrified, "is it +possible that you allow your children to read such books?"</p> + +<p>"I read such books to my children myself when I see fit," + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> Mrs. Caldwell +rejoined. "I may be allowed to judge what is good for them, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Good for them!" Aunt Victoria ejaculated. "Accounts of murder, theft, +and executions!"</p> + +<p>"But why not, Aunt Victoria?" Beth put in. "Why not read about Eugene +Aram as well as about Barabbas?"</p> + +<p>Aunt Victoria looked so shocked, however, at the mention of Barabbas in +this connection, that Beth broke off and hastened to add for the relief +of the old lady's feelings—"Only of course Barabbas was a sacred sort +of thief, and that is different."</p> + +<p>On the journey next day a casual remark let fall by a stranger made a +curious impression upon Beth. They were travelling second-class, and +Aunt Victoria, talking to another lady in the carriage, happened to +mention that Beth was twelve years old. A gentleman, the only other +passenger, who was sitting opposite to Beth, looked up at her over his +newspaper when her age was mentioned, and remarked—"Are you only +twelve? I should have thought you were older. Rather nice-looking too, +only freckled."</p> + +<p>Beth felt her face flush hotly, and then she laughed. "Nice-looking! +Nice-looking!" She repeated the words to herself again and again, and +every time they recurred to her, she lost countenance in spite of +herself, and laughed and flushed, being strangely surprised and pleased.</p> + +<p>It was that remark that first brought home to Beth the fact that she had +a personal appearance at all. Hitherto she had thought very little of +herself. The world without had been, and always would be, much more to +her than the world within. She was not to be one of those narrow, +self-centred, morbid beings whose days are spent in introspection, and +whose powers are wasted in futile efforts to set their own little +peculiarities forth in such a way as to make them seem of consequence. +She never at any time studied her own nature, except as a part of human +nature, and in the hope of finding in herself some clue which would help +her to a sympathetic understanding of other people.</p> + +<p>Great-Aunt Victoria Bench, in these days of her poverty, lodged with an +old servant of the family, who gave her for ten shillings a week a +bedroom at the top of the house, and a little sunny sitting-room on the +ground-floor at the back, looking out into an old-fashioned garden, full +of flowers such as knights in olden times culled for their ladies. The +little sitting-room was furnished with Chippendale chairs, and a little +Chippendale sideboard with drawers, and a bookcase with glass doors +above and a cupboard below, in which Aunt Victoria used to keep her +stores of tea, coffee, sugar, and currants in mustard-tins. Beth heard +with surprise that the hearthrug was one which Aunt Victoria + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> had worked +herself as a present for Prentice when she married. Prentice was now +Mrs. Pearce, but Aunt Victoria always called her Prentice. The hearthrug +was like a Turkey carpet, only softer, deeper, and richer. Aunt Victoria +had sat on Chippendale chairs in her youth, and she was happy amongst +them. When she sat down on one she drew herself up, disdaining the stiff +back and smiled and felt young again, while her memory slipped away to +pleasant days gone by; and Mrs. Pearce would come and talk to her, +standing respectfully, and reminding her of little things which Aunt +Victoria had forgotten, or alluding with mysterious nods and shakings of +the head to other things which Beth was not to hear about. When this +happened Beth always withdrew. She was becoming shy of intruding now, +and delicate about overhearing anything that was not intended for her; +and when she had gone on these occasions, the two old ladies would nod +and smile to each other, Prentice in respectful approval, and Aunt +Victoria in kindly acknowledgment. Prentice wore a cap and front like +Aunt Victoria, but of a subdued brown colour, as became her humble +station.</p> + +<p>Beth took charge of the housekeeping as soon as they arrived, made tea, +arranged the groceries in the cupboard, and put the key in her pocket; +and Aunt Victoria, who was sitting upright on a high Chippendale chair, +knitting, and enjoying the dignity of the old attitude after her +journey, looked on over her spectacles in pleased approval. Before they +went to bed, they read the evening psalms and lessons together in the +sitting-room, and Aunt Victoria read prayers. When they went upstairs +they said their private prayers, kneeling beside the bed, and Aunt +Victoria made Beth wash herself in hot water, and brush her hair for +half-an-hour. Aunt Victoria attributed her own slender, youthful figure +and the delicate texture of her skin to this discipline. She said she +had preserved her figure by never relaxing into languid attitudes, and +her complexion by washing her face in hot water with fine white soap +every night, and in cold water without soap every morning. She did not +take her fastidious appetite into consideration, nor her simple, regular +life, nor the fact that she never touched alcohol in any shape or form, +nor wore a tight or heavy garment, nor lost her self-control for more +than a moment whatever happened, but Beth discovered for herself, as she +grew older, that these and that elevated attitude of mind which is +religion, whatever the form preferred to express it, are essential parts +of the discipline necessary for the preservation of beauty.</p> + +<p>In the morning Beth made breakfast, and when it was over, if crusts had +accumulated in the cupboard, she steeped them in hot milk in a pie-dish, +beat them up with an egg, a little butter, sugar, currants, and candied +peel, and some nutmeg grated, for a + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> + bread-pudding, which Prentice took +out to bake for dinner, remarking regularly that little miss promised to +be helpful, to which Aunt Victoria as regularly responded Yes, she hoped +Miss Beth would become a capable woman some day.</p> + +<p>After breakfast they read the psalms and lessons together, verse by +verse, and had some "good talk," as Beth called it. Then Aunt Victoria +got out an old French grammar and phrase-book, a copy of "Télémaque," +and a pocket-dictionary, treasured possessions which she always carried +about with her, and had a kind of pride in. French had been her +speciality, but these were the only French books she had, and she +certainly never spoke the language. She would have shrunk modestly from +any attempt to do so, thinking such a display almost as objectionable as +singing in a loud professional way instead of quietly, like a well-bred +amateur, and showing a lack of that dignified reserve and general +self-effacement which she considered essential in a gentlewoman.</p> + +<p>But she was anxious that Beth should be educated, and therefore the +books were produced every morning. Mrs. Caldwell had tried in vain to +teach Beth anything by rule, such as grammar. Beth's memory was always +tricky. Anything she cared about she recollected accurately; but +grammar, which had been presented to her not as a means to an end but as +an end in itself, failed to interest her, and if she remembered a rule +she forgot to apply it, until Aunt Victoria set her down to the old +French books, when, simply because the old lady looked pleased if she +knew her lesson and disturbed if she did not, she began at the beginning +of her own accord, and worked with a will—toilsomely at first, but by +degrees with pleasure as she proceeded, and felt for the first time the +joy of mastering a strange tongue.</p> + +<p>"You learnt out of this book when you were a little girl, Aunt Victoria, +didn't you?" she said, looking up on the day of the first lesson. She +was sitting on a high-backed chair at one end of the table, trying to +hold herself as upright as Aunt Victoria, who sat at the other and +opposite end to her, pondering over her knitting. "I suppose you hated +it."</p> + +<p>"No, I did not, Beth," Aunt Victoria answered severely. "I esteemed it a +privilege to be well educated. Our mother could not afford to have us +all instructed in the same accomplishments, and so she allowed us to +choose French, or music, or drawing and painting. <i>I</i> chose French."</p> + +<p>"Then how was it grandmamma learned drawing and painting, and playing, +and everything?" Beth asked. "Mamma knows tunes she composed."</p> + +<p>"Your dear grandmamma was an exceedingly clever girl," + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> Aunt Victoria +answered stiffly, as if Beth had taken a liberty when she asked the +question; "and she was the youngest, and desired to learn all we knew, +so we each did our best to impart our special knowledge to her. <i>I</i> +taught her French."</p> + +<p>"How strange," said Beth; "and out of this very book? And she is dead. +And now you are teaching <i>me</i>."</p> + +<p>The feeling in the child's voice, and the humble emphasis on the pronoun +<i>me</i>, touched the old lady; something familiar too in the tone caused +her to look up quickly and kindly over her spectacles, and it seemed to +her for a moment as if the little, long-lost sister sat opposite to +her—great grey eyes, delicate skin, bright brown hair, expression of +vivid interest, and all.</p> + +<p>"Strange! strange!" she muttered to herself several times.</p> + +<p>"I am supposed to be like grandmamma, am I not?" said Beth, as if she +read her thoughts.</p> + +<p>"You <i>are</i> like her," Aunt Victoria rejoined.</p> + +<p>"But you can be a plain likeness of a good-looking person, I suppose?" +Beth said tentatively.</p> + +<p>"Certainly you can," Miss Victoria answered with decision; and the spark +of pleasure in her own personal appearance, which had recently been +kindled in Beth, instantly flickered and went out.</p> + +<p>Their little sitting-room had a bow-window down to the ground, the front +part of which formed two doors with glass in the upper part and wood +below, leading out into the garden. On fine days they always stood wide +open, and the warm summer air scented with roses streamed in. Both Beth +and Aunt Victoria loved to look out into the garden. From where Beth sat +to do her French at the end of the table, she could see the soft green +turf, a bright flower-border, and an old brick wall, mellowed in tone by +age, behind it; and a little to the left, a high, thick screen of tall +shrubs of many varieties, set so close that all the different shades of +green melted into each other. The irregular roof of a large house, +standing on lower ground than the garden, with quaint gables and old +chimneys, rose above the belt of shrubs; the tiles on it lay in layers +that made Beth think of a wasp's nest, only that they were dark-red +instead of grey; but she loved the colour as it appeared all amongst the +green trees and up against the blue sky. She often wondered what was +going on under that roof, and used to invent stories about it. She did +not write anything in these days, however, but stored up impressions +which were afterwards of inestimable value to her. The smooth grey boles +of the beeches, the green down on the larches, the dark, blue-green +crown which the Scotch fir held up, as if to accentuate the light blue +of the sky, and the wonderful + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> + ruddy-gold tones that shone on its trunk +as the day declined; these things she felt and absorbed rather than saw +and noted, but because she felt them they fired her soul, and resolved +themselves into poetic expression eventually.</p> + +<p>They dined early, and on the hot afternoons they sat and worked together +after dinner, Beth sewing and Aunt Victoria knitting, until it was cool +enough to go out. Aunt Victoria was teaching Beth how to make some new +underclothing for herself, to Beth's great delight. All of her old +things that were not rags were patches, and the shame of having them so +was a continual source of discomfort to her; but Aunt Victoria, when she +discovered the state of Beth's wardrobe, bought some calico out of her +own scanty means, and set her to work. During these long afternoons, +they had many a conversation that Beth recollected with pleasure and +profit. She often amused and interested the old lady; and sometimes she +drew from her a serious reprimand or a solemn lecture, for both of which +she was much the better. Aunt Victoria was severe, but she was +sympathetic, and she was just; she seldom praised, but she showed that +she was satisfied, and that was enough for Beth; and she never scolded +or punished, only spoke seriously when she was displeased, and then Beth +was overwhelmed.</p> + +<p>One very hot day when they were working together, Aunt Victoria sitting +on a high-backed chair with her back to the open doors because the light +was too much for her eyes, and Beth sitting beside her on a lower seat, +but so that she could look up at her, and also out into the garden, it +occurred to her that once on a time, long ago, Aunt Victoria must have +been young, and she tried artfully to find out first, if Aunt Victoria +remembered the fact, and secondly, what little girls were like at that +remote period.</p> + +<p>"Was your mamma like mine, Aunt Victoria?" she asked.</p> + +<p>Aunt Victoria had just made a mistake in her knitting, and answered +shortly: "No, child."</p> + +<p>"When you were all children," Beth pursued, "did you play together?"</p> + +<p>"Not much," Aunt Victoria answered grimly.</p> + +<p>"Did you quarrel?"</p> + +<p>"My dear child! what could put such a notion into your head?"</p> + +<p>"What did you do then?" said Beth. "You couldn't have been all the time +learning to sit upright on a high-backed chair; and I am trying so hard +to think what your home was like. I wish you would tell me."</p> + +<p>"It was not at all like yours," Aunt Victoria replied with emphasis. "We +were most carefully brought up children. Our + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> mother was an admirable +person. She lived by rule. If one of her children was born at night, it +was kept in the house until the morning, and then sent out to nurse +until it was two years old. If it was born by day, it was sent away at +once."</p> + +<p>"And didn't great-grandmamma ever go to see it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course; twice a year."</p> + +<p>"I think," said Beth, reflecting, "I should like to keep my babies at +home. I should want to put their little soft faces against mine, and +kiss them, you know."</p> + +<p>"Your great-grandmamma did her duty," said Aunt Victoria with grim +approval. "She never let any of us loll as you are doing now, Beth. She +made us all sit up, as <i>I</i> always do, and as I am always telling you to +do; and the consequence was our backs grew strong and never ached."</p> + +<p>"And were you happy?" Beth said solemnly.</p> + +<p>Aunt Victoria gazed at her vaguely. She had never asked herself the +question. Then Beth sat with her work on her lap for a little, looking +up at the summer sky. It was an exquisite deep blue just then, with +filmy white clouds drawn up over it like gauze to veil its brightness. +The red roofs and gables and chimneys of the old house below, the +shrubs, the dark Scotch fir, the copper-beech, the limes and the +chestnut stood out clearly silhouetted against it; and Beth felt the +forms and tints and tones of them all, although she was thinking of +something else.</p> + +<p>"Mamma's back is always aching," she observed at last, returning to her +work.</p> + +<p>"Yes, that is because she was not so well brought up as we were," Aunt +Victoria rejoined.</p> + +<p>"<i>She</i> says it is because she had such a lot of children," said Beth. +"Did you ever have any children, Aunt Victoria?"</p> + +<p>Miss Victoria Bench let her knitting fall on her lap—"My—dear—child!" +she gasped, holding up both her hands in horror.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I forgot," said Beth. "Only married ladies have children. Servants +have them, though, sometimes before they are married, Harriet says, and +then they call them bad girls. Grandmamma wasn't as wise as +great-grandmamma, I suppose, but perhaps great-grandmamma had a good +husband. Grandpapa was an awful old rip, you know."</p> + +<p>Aunt Victoria stared at her aghast.</p> + +<p>"He used to drink," Beth proceeded, lowering her voice, and glancing +round mysteriously as the old servants at Fairholm did when they +discussed these things; "and grandmamma couldn't bear his ways or his +language, and used to shut herself up in her own room more and more, and +they never agreed, and at last she went quite mad, so the saying came +true. Did you never hear the + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> + saying? Why, you know her father's crest +was a raven, and grandpapa's crest was a bee, and for generations the +families had lived near each other and never been friends; and it was +said, if the blood of the bees and the ravens were ever put in the same +bowl it wouldn't mingle. Do you say 'if it were,' or 'if it was,' Aunt +Victoria? Mamma says 'if it were.'"</p> + +<p>"<i>We</i> were taught to say 'if it was,'" Aunt Victoria answered stiffly; +"but your mamma may know better."</p> + +<p>Beth thought about this for a minute, then set it aside for further +inquiry, and dispassionately resumed. "That was a mean trick of Uncle +James's, but it was rather clever too; I should never have thought of +it. I mean with the fly, you know. When grandpapa died, Uncle James got +his will and altered it, so that mamma mightn't have any money; and he +put a fly in grandpapa's mouth, and swore that the will was signed by +his hand while there was life in him."</p> + +<p>"My dear child," said Aunt Victoria sharply, "who told you such a +preposterous story?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I heard it about the place," Beth answered casually; "everybody +knows it." She took another needleful of thread, and sewed on steadily +for a little, and Aunt Victoria kept glancing at her meanwhile, with a +very puzzled expression.</p> + +<p>"But what I want to know is <i>why</i> did grandmamma stay with grandpapa if +he were, or was, such a very bad man?" Beth said suddenly.</p> + +<p>"Because it was her duty," said Aunt Victoria.</p> + +<p>"And what was his duty?"</p> + +<p>"I think, Beth," said the old lady, "you have done sewing enough for +this afternoon. Run out into the garden."</p> + +<p>Beth knew that this was only an excuse not to answer her, but she folded +her work up obediently, observing as she did so, however, with decision, +"If <i>I</i> ever have a bad husband, I shall <i>not</i> stay with him, for I +can't see what good comes of it."</p> + +<p>"Your grandmamma had her children to think of," said Aunt Victoria.</p> + +<p>"But what good did she do them?" Beth wanted to know. "She devoted +herself to Uncle James, but she didn't make much of a man of him! And +she had no influence whatever with mamma. Mamma was her father's +favourite, and he taught her to despise grandmamma because she couldn't +hunt, and shrieked if she saw things killed. I think that's silly +myself, but it's better than being hard. Of course mamma is worth a +dozen of Uncle James, but—" Beth shrugged her shoulders, then added +temperately, "You know mamma has her faults, Aunt Victoria, it's no use +denying it. So what good did grandmamma do by staying? She just went mad +and died! If she'd gone + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> + away, and lived as you do, she might have been +alive and well now."</p> + +<p>"Ah, my dear child," said the old lady sorrowfully, "that never could +have been; for I have observed that no woman who marries and becomes a +mother can ever again live happily like a single woman. She has entered +upon a different phase of being, and there is no return for her. There +is a weight of meaning in that expression: 'the ties of home.' It is +'the ties of home' that restrain a loving woman, however much she +suffers; there are the little daily duties that no one but herself can +see to; and there is always some one who would be worse off if she went. +There is habit too; and there are those small possessions, each one with +an association of its own perhaps, that makes it almost a sacred thing; +but above all, there is hope—the hope that matters may mend; and +fear—the fear that once she deserts her post things will go from bad to +worse, and she be to blame. In your grandmamma's day such a thing would +never have been thought of by a good woman; and even now, when there are +women who actually go away and work for themselves, if their homes are +unhappy—" Aunt Victoria pursed up her lips, and shook her head. "It may +be respectable, of course," she concluded magnanimously; "but I cannot +believe it is either right or wise, and certainly it is not loyal."</p> + +<p>"Loyal!" Beth echoed; "that was my father's word to me: 'Be loyal.' +We've got to be loyal to others; but he also said that we must be loyal +to ourselves."</p> + +<p>Aunt Victoria had folded up her knitting, and now rose stiffly, and went +out into the garden with an old parasol, and sat meditating in the sun +on the trunk of a tree that had been cut down. She often sat so under +her parasol, and Beth used to watch her, and wonder what it felt like to +be able to look such a long, long way back, and have so many things to +remember.</p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">Aunt Victoria</span> was surprised herself to find how kindly Beth took to a +regular life, how exact she was in the performance of her little +housekeeping duties, and how punctual in everything; she had never +suspected that Beth's whole leaning was towards law and order, nor +observed that even in her most lawless ways there was a certain system; +that she fished, and poached, and prowled, fought Bernadine, and helped +Harriet, as regularly as she dined, and went to bed. Habits, good or +bad, may be formed in an incredibly short time if they are congenial; +the + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> + saints by nature will pray, and the sinners sin, as soon as the +example is set them; and Beth, accordingly, fell into Aunt Victoria's +dainty fastidious ways, which were the ways of a gentlewoman, at once +and without effort; and ever afterwards was only happy in her domestic +life when she could live by the same rule in an atmosphere of equal +refinement—an honest atmosphere where everything was done thoroughly, +and every word spoken was perfectly sincere. Of course she relapsed many +times—it was her nature to experiment, to wander before she settled, to +see for herself; but it was by intimacy with lower natures that she +learned fully to appreciate the higher; by the effect of bad books upon +her that she learned the value of good ones; by the lowering of her +whole tone which came of countenancing laxity in others, and by the +discomfort and degradation which follow on disorder, that she was +eventually confirmed in her principles. The taste for the higher life, +once implanted, is not to be eradicated; and those who have been +uplifted by the glory of it once will strive to attain to it again, +inevitably.</p> + +<p>It was through the influence of this time that the most charming traits +in Beth's character were finally developed—traits which, but for the +tender discipline of the dear old aunt, might have remained latent for +ever.</p> + +<p>It would be misleading, however, to let it be supposed that Beth's +conduct was altogether satisfactory during this visit. On the contrary, +she gave Miss Victoria many an anxious moment; for although she did all +that the old lady required of her, she did many other things besides, +things required of her by her own temperament only. She had to climb the +great tree at the end of the lawn, for instance, in order to peep into +the nest near the top, and also to see into the demesne beyond the belt +of shrubs, where the red-roofed house stood, peopled now by friends of +her fancy. This would not have been so bad if she had come down safely; +but a branch broke, and she fell and hurt herself, which alarmed Miss +Victoria very much. Then Miss Victoria used to send her on errands to +develop her intelligence; but Beth invariably lost herself at first; if +she only had to turn the corner, she could not find her way back. Aunt +Victoria tried to teach her to note little landmarks in her own mind as +she went along, such as the red pillar-box at the corner of the street +where she was to turn, and the green shutters on the house where she was +to cross; and Beth noticed these and many more things carefully as she +went, and could describe their position accurately afterwards; but, by +the time she turned, the vision and the dream would be upon her as a +rule, and she would walk in a world of fancy, utterly oblivious of red +pillar-boxes, green shutters, or anything else on earth, until she was +brought up wondering by a lamp-post, + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> + tree, or some unoffending person +with whom she had collided in her abstraction; then she would have to +ask her way; but she was slow to find it by direction; and all the time +she was wandering about, Aunt Victoria would be worrying herself with +fears for her safety until she was quite upset.</p> + +<p>Beth was rebellious, too, about some things. There was a grocery shop at +one end of the street, kept by a respectable woman, but Beth refused to +go to it because the respectable woman had a fussy little Pomeranian +dog, and allowed it to lick her hands and face all over, which so +disgusted Beth that she could not eat anything the woman touched. It was +in this shop that Beth picked up the moribund black beetle that kicked +out suddenly, and set up the horror of crawling things from which she +ever afterwards suffered. This was another reason for not going back to +the shop, but Aunt Victoria could not understand it, and insisted on +sending her. Beth was firmly naughty in the matter, however, and would +not go, greatly to the old lady's discomposure.</p> + +<p>One means of torture, unconsciously devised by Aunt Victoria, tried Beth +extremely. Aunt Victoria used to send her to church alone on Sunday +afternoons to hear a certain eloquent preacher, and required her to +repeat the text, and tell her what the whole sermon was about on her +return. Beth did her best, but if she managed to remember the text by +repeating it all the time, she could not attend to the sermon, and if +she attended to the sermon, she invariably forgot the text. It was +another instance of the trickishness of her memory; she could have +remembered both the text and sermon without an effort had she not been +afraid of forgetting them.</p> + +<p>But the thing that gave her aunt most trouble of mind was Beth's habit +of making acquaintance with all kinds of people. It was vain to warn +her, and worse than vain, for the reasons Aunt Victoria gave her for not +knowing people only excited her interest in them, and she would wait +about, watching, to see for herself, studying their habits with the +patient pertinacity of a naturalist. The drawing-room floor was let to a +lady whose husband was at sea, a Mrs. Crome. She was very intimate with +a gentleman who also lodged in the house, a friend of her husband's, she +said, who had promised to look after her during his absence. Their +bedrooms adjoined, and Beth used to see their boots outside their doors +every morning when she went down to breakfast, and wonder why they got +up so late.</p> + +<p>"Out again together nearly all last night," Prentice remarked to Aunt +Victoria one morning; and then they shook their heads, but agreed that +there was nothing to be done. From this and other remarks, however, Beth +gathered that Mrs. Crome was + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> + going to perdition; and from that time she +had a horrid fascination for Beth, who would gaze at her whenever she +had an opportunity, with great solemn eyes dilated, as if she were +learning her by heart—as, indeed, she was—involuntarily, for future +reference; for Mrs. Crome was one of a pronounced type, as Beth learnt +eventually, when she knew the world better, an example which helped her +to recognise other specimens of the kind whenever she met them.</p> + +<p>She scraped acquaintance with Mrs. Crome on the stairs, at last, and was +surprised to find her as kind as could be, and was inclined to argue +from this that Prentice and Aunt Victoria must be mistaken about her. +But one evening Mrs. Crome tempted her into the drawing-room. The +gentleman was there, smoking a cigar and drinking whisky-and-water; and +there was something in the whole aspect and atmosphere of the room that +made Beth feel exceedingly uncomfortable, and wish she was out of it +immediately.</p> + +<p>"Aren't you very dull with that old lady?" said Mrs. Crome. "I suppose +she never takes you to the theatre or anything."</p> + +<p>"No," said Beth; "she does not approve of theatres."</p> + +<p>"Then I suppose she doesn't approve of me?" Mrs. Crome observed +good-naturedly.</p> + +<p>"No," said Beth solemnly; "she does not."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Crome burst out laughing, and so did the gentleman.</p> + +<p>"This is rich, really," he said. "What a quaint little person!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, but she's sweet!" said Mrs. Crome; and then she kissed Beth, and +Beth noticed that she had been eating onions, and for long afterwards +she associated the smell with theatres, frivolous talk, and a +fair-haired woman smiling fatuously on the brink of perdition.</p> + +<p>Aunt Victoria retired early to perform her evening ablutions, and on +this occasion she had gone up just as usual, with a little bell, which +she rang when she was ready for Beth to come. In the midst of the talk +and laughter in the drawing-room the little bell suddenly sounded +emphatically, and Beth fled. She found Aunt Victoria out on the landing +in her petticoat and dressing-jacket, and without her auburn front, a +sign of great perturbation. She had heard Beth's voice in the +drawing-room, and proceeded to admonish her severely. But Beth heard not +a word; for the sight of the old lady's stubbly white hair had plunged +her into a reverie, and already, when the vision and the dream were upon +her, no Indian devotee, absorbed in contemplation, could be less +sensitive to outward impressions than Beth was. Aunt Victoria had to +shake her to rouse her.</p> + +<p>"What are you thinking of, child?" she demanded.</p> + +<p>"Riding to the rescue," Beth answered dreamily. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Don't talk nonsense," said Aunt Victoria. Beth gazed at her with a +blank look. She was saving souls just then, and could attend to nothing +else.</p> + +<p>Beth's terror of the Judgment never returned; but after she had been +away from home a few weeks she began to have another serious trouble +which disturbed her towards evening in the same way. The first symptom +was a curious lapse of memory which worried her a good deal. She could +not remember how much of the garden was to be seen from her mother's +bedroom window at home, and she longed to fly back and settle the +question. Then she became conscious of being surrounded by the country +on every side, and it oppressed her to think of it. She was a sea-child, +living inland for the first time, and there came upon her a great +yearning for the sight and sound of moving waters. She sniffed the +land-breeze, and found it sweet but insipid in her nostrils after the +tonic freshness of the sea-air. She heard the voice of her beloved in +the sough of the wind among the trees, and it made her inexpressibly +melancholy. Her energy began to ebb. She did not care to move about +much, but would sit silently sewing by the hour together, outwardly +calm, inwardly all an ache to go back to the sea. She used to wonder +whether the tide was coming in or going out; wonder if the fish were +biting, how the sands looked, and who was on the pier. She devoured +every scrap of news that came from home in the hope of finding something +to satisfy her longing. Bernadine wrote her an elaborate letter in large +hand, which Beth thought very wonderful; Harriet sent her a letter also, +chiefly composed of moral sentiments copied from the <i>Family Herald</i>, +with a view to producing a favourable impression on Miss Victoria; and +Mrs. Caldwell wrote regularly once a week, a formal duty-letter, but a +joy to Beth, to whom letters of any kind were a new and surprising +experience. She had never expected that any one would write to her; and +in the first flush of her gratitude she responded with enthusiasm, +sending her mother, in particular, long descriptions of her life and +surroundings, which Mrs. Caldwell thought so good she showed them to +everybody. In replying to Beth, however, she expressed no approval or +pleasure; on the contrary, she put Beth to shame by the way she dwelt on +her mistakes in spelling, which effectually checked the outpourings, and +shut Beth up in herself again, so that she mourned the more. During the +day she kept up pretty well, but towards twilight, always her time of +trial, the yearning for home, for mamma, for Harriet, for Bernadine, +began again; the most gloomy fears of what might be happening to them in +her absence possessed her, and she had great difficulty in keeping back +her tears. Aunt Victoria noticed her depression, but mistook it for +fatigue, and + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> + sent her to bed early, which Beth was glad of, because she +wanted to be alone and cry. But one evening, when she was looking +particularly sad, the old lady asked if she did not feel well.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I feel quite well, thank you, Aunt Victoria," Beth answered with a +great sigh; "but I know now what you meant about home-ties. They do pull +strong."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said Aunt Victoria, enlightened; "you are homesick, are you?"</p> + +<p>And from that day forward, when she saw Beth moping, she took her out of +herself by making her discuss the subject, and so relieved her; but Beth +continued to suffer, although less acutely, until her return.</p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rainharbour</span> was not yet deserted by summer visitors, although it was +late in the autumn when Beth and Aunt Victoria returned. It had been +such a lovely season that the holiday people lingered, loath to leave +the freshness of the sea and the freedom of the shore for the stuffy +indoor duties and the conventional restrictions of their town lives.</p> + +<p>On the day of their arrival, Beth looked about her in amaze. She had +experienced such a world of change in herself since she went away, that +she was surprised to find the streets unaltered; and yet, although they +were unaltered, they did not look the same. It was as if the focus of +her eyes had been readjusted so as to make familiar objects seem +strange, and change the perspective of everything; which gave the place +a different air, a look of having been swept and garnished and set in +order like a toy-town. But the people they passed were altogether +unchanged, and this seemed stranger still to Beth. There they had been +all the time, walking about as usual, wearing the same clothes, thinking +the same thoughts; they had had no new experiences, and, what was worse, +they were not only unconscious of any that she might have had, but were +profoundly indifferent; and to Beth, on the threshold of life, all eager +interest in everything, caring greatly to know, and ready to sympathise, +this vision of the self-centred with shrivelled hearts was terrible; it +gave her the sensation of being the one living thing that could feel in +a world of automata moved by machinery.</p> + +<p>Bernadine and her mother had met them at the station, but Beth was so +busy looking about her, collecting impressions, she had hardly a word to +say to either of them. Mrs. Caldwell set this down as another sign of +want of proper affection, but Aunt Victoria grumped that it was nothing +but natural excitement.</p> + +<p>The first thing Beth did after greeting Harriet, who stood + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> smiling at +the door, was to run upstairs to her mother's bedroom to settle the +question of how much of the garden was visible from the window; and then +she rushed on up to the attic, dragged a big box under the skylight in +hot haste, and climbed up on it to look at the sea. It was the one +glimpse of it to be had from the house, just a corner, where the water +washed up against the white cliffs that curved round an angle of the +bay. Beth flung the skylight open, and gazed, then drew in her breath +with a great sigh of satisfaction. The sea! The sea! Even that glimpse +of it was refreshing as a long cool drink to one exhausted by heat and +cruelly athirst.</p> + +<p>While she was away, Beth had made many good resolutions about behaving +herself on her return. Aunt Victoria had talked to her seriously on the +subject. Beth could be good enough when she liked: she did all that her +aunt expected of her; why could she not do all that her mother expected? +Beth promised she would; and was beginning already to keep her promise +faithfully by being as troublesome as possible, which was all that her +mother ever expected of her. Whether or not thoughts are things which +have power to produce effects, there are certainly people who answer to +expectation with fatal facility, and Beth was one of them. Eventually +she resisted with all her own individuality, but at this time she acted +like an instrument played upon by other people's minds. This peculiar +sensitiveness she turned to account in after life, using it as a key to +character; she had merely to make herself passive, when she found +herself reflecting the people with whom she conversed involuntarily; and +not as they appeared on the surface, but as they actually were in their +inmost selves. In her childhood she unconsciously illustrated the +thoughts people had in their minds about her. Aunt Victoria believed in +her and trusted her, and when they were alone together, Beth responded +to her good opinion; Mrs. Caldwell expected her to be nothing but a +worry, and was not disappointed. When Beth was in the same house with +both aunt and mother, she varied, answering to the expectation that +happened to be strongest at the moment. That afternoon Aunt Victoria was +tired after her journey, and did not think of Beth at all; but Mrs. +Caldwell was busy in her own mind anticipating all the trouble she would +have now Beth was back; and Beth, standing on the box under the attic +skylight, with her head out, straining her eyes to seaward, was seized +with a sudden impulse which answered to her mother's expectation. That +first day she ought to have stayed in, unpacked her box, exhibited her +beautiful needlework, got ready for dinner in good time, and proved her +affection for her mother and sister by making herself agreeable to them; +but instead of that, she stole downstairs, slipped out by the back-gate, +and did not return until long after dinner was over. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span></p> + +<p>She did not enjoy the scamper, however. Her home-sickness was gone, but +her depression returned nevertheless, as the day declined, only in +another form. She had still that curious sensation of being the only +living thing in a world of figures moved by mechanism. She stood at the +top of the steps which led down on to the pier, where the sailors +loitered at idle times, and was greeted by those she knew with slow +smiles of recognition; but she had nothing to say to any of them.</p> + +<p>The tide was going out, and had left some of the ships in the harbour +all canted to one side; cobles and pleasure-boats rested in the mud; a +cockle-gatherer was wading about in it with his trousers turned up over +his knees, and his bare legs so thickly coated, it looked as if he had +black leggings on. Beth went to the edge of the pier, and stood for a +few minutes looking down at him. She was facing west, but the sun was +already too low to hurt her eyes. On her right the red-roofed houses +crowded down to the quay irregularly. Fishing-nets were hanging out of +some of the windows. Here and there, down in the harbour, the rich brown +sails had been hoisted on some of the cobles to dry. There were some +yachts at anchor, and Beth looked at them eagerly, hoping to find Count +Bartahlinsky's <i>Seagull</i> amongst them. It was not there; but presently +she became conscious of some one standing beside her, and on looking up +she recognised Black Gard, the Count's confidential man. He was dressed +like the fishermen in drab trousers and a dark blue jersey, but wore a +blue cloth cap, with the name of the yacht on it, instead of a +sou'wester.</p> + +<p>"Has your master returned?" she said.</p> + +<p>"No, miss," he answered. "He's still abroad. He'll be back for the +hunting, though."</p> + +<p>"I doubt it," said Beth, resentful of that vague "abroad," which +absorbed him into itself the greater part of the year. When she had +spoken, she turned her back on Gard and the sunset, and wandered off up +the cliffs. She had noticed a sickly smell coming up from the mud in the +harbour, and wanted to escape from it, but somehow it seemed to +accompany her. It reminded her of something—no, that was not it. What +she was searching about in her mind for was some way, not to name it, +but to express it. She felt there was a formula for it within reach, but +for some time she could not recover it. Then she gave up the attempt, +and immediately afterwards she suddenly said to herself—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">"... the smell of death<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Came reeking from those spicy bowers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And man, the sacrifice of man,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mingled his taint with every breath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upwafted from the innocent flowers."<br /></span> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span></div></div> + +<p>She did not search for any occult meaning in the lines, nor did they +convey anything special to her; but they remained with her for the rest +of the day, haunting her, in among her other thoughts, and forcing +themselves upon her attention with the irritating persistency of a +catchy tune.</p> + +<p>On the cliffs she paused to look about her. It was a desolate scene. The +tide was so far out by this time it looked as if there were more sand +than sea in the bay. The water was the cloudy grey colour of flint, with +white rims where the waves broke on the shore. The sky was low, level, +and dark; where it met the water there was a heavy bank of cloud, from +which an occasional flash of summer lightning, dimmed by daylight, shot +along the horizon. The air was peculiarly clear, so that distant objects +seemed nearer than was natural. The sheltering headland on the left, +which formed the bay, stood out bright white with a crown of vivid green +against the sombre sea and sky; while, on the right, the old grey pier, +which shut in the view in that direction, and the red-roofed houses of +the town crowding down to it, showed details of design and masonry not +generally visible to the naked eye from where Beth stood. There were +neither ships nor boats in the bay; but a few cobles, with their +red-brown sails flapping limp against their masts, rocked lazily at the +harbour-mouth waiting for the tide to rise and float them in. Beth heard +the men on them shouting an occasional remark to one another, and now +and then one of them would sing an uncouth snatch of song, but the +effort was spiritless, and did not last.</p> + +<p>Leaving the harbour behind, Beth walked on towards the headland. +Presently she noticed in front of her the dignified and pathetic figure +of an old man, a Roman Catholic priest, Canon Hunter, who, sacrificing +all worldly ease or chance of advancement, had come to minister to the +neglected fisherfolk on the coast, most of whom were Roman Catholics. He +led the life of a saint amongst them, living in dire poverty, his +congregation being all of the poorest, with the exception of one lady in +the neighbourhood, married to a man whose vices were too expensive to +leave him much to spare for his wife's charities. She managed, however, +to raise enough money for the rent of the top room in the public hall, +which they used as a chapel, and so kept the flickering flame of the old +religion alight in the place; but it was a severe struggle. It was +whispered, indeed, that more of the gentry in the neighbourhood +sympathised with the Catholics than was supposed, and would have helped +them but for the discredit—did help them, in fact, when they dared; but +no one outside the communion knew how true this report might be, and the +fisherfolk loyally held their peace.</p> + +<p>It was natural that Beth as she grew up should be attracted + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> by the +mystery that surrounded the Roman Catholics, and anxious to comprehend +the horror that Protestants had of them. She knew more of them herself +than any of the people whom she heard pass uncharitable strictures upon +them, and knew nothing for which they could justly be blamed. For the +old priest himself she had a great reverence. She had never spoken to +him, but had always felt strongly drawn towards him; and now, when she +overtook him, her impulse was to slip her hand into his, less on her own +account, however, than to show sympathy with him, he seemed so solitary +and so suffering, with his slow step and bent back; and so good, with +his beautiful calm face.</p> + +<p>As she approached, lost in her own thoughts, she gazed up at him +intently.</p> + +<p>"What is it, my child?" he asked, with a kindly smile. "Can I do +anything for you?"</p> + +<p>"I was thinking of the beauty of holiness," Beth answered, and passed +on.</p> + +<p>The old man looked after her, too surprised for the moment to speak, and +by the time he had recovered himself, she had turned a corner and was +out of sight.</p> + +<p>After Beth went home that evening, and had been duly reproached by her +mother for her selfish conduct, she stole upstairs to Aunt Victoria's +room, and found the old lady sitting with her big Bible on her knee, +looking very sad and serious.</p> + +<p>"Beth," she said severely, "have you had any food? It is long past your +dinner-time, and it does not do for young girls to fast too long."</p> + +<p>"I'll go and get something to eat, Aunt Victoria," Beth answered meekly, +overcome by her kindness. "I forgot."</p> + +<p>She went down to the pantry, and found some cold pie, which she took +into the kitchen and ate without appetite.</p> + +<p>The heat was oppressive. All the doors and windows stood wide open, but +there was no air, and wherever Beth went she was haunted by the sickly +smell which she had first perceived coming up from the mud in the +harbour, and by the lines which seemed somehow to account for it:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">"... the smell of death<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Came reeking from those spicy bowers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And man, the sacrifice of man,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mingled his taint with every breath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upwafted from the innocent flowers."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>When she had eaten all she could, she went back to Aunt Victoria.</p> + +<p>"Shall we read the psalms?" she said.</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear," the old lady answered. "I have been waiting for you a long +time, Beth." + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Aunt Victoria, I am very sorry," Beth protested. "I didn't think."</p> + +<p>"Ah, Beth," the old lady said sorrowfully, "how often is that to be your +excuse? You are always thinking, but it is only your own wild fancies +that occupy you. When will you learn to think of others?"</p> + +<p>"I try always," Beth answered sincerely; "but what am I to do when 'wild +fancies' come crowding in spite of me, and all I ought to remember slips +away?"</p> + +<p>"Pray," Aunt Victoria answered austerely. "Prayer shapes a life; and +those lives are the most beautiful which have been shaped by prayer. +Prayer is creative; it transposes intention into action, and makes it +inevitable for us to be and to do more than would be possible by any +other means."</p> + +<p>There was a short silence, and then Miss Victoria began the psalm. It +was a joy to Beth to hear her read, she read so beautifully; and it was +from her that Beth herself acquired the accomplishment, for which she +was afterwards noted. Verse by verse they read the psalms together as a +rule, and Beth was usually attentive; but that evening, before the end, +her attention became distracted by a loud ticking; and the last word was +scarcely pronounced before she exclaimed, looking about her—"Aunt +Victoria, what is that ticking? I see no clock."</p> + +<p>The old lady looked up calmly, but she was very pale. "You do hear it +then?" she replied. "It has been going on all day."</p> + +<p>Beth's heart stood still an instant, and, in spite of the heat, her skin +crisped as if the surface of her body had been suddenly sprayed with +cold water. "The Death Watch!" she ejaculated.</p> + +<p>The ticking stopped a moment as if in answer to the words, and then +began again. A horrible foreboding seized upon Beth.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no—no, not that!" she exclaimed, shuddering; and then, all at +once, she threw herself upon her knees beside Aunt Victoria, clasped her +arms round her, and burst into a tempest of tears and sobs.</p> + +<p>"Beth, Beth, my dear child," the old lady cried in dismay, "control +yourself. It is only a little insect in the wood. It may mean nothing."</p> + +<p>"It does mean something," Beth interrupted vehemently; "I know—I always +know. The smell of death has been about me all the afternoon, but I did +not understand, although the words were in my mouth. When things mean +nothing, they don't make you feel queer—they don't impress you. Nine +times running you may see a solitary crow, or spill the salt, or sit +down thirteen to table, and laugh at all superstitious nonsense; then +the sign was not for you; but the tenth time, something will come over +you, and you won't laugh; then be warned and beware! I sometimes + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> feel +as if I were listening, but not with my ears, and waiting for things to +happen that I know about, but not with my head; and I try always to +understand when I find myself listening, but not with my ears, and +something surely comes; and so also when I am waiting for things to +happen that I know about, but not with my head; they do happen. Only +most of the time I know that something is coming, but I cannot tell what +it is. In order to be able to tell exactly, I have to hold myself in a +certain attitude—not my body, you know, <i>myself</i>—hold myself in +suspense, as it were, or suspend something in myself, stop something, +push something aside—I can't get it into words; I can't always do it; +but when I can, then I know."</p> + +<p>"Who taught you this?" Aunt Victoria asked, as if she were startled.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no one taught me," Beth answered. "I just found myself doing it. +Then I tried to notice how it was done. I wanted to be able to do it +myself when I liked. And it was just as if there were two doors, and one +had to be shut before I could look out of the other—the one that is my +nose and eyes and ears; when that is shut, then I know; I look out of +the other. Do things come to you so, Aunt Victoria?"</p> + +<p>The old lady had taken Beth's hand, and was stroking it and looking at +her very seriously. "No," she said, shaking her head, "no, things do not +come to me like that. But although I have only one set of faculties +myself, my outlook is not so limited by them that I cannot comprehend +the possibility of something beyond. There are written records of people +in olden times who must have possessed some such power—some further +faculty such as you describe. It may be that it lies latent in the whole +race, awaiting favourable conditions to develop itself, and some few +rare beings have come into possession of it already. We are complex +creatures—body, soul, and spirit, says the saint; and there is +spiritual power. Beth, lay hold of that which you perceive in yourself, +cherish it, cultivate it, live the life necessary to develop it; for be +sure it is a great gift—it may be a divine one."</p> + +<p>When the old lady stopped, Beth raised her head and looked about her, as +if she had just awakened from sleep. "What were we talking about before +that?" she said. "Oh, I know—the Death Watch. It has stopped."</p> + +<p>The equinoctial gales set in early that year, and severely. Great seas +washed away the silver sands which had been the delight of the summer +visitors, leaving miles of clay exposed at low water to add to the +desolation of the scene. The bay was full of storm-stayed vessels, all +headed to the wind, close reefed, and straining at their anchors. There +were days when the + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> + steamers had to steam full speed ahead in order to +keep at their berths; and then the big sailing ships would drag their +anchors and come drifting, drifting helplessly towards the shore, and +have to fly before the gale if they could, or take their chance of +stranding if the water were low, or being battered to bits against the +cliffs if the tide were in. Many a time Beth stood among the fishermen +watching, waiting, praying; her whole being centred on some hapless +crew, making for the harbour, but almost certain to be carried past. +There was a chain down the middle of the pier in the winter to prevent +people from being washed off, and she had stood clinging to this, and +seen a great ship, with one ragged sail fluttering from a broken mast, +carried before the wind right on to the pier-head, which it struck with +a crash that displaced great blocks of granite as if they had been +sponge-cakes; and when it struck, the doomed sailors on its decks sent +up an awful shriek, to which those on the pier responded. Then there was +a pause. Beth held her breath and heard nothing; but she saw the ship +slip back, back—down amongst the mountainous waves, which sported with +it once or twice, tossed it up, and sucked it down, tossed it again, +then suddenly engulfed it. On the water afterwards there were ropes and +spars, and dark things bobbing like corks, but she knew they were men in +mortal agony; and she found herself shouting encouragement, telling them +to hold on bravely, help was coming—the lifeboat! the lifeboat! She +joined in the sob of excitement too, and the cheers of relief when it +returned with its crew complete, and five poor wretches rescued—only +five out of fifteen, but still——</p> + +<p>"Blessed be God," said the old priest, "for those whom He has received +into glory; and blessed be His holy name for those whom He deigns to let +live."</p> + +<p>Beth, standing beside him, heard the words, and wonderingly contrasted +him with Parson Richardson, who remained shut up with his fourth wife in +his fat living, making cent. per cent. out of his school, and heedless +of the parish, while one so old and feeble as Canon Hunter stood by his +people at all times, careless of himself, enduring hardship, braving +danger, a man among men in spite of age and weakness, by reason of great +love.</p> + +<p>The pinch of poverty was severely felt again that winter in the Caldwell +household. Beth, who was growing rapidly, became torpid from excessive +self-denial; she tried to do without enough, to make it as if there were +one mouth less to feed, and the privation told upon her; her energy +flagged; when she went out, she found it difficult to drag herself home, +and the exuberant spirit of daring, which found expression in naughty +enterprises, suddenly subsided. She poached on principle still for the +benefit of the family; but the cool confidence born of a sort of inward + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> +certainty, which is a premonition of success, if it is not the power +that compels it, was wanting; and it was as if her own doubts when she +set the snares released the creatures from the fascination that should +have lured them, so that she caught but little. The weather, too, was +very severe; every one in the house, including Beth, was more or less +ill from colds and coughs, and Aunt Victoria suffered especially; but +none of them complained, not even to themselves; they just endured. They +felt for each other, however.</p> + +<p>"Mamma, don't you think Aunt Victoria should have a fire in her room?" +Beth said one day.</p> + +<p>"I do, my dear child," Mrs. Caldwell answered tartly; "but <i>I</i> can't +afford the fuel, and she can't afford it either."</p> + +<p>"I wish I had known that," said Beth. "I wouldn't have let her afford to +take me away in the summer, spending all her money for nothing."</p> + +<p>"What a grateful and gracious child you are!" her mother exclaimed.</p> + +<p>Beth went frowning from the room.</p> + +<p>The snow was several feet deep on the ground already, and was still +falling heavily. Beth put on her things and stole out, her idea being to +gather sticks to make a fire for the old lady; but after a weary trudge +she was obliged to return empty-handed, wet, weary, and disheartened. +The sticks were deep down under the snow; there were none to be seen.</p> + +<p>"O God!" Beth prayed as she stumbled home, raising her pinched face to +the sombre sky, "O God, save Aunt Victoria all suffering. Don't let her +feel the cold, dear Lord, don't let her feel it."</p> + +<p>Aunt Victoria herself was stoical. She came down to breakfast every +morning, and sat up stiffly at the end of the table away from the fire, +her usual seat, eating little, and saying little, but listening with +interest when the others spoke. Beth watched her, waited on her, and lay +awake at night fretting because there was nothing more to be done for +her.</p> + +<p>One stormy night in particular, Beth could not sleep. There was a great +gale blowing. It came in terrific gusts that shook the house, rattled +the windows, and made the woodwork creak; then died away, and was +followed by an interval of comparative quiet, broken by strange, +mysterious sounds, to which Beth listened with strained attention, +unable to account for them. One moment it was as if trailing garments +swept down the narrow stairs, heavy woollen garments that made a soft +sort of muffled sound, but there was no footfall, as of some one +walking. Then there came stifled voices, whisperings, as of people +talking eagerly yet + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> +cautiously. Then there were heavy steps, distinct +yet slow, followed, after an interval, by the tramp of shuffling feet, +like those of people carrying an awkward burden, and stumbling under it. +But always, before Beth could think what the noise meant, the gust came +again, racking her nerves, rattling the windows, making the doors creak; +then dying away, to be followed by more mysterious sounds, but of +another character.</p> + +<p>"If only there were time—if only they would last long enough, I should +know—I should understand," Beth thought, full of foreboding. She was +not frightened, only greatly excited. Something was coming, something +was going to happen, and these were the warnings, of that she was +certain. It was as if she were sensitive to some atmosphere that +surrounds an event and becomes perceptible to those whom it concerns if +they are of the right temperament to receive the impression.</p> + +<p>When the blast struck the house, blotting out the strange sounds which +puzzled Beth, it released her strained attention, and had the effect of +silence upon her after noise. In one of these pauses, she wondered if +her mother and Bernadine, in the next bed, were asleep.</p> + +<p>"Mamma," she said softly, "mamma!" There was no response. The gale +dropped. Then Beth heard some one coughing hard.</p> + +<p>"Mamma," she said again, "mamma!"</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" Mrs. Caldwell answered, awaking with a start.</p> + +<p>"Aunt Victoria is coughing."</p> + +<p>"Well, my dear child, I'm very sorry, but I can't help it; and it is +hardly enough to wake me for," Mrs. Caldwell answered. She settled +herself to sleep again, and the gale raged without; but Beth remained, +resting on her elbow, not listening so much as straining her attention +out into the darkness in an effort to perceive with her further faculty +what was beyond the range of her limited senses.</p> + +<p>"Mamma!" she exclaimed once more, "Aunt Victoria is moaning."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, Beth," Mrs. Caldwell rejoined. "You couldn't possibly hear +her if she were."</p> + +<p>There was another little interval, then Beth jumped out of bed, crying +as she did so, "Mamma, Aunt Victoria is calling me."</p> + +<p>"Beth," Mrs. Caldwell said, rousing herself, and speaking sternly, "get +into bed again directly, and lie down and go to sleep. It is the gale +that is making you so nervous. Put the bed-clothes over your head, and +then you won't hear it."</p> + +<p>Beth had been huddling on the first thing she laid hold of in the dark, +a thick woollen dressing-gown of her mother's, while she was speaking. +"I shall go and see for myself," she replied. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, very well," said Mrs. Caldwell. "It wouldn't be you if you didn't +upset the whole house for your fancies. When you have awakened your +aunt, and spoilt her night for nothing, as you have spoilt mine, you'll +be satisfied."</p> + +<p>Beth opened the door, and stepped down into darkness, unrelieved by the +slightest glimmer of light. She had to descend some steps and go up some +others to get to Aunt Victoria's room; and, after the first step, she +felt as if she were floating in some new element, not moving of her own +accord, but borne along confidently, without seeing and without feeling +her way; and, as she went, she found that the long thick garment she +wore was making the same soft muffled sound she had already heard, and +also that there was no footstep audible.</p> + +<p>She went into Aunt Victoria's room without knocking. It struck Beth as +being intensely cold. A candle was burning on the little table beside +the bed. The old lady was sitting, propped up uncomfortably with two +thin pillows and a hassock. She was breathing with difficulty, and +showed no surprise when she saw Beth enter. Her lips were moving, and +Beth could see she was mumbling something, but she could distinguish no +word until she went quite close, when she heard her say, "Comfort ye, +comfort ye My people," several times.</p> + +<p>"Aunt Victoria, are you ill?" Beth said. The old lady looked at her with +dim eyes, then stretched out her hand to her. Beth clasped it. It was +deadly cold.</p> + +<p>"I shall light the fire," Beth said with determination, "and I shall +make you some tea to ease your cough. You won't mind if I take the +candle a moment to go downstairs and get the things?"</p> + +<p>Beth was practical enough now. The vision and the dream had passed, and +she was wide awake again, using her eyes, and requiring a candle. Before +she went downstairs she fetched extra pillows from the spare room, and +propped Aunt Victoria up more comfortably. Then she set to work to light +the fire, and soon had the kettle boiling. As the room began to warm, +Aunt Victoria revived a little, and smiled on Beth for the first time +with perfect recognition. Beth had made her some tea, and was giving it +to her in spoonfuls.</p> + +<p>"Is that nice?" she said.</p> + +<p>"Delicious," the old lady answered.</p> + +<p>The gale was all on the other side of the house, so that here in front +it was comparatively quiet; besides, the wind was dying away as the day +approached. Beth put the teacup down when Aunt Victoria had taken the +little she could, and sat on the side of the bed, holding the old lady's +hand, and gazing at her intently; and, as she watched, she saw a strange +change come + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> + over her. The darkness was fading from the sky and the +light from Aunt Victoria's face. Beth had seen nothing like this before, +and yet she had no doubt of what was coming. She had known it for days +and days; she seemed to have known it always.</p> + +<p>"Shall I go for mamma?" she asked at last.</p> + +<p>The old lady shook her head.</p> + +<p>Beth felt strangely benumbed. She thought of rousing Harriet to fetch +the doctor, but she could not move. All feeling was suspended except the +sensation of waiting. This lasted awhile, then a lump began to mount in +her throat, and she had to gulp it down several times.</p> + +<p>"Poor little girl," Aunt Victoria muttered, looking at her in her kindly +way. Beth melted. "Oh, what shall I do?" she whimpered, "you have been +so very good to me. You've taught me all the good I know, and I have +done nothing for you—nothing but bother you. But I love you, Aunt +Victoria; stay, do stay. I want to do everything you would like."</p> + +<p>The old lady faintly pressed her hand, then made a last great effort to +speak. "Bless you, Beth, my dear child," she managed to say with great +difficulty. "Be comforted; you have helped me more than you know. In my +sore need, I was not left comfortless. Neither will you be. May the Lord +bless you, and keep you always. Amen."</p> + +<p>Her head sank upon her breast. She seemed to settle down in the bed as +if her weight had suddenly grown greater.</p> + +<p>The sombre dawn had broken by this time, and by its light Beth saw the +shadow of death come creeping over the delicate patient face.</p> + +<p>"Aunt Victoria," she gasped breathlessly, like one in haste to deliver a +message before it is too late, "shall I say '<i>Lift up your heads, O ye +gates?</i>' That was the first thing you taught me."</p> + +<p>The old lady spoke no more, but Beth saw that she understood. The faint +flicker of a smile, a pleased expression, came into her face and settled +there. Beth, feeling the full solemnity of the moment, got down from the +bed, and stood beside it, holding fast still to the kind old hand that +would nevermore caress or help her, as if she could keep the dear one +near her by clinging to her.</p> + +<p>"<i>Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord? or who shall stand in His +holy place?</i>" she began, with a strange vibration in her voice. "<i>He +that hath clean hands, and a pure heart; who hath not lifted up his soul +to vanity; nor sworn deceitfully. He shall receive the blessing from the +Lord, and righteousness from the God of his salvation. Lift up your +heads, O ye gates; and be ye lifted up, ye everlasting doors, and the +King of glory + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> + shall come in.</i>" Beth's voice broke here, but with a +great effort she began again fervently: "<i>Lift up your heads, O ye +gates; even lift them up, ye everlasting doors——"</i></p> + +<p>There she stopped, for at the words the dear good kind old lady, with a +gentle sigh, as of relief, passed from the scene of her sufferings, out +of this interval of time, into the measureless eternity.</p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">Aunt Victoria Bench</span> died of failure of the heart, the medical man +decided; and, he might have added, if the feelings of the family had not +had to be considered, that the disease was accelerated by privation and +cold.</p> + +<p>For days after the event, Beth was not to be roused. She would sit in +the tenantless room by the hour together, with the dear old aunt's great +Bible on her knee open at some favourite passage, thinking of all that +ought to have been done to save her, and suffering the ache and rage of +the helpless who would certainly have done all that could have been done +had they had their way. Again and again her mother fetched her down to +the dining-room where there was a fire, and tried to reason with her, or +scolded her for her persistent grief when reasoning produced no effect.</p> + +<p>"You must begin your lessons again, Beth," she said to her at last one +morning in despair. "Giving you a holiday is doing you no good at all."</p> + +<p>Beth went upstairs without a word, and brought down the old aunt's +French books, and sat at the dining-table with one of them open before +her; but the sight of it recalled the happy summer days in the bright +little parlour looking out on the trees and flowers, and the dear old +lady with her delicate face sitting at the end of the table placidly +knitting while Beth prepared her lesson, and the tears welled up in her +eyes once more, and fell on the yellow pages.</p> + +<p>"Beth," said her mother emphatically, "you must not go on like this. Why +are you so selfish? Don't <i>I</i> feel it too? Yet I control myself."</p> + +<p>"You don't feel it as I do," Beth answered doggedly. "She was not so +much to you when she was here, how can you miss her so much now she has +gone?"</p> + +<p>"But you have others to love," Mrs. Caldwell remonstrated. "She was not +your nearest relation."</p> + +<p>"No, but she was the dearest," Beth replied. "I may have + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> others to +love, but she was the one who loved me. She never said I had no +affection for any one; she never said I was selfish and thought of +nothing but my own interests. If she had to find fault with me, she did +it so that she made me want to be better. She was never unkind, she was +never unjust, and now I've lost her, I have no one."</p> + +<p>"It is your own fault then," said Mrs. Caldwell, apt as usual to say the +kind of thing with which fatuous parents torment the genius-child. "You +are so determined not to be like other people that nobody can stand +you."</p> + +<p>"I am not determined to be unlike other people," Beth exclaimed, turning +crimson with rage and pain. "I want to be like everybody else, and I +<i>am</i> like everybody else. And I am always ready to care for people too, +if they will let me. It isn't my fault if they don't like me."</p> + +<p>"It <i>is</i> your fault," Mrs. Caldwell rejoined. "You have an unhappy knack +of separating yourself from every one. Look at your Uncle James. He can +hardly tolerate you."</p> + +<p>"He's a fool, so that doesn't matter," said Beth, who always dealt +summarily with Uncle James. "I can't tolerate him. But you can't say I +separate myself from Aunt Grace Mary. She likes me, and she's kind; but +she's silly, and when I'm with her any time it makes me yawn. Is <i>that</i> +my fault? And did I separate myself from Kitty? Did I separate myself +from papa? Do I separate myself from Count Bartahlinsky? Have I +separated myself from Aunt Victoria?—and who else is there?"</p> + +<p>"You gave Aunt Victoria plenty of trouble while she was here," Mrs. +Caldwell rejoined drily.</p> + +<p>"Well, that is true, at all events," Beth answered in a broken voice; +and then she bowed her head on the old French grammar, and sobbed as if +her heart would break.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell looked up from her work at her from time to time frowning, +but she was too much ruffled by some of Beth's remarks to say anything +consoling; and Beth, absorbed in her grief, lost all consciousness of +everything outside herself.</p> + +<p>At last, however, a kindly hand was laid on her head, and some one +stroked her hair.</p> + +<p>"That is the way she goes on, and I don't know what to do with her," +Mrs. Caldwell was saying. "Come, Beth, rouse yourself," she added +sharply.</p> + +<p>Beth looked up, and found that it was Aunt Grace Mary who was stroking +her hair.</p> + +<p>"Poor little body!" said Aunt Grace Mary as if she were speaking to an +infant, then added in a sprightly tone: "Come, dear! Come, dear! Wipe +your eyes. Mamma will be here directly—my mamma—and Uncle James, and +Mr. Watson." + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What are they coming for?" said Beth.</p> + +<p>"Oh, <i>your</i> mamma knows," Aunt Grace Mary answered archly. "Mr. Watson +was poor dear Aunt Victoria's lawyer, and he has brought her will, and +is going to read it to us."</p> + +<p>"Am I to be sent out of the room?" Beth asked.</p> + +<p>"Of course," said Mrs. Caldwell. "It isn't a matter for you at all."</p> + +<p>"Everything is a matter for me that concerned Aunt Victoria," Beth +rejoined, "and if Lady Benyon is to be here, <i>I</i> shall stay."</p> + +<p>Before Mrs. Caldwell could reply, Lady Benyon herself was ushered into +the little room with great deference by Uncle James. They were followed +by a little old gentleman dressed in black, with spectacles, and a pair +of badly-fitting black kid gloves. He shook hands with Mrs. Caldwell, +and then with Beth, whom he looked at over his spectacles shrewdly. +Uncle James also shook hands, and kissed his sister. "This is a solemn +occasion," he said, with emotion in his voice. Then he looked at Beth, +and added, "Had she not better go?"</p> + +<p>Beth sat down beside Aunt Grace Mary, with her mouth obstinately set; +and Mrs. Caldwell, afraid of a scene, merely shrugged her shoulders +helplessly. Meanwhile the lawyer was blowing his nose, wiping his +spectacles, taking papers out of a pocket at the back of his frock-coat, +and settling himself at the table.</p> + +<p>"You would like this young lady to retire, I suppose," said Uncle James +blandly.</p> + +<p>"By no means," the little old gentleman answered, looking up at him over +his spectacles, and then at Beth. "By no means; let the young lady +remain."</p> + +<p>Aunt Grace Mary put her arm round Beth. The lawyer broke the seal, +unfolded the will, and remarked by way of preface: "The document is in +the handwriting of the deceased. Ahem!"</p> + +<p>Instantly into every face there came the expression that people wear in +church. Mr. Watson proceeded to read; but in a dry, distinct, +matter-of-fact tone, devoid of all emotion. A lawyer reading a will +aloud is sure of the interest of his audience, and, on this occasion, it +was evident that each member of the little group listened with strained +attention, but with very different feelings. What they gathered was that +Miss Victoria Bench, spinster, being of sound mind, did will and +bequeath everything of which she might die possessed to her beloved +great-niece, Elizabeth Caldwell, commonly called Beth. Should Beth +marry, the money was to be settled upon her for her exclusive use. The +present income from the property, about fifty pounds a year, was to be +devoted to the education of the said Elizabeth Caldwell, commonly called +Beth. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span></p> + +<p>Uncle James's jaw dropped during the reading. "But," he stammered when +it was over, "if the investments recover?"</p> + +<p>"Then Miss Elizabeth Caldwell, commonly called Beth, will have an income +of between six and seven hundred a year, <i>at least</i>," said the lawyer, +smiling.</p> + +<p>Aunt Grace Mary clasped Beth close in a spasm of congratulation. Mrs. +Caldwell burst into tears. Beth herself, with an unmoved countenance, +perceived the disgust of Uncle James, her mother's emotion, and +something like amusement in Lady Benyon's face; and she also perceived, +but at a great distance as it were, that there was a dim prospect of +some change for the better in her life.</p> + +<p>"Poor little body!" said Aunt Grace Mary, caressing her.</p> + +<p>"Rich little body!" said Lady Benyon. "Come and kiss me, Puck, and let +me congratulate you."</p> + +<p>"It is very nice for you, Beth, I am sure," said Mrs. Caldwell +plaintively, holding out her hand to Beth as she passed. Beth accepted +this also as a congratulation, and stooped and kissed her mother. Then +the lawyer got up and shook hands with her, and thereupon Uncle James, +feeling forced for decency's sake to do something, observed pointedly: +"I suppose Miss Victoria Bench was quite sane when she made this +bequest?"</p> + +<p>"I should say that your supposition was correct," said the lawyer. "Miss +Victoria Bench always seemed to me to be an eminently sane person."</p> + +<p>There was no allusion whatever to Uncle James in Aunt Victoria's will. +She thanked her niece, Caroline Caldwell, kindly for the shelter she had +given her in her misfortune, and hoped that by providing for Beth she +would relieve her mother's mind of all anxiety about the child, to whom, +she proceeded to state, she left all she had in proof of the tender +affection she felt for the child, and in return for the disinterested +love and duty she had received from Beth. Aunt Victoria wished Beth to +have her room when she was gone, in order that Beth might, as she grew +up, have proper privacy in her life, with undisturbed leisure for study, +reflection, and prayer. She added that she considered Beth a child of +exceptional temperament, that peculiar care and kindness would be +necessary to develop her character; but Miss Victoria hoped, prayed, and +believed that, with the help of the excellent abilities with which she +had been endowed, Beth would not only work out her own salvation +eventually, but do something notable to the glory of God and for the +good of mankind.</p> + +<p>Beth's heart glowed when she heard this passage, and ever afterwards, +when she recalled it, she felt strangely stimulated.</p> + +<p>After the last solemn words of the will had been read, and the + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> little +scene of congratulation had been enacted, there was a pause in the +proceedings, then Uncle James remarked in his happiest manner: "The +importance which old ladies attach to their little bequests is only to +be equalled by the strength of their sentiments, and the grandeur of the +language in which they are expressed. One would think a principality was +being bequeathed to a princess, instead of a few pounds to an obscure +little girl, to judge by the tone of the whole document. Well, well!"</p> + +<p>Beth looked at him, then drew down the corners of her mouth +impertinently. "There is one thing I can console you with, Uncle James," +she said. "You may be quite sure that when I do come into my kingdom, I +shall carefully conceal the fact that I am any relation of yours."</p> + +<p>Later in the day, Beth found her mother sitting in her accustomed place +by the dining-table, rocking herself sideways over her work, and with a +worried expression of countenance, as if she were uneasy in her mind.</p> + +<p>"Aren't you pleased, mamma," said Beth, "that I should be left the +money?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, of course, my dear child," Mrs. Caldwell rejoined. Her tone +to Beth had altered very much since the morning. Even in a few short +hours Beth had been made to feel that mere money was making her a person +of more importance than she had ever before been considered.</p> + +<p>Her mother had stopped short, but Beth waited, and Mrs. Caldwell +recommenced: "I am delighted on your account. Only, I was just thinking. +The money is of no use to you just now, and it would have made all the +difference to Jim. He ought to be making friends now who will last him +his life and help him on in his career; but he can do nothing without an +allowance, and I cannot make him one. There is no hurry for your +education. In fact, I think it would be better for your health if you +were not taught too much at present. But you shall have your aunt's +room, Beth, to study in if you like. You may even sleep there, although +I shall feel it when you leave mine. It will be breaking up the family. +That remark in the will about proper privacy seems to me great nonsense, +and you know I am not legally bound to give you a room to yourself. +However, it was the dear old lady's last request to me, and that makes +it sacred, so it shall be carried out to the letter. The room is yours, +and I hope you will enjoy your privacy."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I <i>shall</i>," Beth exclaimed with uncomplimentary fervour.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell sighed and sewed on in silence for a little.</p> + +<p>"The dear old lady left you the money because she believed you would do +some good with it," she resumed. "'For the good of mankind.' Those are +her own words. And I do think that is + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> + rather your line, Beth; and what +greater good can you do to begin with than help your brother on in the +world? To spend the money on him instead of on yourself would really be +a fine, unselfish thing to do."</p> + +<p>Beth's great grey eyes dilated; the prospect was alluring. "I suppose +there would not be enough for both of us?" she ventured +tentatively—"enough for me to be taught some <i>few</i> things properly, you +know—English, music, French."</p> + +<p>"On fifty pounds a year, my dear child!" her mother exclaimed +sorrowfully. "Fifty pounds goes no way at all." Beth sighed. "Besides," +Mrs. Caldwell pursued, "<i>I</i> can teach you all these things. You've got +beyond your childish tiresomeness now, and have only to ask, and then I +will tell you all you don't know. It would be a pleasure and an +occupation for me, and indeed, Beth, I have very little pleasure in +life. The days are long and lonely." Beth looked up with sudden +sympathy. "But if you will let me give you the lessons, and earn the +money, I could send it to Jim, and that would comfort me greatly, and +add also to <i>your</i> happiness, I should think."</p> + +<p>It was not in Beth to resist such an appeal. She always forgot herself +at the first symptom of sorrow or suffering in another, and never +considered her own interests if she could help somebody else by +sacrificing them.</p> + +<p>"It <i>would</i> add to my happiness," she answered brightly. "And if you +will just explain to me, mamma, when I don't understand things, I shall +remember all right, and not be a bother to you. Will you be kind to me, +and not scold me, and jeer at me, and make my life a burden to me? When +you do that, I hate you."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell stopped short with her needle up in the air, in the act of +drawing the thread through her work. She was inexpressibly shocked.</p> + +<p>"Hate your mother, Beth!" she gasped.</p> + +<p>"I know it's abominable," said Beth, filled with compunction; "but I +can't help it. It's the devil, I suppose. He gets hold of us both, and +makes you torment me, and makes me—not like you for it."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell quietly resumed her sewing. She was too much startled by +this glimpse of herself from Beth's point of view to say another word on +the subject; and a long silence ensued, during which she saw herself as +a sadly misunderstood mother. She determined, however, to try and manage +Beth on a new principle.</p> + +<p>"I should like to help you to make the best of yourself, Beth," she +burst out again abruptly; "and I think I can. You are a tall girl for +your age, and are beginning to hold yourself + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> well already. Your poor +dear aunt was very particular to teach you that. And you have the +complexion of the Bench family, if you will take care of it. You should +wash your face in buttermilk at night after being out in the sun. I'll +get you some, and I'll get you a parasol for the summer. Your hands are +not nearly so coarse as they used to be, and they would really be quite +nice if you attended to them properly. All your father's people had good +hands and feet. I must see to your gloves and boots. I don't know what +your waist is going to be, but you shall have some good stays. A fine +shape goes a long way. With your prospects you really ought to make a +good match, so do not slouch about any more as if you had no +self-respect at all. You can really do a great deal to make yourself +attractive in appearance. Your Uncle William Caldwell had a very ugly +nose, but he pinched it, and pinched it every day to get it into shape, +until at last he made it quite a good one."</p> + +<p>Bernadine came into the room in time to hear this story, and was so +impressed by it that she tried the same experiment on her own nose +without asking if it were ugly or not, and pinched it and rubbed it so +diligently that by the time it was formed she had thickened it and +changed it from a good ordinary nose into something quite original.</p> + +<p>This was the kind of thing that happened to ladies in the days when true +womanliness consisted in knowing nothing accurately, and always taking +advice. Efforts to improve themselves in some such way were common +enough among marriageable maidens, and their mothers helped them to the +best of their ability with equally happy hints. Because small feet were +a beauty, therefore feet already in perfect proportion must be squeezed +to reduce their size till they were all deformed; and because +slenderness was considered elegant, therefore naturally well-formed +women must compress their bodies till they looked like cylinders or +hour-glasses, and lace till their noses swelled and their hair fell out. +Never having heard of proportion, all their ambition was to reduce +themselves to something less than they were designed to be. Those were +the days when women had "no nonsense about them, sir, I tell you," none +of those new-fangled ideas about education and that.</p> + +<p>It was a new notion to Beth that she could do anything to make herself +attractive, and she took a solemn interest in it. She listened with +absolute faith to all that her mother said on the subject, and +determined to be high-principled and make the most of herself. When her +mother talked to her in this genial friendly way, instead of carping at +her or ignoring her, Beth's heart expanded and she was ready to do +anything to please her. Lessons + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> +on the new method went on without +friction. Beth never suspected that her mother was unequal to the task +of educating her in any true sense of the word; her mother never +suspected it, neither did anybody else; and Beth had it all her own way. +If she were idle, her mother excused her; if she brought a lesson only +half-learnt, her mother prompted her all through; if she asked +questions, her mother answered them pleasantly; so that they got on very +well together, and everybody was satisfied—especially Jim, who was +benefiting by Aunt Victoria's bequest to the extent of being able to +keep up with the best of his bar-loafing acquaintances.</p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV"></a>CHAPTER XXV</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">When</span> she did what Aunt Victoria approved, +Beth felt that she was making +Aunt Victoria happy. Her dead were never far from her, never beyond +recall. She conquered her pride for Aunt Victoria's sake, and began to +go out again with her mother for the morning walk that winter unasked; +but Mrs. Caldwell seemed indifferent to the attention. She let Beth walk +beside her day after day, but remained absorbed in her own reflections, +and made no effort to talk to Beth and take her out of herself; so that +Beth very soon found the duty intolerably irksome. It irritated her, +too, when she caught her mother smiling to herself, and on asking what +was amusing her, Mrs. Caldwell replied, still smiling, "Never <i>you</i> +mind." With Beth's temperament it was not possible that the sense of +duty would long survive such snubs. Gradually she began to wander off by +herself again, leaving her mother pacing up and down the particular +sheltered terrace overlooking the sea on which she always walked at that +hour, and Bernadine playing about the cliffs or the desolate shore.</p> + +<p>The whole place was desolate and melancholy at that time of the year. +The wind-swept streets were generally deserted, and the few people who +ventured out looked cold and miserable in their winter wraps. When a +gleam of sunshine enlivened the sky, the sailors would stand at the top +of the steps that led down on to the pier, with their hands in their +trousers-pockets, chewing tobacco, and straining their eyes out seaward +as if they were watching for something special; and Beth would stand +there among them, and look out too—out, far beyond the range of their +mental vision, eastwards, to summer lands whence the swallows came, +where the soft air was perfumed with flowers, and there was brightness +and warmth and ease, and the sea itself, so full of complaint down below +there, raged no more, neither lamented, + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> but sang. And there Aunt +Victoria would be, sitting somewhere out of doors under the trees, with +good things, books and work and fruit and flowers, piled up on a little +table beside her, and every wish of her heart gratified, looking +serenely happy, and smiling and nodding and beckoning to Beth. But +following fast upon the vision, Aunt Victoria would be beside her in the +bitter wind, wearing her old brown dress with white spots that was far +too thin, and making believe that she did not shiver; then they had +returned from the morning walk, and Aunt Victoria was pausing a moment +at the bottom of the stairs to look up, as if measuring her strength and +the distance, before she took hold of the bannister and began to mount +wearily, but never once trusting herself to glance towards Bernadine and +the bread, lest something should be seen in her face which she chose to +conceal. From that vision Beth would fly down the steps to the sands, +and escape it in a healthy race with the turgid waves that came cresting +in and broke on the barren shore.</p> + +<p>Then one day, suddenly, as it seemed, a bird sang. The winter was over, +spring was upon the land again, and Beth looked up and smiled. The old +pear-tree in the little garden at the back was a white wonder of +blossom, and, in front, in the orchard opposite, the apple-trees blushed +with a tinge of pink. Beth, seeing them one morning very early from her +bed in Aunt Victoria's room, arose at once, rejoicing, and threw the +window wide open. Beth might have used the same word to express the good +and the beautiful, as the Greeks did, so inseparably were the two +associated in her mind. At this stage of her development she felt very +literally—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"> "The heavens are telling the glory of God,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The wonder of His works displays the firmament."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"O Lord, how wondrous are Thy works," she chanted to herself softly, as +she gazed, awe-stricken, at the loveliness of the rose-tinged foam on +the fruit-trees, and her whole being was thrilled with gratitude for the +beauty of earth. She took deep draughts of the sweet morning air, and, +like the Indian devotee, she breathed a sacred word with every breath. +But passive ecstasy was not enough for Beth. Her fine feelings strove +for expression always in some fine act, and as she stood at the window +she made good resolutions. Her life should be ordered to worthy purposes +from morning till night. She would in future begin the day by getting up +to greet the dawn in an ecstasy of devotion. Not a minute later than +daybreak would do for her. All Beth's efforts aimed at an extreme.</p> + +<p>She idled most of that day away in contemplation of her project, and she +was as dilatory and troublesome as she could + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> be, doing nothing she +ought to have done, because her mind was so full of all the things she +was going to do. What she feared was that she would never be able to +wake herself in time, and she went to bed at a preposterously early +hour, and sat long in her night-dress, thinking how to manage it. At +last it occurred to her that if she tied her great toe to the bed-post +with a piece of string, it would give her a jerk when she moved, and so +awake her.</p> + +<p>The contrivance answered only too well. She could not sleep for a long +time, and when at last she dropped off, she was almost immediately +awakened by a pitiless jerk from the string. She had Aunt Victoria's old +watch under her pillow, and lighted a match to see the time. It was only +twelve. When would the day break? She turned, and tossed, and fidgeted. +The string on her toe was very uncomfortable, but nothing would have +induced her to be so weak as to take it off. One, two, three, she heard +the church-clock strike, but it was still pitch dark. Then she dozed off +again, but in a minute, as it seemed to her, she was re-aroused by the +string. She gave a great weary sigh and opened her eyes. It was all grey +daylight in the room.</p> + +<p>Beth was out of bed as soon as she could get the string off her toe. The +water was very cold, and she shivered and yawned and stretched over it, +but washed herself with exaggerated conscientiousness all the same, then +huddled on her clothes, and stood awhile, not knowing quite what to do +next. She had slept with the window open, and now she drew up the blind. +Under the leaden sky the apple-trees showed no tinge of colour, and it +was as if white sheets had been spread out over them for the night. Beth +thought of curl-papers and rooms all covered up from the dust when +Harriet was sweeping, and felt no enthusiasm. She was on the west side +of the house, and could not therefore see the sun rise; but she must see +the sunrise—sunrise—sunrise. She had never seen the sunrise. The sea +was east. It would rise over the sea. The sea at sunrise! The very +thought of it took her breath away. She put on her things and slipped +into the acting-room. Her mother took the front-door key up to her room +with her when she went to bed at night, so that the only way out was by +the acting-room window. Beth swung herself round the bar, crept +cautiously down the tiles to the pump, jumped to the ground, then ran up +the entry, and let herself out by the back-gate into the street. There +she was seized upon by a great feeling of freedom. She threw up her +arms, filled her lungs with a deep breath, and ran. There was not a soul +to be seen. The town was hers!</p> + +<p>She made for a lonely spot on the cliff, where a stream fell in a +cataract on to the sand, and there was a rustic seat with a + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> lovely view +of the bay. Beth dropped on to the seat out of breath and looked +curiously about her. The tide was high. The water, smooth, sullen, +swollen and weary, broke on the shore in waves so small that it seemed +as if the sea, tired of its endless task, were doing dispiritedly as +little as it dared, and murmuring at that. The curving cliffs on the +left looked like white curtains, closely drawn. The low grey sky was +unbroken by cloud or rift except low down on the horizon, where it had +risen like a blind drawn up a little to admit the light. It was a +melancholy prospect, and Beth shivered and sighed in sympathy. Then a +sparrow cheeped somewhere behind her, and another bird in the hedge +softly fluted a little roulade. Beth looked round to see what it was, +and at that moment the light brightened as if it had been suddenly +turned up. She looked at the sea again. The rift in the leaden sky had +lengthened and widened, and the first pale primrose of the dawn showed +beyond. A faint flush followed, and then it seemed as if the night sky +slowly rolled itself up and was put away, leaving a floor of silver, +deepening to lilac, for the first bright beam to disport itself upon. +Then the sea smiled, and the weariness of it, back and forth, back and +forth, passed into animation. Its smooth surface became diapered with +light airs, and moved with a gentle roll. The sullen murmur rose to a +morning song, and a boat with bare mast at anchor in the bay, the only +one in sight, rocked to the tune. A great sea-bird sailed by, gazing +down into the depths with piercing eyes, and a grey gull flew so close +to the water, it seemed as if his wings must dip at every flap. The sky +by this time was all a riot of colour, at which Beth gazed in +admiration, but without rapture. Her intellect acknowledged its +loveliness, but did not delight in it—heart and soul were untouched. +The spirit of the dawn refused to speak to her. She had exhausted +herself in her effort to induce the intoxication of devotion which had +come to her spontaneously the day before. The great spirit does not want +martyrs. Joy in beauty and goodness comes of a pure and tranquil mind, +not of a tortured body. The faces of the holy ones are calm and their +souls serene.</p> + +<p>A little farm-house stood back from the road just behind the seat where +Beth was sitting, and a tall gaunt elderly man, with a beard on his +chin, came out presently and stood staring grimly at the sunrise. Then +he crossed the road deliberately, sat down at the other end of the seat, +and stared at Beth.</p> + +<p>"You're early out," he said at last.</p> + +<p>Beth detected something hostile in the tone, and fixed her big fearless +grey eyes upon him defiantly. "It's a free country," she said.</p> + +<p>"Free or not," he answered drily, "it isn't fit fur no young + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> gell to be +out alone at sechun a time. Ye should be indoors gettin' the breakfast."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," said Beth, "I've no need to get the breakfast."</p> + +<p>"Well, it makes it all the worse," he rejoined; "fur if ye're by way o' +bein' a lady, it not on'y means that ye're out wi' no one to tak' care +of ye, but that ye've niver been taught to tak' care o' yerself. Lady!" +he ejaculated. "Pride and patches! Tak' my advice, <i>lady</i>, go back to +yer bed, get yer meed o' sleep, wak' up refreshed, and set to work."</p> + +<p>He spat on the grass in a self-satisfied way when he had spoken, and +contemplated the sunrise like a man who has done his duty and earned the +right to repose.</p> + +<p>Beth got up and walked home despondently. She climbed in at the +acting-room window, and went to her own room. The sun was shining on the +apple-blossom in the orchard opposite, and she looked for the charm of +yesterday, but finding only the garish commonplace of fruit-trees in +flower with the sun on them, she drew down the blind. Then she took off +her hat and jacket, threw herself on her bed, and fell into a heavy +sleep, with her brow puckered and the corners of her mouth drooping +discontentedly.</p> + +<p>The next night she determined to take her meed of sleep, and did not tie +the string to her toe. It had been a long lonely day, filled with great +dissatisfaction and vague yearnings for companionship; but when she fell +asleep she had a happy dream, so vivid that it seemed more real than +anything she had seen in her morning ramble. It was eight o'clock in the +evening, she dreamt, and there was some one waiting for her under the +pear-tree in the garden. The night air was fresh and fragrant. The +moonlight shone on the white blossoms overhead, which clustered so close +that no ray penetrated to the ground beneath, so that there all was +shadowy, but still she could see that there was some one standing in the +shade, and she knew that he was waiting for her. She had never seen him +before, yet she knew him well and hurried to meet him; and he took her +in his arms and kissed her, and his kisses thrilled her with a thrill +that remained with her for many a day.</p> + +<p>She got up the moment she awoke, and looked about her in a kind of +amaze, for everything she saw was transfigured. It was in herself, +however, that the light burned which made the world so radiant. As the +old apple-trees, warmed by the sun, suddenly blossomed into bridal +beauty in the spring, so, in the silent night, between sundown and +day-dawn, while she slept, yet another petal of her own manifold nature +had unfolded, and in the glow of its loveliness there was nothing of +commonplace aspect; for a new joy in life was hers which helped her to +discover in all things a hitherto unsuspected charm. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span></p> + +<p>Beth's little life had been full of childish irregularities, the little +duties being continually slurred and neglected that the little pleasures +might be indulged in the sooner. She was apt to regard bathing, +hair-brushing, dressing, and lessons as mere hindrances to some of the +particular great businesses of life which specially occupied +her—verse-making, for instance, piano-playing, poaching, or praying, +whichever happened to be the predominant interest of the moment. But +now, on a sudden, the care of her person became of extraordinary +importance. All the hints, good and bad, she had had on the subject +recurred to her, and she began to put them into practice systematically. +She threw the clothes back from her bed to air it the moment she got up, +that it might be fresh and sweet to sleep in. Her little bath had +hitherto been used somewhat irregularly, but now she fetched hot and +cold water for herself, and bathed every day. She brushed her hair +glossy, and tightened her stays to make her waist small, and she was +sorely dissatisfied because her boots did not pinch her feet. She began +to take great care of her hands too, and would do no dusting without +gloves on, or dirty work of any kind that was calculated to injure them. +She used a parasol when she could, and if she got sunburnt bathing or +boating, she washed her face in buttermilk at night, fetched from +Fairholm regularly for the purpose. The minds and habits of the young +are apt to form themselves in this way out of suggestions let fall by +all kinds of people, the worst and most foolish as well as the wisest +and best.</p> + +<p>Beth longed that morning for something new and smart to wear. Her old +black things looked so rusty in the spring sunshine, she could not +satisfy herself with anything she had. All Aunt Victoria's possessions +were hers, and she examined her boxes, looking for something to enliven +her own sombre dress, and found some lace which she turned into a collar +and cuffs and sewed on. When she saw herself in the glass with this +becoming addition to her dress, her face brightened at the effect. She +knew that Aunt Victoria would have been pleased to see her look like +that—she was always pleased when Beth looked well; and now, when Beth +recollected her sympathy, all the great fountain of love in her brimmed +over, and streamed away in happy little waves, to break about the dear +old aunt somewhere on the foreshore of eternity, and to add, perhaps, +who knows how or what to her bliss.</p> + +<p>When Beth went down to breakfast, she was very hungry, but there was +only one little bloater, which must be left for mamma to divide with +Bernadine. There was not much butter either, so Beth took her toast +nearly dry, and her thin coffee with very little milk and no sugar in +it, also for economical reasons; but + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> + the coffee was hot, and she was +happy. Her happiness bubbled up in bright little remarks, which +brightened her mother too.</p> + +<p>"Mamma," said Beth, taking advantage of her mood, "it's a poor heart +that never rejoices. Let's have a holiday, you and I, to celebrate the +summer."</p> + +<p>"But the summer hasn't come," Mrs. Caldwell objected, smiling.</p> + +<p>"But summer is coming, is coming," Beth chanted, "and I want to make a +song about it."</p> + +<p>"<i>You</i> make a song!" Bernadine exclaimed. "Why, you can't spell summer."</p> + +<p>Beth made a face at her. "I know you want a holiday, mamma," she +resumed. "Come, confess! I work you to death. And there's church to-day +at eleven, and I want to go."</p> + +<p>"Well, if you want to go to church," said Mrs. Caldwell, relieved.</p> + +<p>Beth did not wait to hear the end of the sentence.</p> + +<p>She went to the drawing-room first, and sat down at the little rosewood +piano with a volume of Moore's "Lalla Rookh" open before her.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"From the mountain's warbling fount I come,"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>she chanted, with her eyes fixed on the words, but she played as if she +were reading notes. She wove all the poems she loved to music in this +way, and played and sang them softly to herself by the hour together.</p> + +<p>The Lenten service in the church at the end of the road was but poorly +attended. There were not more than a dozen people present; but Beth, +seated beside the door, enjoyed it. She was all fervour now, and every +emotional exercise was a pleasure.</p> + +<p>After the service she strolled down the quaintly irregular front street, +which was all red brick houses with small window-panes, three to the +width of the window, except where an aspiring tradesman had introduced +plate-glass and a vulgar disguise of stucco, which converted the +warm-toned bricks into commonplace colourless greyness. It was on one +side of this street that the principal shops were, and Beth stood for +some time gazing at a print in a stationer's window—a lovely little +composition of waves lapping in gently towards a sheltered nook on a +sandy beach. Beth, wafted there instantly, heard the dreamy murmur and +felt the delicious freshness of the sea, yet the picture did not satisfy +her.</p> + +<p>"I should want somebody," she broke out in herself. "I should want +somebody—somebody to lay my head against. Ah, dear Lord, how I hate to +be alone!"</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span></p> +<p>Old Lady Benyon, at her post of observation in the big bow-window at +the top of the street, saw Beth standing there, and speculated. +"Gracious, how that child grows!" she exclaimed. "She'll be a woman +directly."</p> + +<p>As Beth went on down the street, she began to suffer from that dull +irresolute feeling which comes of a want of purpose. She wanted a +companion and she wanted an object. Presently she met a young man who +looked at her intently as they approached each other, and as he looked +his face brightened. Beth's pulse quickened pleasurably and her colour +rose. Her steps became buoyant. She held up her head and glowed with +animation, but was unaware of the source of this sudden happy stimulant, +nor did she try to discover it. She was living her experiences then, +by-and-by she would reflect upon them, then inevitably she would +reproduce them, and all without intention. As the sun rises, as the +birds build, so would she work when the right time came. Talent may +manufacture to order, but works of genius are the outcome of an +irresistible impulse, a craving to express something for its own sake +and the pleasure of expressing it, with no thought of anything beyond. +It is talent that thinks first of all of applause and profits, and only +works to secure them—works for the result, for the end in view—never +for love of the work.</p> + +<p>Beth's heart had no satisfaction at home; she had no friend of her own +sex to fill it as most girls have, and a nature like hers, rich in every +healthy possibility, was bound to crave for love early. It was all very +well for her mother and society as it is constituted to ignore the needs +of nature; by Beth herself they would not be ignored. In most people, +whether the senses or the intellect will have the upper-hand is very +much a matter of early training.</p> + +<p>Because she was a girl, Beth's intellect had been left to stagnate for +want of proper occupation or to run riot in any vain pursuit she might +happen upon by accident, while her senses were allowed to have their +way, unrestrained by any but the vaguest principles. Thanks to her free +roving outdoor habits, her life was healthy if it were not happy, and +she promised to mature early. Youth and sex already began to hang out +their signals—clear skin, slim figure, light step, white teeth, thick +hair, bright eyes. She was approaching her blossoming time, the end of +her wintry childhood, the beginning of a promising spring. It was +natural and right that her pulses should quicken and her spirits rise +when a young man met her with a friendly glance. Her whole being was +suffused with the glory of love, and her mind held the vision; but it +was of an abstract kind as yet, not inspired by man. It was in herself +that the emotion arose, in happy exuberance, and bubbled over, expending +itself in +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> + various forms of energy until it should find one object to +concentrate itself upon. There comes a time to all healthy young people +when Nature says: "Mate, my children, and be happy." If the impulse come +prematurely, it is not the young people, but the old ones that are to +blame; they should have seen to it that the intellect, which acts as a +curb on the senses when properly trained and occupied, developed first. +Beth was just at the age when the half-educated girl has nothing to +distract her but her own emotions. Her religion, and the young men who +are beginning to make eyes at her, interest her then about equally, and +in much the same way; she owes to each a pleasurable sensation. If she +can combine the two under one roof, as in church, they suffice and her +happiness is complete. It cannot be said, however, that the senses awoke +before the intellect in Beth; but because of the irregularities of her +training, the want of discipline and order, they took possession of her +first.</p> + +<p>Passing a shop-window, Beth caught a reflection of herself in the +polished pane, and saw that her skirt hung badly: it dipped too much +behind. She stopped to gauge the length, that she might alter it when +she went in, and then she noticed the pretty light summer things +displayed in the window, and ached to possess some. She was miserably +conscious of her old ill-cut skirt, more especially of the invisible +dirt on it, and she did so yearn for something new and sweet and clean. +Her mother had a bill at that shop—should she—should she just go in +and ask about prices? No, she could not in that horrid old frock; the +shopman would not respect her. She had intended to go down to the sands +and sit by the sea, and wait for things to come to her, by which she +meant ideas; but the discomfort of mind set up by that glimpse of her +uncouth clothes, and the horrible sense of their want of freshness, +gained upon her, and drove her in hurriedly. Beth would have expressed +the dainty refinement of her mind in her dress had she had the means; +but it is difficult to be dainty on nothing a year.</p> + +<p>The rest of the day she spent in her room sewing. She found that one of +Aunt Victoria's summer silks would fit her with very little alteration, +and set to work to make a Sunday frock of it. As she worked she thought +of the dear old lady, and of the hours they had sat there together +sewing, and of their teas and talks. She would not have known how to +alter that dress but for Aunt Victoria; it made her both sad and glad to +remember how much she owed her.</p> + +<p>Later in the day, after dinner, when the sun had set and the darkness +was beginning to gather, Beth became aware of a curious sensation. It +was as if she were expecting something delightful to happen, and yet, at +the same time, was all aching + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> + with anxiety. Then suddenly she +remembered her dream. The old pear-tree was a pyramid of blossom. Should +she go and see the white foam-flowers by moonlight? The moon had risen.</p> + +<p>She stole out into the garden, anxious above everything to go alone. Her +heart throbbed curiously; what did she expect? The young moon hung in an +indigo sky, and there were some white stars. The air was fresh and +fragrant as it had been in her dream, but there was less light. She had +to peer into the shade beneath the pear-tree to see—to see what? If +there were any one there? Of course there was no one there! How could +there be? She did not trust herself closer, however, until she was quite +sure that there was nothing to encounter but the trunk of the tree. Then +she went bravely, and reclined on the see-saw board, looking up through +the black branches to the clustering blossoms that shone so white on the +topmost twigs in the moonlight. And presently she began to glow with a +great feeling of exultation. It began in her chest, and spread, as from +a centre, all over her. The details of her dream recurred to her, the +close clasp, the tender kiss, and she thrilled again at the +recollection.</p> + +<p>But, for the present, the recollection was enough.</p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXVI</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">On</span> Sunday morning Beth went down to breakfast + dressed in Aunt Victoria's +light lavender silk, remodelled to suit her; and very becoming she had +made it. But Mrs. Caldwell called it an absurd costume for a girl of her +age, and said she looked ridiculously over-dressed; so Beth went back to +her room disheartened, and reappeared at church-time, with drooping +mouth, in the old black frock she usually wore on Sundays.</p> + +<p>Vainly she tried to rouse herself to any fervour of worship during the +first part of the service. She felt ill-dressed, uncomfortable, +dissatisfied, and would have been glad to quarrel with anybody. Then +suddenly, during the singing of a hymn, she ceased to be self-conscious. +All the trouble left her, and was succeeded by that curious thrill of +happy expectation which came to her continually at this time. She looked +about her and saw friendly faces where before she had seen nothing but +criticism and disdain of her shabby clothes.</p> + +<p>Those were the days of pew-letting. The nearer you sat to the pulpit, +the higher the price of the pew, and the better your social position. +Mrs. Caldwell was obliged to content herself with a cheap seat in one of +the side aisles near the door, so the vicar had never called on her. He +only called on a few front + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> + rows. His own pew was high in the chancel, +where all the parish could gaze at his exhausted wife and her increasing +family. His pupils used to sit in the pew opposite; but the bishop, +having received complaints from the neglected parish, had lately +interfered and stopped the school; and henceforth Mr. Richardson was +only to be allowed to have one pupil. Mr. Richardson determined to make +him profitable.</p> + +<p>From where she sat Beth could see the vicar's pew in the chancel, and +she had noticed a tall slender youth sitting at the far end, near the +vestry door, but he did not interest her at first; now, however, she +looked at him again, and wondered who he was, and presently she found +that he was gazing at her intently. Then their eyes met, and it was as +if a spark of fire had kindled a glow in her chest, high up near the +throat, where the breath catches. She looked down at her book, but had +no thought on the subject at all—she was all one sensation. Light had +come to her, a wondrous flood of amber light, that blotted out the +common congregation and all besides, but him and her. Yet she could +hardly sit through the service, and the moment it was over she fled. Her +great desire was to be alone, if that could be called solitude which +contained all the satisfaction of the closest companionship. All the +time that she was flying, however, she felt that she was being pursued, +and there was the strangest excitement and delight in the sensation. But +she never looked behind. She did not dare to.</p> + +<p>She made for the cliffs on the Fairholm estate, and when she came to +them her intention was to hide herself. There was a nook she knew, some +distance on, a grassy space on the cliff side, not visible either from +above or below. She climbed down to it, and there ensconced herself. +Beneath was a little cove sheltered from the north and south by the +jutting cliffs, and floored with the firmest sand just then, for the +tide was out. Beth was lying in the shadow of the cliff, but, beyond, +the sun shone, the water sparkled, the sonorous sea-voice sounded from +afar, while little laughing waves broke out into merry music all along +the shore. Beth, lying on her face with her arms folded in front of her +and her cheek resting on them, looked out, lithe, young, strong, +bursting with exultation, but motionless as a manifestation of inanimate +nature. That was a beautiful pause in her troublous day. Never mind if +it only endured for an hour, there was certainty in it, a happy +certainty. From the moment their eyes had met she was sure, she knew he +would come.</p> + +<p>The little waves rang out their laughing carillons, light grace notes to +the deep solemn melody of earth and air and sea; and Beth, watching with +dilated pupils and set countenance, listened intently. And presently, +below, on her left, round the headland + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> + some one came striding. Beth's +bright eyes flashed with a vivid interest, but she shrank back, +flattening herself down on the rank grass, as though thereby she made +herself the more invisible.</p> + +<p>The young man stopped, took off his hat and wiped his forehead, glanced +this way and that round the cove and out to sea, like one bewildered, +who has expected to find something which is not there, and begins to +look for it in the most unlikely places. Hesitating, disappointed, +uncertain, he moved a little on in one direction, a little back in the +other, then, drawn by a sudden impulse, that most familiar manifestation +of the ruling force which disposes of us all, we know not how, he walked +up the cove with swift, strong, buoyant steps, as if with a purpose, +swinging his hat in his hand as he came, and threw himself full length +on the smooth, hard, shining sand, and sighed a deep sigh of +satisfaction, as though he knew himself within reach of what he sought. +In certain states of ecstatic feeling a faculty is released which takes +cognisance of things beyond the ken of our beclouded intellects, and +although in the language of mind he did not know, it may be that from +the region of pure spirit there had come to him a subtle perception, not +to be defined, which made it more desirable to be there on that spot +alone than anywhere else in the world with no matter whom.</p> + +<p>He was a young man of seventeen or eighteen, slenderly built, with +well-shaped feet, and long, delicate, nervous hands. His face was shaved +clean of the down of his adolescence, so that his somewhat sallow +complexion looked smooth to effeminacy. His features were regular and +refined, and his fine brown curly hair was a shade lighter in colour +than his skin—which produced a noticeable effect. His pale china-blue +eyes, too, showed the same peculiarity, which Beth, looking down on him +through the fringe of long rank grass in front of her, remarked, but +uncritically, for every inch of him was a joy to her.</p> + +<p>She was passive. But the young man soon grew restless on his sandy +couch. He changed his position a dozen times, then suddenly got on his +knees, and heaped up a mound of sand, which, having patted it and +pressed it down as hard as it would set, he began to model. Beth held +her breath and became rigid with interest as she saw the shapeless mass +gradually transformed into some semblance of a human figure, +conventional as an Egyptian statue. When the young man had finished, he +sat beside the figure for some time, looking fixedly out to sea. Then he +turned to his work once more, and, after surveying it critically, he +began to make alterations, trying to improve upon what he had done; but +the result did not please him, and in a fit of exasperation he fell upon +the figure and demolished it. This + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> + seemed such a wanton outrage to Beth +that she uttered a low cry of remonstrance involuntarily, but the +exclamation mingled with the murmur of wind and wave, and was lost in +it. The young man looked disconcerted himself and ashamed, too, as a +child does when it has broken something in a rage and repents; and +presently he began to heap the mound once more. When it was done, he +stretched himself on the sand and shut his eyes, and for a long time +Beth lay still, looking down upon him.</p> + +<p>All at once, however, the noise of the water became importunate. She had +not been aware of it at all since the young man appeared, but now it +came into her consciousness with the distinctness of a sudden and +unexpected sound, and she looked in that direction. The last time she +had noticed the tide it was far out; but now, where all had been sand +beyond the sheltered cove, all was water. The silver line stretched from +headland to headland, and was still advancing. Already there was no way +of escape by the sands, and the cove itself would be a bay in a little +while—a bay without a boat! If he did not wake and bestir himself, the +callous waves would come and cover him. Should she call? She was shy of +taking the initiative even to save his life, and hesitated a moment, and +in that moment there came a crash. The treacherous clay cliff crumbled, +and the great mass of it on which she was lying slid down bodily on to +the shining sand. The young man started up, roused by the rumbling. Had +he been a few feet nearer to the cliff he must have been buried alive. +He and Beth stared at each other stupidly, neither realising what had +happened for the first few minutes. He was the first to recover himself.</p> + +<p>"Are you hurt?" he asked with concern, going forward to help her.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," she answered, staggering to her feet. "No, I think not," +she added. "I'm a little shaken. I'll sit down."</p> + +<p>The sitting would have been a tumble had he not caught her in his arms +and held her up. Beth felt deadly sick for an instant, then she found +herself reclining on the sand, with the young man bending over her, +looking anxiously into her face.</p> + +<p>"You're faint," he said.</p> + +<p>"Is that faint?" she answered. "What a ghastly sensation! But there is +something I want to remember." She shut her eyes, then opened them, and +looked up at him with a puzzled expression. "It's very odd, I can't +remember," she complained.</p> + +<p>The young man could not help her. He looked up at the cliff. "What were +you doing up there?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"What were you doing down there?" she rejoined. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I followed you," he answered simply. "I saw you come this way, then I +lost sight of you; but I thought you would be somewhere on the sands, +because the cliffs are private property."</p> + +<p>"The owner is an uncle of mine," said Beth. "I come when I like."</p> + +<p>Then they looked into each other's faces shyly, and looked away again, +smiling but confused.</p> + +<p>"Why did you follow me?" said Beth. "You did not know me."</p> + +<p>"No, but I wanted to," he answered readily. "Where were you?"</p> + +<p>"Lying on a shelf where that scar is now, looking down on you."</p> + +<p>"Then you saw me model that figure?"</p> + +<p>"And the cliff fell," Beth put in irrelevantly to cover a blush. "It +often falls. We're always having landslips here. And I think we'd better +move away from it now," she added, rising. "People are killed +sometimes."</p> + +<p>"But tell me," he said, detaining her. "Didn't you know I was following +you?"</p> + +<p>Beth became embarrassed.</p> + +<p>"You did," he persisted, "and you ran away. Why did you run away?"</p> + +<p>"I couldn't help it," Beth confessed; then she uttered an exclamation. +"Look! look! the tide! What shall we do?"</p> + +<p>He turned and saw their danger for the first time.</p> + +<p>"Our only way of escape is by the cliffs," Beth said, "unless a boat +comes by."</p> + +<p>"And the cliffs are perpendicular just here," he rejoined, after +carefully surveying them.</p> + +<p>They looked into each other's faces blankly.</p> + +<p>"I can't swim—can you?" he asked.</p> + +<p>Beth shook her head.</p> + +<p>"What is to be done?" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"There is nothing to be done, I think," she answered quietly. "We may +see a boat, but hardly anybody ever comes along the cliffs. We might +shout, though."</p> + +<p>They did so until they were hoarse, but there was no response, and the +tide came creeping up over the sand.</p> + +<p>"How calm it is!" Beth observed.</p> + +<p>He looked at her curiously. "I don't believe you're a bit afraid," he +said. "<i>I</i>'m in a desperate funk."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe we're going to be drowned, and I always know what's +coming," she answered. Then after a little she asked him his name.</p> + +<p>"Alfred," he answered; "and yours?"</p> + +<p>"Beth—Beth Caldwell. Alfred!—I like Alfred." + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I like Beth. It's queer, but I like it all the better for that. It's +like you."</p> + +<p>"Do you think me queer?" Beth asked, prepared to resent the imputation.</p> + +<p>"I think you uncommon," he replied.</p> + +<p>Beth reflected for a little. "What is your full name?" she asked +finally.</p> + +<p>"Alfred Cayley Pounce," he replied. "My father gave me the name of +Alfred that I might always remember I was <i>A</i> Cayley Pounce. But my +ambition is to be <i>The</i> Cayley Pounce," he added with a nervous little +laugh.</p> + +<p>Beth compressed her lips, and looked at the rising tide. The next wave +broke at their feet, and both involuntarily stepped back. Behind them +was the mass of earth that had fallen from the cliff. It had descended +in a solid wedge without scattering. Alfred climbed on to it, and helped +Beth up. "We shall be a little higher here, at all events," he said.</p> + +<p>Beth looked along the cliff; the high-water mark was still above their +heads. "It's getting exciting, isn't it?" she observed. "But I don't +feel nasty. Having you here makes—makes a difference, you know."</p> + +<p>"If you have to die with me, how shall you feel?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"I shall feel till my last gasp that I would much rather have lived with +you," she answered emphatically.</p> + +<p>A wavelet splashed up against the clay on which they were standing. He +turned to the cliff and tore at it in a sort of exasperation, trying to +scoop out footholes with his hands by which they might climb up; but the +effort was futile, the soft shale crumbled as he scooped, and there was +no hold to be had on it. His face had grown grey in the last few +minutes, and his eyes were strained and anxious.</p> + +<p>"I wonder how you feel," Beth said. "I think I resent the fate that +threatens us more than I fear it. If my life must end now, it will be so +unfinished."</p> + +<p>He made no reply, and she stood looking out to sea thoughtfully. "It's +Sunday," she observed at last. "There won't be many boats about to-day."</p> + +<p>The water had begun to creep up on to their last refuge; it washed over +her feet as she spoke, and she shrank back. Alfred put his arm round her +protectingly.</p> + +<p>"Do you still believe we shall not be drowned?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she answered. "But, even if we were, it wouldn't be the end of +us. We have been here in this world before, you and I, and we shall come +again."</p> + +<p>"What makes you think such queer things?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"I don't think them," she answered. "I know them. The + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> things I think +are generally all wrong; but the things I know about—that come to me +like this—are right. Only I can't command them. One comes to me now and +again like a flash, as that one did down there just now when I said we +should not be drowned; but if I put a question to myself, I can get no +answer."</p> + +<p>The water had crept up over their feet while they were speaking. It was +coming in at a great rate, but there were no waves to splash them, only +a sort of gentle heave and ripple that brought it on insensibly, so that +it had lapped up to the cliff behind them before they suspected it. Beth +shivered as it rose around her.</p> + +<p>"It's a good thing I changed my dress," she said suddenly. "That summer +silk would certainly have been spoilt."</p> + +<p>Alfred held her tight, and looked down into her face, but said nothing.</p> + +<p>"I'm thinking so many things," Beth broke out again. "I'm glad it's a +still day for one thing, and not freezing cold. The cold would have +numbed us, and we should have been swept off our feet if there had been +any waves. I want to ask you so many things. Why did you make that +figure on the sand?"</p> + +<p>"I want to be a sculptor," he said; "but my people object, and they +won't let me have the proper materials to model in, so I model in +anything."</p> + +<p>The water was almost up to Beth's waist. She had to turn and cling to +him to keep her footing. She hid her face on his shoulder, and they +stood so some time. The water rose above her waist. Alfred was head and +shoulders taller than she was. He realised that she would be covered +first.</p> + +<p>"I must hold her up somehow," he muttered.</p> + +<p>Beth raised her head. "Alfred," she began, "we're neither of us cowards, +are we? You are hating to die, I can see, but you're not going to make +an exhibition of yourself to the elements; and I'm hating it, too—I'm +horribly anxious—and the cold makes me sob in my breath as the water +comes up. It is like dying by inches from the feet up; but while my head +is alive, I defy death to make me whimper."</p> + +<p>"Do you despair, then?" he exclaimed, as if there had been some +safeguard in her certainty.</p> + +<p>"I have no knowledge at this moment," she answered. "I am in suspense. +But that is nothing. The things that have come to me like that on a +sudden positively have always been true, however much I might doubt and +question beforehand. I did know at that moment that we should not be +drowned; but I don't know it now. My spirit can't grasp the idea, +though, of being here in this comfortable body talking to you one +moment, and the next being turned out of house and home into eternity +alone." + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Not alone," he interrupted, clasping her closer. "I'll hold you tight +through all eternity."</p> + +<p>Beth looked up at him, and then they kissed each other frankly, and +forgot their danger for a blissful interval.</p> + +<p>They were keeping their foothold with difficulty now. The last heave of +the tide came up to Beth's shoulder, and took her breath away. Had it +not been for the support of the cliff behind them, they could not have +kept their position many minutes. But the cliff itself was a danger, for +the sea was eating into it, and might bring down another mass of it at +any moment. The agony of death, the last struggle with the water, had +begun.</p> + +<p>"I hate it," Beth gasped, "but I'm not afraid."</p> + +<p>The steady gentle heave of the sea was like the breathing of a placid +sleeper. It rose round them once more, up, up, over Beth's head. They +clung closer to each other and to the cliff, staggering and fighting for +their foothold. Then it sank back from them, then slowly came again, +rising in an irregular wavy line all along the face of the cliffs with a +sobbing sound as if in its great heart it shrank from the cruel deed it +was doing—rose and fell, rose and fell again.</p> + +<p>Alfred's face was grey and distorted. He groaned aloud.</p> + +<p>"Are you suffering?" Beth exclaimed. "Oh, I wish it was over."</p> + +<p>She had really the more to suffer of the two, for every wave nearly +covered her; but her nerve and physique were better than his, and her +will was of iron. The only thing that disturbed her fortitude were the +signs of distress from him.</p> + +<p>Gently, gently the water came creeping up and up again. It had swelled +so high the last time that Beth was all but gone; and now she held her +breath, expecting for certain to be overwhelmed. But, after a pause, it +went down once more, then rose again, and again subsided.</p> + +<p>Alfred stood with shut eyes and clenched teeth, blindly resisting. Beth +kept her wits about her.</p> + +<p>"Alfred!" she cried on a sudden, "I was right! I was not deceived! Stand +fast! The tide is on the turn."</p> + +<p>He opened his eyes and stared about him in a bewildered way. His face +was haggard and drawn from the strain, his strength all but exhausted; +he did not seem to understand.</p> + +<p>"Hold on!" Beth cried again. "You'll be a big sculptor yet. The tide has +turned. It's going out, Alfred, it's going out. It washed an inch lower +last time. Keep up! Keep up! O Lord, help me to hold him! help me to +hold him! It's funny," she went on, changing with one of her sudden +strange transitions from the part of actor to that of spectator, as it +were. "It's funny we neither of us prayed. People in danger do, + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> as a +rule, they say in the books; but I never even thought of it."</p> + +<p>The tide had seemed to come in galloping like a racehorse, but now it +crawled out like a snail; and they were both so utterly worn, that when +at last the water was shallow enough, they just sank down and sat in it, +leaning against each other, and yearning for what seemed to them the +most desirable thing on earth at that moment—a dry spot on which to +stretch themselves out and go to sleep.</p> + +<p>"I know now what exhaustion is," said Beth, with her head on Alfred's +shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Do you know, Beth," he rejoined with a wan smile, "you've been picking +up information ever since you fell acquainted with me here. I can count +a dozen new experiences you've mentioned already. If you go on like this +always, you'll know everything in time."</p> + +<p>"I hope so!" Beth muttered. "Fell acquainted with you, isn't bad; but I +wonder if <i>tumbled</i> wouldn't have been better——"</p> + +<p>She dozed off uncomfortably before she could finish the sentence. He had +settled himself with his head against the uncertain cliff, which beetled +above them ominously; but they were both beyond thinking or caring about +it. Vaguely conscious of each other, and of the sea-voice that gradually +grew distant and more distant as the water went out beyond the headland, +leaving them stranded in the empty cove, they rested and slept uneasily, +yet heavily enough to know little of the weary while they had to wait +before they could make their escape.</p> + +<p>For it was not until the sun had set and the moon hung high above the +sea in a sombre sky, that at last they were able to go.</p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXVII</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was dark night when Beth got back to the + little house in Orchard +Street. She had hoped to slip in unobserved, but her mother was looking +out for her.</p> + +<p>"Where have you been?" she demanded angrily.</p> + +<p>Beth had come in prepared to tell the whole exciting story, but this +reception irritated her, and she answered her mother in exactly the same +tone: "I've been at Fairholm."</p> + +<p>"What have you been doing there?" Mrs. Caldwell snapped.</p> + +<p>"Getting myself into a mess, as any one might see who looked at me," +Beth rejoined. "I must go and change."</p> + +<p>"You can go to bed," said her mother. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Thank you," said Beth, and went off straight away.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell would have liked to have followed her, and given her a +good beating, as in the old days, had she dared. Her harshness, however, +had much the same effect upon Beth that a beating used to have; it shut +her up in herself, and deprived her of the power to take her mother into +her confidence.</p> + +<p>Harriet followed her to her room. "Whativer 'ave you been doin'?" she +exclaimed. "You're draggled from top to toe, and your Sunday dress too!"</p> + +<p>"I got caught by the tide," said Beth; "and I'm done."</p> + +<p>"Just you get into bed, then," said Harriet; "and I'll fetch you up some +tea when she goes out. She's off in a moment to Lady Benyon's."</p> + +<p>"Bless you, Harriet!" Beth exclaimed. "I read in a book once that there +is no crime but has some time been a virtue, and I am sure it will be a +virtue to steal me some tea on this occasion, if it ever is."</p> + +<p>"Oh, all's fair in love and war," Harriet answered cheerfully, as she +helped Beth off with her boots; "and you and yer ma's at war again, I +guess."</p> + +<p>"Seems like it," Beth sighed. "But stay, though. No, you mustn't steal +the tea. I promised Aunt Victoria. And that reminds me. There's some +still left in her little canister. Here, take it and make it, and have +some yourself as a reward for the trouble. Hot tea and toast, an you +love me, Harriet, and to save my life. I've had nothing but salt water +since breakfast."</p> + +<p>When Beth went downstairs next morning, her mother scowled at her. "What +did you mean by telling me you had been at Fairholm yesterday?" she +asked.</p> + +<p>"I meant to tell you where I had been," Beth answered impertinently.</p> + +<p>"I saw your Aunt Grace Mary last night, and she told me she had not seen +you."</p> + +<p>"Well, Aunt Grace Mary is a good size," Beth rejoined, "but she doesn't +cover the whole estate."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell flushed angrily. "You're an ill-conditioned girl, and will +come to a bad end, or I'm much mistaken," she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"With the help of my relations, it's likely," Beth retorted.</p> + +<p>Her mother said no more until breakfast was over, and then she ordered +her peremptorily to get out her lessons.</p> + +<p>"Oh, lessons!" Beth grumbled. "What's the use of the kind of lessons <i>I</i> +do? I'm none the better for knowing that Henry VIII. had six wives, nor +the happier, nor the richer; and my wit and wisdom certainly don't +increase, nor my manners improve, if you speak the truth." + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell changed countenance. If Beth rebelled against the +home-teaching, what would happen about the money that Jim was enjoying? +Upon reflection, her mother saw she was making a mistake.</p> + +<p>"I think," she began in a conciliatory tone, "you are right perhaps. You +had better not do any lessons this morning, for I am sure you cannot be +well, Beth, or you would never speak to your mother in such a way."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm sorry, mamma," Beth rejoined in a mollified tone. "But you +know I cannot stand these everlasting naggings and scoldings. They make +me horrid. I'm pugnacious when I'm rubbed the wrong way; I can't help +it."</p> + +<p>"There, there, then; that will do," Mrs. Caldwell replied. "Run out and +amuse yourself, or have a rest. You take too much exercise, and tire +yourself to death; and then you are <i>so</i> cross there is no speaking to +you. Go away, like a good child, and amuse yourself until you feel +better."</p> + +<p>Beth went back to her own room at once, only too glad to escape and be +alone. She was not well. Every bone in her body ached, and her head was +thumping so she had to lie down on her bed at last, and keep still for +the rest of the day. But her mind was active the whole time, and it was +a happy day. She expected nothing, yet she was pleasurably satisfied, +perfectly content.</p> + +<p>The next morning at eleven there was service in the church at the end of +the road. Beth and her mother had been having the usual morning misery +at lessons, and both were exhausted when the bell began to ring. Beth's +countenance was set sullen, and Mrs. Caldwell's showed suppressed +irritation. The bell was a relief to them.</p> + +<p>"Can I go to church?" Beth asked.</p> + +<p>Her mother's first impulse was to say no, out of pure contrariness; but +the chance of getting rid of Beth on any honourable pretext was too much +of a temptation even for her to withstand. "Yes, if you like," she +answered ungraciously, after a moment's hesitation; "and get some good +out of it if you can," she added sarcastically.</p> + +<p>Beth went with honest intention. There was a glow in her chest which +added fervency to her devotions, and when Alfred entered from the vestry +and took his seat in the chancel pew, happiness, tingling in every +nerve, suffused her. His first glance was for her, and Beth knew it, but +bent her head. Her soul did magnify the Lord, however, and her spirit +did rejoice in God her Saviour, with unlimited love and trust. He had +saved them, He would hear them. He would help them, He would make them +both—<i>both</i> good and great—great after a pause, as being perhaps not a +worthy aspiration. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span></p> + +<p>She did not look at Alfred a second time, but she sat and stood and +knelt, all conscious of him, and it seemed as if the service lasted but +a moment.</p> + +<p>Directly it was over, she fled, taking the narrow path by the side of +the church to the fields; but before she was half way across the first +field, she heard a quick step following her. Beth felt she must stop +short—or run; she began to run.</p> + +<p>"Beth! Beth! wait for me," he called.</p> + +<p>Beth stopped, then turned to greet him shyly; but when he came close, +and put his arm round her, she looked up smiling. They gazed into each +other's eyes a moment, and then kissed awkwardly, like children.</p> + +<p>"Were you any the worse for our adventure?" he asked. "I've been longing +to know."</p> + +<p>"I had a headache yesterday," said Beth. "How were you?"</p> + +<p>"All stiff and aching," he replied, "or I should have been to ask after +you."</p> + +<p>"I'm glad you didn't come," Beth ejaculated.</p> + +<p>"Why? I ought to know your people, you know. Why don't the Richardsons +know them?"</p> + +<p>"Because we're poor," Beth answered bluntly; "and Mr. Richardson +neglects his poor parishioners."</p> + +<p>"All the more reason that I should call," Alfred Cayley Pounce +persisted. "You are people of good family like ourselves, and old Rich +is a nobody."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Beth; "but my mother would not let me know you. She and I +are always—always—we never agree, you know. I don't think we can help +it; we certainly don't do it on purpose—at least <i>I</i> don't; but there's +something in us that makes us jar about everything. I was going to tell +her all about you on Sunday night; but when I got in I couldn't. She +began by being angry because I was late, without waiting to know if I +were to blame, and that—that shut me up, and I never told her; and now +I don't think I could."</p> + +<p>"But what objection can she have to me?" he asked loftily. "I really +must make her acquaintance."</p> + +<p>"Not through me, then," said Beth. "Do you know the Benyons?"</p> + +<p>"No, I don't know anybody in the neighbourhood as yet. I'm here with old +Rich to be crammed. My people are trying to force me into the bar or the +church or something, because I want to be a sculptor."</p> + +<p>"Don't be forced," said Beth with spirit. "Follow your own bent. I mean +to follow mine."</p> + +<p>"I didn't know girls had any bent," he answered dubiously. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span></p> + +<p>There was a recoil in Beth. "How is it people never expect a girl to do +anything?" she exclaimed, firing up.</p> + +<p>"I don't see what a girl can do," he rejoined, "except marry and look +after her husband and children."</p> + +<p>"That's all right at the proper time," Beth said. "But meanwhile, and if +she doesn't marry, is she to do nothing?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, there are always lots of little things a woman can do," he answered +airily.</p> + +<p>"But supposing little things don't satisfy her, and she has power to +follow some big pursuit?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, in that case," he began, somewhat superciliously. "But it's +too rare to be taken into account—talent in women."</p> + +<p>"How do you know?" Beth said. "Robbing women of the means to develop +their talents doesn't prove they haven't any. The best horseman in the +world could never have ridden if he hadn't had a horse. I certainly +think a woman should see to the ordering of her household; but if she +has it in her to do more why shouldn't she? <i>I</i> shall want to do more, I +know. I shall want to be something; and I shall never believe that I +cannot be that something until I have tried the experiment. If you have +it in you to be a sculptor, be a sculptor. <i>I</i> certainly should, girl +and all as I am. I couldn't help it."</p> + +<p>"You're very valiant!" he said drily; "but you don't know what it is to +have your whole family against you."</p> + +<p>"Don't I?" said Beth, laughing. "I've known that all my life; but I've +known something besides. I've known what it is to be myself. If you know +yourself, and yourself is a sculptor, you're bound to be a sculptor in +spite of your family."</p> + +<p>He looked at her admiringly. "When you talk like that, I feel I could be +anything or do anything that you like, I love you so," he ventured, +flipping the grass with his stick to cover his boyish embarrassment. "I +am thinking of you always, all day long."</p> + +<p>"Isn't it strange!" Beth answered softly. "And only two days ago we had +never met!"</p> + +<p>"But now we shall never part," he said. "Only I don't want you to be +anything, or to care to be anything, but just my wife."</p> + +<p>The word wife came upon Beth with the shock of a sweet surprise. She had +not realised that she would ever be asked to be any one's wife; that +seemed something reserved for the honour of beings above her, beautiful +beings in books; and the hot flush of joy that suffused her at the word +rendered her oblivious to the condition attached. She looked up in the +young man's face with eyes full of love and gratitude, her transparent +skin bright with a delicate blush, and her lips just parted in a smile. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You <i>are</i> sweet, Beth!" he exclaimed. "How sweet you are!"</p> + +<p>For the next few weeks they saw each other every day, if it were only +for a few minutes; but even when they contrived to spend long hours +together it was not enough. Beth scarcely ate or slept at that time; the +glow and spring and flood of feeling that coursed through her whole +being sustained her.</p> + +<p>"When we are married we shall always be together," Alfred would whisper +when they had to separate; and then their eyes would dilate with joy at +the heavenly prospect; each was covered the while with smiles and +confusion neither of which they could control. They made each other no +formal vows. It was all taken for granted between them. Now they were +engaged; but when they were old enough, and had an income, they were to +be married.</p> + +<p>Alfred had given up the idea of making Mrs. Caldwell's acquaintance +before it was absolutely necessary. For the present, it delighted them +to think that their secret was all their own, and no one suspected it, +except Dicksie, the vicar's hunchback son, whom Alfred had taken into +his confidence. Dicksie was as old as Alfred, but his deformity had +stunted his growth, and the young lovers, looking down into his pathetic +face, were filled with compassion, and eagerly anxious to make atonement +to him for his misfortune by sharing as much of their happiness with him +as might be. They encouraged him to accompany them in their walks when +he could, which was a joy to him, for he was content to live upon the +fringe of their romance unselfishly. When they separated, Beth and +Alfred kissed each other frankly, and then Beth would stoop and kiss +Dicksie also, in pure affection.</p> + +<p>Neither of the three troubled themselves about other people in those +days, and they never suspected that their own doings could be of +consequence to anybody. They therefore remained serenely unaware of the +fact that the whole place was talking about them, their own relations +being the only people who did not know of the intimacy; and, worse +still, everybody objected to it. All the forces of Nature combined, and +the vast scheme of the universe itself had been ordered so as to unite +those two young things; but, on the other hand, the whole machinery of +civilisation was set in readiness to keep them apart. And the first +intimation they had of this fact took them by surprise.</p> + +<p>The whole happy summer had passed, and autumn was with them, mellow, +warm, and still. The days were shorter then, and the young people +delighted to slip out at dusk, and wander about the fields, all three +together. A gate opened from the vicarage grounds into the field-path +beside the church, and + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> + there Alfred and Dicksie waited till Beth +appeared, and often waited in vain, for Beth could not always get out. +Her mother told Lady Benyon that Beth was tiresome rather than naughty +in those days. She seemed to have no idea of time. She would stay out so +late that her mother became quite fidgety about her, not knowing what +had become of her; and when Beth came in at last in a casual way, +beaming blandly at every one, it was certainly provoking. Beth thought +her mother unreasonable to object to her late rambles. She was not +giving her any trouble; and she could not understand why her mother was +not content to let her be happy in her own way.</p> + +<p>Beth's lessons became more perfunctory than ever that summer. Mrs. +Caldwell salved her own conscience on the subject by arguing that it is +not wise to teach a girl too much when she is growing so fast, and Lady +Benyon agreed. Lady Benyon had no patience with people who over-educate +girls—with boys it was different; but let a girl grow up strong and +healthy, and get her married as soon as possible, was what she advised. +Had any one asked what was to become of a girl brought up for that +purpose solely, if no one were found to marry her, Lady Benyon would +have disposed of the question with a shrug of the shoulders. She laid +down the principle, and if it did not act, somebody must be to blame. +The principle itself was good, she was sure of that. So Beth was kept +without intellectual discipline to curb her senses at this critical +period, and the consequence was that her energy took the form of +sensuous rather than intellectual pursuits. Her time was devoted not to +practising, but to playing; to poetry, and to dreamy musings. She wove +words to music at the piano by the hour together, lolled about in +languorous attitudes, was more painfully concerned than ever about her +personal adornment, delighted in scents and in luxurious imaginings, and +altogether fed her feelings to such excess, that if her moral nature +were not actually weakened, it was certainly endangered.</p> + +<p>Fortunately she had an admirable companion in Alfred. The boy is not +naturally like a beast, unable to restrain his passions, a bit more than +the girl. To men as to women the power to control themselves comes of +the determination. There are cases of natural depravity, of course, but +they are not peculiar to either sex; and as the girl may inherit the +father's vices, so may the boy have his mother to thank for his virtues. +Depravity is oftener acquired than inherited. As a rule, the girl's +surroundings safeguard her from the acquisition; but when they do not, +she becomes as bad as the boy. The boy, on the contrary, especially if +he is sent to a public school, is systematically trained to be vicious. +He learns the Latin grammar from his + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> + masters, and from the habitual +conversation of the other boys, the books secretly circulated by them, +and their traditional code of vice, he becomes familiarised with the +most hoggish habits. He may escape the practical initiation by a miracle +at the time; but it is from the mind familiar with ideas of vice that +the vicious impulse eventually springs; and the seed of corruption once +sown in it, bears fruit almost inevitably.</p> + +<p>Alfred had escaped this contamination by being kept at home at a +day-school, and when Beth knew him he was as refined and high-minded as +he was virile for his age, and as self-restrained as she was impetuous. +She wanted to hurry on, and shape their lives; but he was content to let +things come about. She lived in the future, he in the present; and he +was teaching her to do the same, which was an excellent thing for her. +Often when she was making plans he would check her by saying, "Aren't +you satisfied? I can't imagine myself happier than I am at this moment."</p> + +<p>One thing neither of them ever anticipated, and that was interference. +They expected those happy days to last without interruption until the +happier ones came, when they should be independent, and could do as they +liked.</p> + +<p>"When I am king, diddle, diddle, you shall be queen," Alfred used to +sing to Beth; "and Dicksie shall be prime minister."</p> + +<p>One night they were out in the fields together. Beth was sitting on a +rail, with her arm round Dicksie's neck, as he stood on one side of her; +Alfred being on the other, with his arm round her, supporting her. They +were talking about flowers. Alfred was great on growing flowers. The +vicar had given him a piece of the vicarage garden for his own, and he +was going to build a little green-house to keep Beth well supplied with +bouquets. They were deeply engrossed in the subject, and the night was +exceedingly dark, so that they did not notice a sailor creep stealthily +up the field behind them on the other side of the hedge, and crouch down +near enough to hear all that they said. Certainly that sailor was never +more at sea in his life than he was while he listened to their innocent +prattle.</p> + +<p>When at last Beth said it was time to go home, and they strolled away +arm in arm, Alfred and Dicksie discovered that they were late, and Beth +insisted on parting from them at the field-gate into the vicarage +grounds instead of letting them see her safe into the street. When they +left her, she hurried on down the path beside the church alone, and she +had not taken many steps before she was suddenly confronted by a tall +dark man, who made as if he would not let her pass. She stopped +startled, and then went straight up to him boldly and peered into his +face. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Is that you, Gard?" she exclaimed. "How dare you!"</p> + +<p>"How dare you!" he rejoined impudently. "I've had my eye on you for some +time. I saw you out there just now in the field. I was determined to +know what you were up to. There's mighty little happens here that I +don't know."</p> + +<p>"Oh," said Beth, "so you're the town spy, are you? Well, you're not +going to spy upon me, so I warn you, Mr. Gard. The next time I come +here, I'll come armed, and if I catch you dogging me about again, I'll +shoot you as dead as my father's pistols can do it. And as it is, you +shall pay for this, I promise you. Just step aside now, you cowardly +black devil, and let me pass. Do you think that it's milk I've got in my +veins that you come out on a fool's errand to frighten me?"</p> + +<p>Without a word the man stepped aside, and Beth walked on down the path +with her head in the air, and deliberately, to let him see how little +she feared him.</p> + +<p>The next morning, directly after breakfast, she went down to the pier. +Count Bartahlinsky's yacht was alongside, and Gard was on deck. He +changed countenance when Beth appeared. She ran down the ladder.</p> + +<p>"I want to see your master," she said.</p> + +<p>"He can't see you, miss. He's given orders that he's not to be disturbed +for no one whatsoever," Gard answered with excess of deference; "and +it's as much as my billet is worth to go near him; he's very much +occupied this morning."</p> + +<p>"Don't tell lies," said Beth. "I'm going to see him."</p> + +<p>She went forward to the skylight as she spoke, and called down, "Below +there, Count Gustav!"</p> + +<p>"Hello!" a voice replied. "Is that you, Beth? You know you're too big to +be on the yacht now without a chaperon."</p> + +<p>"Rot!" said Beth.</p> + +<p>"Don't be coarse, Beth," Count Gustav remonstrated from below in rather +a precious tone. "You know how I dislike hoyden English."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, <i>nonsense</i>! if that's any better," Beth rejoined. "You've +got to see me—this once at all events, or there'll be a tragedy."</p> + +<p>"Oh, in that case," was the resigned reply, "I'll come on deck."</p> + +<p>Beth walked aft and waited for him, enthroned on the bulwark, with a +coil of rope for her footstool.</p> + +<p>When Count Gustav appeared, he looked at her quizzically. "What is the +matter, Beth?" he asked. "What are you boiling with indignation about +now?"</p> + +<p>"About that man Gard," Beth replied. "What do you think he was doing +last night? and not for the first time, by his own account. Spying!" + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Spying!" said Bartahlinsky. "Gard, come here."</p> + +<p>Gard, who had been anxiously watching them from amidships, approached.</p> + +<p>"Now, Beth, what do you mean?" said the Count.</p> + +<p>"I mean that I was out sitting on a rail in the church-fields last night +with Alfred Cayley Pounce and Dicksie Richardson talking, and this man +came and listened; and then when I left them, he met me on the path +beside the church, and spoke impudently to me, and would not let me +pass. I know what you thought," she broke out, turning upon Gard. "You +thought I was doing something that I was ashamed of, and you'd find it +out, and have me in your power. But I'll have you know that I do nothing +I'm ashamed of—nothing I should be ashamed to tell your master about, +so you may save yourself the trouble of spying upon me, Black Gard, as +they well call you."</p> + +<p>Gard was about to say something, but Count Gustav stopped him +peremptorily. "You can go," he said. "I'll hear what you have to say +later."</p> + +<p>Then he sat down beside Beth, and talked to her long and earnestly. He +advised her to give up her rambles with Alfred and Dicksie; but she +assured him that that was impossible.</p> + +<p>"Who else have I?" she asked pathetically. "And what am I to do with my +days if they never come into them again?"</p> + +<p>"You ought to have been sent to school, Beth, long ago, and I told your +mother so," Count Gustav answered, frowning. "And, by Jove, I'll tell +her again," he thought, "before it's too late."</p> + +<p>The encounter with Gard added excitement to the charm of Beth's next +meeting with the boys. It made them all feel rather important. They +discussed it incessantly, speculating as to what the man's object could +have been. Alfred said vulgar curiosity; but Beth suspected that there +was more than that in the manœuvre; and when Dicksie suggested +acutely that Gard had intended to blackmail them, she and Alfred both +exclaimed that that was it!</p> + +<p>They had gone about together all this time in the most open way; now +they began to talk about caution and concealment, like the persecuted +lovers of old romance, who had powerful enemies, and were obliged to +manage their meetings so that they should not be suspected. They decided +not to speak to each other in public, and, consequently, when they met +in the street, they passed with such an elaborate parade of ignoring +each other, and yet with such evident enjoyment of the position, that +people began to wonder what on earth they were up to. Disguises would +have delighted them; but the fashions of the day did not lend themselves +much to disguise, unfortunately. There were no masks, no sombreros, no +cloaks; and all they could think of was + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> + false whiskers for Alfred; but +when he tried them, they altered him so effectually that Dicksie said he +could not bear him, and Beth would not kiss him.</p> + +<p>One evening after dinner, when Mrs. Caldwell was reading aloud to Beth +and Bernadine, there came a thundering knock at the front door, which +startled them all. The weather had been bad all day, and now the +shutters were closed, the rain beat against them with a chilly, +depressing effect, inexpressibly dreary. Instead of attending to the +reading, Beth had been listening to the footsteps of people passing in +the street, in the forlorn hope that among them she might distinguish +Alfred's. When the knock came they thought it was a runaway, but Harriet +opened the door all the same, and presently returned, smiling archly, +and holding aloft a beautiful bouquet.</p> + +<p>"What's that?" said Mrs. Caldwell. "Give it to me."</p> + +<p>Beth's heart stood still.</p> + +<p>There was a card attached to the flowers, and Mrs. Caldwell read aloud, +"<i>Miss Caldwell, with respectful compliments.</i>"</p> + +<p>"Who brought this, Harriet?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"No one, ma'am," Harriet replied. "It was 'itched on till the knocker."</p> + +<p>"Very strange," Mrs. Caldwell muttered suspiciously. "Beth, do you know +anything about it?"</p> + +<p>"Is there no name on the card?" Beth asked diplomatically; and Mrs. +Caldwell looked at the card instead of into Beth's face, and discovered +nothing.</p> + +<p>Raindrops sparkled on the flowers, their fragrance filled the room, and +their colours and forms and freshness were a joy to behold. "How +beautiful they are!" Mrs. Caldwell exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"May I have them, mamma?" Beth put in quickly.</p> + +<p>"Well, yes, I suppose you may," Mrs. Caldwell decided; "although I must +say I do not understand their being left in this way at all. Who could +have sent you flowers?"</p> + +<p>"There's the gardener at Fairholm," Beth ventured to suggest.</p> + +<p>"Oh, ah, yes," said Mrs. Caldwell, handing the flowers to Beth without +further demur. The gift appeared less lovely, somehow, when she began to +associate it with the gardener's respectful compliments.</p> + +<p>Beth took the flowers, and hid her burning face with them. This was her +first bouquet, the most exquisite thing that had ever happened to her. +She carried it off to her room, and put it in water; and when she went +to bed she kept the candle burning that she might lie and look at it.</p> + +<p>The following week a menagerie came to the place. Alfred and Dicksie +went to it, and their description filled Beth with a wild desire to see +the creatures, especially the chimpanzee. The + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> + boys were quite ready to +take her, but how was it to be managed? The menagerie was only to be +there that one night more, but it would be open late, and they would be +allowed to go because animals are improving. Could she get out too? Beth +considered intently.</p> + +<p>"I can go to bed early," she said at last, "and get out by the +acting-room window."</p> + +<p>"But suppose you were missed?" Alfred deprecated.</p> + +<p>"Then I should be found out," said Beth; "but you would not."</p> + +<p>"How about being recognised in the menagerie, though?" said Dicksie. +"You see there'll be lots of people, and it's all lighted up."</p> + +<p>"I can disguise myself to look like an old woman," Beth rejoined, +thinking of Aunt Victoria's auburn front and some of her old things.</p> + +<p>"Oh no, Beth!" Alfred protested. "That would be worse than the +whiskers."</p> + +<p>"Can't you come as a boy?" said Dicksie.</p> + +<p>"I believe I can," Beth exclaimed. "There's an old suit of Jim's +somewhere that would be the very thing—one he grew out of. I believe +it's about my size, and I think I know where it is. What a splendid +idea, Dicksie! I can cut my hair off."</p> + +<p>"Oh no! Your pretty hair!" Alfred exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Is it pretty?" said Beth, surprised and pleased.</p> + +<p>"<i>Is</i> it pretty!" he ejaculated, lifting it with both hands, and bathing +his face in it; "the brightest, brownest, curliest, softest, sweetest +hair on earth! Turn it up under your cap. These little curls on your +neck will look like short hair."</p> + +<p>They were all so delighted with this romantic plan, that they danced +about, and hugged each other promiscuously. But this last piece of +cleverness was their undoing, for Beth was promptly recognised at the +menagerie by some one with a sense of humour, who told Lady Benyon, who +told Mrs. Caldwell.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell came hurrying home from Lady Benyon's a few nights later +with the queerest expression of countenance Beth had ever seen; it was +something between laughing and crying.</p> + +<p>"Beth," she began in an agitated manner, "I am told that you went with +two of Mr. Richardson's sons to the menagerie on Tuesday night, dressed +as a boy."</p> + +<p>"<i>One</i> of his sons," said Beth, correcting her; "the other boy was his +pupil."</p> + +<p>"And you were walking about looking at the animals in that public place +with your arm round the girl from the shoe-shop?"</p> + +<p>Beth burst out laughing. "All the boys had their arms round girls," she +explained. "I couldn't be singular."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell dropped into a chair, and sat gazing at Beth as + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> if she +had never seen anything like her before, as indeed she never had.</p> + +<p>"Who is this pupil of Mr. Richardson's?" she asked at last, "and how did +you make his acquaintance?"</p> + +<p>"His name is Alfred Cayley Pounce," Beth answered. "We were caught by +the tide and nearly drowned together on the sands, and I've known him +ever since."</p> + +<p>"And do you mean to say that you have been meeting this young man in a +clandestine manner—that you hadn't the proper pride to refuse to +associate with him unless he were known to your family and you could +meet him as an equal?"</p> + +<p>"He did wish to make your acquaintance, but I wouldn't let him," Beth +said.</p> + +<p>"Why?" Mrs. Caldwell asked in amazement.</p> + +<p>"Oh, because I was afraid you would be horrid to him," Beth answered.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell was thunderstruck. The whole affair had overwhelmed her as +a calamity which could not be met by any ordinary means. Scolding was +out of the question, for she was not able to utter another word, but +just sat there with such a miserable face, she might have been the +culprit herself, especially as she ended by bursting into tears.</p> + +<p>Beth's heart smote her, and she watched her mother for some time, +yearning to say something to comfort her.</p> + +<p>"I don't think you need be so distressed, mamma," she ventured at last +"What have I done, after all? I've committed no crime."</p> + +<p>"You've done just about as bad a thing as you could do," Mrs. Caldwell +rejoined. "You've made the whole place talk about you. You must have +known you were doing wrong. But I think you can have no conscience at +all."</p> + +<p>"I think I have a conscience, only it doesn't always act," Beth answered +disconsolately. "Very often, when I am doing a wrong thing, it doesn't +accuse me; when it does, I stop and repent."</p> + +<p>She was sitting beside the dining-table, balancing a pencil on her +finger as she spoke.</p> + +<p>"Look at you now, Beth," her mother ejaculated, "utterly callous!"</p> + +<p>Beth sighed, and put the pencil down. She despaired of ever making her +mother understand anything, and determined not to try again.</p> + +<p>"Beth, I don't know what to do with you," Mrs. Caldwell recommenced +after a long silence. "I've been warned again and again that I should +have trouble with you, and Heaven knows I have. You've done a monstrous +thing, and, instead of being terrified + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> + when you're found out, you sit +there coolly discussing it, as if you were a grown-up person. And then +you're so queer. You ought to be a child, but you're not. Lady Benyon +likes you; but even she says you're not a child, and never were. You say +things no sane child would ever think of, and very few grown-up people. +You are <i>not</i> like other people, there's no denying it."</p> + +<p>Beth's eyes filled with tears. To be thought unlike other people was the +one thing that made her quail.</p> + +<p>"Well, mamma, what am I to do?" she said. "I hate to vex you, goodness +knows; but I must be doing something. The days are long and dreary." She +wiped her eyes. "When people warned you that you would have trouble with +me, they always said unless you sent me to school."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell rocked herself on her chair forlornly. "School would do +you no good," she declared at last. "No, Beth, you are my cross, and I +must bear it. If I forgive you again this time, will you be a better +girl in future?"</p> + +<p>"I don't believe it's my fault that I ever annoy you," Beth answered +drily.</p> + +<p>"Whose fault is it, then?" her mother demanded.</p> + +<p>Beth shrugged her shoulders and began to balance the pencil on her +fingers once more.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell got up and stood looking at her for a little with a +gathering expression of dislike on her face which it was not good to +see; then she went towards the door.</p> + +<p>"You are incorrigible," she ejaculated as she opened it, making the +remark to cover her retreat.</p> + +<p>Beth sighed heavily, then resolved herself into a Christian martyr, +cruelly misjudged—an idea which she pursued with much satisfaction to +herself for the rest of the day.</p> + +<p>In consequence of that conversation with her mother, when the evening +came her conscience accused her, and she made no attempt to go out. She +was to meet Alfred and Dicksie on Saturday, their next half-holiday, and +she would wait till then. That was Wednesday.</p> + +<p>During the interval, however, a strange chill came over her feelings. +The thought of Alfred was as incessant as ever, but it came without the +glow of delight; something was wrong.</p> + +<p>They were to meet on the rocks behind the far pier at low water on +Saturday. Few people came to the far pier, and, when they did, it was +seldom that they looked over; and they could not have seen much if they +had, for the rocks were brown with seaweed, and dark figures wandering +about on them became indistinguishable. Beth went long before the time. +It was a beautiful still grey day, such as she loved, and she longed to +be alone with the sea. The tide was going out, and she had a fancy + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> for +following it from rock to rock as it went. Some of the bigger rocks were +flat-topped islands, separated from the last halting-place of the tide +by narrow straits, across which she sprang; and on these she would lie +her length, peering down into the clear depths on the farther side, +where the healthy happy sea-creatures disported themselves, and seaweeds +of wondrous colours waved in fantastic forms. The water lapped up and up +and up the rocks, rising with a sobbing sound, and bringing fresh airs +with it that fanned her face, and caused her to draw in her breath +involuntarily, and inhale long deep draughts with delight. As the water +went out, bright runnels were left where rivers had been, and miniature +bays became sheltered coves, paved with polished pebbles or purple +mussels, and every little sandy space was ribbed with solid waves where +the busy lob-worms soon began to send up their ropy castings. Beyond the +break of the water the silver sea sloped up to the horizon, and on it, +rocking gently, far out, a few cobles were scattered, with rich red +sails all set ready, waiting for a breeze. It was an exquisite scene, +remote from all wail of human feeling, and strangely tranquillising. +Gradually it gained upon Beth. Her bosom heaved with the heaving water +rhythmically, and she lost herself in contemplation of sea and sky +scape. Before she had been many minutes prone upon the farthest rock, +the vision and the dream were upon her. That other self of hers unfurled +its wings, and she floated off, revelling in an ecstasy of gentle +motion. Beyond the sea-line were palaces with terraced gardens, white +palaces against which grass and trees showed glossy green; and there she +wandered among the flowers, and waited. She was waiting for something +that did not happen, for some one who did not come.</p> + +<p>Suddenly she sat up on her rock. The sun was sinking behind her, the +silver sea shone iridescent, the tide had turned. But where were the +boys? She looked about her. Out on the sands beyond the rocks on her +right, a man was wading in the water with a net, shrimping. Close at +hand another was gathering mussels for bait, and a gentleman was walking +towards her over the slippery rocks, balancing himself as though he +found it difficult to keep his feet; but these were the only people in +sight. The gentleman was a stranger. He wore a dark-blue suit, with a +shirt of wonderful whiteness, and Beth could not help noticing how +altogether well-dressed he was—too well-dressed for climbing on the +rocks. She noticed his dress particularly, because well-dressed men were +rare in Rainharbour. He was tall, with glossy black hair inclining to +curl, slight whiskers and moustache, blue eyes, and a bright complexion. +A woman with as much colour would have been accused of painting; in him +it gave to some + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> + people the idea of superabundant health, to others it +suggested a phthisical tendency. Beth looked at him as he approached as +she looked at everybody and everything with interest—nothing escaped +her; but he made no great impression upon her. She thought of him +principally as a man with a watch; and when he was near enough she asked +him what time it was. He told her, looking hard at her, and smiling +pleasantly as he returned his watch to his pocket. She noticed that his +teeth were good, but too far apart, a defect which struck her as +unpleasant.</p> + +<p>"Why, it is quite late!" she exclaimed, forgetting to thank him in her +surprise.</p> + +<p>"Are you all alone here?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"I was waiting for some friends," she answered, "but they have not come. +They must have been detained."</p> + +<p>She began to walk back as she spoke, and the gentleman turned too +perforce, for the tide was close upon them.</p> + +<p>"Let me help you," he said, holding out his hand, which was noticeably +white and well-shaped; "the rocks are rough and slippery."</p> + +<p>"I can manage, thank you," Beth answered. "I am accustomed to them."</p> + +<p>Beth involuntarily resolved herself into a young lady the moment she +addressed this man, and spoke now with the self-possession of one +accustomed to courtesies. Even at that age her soft cultivated voice and +easy assurance of manner, and above all her laugh, which was not the +silvery laugh of fiction, but the soundless laugh of good society, +marked the class to which she belonged; and as he stumbled along beside +her, her new acquaintance wondered how it happened that she was at once +so well-bred and so shabbily dressed. He began to question her +guardedly.</p> + +<p>"Do you know Rainharbour well?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"I live here," Beth answered.</p> + +<p>"Then I suppose you know every one in the place," he pursued.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," she rejoined. "I know very few people, except my own, of +course."</p> + +<p>"Which is considered the principal family here?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"The Benyon family is the biggest and the wickedest, I should think," +she answered casually.</p> + +<p>"But I meant the most important," he explained, smiling.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," she said. "Uncle James Patten thinks that next to +himself the Benyons are. He married one of them. He's an awful snob."</p> + +<p>"And what is his position?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know—he's a landowner; that's his estate over there," and she +nodded towards Fairholm. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Indeed! How far does it extend?"</p> + +<p>"From the sea right up to the hills there, and a little way beyond."</p> + +<p>They had left the rocks by this time, and were toiling up the steep road +into the town. When they reached the top, Beth exclaimed abruptly, "I am +late! I must fly!" and leaving her companion without further ceremony, +turned down a side street and ran home.</p> + +<p>When she got in, she wondered what had become of Alfred and Dicksie, and +she was conscious of a curious sort of suspense, which, however, did not +amount to anxiety. It was as if she were waiting and listening for +something she expected to hear, which would explain in words what she +held already inarticulate in some secret recess of her being—held in +suspense and felt, but had not yet apprehended in the region of thought. +There are people who collect and hold in themselves some knowledge of +contemporary events as the air collects and holds moisture; it may be +that we all do, but only one here and there becomes aware of the fact. +As the impalpable moisture in the air changes to palpable rain so does +this vague cognisance become a comprehensible revelation by being +resolved into a shower of words on occasion by some process psychically +analogous to the condensation of moisture in the air. It is a natural +phenomenon known to babes like Beth, but ill-observed, and not at all +explained, because man has gone such a little way beyond the bogey of +the supernatural in psychical matters that he is still befogged, and +makes up opinions on the subject like a divine when miracles are in +question, instead of searching for information like an honest +philosopher, whose glory it is, not to prove himself right, but to +discover the truth.</p> + +<p>Beth did not sleep much that night. She recalled the sigh and sob and +freshness of the sea, and caught her breath again as if the cool water +were still washing up and up and up towards her. She saw the silver +surface, too, stretching on to those shining palaces, where grass and +tree showed vivid green against white walls, and flowers stood still on +airless terraces, shedding strange perfumes. And she also saw her new +acquaintance coming towards her, balancing himself on the slippery, +wrack-grown rocks, in boots and things that were much too good for the +purpose; but Alfred and Dicksie never appeared, and were not to be found +of her imagination. They were nowhere.</p> + +<p>She expected to see them in church next day—at least, so she assured +herself, and then was surprised to find that there was no sort of +certainty in herself behind the assurance, although they had always +hitherto been in church. "Something is different, + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> somehow," she +thought, and the phrase became a kind of accompaniment to all her +thoughts.</p> + +<p>Dicksie was the first person she saw when she entered the church, but +Alfred was not there, and he did not come. She went up the field-path +after the service, and waited about for Dicksie. When Alfred was +detained himself, Dicksie usually came to explain; but that day he did +not appear, and they were neither of them at the evening service. Beth +could not understand it, but she was more puzzled than perturbed.</p> + +<p>She was reading French to her mother next morning by way of a lesson, +when they both happened to look up and see Mrs. Richardson, the vicar's +worn-out wife, passing the window. The next moment there was a knock at +the door.</p> + +<p>"Can she be coming here?" Mrs. Caldwell exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"What should she come here for?" Beth rejoined, her heart palpitating.</p> + +<p>"Oh dear, oh dear! this is just what I expected!" Mrs. Caldwell +declared. "And if only she had come last week, I should have known +nothing about it."</p> + +<p>"You don't know much as it is," Beth observed, without, however, seeing +why that should make any difference.</p> + +<p>The next moment the vicar's wife was ushered in with a wink by Harriet. +Mrs. Caldwell and Beth both rose to receive her haughtily. She had +entered with assurance, but that left her the moment she faced them, and +she became exceedingly nervous. She was surprised at the ease and grace +of these shabbily-dressed ladies, and the refinement of their +surroundings—the design of the furniture, the colour of curtains and +carpet, the china, the books, the pictures, all of which bespoke tastes +and habits not common in the parish.</p> + +<p>"I must apologise for this intrusion," she began nervously. "I have a +most unpleasant task to perform. My husband requested me to come——"</p> + +<p>"Why didn't he come himself?" Beth asked blandly. "Why does he make you +do the disagreeable part of his duties?"</p> + +<p>The vicar's wife raised her meek eyes and gazed at Beth. She had not +anticipated this sort of reception from poor parishioners, and was +completely nonplussed. She was startled, too, by Beth's last question, +for she belonged to the days of brave unhonoured endurance, when women, +meekly allowing themselves to be classed with children and idiots, +exacted no respect, and received none—no woman, decent or otherwise, +being safe from insult in the public streets; when they were expected to +do difficult and dirty work for their husbands, such as canvassing at +elections, without acknowledgment, their wit and capacity being traded +upon without scruple to obtain from men the votes + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> which they were not +deemed wise and worthy enough to have themselves; the days when they +gave all and received nothing in return, save doles of bread and +contempt, varied by such caresses as a good dog gets when his master is +in the mood. That was the day before woman began to question the wisdom +and goodness of man, his justice and generosity, his right to make a +virtue of wallowing when he chose to wallow, and his disinterestedness +and discretion when he also arrogated to himself the power to order all +things. Mrs. Richardson had no more thought of questioning the beauty of +her husband's decisions than she had thought of questioning the logic +and mercy of her God, and this first flash of the new spirit of inquiry +from Beth's bright wit came upon her with a shock at first—one of those +shocks to the mind which is as the strength of wine to the exhausted +body, that checks the breath a moment, then rouses and stimulates.</p> + +<p>"May I sit down?" she gasped, then dropped into a chair. "He might have +come himself, to be sure," she muttered. "I have more than enough to do +that is disagreeable in my own womanly sphere without being required to +meddle in parish matters."</p> + +<p>Yet when her husband had said to her: "It is a very disagreeable +business indeed this. I think I'll get you to go. You'll manage it with +so much more tact than a man," the poor lady, unaccustomed to +compliments, was gratified. Now, however, thanks to Beth, she had been +nearer to making an acute observation than she had ever been in her life +before; she all but perceived that the woman's sphere is never home +exclusively when man can make use of her for his own purposes elsewhere. +The sphere is the stable he ties her up in when he does not want her, +and takes her from again to drag him out of a difficulty, or up to some +distinction, just as it suits himself.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell and Beth waited for Mrs. Richardson to commit herself, but +gave her no further help.</p> + +<p>"The truth is," she recommenced desperately, "we have lost an excellent +pupil. His people have been informed that he was carrying on an intrigue +with a girl in this place, and have taken him away at a moment's +notice."</p> + +<p>"And what has that to do with us?" Mrs. Caldwell asked politely.</p> + +<p>"The girl is said to be your daughter."</p> + +<p>"This is my eldest daughter at home," Mrs. Caldwell answered. "She is +not yet fourteen."</p> + +<p>"But she's a very big girl," Mrs. Richardson faltered.</p> + +<p>"Who is this person, this pupil you allude to?" Mrs. Caldwell asked +superciliously. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span></p> + +<p>"He is the son of wealthy Nottingham people."</p> + +<p>"Ah! lace manufacturers, I suppose," Mrs. Caldwell rejoined.</p> + +<p>"Yes—s," Mrs. Richardson acknowledged with reluctance. She associated, +as she was expected to do, with gentlemen who debauched themselves +freely, but would have scorned the acquaintance of a shopman of saintly +life.</p> + +<p>"Then certainly not a proper acquaintance for my daughter," Mrs. +Caldwell decided, with the manner of a county lady speaking to a person +whom she knows to be nobody by birth. "Beth, will you be good enough to +tell us what you know of this youth?"</p> + +<p>"I was caught by the tide on the sands one day, and he was there, and +helped me; and I always spoke to him afterwards. I thought I ought, for +politeness' sake," Beth answered easily.</p> + +<p>"May I ask how that strikes you?" Mrs. Caldwell, turning to Mrs. +Richardson, requested to know, but did not wait for a reply. "It strikes +me," she proceeded, "that your husband's parish must be in an appalling +state of neglect and disorder when slander is so rife that he loses a +good pupil because an act of common politeness, a service rendered by a +youth on the one hand, and acknowledged by a young lady on the other, is +described as an intrigue. But I still fail to see," she pursued +haughtily, "why you should have come to spread this scandal here in my +house."</p> + +<p>"Oh," the little woman faltered, "I was to ask if there had been +any—any presents. But," she added hastily, to save herself from the +wrath which she saw gathering on Mrs. Caldwell's face, "I am sure there +were not. I'm sure you would never bring a breach of promise case—I'm +sure it has all been a dreadful mistake. If Mr. Richardson wants +anything of this kind done in future, he must do it himself. I +apologise."</p> + +<p>She uttered the last word with a gasp.</p> + +<p>"Let me show you out," said Beth, and the discomforted lady found +herself ushered into the street without further ceremony.</p> + +<p>When Beth returned she found her mother smiling blandly at the result of +her diplomacy. It was probably the first effort of the kind the poor +lady had ever made, and she was so elated by her success that she took +Beth into her confidence, and forgave her outright in order to hob-nob +with her on the subject.</p> + +<p>"I think I fenced with her pretty well," she said several times. "A +woman of her class, a country attorney's daughter or something of that +kind, is no match for a woman of mine. I hope, Beth, this will be a +lesson to you, and will teach you to appreciate the superior tact and +discretion of the upper classes."</p> + +<p>Beth could not find it in her heart to say a word to check her + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> mother's +jubilation; besides, she had played up to her, answering to expectation, +as she was apt to do, with fatal versatility. But she did not feel that +they had come out of the business well. It was as if their honesty had +been bedraggled somehow, and she could not respect her mother for her +triumph; on the contrary, she pitied her. That kind of diplomacy or +tact, the means by which people who have had every advantage impose upon +those who have had no advantages to speak of, did not appeal to Beth as +pleasant, even at fourteen.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell put her work away at once, and hurried off to describe the +encounter to Lady Benyon.</p> + +<p>"They had not heard of the menagerie affair, I suppose," the old lady +observed, twinkling. "Thanks to yourself, I think you may consider Miss +Beth is well out of <i>that</i> scrape. But take my advice. Get that girl +married the first chance you have. <i>I</i> know girls, and she's one of the +marrying kind. Once she's married, let her mutiny or do anything she +likes. <i>You'll</i> be shut of the responsibility."</p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXVIII"></a>CHAPTER XXVIII</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">From</span> that time forward it was as if Alfred had vanished into space. +Whether he ever attempted to communicate with her, Beth could not tell; +but she received no letter or message. She expected to hear from him +through Dicksie, but it soon became apparent that Dicksie had deserted +her. He came to none of their old haunts, and never looked her way in +church or in the street when they met. She was ashamed to believe it of +him at first, lest some defect in her own nature should have given rise +to the horrid suspicion; but when she could no longer doubt it, she +shrugged her shoulders as at something contemptible, and dismissed him +from her mind. About Alfred she could not be sure. He might have sent +letters and messages that never reached her, and therefore she would not +blame him; but as the thought of him became an ache, she resolutely set +it aside, so that, in a very short time, in that part of her +consciousness where his image had been, there was a blank. Thus the +whole incident ended like a light extinguished, as Beth acknowledged to +herself at last. "It is curious, though," she thought, "but I certainly +knew it in myself all along from the moment the change came, <i>if only I +could have got at the knowledge</i>."</p> + +<p>As a direct result of her separation from Alfred, Beth entered upon a +bad phase. The simple satisfaction of her heart in his company had kept +her sane and healthy. With such a will as hers, it had not been hard to +cast him out of her anticipations; + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span> + but with him, there went from her +life that wholesome companionship of boy and girl which contains all the +happiness necessary for their immaturity, and also stimulates their +growth in every way by holding out the alluring prospect of the +fulfilment of those hopes of their being towards which their youth +should aspire from the first, insensibly, but without pause. Having once +known this companionship, Beth did not thrive without it. She had no +other interest in its place to take her out of herself, and the time +hung heavy on her hands. With her temperament, however, more than a +momentary pause was impossible. Her active mind, being bare of all +expectation, soon began to sate itself upon vain imaginings. For the +rational plans and pursuits she had been accustomed to make and to carry +out with the boys, she had nothing to substitute but dreams; and on +these she lived, finding an idle distraction in them, until the habit +grew disproportionate, and began to threaten the fine balance of her +other faculties: her reason, her power of accurate observation and of +assimilating every scrap of knowledge that came in her way. To fill up +her empty days, she surrounded herself with a story, among the crowding +incidents of which she lived, whatever she might be doing. She had a +lover who frequented a wonderful dwelling on the other side of the +headland that bounded Rainharbour bay on the north. He was rich, dark, +handsome, a mysterious man, with horses and a yacht. She was his one +thought, but they did not meet often because of their enemies. He was +engaged upon some difficult and dangerous work for the good of mankind, +and she had many a midnight ride to warn him to beware, and many a wild +adventure in an open boat, going out in the dark for news. But there +were happy times too, when they lived together in that handsome house +hidden among the flowers behind the headland, and at night she always +slept with her head on his shoulder. He had a confidential agent, a +doctor, whom he sent to her with letters and messages, because it was +not safe for him to appear in the public streets himself. This man was +just like the one she had met on the rocks, and his clothes were always +too good for the occasion. His name was Angus Ambrose Cleveland.</p> + +<p>Just at this time, Charlotte Hardy, the daughter of a doctor who lived +next door to the Benyon Dower House, fell in love with Beth, and began +to make much of her. Beth had never had a girl companion before, and +although she rather looked down on Charlotte, she enjoyed the novelty. +They were about the same age, but Charlotte was smaller than Beth, less +precocious, and better educated. She knew things accurately that Beth +had only an idea of; but Beth could make more use of a hint than +Charlotte could of the fullest information. Beth respected her +knowledge, however, and suffered pangs of humiliation when she + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span> compared +it to her own ignorance; and it was by way of having something to show +of equal importance that she gradually fell into the habit of confiding +her romance to Charlotte, who listened in perfect good faith to the +fascinating details which Beth poured forth from day to day. Beth did +not at first intend to impose on her credulity; but when she found that +Charlotte in her simplicity believed the whole story, she adapted her +into it, and made her as much a part of it as Hector the hero, and Dr. +Angus Ambrose Cleveland, the confidential agent on whom their safety +depended. Charlotte was Beth's confidante now, a post which had hitherto +been vacant; so the whole machinery of the romance was complete, and in +excellent order.</p> + +<p>"It's queer I never see the doctor about," Charlotte said one day, when +they were out on the cliffs together.</p> + +<p>Beth happened to look up at that moment and saw her acquaintance of the +rocks coming towards them.</p> + +<p>"Your curiosity will be gratified," she said, "for there he is."</p> + +<p>"Where?" Charlotte demanded in an excited undertone.</p> + +<p>"Approaching," Beth answered calmly.</p> + +<p>"Will he speak?" Charlotte asked in a breathless whisper.</p> + +<p>"He will doubtless make me a sign," Beth replied.</p> + +<p>When he was near enough, the gentleman recognised Beth, and smiled as +they passed each other.</p> + +<p>"Oughtn't he to have taken off his hat?" Charlotte asked.</p> + +<p>"He means no disrespect," Beth answered with dignity. "It is safer so. +In fact, if you had not been my confidante, he would not have dared to +make any sign at all."</p> + +<p>"Oh, then he knows that I am your confidante!" Charlotte exclaimed, much +gratified.</p> + +<p>"Of course," said Beth. "I have to keep them informed of all that +concerns me. I brought you here to-day on purpose. I shall doubtless +have to ask you to take letters, and you could not deliver them if you +did not know the doctor by sight. There is the yacht," she added, as a +beautiful white-winged vessel swept round the headland into the bay.</p> + +<p>"O Beth! aren't you excited?" Charlotte cried.</p> + +<p>"No," Beth answered quietly. "You see I am used to these things."</p> + +<p>"Beth, what a strange creature you are," said Charlotte, with respect. +"One can see that there's something extraordinary about you, but one +can't tell what it is. You're not pretty—at least <i>I</i> don't think so. I +asked papa what he thought, and he said you had your points, and a +something beyond, which is irresistible. He couldn't explain it, though; +but I know what he meant. I always feel it when you talk to me; and I +believe I could die for you. There's Mrs. Warner Benyon out again," she + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> +broke off to observe. "Papa was called in to see her the other day. He +isn't their doctor, but she was taken ill suddenly, so they sent for him +because he was at hand; and he says her shoulders are like alabaster."</p> + +<p>Beth pursed up her mouth at this, but made no answer. When she got home, +however, she repeated the observation to her mother in order to ask her +what alabaster was exactly. Mrs. Caldwell flushed indignantly at the +story. "If Dr. Hardy speaks in that way of his patients to his family, +he won't succeed in his profession," she declared. "A man who talks +about his patients may be a clever doctor, but he's sure not to be a +nice man—not high-minded, you know—and certainly not a wise one. +Remember that, Beth, and take my advice: don't have anything to do with +a 'talking doctor'"—a recommendation which Beth remembered afterwards, +but only to note the futility of warnings.</p> + +<p>Matters became very complicated in the story as it proceeded. It was all +due to some Spanish imbroglio, Beth said. Hector ran extraordinary +risks, and she was not too safe herself if things went wrong. There were +implicating documents, and emissaries of the Jesuits were on the +look-out.</p> + +<p>One day, Charlotte's mother being away from home, Beth asked her +mysteriously if she could conceal some one in her room at night unknown +to her father.</p> + +<p>"Easily," Charlotte answered. "He never comes up to my room."</p> + +<p>"Then you must come and ask mamma to let me spend the day and night with +you to-morrow," Beth said. "I shall have business which will keep me +away all day, but I shall return at dusk, and then you must smuggle me +up to your room. We shall be obliged to sit up all night. I don't know +what is going to happen. Are the servants safe? If I should be +betrayed——"</p> + +<p>"Safe not to tell you are there," said Charlotte, "and that is all they +will know. They won't tell on me. I never tell on them."</p> + +<p>The next morning early, Charlotte arrived in Orchard Street with a face +full of grave importance, and obtained Mrs. Caldwell's consent to take +Beth back with her; but instead of having to go home to spend the day +alone waiting for Beth, as she had expected, she was sent out some +distance along the cliffs to a high hill, which she climbed by Beth's +direction. She was to hide herself among the fir-trees at the top, and +watch for a solitary rider on a big brown horse, who would pass on the +road below between noon and sunset, if all went well, going towards the +headland.</p> + +<p>"<i>I</i> shall be that rider," Beth said solemnly. "And the moment you see +me, take this blue missive, and place it on the Flat Rock, with a stone +on it to keep it from blowing away; + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> + then go home. If I do not appear +before sunset, here is a red missive to place on the Flat Rock instead +of the blue one, which must then be destroyed by fire. If I return, I +return; if not, never breathe a word of these things to a living soul as +you value your life."</p> + +<p>"I would rather die than divulge anything," Charlotte protested +solemnly, and her choice of the word divulge seemed to add considerably +to the dignity of the proceedings.</p> + +<p>They separated with a casual nod, that people might not suspect them of +anything important, and each proceeded to act her part in a delightful +state of excitement; but what was thrilling earnest to Charlotte, +calling for courage and endurance, was merely an exhilarating play of +the fancy put into practice to Beth.</p> + +<p>By the time Charlotte arrived at the top of the hill, and had settled +herself among the firs overlooking the road below, she was very tired. +Beth had given her a bag, one of Aunt Victoria's many reticules, with +orders not to open it before her watch began. The bag had been a burden +to carry, but Charlotte was repaid for the trouble, for she found it +full of good things to eat, and a bottle of cold coffee and cream to +drink, with lumps of sugar and all complete. Beth had really displayed +the most thoughtful kindness in packing that bag. The contents she had +procured on a sudden impulse from a pastry-cook in the town, by +promising to pay the next time she passed.</p> + +<p>After having very much enjoyed a solid Melton Mowbray pie, a sausage in +puff-pastry, a sponge-cake, a lemon cheesecake, and two crisp brandy +snaps, and slowly sipped the coffee, Charlotte felt that this was the +only life worth living, and formally vowed to dedicate herself for ever +to the Secret Service of Humanity—Beth's name for these enterprises. +She kept a careful eye on the road below all this time, and there ran +through her head the while fragments of a ballad Beth had written, which +added very much to the charm of the occasion.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"> "The fir-trees whisper overhead,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Between the living and the dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I watch the livelong day.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I watch upon the mountain-side<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For one of courage true and tried,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Who should ride by this way,"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>it began. When she first heard that Beth had written that ballad, +Charlotte was astonished. It was the only assertion of Beth's she had +ever doubted; but Beth assured her that any one could write verses, and +convinced her by "making some up" there and then on a subject which she +got Charlotte to choose for her. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span></p> + +<p>Many things passed on the road below—teams of waggons, drawn by +beautiful big cart-horses with glossy coats, well cared for, tossing +their headland rattling the polished brasses of their harness proudly, +signs of successful farming and affluence; smart carriages with what +Beth called "silly-fool ladies, good for nothing," in them; a carrier's +cart, pedestrians innumerable, and then—then, at last, a solitary big +brown horse, ridden at a steady canter by a slender girl in a brown +habit (worn by her mother in her youth, and borrowed from her wardrobe +without permission for the occasion). The horse was a broken-down racer +with some spirit left, which Beth had hired, as she had procured the +provisions, on a promise to pay. In passing, she waved a white +handkerchief carelessly, as if she were flicking flies from the horse, +but <i>without relenting her speed</i>. This was the signal agreed upon. +Charlotte, glowing with excitement, and greatly relieved, watched the +adventurous rider out of sight; then trudged off bravely to the Flat +Rock, miles away behind the far pier, where she loyally deposited the +blue missive. The red one she destroyed by fire according to orders.</p> + +<p>Beth had warned her that she would be tired to death when she got in, +and had better snatch some repose in preparation for the night.</p> + +<p>"But if I oversleep myself and am not on the look-out for you when you +come, what will you do?" Charlotte objected.</p> + +<p>"Leave that to me," said Beth.</p> + +<p>And Charlotte did accordingly with perfect confidence.</p> + +<p>When she awoke the room was dark, but there was a motionless figure +sitting in the window, clearly silhouetted against the sky. Charlotte, +who expected surprises, was pleasantly startled.</p> + +<p>"Is all safe in the west, sister?" she said softly, raising herself on +her elbow.</p> + +<p>"Yes," was the reply, "but clouds are gathering in the north. Our hope +is in the east. Let us pray for the sunrise. You left the letter?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. As fast as I could fly I went."</p> + +<p>"Ah! then it will be gone by this time!" Beth ejaculated with +conviction. The Flat Rock was only uncovered at low water, and now the +tide was high. "Can you get me some food, little one, for I am +famished?" she proceeded. "I have had nothing since the morning, and +have ridden far, and have done much."</p> + +<p>"Oh dear! oh dear!" said Charlotte. "And you got me such good things!"</p> + +<p>"Ah! that was different," Beth rejoined.</p> + +<p>Charlotte stole downstairs. Her father had been out seeing his patients +all day, and had not troubled about her. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span></p> + +<p>She returned with chicken and ham, cold apple-tart and cream, and a +little jug of cider.</p> + +<p>Poor Beth, accustomed to the most uninteresting food, and not enough of +that, was so exhausted by her long fast and arduous labours, that she +found it difficult to restrain her tears at the sight of such good +things. She ate and drank with seemly self-restraint, however; it would +have lowered her much in her own estimation if she had showed any sign +of the voracity she felt.</p> + +<p>Then the watch began. Having wrapped themselves up in their walking +things to be ready for any emergency, they locked the door and opened +the window softly. They were in a room at the top of the house, which, +being next door to the Benyons, commanded the same extensive view down +the front street and a bit of Rock Street and the back street, and up +Orchard Street on the left to the church. They were watching for a +sailor in a smart yachting suit, a man-of-war's man with bare feet, and +a priest in a heavy black cloak. Beth, greatly refreshed and stimulated +by her supper and the cider, fell into her most fascinating mood; and +Charlotte listened enthralled to wonderful descriptions of places she +had visited with Hector, sights she had seen, and events she had taken +part in.</p> + +<p>"But how is it you are not missed from home when you go away like that?" +said Charlotte.</p> + +<p>"How is it I am not missed to-night?" Beth answered. "When you are fully +initiated into the Secret Service of Humanity you will find that things +happen in a way you would never suspect."</p> + +<p>"I suppose it is all right and proper being so much alone with single +gentlemen," Charlotte just ventured.</p> + +<p>"All things are right and proper so long as you do nothing wrong," Beth +answered sententiously.</p> + +<p>Lights began to move from room to room in the houses about them, +gigantic shadows of people appeared on white window blinds in fantastic +poses, and there was much moving to and fro as they prepared for bed. +Then one by one the lights went out, and in the little old-fashioned +window-panes the dark brightness of the sky and the crystal stars alone +were reflected. It was a fine clear night, the gas burnt brightly in the +quiet streets, there was not a soul stirring.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it exquisite?" said Beth, sniffing the sweet air. "I am glad I +was born, if it is only for the sake of being alive at night."</p> + +<p>After this they were silent. Then by degrees the desire for sleep became +imperative, and they both suffered acutely in their efforts to resist +it. Finally Charlotte was vanquished, and Beth made her lie down on the +bed. As she dropped off she saw + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span> + Beth sitting rigidly at the open +window; when she awoke it was bright daylight, and Beth was still there +in exactly the same attitude.</p> + +<p>"Beth," she exclaimed, "you are superhuman!"</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said Beth, with a mysterious smile, "when you have learnt to +listen to the whispers of the night, and know what they signify as I do, +you will not wonder. Marvellous things have been happening while you +slept."</p> + +<p>"O Beth!" said Charlotte reproachfully, "why didn't you wake me?"</p> + +<p>"I was forbidden," Beth answered sadly. "But now watch for me. It is +your turn, and I must sleep. A yachtsman or a man-of-war's man with bare +feet, remember."</p> + +<p>Beth curled herself up on the bed, and Charlotte, very weary and aching +all over, but sternly determined to do her duty, took her place in the +window. She had her reward, however, and when Beth awoke she found her +all on the alert, for she had seen the yachtsman. He came up the street +and hung about a little, pretending to look at the shops, then walked +away briskly, which showed Charlotte that the plot was thickening, and +greatly excited her. Beth smiled and nodded as though well satisfied +when she heard the news, but preserved an enigmatical silence.</p> + +<p>Then Charlotte went downstairs and smuggled her up such a good +breakfast—fried ham, boiled eggs, hot rolls with plenty of butter, and +delicious coffee—that the famishing Beth was fain to exclaim with +genuine enthusiasm—</p> + +<p>"In spite of all the difficulty, danger, and privation we have to endure +in the Secret Service of Humanity, Charlotte, is there anything to equal +the delight of it?"</p> + +<p>And Charlotte solemnly asseverated that there was not.</p> + +<p>Much stimulated by her breakfast, Beth took leave of Charlotte. She must +be alone, she said, she had much to think about. She went to the farther +shore to be away from everybody. She wanted to hear what the little +waves were saying to the sand as they rippled over it. It was another +grey day, close and still, and the murmur of the calm sea threw her at +once into a dreamy state, full of pleasurable excitement. She hid +herself in a spot most soothing from its apparent remoteness, a sandy +cove from which, because of the projecting cliffs on either hand, +neither town nor coast could be seen, but only the sea and sky. Although +the grey was uniform enough to make it impossible to tell where cloud +met water on the horizon, it was not dull, but luminous with the +sunshine it enfolded, and full of colour in fine gradations as Beth +beheld it. She sat a long time on the warm dry sand, with her chin +resting on her knees, and her hands clasped round them, not gazing with +seeing eyes nor listening + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> + with open ears, but apprehending through her +further faculty the great harmony of Nature of which she herself was one +of the triumphant notes. At that moment she tasted life at its best and +fullest—life all ease and grace and beauty, without regret or +longing—perfect life in that she wanted nothing more. But she rose at +last, and, still gazing at the sea, slowly unclasped her waistbelt, and +let it fall on the sand at her feet; then she took her hat off, her +dress, her boots and stockings, everything, and stood, ivory-white, with +bright brown wavy hair, against the lilac greyness under the tall dark +cliffs. The little waves had called her, coming up closer and closer, +and fascinating her, until, yielding to their allurements, she went in +amongst them, and floated on them, or lay her length in the shallows, +letting them ripple over her, and make merry about her, the gladdest +girl alive, yet with the wrapt impassive face of a devotee whose ecstasy +is apart from all that acts on mere flesh and makes expression. All +through life Beth had her moments, and they were generally such as this, +when her higher self was near upon release from its fetters, and she +arose an interval towards oneness with the Eternal.</p> + +<p>But on this occasion she was surprised in her happy solitude. A troop of +what Mrs. Caldwell called "common girls" came suddenly round the cliff +into her sheltered nook, with shouts of laughter, also bent on bathing. +Beth plunged in deeper to cover herself the moment they appeared; but +they did not expect her to have anything on, and her modesty was lost +upon them.</p> + +<p>"How's the water?" they shouted.</p> + +<p>"Delicious," she answered, glad to find them friendly.</p> + +<p>They undressed as they came along, and were very soon, all of them, +playing about her, ducking and splashing each other, and Beth also, +including her sociably in their game. And Beth, as was her wont, +responded so cordially that she was very soon heading the manœuvres.</p> + +<p>"We shall all be ill if we stay in any longer," she said at last. "I +shall take one more dip and go and dress. Let's all take hands and dip +in a row."</p> + +<p>They did so, and then, still hand in hand, scampered up on to the beach.</p> + +<p>"My!" one of them exclaimed, when they came to their clothes and had +broken the line,—"My! ain't <i>she</i> nice!"</p> + +<p>Then all the other girls stood and stared at Beth, whose fine limbs and +satin-smooth white skin, so different in colour and texture from their +own, drew from them the most candid expressions of admiration.</p> + +<p>Beth, covered with confusion, hurried on a garment all wet as she was, +for she had no towel; and then, in order to distract their attention +from her body, she began to display her mind. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Eh, I have had a good time!" one of the girls exclaimed. "Let's come +again often."</p> + +<p>"Let us form a secret society," said Beth, "and I will be your leader, +and we'll have a watchword and a sign; and when the water is right, I'll +send the word round, and then we'll start out unobserved, and meet here, +and bathe in secret."</p> + +<p>"My! that would be fine!" the girls agreed.</p> + +<p>"But that's not all," said Beth, standing with her chemise only half on, +oblivious of everything now but her subject. "It would be much better +than that. There would be much more in it. We could meet in the fields +by moonlight, and I would drill you, and show you a great many things, +all for the Secret Service of Humanity. You don't know what we're doing! +We're going to make the world just like heaven, and everybody will be +good and beautiful, and have enough of everything, and we shall all be +happy, because nobody will care to be happy unless everybody else has +been made so. But it will be very hard work to bring it about. The +wicked people are doing all they can to prevent us, and the devil +himself is fighting against us. We shall conquer, however; and those who +are first in the fight will be first for the glory!"</p> + +<p>The girls, some standing, some sitting, most of them with nothing on, +remained motionless while she spoke, not understanding much, yet so +moved by the power of her personality, that when she exclaimed, "Well, +what do you say, girls? will you join?" they all exclaimed with +enthusiasm, "We will! we will!"</p> + +<p>And then they made haste to dress as if the millennium could be hurried +here by the rate at which they put on their clothes. Beth then and there +composed a terrible oath, binding them to secrecy and obedience, and +swore them all in solemnly; then she chose one for her orderly, who was +to take round the word on occasion; and they were all to meet again in +the fields behind the church on Saturday at eight o'clock.</p> + +<p>But in the meantime, not a word!</p> + +<p>Beth made Charlotte captain of the band; and drills, bathing rites, and +other mysteries were regularly conducted, the girls being bound together +more securely by the fascination of Beth's discourses, and the continual +interest she managed to inspire, than by any respect they had for an +oath. Beth's interest in them extended to the smallest detail of their +lives. She knew which would be absent from drill because it was +washing-day, and which was weak for want of food; and she resumed her +poaching habits—only on Uncle James Patten's estate, of course—and, +having beguiled a gunsmith into letting her have an air-gun on credit, +she managed to snare and shoot birds enough to relieve their necessities +to an appreciable extent. She never let + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> + any one into the secret of +those supplies, and the mystery added greatly to her credit with the +girls.</p> + +<p>That season some friends of the Benyons brought their boys to stay at +Rainharbour for the holidays, and Beth varied her other pursuits by +rambling about with them, Lady Benyon having seen to it that she made +their acquaintance legitimately, for the old lady shrewdly suspected +that Beth was already beginning to attract attention. From her post of +observation in the window she had seen young men turn in the street and +look back at the slender girl, in spite of her short petticoats, with +more interest than many a maturer figure aroused; and she had heard that +Beth Caldwell was already much discussed. Beth's brother Jim, when he +came home that summer, also began to introduce her to his young men +friends in the neighbourhood, so that very soon Beth had quite a little +court about her on the pier when the band played. She liked the boys, +and the young men she found an absorbing study; but not one of them +touched her heart. Her acquaintance with Alfred had made her fastidious. +He had had sense enough to respect her, and his companionship had given +her a fine foretaste of the love that is ennobling, the love that makes +for high ideals of character and conduct, for fine purpose, spiritual +power, and intellectual development, the one kind worth cultivating. In +these more sophisticated youths she found nothing soul-sustaining. She +philandered with some of them up to the point where comparisons become +inevitable, and, so long as they met her in a spirit of frank +camaraderie, it was agreeable enough; but when, with their commonplace +minds, they presumed to be sentimental, they became intolerable. Still +the glow was there in her breast often and often, and would be +momentarily directed towards one and another; but the brightness of it +only showed the defects in each; and so she remained in love with love +alone, and the power of passion in her, thwarted, was transmuted into +mental energy.</p> + +<p>But Beth learnt a good deal from her young men that summer—learnt her +own power, for one thing, when she found that she could twist the whole +lot of them round her little finger if she chose. The thing about them +that interested her most, however, was their point of view. She found +one trait common to all of them when they talked to her, and that was a +certain assumption of superiority which impressed her very much at +first, so that she was prepared to accept their opinions as confidently +as they gave them; and they always had one ready to give on no matter +what subject. Beth, perceiving that this superiority was not innate, +tried to discover how it was acquired that she might cultivate it. +Gathering from their attitude towards her ignorance that this + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span> +superiority rested somehow on a knowledge of the Latin grammar, she +hunted up an old one of her brother's and opened it with awe, so much +seemed to depend on it. Verbs and declensions came easily enough to her, +however. The construction of the language was puzzling at the outset; +but, with a little help, she soon discovered that even in that there was +nothing occult. Any industrious, persevering person could learn a +language, she decided; and then she made more observations. She +discovered that, in the estimation of men, feminine attributes are all +inferior to masculine attributes. Any evidence of reasoning capacity in +a woman they held to be abnormal, and they denied that women were ever +logical. They had to allow that women's intuition was often accurate, +but it was inferior, nevertheless, they maintained, to man's uncertain +reason; and such qualities as were undeniable they managed to discount, +as, for instance, in the matter of endurance. If women were long +enduring, they said, it was not because their fortitude was greater, but +because they were less sensitive to suffering, and so, in point of fact, +suffered less than men would under the circumstances.</p> + +<p>This persistent endeavour to exalt themselves by lowering women struck +Beth as mean, and made her thoughtful. She began by respecting their +masculine minds as much as they did themselves; but then came a doubt if +they were any larger and more capable than the minds of women would be +if they were properly trained and developed; and she began to dip into +the books they prided themselves on having read, to see if they were +past her comprehension. She studied Pope's translation of the Iliad and +Odyssey indoors, and she also took the little volume out under her arm; +but this was a pose, for she could not read out of doors, there were +always so many other interests to occupy her attention—birds and +beasts, men and women, trees and flowers, land and water; all much more +entrancing than the Iliad or Odyssey. Long years afterwards she returned +to these old-world works with keen appreciation, and wondered at her +early self; but when she read them first, she took their meanings too +literally, and soon wearied of warlike heroes, however great a number of +their fellow-creatures they might slay at a time, and of chattel +heroines, however beautiful, which was all that Homer conveyed to her; +not did she find herself elated by her knowledge of their exploits. She +noticed, however, that the acquisition of such knowledge imposed upon +the boys, and gained her a reputation for cleverness which made the +young university prigs think it worth their while to talk to her. They +had failed to discover her natural powers because there was no one to +tell them she had any, and they only thought what they were told to +think about people and things, and admired what they were told + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span> to +admire. In this Beth differed from them widely, for she began by having +tastes of her own. She did not believe that they enjoyed Homer a bit +more than she did; but the right pose was to pretend that they did; so +they posed and pretended, according to order, and Beth posed and +pretended too, just to see what would come of it.</p> + +<p>It was a young tutor in charge of a reading-party who helped Beth with +the Latin grammar. He managed to ingratiate himself with Mrs. Caldwell, +and came often to the house; and finally he began to teach Beth Latin at +her own request, and with the consent of her mother. The lessons had not +gone on very long, however, before he tried to insinuate into his +teaching some of the kind of sophistries which another tutor had imposed +by way of moral philosophy on Rousseau's Madame de Warens in her +girlhood, to her undoing. This was all new to Beth, and she listened +with great interest; but she failed utterly to see why not believing in +a God should make it right and proper for her to embrace the tutor: so +the lessons ended abruptly. Beth profited largely by the acquaintance, +however,—not so much at the time, perhaps, as afterwards, when she was +older, and had gained knowledge enough of men of various kinds to enable +her to compare and reflect. It was her first introduction to the +commonplace cleverness of the academic mind, the mere acquisitive +faculty which lives on pillage, originates nothing itself, and, as a +rule, fails to understand, let alone appreciate, originality in others. +The young tutor's ambition was to be one of a shining literary clique of +extraordinary cheapness which had just then begun to be formed. The +taint of a flippant wit was common to all its members, and their +assurance was unbounded. They undertook to extinguish anybody with a few +fine phrases; and, in their conceited irreverence, they even attacked +eternal principles, the sources of the best inspiration of all ages, and +pronounced sentence upon them. Repute of a kind they gained, but it was +by glib falsifications of all that is noble in sentiment, thought, and +action, all that is good and true. It was the contraction of her own +heart, the chill and dulness that settled upon her when she was with +this man, as compared to the glow and expansion, the release of her +finer faculties, which she had always experienced when under the +influence of Aunt Victoria's simple goodness, that first put Beth in the +way of observing how inferior in force and charm mere intellect is to +spiritual power, and how soon it bores, even when brilliant, if +unaccompanied by other endowments, qualities of heart and soul, such as +constancy, loyalty, truthfulness, and that scrupulous honesty of action +which answers to what is expected as well as to what is known of us. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span></p> + +<p>Beth played very diligently at learning during this experiment, but only +played for a time. The mind in process of forming itself involuntarily +rejects all that is unnecessary, and that kind of knowledge was not for +her. It opened up no prospect of pleasure in itself. All she cared to +know was what it felt like to have mastered it; and that she arrived at +by resolving herself into a lady of great attainments, who talked +altogether about things she had learnt, but had nothing in her mind +besides. A mind with nothing else in it, in Beth's sense of the word, +was to Beth what plainness is to beauty; so, while many of her +contemporaries were stultifying themselves with Greek and Latin +ingenuities, she pursued the cultivation of that in herself which is +beyond our ordinary apprehension, that which is more potent than +knowledge, more fertilising to the mind—that by which knowledge is +converted from a fallow field into a fruitful garden. Altogether, apart +from her special subject, she learnt only enough of anything to express +herself; but it was extraordinary how aptly she utilised all that was +necessary for her purpose, and how invariably she found what she +wanted—if found be the right word; for it was rather as if information +were flashed into her mind from some outside agency at critical times +when she could not possibly have done without it.</p> + +<p>One sad consequence of her separation from Alfred, and the strange +things she did and dreamed for distraction in the unrest of her mind, +was a change in her constitution. Her first fine flush of health was +over, the equability of her temper was disturbed, and she became subject +to hysterical outbursts of garrulity, to fits of moody silence, to +apparently causeless paroxysms of laughter or tears; and she was always +anxious. She had real cause for anxiety, however, for, in her efforts to +realise her romance to Charlotte's satisfaction, she had run up little +bills all over the place. What would happen when they were presented, as +they certainly would be sooner or later, she dared not think; but the +dread of the moment preyed upon her mind to such an extent that, +whenever she heard a knock at the door, she entreated God to grant that +it might not be a bill. And even when there were no knocks, she went on +entreating to be spared, and worked herself into such a chronic fever of +worry that she was worn to a shadow, and developed a racking cough which +gave her no peace.</p> + +<p>Just at this time, too, the whole place began to be scandalised by her +vagaries, her mysterious expeditions on the big brown horse, and her +constant appearance in public with a coterie of young men about her. At +a time when anything unconventional in a girl was clear evidence of vice +to all the men and most of the women who knew of it, Beth's reputation +was +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span> + bound to suffer, and it became so bad at last that Dr. Hardy +forbade Charlotte to associate with her. Charlotte told her with tears, +and begged to be allowed to meet her in the Secret Service of Humanity +as usual; but Beth refused. She said it was too dangerous just then, +they must wait; the truth being that she was sick of the Secret Service +of Humanity, of Charlotte, of everything and everybody that prevented +her hearing when there was a knock at the door, and praying to the Lord +that it might not be a bill.</p> + +<p>The secret society was practically dissolved by this time, and very soon +afterwards the catastrophe Beth had been dreading occurred, and wrought +a great change in her life. It happened one day when she was not at +home. Aunt Grace Mary was so alarmed by her cough and the delicacy of +her appearance that she had braved Uncle James and carried her off to +stay with her at Fairholm for a change. Once she was away from the sound +of the knocks, Beth suffered less, and began to revive and be herself +again to the extent of taking Aunt Grace Mary into her confidence +boldly.</p> + +<p>"Beth, Beth, Beth!" said that poor good lady tenderly, "you naughty +girl, how could you! Running in debt with nothing to pay; why, it isn't +honest!"</p> + +<p>"So <i>I</i> think," said Beth in cordial agreement, taking herself aside +from her own acts, as it were, and considering them impartially. "Help +me out of this scrape, Aunt Grace Mary, and I'll never get into such +another."</p> + +<p>"But how much do you owe, Beth dear?"</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I don't know," Beth answered. "Pounds for Tom Briggs alone."</p> + +<p>"Who's <i>he</i>?" was Aunt Grace Mary's horrified exclamation.</p> + +<p>"Oh, only the horse—a dark bay with black points. I rode him a lot, and +oh! it <i>was</i> nice! It was like poetry, like living it, you know, like +being a poem one's self. And I'm glad I did it. If I should die for it, +I couldn't regret it. And I shouldn't wonder if I did die, for I feel as +if those knocks had fairly knocked me to bits."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, Beth, you silly child, don't talk like that," said Aunt Grace +Mary. "What else do you owe?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, then there's Mrs. Andrews, the confectioner's, bill."</p> + +<p>"Confectioner's!" Aunt Grace Mary exclaimed. "O Beth! I never thought +you were greedy."</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't think I am," Beth answered temperately. "I've been very +hungry, though. But I never touched any of those good things myself. I +only got them for Charlotte when she had heavy work to do for the Secret +Service of Humanity."</p> + +<p>"The <i>what</i>?" Aunt Grace Mary demanded. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The game we played. Then there's the hairdresser's bill, that must be +pretty big. I had to get curls and plaits and combs and things, besides +having my hair dressed for entertainments to which I was obliged to +go——"</p> + +<p>"Beth! <i>are</i> you mad?" Aunt Grace Mary interrupted. "You've never been +to an entertainment in your life."</p> + +<p>"No," Beth answered casually, "but I've played at going to no end of a +lot."</p> + +<p>"Well, this is the most extraordinary game I ever heard of!"</p> + +<p>"But it was such an exciting game," Beth pleaded with a sigh.</p> + +<p>"But, my dear child, such a reckless, unprincipled game!"</p> + +<p>"But you don't think of that at the time," Beth assured her. "It's all +real and right then. We——"</p> + +<p>But here the colloquy was interrupted by the arrival of Mrs. Caldwell in +a state of distraction with the hairdresser's bill in her hand. Aunt +Grace Mary made her sit down, and patted her shoulder soothingly. Uncle +James was out. Beth, greatly relieved, looked on with interest. She knew +that the worst was over.</p> + +<p>"Never mind, Caroline," Aunt Grace Mary said cheerfully. "Beth has just +been telling me all about it. Confession is good for the saints, you +know, or the soul, or something; so that's cheering. She has been very +naughty, very naughty indeed, but she is very sorry. She sincerely +regrets. Hairdresser, did you say? Oh, give it to me! Now, do give it to +me, <i>there's</i> a dear! And we won't have another word about it. Beth, you +bad girl, be good, and say you repent."</p> + +<p>"Say it!" Beth ejaculated, coughing. "Look at me, and you'll see it, +Aunt Grace Mary. I've been repenting myself to pieces for months."</p> + +<p>"Well, dear; well, dear," Aunt Grace Mary rejoined, beaming blandly, +"that will do; that's enough, I'm sure. Mamma forgives you, so we'll +have no more about it."</p> + +<p>The hairdresser's bill was the only one Mrs. Caldwell ever heard of, for +Aunt Grace Mary got the use of her pony carriage next day, by telling +Uncle James her mamma had sent Caroline to say she particularly wished +her to take Beth to see her. Uncle James, to whom any whim of Lady +Benyon's was wisdom, ordered the carriage for them himself; and, as they +drove off together, Aunt Grace Mary remarked to Beth, "I think I managed +that very cleverly; don't you?" Naturally estimable women are forced +into habits of dissimulation by the unreason of the tyrant in authority +in many families; and Aunt Grace Mary was one of the victims. She had +been obliged to resort to these small deceits for so many years, that +all she felt about them now was a sort of + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span> + mild triumph when they were +successful. "I mean to go and see mamma, you know, so it won't be any +story," she added.</p> + +<p>She went with Beth first, however, to the various shops where Beth owed +money, and paid her debts; and Beth was so overcome by her generosity, +and so anxious to prove her repentance, that she borrowed sixpence more +from her, and went straightway to the hairdresser's, and had all her +pretty hair cropped off close like a boy's, by way of atonement. When +she appeared, Lady Benyon burst out laughing; but her mother was even +more seriously annoyed than she had been by the hairdresser's bill. +Beth's hair had added considerably to her market value in Mrs. +Caldwell's estimation. She would not have put it so coarsely, but that +was what her feeling on the subject amounted to.</p> + +<p>"What is to be done with such a child?" she exclaimed in despair.</p> + +<p>"Send her to school," Aunt Grace Mary gasped.</p> + +<p>"She would be expelled in a month," Mrs. Caldwell averred.</p> + +<p>"Possibly; but it would be worth the trial," Aunt Grace Mary rejoined in +her breathless way.</p> + +<p>"Yes," Lady Benyon agreed. "She has been at home far too long, running +wild, and it's the only thing to be done. But let it be a strict +school."</p> + +<p>"How am I to afford it?" Mrs. Caldwell wailed, rocking herself on her +chair.</p> + +<p>"Well, there's the Royal Service School for Officers' Daughters; you can +get her in there for next to nothing, and it's strict enough," Lady +Benyon suggested.</p> + +<p>And finally, after the loss of some more precious time, and with much +reluctance, Mrs. Caldwell yielded to public opinion, and decided to +deprive Jim of Beth's little income, and send Beth to school, some new +enormities of Beth's having helped considerably to hasten her mother's +decision.</p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXIX"></a>CHAPTER XXIX</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Caldwell's</span> married life had been one long +sacrifice of herself, her +health, her comfort, her every pleasure, to what she conceived to be +right and dutiful. Duty and right were the only two words approaching to +a religious significance that she was not ashamed to use; to her all the +other words savoured of cant, and even these two she pronounced without +emphasis or solemnity, lest the sense in which she used them might be +mistaken for a piece of religiosity. Of the joy and gladness of religion +the poor lady had no conception. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span></p> + +<p>Nevertheless, as has already been said, Mrs. Caldwell was an admirable +person, according to the light of her time. To us she appears to have +been a good woman marred, first of all, by the narrow outlook, the +ignorance and prejudices which were the result of the mental +restrictions imposed upon her sex; secondly, by having no conception of +her duty to herself; and finally, by those mistaken notions of her duty +to others which were so long inflicted upon women, to be their own curse +and the misfortune of all whom they were designed to benefit. She had +sacrificed her health in her early married life to what she believed to +be her duty as a wife, and so had left herself neither nerve nor +strength enough for the never-ending tasks of the mistress of a +household and mother of a family on a small income, the consequence of +which was that shortness of temper and querulousness which spoilt her +husband's life and made her own a burden to her. She was highly +intelligent, but had carefully preserved her ignorance of life, because +it was not considered womanly to have any practical knowledge of the +world; and she had neglected the general cultivation of her mind partly +because intellectual pursuits were a pleasure, and she did not feel +sufficiently self-denying if she allowed herself any but exceptional +pleasures, but also because there was a good deal of her husband's work +in the way of letters and official documents that she could do for him, +and these left her no time for anything but the inevitable making and +mending. Busy men take a sensible amount of rest and relaxation, of food +and fresh air, and make good speed; but busy women look upon outdoor +exercise as a luxury, talk about wasting time on meals, and toil on +incessantly yet with ever-diminishing strength, because they take no +time to recoup; therefore they recede rather than advance; all the extra +effort but makes for leeway.</p> + +<p>The consequence of Mrs. Caldwell's ridiculous education was that her +judgment was no more developed in most respects than it had been in her +girlhood, so that when she lost her husband and had to act for her +children, she had nothing better to rely on for her guidance than +time-honoured conventions, which she accepted with unquestioning faith +in their efficacy, even when applied to emergencies such as were never +known in the earlier ages of human evolution to which they belonged. She +had starved herself and her daughters in mind and body in order to +scrape together the wherewithal to send her sons out into the world, but +she had let them go without making any attempt to help them to form +sound principles, or to teach them rules of conduct such as should keep +them clean-hearted and make them worthy members of society; so that all +her privation had been worse than vain, it had been mischievous; for the +boys, unaided by any + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span> + scheme or comprehensive view of life, any +knowledge of the meaning of it to show them what was worth aiming at, +and also unprotected by positive principles, had drifted along the +commonest course of self-seeking and self-indulgence, and were neither a +comfort nor a credit to her. However, she was satisfied that she had +done her best for them, and therefore, being of the days when the +woman's sphere was home exclusively, and home meant, for the most part, +the nursery and the kitchen, she sat inactive and suffered, as was the +wont of old-world women, while her sons were sinning all the sins which +she especially should have taught them to abhor; and, with regard to her +girls, she was equally satisfied that she had done the right thing by +them under the circumstances. She could not have been made to comprehend +that Beth, a girl, was the one member of the family who deserved a good +chance, the only one for whom it would have repaid her to procure extra +advantages; but having at last been convinced that there was nothing for +it but to send Beth to school, she set to work to prepare her to the +best of her ability. Her own clothes were in the last stage of +shabbiness, but what money she had she spent on getting new ones for +Beth, and that, too, in order that she might continue the allowance to +Jim as long as possible. She made a mighty effort also to teach Beth all +that was necessary for the entrance examination into the school, and +sewed day and night to get the things ready—in all of which, be it +said, Beth helped to the best of her ability, but without pride or +pleasure, because she had been made to feel that she was robbing Jim, +and that her mother was treating her better than she deserved, and the +feeling depressed her, so that the much-longed-for chance, when it came, +found her with less spirit than she had ever had to take advantage of +it.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Beth!" her mother said to her, seeing her so subdued, "I thought +you would repent when it was too late. You won't find it so easy and +delightful to have your own way as you suppose. When it comes to leaving +home and going away among strangers who don't care a bit about you, you +will not be very jubilant, I expect. You know what it is when Mildred +leaves home, how she cries!"</p> + +<p>"Summer showers, soft, warm, and refreshing," Beth snapped, irritated by +the I-told-you-so tone of superiority, which, when her mother assumed +it, always broke down her best resolutions, and threw her into a state +of opposition. "Mildred the Satisfactory has the right thing ready for +all occasions."</p> + +<p>The result of this encounter was an elaborate pose. In dread of her +mother's comments, should she betray the feeling expected of her, she +set herself to maintain an unruffled calm of demeanour, whatever +happened. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span></p> + +<p>Autumn was tinting the woods when Beth packed up. The day before her +departure she paid a round of visits, not to people, but to places, +which shows how much more real the life of her musings was to her at +that time than the life of the world. She got up at daybreak and went +and sat on the rustic seat at the edge of the cliff where the stream +fell over on to the sand, and thought of the first sunrise she had ever +seen, and of the puritan farmer who had come out and reprimanded her +ruggedly for being there alone at that unseemly hour. Poor man! His +little house behind her was shut up and deserted, the garden he had kept +so trim was all bedraggled, neglect ruled ruin all over his small +demesne, and he himself was where the worthy rest till their return. The +thought, however, at that hour and in that heavenly solitude, where +there was no sound but the sea-voice which filled every pause in an +undertone with the great song of eternity it sings on always, did not +sadden Beth, but, on the contrary, stimulated her with some singular +vague perception of the meaning of it all. The dawn was breaking, and +the spirit of the dawn all about her possessed and drew her till she +revelled in an ecstasy of yearning towards its crowning glory—Rise, +Great Sun! When she first sat down, the hollow of the sky was one dark +dome, only relieved by a star or two; but the darkness parted more +rapidly than her eyes could appreciate, and was succeeded, in the hollow +it had held, by rolling clouds monotonously grey, which, in turn, ranged +themselves in long low downs, irregularly ribbed, and all unbroken, but +gradually drawing apart until at length they were gently riven, and the +first triumphant tinge of topaz colour, pale pink, warm and clear, like +the faint flush that shyly betrays some delicate emotion on a young +cheek, touched the soft gradations of the greyness to warmth and +brightness, then mounted up and up in shafts to the zenith, while behind +it was breathed in the tenderest tinge of turquoise blue, which shaded +to green, which shaded to primrose low down on the horizon, where all +was shining silver. Then, as the grey, so was the colour riven, and rays +of light shot up, crimson flashes of flame, which, while Beth held her +breath, were fast followed from the sea by the sun, that rose enwrapt in +their splendour, while the water below caught the fine flush, and heaved +and heaved like a breast expanding with delight into long deep sighs.</p> + +<p>Beth cried aloud: "O Lord of Loveliness! how mighty are Thy +manifestations!"</p> + +<p>Later in the day she climbed to the top of the hill where Charlotte had +kept her faithful watch for the dark-brown horse, and there, beneath the +firs, she sat looking out, with large eyes straining far into the vague +distance where Hector had been. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span></p> + +<p>The ground was padded with pine-needles, briony berries shone in the +hedgerows below, and hips and haws and rowans also rioted in red. +Brambles were heavy with blue-black berries, and the bracken was +battered and brown on the steep hill-side. Down in the road a team of +four horses, dappled bays with black points and coats as glossy as +satin, drawing a waggon of wheat, curved their necks and tossed their +heads till the burnished brasses of their harness rang, and pacing with +pride, as if they rejoiced to carry the harvest home. On the top of the +wheat two women in coloured cotton frocks rested and sang—sang quite +blithely.</p> + +<p>Beth watched the waggon out of sight, then rose, and turning, faced the +sea. As she descended the hill she left that dream behind her. Hector, +like Sammy and Arthur, passed to the background of her recollections, +where her lovers ceased from troubling, and the Secret Service of +Humanity, superseded, was no more a living interest.</p> + +<p>Beth went also to the farther sands to visit the spot where she had been +surprised in the water by the girls, and had become the white priestess +of their bathing rites, and taught that girls had a strength as great as +the strength of boys, but different, if only they would do things. Mere +mental and physical strength were what Beth was thinking of; she knew +nothing of spiritual force, although she was using it herself at the +time, and doing with it what all the boys in the diocese, taken +together, could not have done. She had heard of works of the Spirit, and +that she should pray to be imbued with it; but that she herself was pure +spirit, only waiting to be released from her case of clay, had never +been hinted to her.</p> + +<p>The next day she travelled with her mother from the north to the south, +and during the whole long journey there was no break in the unruffled +calm of her demeanour. Her mother wondered at her, and was irritated, +and fussed about the luggage, and fumed about trains she feared to miss; +but Beth kept calm. She sat in her corner of the carriage looking out of +the window, and the world was a varied landscape, to every beauty of +which she was keenly alive, yet she gave no expression to her +enthusiasm, nor to the discomfort she suffered from the August sun, +which streamed in on her through the blindless window, burning her face +for hours, nor to her hunger and fatigue; and when at last they came to +the great house by the river, and her mother, having handed her over to +Miss Clifford, the lady principal, said, somewhat tearfully, "Good-bye, +Beth! I hope you will be happy here. But be a good girl." Beth answered, +"Thank you. I shall try, mamma," and kissed her as coolly as if it were +her usual good-night. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span></p> + +<p>"We do not often have young ladies part from their mothers so placidly," +Miss Clifford commented.</p> + +<p>"I suppose not," Mrs. Caldwell said, sighing.</p> + +<p>Beth felt that she was behaving horridly. There was a lump in her +throat, and she would liked to have shown more feeling, but she could +not. Now, when she would have laid aside the mask of calmness which she +had voluntarily assumed, she found herself forced to wear it. +Falsifications of our better selves are easily entered upon, but hard to +shake off. They are evil things that lurk about us, ready but powerless +to come till we call them; but, having been called, they hold us in +their grip, and their power upon us to compel us becomes greater than +ours upon them.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell felt sore at heart when she had gone, and Beth was not +less sore. Each had been a failure in her relation to the other. Mrs. +Caldwell blamed Beth, and Beth, in her own mind, did not defend herself. +She forbore to judge.</p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXX" id="CHAPTER_XXX"></a>CHAPTER XXX</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">St. Catherine's Mansion,</span> the Royal Service School for Officers' +Daughters, had not been built for the purpose, but bought, otherwise it +would have been as ugly to look at as it was dreary to live in. As it +was, however, the house was beautiful, and so also were the grounds +about it, and the views of the river, the bridge with its many arches, +and the grey town climbing up from it to the height above.</p> + +<p>Beth was still standing at the top of the steps under the great portico, +where her mother had left her, contemplating the river, which was the +first that had flowed into her experience.</p> + +<p>"Come, come, my dear, come in!" some one behind her exclaimed +impatiently. "You're not allowed to stand there."</p> + +<p>Beth turned and saw a thin, dry, middle-aged woman, with keen dark eyes +and a sharp manner, standing in the doorway behind her, with a +gentler-looking lady, who said, "It is a new girl, Miss Bey. I expect +she is all bewildered."</p> + +<p>"No, I am not at all bewildered, thank you," Beth answered in her easy +way. As she spoke she saw two grown-up girls in the hall exchange +glances and smile, and wondered what unusual thing she had done.</p> + +<p>"Then you had better come at once," Miss Bey rejoined drily, "and let me +see what you can do. Please to remember in future that the girls are not +allowed to come to this door."</p> + +<p>She led the way as she spoke, and Beth followed her across + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span> the hall, up +a broad flight of steps opposite the entrance, down a wide corridor to +the right, and then to the right again, into a narrow class-room, and +through that again into another inner room.</p> + +<p>"These are the fifth and sixth rooms," Miss Bey remarked,—"fifth and +sixth classes."</p> + +<p>They were furnished with long bare tables, forms, hard wooden chairs, a +cupboard, and a set of pigeon-holes. Miss Bey sat down at the end of the +table in the "sixth," with her back to the window, and made Beth sit on +her left. There were some books, a large slate, a slate pencil, and damp +sponge on the table.</p> + +<p>"What arithmetic have you done?" Miss Bey began.</p> + +<p>"I've scrambled through the first four rules," Beth answered.</p> + +<p>"Set yourself a sum in each, and do it," Miss Bey said sharply, taking a +piece of knitting from a bag she held on her arm, and beginning to knit +in a determined manner, as if she were working against time.</p> + +<p>Beth took up the slate and pencil, and began; but the sharp click-click +of the needles worried her, and her brain was so busy studying Miss Bey +she could not concentrate her mind upon the sums.</p> + +<p>Miss Bey waited without a word, but Beth was conscious of her keen eyes +fixed upon her from time to time, and knew what she meant.</p> + +<p>"I'm hurrying all I can," she said at last.</p> + +<p>"You'll have to hurry more than you can, then, in class," Miss Bey +remarked, "if this is your ordinary rate of work."</p> + +<p>When the sums were done, she took the slate and glanced over them. "They +are every one wrong," she said; "but I see you know how to work them. +Now clean the slate, and do some dictation."</p> + +<p>She took up a book when Beth was ready, and began to read aloud from it. +Beth became so interested in the subject that she forgot the dictation, +and burst out at last, "Well, I never knew that before."</p> + +<p>"You are doing dictation now," Miss Bey observed severely.</p> + +<p>"All right, go on," Beth cheerfully rejoined.</p> + +<p>Miss Bey did not go on, however, and on looking up to see what was the +matter, Beth found her gazing at her with bent brows.</p> + +<p>"May I ask what your name is?" Miss Bey inquired.</p> + +<p>"Beth Caldwell."</p> + +<p>"Then allow me to inform you, Miss Beth Caldwell, that 'all right, go +on,' is not the proper way to address the head-mistress of the Royal +Service School for Officers' Daughters." + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Thank you for telling me," Beth answered. "You see I don't know these +things. I always say that to mamma."</p> + +<p>"Have you ever been to school before?" Miss Bey asked.</p> + +<p>"No," Beth answered.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" Miss Bey ejaculated, with peculiar meaning. "Then you will have a +great deal to learn."</p> + +<p>"I suppose so," Beth rejoined. "But that's what I came for, you know—to +learn. It's high time I began!"</p> + +<p>She fixed her big eyes on the blank wall opposite, and there was a +sorrowful expression in them. Miss Bey noted the expression, and nodded +her head several times, but there was no relaxation of her peremptory +manner when she spoke again.</p> + +<p>"Go on, my dear," she said. "If I give as much time to the others as you +are taking, I shall not get through the new girls to-night."</p> + +<p>Beth finished her dictation.</p> + +<p>"What a hand!" Miss Bey exclaimed. "Wherever did you learn to write like +that?"</p> + +<p>"I taught myself to write small on purpose," Beth replied. "You can get +so much more on to the paper."</p> + +<p>"You had better have taught yourself to spell, then," Miss Bey rejoined. +"There are four mistakes in this one passage."</p> + +<p>Beth balanced her pencil on her finger with an air of indifference. She +was wondering how it was that the head-mistress of the Royal Service +School for Officers' Daughters used the word "wherever" as the vulgar +do.</p> + +<p>The examination concluded with some questions in history and geography, +which Beth answered more or less incorrectly.</p> + +<p>"I shall put you here in the sixth," Miss Bey informed her; "but rather +for your size than for your acquirements. There is a delicate girl, much +smaller than you are, in the first."</p> + +<p>"Then I'd rather be myself, tall and strong, in the sixth," Beth +rejoined. "If I don't catch her up, at all events I shall have more +pleasure in life, and that's something."</p> + +<p>Again Miss Bey gazed at her; but she was too much taken aback by Beth's +readiness to correct her on the instant, although it was an unaccustomed +and a monstrous thing for a girl to address a mistress in an easy +conversational way, let alone differ from her.</p> + +<p>She took Beth to the great class-room where the seventh and eighth +worked, and the fifth and sixth joined them for recreation and +preparation, and where also the Bible lessons were given by Miss +Clifford to the whole school.</p> + +<p>There were a good many girls of various ages in the room, who all looked +up.</p> + +<p>"This is a new girl," Miss Bey said, addressing them generally,—"Miss + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span> +Beth Caldwell. Please to show her where to go and what to do."</p> + +<p>She glanced round keenly as she spoke, then left the room; and at the +same time a thin, sharp-looking little girl with short hair rose from +the table at which she was sitting and went up to Beth.</p> + +<p>"I'm head of the fifth," she said. "Has Bey been examining you? What +class did she put you in?"</p> + +<p>"The sixth," Beth said.</p> + +<p>"I should have thought you'd have been in the third at least," the head +of the fifth piped, "you're so big. Here are some sixth girls—Jessie +Baker, Ina Formby, Rosa Bird."</p> + +<p>The sixth girls were sitting at a round table, with their little desks +before them, writing letters. One of them pulled out a chair for Beth. +They had just returned from the holidays, and were in various stages of +home-sickness—some of them crying, and the rest depressed; but they +welcomed Beth kindly, as one of themselves, and inspected her with +interest.</p> + +<p>"You can write a private letter to-day, you know," Rosa Bird said to +Beth.</p> + +<p>"What is a private letter?" Beth asked.</p> + +<p>"One to your mother, you know, that isn't read. You seal it up yourself. +Public letters have to be sent in open to Miss Clifford. One week you +write a public letter, and the next a private one. Hello! here's Amy +Wynne!"</p> + +<p>A dark girl of about eighteen had entered by a door at the farther end +of the room, and was received with acclamation, being evidently popular. +Beth, who was still in her mask of calm indifference, looked coldly on, +but in herself she determined to be received like that some day.</p> + +<p>Most of the girls in the room jumped up, and Amy Wynne kissed one after +the other, and then shook hands with Beth.</p> + +<p>"Are all my children back?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," Rosa Bird rejoined, glancing round. "They are not all +here."</p> + +<p>"That's one of the mothers," Rosa explained to Beth when Amy Wynne had +gone again. "The first-class girls are mothers to us. You walk with your +mother in the garden, and sit with her on half-holidays, and she's +awfully good to you. I advise you to be one of Amy Wynne's children if +you can." She was interrupted by the loud ringing of a bell in the hall. +"That's for tea," Rosa added. "Come, and I'll show you the way."</p> + +<p>The big dining-room was downstairs in the basement, next the kitchen. +Miss Clifford dined in the next room attended by her maids of honour +(the two girls at the top of the first class for the time being) and the +rest of the class except the girls at the + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span> + bottom, who were degraded to +the second-class table in the big dining-room. Here each two classes had +a separate table, at either end of which a teacher sat on a Windsor +chair. The girls had nothing but hard benches without backs to sit on. +Miss Bey, the housekeeper Miss Winch, and the head music-mistress, +irreverently called Old Tom by the girls, sat at a separate table, +where, at dinner-time, they did all the carving, and snatched what +little dinner they could get in the intervals, patiently and foolishly +regardless of their own digestions. For tea there were great dishes of +thick bread and butter on all the tables, which the girls began to hand +round as soon as grace had been said. Each class had a big basin of +brown sugar to put in the tea, which gave it a coarse flavour. The first +cup was not so bad, but the second was nothing but hot water poured +through the teapot. It was not etiquette to take more than two. When the +girls were ready for a second, they put pieces of bread in their saucers +that they might know their own again, and passed the cups up to the +teacher who poured out tea. If any girl suspected that the cup returned +to her was not her own, she would not touch the tea. When the meal was +over, one of the girls took the sugar-basin, beat down the sugar in it +flat and hard with the spoon, did a design on the top, and put it away.</p> + +<p>"What's that for?" Beth asked.</p> + +<p>"That's so that we shall know our own again," Rosa answered. "But it +never lasts the proper time."</p> + +<p>"What do you do when it's done?" said Beth.</p> + +<p>"Do without," was the laconic rejoinder.</p> + +<p>All the girls were talking at once.</p> + +<p>"What a racket!" Beth exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"It'll be quiet enough to-morrow," Rosa replied. "The first class talks +at table in Miss Clifford's room, but we are not allowed to speak a word +here, except to the teachers, nor in the bedrooms either, once work +begins. Do you see that great fat old thing at the mistress's table? +That's Old Tom, the head music-mistress. She is a greedy old cat! She +likes eating! You can see it by the way she gloats over things, and +she's quite put out if she doesn't get exactly what she wants. Fancy +caring! It's just like a man; and that's why she's called Old Tom."</p> + +<p>"Not that she's fastidious!" said Agnes Stewart, a tall slender girl +with short crisp black hair and grey-green eyes, who was sitting +opposite to Beth. "I believe she likes mutton."</p> + +<p>"Oh, she's horrid enough for anything!" the girl next her exclaimed with +an expression of disgust.</p> + +<p>Some of the girls ate their thick bread and butter unconcernedly, others +were choked with tears, and could not touch it. Most of the tearful ones +were new girls, and the old ones were + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span> + kind to them; the teachers, too, +were sympathetic, and did their best to cheer them.</p> + +<p>After tea they all returned to their class-rooms. Beth went and stood in +one of the great windows looking out on to the grounds, the river, the +old arched bridge, and the grey houses of the town climbing up the hill +among the autumn-tinted trees. All the windows were shut, and she began +to feel suffocated for want of fresh air, and bewildered by the clatter +of voices. If only she could get out into the garden! The door at the +end of the room, which led into the first and second, was open. She went +through. But before she was half across the room, one of the elder girls +exclaimed roughly, "Hello! what are you doing here?"</p> + +<p>"It's a new girl, Inkie," another put in.</p> + +<p>"Well, the sooner she learns she has no business here the better," Inkie +rejoined.</p> + +<p>Beth thought her exceedingly rude, and passed on into the vestibule +unconcernedly.</p> + +<p>"Well, that's cool cheek!" Inkie exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Hie—you—new girl! come back here directly, and go round the other +way, just to teach you manners."</p> + +<p>Beth turned back with flaming cheeks, looked at her hard a moment.</p> + +<p>"That for <i>your</i> manners!" she said, snapping her fingers at her.</p> + +<p>Amy Wynne rose from her seat and went up to Beth. "You must learn at +once, Miss Caldwell," she said, "that you will not be allowed to speak +to the elder girls like that."</p> + +<p>"Then the elder girls had better learn at once," said Beth defiantly, +"that they will not be allowed to speak to me as your Inkie-person did +just now. You'll not teach me manners by being rude to me; and if any +girl in the school is ever rude to me again, I'll box her ears. Now, I +apologise for coming through your room, but you should keep the door +shut."</p> + +<p>When she had spoken, she returned to the big class-room deliberately, +and crossed it to the other door. As she did so, she noticed that a +strange hush had fallen upon the girls, and they were all looking at her +curiously. She went into the hall, and was passing the vestibule door, +when Miss Bey, who was sitting just inside knitting, stopped her.</p> + +<p>"Where are you going, Miss Caldwell?" she asked in her sharp way.</p> + +<p>"Upstairs," Beth answered.</p> + +<p>"You speak shortly, Miss Caldwell. It would have been more polite to +have mentioned my name."</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon, Miss Bey," Beth rejoined. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span></p> + +<p>Miss Bey bowed with a severe smile in acknowledgment of the apology. +"What do you want upstairs?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"To be alone," Beth answered. "I can't stand the noise."</p> + +<p>"You must stand the noise," said Miss Bey. "Girls are not allowed to go +upstairs without some very good reason; and they must always ask +permission—politely—from the teacher on duty. I am the teacher on duty +at this moment. If you had gone upstairs without permission, I should +have given you a bad mark."</p> + +<p>Beth looked longingly at the hall door, which had glass panels in the +upper part, through which she could see the river and the trees. "What a +prison this is!" she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>Miss Bey had had great experience of girls, and her sharp manner, which +was mainly acquired in the effort to maintain discipline, somewhat +belied her kindly nature.</p> + +<p>"You can bring a chair from the hall, and sit here beside me, if you +like," she said to Beth.</p> + +<p>"Thank you," Beth answered. "This <i>is</i> better," she said when she was +seated. "May I talk to you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, certainly," said Miss Bey.</p> + +<p>There was a great conservatory behind them as they sat looking into the +hall; on their left was the third and fourth class-room, on their right +the first and second; the doors of both stood open.</p> + +<p>"Did you hear the row I had in there just now?" Beth asked, nodding +towards the first and second.</p> + +<p>"I did," said Miss Bey. "But you mustn't say 'row,' it is vulgar."</p> + +<p>"Difficulty, then," Beth rejoined. "But what did you think of it?"</p> + +<p>Miss Bey reflected. The question as Beth put it was not easy to answer. +"I thought you were both very much in the wrong," she said at last.</p> + +<p>"Well, that is fair, at all events," Beth observed with approval. "I +don't mean to break any of your rules when I know what they are, and I +bet you I won't have a bad mark, if there's any way to help it, the +whole time I am at school; but I'm not going to be sat upon by anybody."</p> + +<p>Miss Bey pursed up her mouth and knitted emphatically. She was +accustomed to naughty girls, but the most troublesome stood in awe of +the teachers.</p> + +<p>"My dear," she said, after a little pause, "I honour your good +resolutions; but I must request you not to say 'I'll bet,' or talk about +'being sat upon.' Both expressions are distinctly unladylike. I must +also tell you that at school the teachers are not on the same level as +the girls; they are in authority, you see."</p> + +<p>"I see," said Beth. "I spoke to you as one lady might speak to another. +I won't again, Miss Bey." + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span></p> + +<p>Miss Bey paused once more, with bent brows, to reflect upon this +ambiguous announcement; but not being able to make anything of it, she +proceeded: "It is a matter of discipline. Without strict discipline an +establishment of this size would be in a state of chaos. The girls must +respect the teachers, and the younger girls must respect the elder ones. +All become elder ones in turn, and are respected."</p> + +<p>"Well, <i>I</i> mean to be respected all through," Beth declared, and set her +mouth hard on the determination.</p> + +<p>At eight o'clock Miss Bey rang a big handbell for prayers, and the whole +household, including the servants, came trooping into the hall. The +girls sat together in their classes, and, when all were in their places, +Miss Clifford came in attended by her maids-of-honour, mounted the +reading-desk, and read the little service in a beautiful voice devoutly. +Beth softened as she listened, and joined in with all her heart towards +the end.</p> + +<p>When prayers were over, and the servants had gone downstairs, one of the +maids-of-honour set a chair under the domed ceiling in front of the +vestibule for Miss Clifford, who went to it from the reading-desk, and +sat there. Then the first-class girls rose and left their seats in +single file, and each as she passed walked up to Miss Clifford, took the +hand which she held out, and curtsied good-night to her. The other +classes followed in the same order. Miss Clifford said a word or two to +some of the girls, and had a smile for all. When Beth's turn came, she +made an awkward curtsey in imitation of the others. Miss Clifford held +her hand a moment, and looked up into her face keenly; then smiled, and +let her go. Beth felt that there was some special thought behind that +smile, and wondered what it was. Miss Clifford made it her duty to know +the character, temper, constitution, and capacity of every one of the +eighty girls under her, and watched carefully for every change in them. +This good-night, which was a dignified and impressive ceremony, gave her +an opportunity of inspecting each girl separately every day, and very +little escaped her. If a girl looked unhappy, run down, overworked, or +otherwise out of sorts, Miss Clifford sent for her next morning to find +out what was the matter; and she was scolded, comforted, put on extras, +had a tonic to take, or was allowed another hour in bed in the morning, +according to the necessities of her case.</p> + +<p>The girls who were in certain bedrooms sat up an hour after prayers, and +had dry bread and water for supper; they turned to the left and went +back to their class-rooms when they had made their curtseys. The others +turned to the right and went upstairs. Beth was one of these. She was in +No. 6. There were several beds in the room, and beside each bed was a +washstand, and a + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span> + box for clothes. The floor was carpetless. There were +white curtains hung on iron rods to be drawn round the beds and the +space beside them, so that each girl had perfect privacy to dress and +undress. The curtains were all drawn back for air when the girls were +ready, but no girl drew her curtain without the permission of the girl +next to her. When a bell rang, they all knelt down, and had ten minutes +for private prayers night and morning, the bell being rung again when +the time was up. The girls had to turn down their beds to air them +before they left their rooms in the morning. They had an hour's lessons +before breakfast, then prayers. After prayers the monitresses rose from +their seats below the reading-desk, and, as they filed out, each in turn +reported if any one had spoken or not spoken in the bedrooms. Breakfast +consisted of thick bread and butter and tea for the girls, with the +addition of an insufficient quantity of fried bacon for the teachers. +After breakfast the girls went upstairs again and made their beds in a +given time; then all but a few, who were kept in for music, went out +into the garden for half-an-hour. Beth had to go out that first morning. +The sun was shining, bright drops sparkled on grass and trees, the air +was heavy with autumn odours, but fresh and sweet, and the birds chirped +blithely. Beth felt like a free creature once more directly she got out, +and, throwing up her arms with a great exclamation of relief after the +restraint indoors, she ran out on to the wide grass-plot in front of the +house at the top of her speed.</p> + +<p>"Come back, come back, new girl!" cried the head French mistress, +Mademoiselle Duval, the teacher on duty. "You are not allowed to go on +the grass, nor must you run in that unseemly way."</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry," said Beth. "I didn't know."</p> + +<p>She moved off on to the path which overlooked the river, and began to +walk soberly up and down, gazing at the water.</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle!" the French mistress screamed again shrilly, "come away +from there! The girls are not allowed to walk on that path."</p> + +<p>"Oh dear!" said Beth. "Where may I go?"</p> + +<p>"Just go where you see the other girls go," Mademoiselle rejoined +sharply.</p> + +<p>Not being a favourite, the French mistress was left to wander about +alone. Popular teachers always had some girls hanging on to their arms +out in the garden, and sitting with them when they were on duty indoors; +but Mademoiselle seldom had a satellite, and never one who was +respected. The girls thought her deceitful, and deceit was one of the +things not tolerated in the school. Miss Bey was believed to be above +deceit of any kind, and was liked and respected accordingly in spite of +her angular appearance, + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span> + sharp manner, the certainty that she was not a +lady by birth, and the suspicion that her father kept a shop. The girls +had certain simple tests of character and station. They attend more to +each other's manners in the matter of nicety at girls' schools than at +boys', more's the pity for those who have to live with the boys +afterwards. If a new girl drank with her mouth full, ate audibly, took +things from the end instead of the side of a spoon, or bit her bread +instead of breaking it at dinner, she was set down as nothing much at +home, which meant that her people were socially of no importance, not to +say common; and if she were not perfectly frank and honest, or if she +ever said coarse or indelicate things, she was spoken of contemptuously +as a dockyard girl, which meant one of low mind and objectionable +manners, who was in a bad set at home and made herself cheap after the +manner of a garrison hack, the terms being nearly equivalent. There was +no pretence of impossible innocence among the elder girls, but neither +was there any impropriety of language or immodesty of conduct. Certain +subjects were avoided, and if a girl made any allusion to them by +chance, she was promptly silenced; if she recurred to them persistently, +she was set down at once as a dockyard girl and an outsider. The +consequence of this high standard was an extremely good tone all through +the school.</p> + +<p>Beth turned into the lime-tree avenue, where she met several sets of +girls all walking in rows with their arms round each other. None of them +took any notice of her, until she got out on to the drive, where she met +Amy Wynne with her children. Amy let go the two she had her arms round, +sent them all on, and stopped to speak to Beth.</p> + +<p>"Have you no mother?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"I have one at home," Beth answered coldly in spite of herself.</p> + +<p>"But you know our custom here," Amy rejoined. "The elder girls are +mothers to the young ones."</p> + +<p>"I know," said Beth, "but I don't want a mother. I should hate to have +my thoughts interrupted by a lot of little girls in a row, all cackling +together."</p> + +<p>"I was going to offer," Amy began, "but, of course, if you are so +self-reliant, it would only be an impertinence."</p> + +<p>"Oh no!" said Beth, sincerely regretting her own ungraciousness. "It is +kind of you, and if it were you alone, I should be glad, but I could not +stand the others."</p> + +<p>"Well, I hope you won't be lonely," Amy answered, and hurried on after +her children.</p> + +<p>"Lonely I must be," Beth muttered to herself with sudden foreboding.</p> + +<p>When the girls went in, Beth was summoned to the big music-room. "Old +Tom" was there with Dr. Centry, who came twice + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span> + a week to hear the girls +play. There were twelve pianos in the room, ten upright and two grand, +besides Old Tom's own private grand, all old, hard, and metallic; and +twelve girls hammered away on them, all together, at the same piece; but +if one made a mistake, Old Tom instantly detected it, and knew which it +was.</p> + +<p>"Do ye know any music?" she asked Beth in a gruff voice with a rough +Scotch accent.</p> + +<p>"A little," Beth answered.</p> + +<p>"What, for instance?" Old Tom pursued, looking at Beth as if she were a +culprit up for judgment.</p> + +<p>"Some of Chopin," Beth replied. "I like him best."</p> + +<p>Old Tom raised her eyebrows incredulously. "Sit down here and play one +of his compositions, if you please—here, at my piano," she said, +opening the instrument.</p> + +<p>But Beth felt intimidated for once, partly by the offensive manners of +the formidable-looking old woman, her bulk and gruffness, but also +because Old Tom's doubt of her powers, which she perceived, was shaking +her confidence. She sat down at the piano, however, and struck a few +notes; then her nerve forsook her.</p> + +<p>"I can't play," she said. "I'm nervous."</p> + +<p>"Humph!" snarled Old Tom. "I thought that 'ud be your Chopin! Go and +learn exercises with the children in Miss Tait's class-room."</p> + +<p>Miss Tait, acting on Old Tom's report, put Beth into one of her lower +classes, and left her to practise with the beginners. When she had gone, +Beth glanced at the exercises, and then began to rattle them off at such +a rate that no one in the class could keep up with her. Miss Tait came +hurrying back.</p> + +<p>"Who is that playing so fast?" she said. "Was it you, Miss Caldwell?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," Beth answered.</p> + +<p>"Then you must go into a higher class," said Miss Tait.</p> + +<p>But the same thing happened in every class until at last Beth had run up +through them all, as up a flight of stairs, into Old Tom's first. Her +piano in the first, when the whole class was present and she had no +choice, was a hard old instrument, usually avoided because it was the +nearest to the table at which Old Tom sat (when she did not walk about) +during a lesson. The first time Beth took her place at it, the other +girls were only beginning to assemble, and Old Tom was not in the room. +A great teasing of instruments, as Old Tom called it, was going on. A +new piece was to be taken that morning, and each girl began to try it as +soon as she sat down, so that they were all at different passages. They +stopped, however, and looked up when Beth appeared. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That's your piano," the head girl said.</p> + +<p>"I hope you'll like it!" one of the others added sarcastically.</p> + +<p>"Oh, but I'm glad to be here!" said Beth, striking a few firm chords. +"Now I feel like Chopin," and she burst out into one of his most +brilliant waltzes triumphantly.</p> + +<p>Old Tom had come in while she was speaking, but Beth did not see her. +Old Tom waited till she had done.</p> + +<p>"Oh, so now ye feel like Chopin, Miss Caldwell," she jeered. "And it +appears ye are not above shamming nervous when it suits ye to mak' +yerself interesting. I shall remember that."</p> + +<p>Old Tom taught by a series of jeers and insults. If a girl were poor, +she never failed to remind her of the fact. "But, indeed, ye're beggars +all," was her favourite summing up when they stumbled at troublesome +passages. Most of the girls cowered under her insults, but Beth looked +her straight in the face at this second encounter, and at the third her +spirit rose and she argued the point. Old Tom tried to shout her down, +but Beth left her seat, and suggested that they should go and get Miss +Clifford to decide between them. Then Old Tom subsided, and from that +time she and Beth were on amicable terms.</p> + +<p>Beth had an excellent musical memory when she went to school, but she +lost it entirely whilst she was there, and the delicacy of her touch as +well; both being destroyed, as she supposed, by the system of practising +with so many others at a time, which made it impossible for her to feel +what she was playing or put any individuality of expression into it.</p> + +<p>On that opening day, Beth had to go from the music-room to her first +English lesson in the sixth. All the girls sat round the long narrow +table, Miss Smallwood, the mistress, being at the end, with her back to +the window. The lesson was "Guy," a collection of questions and answers, +used also by the first-class girls, only that they were farther on in +the book. Who was William the Conqueror? When did he arrive? What did he +do on landing? and so on. Beth, at the bottom of the class on Miss +Smallwood's right, was in a good position to ask questions herself. She +could have told the whole history of William the Conqueror in her own +language after once reading it over; but the answers to the questions +had to be learnt by heart and repeated in the exact language of the +book, and in the struggle to be word-perfect enough to keep up with the +class, the significance of what she was saying was lost upon her. It was +her mother's system exactly, and Beth was disappointed, having hoped for +something different These pillules of knowledge only exasperated her; +she wanted enough to enable her to grasp the whole situation. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What is the use of learning these little bits by heart about William +the Conqueror and the battle of Hastings, and all that, Miss Smallwood?" +she exclaimed one day.</p> + +<p>"It is a part of your education, Beth," Miss Smallwood answered +precisely.</p> + +<p>"I know," Beth grumbled, "but couldn't one read about it, and get on a +little quicker? I want to know what he did when he got here."</p> + +<p>"Why, my dear child, how can you be so stupid? You have just said he +fought the battle of Hastings."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but what did the battle of Hastings do?" Beth persisted, making a +hard but ineffectual effort to express herself.</p> + +<p>"Oh, now, Beth, you are silly!" Miss Smallwood rejoined impatiently, and +all the girls grinned in agreement. But it was not Beth who was silly. +Miss Smallwood had had nothing herself but the trumpery education +provided everywhere at that time for girls by the part of humanity which +laid undisputed claim to a superior sense of justice, and it had not +carried her far enough to enable her to grasp any more comprehensive +result of the battle of Hastings than was given in the simple philosophy +of Guy. Most of the girls at the Royal Service School would have to work +for themselves, and teaching was almost the only occupation open to +them, yet such education as they received, consisting as it did of mere +rudiments, was an insult to the high average of intelligence that +obtained amongst them. They were not taught one thing thoroughly, not +even their own language, and remained handicapped to the end of their +lives for want of a grounding in grammar. When you find a woman's +diction at fault, never gird at her for want of intelligence, but at +those in authority over her in her youth, who thought anything in the +way of education good enough for a girl. Even the teachers at St. +Catherine's, some of them, wrote in reply to invitations, "I shall have +much pleasure in accepting." The girls might be there eight years, but +were never taught French enough in the time either to read or speak it +correctly. Their music was an offence to the ear, and their drawings to +the eye. History was given to them in outlines only, which isolated +kings and their ministers, showing little or nothing of their influence +on the times they lived in, and ignoring the condition of the people, +who were merely introduced as a background to some telling incident in +the career of a picturesque personage; and everything else was taught in +the same superficial way—except religion. But the fact that the +religious education was good in Beth's time was an accident due to Miss +Clifford's character and capacity, and therefore no credit to the +governors of the school, who did not know that she was specially +qualified in that respect + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span> + when they made her Lady Principal. She was a +high-minded woman, Low Church, of great force of character and exemplary +piety, and her spirit pervaded the whole school. She gave the Bible +lessons herself in the form of lectures which dealt largely with the +conduct of life; and as she had the power to make her subject +interesting, and the faith which carries conviction, both girls and +mistresses profited greatly by her teaching. Many of them became deeply +religious under her, and most of them had phases of piety; whilst there +were very few who did not leave the school with yearnings at least +towards honour and uprightness, which were formed by time and experience +into steady principles.</p> + +<p>Beth persisted in roaming the garden alone. She loved to hover about a +large fountain there, with a deep wide basin round it, in which +gold-fish swam and water-lilies grew. She used to go and hang over it, +peering into the water, or, when the fountain played, she would loiter +near, delighting in the sound of it, the splash and murmur.</p> + +<p>One of the windows of Miss Clifford's sitting-room overlooked this part +of the garden, and Beth noticed the old lady once or twice standing in +the window, but it did not occur to her that she was watching her. One +day, however, Miss Clifford sent a maid-of-honour to fetch her; and Beth +went in, wondering what she had done, but asked no questions; calm +indifference was still her pose.</p> + +<p>Miss Clifford dismissed the maid-of-honour. She was sitting in her own +special easy-chair, and Beth stood before her.</p> + +<p>"My dear child," she said to Beth, "why are you always alone? Are the +girls not kind to you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, thank you," Beth answered, "they are quite kind."</p> + +<p>"Then why are you always alone?"</p> + +<p>"I like it best."</p> + +<p>"Are you sure," said Miss Clifford, "that the others do not shun you for +some reason or other?"</p> + +<p>"One of them wished to be my mother," Beth rejoined, "but I did not care +about it."</p> + +<p>"But you cannot be happy always alone like that," Miss Clifford +observed.</p> + +<p>Beth was silent.</p> + +<p>Miss Clifford looked at her earnestly for a little, then she shook her +head.</p> + +<p>"I tell you what I will do if you like, Miss Clifford," Beth said upon +reflection. "I will form a family of my own."</p> + +<p>Miss Clifford smiled. "Ah! I see you are ambitious," she said, "but, my +dear child, a sixth girl can't expect to have that kind of influence." + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It is not ambition," Beth answered, "for I shall feel it no +distinction, only a great bother. Nevertheless, I will do it to show you +that I am not shunned; and to please you, as you do not like me to +wander alone."</p> + +<p>A week or two later Beth appeared in the garden with six of the worst +girls in the school clinging to her, fascinated by her marvellous talk.</p> + +<p>Miss Clifford sent for her again. "I am sorry to see you in such +company," she said. "Those girls are all older than you are, and they +will lead you into mischief."</p> + +<p>"On the contrary, Miss Clifford," Beth replied, "I shall keep them out +of mischief. Not one of them has had a bad mark this week."</p> + +<p>Then Miss Clifford sent for Miss Smallwood, the mistress of the sixth. +"What do you make of Beth Caldwell?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"I can't make anything of her," Miss Smallwood answered. "I think she +tries, but she does not seem able to keep up with the other girls at +all. She seldom knows a lesson or does a sum correctly. I sometimes +think she ought to be in the eighth. But then occasionally she shows a +knowledge far beyond her years; not a knowledge of school work, but of +books and life."</p> + +<p>"How about her themes?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know what to think of them; they are too good. But she declares +emphatically that she does them all out of her own head."</p> + +<p>"What sort of temper has she?"</p> + +<p>"Queer, like everything else about her. Not unamiable, you know, but +irritable at times, and she has days of deep depression, and moments of +extreme elation."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" Miss Clifford ejaculated, and then reflected a little. "Well, be +patient with her," she said at last. "If she hasn't exceptional ability +of some kind, I am no judge of girls; but she is evidently unaccustomed +to school work, and is suffering from the routine and restraint, after +being allowed to run wild. She should have been sent here years ago."</p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXI" id="CHAPTER_XXXI"></a>CHAPTER XXXI</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">From</span> the foregoing it will be seen that Beth made her mark upon the +school from the day of her arrival in the way of getting herself +observed and talked about. She was set down as queer to begin with, and +when lessons began both girls and mistresses decided that she was +stupid; and queer she remained to the end in the estimation of those who +had no better word to express it, but + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span> + with regard to her stupidity +there soon began to be differences of opinion.</p> + +<p>At preparation one evening she talked instead of doing her work, and +gradually all the girls about her had stopped to listen.</p> + +<p>"Gracious!" Beth exclaimed at last, "the bell will go directly, and I've +not done a sum. Show me how to work them, Rosa."</p> + +<p>"Oh, bother!" Rosa rejoined. "Find out for yourself! My theme was +turned, and I've got to do it again."</p> + +<p>"Look here," said Beth, "if you'll do my sums, I'll do your theme now, +and your thorough bass on Thursday."</p> + +<p>"I wish to goodness you wouldn't talk, Beth!" Agnes Stewart exclaimed. +"We shall all get bad marks to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Then why do you listen?" Beth retorted.</p> + +<p>"I can't help it," Agnes grumbled. "You fascinate me. I should have +thought you were clever if I had only heard you talk, and not known what +a duffer you are at your lessons."</p> + +<p>"Well, she's not a duffer at thorough bass anyway," Rosa put in. "She +only began this term, and she's a long way ahead even of some of the +first. Old Tom's given her a little book to herself."</p> + +<p>"I began thorough bass with the rest of you," Beth observed. "It's the +only thing we started fair in. You are years ahead of me in all the +other work."</p> + +<p>The girls reflected upon this for a little.</p> + +<p>"And you can write themes," Rosa finally asseverated.</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's nothing," Beth protested. "Themes are easy enough. I could +write them for the whole school."</p> + +<p>"Well, that's no reason why you should put your nose in your cup every +time you drink," Lucy Black, the sharpest shrimp of a girl in the class, +said, grinning.</p> + +<p>"I never did such a thing in my life," Beth exclaimed, turning crimson. +"You'll say I eat audibly next."</p> + +<p>"No, you don't do that," Rosa said solemnly; "but you do put your nose +in your cup."</p> + +<p>The colour flickered on Beth's sensitive cheek, and she shrank into +herself.</p> + +<p>"There, don't tease her!" Mary Wright, the eldest, stupidest, and most +motherly girl in the school, exclaimed. "How can you drink without +putting your nose in your cup, stupid?"</p> + +<p>Then Beth saw it and smiled, greatly relieved. This venerable pleasantry +was a sign that she had been taken once for all into the good graces of +her schoolmates. The girls who were liked were usually nicknamed and +always chaffed; the rest were treated with different degrees of +politeness, the dockyard girls, as the lowest of all, being called miss, +even by the teachers.</p> + +<p>On Thursday evenings the girls in the fifth and sixth were + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span> allowed to +do fancy work for an hour while a story-book was read aloud to them, +either by Miss Smallwood or one of themselves when her voice was tired. +The book was always either childish or dull, generally both, and Beth, +who had been accustomed to Scott, Dickens, and Thackeray, grew restive +under the infliction. One evening when she had twice been reprimanded +for yawning aggressively, she exclaimed, "Well, Miss Smallwood, it is +such silly stuff! Why, I could tell you a better story myself, and make +it up as I go on."</p> + +<p>"Then begin at once and tell it," said Miss Smallwood, glancing round at +the girls, who smiled derisively, thinking that Beth would have to +excuse herself and thereby tacitly acknowledge that she had been +boasting. To their surprise, however, Beth took the request seriously, +settled herself in her chair, folded her hands, and, with her eyes +roaming about the room as if she were picking up the details from the +walls, the floor, the ceiling, and all it contained, started without +hesitation. It was the romantic story of a haunted house on a great +rocky promontory, and the freshness and sound of the sea pervaded it. +The girls went on with their work for a little, but by degrees first one +and then another stopped, and just sat staring at Beth, while gravity +settled on every face as the interest deepened.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the bell rang, and the story was not finished.</p> + +<p>"Oh dear!" Miss Smallwood exclaimed, "it is very fascinating, Beth; but +I really am afraid I ought not to have allowed you to tell it. I had no +idea—I must speak to Miss Clifford."</p> + +<p>The fame of this wonderful story spread through the school, and the next +half-holiday the first-class girls sent to ask Beth to go to their room +and repeat it; but Beth was not in the mood, and answered their +messenger tragically:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Twas not for this I left my father's home!<br /></span> +<span class="i0"> Go, tell your class, that Vashti will not come."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"Vashti's a little beast, I think," the head girl observed when the +message was delivered.</p> + +<p>Miss Clifford also sent for Beth, and requested her to repeat the story, +that she might judge for herself if she should be allowed to go on with +it; and Beth repeated it, being constrained; but the recital was so +wearisome that Miss Clifford dismissed her before she was half-way +through, with leave to finish it if anybody cared to hear it. When +Thursday came, the girls and Miss Smallwood cared very much to hear it, +and Beth, stimulated by their clamours, went on without a break for the +whole hour, and ended with a description of a shipwreck, which was so +vivid that the whole class was shaken with awe, and sat silent for a +perceptible time after she stopped. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span></p> + +<p>Beth could rarely be persuaded to repeat this performance; but from that +time her standing was unique, both with girls and mistresses, a fact, +however, of which she herself was totally unaware. She felt her +backwardness in school work and nothing else, and petitioned God +incessantly to help her with her lessons, and get her put up; and put up +she was regularly until she reached the third, when she was among the +elder girls. She was never able to do the work properly of any class she +was in, however, and her class mistresses were always against her being +put up, but Miss Clifford insisted on it.</p> + +<p>Beth was never anything but miserable at school. The dull routine of the +place pressed heavily upon her, and everything she had to do was +irksome. The other girls accommodated themselves more or less +successfully to the circumstances of their lives; but Beth in herself +was always at war with her surroundings, and her busy brain teemed with +ingenious devices to vary the monotony. The confinement, want of +relaxation, and of proper physical training, very soon told upon her +health and spirits, as indeed they did upon the greater number of the +girls, who suffered unnecessarily in various ways. Beth very soon had to +have an extra hour in bed in the morning, a cup of soup at eleven +o'clock, a tonic three times a day, and a slice of thick bread and +butter with a glass of stout on going to bed; such things were not +stinted during Miss Clifford's administration; but it was a case of +treating effects which all the time were being renewed by causes that +might and ought to have been removed, but were let alone.</p> + +<p>St. Catherine's Mansion was regulated on a system of exemplary dulness. +There is a certain dowager still extant who considers it absurd to +provide amusement for people of inferior station. All people who earn +their living are people of inferior station to her; she has never heard +of such a thing as the dignity of labour. Because many of the girls at +St. Catherine's were orphans without means, and would therefore have to +earn their own living as governesses when their education was finished, +the dowager-persons who interested themselves in the management of the +school had used their influence strenuously to make the life there as +much of a punishment as possible. "You cannot be too strict with girls +in their position," was what they continually averred, their own +position by birth being in no way better, and in some instances not so +good, as that of the girls whom they were depriving of every innocent +pleasure natural to their age and necessary for the good of their health +and spirits. They were not allowed to learn dancing; they had no outdoor +games at all, not even croquet—nothing whatever to exhilarate them and +develop them physically except an hour's "deportment," + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span> the very mildest +kind of calisthenics, in the big class-room once a fortnight, and the +daily making of their little beds. For the rest, monotonous walks up and +down the garden-paths in small parties, or about the dreary roads two +and two in long lines, was their only exercise, and even in this they +were restricted to such a severe propriety of demeanour that it almost +seemed as if the object were to teach them to move without betraying the +fact that they had legs. The consequence of all this restraint was a low +state of vitality among the girls, and the outbreak of morbid phases +that sometimes went right through the school. Beth, as might have been +expected, was one of the first to be caught by anything of this kind; +and she arrived, by way of her own emotions, at the cause of a great +deal that was a mystery to older people, and also thought out the cure +eventually; but she suffered a great deal in the process of acquiring +her special knowledge of the subject. She was especially troubled by her +old malady—depression of spirits. Sometimes, on a summer evening, when +all the classes were at preparation, and the whole great house was +still, a mistress would begin to practise in one of the music-rooms, and +Beth would be carried away by the music, so that work was impossible. +One evening, when this happened, she sat, with a very sad face, looking +out on the river. Pleasure-boats were gliding up and down; a gay party +went by, dancing on the deck of a luxurious barge to the music of a +string-band; a young man skimmed the surface in a skiff, another punted +two girls along; and people walked on the banks or sat about under the +trees, and children played—and they were all free! Suddenly Beth burst +into tears. Miss Smallwood questioned her. Was she ill? had she any +pain? had any one been unkind to her? No? What was the matter then? +Nothing; she was just miserable!</p> + +<p>"Beth, don't be so silly," Miss Smallwood remonstrated. "A great girl +like you, crying for nothing! It is positively childish."</p> + +<p>The other girls stole glances at her and looked grave. At the beginning +of the term they would not have sympathised perhaps; but this was the +middle, and many of them were in much the same mood themselves.</p> + +<p>When the bell rang, and the recreation hour began, they got out their +little bits of fancy-work, and such dull childish books as they were +allowed, and broke up into groups. Beth was soon surrounded by the +cleverer girls in the class.</p> + +<p>"I sympathise with you, Beth," said Janey North, a red-haired Irish +girl, "for I felt like it myself, I did indeed."</p> + +<p>"Will the holidays never be here?" sighed Rosa Bird.</p> + +<p>"I can't think why I stay at all," said Beth. "I hate it—I hate it all +the time." + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But how could one get away?" said Janey.</p> + +<p>"Only by being ill," Agnes Stewart answered darkly. She was a delicate +girl, and from that time she starved herself resolutely, until she was +so wasted that Miss Clifford in despair sent her home. Another girl was +seized with total deafness suddenly, and had also to go; the change +brought her hearing back in a very short time; and some of the dockyard +girls received urgent summonses from dying relations, and were allowed +to go to them. They always returned the brighter for the experience.</p> + +<p>One day, after the weather became cold, a girl appeared in class wrapped +up in a shawl, and with her head all drawn down to one side. Her neck +was stiff, and she could not straighten it. She was sent to the +infirmary. The girls thought her lucky. For it was warm there, and nurse +was kind, and sang delightful songs. She would be able to do fancy-work, +too, and read as much as she liked, and would not have to get up till +she had had her breakfast and the fire was lighted, and need not trouble +about lessons at all—a stiff neck was a very small drawback to the +delights of such a change.</p> + +<p>Next day another girl's neck was stiff. Miss Smallwood searched for a +draught, but did not succeed in finding one. That evening at prayers one +of the girls in the first appeared in a shawl with her head on one side +and a white worn face; and next day there was another case from the +third and fourth. So it was evident that there was something like an +epidemic going through the school; but the doctor had never seen one of +the kind before, and was at a loss to account for it. The cases were all +exactly alike: stiff neck, with the head drawn down to one side, +accompanied by feverishness, and followed by severe prostration.</p> + +<p>Beth sat with a stolid countenance, and stared solemnly at every girl +that was attacked, as if she were studying her case. Then, one morning, +she came down in a shawl herself, with her head on one side and a very +white face. Nurse marched her off at once to the infirmary, and put her +in a bed beside the fire, and Beth, as she coiled herself up, and +realised that she need not worry about lessons, or rush off to practise +when the bell rang, or go out to walk up and down in the garden till she +hated every pebble on the path, heaved a great sigh of relief and fell +asleep. When she awoke the doctor was feeling her pulse.</p> + +<p>"She's very low," he said. "Is she a delicate girl naturally?"</p> + +<p>"She looked strong enough when she came to school," nurse answered; "but +she soon went off, as so many of them do."</p> + +<p>"The loss of vitality amongst them is really extraordinary," the doctor +observed. "Give her port wine and beef-tea. Don't keep her in bed too +much, but don't hurry her up. Rest and relief from lessons is the great +thing." + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span></p> + +<p>Some healthy pleasure to vary the monotonous routine, some liberty of +action and something to look forward to, would have been better; but +nobody thought of that.</p> + +<p>How many of those necks were really stiff beyond the will of the +sufferer to move it, no one will ever know; but when it occurred to Beth +to straighten her own one day, she found no difficulty.</p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXII" id="CHAPTER_XXXII"></a>CHAPTER XXXII</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">When</span> Beth was moved into the upper school, she came under the direct +influence of Miss Crow, the English mistress of the third and fourth, +who had been educated at St. Catherine's herself, and was an ardent +disciple of Miss Clifford's. Beth, although predisposed to pietism, had +not been sensibly influenced by Miss Clifford's teaching heretofore; +now, however, she attached herself to Miss Crow, who began at once to +take a special interest in her spiritual welfare. She encouraged Beth to +sit and walk with her when she was on duty, and invited her to her room +during recreation in order to talk to her earnestly on the subject of +salvation, or to read to her and expound portions of Scripture, fine +passages from religious books, and beautiful hymns. Some of the hymns +she took the trouble to copy out for Beth's help and comfort when they +were specially appropriate to the needs of her nature, such as "Calm me, +my God, and keep me calm," or specially suited to her case, like "Call +me! and I will answer, gladly singing!" Beth responded readily to her +kindness, and very soon became a convert to her views; but she did not +stop there, for it was not in Beth's nature to rest content with her own +conversion while there were so many others still sitting in darkness who +might be brought to the light. No sooner was she convinced herself than +she began to proselytise among the other girls, and in a short time her +eloquence and force of character attracted a following from all parts of +the school. Miss Crow told Miss Clifford that she spoke like one +inspired, and high hopes were entertained of the work which they +somewhat prematurely concluded she was destined to do. Unfortunately +Beth's fervent faith received a check at a critical time when it was +highly important to have kept it well nourished—that is to say, when +she was being prepared for confirmation. It happened when Miss Crow was +hearing the girls their Scripture lesson one morning, the subject being +the escape of the children of Israel from Egypt, and the destruction of +Pharaoh's hosts in the Red Sea.</p> + +<p>"I know a man who says the whole of that account has + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span> been garbled," +Beth remarked in a dreamy way, meaning Count Gustav Bartahlinsky, but +not thinking much of what she was saying.</p> + +<p>Miss Crow nearly dropped the Bible, so greatly was she startled and +shocked by the announcement.</p> + +<p>"Beth!" she exclaimed, directly the class was over and she could speak +to Beth privately, "how could you be so wicked as to say that anything +in Holy Scripture is a garbled account?"</p> + +<p>"I said I knew a man who said so," Beth answered, surprised that so +simple a remark should have created such consternation.</p> + +<p>But Miss Crow saw in her attitude a dangerous tendency to scepticism, +and expressed strong condemnation of any one who presumed to do other +than accept Holy Writ in blind unquestioning faith. She talked to Beth +with horror about the ungodly men who cast doubt on the unity of the +Bible, called its geology in question, and even ventured to correct its +chronology by the light of vain modern scientific discoveries; and Beth +shocked her again by the questions she asked, and the intelligent +interest she showed in the subject. She told Miss Crow that Count Gustav +had also said that the Old Testament was bad religion and worse history, +but she did not know that other people had thought so too. Whereupon +Miss Crow went to Miss Clifford and reported Beth's attitude as +something too serious for her to deal with alone, and Miss Clifford sent +for Beth and talked to her long and earnestly. She told her that it was +absurd for a girl of her age to call in question the teaching of the +best and greatest men that ever lived, which somehow reminded Beth of +the many mistakes made by the best and greatest men that ever lived, of +their differences of opinion and undignified squabbles, the instances of +one man discovering and suffering for a truth which the rest refused to +accept, and the constant modification, alteration, and rejection by one +generation of teaching which had been upheld by another with brutality +and bloodshed,—instances of all of which were notorious enough even to +be known at a girls' school. Beth said very little, however; but she +determined to read the Bible through from beginning to end, and see for +herself if she could detect any grounds for the mischief-making doubts +and controversies she had been hearing about. She began in full faith, +but was brought up short at the very outset by the discrepancy between +the first and second chapters of Genesis, which she perceived for the +first time. She went steadily on, however, until she had finished the +Book of Job, and then she paused in revolt. She could not reconcile the +dreadful experiment which had entailed unspeakable suffering and loss +irreparable upon a good man with any attribute she had been accustomed +to revere in her deity. There might be some + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span> + explanation to excuse this +game of god and devil, but until she knew the excuse she would vow no +adhesion to a power whose conduct on that occasion seemed contrary to +every canon of justice and mercy. She did not belong to the servile age +when men, forgetting their manhood, fawned on patrons for what they +could get, and cringingly accepted favours from the dirtiest hands. Even +her God must be worthy to help her, worthy to be loved, good as well as +great. The God who connived at the torment of Job could not be the God +of her salvation.</p> + +<p>Beth had spoken casually in class. She had never questioned her +religion, and would not have done so now if the remark had been allowed +to pass; but the fuss that was made about it, and the severity with +which she was rebuked, by putting her mind into a critical attitude, had +the effect of concentrating her attention on the subject; so that it was +the very precautions which were taken to check her supposed scepticism +that first made her sceptical. The immediate consequence was that she +gave up preaching and refused to be confirmed. Miss Clifford, Miss Crow, +and the chaplain argued, expostulated, and punished in vain. It was the +first case of the kind that had occurred in the school, and Beth was +treated as a criminal; but she felt more like a martyr, and was not to +be moved. She did not try to make partisans for herself, however; on the +contrary, she deserted her family as well as her congregation, and took +to wandering about alone again; but she was not unhappy. Her old faith +had gone, it is true, but it had left the way prepared for a new one. +She did not believe in the God of Job—because she was sure that there +must be a better God—that was all.</p> + +<p>From this time, however, her imagination rode rampant once more over +everything. The vision and the dream were upon her. All wholesome +interest in her work was over. There was an old piano in the +reception-room which the girls were allowed to use for their amusement +on half-holidays, and she often went there; but even when she practised, +she moved her fingers mechanically, her mind busy with vivid scenes and +moving dramatic incidents; so that her beloved music was gradually +converted from an object in itself into an aid to thought.</p> + +<p>It was only six weeks to the holidays, but oh! how the days dragged! She +struggled to be conscientious, to be good, to please Miss Crow, to +escape bad marks; but everything was irksome. Getting up, lessons, +breakfast, making her bed, practising, lessons again, dressing, going +out, dinner—the whole round of regular life was an effort. Her face +grew thin and pale, she began to cough, and was put upon extras again. +"We can't let you go home looking like that, you know," nurse said. Beth +looked up at her out of her dream absently and smiled. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span> She was enjoying +a visionary walk at the moment with a vague being who loved her. They +were out on a white cliff overlooking the sea in a wild warm region. The +turf they trod on was vivid green, and short and springy; the water +below was green and bright and clear, sea-birds skimmed the surface, and +the air was sweet. But presently the road was barred by a rail, so they +had to stop, and he put his arm round her, and she laid her head on his +shoulder; and the murmur of wind and water was in her ears, and she +became as the lark that sang above them, the curlew that piped, the +quiet cattle, and all inanimate things—untroubled, natural, complete. +All intellectual interest being suspended, she had begun to yearn for a +companion, a mate. Her delicate mind refused to account for the tender +sensation; but it was love, or rather the mood for love she had fallen +into—the passive mood, which can be converted into the active in an +ordinary young girl by almost any man of average attractions, provided +she is not already yearning happily for some one in particular. It is +not until much later that she learns to discriminate. There were girls +at the school who saw in every man they met a possible lover, and were +ready to accept any man who offered himself; but they were of coarser +fibre than Beth, more susceptible to the physical than to the ideal +demands of love, and fickle because the man who was present had more +power to please than the one who was merely a recollection. The actual +presence was enough for them, they had no ideals. With Beth it was +different. Her present was apt to be but a poor faded substitute for the +future with the infinite range of possibilities she had the power to +perceive in it, or even for the past as she glorified it.</p> + +<p>While she was in this mood she was particularly provoking to those in +authority over her.</p> + +<p>"Beth," said Miss Crow one day severely, "you are to go to Miss Clifford +directly." Beth went.</p> + +<p>"I hear," said Miss Clifford in her severest tone, "that you have not +made your bed this morning."</p> + +<p>"I went up to make it," Beth answered, trying dreamily to recollect what +had happened after that.</p> + +<p>"I must give you a bad mark," Miss Clifford said, and then paused; and +Beth, who had not been attending, becoming conscious that something had +been bestowed upon her, answered politely, "Thank you."</p> + +<p>"Beth, you are impertinent," Miss Clifford exclaimed, "and I must punish +you severely. Stay in the whole of your half-holiday and do arithmetic."</p> + +<p>Then Beth awoke with a start, and realising what she had done, struggled +to explain; but the moment she became herself + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span> again, an agony of +dumbness came upon her, and she left the room without a word.</p> + +<p>She spent the long bright afternoon cowering over her arithmetic, and +crying at intervals, being in the lowest spirits, so that by prayer-time +she was pretty well exhausted. She tried to attend to the psalms, but in +the middle of them she became a poor girl suffering from a cruel sense +of injustice. All her friends misunderstood her and were unkind to her, +in consequence of which she pined away, and one day, in the midst of a +large party, she dropped down dead.</p> + +<p>And at this point she actually did fall fainting with a thud on the +floor. Miss Clifford, who was giving out the hymn, stopped startled, and +some of the girls shrieked. Miss Crow and one of the other teachers +carried Beth out by the nearest door.</p> + +<p>"Poor little thing!" said Miss Crow, looking pityingly at her drawn +white face and purple eyelids. "I'm afraid she's very delicate."</p> + +<p>Miss Clifford came also, when prayers were over, and said kind things; +and from that time forward Beth received a great deal of sympathetic +attention, which did her good, but in no way reconciled her to her +imprisonment.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>The following term, Beth watched the spring come in at school with +infinite yearning. To be out—to be free to sit under the apple-trees +and look up through the boughs at the faintly flushed blossom, till the +vision and the dream came upon her, and she passed from conscious +thought into a higher phase of being—just to do that was her one desire +till the petals fell. Then pleasure-boats began to be rowed on the +river, rowed or steered by girls no older than herself, in summer +dresses delicately fresh; and she, seeing them, became aware of the +staleness of her own shabby clothing, and writhed under the rules which +would not allow her even to walk on the path overlooking the river, and +gaze her fill at it. The creamy white flowers of the great magnolia on +the lawn came out, and once she slipped across the grass to peer into +them and smell them. She got a bad mark for that, the second she had +had.</p> + +<p>At preparation that evening she sat so that she could see the river, and +watched it idly instead of working; and presently there floated into her +mind the rhyme she made when she was a little child at Fairholm—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The fairy folk are calling me."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Suddenly she caught her breath, her cheeks flushed, her eyes + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span> sparkled, +her whole aspect changed from apathy to animation, and she laughed.</p> + +<p>"What has happened to please you, Beth; you look quite bright?" Miss Bey +said, meeting her in the vestibule when preparation was over. Miss Bey +was said to favour Beth by some; Beth was said to toady Bey by others; +the truth being that they had taken to each other from the first, and +continued friends.</p> + +<p>"I've got a sort of singing at my heart," Beth answered, sparkling. "The +fairy folk are calling me."</p> + +<p>Beth slept in No. 5 then, and had the bed nearest to the window. There +was a moon that night, and she lay long watching the light of it upon +the blind—long after the gas was put out and the teachers had gone to +their rooms. Wondering at last if the girls in the room were asleep, she +sat up in bed, the better to be able to hear; and judged that they were. +Then she got out of bed, walked quietly down the room in her night-dress +and bare feet, opened the door cautiously, and found herself out in the +carpetless passage. It was dark there, but she walked on confidently to +the head of the grand staircase, which the girls were only allowed to +use on special occasions. "This <i>is</i> a special occasion," Beth said to +herself with a grin. "The fairy folk are calling me, and I must go out +and dance on the grass in that lovely moonlight."</p> + +<p>But how to get out was the difficulty. The hall door was bolted and +barred. She went into the first and second. There were two large windows +in the room which looked into the great conservatory, and one of them +was open a crack. She pushed it up higher, and got through into the +conservatory. There she found a large side window on the left of the +first and second also open a little. The shelf in front of the window +had flower-pots on it, which she moved aside, then got up herself, and +with a tug, managed to raise the heavy sash. Then she sat on the sill +and looked down. It was too far to jump, but a sort of dado of +ornamental stonework came right up to the window, and by the help of +this she managed to descend to the ground, and found herself free. For a +moment she stood stretching herself like one just released from a +cramped position, drawing in deep draughts of the delicious night air +the while; then she bounded off over the dewy grass, and ran, and +jumped, and waved her arms, every muscle of her rejoicing in an ecstasy +of liberty. She ran round to the front of the house, regardless of the +chance of some one seeing her from one of the windows, and danced round +and round the magnolia, and buried her face in the big white flowers one +after the other, and bathed it in the dew on their petals. Then she went +to the path by the river and hung over the railing, and after that she +visited the orchard, + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span> + and every other forbidden place in the grounds. In +the orchard she found some half-ripe fruit under the trees, and gathered +it; and finding that she could not climb into the conservatory again +with the fruit in her hands, she amused herself by throwing it through +the open window.</p> + +<p>It was harder to climb up than it had been to get down, but she +accomplished the feat at last with sundry abrasions, shut the window, +replaced the flower pots, got into the first and second, and went back +to bed. Her night-dress was wet with dew, and her feet were scratched +and dirty; but she was too much exhilarated by the exercise and +adventure to feel any discomfort. She was sitting up in bed, hungrily +munching some of her spoils, when Janey North, the girl in the next bed, +awoke.</p> + +<p>"What are you eating, Beth?" she asked in a cautious voice, whispering, +fearful of awaking a monitress and being reported for talking.</p> + +<p>"Apples," Beth answered. "Have some?"</p> + +<p>"All right! but where did you get them?" Janey asked.</p> + +<p>"Never you mind!" said Beth.</p> + +<p>Janey did not mind at the moment, and ate the greater number, but next +day she went treacherously and told, in order to ingratiate herself with +one of the mistresses, and the matter was reported to Miss Clifford, who +sent for Beth. Janey North was also sent for.</p> + +<p>"What is this I hear about your having apples in your bedroom last +night, Beth?" Miss Clifford said.</p> + +<p>"A story, I should think," Beth answered readily. "Who told you?"</p> + +<p>Janey North looked disconcerted.</p> + +<p>"What have you to say, Miss North?" Miss Clifford asked.</p> + +<p>"You <i>were</i> eating apples," Janey said to Beth.</p> + +<p>"How do you know?" Beth asked suavely.</p> + +<p>"I saw you."</p> + +<p>"What, in the middle of the night when the gas was out?"</p> + +<p>"Ye-yes," Janey faltered.</p> + +<p>Beth shrugged her shoulders and looked at Miss Clifford, who said +severely: "I think, Miss North, you have either dreamt this story or +invented it."</p> + +<p>Janey was barred in the school after that, the girls deciding that, +whether the story were true or not, she was a dockyard girl for telling +it. It was Beth's sporting instinct that had made her evade the +question. When she had won the game, and the excitement was over, she +felt she had been guilty of duplicity, and determined to confess when +Miss Clifford sent for her next and gave her a good opportunity. She +would have gone at once but for the dread of losing the precious liberty +that was life to her. All + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span> + through the weeks that followed she kept +herself sane and healthy by midnight exercises in the moonlight. Her +appetite had failed her till she took to this diversion, but after her +second ramble she was so hungry that she went down to the kitchen boldly +to forage in the hope of finding a crust. The fire was still burning +brightly, and by its light she discovered on the table the thick bread +and butter for the next morning's breakfast, all cut ready, and piled up +under covers on the dishes. There was half a jug of beer besides, +doubtless left from the servants' supper. It was rather flat, but she +thought it and the new bread and butter delicious. She had a bad cold +after the first ramble, but that was the only one, strange to relate, +for she always went out in her night-dress, and bare-footed.</p> + +<p>During this time her imagination was exceedingly active and her health +improved, but her work was a greater trouble than ever. She had just +been put into the third, but Miss Clifford threatened to put her down +again if she did not do better, and one day she sent for Beth, who went +trembling, under the impression that that was what the summons was for. +She found Miss Clifford and Miss Bey discussing a letter, and both +looking very serious.</p> + +<p>"Beth," Miss Clifford began, "a gentleman whom I know well has written +to tell me that he was walking home by the river-path at two o'clock on +Monday morning, and saw a girl here at St. Catherine's with only her +night-dress on, hanging over the railing looking into the river; and I +am sure from the description it was you."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Beth, "I saw him."</p> + +<p>Miss Clifford let the letter fall on her lap, and Miss Bey dropped into +a chair. Beth looked on with interest, and wondered about that accurate +description of herself; she would have given anything to see it.</p> + +<p>"What were you doing there?" Miss Clifford asked; and Beth noticed that +she was treating the matter just as her mother had treated the menagerie +business.</p> + +<p>"Just looking at the water," Beth said.</p> + +<p>"At two o'clock in the morning! How did you get out?"</p> + +<p>"By the conservatory window."</p> + +<p>"Had you been out before?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, often."</p> + +<p>"Do any of the other girls go out?"</p> + +<p>"Not that I know of," said Beth, then added, "No, I'm sure they don't."</p> + +<p>"Thank Heaven for that, at all events!" Miss Clifford ejaculated. Then +she made Beth sit down beside her, and took her hand, and gazed at her +long and sorrowfully. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Was it such a very dreadful thing to do?" Beth asked at last.</p> + +<p>"You have been a great disappointment to me, Beth," Miss Clifford +answered indirectly, "and to Miss Bey. We expected more of you than of +any other girl now in the school—you promised so well in many ways at +one time."</p> + +<p>"<i>Did I?</i>" said Beth, looking from one to the other in consternation. +"Oh, why didn't you tell me? I thought you all fancied I should never do +anything well, and that disheartened me. If I had known——" She burst +into tears.</p> + +<p>Late that night Miss Clifford and Miss Bey sat together discussing Beth.</p> + +<p>"I feel more than ever convinced there is something exceptional about +the child," Miss Clifford declared. "I hope it is not insanity; but, at +all events, it is not sin, and I won't have her punished. I say now what +I said at first, she should have been sent here early, or not at all. +And now she must go."</p> + +<p>"What, expel her!" Miss Bey ejaculated.</p> + +<p>"No. Didn't I say I would not have her punished? There is some +explanation of her wild escapade besides mere naughtiness, I feel sure, +and she shall have every chance that I can give her. There is no vice in +her of any kind that I can discover, and she is fearlessly honest. If +she were grown-up we should call her eccentric, and be interested and +amused by her vagaries; and I do not see why she should not be allowed +the same excuse as it is, only St. Catherine's is not the place for her. +Here all must move in the common orbit, to save confusion. So I shall +write to her mother, and get her to take her from the school at the end +of the term in the regular way."</p> + +<p>"But in the meantime?" Miss Bey asked.</p> + +<p>"Beth has given me her word that she will be good, and do nothing I +should disapprove of, and she will keep it."</p> + +<p>So Beth's credit was saved by the good judgment of this kind, wise +woman, and her career at St Catherine's ended honourably, if somewhat +abruptly.</p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXXIII</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">When</span> it was rumoured amongst the mistresses +that Beth was to leave that +term, Old Tom put her on to play first piano in the first-class solo, +and to lead the treble in the second-class duet at the examination.</p> + +<p>"For I rather like ye, Miss Beth Caldwell," she said. "You're not a +sycophant, whatever else ye are. They've not been able to + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span> do much wi' +ye in regard to yer work in the rest of the school, but ye've done well +under me, and I'll let ye have yer chance to distinguish yerself before +ye go."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but do you think I can do it?" Beth exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Ye can do anything ye set yerself to do, Beth Caldwell," Old Tom +shouted at her.</p> + +<p>Beth set herself accordingly, and when the day came she led the solo and +duet with the precision of a musical box, but with such an expenditure +of nerve-power that she was prostrated by the effort. She was considered +quite a musician at St. Catherine's, but by this time the dire method of +teaching had had its effect. Her confidence and her memory for music +were gone, the beauty of her touch spoilt, and the further development +of her talent effectually checked.</p> + +<p>She did not go home for the holidays. Miss Clifford had advised, Lady +Benyon approved, and Mrs. Caldwell decided, that she should be sent +direct to a finishing school in London, and when St. Catherine's broke +up, Miss Bey, who happened to be going that way, good-naturedly +undertook to see Beth safely to her destination.</p> + +<p>Miss Clifford held Beth's hand long, and gazed into her face earnestly +when she took leave of her. "I shall hear of you again," she said, "and +I pray God it may be good news; but it depends upon yourself, Beth. We +are free agents. Good-bye, my dear child, and God bless you."</p> + +<p>Beth had been eighteen intolerable months at the school, and had been +exceedingly miserable most of the time, yet she left it with tears in +her eyes, melted and surprised by the kindest farewells from every one. +It had never dawned upon her until that moment that she was really very +much liked.</p> + +<p>Her new school was a large house in a long wide street of houses, all +exactly alike. When she arrived with Miss Bey, they were shown into a +deliciously cool shady drawing-room, charmingly furnished, and the +effect upon Beth, after the graceless bareness of St. Catherine's, was +altogether reassuring.</p> + +<p>In front of the fireplace, which was hidden by ferns and flowering +plants, a slender girl, with thick dark hair down her back, was lying on +the white woolly hearthrug, reading. She got up to greet the visitors +without embarrassment, still holding her book in her hand.</p> + +<p>"Miss Blackburne will be here directly," she said. "Will you sit down?" +Then there was a little pause, which Miss Bey broke by asking in her +magisterial way, "What is that you are reading, my dear?"</p> + +<p>"The Idylls of the King," the girl answered.</p> + +<p>Miss Bey's nostrils flapped. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Is it not rather advanced for you, my dear?" she said. "We do not allow +it at all, even to our first-class girls."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Miss Blackburne likes us to read it," was the easy answer. "She +says that Tennyson and all the good modern writers are a part of our +education."</p> + +<p>"Thank goodness!" Beth ejaculated fervently. "At St. Catherine's our +minds were starved on books suited to the capacity of infants and +imbeciles."</p> + +<p>"I should think, Beth, you are hardly old enough or educated enough to +be a judge of literature as yet," Miss Bey said severely.</p> + +<p>"Nor do I pretend to be a judge. How can I know anything of literature +when literature is unknown at St. Catherine's? But I should think babes +and sucklings would be wise enough to object to the silly trash we had +instead of literature."</p> + +<p>Beth spoke emphatically, shaking herself free of the restrictions of the +Royal Service School for Officers' Daughters once for all.</p> + +<p>Miss Blackburne came in while she was speaking, and smiled.</p> + +<p>"I like to hear a girl express an opinion," she said. "She may be quite +wrong, but she must have some mind if she attempts to think for herself +at all; and mind is material to work upon."</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid <i>I</i> haven't much mind," Beth said, sighing, "or manner +either."</p> + +<p>Miss Blackburne smiled again, and looked at Miss Bey; but Miss Bey +supported Beth in her self-depreciation by preserving an ominous +silence.</p> + +<p>"This is one of your new school-fellows," Miss Blackburne said to Beth; +"let me introduce you to each other. Clara Herring, Beth Caldwell."</p> + +<p>When Miss Bey took her leave, Miss Blackburne left the room with her, +and immediately afterwards another girl came in, clapping her hands.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I say!" she exclaimed, "Signor Caponi <i>is</i> a dear! He has the +nicest chocolate eyes, and he says my Italian is wonderful! Now I've +done all my work for to-day."</p> + +<p>"Have you?" said Beth. "Why, it isn't five o'clock yet!"</p> + +<p>"Miss Blackburne won't let us work long hours," the girl rejoined. "She +says it destroys our freshness. But let us know each other's names. I am +Geraldine Tressillion. Good name for a novel, isn't it?" and she clapped +her little white hands and laughed again.</p> + +<p>"That's just what you're made to be—the heroine of a novel," Clara +Herring observed, looking at her admiringly. "I always think of you when +I come across a gay one, with golden hair and blue eyes."</p> + +<p>"I have my good points, I know," Geraldine rejoined. "But how about my +hips? Too high, alas!" + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, that won't show much while you're slight," said Clara, looking at +her critically.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll make haste and marry me before I'm afflicted with flesh, as +I'm sure to become. For I deny myself nothing—I live to eat," Geraldine +rattled on cheerfully. "One can't get very fat before one comes out; and +I hate a thin dowager. I'm engaged already, you know, but I don't like +the man much—don't like him at all, in fact; and my sister says I can +do better. She's been married a year, and has a baby. She told me all +about it. Mamma imagines we're all innocent. A lady implored her to tell +my sister things before she married, but she said she really could not +speak to an innocent girl on such a subject. I don't believe she was +ever so innocent herself. A grown girl can't be innocent unless she's a +fool; but anyway, it's the right pose to pretend. You've got to play the +silly fool to please a man; then he feels superior."</p> + +<p>"But it's hypocritical," said Beth.</p> + +<p>"Yes, my dear. But you must be hypocritical if you want to be a man's +ideal of a woman. You must know nothing, do nothing, see nothing, but +just what suits his pleasure and convenience; and in order to answer to +his requirements you must be either a hypocrite, or a blind worm without +eyes or intelligence. Men don't like innocence because it's holy, but +because it whets their appetites, my sister says, and if they're +deceived it serves them right. They work the world for their own +pleasure, not ours; and we must look out for ourselves. If we want +money, liberty, devotion, admiration, and any other luxury, we must +pretend. Don't you see?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," Beth rejoined. "But, personally, I shall never pretend +anything."</p> + +<p>"Then you will suffer for your sincerity," Geraldine rejoined.</p> + +<p>Beth shrugged her shoulders. The turn the conversation had taken was +distasteful to her, and she would not pursue it.</p> + +<p>There was a pause, then Clara observed sententiously:</p> + +<p>"Innocence is not impossible, Geraldine. Surely Adelaide is innocent +enough."</p> + +<p>"I said innocence and intelligence were incompatible," Geraldine +answered. "You don't call Adelaide intelligent, do you?"</p> + +<p>"Who is Adelaide?" Beth asked.</p> + +<p>"The daughter of a Roman Catholic peer," Geraldine replied. "She is +eighteen, and her mind is absolutely undeveloped. We think she's in +training for a convent, and that's why they don't let her learn much. +Miss Ella Blackburne is a Roman Catholic, and so also is Adelaide's +maid; They trot her round to all the observances of her Church +regularly, and in the intervals she + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span> + plays with the kitten. I don't know +why she should have been sent here at all, for this is a regular +forcing-house for the marriage market. Miss Blackburne expects all her +girls to marry well, and they generally do. I should think, Miss Beth, +she will be able to make something of you with those eyes!"</p> + +<p>"Look at its neck and shoulders, too, and the way its head is set on +them!" Clara exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Not to mention its hands and its complexion!" Geraldine supplemented. +"But its voice alone—<i>soft, gentle, and low</i>—would get it into the +peerage!"</p> + +<p>Beth, unused to be appraised in this way, blushed and smiled, rather +pleased, but confused.</p> + +<p>"How many girls are there here?" she asked, to change the subject.</p> + +<p>"Six boarders till you came, but now we are seven," Clara answered. +"There are some day-girls too, but they are children, and don't count. +The greatest pickle in the school is the daughter of an Archbishop—at +least, she has been the greatest pickle so far—we don't know you as +yet, however. But we have heard things!"</p> + +<p>"Come and see my room," Geraldine interrupted. "And perhaps you'd like +to see your own. It's next to mine."</p> + +<p>"Are you allowed to go up and down stairs just as you like?" Beth asked +in surprise.</p> + +<p>"Why, of course!" Geraldine cried. "You can go where you like and sit +where you like when you've done your work. We're not in prison!"</p> + +<p>Beth had a dainty little room, hung with white curtains, all to herself. +Her heart expanded when she saw it. The delightful appearance of her new +surroundings had already begun to have the happiest effect upon her +mind.</p> + +<p>When Geraldine took her into her own room she drew a yellow book from +under a quantity of linen in a drawer. "It's a French novel," she said. +"Miss Blackburne wouldn't let me read it for worlds if she knew, so you +mustn't tell. I'll lend it to you if you like."</p> + +<p>"I couldn't read it if I would; I don't know enough," Beth said.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you'll soon learn; and I'll tell you all there is in it. I say, +what size is your waist? Mine is only seventeen inches; but I laced till +I got shingles to reduce it to that. I know a doctor who says small +waists are neither healthy nor beautiful; but then they're the fashion, +and men are such awful fools about fashion. They sneer at a healthy +figure, and saddle themselves every day with ailing wives, all deformed, +because they're accustomed to see women so; and then they call <i>us</i> +silly! My husband won't think + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span> <i>me</i> + silly once I get command of his +money, whatever else he may think me. Till then—!" she made a pretty +gesture with her hands and laughed—Beth observing her the while with +deep attention as a new specimen.</p> + +<p>She found eventually that Geraldine was not at all a bad girl, or in the +least inclined to be vicious, her conversation notwithstanding; she was +merely a shrewd one learning how to protect herself in that state of +life to which she was destined. If a woman is to make her way in society +and keep straight, she must have wits and knowledge of a special kind. +There is probably no more delightful, high-minded, charming-mannered, +honourable and trustworthy woman in the world than a well-bred +Englishwoman; but, on the other hand, there can be nothing more +vulgar-minded, coarse, and despicable than women of fashion tend to +become. There is no meanness nor shabbiness, not to mention fraud, that +they will not stoop to when it suits themselves, from tricking a +tradesman and sweating a servant, to neglecting their children, +deceiving their husbands, and slandering their friends. They are sheep +running hither and thither in servile imitation of each other, without +an original thought amongst them; the froth of society, with the natural +tendency of froth to rise to the surface and thence be swept aside; mere +bubbles, that shine a moment and then burst. It is fashion that unsexes +women and unmakes men. To be in the world of fashion and of it, is to +degenerate; but to be in it and not of it, to know it and remain +untainted, despising all it has to give, makes towards solid advance. +There are some ugly stages to be gone through, however, before the +advancement is pronounced.</p> + +<p>The six girls at Miss Blackburne's were all daughters of people of +position, all enjoying the same advantages and under the same +influences; but three of them were already shaping themselves into women +of fashion, while the other three were tending as inevitably to develop +into women of fine character and cultivated mind. Beth was attracted to +all such women, and recognised their worth, often long before they +appreciated her at all. She was seventh among the girls, her place being +in the middle, as it were, with three on either side of her, teaching +her all they could, as was inevitable. In association with the budding +women of fashion, she lost the first fine delicacy of maiden modesty of +mind; but the example of the young gentlewomen, on the other hand, +confirmed her taste and settled her convictions. The ladies who kept the +school were high-minded themselves and exemplary in every possible way, +and if they did not make all their pupils equally so, it was because +factors go to the formation of character with which, for want of +knowledge, no one can reckon at present. The influence of these ladies +upon Beth was altogether benign. + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span> + She was in a new world with them—a +world of ease and refinement, of polished manners, of kindly +consideration, where, instead of being harried by nagging rules, +stultified by every kind of restraint, and lowered in her own estimation +for want of proper respect and encouragement, she was allowed as much +liberty as she would have had in a well-ordered home, and found herself +and her abilities of special interest to each of her teachers. Instead +of being an item, a part of a huge piece of machinery to be strictly +kept in the particular place assigned to her, whether it were adapted to +the needs of her nature or not, for fear of putting the whole mechanism +out of order, her present and future being less considered than the +smooth working of the machine—she was a girl again with some character +of her own to be formed and developed. Here, too, she was put upon her +honour to do all that was expected of her, and the immediate consequence +of this in her case was the most scrupulous exactness. She attached +herself to Miss Ella, attracted first of all by the fact that she was a +Roman Catholic. How she could be one was a mystery Beth longed to solve; +but Miss Ella did not consider it loyal to Protestant parents to +influence their daughters at school, and would give her no help in this. +In every other respect, however, Beth found her exceedingly kind and +sympathetic, a serene, strong woman, who began to curb the exuberance of +Beth's naughtiness from the first, and to direct the energy of which it +was the outcome into profitable channels.</p> + +<p>There was no monotony in Miss Blackburne's establishment. The girls were +taken in turns to operas, concerts, picture-galleries, and every kind of +exhibition that might help to cultivate their minds. To be able to +discuss such things was a part of their education. They were expected to +describe all they saw, fluently and pleasantly, but without criticism +enough to require thought and provoke argument, which is apt to be +tedious; and thus was formed the habit of chatting in the genial light +frothy way which does duty for conversation in society. Geraldine had +not exaggerated when she called Miss Blackburne's school a forcing house +for the marriage market. At that time marriage was the only career open +to a gentlewoman, and the object of her education was to make her +attractive. The theory then was that solid acquirements were beyond the +physical strength of girls, besides being unnecessary. Showy +accomplishments, therefore, were all that was aimed at; but they had to +be thorough. Music, singing, drawing, dancing, French, German, +Italian—whatever it might be; the girl who was learning it had the +greatest attention from her master or mistress during the lesson; she +was made to do it as much by the will of the teacher as by her own +intelligence. This was the first experience of thorough teaching Beth +had ever + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span> + had, and she enjoyed it, and would have worked harder to +profit by it than Miss Blackburne would allow. As it was, she made great +progress with her work, while all the time the more informal but most +valuable part of her education, which was directed to the strengthening +of every womanly attribute, went on steadily under the influence of Miss +Ella.</p> + +<p>It would have been well for Beth if she had been left at Miss +Blackburne's for the next three years; but just when the rebellious +beating of her wings against the bars had ceased, and they had folded +themselves contentedly behind her for awhile; just when the wild flights +of her imagination were giving way to wholesome habits of thought, and +her own vain dreams were being dissipated by the honest ambition to +accomplish something actual—she was summoned away. Her sister Mildred +had died suddenly of meningitis, and the immediate effect of the shock +on Mrs. Caldwell, who had dearly loved her eldest daughter, was a +kindlier feeling for Beth, and a wish to have her at home—for a time at +all events. And Beth went willingly under the circumstances. She +sympathised deeply with her mother, and was full of grief herself for +her sister, to whom she had been tenderly attached although they had +seen so little of each other. Beth was not yet sixteen, and this was the +third blow that death had dealt her.</p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXXIV</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beth</span> had a natural love of order, and at school she had learnt the +necessity for it. She did not mean to give up work when she went home; +on the contrary, she determined to do more than ever. Miss Ella had +taught her to be deliberate, neither to haste nor to rest, but steadily +to pursue. She insisted that things to be well done must be done +regularly, and Beth, in accordance with this precept, mapped out her day +so as to make the most of it. She got up at seven, opened her window +wider, threw the clothes back from her bed to air it, had her bath, +brushed her hair; left nothing untidy lying about her room; did her good +reading, the psalms and lessons; breakfasted, made her bed, studied +French, went out for exercise, sewed, and read so much, all in the same +order every day. She paid particular attention to her personal +appearance, too, that being the one of her mother's principles which had +also been most particularly enjoined by Miss Blackburne. At both of her +schools marriage was the great ambition of most of the girls. At St +Catherine's it meant a means of escape from many hardships; to Miss +Blackburne's girls it offered the chance of a better position, and more +money + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span> + and luxury. There was a nicer tone among the Royal Service girls, +and more reticence in their discussions of the subject than at Miss +Blackburne's, where the girls were not at all high-minded, and talked of +their chances with the utmost frankness, not to say coarseness; but good +looks were held to be the best, if not the only means to the end in both +sets. Money and accomplishments might help, but personal appearance was +the great certainty; and Beth was naturally impressed with this idea +like the rest. Marriage, however, was far from being the distinct object +of her life; in fact, she had no distinct object at all as yet. She had +always meant to do something, or rather to be something; but further +than that she had not got.</p> + +<p>Miss Blackburne had paid particular attention to the cultivation of the +speaking voice, and it was from her that Beth had learnt how to round +hers to richness, and modulate it so that its natural sweetness and +charm were greatly enhanced. There was considerable difference of +opinion about her looks. She was always striking in appearance, but +dress, for one thing, altered her very much, and the state of her mind +still more. People who met her on one occasion admired her exceedingly, +and on the next wondered why they had thought her good-looking at all. +She had the mesmeric quality which makes it impossible to escape +observation, and her personality never failed to interest the +intelligent whether it pleased them or not; but she was only at her best +in mind, manner, and appearance when her fitful further faculty was +active; then indeed she shone with a strange loveliness, a light to be +felt rather than seen, and not to be described at all. At such times the +mere physical beauty of other women went out in her immediate +neighbourhood, and was no more thought of. It was not until she was +quite mature, however, that her manner permanently acquired that subtle +indefinable quality called charm, which is the outcome of a large +tolerant nature and kindness of heart. It was as if she did not come +into full possession of her true self until she had experienced +numberless other phases of being common to the race. Hence the +apparently incongruous mixture she presented in the earlier stages of +her youth, her sluggish indifference at times, her excesses of energy +and zeal, her variations of taste.</p> + +<p>At first, after she left school, as was inevitable, her self-discipline +was irksome enough at times, and some of the details she shirked; but +not for long, because the time which accustomed duties should have +occupied hung heavy on her hands, and she felt dissatisfied with herself +rather than relieved when she neglected them. So by degrees her habits +were formed, and in after life she found them a very present help in +time of trouble, + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span> + anchors which kept her from drifting to leeward, as +she must have done but for their hold upon her. Some of her erratic +tricks were not to be cured, but they came to be part of the day's work +rather than a hindrance to it. She saw many a sunrise, for instance, and +revelled with uplifted spirit in the beauty and wonder of the hour; but +the soul that sang responsive to the glories of the summer dawn, the +colour, the freshness, the perfume, was steeped at noon with equal +energy in the book she was studying, so that, instead of losing +anything, she gained that day one sunrise more.</p> + +<p>When she left school Beth was fastidiously refined. She hurried over all +the hateful words and passages in the Bible, Shakespeare, or any other +book she might be reading. The words she would not even pronounce to +herself, so strongly did her delicate mind revolt from a vile idea, and +sicken at the expression of it. But, nevertheless, she pored patiently +over every book she could get that had a great reputation, and in this +way she read many not usually given to girls, and became familiarised +with certain facts of life not generally supposed to be of soul-making +material. But she took no harm. The soul that is shaping itself to noble +purpose, the growing soul, tries more than is proper for its nourishment +in its search for sustenance, but rejects all that is unnecessary or +injurious, as water creatures without intelligence reject any unsuitable +substance they collect with their food.</p> + +<p>Before she had been many days at home, Beth found that her mother had +made a new acquaintance, who came to the house often in a casual way +like an intimate friend. He came in on the day of her arrival after +dinner, and was introduced to Beth by her mother as "the doctor." Beth +broke into smiles, for she recognised her long-ago acquaintance of the +rocks, the doctor of her Hector-romance. And it seemed he really was a +doctor; now that was a singular coincidence! In their little +drawing-room she discovered him to be a bigger man than she had +supposed, but otherwise he was like her first impression of him, +striking because of his colouring; the red and white of his complexion, +which was unusually clear for a man, and the lightness of his grey-green +eyes being in peculiar contrast to the blackness of his hair. She +noticed again, too, that the expression of his face when he smiled was +not altogether agreeable, because his teeth were too far apart; and she +also thought his finely-formed hands would have looked better had they +not been so obtrusively white.</p> + +<p>"But we have met before," he exclaimed when Beth acknowledged the +introduction. "You are the young lady I helped on the rocks one day, +quite a long time ago now, when you were a little girl." + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I remember," Beth said, noticing that he claimed to have helped her on +that occasion, and remembering also that she had declined his help.</p> + +<p>"You never told me, Beth," her mother said reproachfully.</p> + +<p>"There was really nothing to tell," he answered, coming to the rescue.</p> + +<p>"What a day that was!" Beth observed. "Did you notice the sea? It was +the sort of sea that might make one long to be a crab to live in it. +Though a crab is not the animal that I should specially choose to be. I +long to be a cat sometimes. To be able to fluff out my fur and spit +would be such a satisfaction. There are feelings that can be expressed +in no other way. And then to be able to purr! Purring is the one sound +in nature that expresses perfect comfort and content, I think."</p> + +<p>"Beth, don't talk nonsense," her mother said impatiently.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's not nonsense altogether," the doctor interposed. "It is just +cheery chatter, and that is good. Miss Beth will raise your spirits in +no time, or I'm much mistaken." He had watched Beth with gravity while +she was speaking, as one sees people watch an actress critically, +obviously marking her points, but betraying no emotion.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell sighed heavily. "The doctor has been so good, Beth," she +said. "He has come here continually, and done more to cheer me than +anybody."</p> + +<p>"Oh now, Mrs. Caldwell, you exaggerate," he remonstrated with a smile. +"But it's my principle, you know, to be cheery. I always say be cheery +whatever happens. It's no use crying over spilt milk!"</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"> "A merry heart goes all the day,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Your sad tires in a mile-a,"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Beth rattled off glibly, and again the doctor considered her.</p> + +<p>"Now that's good," he said, just as if he had never heard it before; +"and it's my meaning exactly. Don't let your spirits go down——"</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"> "For there's many a girl, as I know well,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A-looking for you in the town,"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Beth concluded, her spirits rising uproariously.</p> + +<p>"Beth!" her mother remonstrated, but with a smile.</p> + +<p>"The worst of it is, the ones on the look-out are not the ones with the +good looks," the doctor observed, also smiling.</p> + +<p>"But they are the ones with the money," Beth rejoined. "I wonder how it +is that plain girls so often have money. I suppose the money-grubbing +spirit comes out in ugliness in the female branch." + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span></p> + +<p>Tea was brought in, but Beth refused to take any. The doctor tried to +persuade her.</p> + +<p>"You had better change your mind," he said. "Ladies are privileged to +change their minds."</p> + +<p>"I know," said Beth. "Ladies are privileged to be foolish. It is almost +the only privilege men allow them. I scorn it myself. At school we were +warned to be firm when once we had said 'No, thank you.' Miss Ella used +to say that people who allowed themselves to be over-persuaded and +changed their minds lost self-control and became self-indulgent +eventually."</p> + +<p>"Ah, that makes me think of my poor dear mother," said the doctor. "A +better and more consistent woman never lived. Once she said a thing, you +couldn't move her. She was a good mother to me! I was always her +favourite son. But, like other young fellows, I'm afraid I didn't half +appreciate her till I had lost her."</p> + +<p>"All the same, I am sure you were all that a good son should be," Mrs. +Caldwell observed sincerely.</p> + +<p>The doctor's eyes shone with emotion.</p> + +<p>When he had gone, Mrs. Caldwell began to discuss him.</p> + +<p>"He really <i>is</i> cheery," she said, "he always raises my spirits; and I +am sure he is good and kind. Did you see how his eyes filled with tears +when he mentioned his mother? He is handsome, too, don't you think so? +Such a colour! And always so well dressed. Lady Benyon admires him very +much. But he gets on with every one, even Uncle James! What do you think +of him, Beth?"</p> + +<p>"I think he looks neat to the point of nattiness, which is finical in a +man," Beth answered.</p> + +<p>"Ah, that is because you are not accustomed to well-dressed men," her +mother assured her. "Here in Rainharbour you don't often see one."</p> + +<p>"I have been in London lately," Beth observed.</p> + +<p>"Beth," her mother began emphatically, "that is so like you! Will you +never get out of the habit of answering so? You are always in +opposition, and it is too conceited of you at your age. I did hope they +would have cured you of the trick at school; but no sooner do you get +home, than you begin again as bad as ever."</p> + +<p>"Well, rather than displease you, mamma, I'll do my best to hold my +tongue for the future when I can't say what you want me to say," Beth +answered cheerfully. "I came home to be a comfort to you, and if I can't +be a comfort to you and express myself as well, why, I must go +unexpressed."</p> + +<p>"Now, there you are again, Beth," Mrs. Caldwell cried peevishly. "Is +that a nice thing to say?" +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span></p> + +<p>Beth looked at her mother and smiled enigmatically. Then she reflected. +Then her countenance cleared.</p> + +<p>"Mamma," she said, "your hair is much whiter than it was; but I don't +think I ever saw you look so nice. You have such a pretty complexion, +and so few wrinkles, and such even teeth! What a handsome girl you must +have been!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell smiled complacently, and went to bed in high good humour. +She told Bernadine, as they undressed, that she thought Beth greatly +improved.</p> + +<p>But Beth herself lay long awake that night; tossing and troubled, +feeling far from satisfied either with herself or anybody else.</p> + +<p>The next morning she rose early and drew up her plan of life.</p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXV" id="CHAPTER_XXXV"></a>CHAPTER XXXV</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">As</span> that first day at home wore on, Beth was +seized with an importunate +yearning to go out, and it was with difficulty that she got through her +self-appointed tasks. She thought of the sea, the shore, the silence and +solitude, which were apt to be so soothing to her dull senses that she +ceased to perceive with them, and so passed into the possession of her +farther faculty for blissful moments. She fancied the sea was as she +best loved to have it, her favourite sea, with tiny wavelets bringing +the tide in imperceptibly over the rocks, and the long stretch of water +beyond heaving gently up to the horizon, with smooth unruffled surface +shining in the sun. When she had done her work she fared forth to the +sea, to sit by it, and feel the healthy happy freshness of it all about +her, and in herself as well. She went to the rocks. The tide was coming +in. The water, however, was not molten silver-grey, as she had imagined +it, but bright dark sapphire blue, with crisp white crests to the waves, +which were merry and tumbled. It was the sea for an active, not for a +meditative mood; its voice called to play, rather than to that prayer of +the whole being which comes of the contemplation of its calmness; it +exhilarated instead of soothing, and made her joyous as she had not been +since she went to school. She stood long on the rocks by the water's +edge, retreating as the tide advanced, watching wave after wave curve +and hollow itself and break, and curve and hollow itself and break +again. The sweet sea-breeze sang in her ears, and braced her with its +freshness, while the continuous sound of wind and water went from her +consciousness and came again with the ebb and flow of her thoughts. But +the strength and swirl of the water, its tireless force, its incessant +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span> +voices choiring on a chorus of numberless notes, invited her, fascinated +her, filled her with longing—longing to trust herself to the waves, to +lie still and let them rock her, to be borne out by them a little way +and brought back again, passive yet in ecstatic enjoyment of the dreamy +motion. The longing became an impulse. She put her hand to her throat to +undo her dress—but she did not undo it—she never knew why. Had she +yielded to the attraction, she must have been drowned, for she could +swim but little, and the water was deeper than she knew, and the current +strong; and she might have yielded just as she resisted, for no reason +that rendered itself into intelligible thought.</p> + +<p>She turned from the scene of her strange impulse, and began to wander +back over the rocks, suffering the while from that dull drop of the +spirit which sets in at the reaction after moments of special intensity; +and in this mood she came upon "the doctor," also climbing the rocks.</p> + +<p>"Now, it is a singular coincidence that I should meet you here again," +he said.</p> + +<p>Beth smiled. "I am afraid those nice boots of yours will suffer on these +sharp rocks," she remarked by way of saying something. "We natives keep +our old ones for the purpose."</p> + +<p>"Ah," he said, "I don't keep old ones for any purpose. I have an +objection to everything old, old people included."</p> + +<p>Beth had a book under her arm, and he coolly took it from her as he +spoke, and read the title: "Dryden's Poetical Works." "Ah! So you carry +the means of improving your mind at odd moments about with you. Well, +I'm not surprised, for I heard you were clever."</p> + +<p>Beth smiled, more pleased than if he had called her beautiful; but she +wondered if Dryden could properly be called improving.</p> + +<p>"It is absurd to keep a girl at school who has got as far as this kind +of thing," he added, tapping the old brown book; "but it seems to me +they don't understand you much at home, little lady."</p> + +<p>"What makes you think so?" Beth asked shrewdly.</p> + +<p>"Oh," he answered, somewhat disconcerted, "I judge from—from things I +hear and see."</p> + +<p>This implied sympathy, and again Beth was pleased.</p> + +<p>It was late when she got in, and she expected her mother to be annoyed; +but Mrs. Caldwell was all smiles.</p> + +<p>"I suppose the doctor found you?" she said. "He asked where you were, +and I said on the rocks probably."</p> + +<p>"That accounts for the singular coincidence," Beth observed; but, +girl-like, she thought less at the moment of the little insincerity than +of the compliment his following her implied. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span></p> + +<p>They dined that evening with Lady Benyon. It was a quiet little family +party, including Uncle James and Aunt Grace Mary. The doctor was the +only stranger present. He looked very well in evening dress.</p> + +<p>"Striking, isn't he?" Aunt Grace Mary whispered to Beth. "Such +colouring!"</p> + +<p>"And how are you, Dan?" was Uncle James's greeting, uttered with an +affectation of cordiality in his unexpected little voice that interested +Beth. She wondered what was toward. She noticed, too, that she herself +was an object of special attention, and her heart expanded with +gratification. Very little kindness went a long way with Beth.</p> + +<p>Dr. Dan took her in to dinner.</p> + +<p>"By the way," he said, looking across the table at Uncle James, "I went +to see that old Mrs. Prince, your keeper's mother, as I promised. She's +a wonderful old woman for eighty-five. I shouldn't be surprised if she +lived to a hundred."</p> + +<p>"Dear! dear!" Uncle James ejaculated with something like consternation.</p> + +<p>"I seem to have put my foot in it somehow," Dr. Dan remarked to Beth +confidentially.</p> + +<p>"If you do anything to keep her alive you will," Beth answered. "Uncle +James always speaks bitterly about elderly women;—about old ones he is +perfectly rabid. He seems to think they rob worthy men of part of their +time by living so long."</p> + +<p>It was arranged before the party broke up that the doctor should drive +Beth to Fairholm in the Benyon dogcart to lunch next day. Beth was +surprised and delighted to find herself the object of so much +consideration. Dr. Dan, as they all called him, began to be associated +in her mind with happy days.</p> + +<p>"Have you come to live here?" she asked as they drove along.</p> + +<p>"No," he answered. "I am only putting in the time until I can settle +down to a practice of my own. I have just heard of one which I shall buy +if I can get an appointment I am trying for in the same place."</p> + +<p>"What is the appointment?" Beth asked.</p> + +<p>"It's a hospital I want to be put in charge of," he answered +casually,—"a small affair, but I should get a regular income from it, +and that would make my rent, and all that sort of thing, secure. A +doctor has to set up with a show of affluence."</p> + +<p>"It is a terrible profession to me, the medical profession," Beth said. +"The responsibilities must be so great and so various."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I never think of that," he answered easily.</p> + +<p>"<i>I</i> should," Beth rejoined.</p> + +<p>"Yes, <i>you</i> would, of course," he said; "and that shows what +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span> folly it +is for women to go in for medicine. They worry about this and that, +things that are the patient's look-out, not the doctor's, and make no +end of mischief; besides always losing their heads in a difficulty."</p> + +<p>Just then the horse, which had been very fidgety all the way, bolted. +The blood rushed into the doctor's face. "Sit tight! sit tight!" he +exclaimed. "Don't now,—now don't move and make a fuss. Keep cool."</p> + +<p>"Keep cool yourself," said Beth dryly. "<i>I</i>'m all right."</p> + +<p>Dr. Dan glanced at her sideways, and saw that she was laughing.</p> + +<p>When they arrived at Fairholm, he made much of the incident. "If I +hadn't had my wits about me, there would have been a smash," he vowed. +"But I happened to be on the spot myself, and Miss Beth behaved +admirably. Most girls would have shrieked, you know, but she behaved +heroically."</p> + +<p>This was all rather gushing, but it did not offend Beth, because she +associated gush with Aunt Grace Mary, who had always been kind to her. +Gushing people are usually weak and amiable, gush being the ill-judged +outcome of a desire to please; but at that happy age it was the amiable +intention that Beth took into account. Her desire to be pleased, which +had so seldom been gratified, had become a danger to her judgment by +this time; it made her apt to respond to any attempt to please her +without considering means and motives which should have discounted her +appreciation. Everybody was trying to please her now, and all her being +answered only too readily. She spent a delightful day at Fairholm, and +went home in extravagantly high spirits.</p> + +<p>Dr. Dan called early the next morning, and found her with her hat on, +just going out.</p> + +<p>"How are you this misty cold grey day?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, very bright," she answered. "I feel as if I were the sun, and I'm +just going to shine out on the world to enliven it."</p> + +<p>"May I accompany you?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"The sun, alas! is a solitary luminary," she answered, shaking her head.</p> + +<p>"Then I shall hope for better luck next time," he said, and let her go +alone.</p> + +<p>In the evening he came in again to have a game of cribbage with Mrs. +Caldwell. Beth was sleepy and had gone to bed early. In the pauses of +the game they talked about her, and the responsibilities of a family.</p> + +<p>"A girl wants some one to look after her," the doctor said, "especially +if she has money."</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed," Mrs. Caldwell replied, "girls are a great anxiety. Now a +boy you can put into a profession and have +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span> + done with it. But it is not +so easy to find a suitable husband for a girl."</p> + +<p>"But, of course, if she has a little money it makes a difference," he +observed. "Only she should have some one to advise her in the spending +of it. Now, Miss Beth, for instance, will be as much a child at +twenty-one in money matters as she is now."</p> + +<p>"I hope we shall find the right man for her before then," Mrs. Caldwell +answered archly; "not that I think her aunt's fortune will cause her +much anxiety." She alluded to the smallness of the sum.</p> + +<p>"She gets some of the interest, I suppose, to go on with," he said.</p> + +<p>"Just enough to dress on."</p> + +<p>Beth saw a great deal of Dr. Dan after that. She was not in the least in +love with him, but they became intimate all the sooner on that account. +A girl shrinks more shyly from a man she loves than from one for whom +she has only a liking; in the one case every womanly instinct is on the +alert, in the other her feeling is not strong enough to seem worth +curbing. Beth was fond of men's companionship, and Dr. Dan's assiduous +attentions enlivened her, made her brain active, and brought the vision +and the dream within reach; so that she moved in a happy light, but +considered the source of it no more than she would have considered the +stick that held the candle by which she read an entrancing book.</p> + +<p>There are idyllic gleams in all interesting lives; but life as we live +it from day to day is not idyllic. In Beth's case there was the +inevitable friction, the shocks and jars of difficulties and +disagreements with her mother. These had been suspended for a time after +her return, but began to break out again, fomented very often by +Bernadine, who was always her mother's favourite, but was never a +pleasant child. Dr. Dan came one very wet day, and found Beth sitting in +the drawing-room alone, looking miserable. She had done all her little +self-imposed tasks honestly, but had reaped no reward. On the contrary, +there had come upon her a dreadful vision of herself doing that sort of +thing on always into old age, as Aunt Victoria did her French, with no +object, and to no purpose; and for the first time she formulated a +feeling that had gradually been growing up in her of late: "I must have +more of a life than this." What could she do, however, tied to that +stupid place, without a suspicion as yet that she had it in her to do +anything special, and without friends to help her, with no one to +advise. As she reflected, the hopelessness of it all wrung from her some +of the bitterest tears she ever shed. If her mother would only send her +back to Miss Blackburne she would be learning something, at all events; +but, although Mrs. Caldwell had +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span> + said nothing definite on the subject, +Beth was pretty certain by this time that she did not mean to let her +return to school.</p> + +<p>Beth was in the middle of this misery when Dr. Dan arrived.</p> + +<p>"How's this?" he said, "Down? You should have the window open. It's not +cold to-day, though it's wet; and the room is quite stuffy. Never be +afraid of fresh air, you know."</p> + +<p>"I'm not," Beth said. "I didn't know the window was shut. Open it as +wide as you like—the wider the better for me."</p> + +<p>"That's better," he said, as the fresh air flowed in. "It's singular how +women will shut themselves up. No wonder they get out of spirits! Now, I +never let myself run down. When one thing goes wrong, I just take up +another, and don't bother. You'd think I wasn't having much of a time +here; but I'm as happy as the day is long, and I want to see you the +same." He sat down beside her on the old-fashioned sofa, took her hand, +and began to stroke it gently. "Cheer up, little girl," he added. "I +believe you've been crying. Aren't they kind to you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, they're kind enough," Beth answered, soothed by the caress; "at +least they mean to be. The misery is in myself. I feel all +dissatisfied."</p> + +<p>"Not when I'm with you, do you?" he asked reproachfully.</p> + +<p>"No, I don't bother about myself when I have you to talk to," Beth +answered. "You come in fresh, and give me something else to think +about."</p> + +<p>"Then, look here, Beth," he said, putting his arm round her. "I don't +think I can do better than take you away with me. You've a head on your +shoulders, and an original way with you that would be sure to bring +people about the house, and you're well connected and look it;—all of +which would be good for my practice. Besides, a young doctor must marry. +I'm over thirty, though you might not think it. Come, what do you say? +You'd have a very good time of it as my wife, I can tell you. All your +own way, and no nagging. You know what <i>I</i> am, a cheery fellow, never +put out by anything. Now, what do you say?"</p> + +<p>"Are you asking me to marry you?" said Beth, breaking into a smile. The +position struck her as comical rather than serious.</p> + +<p>"Why, what else?" he replied, smiling also. "I see you are recovering +your spirits. You'll be as happy as the day is long when we're married. +You'd never get on with anybody else as you'd do with me. I don't think +anybody else would understand you."</p> + +<p>Beth laughed. She liked him, and she liked to be caressed. Why not marry +him and be independent of every one? She hadn't the slightest objection +at the moment; far from it, for she saw in the offer the one means of +escape she was likely +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span> + to have from the long dull dreary days, and the +loneliness, which was all the life she could have to look forward to +when he had gone. And he was good-looking, too, and nice—everybody said +so. Besides, they would all be pleased if she accepted him, her mother +especially so. Now that she came to think of it, she perceived that this +was what they had been suggesting to her ever since her return.</p> + +<p>"It is settled then?" he said, stooping forward to look into her face.</p> + +<p>She looked at him shyly and laughed again. For the life of her she could +not keep her countenance, although she felt she was behaving in the +silly, giggling-girl sort of way she so much despised.</p> + +<p>"That's all right," he exclaimed, looking extremely well pleased; and at +that moment Mrs. Caldwell walked into the room, just in time to witness +a lover-like caress. Beth jumped up, covered with confusion. Mrs. +Caldwell looked from one to the other, and waited for an explanation.</p> + +<p>"We've just come to the conclusion that we cannot live apart," Dan said +deliberately, rising at the same time and taking Beth's hand.</p> + +<p>"My dear child!" Mrs. Caldwell exclaimed, embracing Beth with happy +tears in her eyes. "This <i>is</i> a joy! I <i>do</i> congratulate you."</p> + +<p>Beth became suddenly serious. The aspect of the affair had changed. It +was no longer a game of the moment, but a settled business, already +irrevocable. She wanted to explain that she had not actually pledged +herself, that she must take time to consider; but her heart failed her +in view of her mother's delight. It was Beth's great weakness that, as a +rule, she could neither spoil pleasure nor give pain to save herself in +an emergency.</p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXXVI</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">When</span> Dan came to see her the next morning, he +found her in a mixed mood. +Half-a-dozen times during the night she had declined to marry him in a +painful scene, but just as often her imagination would run on into the +unknown life she would have to lead with him. She saw herself in white +satin and lace and pearls, a slender figure at the head of a long +dining-table, interesting to everybody, and Dan was at the foot, looking +quite distinguished in evening dress, with his glossy black hair and +wonderful clear skin. She had gathered the nicest people in the +neighbourhood about her, and on her right there was a shadowy +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span> person, a +man of mark, and knightly, who delighted in her conversation.</p> + +<p>When she came downstairs to receive Dan she was coughing, and he showed +his devotion by being greatly concerned about her health. He said she +must have port wine and a tonic, and be out in the air as much as +possible, and suggested that they should go for a walk at once as it was +a lovely day, though still wet under foot.</p> + +<p>"I would not ask you to walk if I had a carriage to offer you," he said, +"for I hate to see a delicate lady on foot in the mud. But you shall +have your carriage yet, please God, all in good time!"</p> + +<p>"Where shall we go?" said Beth when they left the house.</p> + +<p>"Oh, anywhere," he answered. "Take me to one of your own favourite +haunts."</p> + +<p>She thought of the Fairholm cliffs for a moment, but felt that they were +sacred to many recollections with which she would not care to associate +this new experience. "I'll show you the chalybeate spring," she said.</p> + +<p>They turned out of Orchard Street, and went down the hill to the Beck, a +broad, clear, shallow rivulet, that came round a sharp green curve +between high banks, well wooded with old trees, all in their heavy, +dark-green, summer foliage. As they crossed the rustic wooden bridge +Beth paused a little to look up at the trees and love them, and down +into the clear water at the scarlet sticklebacks heading up stream. Her +companion looked at her in surprise when she stopped, and then followed +the direction of her eyes. All he saw, however, was a shallow stream, a +green bank, and some trees.</p> + +<p>"This is not very interesting," he observed.</p> + +<p>Beth made no reply, but led the way up the hill on the other side, and, +to the right, passed a row of cottages with long gardens at the back +running down to the brow of the bank that overhung the Beck. In most of +these cottages she was an object of suspicion because of her uncanny +words and ways, and she knew it, and the thought of it was a grief to +her. She wanted the people to like her as she would have liked them had +they let her. The wish to win them fired her imagination. She looked on +ahead into futurity, and was a beautiful lady, driving a pair of ponies +down a wooded lane, with a carriage full of good things for the +cottagers, and they all loved her, and were very glad to see her.</p> + +<p>"What are you thinking about?" Dan asked.</p> + +<p>"How nice it would be to be rich," she replied.</p> + +<p>"But you will be well off when you're twenty-one, I am told."</p> + +<p>"I suppose there's a chance of it," she answered dreamily.</p> + +<p>(The ponies had arrived at the village by this time, and she was looking +up at an old grey church with a red roof.) +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Do you know what your aunt's income was?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Seven or eight hundred a year," she answered absently.</p> + +<p>(The sexton's little house stood by the gate leading into the +churchyard. His wife came out when the carriage stopped, wiping +soap-suds from her bare arms with her apron. Beth leaned forward and +held out her hand to her, and the woman smiled a cordial welcome. She +had a round flat face and fair hair. Then Beth handed her a mysterious +package from the carriage, which she received half in delight and half +in inquiry.)</p> + +<p>But Beth's imagination stopped there, for she perceived that she had +passed the gate of the garden in which was the chalybeate spring. There +was a cottage in the garden, and Beth turned back, and went up to the +door, where a woman was standing holding a plump child, whose little fat +thigh, indented by the pressure, bulged over her bare arm.</p> + +<p>"May we have a drink, please?" Beth asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and welcome," the woman answered. "I'll fetch you a glass."</p> + +<p>"Let me hold the baby," said Beth.</p> + +<p>The woman smiled, and handed him to her. Beth took him awkwardly, and +squeezed him up in her arms as a child holds a kitten.</p> + +<p>"Isn't he nice?" she said.</p> + +<p>"That's a matter of taste," Dan answered. "I don't like 'em fat-bottomed +myself."</p> + +<p>Beth froze at the expression. When the woman returned, she handed the +child back to her carefully, but without a smile, took the glass, and +went down to the spring by a narrow winding path which took them out of +sight of the cottage directly. Here it was old trees again, and green +banks, with the Beck below. When they were under the trees Beth looked +up at a big elm, and her companion noticed her lips move.</p> + +<p>"What are you saying to yourself?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Nothing to myself," she answered. "I'm saying, 'Oh, tree, give me of +thy strength!' the Eastern invocation."</p> + +<p>He laughed, and wanted to know what rot that was; and again Beth was +jarred.</p> + +<p>"You'll have no luck if you don't respect the big trees," she said.</p> + +<p>"Oh, by Jove, if we wait for the big trees to make our luck, we shan't +have much!" he rejoined, picking up a pebble and firing it into the Beck +below.</p> + +<p>They were on a narrow path now, about half-way down the bank, and here, +in a hollow, the chalybeate spring bubbled out, and was gathered by a +wooden spout into a slender stream, which fell on the ground, where, in +the course of time, it had made a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span> + basin for itself that was always +partly full. The water was icy cold, and somewhat the colour of light on +steel. Beth held the glass to the spout, rinsed it first, then filled +it, and offered it to Dan, but he dryly declined to take it "Not for me, +thank you," he said; "I never touch any medicinal beastliness."</p> + +<p>For the third time Beth was jarred. She threw the water on the ground, +refilled the glass, and drank. Dan saw he had made a mistake.</p> + +<p>"I'll change my mind and have some too," he said, anxious to mollify +her.</p> + +<p>Beth filled the glass again, and handed it to him in silence, but no +after-thought could atone for the discourtesy of his first refusal, and +she looked in another direction, not even troubling herself to see +whether he tried the water or not.</p> + +<p>There was a rustic seat in the hollow of the bank, and he suggested that +they should sit there a while before they returned. Beth acquiesced; and +soon the sputter of the little spring bubbling into its basin, the +chitter of birds in the branches above, the sunbeams filtering from +behind through the leaves, the glint of the Beck below slipping between +its banks, soundless, to the sea, enthralled her.</p> + +<p>"Isn't this lovely?" she ejaculated.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it's very jolly—with you," he said.</p> + +<p>"You wouldn't like it so well without me?" Beth asked.</p> + +<p>"No, I should think not," he rejoined. "And you wouldn't like it as well +without me, I hope."</p> + +<p>"No," Beth responded. "It makes it nicer having some one to share it."</p> + +<p>"Now that's not quite kind," he answered in an injured tone. "Some one +is any one; and <i>I</i> shouldn't be satisfied with anybody but you."</p> + +<p>"Well, but I am satisfied with you," Beth answered dispassionately.</p> + +<p>He took her hand, laid it in his own palm, and looked at it. It was a +child's hand as yet, delicately pink and white.</p> + +<p>"What a pretty thing!" he said. "Oh, you smile at that." He reached up +to put a lock of her brown hair back from her cheek, and then he put his +arm round her.</p> + +<p>Next day he was obliged to go away—Beth never thought of inquiring why +or wherefore; but she heard her mother and Lady Benyon talking about the +very eligible appointment he was hoping to get. He took an affectionate +leave of her. When he had gone she went off to the sands, and was +surprised to find how glad she was to be alone again. The tide was far +out, and there were miles and miles of the hard buff sand, a great, open +space, not empty to Beth, but teeming with thought and full +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span> of feeling. +Some distance on in front of her there was a solitary figure, a man +walking with bent head and hands folded behind him, holding a +stick—Count Gustav Bartahlinsky's favourite attitude when deep in +meditation. Beth hurried on, and soon overtook him.</p> + +<p>"Would you rather be alone, Count Gustav?" she said.</p> + +<p>He turned to look at her, then smiled, and they walked on together.</p> + +<p>"So they are going to marry you off," he said abruptly.</p> + +<p>"Yes," Beth answered laconically.</p> + +<p>"Do you wish to be married?"</p> + +<p>"No, I do not."</p> + +<p>"Then why do you consent?"</p> + +<p>"Because I'm weak; I can't help it," she said.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!"</p> + +<p>"I can't," she repeated. "I'm firm enough about some things, but in this +I vacillate. When I am alone I know I am making a mistake, but when I am +with other people who think differently, my objection vanishes."</p> + +<p>"What is your objection?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"That is the difficulty," she said. "I can't define it. Do you know Dr. +Dan?"</p> + +<p>"I can't say I know him," he answered. "I have met him and talked to +him. He expresses the most unexceptional opinions; but it is premature +to respect a man for the opinions he expresses—wait and see what he +does. Words and acts don't necessarily agree. Sometimes, however, a +chance remark which has very little significance for the person who +makes it, is like an aperture that lets in light on the whole +character." He cogitated a little, then added, "Don't let them hurry +you. Take time to know your man, and if you are not satisfied yourself, +if there is anything that jars upon <i>you</i>, never mind what other people +think, have nothing to do with him."</p> + +<p>When Beth went home, she found her mother sitting by the drawing-room +window placidly knitting and looking out. "I am afraid I am very late," +Beth said. "I have been on the sands with Count Gustav."</p> + +<p>"Ah, that was nice, I should think," Mrs. Caldwell observed graciously. +"And what were you talking about?"</p> + +<p>"Being married, principally," Beth answered.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell beamed above her knitting. "And what did he say?"</p> + +<p>"He strongly advised me not to marry if I didn't want to."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell changed countenance. "Did he indeed?" she observed with a +sniff. Then she reflected. "And what had you been saying to draw such a +remark from him?" +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I said I didn't want to be married," Beth blurted out with an effort.</p> + +<p>"How could you tell Count Gustav such a story, Beth?" Mrs. Caldwell +asked, shaking her head reproachfully.</p> + +<p>"It was no story, mamma."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, Beth," her mother rejoined. "It is nothing but perverseness +that makes you say such things. You feel more interesting, I believe, +when you are in opposition. If I had refused to allow you to be married, +you would have been ready to run away. <i>I</i> know girls! They all want to +be married, and they all pretend they don't. Why, when I was a girl I +thought of nothing else; but I didn't talk about it."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you had nothing else to think about," Beth ventured.</p> + +<p>"And what have you to think about, pray?"</p> + +<p>Beth clasped her hands, and her grey eyes dilated.</p> + +<p>"Beth, don't look like that," her mother remonstrated. "You are always +acting, and it <i>is</i> such a pity—as you will find when you go out into +the world, I am afraid, and people avoid you."</p> + +<p>"I didn't know I was doing anything peculiar," Beth said; "and how am I +to help it if I don't know?"</p> + +<p>"Just help it by only doing as you are told until you are able to judge +for yourself. Look at the silly way you have been talking this +afternoon! What must Count Gustav have thought of you? Never be so silly +again. You <i>must</i> be married now, you know. When a girl lets a man kiss +her, she <i>has</i> to marry him."</p> + +<p>Beth had been watching her mother's fingers as she knitted until she was +half mesmerised by the bright glint of the needles; but now she woke up +and burst out laughing. "If that be the case," she said, "he is not the +only one that I shall have to marry."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell's hands dropped on her lap, and she looked up at Beth in +dismay. "What do you mean?" she said.</p> + +<p>"Just that," Beth answered.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to tell me you have allowed men to kiss you?" Mrs. Caldwell +cried.</p> + +<p>Beth looked up as if trying to keep her countenance.</p> + +<p>"You wicked girl, how dare you?"</p> + +<p>"Well, mamma, if it were wicked, why didn't you warn me?" Beth said. +"How was I to know?"</p> + +<p>"Your womanly instincts ought to have taught you better."</p> + +<p>Unfortunately for this theory, all Beth's womanly instincts set in the +opposite direction. Her father's ardent temperament warred in her with +Aunt Victoria's Puritan principles, and there was no telling as yet +which would prevail. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span></p> + +<p>Beth made no reply to that last assertion of her mother's, but remained +half sitting on the table, with her feet stretched out in front of her, +and her hands supporting her on either side, which brought her shoulders +up to her ears. It was a most inelegant attitude, and peculiarly +exasperating to Mrs. Caldwell.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you wicked—you bad—you <i>abandoned</i> girl!" she exclaimed, losing +her temper altogether. "My heart is <i>broken</i> with you. Go to your room, +and stay there. I feel as if I could never endure the sight of you +again."</p> + +<p>Beth gathered herself together slowly, and strolled away with an air of +indifference; but as soon as she found herself alone in her own room +with the door shut, she dropped on her knees and lifted her clasped +hands to heaven in an agony of remorse for having tormented her mother, +and in despair about that wretched engagement. "O Lord, what am I to +do?" she said; "what am I to do?" If she could make up her mind once for +all either way, she would be satisfied; it was this miserable state of +indecision that was unendurable.</p> + +<p>Presently in the room below, she thought she heard her mother sob aloud. +She listened, breathless. Her mother was sobbing. Beth jumped up and +opened her door. What should she do? Her unhappy mother—heart-broken, +indeed. What a life hers was—a life of hard privation, of suffering +most patiently borne, of the utmost self-denial for her children's sake, +of loss, of loneliness, of bitter disappointment! First her husband +taken, then her dearest child; her ungrateful boys not over-kind to her; +and now this last blow dealt her by Beth, just when the prospect of +getting her well married was bringing a gleam of happiness into her +mother's life. The piteous sobs continued. Beth stole downstairs, bent +on atoning in her own person by any sacrifice for all the sorrows, no +matter by whom occasioned, which she felt were culminating in this final +outburst of grief. She found her mother standing beside the high +old-fashioned mantelpiece, leaning her poor head against it.</p> + +<p>"Mamma," Beth cried, "do forgive me. I never meant to—I never meant to +hurt you so. I will do anything to please you. I was only teasing you +about kissing men. I haven't been in the habit of kissing any one. And +of course I'll marry Dan as soon as you like. And we'll all be +happy—there!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Caldwell held out her arms, and Beth sprang into them, and hugged +her tight and burst into tears. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span></p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXXVII</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">That</span> autumn Beth was married to Daniel Maclure, + M.D., &c., &c. At the +time of her marriage she hardly knew what his full name was. She had +always heard him called "the doctor" or "Dr. Dan," and had never thought +of him as anything else, nor did she know anything else about him—his +past, his family, or his prospects, which, considering her age, is not +surprising; but what did surprise her in after years, when she +discovered it, was to find that her friends who made the match knew no +more about him than she did. He had scraped acquaintance with her +brother Jim in a public billiard-room in Rainharbour, and been +introduced by him to the other members of her family, who, because his +address was good and his appearance attractive, had taken it for granted +that everything else concerning him was equally satisfactory.</p> + +<p>Beth decided to keep her surname for her father's sake, and also because +she could not see why she should lose her identity because she had +married. Everybody said it was absurd of her; but she was determined, +and from the time of her marriage she signed herself Elizabeth Caldwell +Maclure.</p> + +<p>Dan confided to Mrs. Caldwell that he was troubled by some few small +debts which he was most anxious to pay in order that he might start his +married life clear, and the poor lady generously reduced her slender +income by selling some shares to raise the money for him. When he +accepted it, his eyes filled with tears, as was usual with him in +moments of emotion.</p> + +<p>"O mamma!" Beth exclaimed when she heard of the sacrifice, "how could +you? I do not deserve such generosity, for I have never been any comfort +to you; and I shall always be miserable about it, thinking how badly you +want the money."</p> + +<p>"There will be one mouth less to feed when you have gone, you know, +Beth," Mrs. Caldwell answered bravely, "and I shall be the happier for +thinking that you start clear. Debt crushed us our whole married life. I +shall be the easier if I know you haven't that burden to bear. Besides, +Dan will repay me as soon as he can. He is a thoroughly good fellow."</p> + +<p>"You shall be repaid, mamma, in more ways than one, if I live," Beth +vowed.</p> + +<p>Uncle James Patten doled out a five-pound-note to Beth by way of a +wedding present from the long rent-roll her mother should have +inherited.</p> + +<p>"This is to help with your trousseau, but do not be extravagant," he +said in his pleasant way. "As the wife of a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span> + professional man, you will +descend from my class to the class below, the middle class, and you +should dress according to your station. But you are doing as well as we +could expect you to do, considering your character and conduct. Some +doubted if you would ever receive an offer of marriage, or have the +sense to accept it if one were made you; but I always said you would +have the doctor if he would have you."</p> + +<p>Beth's impulse was to throw the note at him, but she restrained herself +on her brother Jim's account. It was suspected that Uncle James was only +waiting for a plausible excuse to disinherit Jim; and he found it the +next time Jim stayed at Fairholm. They were in the drawing-room together +one day, and a maid was mending the fire. Uncle James was sitting at a +writing-table with a mirror in front of him, and he declared that in +that mirror he distinctly saw his nephew chuck the maid-servant under +the chin, which was conduct such as Mr. James Patten could not be +expected to tolerate in his heir; so he altered his will, and after that +all communication ceased between the two families, except such as Aunt +Grace Mary managed to keep up surreptitiously.</p> + +<p>Aunt Grace Mary was very generous to Beth, and so also was old Lady +Benyon. Had it not been for these two, Beth would have left home +ill-provided for. Thanks to them, however, she was spared that +humiliation, and went with an ample outfit.</p> + +<p>In the days preceding her marriage, Beth sometimes thought of Charlotte, +and of the long fiction of that wonderful time when they were friends. +Her busy brain had created many another story since then, but none that +had the fascination of that first sustained effort. Hector's mysterious +establishment on the other side of the headland, the troubles in Spain, +the wicked machinations of their enemies, the Secret Service of +Humanity, the horses, yacht, and useful doctor—who had not held a high +place in their estimation, being merely looked upon as a trustworthy +tool of Hector's; yet it was he whom Beth was to marry. She wondered +what Charlotte would think of her when she heard it, and of Hector and +the whole story; but she never knew, for Charlotte was at school in +France during this period, and never came into Beth's life again.</p> + +<p>During the early days of her married life a sort of content settled upon +Beth; a happy sense of well-being, of rest and satisfaction, came to +her, and that strange vague yearning ache, the presence of which made +all things incomplete, was laid. The atmosphere in which she now lived +was sensuous, not spiritual, and although she was unaware of this, she +felt its influence. Dan made much of her, and she liked that; but the +vision and the dream had ceased. Her intellectual activity was +stimulated, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a></span> + however, and it was not long before she began to think for +herself more clearly and connectedly than she had ever done before.</p> + +<p>They spent the first few weeks in London in a whirl of excitement, +living at sumptuous restaurants, and going to places of amusement every +night, where Beth would sit entranced with music, singing, dancing, and +acting, never taking her eyes from the stage, and yearning in her +enthusiasm to do the same things herself—not doubting but that she +could either, so perfectly had she the power to identify herself with +the performers, and realise, as from within, what their sensations must +be.</p> + +<p>When she had been in London as a girl at school, she had seen nothing +but the bright side of life, the wholesome, happy, young side. A poor +beggar to be helped, or a glimpse in the street of a sorrowful face that +saddened her for a moment, was the worst she knew of the great wicked +city; but now, with Dan for a companion, the realities of vice and crime +were brought home to her; she learnt to read signs of depravity in the +faces of men and women, and to associate certain places with evil-doers +as their especial haunts. Her husband's interest in the subject was +inexhaustible; he seemed to think of little else. He would point out +people in places of public amusement, and describe in detail the +loathsome lives they led. Every well-dressed woman he saw he suspected. +He would pick out one because she had yellow hair, and another because +her two little children were precocious and pretty, and declare them to +be "kept women." That a handsome woman could be anything but vicious had +apparently never occurred to him. He was very high-minded on the subject +of sin if the sinner were a woman, and thought no degradation sufficient +for her. In speaking of such women he used epithets from which Beth +recoiled. She allowed them to pass, however, in consideration of the +moral exasperation that inspired them, and the personal rectitude his +attitude implied. The subject had a horrible kind of fascination for +her; she hated it, yet she could not help listening, although her heart +ached and her soul sickened. She listened in silence, however, neither +questioning nor discussing, but simply attending; collecting material +for which she had no use at the moment, and storing it without +design—material which she would find herself forced to turn to account +eventually, but in what way and to what purpose there was no knowing as +yet.</p> + +<p>They were to live at Slane, an inland town near Morningquest, where +modern manufactures had competed successfully with ancient agricultural +interests, and altered the attitude of the landed gentry towards trade, +and towards the townspeople, beguiling them to be less exclusive because +there was money in +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a></span> + the town, self-interest weighing with them all at +once in regard to the neighbours whom Christian precept had vainly urged +them to recognise.</p> + +<p>Dr. Maclure had taken an old-fashioned house in a somewhat solitary +position on the outskirts of Slane, but near enough to the town to +secure paying patients, as he hoped, while far enough out of it to +invite county callers. It stood just on the highroad, from which it was +only divided by a few evergreen shrubs and an iron railing; but it was +picturesque, nevertheless, with creepers—magnolia, wisteria, and +ivy—clustering on the dark red bricks. At the back there was a good +garden, and in front, across the road, were green meadows with +hedgerows—a tangle of holly, hawthorn, and bramble—and old trees, +surviving giants of a forest long uprooted and forgotten. It was a rich +and placid scene, infinitely soothing to one fresh from the turmoil of +the city, and weary of the tireless motion, the incessant sound and +tumult of the sea. When Beth looked out upon the meadows first, she +sighed and said to herself, "Surely, surely one should be happy here!"</p> + +<p>The house was inconveniently arranged inside, and had less accommodation +than its outside pretensions promised; but Beth was delighted with it +all, and took possession of her keys with pride. She was determined to +be a good manager, and make her housekeeping money go a long way. Her +dream was to save out of it, and have something over to surprise Dan +with when the bills were paid. To her chagrin, however, she found that +she was not to have any housekeeping money at all.</p> + +<p>"You are too young to have the care of managing money," said Dan. "Just +give the orders, and I'll see about paying the bills."</p> + +<p>But the system did not answer. Beth had no idea what she ought to be +spending, and either the bills were too high or the diet was too low, +and Dan grumbled perpetually. If the housekeeping were at all frugal, he +was anything but cheery during meals; but if she ordered him all he +wanted, there were sure to be scenes on the day of reckoning. He blamed +her bad management, and she said nothing; but she knew she could have +managed on any reasonable sum to which he might have limited her. She +had too much self-respect to ask for money, however, if he did not +choose to give it to her.</p> + +<p>It surprised her to find that what he had to eat was a matter of great +importance to him. He fairly gloated over things he liked, and in order +to indulge him, and keep the bills down besides, she went without +herself; and he never noticed her self-denial. He was apt to take too +much of his favourite dishes, and was constantly regretting it. "I wish +I had not eaten so +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span> + much of that cursed <i>vol au vent</i>; it never agrees +with me," he would say; but he would eat as much as ever next time. Beth +could not help observing such traits. She did not set them down to his +personal discredit, however, but to the discredit of his sex at large. +She had always heard that men were self-indulgent, and Dan was a man; +that was the nearest she came to blaming him at first. Being her husband +had made a difference in her feeling for him; before their marriage she +was not so tolerant.</p> + +<p>Her housekeeping duties by no means filled her day. An hour or so in the +morning was all they occupied at most, and the time must have hung heavy +on her hands had she had no other pursuit to beguile her. Fortunately +she had no intention of allowing her plans for the improvement of her +mind to lapse simply because she had married. On the contrary, she felt +the defects of her education more keenly than ever, and expected Dan to +sympathise with her in her efforts to remedy them. He came in one day +soon after they were settled, and found her sitting at the end of the +dining-room table with her back to the window and a number of books +spread out about her.</p> + +<p>"This looks learned," he said. "What are you doing?"</p> + +<p>"I am looking for something to study," she answered. "What writers have +helped you most?"</p> + +<p>"Helped me most!—how do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Well, helped you to be upright, you know, to make good resolutions and +keep straight."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," he said; "I have not felt the need of good resolutions, and +this is the first hint I have had that I require any. If you will +inquire among my friends, I fancy you will find that I have the credit +of going pretty straight as it is."</p> + +<p>"O Dan!" Beth exclaimed, "you quite misunderstand me. I never meant to +insinuate that you are not straight. I was only thinking of the way in +which we all fall short of our ideals."</p> + +<p>"Ideals be hanged!" said Dan. "If a man does his duty, that's ideal +enough, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"I should think so," Beth said pacifically.</p> + +<p>Dan went to the mantelpiece, and stood there, studying himself with +interest in the glass. "A lady told me the other day I looked like a +military man," he said, smoothing his glossy black hair and twisting the +ends of his long moustache.</p> + +<p>"Well, I think you look much more military than medical," Beth replied, +considering him.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad of that," he said, smiling at himself complacently.</p> + +<p>"Are you?" Beth exclaimed in surprise. "Why? A medical man has a finer +career than a military man, and should have a finer presence if ability, +purpose, and character count for anything +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span> towards appearance. +Personally I think I should wish to look like what I am, if I could +choose."</p> + +<p>"So you do," he rejoined, adjusting his hat with precision as he spoke, +and craning his neck to see himself sideways in the glass. "You look +like a silly little idiot. But never mind. That's all a girl need be if +she's pretty; and if she isn't pretty, she's of no account, so it +doesn't matter what she is."</p> + +<p>When he had gone, Beth sat for a long time thinking; but she did no more +reading that day, nor did she ever again consult Dan about the choice of +books, or expect him to sympathise with her in her work.</p> + +<p>For the first few months of her married life, she had no pocket-money at +all. Aunt Grace Mary slipped two sovereigns into her hand when they +parted, but these Beth kept, she hardly knew why, as she had her +half-year's dividend to look forward to. About the time that her money +was due, Dan began to talk incessantly of money difficulties. Bills were +pressing, and he did not know where on earth to look for a +five-pound-note. He did not think Beth too young to be worried morning, +noon, and night on the subject, although she took it very seriously. One +morning after he had made her look anxious, he suddenly remembered a +letter he had for her, and handed it to her. It was from her lawyer, and +contained a cheque for twenty-five pounds, the long-looked-forward-to +pocket money.</p> + +<p>"Will this be of any use to you?" Beth asked, handing him the cheque.</p> + +<p>His countenance cleared. "Of use to me? I should think it would!" he +exclaimed. "It will just make all the difference. You must sign it, +though."</p> + +<p>When she had signed it, he put it in his pocket-book, and his spirits +went up to the cheery point. He adjusted his hat at the glass over the +dining-room mantelpiece, lit a shilling cigar, and went off to his +hospital jauntily. Beth was glad to have relieved him of his anxiety. +She half hoped he might give her something out of the cheque, if it were +only a pound or two, she wanted some little things so badly; but he +never offered her a penny. She thought of Aunt Grace Mary's two +sovereigns, but the dread of having nothing in case of an emergency kept +her from spending them.</p> + +<p>There was one thing Dan did which Beth resented. He opened her letters.</p> + +<p>"Husband and wife are one," he said. "They should have no secrets from +each other. I should like you to open my letters, too, but they contain +professional secrets, you see, and that wouldn't do."</p> + +<p>He spoke in what he called his cheery way, but Beth had +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span> begun to feel +that there was another word which would express his manner better, and +now it occurred to her.</p> + +<p>"You have no right to open my letters," she said; "and being facetious +on the subject does not give you any."</p> + +<p>"But if I chose to?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"It will be a breach of good taste and good feeling," she answered.</p> + +<p>No more was said on the subject, and Dan did not open her letters for a +little, but then he began again. He had always some excuse, +however—either he hadn't looked at the address, or he had been +impatient to see if there were any message for himself, and so on; but +Beth was not mollified although she said nothing, and her annoyance made +her secretive. She would watch for the postman, and take the letters +from him herself, and conceal her own, so that Dan might not even know +that she had received any.</p> + +<p>She had a difficulty with him about another matter too. His lover-like +caresses while they were engaged had not been distasteful to her; but +after their marriage he kept up an incessant billing and cooing, and of +a coarser kind, which soon satiated her. She was a nicely balanced +creature, with many interests in life, and love could be but one among +the number in any case; but Dan almost seemed to expect it to be the +only one.</p> + +<p>"Oh dear! must I be embraced again?" she exclaimed one day, with quite +comical dismay on being interrupted in the middle of a book that was +interesting her at the moment.</p> + +<p>Dan looked disconcerted. In his cheerful masculine egotism it had not +occurred to him that Beth might find incessant demonstrations of +affection monotonous. He would smile at pictures of the waning of the +honeymoon, where the husband returns to his book and his dog, and the +wife sits apart sad and neglected; it was inevitable that the man should +tire, he had other things to think of; but that the wife should be the +first to be bored was incredible, and worse: it was unwomanly.</p> + +<p>Dan went to the mantelpiece, and stood looking down into the fire, and +his grey-green eyes became suffused.</p> + +<p>"Have I hurt you, Dan?" Beth exclaimed, jumping up and going to him.</p> + +<p>"Hurt me!" he said, taking out his pocket-handkerchief, "that is not the +word for it. You have made me very unhappy."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Beth, her own inclinations disregarded at once, "I <i>am</i> +sorry!"</p> + +<p>But he had satiated her once for all, and she never recovered any zest +for his caresses. She found no charm or freshness in them, especially +after she perceived that they were for his own gratification, +irrespective of hers. The privileges of love are not +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span> to be wrested from +us with impunity. Habits of dutiful submission destroy the power to +respond, and all that they leave to survive of the warm reality of love +at last is a cold pretence. By degrees, as Beth felt forced to be +dutiful, she ceased to be affectionate.</p> + +<p>Although Dan dressed to go out with scrupulous care, he took no trouble +to make himself nice in the house. Care in dress was not in him a +necessary part and expression of a refined nature, but an attempt to win +consideration. He never dressed for dinner when they were alone +together. It was a trouble rather than a refreshment to him to get rid +of the dust of the day and the associations of his walking-dress. This +was a twofold disappointment to Beth. She had expected him to have the +common politeness to dress for her benefit, and she was not pleased to +find that the punctiliousness he displayed in the matter on occasion was +merely veneer. It was a defect of breeding that struck her unpleasantly. +They had been poor enough at home, but Beth had been accustomed all her +life to have delicate china about her, and pictures and books, to walk +on soft carpets and sit in easy-chairs; possessions of a superior class +which, in her case, were symbols bespeaking refinement of taste and +habits from which her soul had derived satisfaction even while her poor +little fragile body starved. She dressed regularly and daintily herself, +and Dan at the bottom of the table in his morning coat was an offence to +her. She said nothing at first, however, so his manners still further +deteriorated, until one night, after she had gone to her room, he walked +in with his hat on, smoking a cigar. It was this last discourtesy that +roused her to rebel.</p> + +<p>"This is my bedroom," she said significantly.</p> + +<p>"I know," he answered.</p> + +<p>"You know—yet you keep your hat on, and you are smoking," she +proceeded.</p> + +<p>"Why," he rejoined, "and if I do, what then? I know ladies who let their +husbands smoke in bed."</p> + +<p>"Probably," she said. "I have heard of more singularly coarse things +than that even. But I am accustomed to pure air in my room, and I must +have it."</p> + +<p>"And suppose I should choose to stay here and smoke?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Of course I could not prevent you," she answered; "but I should go and +sleep in another room."</p> + +<p>"H'm," he grunted. "You're mighty particular."</p> + +<p>But he went away all the same, and did not appear there again either +with his hat on or smoking a cigar.</p> + +<p>Beth suffered miserably from the want of proper privacy in her life. She +had none whatever now. It had been her habit +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</a></span> + to read and reflect when +she went to bed, to prepare for a tranquil night by setting aside the +troubles of the day, and purifying her mind systematically even as she +washed her body; but all that was impossible if her husband were at +home. He would break in upon her reading with idle gossip, fidget about +the room when she wished to meditate, and leave her no decent time of +privacy for anything. He had his own dressing-room, where he was secure +from interruption, but never had the delicacy to comprehend that his +presence could be any inconvenience to Beth. And it was worse than an +inconvenience. It was a positive hardship—never to be sure of a moment +alone.</p> + +<p>One afternoon, when she had locked herself in her bedroom, he came and +turned the handle of the door noisily.</p> + +<p>"Open the door," he said.</p> + +<p>"Do you want anything?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Open the door," he repeated.</p> + +<p>She obeyed, and he came in, and glanced round suspiciously.</p> + +<p>"What were you doing?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh," she exclaimed, "this is intolerable!"</p> + +<p>"What is intolerable?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"This intrusion," she replied. "I want to be alone for a little; can't +you understand that?"</p> + +<p>"No, I cannot understand a wife locking her husband out of her room, and +what's more, you've no business to do it. I've a legal right to come +here whenever I choose."</p> + +<p>Then Beth began to realise what the law of man was with regard to her +person.</p> + +<p>"I never intrude upon you when you shut yourself up," she remonstrated.</p> + +<p>"Oh, that is different," he answered arrogantly. "I may have brainwork +to do, or something important to think about There is no comparison."</p> + +<p>Beth went to her dressing-table, sat down in front of it, folded her +hands, and waited doggedly.</p> + +<p>He looked at her for a little; then he said, "I don't understand your +treatment of me at all, Beth. But there's no understanding women." He +spoke as if it were the women's fault, and to their discredit, that he +couldn't understand them.</p> + +<p>Beth made no answer, and he finally took himself off, slamming the door +after him.</p> + +<p>"Thank goodness!" Beth exclaimed. "One would think he had bought me."</p> + +<p>Then she sat wondering what she should do. She must have some corner +where she would be safe from intrusion. He had his consulting-room, a +room called his laboratory, a surgery, and a dressing-room, where no one +would dream of following him if +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</a></span> + he shut the door; she had literally not +a corner. She left her bedroom, and walked through the other rooms on +the same floor as she considered the matter; then she went up to the +next floor, where the servants slept. Above that again there was an +attic used as a box-room, and she went up there too. It was a barn of a +place, supported by pillars, and extending apparently over the whole of +the storey below. The roof sloped to the floor on either side, and the +whole place was but ill-lighted by two small windows looking to the +north. Dr. Maclure had taken over the house as it stood, furniture and +all, from the last occupants, by whom this great attic had evidently +been used as a lumber-room. There were various pieces of furniture in +it—tables, chairs, and drawers, some broken, some in fair condition. At +the farther end, opposite to the door, there was a pile of packing-cases +and travelling-trunks. Beth had always thought that they stood up +against the wall, but on going over to them now, she discovered that +there was a space behind. The pile was too high for her to see over it, +but by going down on her hands and knees where the sloping roof was too +low for her to stoop, she found she could creep round it. It was the +kind of thing a child would have done, but what was Beth but a child? On +the other side of the pile it was almost dark. She could see something, +however, when she stood up, which looked like a mark on the whitewash, +and on running her hand over it she discovered it to be a narrow door +flush with the wall. There was no handle or latch to it, but there was a +key which had rusted in the keyhole and was not to be turned. The door +was not locked, however, and Beth pushed it open, and found herself in a +charming little room with a fireplace at one end of it, and opposite, at +the other end, a large bow window. Beth was puzzled to understand how +there came to be a room there at all. Then she recollected a sort of +tower there was at the side of the house, which formed a deep embrasure +in the drawing-room, a dressing-room to the visitor's room, and a +bath-room on the floor above. The window looked out on the garden at the +back of the house. A light iron balcony ran round it, the rail of which +was so thickly covered with ivy that very little of the window was +visible from below. Beth had noticed it, however, only she thought it +was a dummy, and so also did Dan. The little room looked bright and cosy +with the afternoon sun streaming in. It seemed to have been occupied at +one time by some person of fastidious taste, judging by what furniture +remained—a square Chippendale table with slender legs, two high-backed +chairs covered with old-fashioned tapestry, and a huge mahogany bookcase +of the same period, with glass doors above and cupboards below. The high +white mantelpiece, adorned with vases and festoons of flowers, was of +Adam's design, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[Pg 347]</a></span> + and so also was the dado and the cornice. The walls were +painted a pale warm pink. A high brass fender, pierced, surrounded the +fireplace, and there were a poker, tongs, and shovel to match, and a +small brass scuttle still full of coals. There were ashes in the grate, +too, as if the room had only lately been occupied. The boards were bare, +but white and well-fitting, and in one corner of the room there was a +piece of carpet rolled up.</p> + +<p>Beth dropped on to one of the dusty chairs, and looked round. Everything +about her was curiously familiar, and her first impression was that she +had been there before. On the other hand, she could hardly believe in +the reality of what she saw, she thought she must be dreaming, for here +was exactly what she had been pining for most in the whole wide world of +late, a secret spot, sacred to herself, where she would be safe from +intrusion.</p> + +<p>She went downstairs for some oil for the lock, and patiently worked at +it until at last she succeeded in turning the key. Then, as it was too +late to do anything more that day, she locked the door, and carried the +key off in her pocket triumphantly.</p> + +<p>Half the night she lay awake thinking of her secret chamber; and as soon +as Dan had gone out next morning, and she had done her housekeeping, she +stole upstairs with duster and brush, and began to set it in order. All +her treasures were contained in some old trunks of Aunt Victoria's which +were in the attic, but had not been unpacked because she had no place to +put the things. Dan had seen some of these treasures at Rainharbour, and +considered them old rubbish, and, not thinking it likely that there +would be anything else in the boxes, he had taken no further interest in +them. He would have liked to have left them behind altogether, and even +tried to laugh Beth out of what he called her sentimental attachment to +odds and ends; but as most of the things had belonged to Aunt Victoria, +she took his ridicule so ill that he wisely let the subject drop. He had +been somewhat hasty in his estimation of the value of the contents of +the boxes, however, for there were some handsome curios, a few +miniatures and pictures of great artistic merit, some rare editions of +books, besides laces, jewels, brocades, and other stuffs in them.</p> + +<p>When Beth had swept and dusted, she put down the carpet. Then she began +to unpack. Among the first things she found were the old French books, a +quarto Bible with the Apocrypha in it, Shakespeare in several volumes, +and her school-books and note-books; some ornaments, some beautiful old +curtains, and a large deep rug, like a Turkey carpet, in crimson and +green and purple and gold, worked by Aunt Victoria. This she spread +before the fireplace. The doorway she covered with a curtain, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</a></span> and two +more she hung on either side of the window, so that they could not be +seen from below. Her books of reference, desk, note-books, and writing +materials she put on the table, arranged the ornaments on the +mantelpiece, and hung the miniatures and pictures on the walls. Then she +sat down and looked about her, well pleased with the whole effect. +"Now," she exclaimed, "I am at home, thank God! I shall be able to +study, to read and write, think and pray at last, undisturbed."</p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXXVIII"></a>CHAPTER XXXVIII</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">As</span> Dan sympathised with none of Beth's tastes + or interests, and seemed +to have none of his own with which she could sympathise, their stock of +conversation was soon exhausted, and there was nothing like +companionship in their intercourse. If Beth had had no resources in +herself, she would have had but a sorry time of it in those days, +especially as she received no kindness from any one in Slane. Some of +the other medical men's wives called when she first arrived, and she +returned their calls punctually, but their courtesy went no farther. +Mrs. Carne, the wife of the leading medical practitioner, asked her to +lunch, and Mrs. Jeffreys, a surgeon's wife, asked her to afternoon tea; +but as these invitations did not include her husband, she refused them. +She invited these ladies and their husbands in return, however, but they +both pleaded previous engagements.</p> + +<p>After the Maclures had been some little time at Slane, Lady Benyon +bethought her of an old friend of hers, one Lady Beg, who lived in the +neighbourhood, and asked her to call upon Beth, which she did forthwith, +for she was one of those delightful old ladies who like nothing better +than to be doing a kindness. She came immediately, bringing an +invitation to lunch on the following Sunday, already written in case she +should find no one at home.</p> + +<p>Dan was delighted, "We shall meet nothing but county people there," he +said, "and that's the proper set for us. They always do the right thing, +you see. They're the only people worth knowing."</p> + +<p>"But Beg is miles away from here," Beth said; "how shall we go?"</p> + +<p>"We'll go in the dogcart, of course," Dan answered.</p> + +<p>He had set up a dogcart on their arrival, but this was the first time he +had proposed to take Beth out in it.</p> + +<p>As they drove along on Sunday morning in the bright sunshine, Dan's +spirits overflowed in a characteristic way at the prospect of meeting +"somebody decent," as he expressed it, and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[Pg 349]</a></span> + he made remarks about the +faces and figures of all the women they passed on the road, criticising +them as if they were cattle to be sold at so much a point.</p> + +<p>"That little girl there," he said of one, whom he beamed upon and ogled +as they passed, "reminds me of a fair-haired little devil I picked up +one night in Paris. Gad! she <i>was</i> a bad un! up to more tricks than any +other I ever knew. She used to—" (here followed a description of some +of her peculiar practices).</p> + +<p>"I wish you would not tell me these things," Beth remonstrated.</p> + +<p>But he only laughed. "You know you're amused," he said. "It's just your +conventional affectation that makes you pretend to object. That's the +way women drive their husbands elsewhere for amusement; they won't take +a proper intelligent interest in life, so there's nothing to talk to +them about. I agree with the advanced party. They're always preaching +that women should know the world. Women who <i>do</i> know the world have no +nonsense about them, and are a jolly sight better company than your +starched Puritans who pretend to know nothing. It's the most interesting +side of life after all, and the most instructive; and I wonder at your +want of intelligence, Beth. You shouldn't be afraid to know the natural +history of humanity."</p> + +<p>"Nor am I," Beth answered quietly; "nor the natural—or +unnatural—depravity either, which is what you really mean, I believe. +But knowing it, and delighting in it as a subject of conversation, are +two very different things. Jesting about that side of life affects me +like mud on a clean coat. I resent being splashed with it, and try to +get rid of it, but unfortunately it sticks and stains."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you're quite right," Dan answered unctuously. "It's just shocking +the stories that are told—" and for the rest of the way he discoursed +about morals, illustrating his meaning as he proceeded with anecdotes of +the choicest description.</p> + +<p>When they arrived at Beg House, they found the company more mixed than +Dan had anticipated. Dr. and Mrs. Carne were there, Mr. and Mrs. +Jeffreys, and Mr., Mrs., and Miss Petterick. Mr. Petterick was a +solicitor of bumptious manners and doubtful reputation, whom the whole +county hated, but tolerated because of his wealth and shrewdness, either +of which they liked to be in a position to draw upon if necessary. But +besides these townspeople, there were Sir George and Lady Galbraith, Mr. +and Mrs. Kilroy of Ilverthorpe, and Mrs. Orton Beg, a widowed +daughter-in-law of Lady Beg's.</p> + +<p>Dr. Maclure immediately made up to Sir George Galbraith, who was also a +medical man, and of great repute in his own line. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[Pg 350]</a></span> He was a county +magnate besides, and a man of wealth and importance by reason of a +baronetcy somewhat unexpectedly inherited, and a beautiful country-seat. +He continued to practise, however, for love of his profession, but used +it as a means of doing good rather than as a source of income. In +appearance he was a tall, rather awkward man, with a fine head and a +strong, plain face. He spoke in that deliberate Scotch way which has a +ring of sincerity in it and inspires confidence, and the contrast +between his manner and Dan's struck Beth unpleasantly. She wished Dan +would be less effusive; it was almost as if he were cringing; and she +thought he should have waited for Sir George Galbraith, who was the +older man, to have made the first advance.</p> + +<p>Beth herself was at her ease as soon as she came among these people. It +was the social atmosphere to which she had been accustomed. Mrs. Carne, +Mrs. Jeffreys, and Mrs. Petterick were on their best behaviour, but Beth +had only to be natural. The county people were all nice to her, and the +other town ladies, who had hitherto slighted her, looked on and wondered +to see her so well received. At luncheon, as there were not gentlemen +enough to go round, she sat between Sir George Galbraith and Mrs. Orton +Beg. Mrs. Kilroy sat opposite. Sir George had known Mrs. Kilroy all her +life. It was he, in fact, who nicknamed her and her brother "The +Heavenly Twins" in the days when, as children, they used to be the +delight of their grandfather, the old Duke of Morningquest, and the +terror of their parents, Mr. and Lady Adeline Hamilton-Wells.</p> + +<p>As soon as they were seated, Mrs. Kilroy attacked Sir George on some +subject which they had previously discussed, and there ensued a little +playful war of words.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you're just a phrase-maker," Mrs. Kilroy exclaimed at last, finding +herself worsted; "and phrases prove nothing."</p> + +<p>"What is a phrase-maker?" he asked with a twinkle.</p> + +<p>"Why, a phrase-maker is a person who recklessly launches a saying, +winged by wit, and of superior brevity and distinctness, but not +necessarily true—a saying which flies direct to the mind, and, being of +a cutting nature, carves an indelible impression there," said Mrs. +Kilroy—"an impression which numbs the intellect and prevents us +reasoning for ourselves. Opinion is formed for the most part of phrases, +not of knowledge and observation. The things people say smartly are +quoted, not because they are true, but because they are smart. A lie +well put will carry conviction to the average mind more surely than a +good reason if ill-expressed, because most people have an æsthetic sense +that is satisfied by a happy play upon words, but few have reason enough +to discriminate when the brilliant +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[Pg 351]</a></span> + ingenuity of the phrase-maker is +pitted against a plain statement of the bald truth."</p> + +<p>"As, for instance?" asked Sir George.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Man's love is of his life a thing apart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis woman's whole existence,"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Mrs. Kilroy responded glibly. "That is quoted everywhere, and I have +never heard it questioned, yet it is a flagrant case of confounding +smartness with accuracy. Love of the kind that Byron meant is quite as +much a thing apart from woman's life as from man's; more men, in fact, +make the pursuit of it their whole existence than women do."</p> + +<p>"You are right," said Sir George thoughtfully. "Love is certainly not a +modern woman's whole existence, and she never dies of it. She feels it +strongly, but it does not swamp her. In a bad attack, she may go to bed +young one night and rise next day with grey hairs in her head, and write +a book about it; but then she recovers: and I think you are right about +phrases, too. 'Syllables govern the world,' John Selden said; but +'phrases' would have been the better word. Phrases are the keynotes to +life; they set the tune to which men insensibly shape their course, and +so rule us for good and ill. This is a time of talk, and formidable is +the force of phrases. Catch-words are creative; they do not prove that a +thing is—they cause it to be."</p> + +<p>"Then an unscrupulous phrase-maker may be a danger to the community," +Beth observed.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Sir George; "but on the other hand, one who is scrupulous +would be a philanthropist of extraordinary power."</p> + +<p>"Now, isn't that like his craft and subtlety, Evadne?" said Mrs. Kilroy +to Lady Galbraith. "He has been gradually working up to that in order to +make Mrs. Maclure suppose I intended to pay him a compliment when I +called him a phrase-maker."</p> + +<p>"You are taking a mean advantage of an honest attempt on my part to +arrive at the truth," said Sir George.</p> + +<p>"I believe you blundered into that without seeing in the least where you +were going," Beth observed naïvely.</p> + +<p>Everybody smiled, except Dan, who told her on the way home she had made +a great mistake to say such a thing, and she must be careful in future, +or she would give offence and make enemies for him.</p> + +<p>"No fear with people like that," said Beth. "They all understood me."</p> + +<p>"Which is as much as to say that your husband does not," said Dan, +assuming his hurt expression. "Very well. Go your own way. But you'll be +sorry for it." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[Pg 352]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What a delightful person Mrs. Orton Beg is," Beth observed, to make a +diversion; "and so nice-looking too!"</p> + +<p>"You are easily pleased! Why, she's forty if she's a day!" Dan +ejaculated, speaking as if that were to her discredit, and must deprive +her of any consideration from him.</p> + +<p>The next excitement was a military ball. Dan determined to go, and Beth +was ready enough; she had never been to a ball.</p> + +<p>"But how about a dress?" she said. "There has been such a sudden change +in the fashion since mine were made, I'm afraid I have nothing that will +do."</p> + +<p>"Then get a new one," Dan said.</p> + +<p>"What! and add to the bills?" Beth objected.</p> + +<p>"Oh, bother the bills!" he answered in the tone he called cheery. "I've +had them coming in all my life and I'm still here. Get a thing when you +want it, and pay for it when you can—that's my motto. Why, my tailor's +bill alone is up in the hundreds.</p> + +<p>"But that was the bill mamma gave you the money to settle," Beth +exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"I know," he answered casually. "I got the money out of her for that, +but I had to spend it on your amusement in town, my dear."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" Beth ejaculated—"how could you?"</p> + +<p>"How could I?" he answered coolly. "Well, I couldn't of course if I +hadn't been clever; but I can always get anything I like out of old +ladies. They dote on me. You've only got to amuse them, you know, and +pour in a little sentiment on occasion. Let them understand you've been +rather a naughty man, but you know what's right—that always fetches +them. Your mother would have sold out all she had to help me when she +found I meant to repent and settle. But of course I wouldn't take +anything that was not absolutely necessary," he added magnanimously.</p> + +<p>Beth compressed her lips and frowned. "Do you mean to say you obtained +money from a poor woman like my mother for a special purpose which she +approved, and spent that money on something else?" she asked.</p> + +<p>Dan changed countenance. "I got the money from your mother to pay my +tailor's bill; but the circumstance of your spending more money in town +than I could afford compelled me to use it for another purpose," he +answered in rather a blustering tone.</p> + +<p>"I spent no money in town," Beth said.</p> + +<p>"I had to spend it on you then," he rejoined, "and a nice lament you +would have made if I hadn't! But it's all the same. Husband and wife are +one; and I maintain that the money was +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[Pg 353]</a></span> + given to me to pay a just debt, +and I paid a just debt with it. Now, what have you to say against that +to the disparagement of your husband?"</p> + +<p>He looked Beth straight in the face as he spoke, as if the nature of the +transaction would be changed by staring her out of countenance, and she +returned his gaze unflinchingly; but not another word would she say on +the subject. There is a sad majority of wives whose attitude towards +their husbands must be one of contemptuous toleration—toleration of +their past depravity and of their present deceits, whatever form they +may take. Such a wife looks upon her husband as a hopeless incurable, +because she knows that he has not the sense, even if he had the strength +of character, to mend his moral defects. Beth fully realised her +husband's turpitude with regard to the money, and also realised the +futility of trying to make him see his own conduct in the matter in any +light not flattering to himself, and she was deeply pained. She had +taken it for granted that Dan would pay interest on the money, but had +not troubled herself to find out if he were doing so, as she now thought +that she ought to have done, for clearly she should have paid it herself +if he did not. True, she never had any money; but that was no excuse, +for there were honest ways of making money, and make it she would. She +was on her way upstairs to her secret chamber to think the matter out +undisturbed when she came to this determination; and as soon as she had +shut herself in, she sank upon her knees, and vowed to God solemnly to +pay back every farthing, and the interest in full, if she had to work +her fingers to the bone. Curiously enough, it was with her fingers she +first thought of working, not with her brain. She had seen an +advertisement in a daily paper of several depôts for the sale of +"ladies' work" in London and other places, and she determined at once to +try that method of making money. Work of all kinds came easily to her, +and happily she still had her two sovereigns, which would be enough to +lay in a stock of materials to begin with. Her pin-money Dan regularly +appropriated as soon as it arrived, with the facetious remark that it +would just pay for her keep; and so far Beth had let him have it without +a murmur, yielding in that as in all else, however much against her own +inclinations, for gentleness, and also with a vague notion of making up +to him in some sort for his own shortcomings, which she could not help +fancying must be as great a trouble to him as they were to her. She had +grown to have a very real affection for Dan, as indeed she would have +had for any one who was passably kind to her; but her estimate of his +character, as she gradually became acquainted with it, was never +influenced by her affection, except in so far as she pitied him for +traits which would have made her despise another man. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[Pg 354]</a></span></p> + +<p>Since her marriage she had given up her free, wild, wandering habits. +She would go into the town to order things at the shops in the morning, +and take a solitary walk out into the country in the afternoon perhaps, +but without any keen enjoyment. Her natural zest for the woods and +fields was suspended. She had lost touch with nature. Instead of looking +about her observantly, as had been her wont, she walked now, as a rule, +with her eyes fixed on the ground, thinking deeply. She was losing +vitality too; her gait was less buoyant, and she was becoming subject to +aches and pains she had never felt before. Dan said they were neuralgic, +and showed that she wanted a tonic, but troubled himself no more about +them. He always seemed to think she should be satisfied when he found a +name for her complaint. She had also become much thinner, which made her +figure childishly young; but in the face she looked old for her +age—five-and-twenty at least—although she was not yet eighteen.</p> + +<p>There was one particularly strong and happy point in Beth's character: +she wasted little or no time in repining for the thing that was done. +All her thought was how to remedy the evil and make amends; so now, when +she had recovered from the first shock of her husband's revelation, she +put the thought of it aside, pulled herself together quickly, and found +relief in setting to work with a will. The exertion alone was +inspiriting, and re-aroused the faculty which had been dormant in her of +late. She went at once to get materials for her work, and stepped out +more briskly than she had done for many a day. She perceived that the +morning air was fresh and sweet, and she inhaled deep draughts of it, +and rejoiced in the sunshine. Just opposite their house, across the +road, on the other side of a wooden paling, the park-like meadow was +intensely green; old horse-chestnuts dotted about it made refreshing +intervals of shade; in the hedgerows the tall elms stood out clear +against the sky, and the gnarled oaks cast fantastic shadows on the +grass; while beyond it, at the farther side of the meadow by the brook, +the row of Canadian poplars which bordered it kept up a continuous +whispering, as was their wont, even on the stillest days. When Beth +first heard them, they spoke a language to her which she comprehended +but could not translate; but the immediate effect of her life with Dan +had been to deaden her perception, so that she could not comprehend. +Then the whispering became a mere rustle of leaves, appealing to nothing +but her sense of hearing, and her delight in their murmur lapsed when +its significance was lost to her spirit.</p> + +<p>But that morning Nature spoke to her again and her eyes were opened. She +saw the grey-green poplars, the gnarled oaks, the dark crests of the +elms upraised against the radiant blue of the sky, and felt a thrill +like triumph as she watched the great +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[Pg 355]</a></span> + masses of cloud, dazzlingly +white, floating in infinite space majestically. The life about her, +too—the twittering of birds in the hedgerows; an Alderney cow with its +calf in the fields; a young colt careering wildly, startled by a passing +train; a big dog that saluted her with friendly nose as he trotted +by—all these said something to her which made her feel that, let what +might happen, it was good to be alive.</p> + +<p>On her way into town she thought out a piece of work, something more +original and effective than the things usually sold in fancy-work shops, +which did not often please her. When she had bought all the materials +that she required, there was very little of her two pounds left, but she +returned in high spirits, carrying the rather large parcel herself, +lest, if it were sent, it should arrive when Dan was at home and excite +his curiosity. He always appeared if he heard the door-bell ring, and +insisted on knowing who or what had come, an inquisitive trick that +irritated Beth into baffling him whenever she could.</p> + +<p>She carried her precious packet up to her secret chamber, and set to +work at once. Dan, when he came in to lunch, was surprised to find her +unusually cheerful. After the temper she had displayed at breakfast, he +had expected to have anything but a pleasant time of it for a little. +Seeing her in good spirits put him also into a genial mood, and he began +at once to talk about himself—his favourite topic.</p> + +<p>"Well, I've had a rattling hard day," he observed. "You'd be surprised +at the amount I've done in the time. I don't believe any other man here +could have done it. I was at that confounded hospital a couple of hours, +and after that I had a round! People are beginning to send for me now as +the last from school. They think I'm up to the latest dodges. The old +men won't like it! I had to go out to the Pettericks to see that girl +Bertha again. Their family doctor could make nothing of her case, but +it's simple enough. The girl's hysterical, that's what she is; and I +know what I'd like to prescribe for her, and that's a husband. Hee-hee! +Soon cure her hysterics! As to the old girl, her mother, she's +got"—then followed a minute description of her ailments, told in the +baldest language. Of two words Dan always chose the coarsest in talking +to Beth, now that they were married, which had made her writhe at first; +but when she had remonstrated, he assumed an injured air, after which +she silently endured the infliction for fear of wounding him. And it was +the same with regard to his patients. The first time he described the +ailment of a lady patient, and made gross comments about her, Beth had +exclaimed—</p> + +<p>"O Dan! what would she think of you if she knew you had told me? Surely +it is a breach of confidence!" +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[Pg 356]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well," he exclaimed, trying to wither her with a look, "you <i>have</i> a +nice opinion of your husband! Is it possible that I cannot speak to my +own wife without bringing such an accusation upon myself! Well, well! +And I'm slaving for you morning, noon, and night, to keep you in some +sort of decency and comfort; and when I come home, and do my best to be +cheery and amuse you, instead of being morose after the strain of the +day, as most men are, all the thanks I get is a speech like that! O holy +matrimony!"</p> + +<p>"I did not mean to annoy you, Dan; I'm sorry," Beth protested.</p> + +<p>"So you should be!" he said; "so you should be! It's mighty hard for me +to feel that my own wife hasn't confidence enough in me to be sure that +I should never say a word either to her or anybody else about any of my +patients to which they'd object."</p> + +<p>"People feel differently on the subject, perhaps," Beth ventured. "I +only know that if I had a doctor who talked to his wife about my +complaints, I should"—despise him, was what she was going to say, but +she changed the phrase—"I should not like it. But you should know what +your own patients feel about it better than I do."</p> + +<p>Even as she spoke, however, her mother's remark of long ago about a +"talking doctor" recurred to her, and she felt lowered in her own +estimation by the kind of concession she was making to him. The tragedy +of such a marriage consists in the effect of the man's mind upon the +woman's, shut up with him in the closest intimacy day and night, and all +the time imbibing his poisoned thoughts. Beth's womanly grace pleaded +with her continually not to hurt her husband since he meant no offence, +not to damp his spirits even when they took a form so distasteful to +her. To check him was to offend him and provoke a scene for nothing, +since his taste was not to be improved; and she would have to have +checked him perpetually, and made a mere nag of herself; for to talk in +this way to her, to tell her objectionable stories, and harp on +depravity of all kinds, was his one idea of pleasurable conversation. It +was seldom, therefore, that she remonstrated—especially in those early +days when she had not as yet perceived that by tacitly acquiescing she +was lending herself to inevitable corruption.</p> + +<p>Just at that time, too, she did not trouble herself much about anything. +She was entirely absorbed in her new object in life—to get the work +done, to make the money, to pay her mother with interest; there was +continual exaltation of spirit in the endeavour. Every moment that she +could safely secure, she spent in her secret chamber, hard at work. Her +outlook was on the sky above, for ever changing; on the gay garden +below, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[Pg 357]</a></span> + whence light airs wafted the fragrance of flowers from time to +time, to her delight; and on a gentle green ascent, covered and crowned +with trees, which shut out the world beyond. Here there was a colony of +rooks, where the birds were busy all day long sometimes, and from which +they were sometimes absent from early morning till sundown, when they +came back cawing by ones and twos and threes, a long straggling +procession of them, their dark iridescent forms with broad black wings +outspread, distinct and decorative, against the happy blue. Beth loved +the birds, and even as she worked she watched them, their housekeepings +and comings and goings; and heard their talk; and often as she worked +she looked out at the fair prospect and up at the sky hopefully, and +vowed again to accomplish one act of justice at all events. She stopped +her regular studies at this time, because she conceived them to be for +her own mere personal benefit, while the task which she had set herself +was for a better purpose. But, although she did not study as had been +her wont, while she sewed she occupied her mind in a way that was much +more beneficial to it than the purposeless acquisition of facts, the +solving of mathematical problems, or conning of parts of speech. Beside +her was always an open book, it might be a passage of Scripture, a scene +from Shakespeare, a poem or paragraph rich in the wisdom and beauty of +some great mind; and as she sewed she dwelt upon it, repeating it to +herself until she was word-perfect in it, then making it even more her +own by earnest contemplation. These passages became the texts of many +observations; and in them was also the light which showed her life as it +is, and as it should be lived. In meditating upon them she taught +herself to meditate; and in following up the clues they gave her in the +endeavour to discriminate and to judge fairly, by slow degrees she +acquired the precious habit of clear thought. This lifted her at once +above herself as she had been; and what she had lost of insight and +spiritual perception since her marriage, she began to recover in another +and more perfect form. Wholesome consideration of the realities of life +now took the place of fanciful dreams. Her mind, wonderfully fertilised, +teemed again—not with vain imaginings, however, as heretofore, but with +something more substantial. Purposeful thought was where the mere froth +of sensuous seeing had been; and it was thought that now clamoured for +expression instead of the verses and stories—fireworks of the brain, +pleasant, transient, futile distractions with nothing more nourishing in +them than the interest and entertainment of the moment—which had +occupied her chiefly from of old. It was natural to Beth to be open, to +discuss all that concerned herself with her friends; but having no one +to talk to now, she began on a sudden to record her thoughts +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[Pg 358]</a></span> and +impressions in writing; and having once begun, she entered upon a new +phase of existence altogether. She had discovered a recreation which was +more absorbing than anything she had ever tried before; for her early +scribbling had been of another kind, not nearly so entrancing. Then it +had been the idle gossip of life, and the mere pictorial art of +word-painting, an ingenious exercise, that had occupied her; now it was +the more soul-stirring themes in the region of philosophy and ethics +which she pursued, and scenes and phases of life interested her only as +the raw material from which a goodly moral might be extracted. Art for +art's sake she despised, but in art for man's sake she already +discovered noble possibilities. But her very delight in her new pursuit +made her think it right to limit her indulgence in it. Duty she +conceived to be a painful effort necessarily, but writing was a +pleasure; she therefore attended first conscientiously to her +embroidery, and any other task she thought it right to perform, although +her eager impatience to get back to her desk made each in turn a toil to +her. Like many another earnest person, she mistook the things of no +importance for things that matter because the doing of them cost her +much; and it was the intellectual exercise, the delicate fancy work of +her brain, a matter of enormous consequence, that she neglected. Not +knowing that "<i>If a man love the labour of any trade, apart from any +question of success or fame, the gods have called him</i>," she made the +fitting of herself for the work of her life her last exercise at the +tired end of the day. She rose early and went to bed late in order to +gain a little more time to write, but never suspected that her delight +in the effort to find expression for what was in her mind of itself +proclaimed her one of the elect.</p> + +<p>When she had finished her embroidery, she despatched it secretly to the +depôt in London; but then she found that she would have to pay a small +subscription before she could have it sold there, and she had no money. +She wrote boldly to the secretary and told her so, and asked if the +subscription could not be paid out of the price she got for her work. +The secretary replied that it was contrary to the rules, but the +committee thought that such an artistically beautiful design as hers was +sure to be snapped up directly, and they had therefore decided to make +an exception in her case.</p> + +<p>While these letters were going backwards and forwards, Beth suffered +agonies of anxiety lest Dan should pounce upon them and discover her +secret; but he happened to be out always at post-time just then, so she +managed to secure them safely.</p> + +<p>As she had no money, she could not buy any more materials for +embroidery, so she was obliged to take a holiday, the greater +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[Pg 359]</a></span> part of +which she spent in writing. She was deeply engrossed by thoughts on +progress, which had been suggested by a passage in one of Emerson's +essays: "<i>All conservatives are such from natural defects. They have +been effeminated by position or nature, born halt and blind, through +luxury of their parents, and can only, like invalids, act on the +defensive.</i>" Even in her own little life Beth had seen so much of the +ill effects of conservatism in the class to which she belonged, and had +suffered so much from it herself already, that the subject appealed to +her strongly, and she pursued it with enthusiasm—more from the social +than the political point of view, however. But, unfortunately, in all +too short a time, her holiday came to an end. Her beautiful embroidery +had sold for six guineas, and she found herself with the money for more +materials, and three pounds in hand besides, clear profit, towards the +debt. She had also received an order from the depôt for another piece of +work at the same price, which caused her considerable elation, and set +her to work again with a will; and it was only when she could no longer +ply her needle that she allowed herself to take up her pen.</p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXXIX"></a>CHAPTER XXXIX</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beth</span> had no more zest for the ball after +that conversation with Daniel +about the money her mother had given him. She felt obliged to go to it +because he insisted that it was necessary for the wives of professional +men to show themselves on public occasions; but she would not get a new +dress. She had never worn her white silk trimmed with myrtle, and when +she came to look at it again, she decided that it was not so much out of +the fashion after all, and, at any rate, it must do.</p> + +<p>When she came down to dinner dressed in it on the night of the ball, she +looked very winsome, and smiled up at Dan in shy expectation of a word +of approval; but none came. In the early days of their acquaintance he +had remarked that she was much more easily depressed than elated about +herself, and would be the better of a little more confidence—not to say +conceit; but since their marriage he had never given her the slightest +sympathy or encouragement to cure her of her diffidence. If anything +were amiss in her dress or appearance, he told her of it in the +offensive manner of an ill-conditioned under-bred man, generally +speaking when they were out of doors, or in some house where she could +do nothing to put herself right, as if it were some satisfaction to him +to make her feel ill at ease; and if she were complimented by any one +else about anything, he had usually something +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[Pg 360]</a></span> + derogatory to say on the +subject afterwards. Now, when he had inspected her, he sat down to table +without a word.</p> + +<p>"Is there anything wrong?" Beth asked anxiously.</p> + +<p>"No," he answered. "That stuff on your sleeves might have been fresher, +that's all."</p> + +<p>"This will be my first ball," Beth ventured, breaking a long silence.</p> + +<p>"Well, don't go and tell everybody," he rejoined. "They'll think you +want to make yourself interesting, and it's nothing to boast about. Just +lay yourself out to be agreeable to people who will further your +husband's interests, for once."</p> + +<p>"But am I not always agreeable?" Beth exclaimed, much mortified.</p> + +<p>"It doesn't appear so," he answered drily. "At any rate, you don't seem +to go down here."</p> + +<p>"How do you mean?" Beth asked.</p> + +<p>"Why, the ladies in the place all seem to shun you, for some reason or +other; not one of them ever comes near you in a friendly way."</p> + +<p>"They were all very nice to me the other day at Beg," Beth protested, +her heart sinking at this recurrence of the old reproach; for to be +shunned, or in any way set apart, seemed even more dreadful to her now +than it had done when she was a child.</p> + +<p>"See that they keep it up then," he answered grimly.</p> + +<p>"If it depends upon me, they will," said Beth, setting her sensitive +mouth in a hard determined line that added ten years to her age and did +not improve her beauty. And it was with a sad heart, and sorely +dissatisfied with herself, that she drove to her first ball.</p> + +<p>When they entered the ball-room, however, and Dan beamed about him on +every one in his "thoroughly good fellow" way, her spirits rose. The +decorations, the handsome uniforms, the brilliant dresses and jewels, +the flowers and foliage plants, and, above all, the bright dance-music +and festive faces, delighted her, and she gazed about her with lips just +parted in a little smile, wondering to find it all so gay.</p> + +<p>A young military man was brought up to her and introduced by one of the +stewards before she had been five minutes in the room. He asked for the +pleasure of a dance; but, alas! thanks to the scheme of education at the +Royal Service School for Officers' Daughters having been designed by the +authorities to fit the girls for the next world only, Beth could not +dance. She had had some lessons at Miss Blackburne's, but not enough to +give her confidence, so she was obliged to decline. Another and another +would-be partner, and some quite important people, as Dan said, offered, +but in vain; and he looked furious. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[Pg 361]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well," he exclaimed, "this is nice for me!"</p> + +<p>"I am sorry," Beth answered nervously. She was beginning to have a +painful conviction that a man had to depend almost entirely on his wife +for his success in life, and the responsibility made her quail.</p> + +<p>"I shall have to go and do <i>my</i> duty, at any rate," he proceeded. "I +must leave you alone."</p> + +<p>"Yes, do," said Beth. "Mrs. Kilroy and Mrs. Orton Beg have just come in; +I will go and join them." She naturally expected Dan to escort her, and +he probably would have done so had he waited to hear what she was +saying; but his marital manners were such that he had taken himself off +while she was speaking, and left her to fend for herself. She was too +glad, however, to see her charming new acquaintances, who had been so +kindly, to care much, and she crossed the room to them, smiling +confidently. As she approached, she saw that they recognised her and +said something to each other. When she came close, they both bowed +coldly, and turned their heads in the opposite direction.</p> + +<p>Beth stopped short and her heart stood still. The slight was +unmistakable; but what had she done? She looked about her as if for an +explanation, and saw Lady Beg close beside her, talking to Mrs. Carne.</p> + +<p>"Ah, how do you do? Nice ball, isn't it?" Lady Beg observed, but without +shaking hands.</p> + +<p>"How do you do?" said Mrs. Carne, and then they resumed their +conversation, taking no further notice of Beth, who would probably have +turned and fled from the dreadful place incontinently, if Mrs. Petterick +had not come up at that moment and spoken to her as one human being to +another, seizing upon Beth as Beth might have seized upon her, in +despair; for Mrs. Petterick had also been having her share of snubs. Oh, +those Christians! how they do love one another! how tender they are to +one another's feelings! how careful to make the best of one another! how +gentle, good, and kind, and true! How singular it is that when the +wicked unbeliever comes to live amongst them, and sees them as they are, +he is not immediately moved by admiration to adopt their religion in +order that he also may acquire the noble attributes so conspicuously +displayed by them!</p> + +<p>"You're not dancing, my dear," Mrs. Petterick said. "Come along and sit +with me on that couch against the wall yonder. We shall see all that's +going on from there."</p> + +<p>Beth was only too thankful to go. A waltz was being played, and Dan +passed them, dancing with Bertha Petterick. They glided over the floor +together with the gentle voluptuous swing, dreamy eyes, and smiling lips +of two perfect dancers, conscious +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[Pg 362]</a></span> + of nothing but the sensuous delight +of interwoven paces and clasping arms.</p> + +<p>"My! but they do step well together, him and Bertha!" Mrs. Petterick +exclaimed. "He's a handsome man, your husband, and a gay one—flirting +about with all the ladies! I wonder you're not jealous!"</p> + +<p>"Jealous!" Beth answered, smiling. "Not I, indeed! Jealousy is a want of +faith in one's self."</p> + +<p>"Well, my dear, if you always looked as well as you do just now, you +need not want confidence in yourself," Mrs. Petterick observed. "But +what would you do if your husband gave you cause for jealousy?"</p> + +<p>"Despise him," Beth answered promptly.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Petterick looked as if she could make nothing of this answer. Then +she became uneasy. The music had stopped, but Bertha had not returned to +her. "I must go and look after my daughter," she said, rising from her +comfortable seat with a sigh. "Gels are a nuisance. You've got to keep +your eye on them all the time, or you never know what they're up to."</p> + +<p>Beth stayed where she was, and soon began to feel uncomfortable. People +stared coldly at her as they passed, and she could not help fancying +herself the subject of unpleasant remark because she was alone. She +prayed hard that some one would come and speak to her. Dan had +disappeared. After a time she recognised Sir George Galbraith among the +groups of people at the opposite side of the room. He was receiving that +attention from every one which is so generously conferred on a man or +woman of consequence, whose acquaintance adds to people's own +importance, and to whom it is therefore well to be seen speaking; but +although his manner was courteously attentive he looked round as if +anxious to make his escape, and finally, to Beth's intense relief, he +recognised her, and, leaving the group about him unceremoniously, came +across the room to speak to her.</p> + +<p>"Would it be fair to ask you to sit out a dance with me?" he said. "I do +not dance."</p> + +<p>"I would rather sit out a dance with you than dance it with any one else +I know here," she answered naïvely; "but, as it happens, I do not dance +either."</p> + +<p>"Indeed! How is that? I should have thought you would like dancing."</p> + +<p>"So I should, I am sure, if I could," she replied. "But I can't dance at +all. They would not let me learn dancing at one school where I was, and +I was not long enough at the other to learn properly."</p> + +<p>"Now, that is a pity," he said, considering Beth, his professional eye +having been struck by her thinness and languor. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[Pg 363]</a></span> "But have some lessons. +Dancing in moderation is capital exercise, and it exhilarates; and +anything that exhilarates increases one's vitality. Why don't you make +your husband teach you? He seems to know all about it."</p> + +<p>"Yes," Beth answered, smiling; "but I shouldn't think teaching me is at +all in his line. Why don't you dance yourself?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am far too clumsy," he said good-naturedly. "My wife says if I +could even learn to move about a room without getting in the way and +upsetting things, it would be something."</p> + +<p>"Is she here to-night?" Beth asked.</p> + +<p>"No, she was not feeling up to it," he answered. "She tired herself in +the garden this afternoon, helping me to bud roses."</p> + +<p>"Oh, can you bud roses?" Beth exclaimed. "I should so like to know how +it is done."</p> + +<p>"I'll show you with pleasure."</p> + +<p>"Will you really?" said Beth. "How kind of you."</p> + +<p>"Not at all. Let me see, when will you be at home? We mustn't lose any +time, or it will be too late in the year."</p> + +<p>"I'm pretty nearly always at home," Beth said.</p> + +<p>"Then if I came to-morrow morning would that be convenient?"</p> + +<p>"Quite; and I hope you will stay lunch," Beth answered.</p> + +<p>Dan returned to the ball-room just then, and, on seeing who was with +her, he immediately joined them; but Sir George only stayed long enough +to exchange greetings politely.</p> + +<p>"You seem to get on very well with Galbraith," Dan observed.</p> + +<p>"Don't you like him?" Beth asked in surprise, detecting a note of enmity +in his voice.</p> + +<p>"I haven't had much chance," he said bitterly. "He doesn't play the +agreeable to me as he does to you."</p> + +<p>Beth missed the drift of this remark in considering the expression "play +the agreeable," which was unpleasantly suggestive to her of under-bred +gentility.</p> + +<p>"You will be able to give him an opportunity to-morrow then," she said, +"if you are in at lunch-time, for he is coming to show me how to bud +roses, and I have asked him to stay."</p> + +<p>"Have you, indeed?" Dan exclaimed, obviously displeased, but why or +wherefore Beth could not conceive. "I hope to goodness there's something +to eat in the house," he added upon reflection, fussily.</p> + +<p>"There is as much as there always is," Beth placidly rejoined.</p> + +<p>"Well, that's not enough then. Just think what a man like that has on +his own table!"</p> + +<p>"A man like that won't expect our table to be like his."</p> + +<p>"You'd better make it appear so for once then, or you'll be having our +hospitality criticised as I heard the Barrack fellows +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[Pg 364]</a></span> criticise Mrs. +Jeffery's the other day. A couple of them called about lunch-time, and +she asked them to stay, and they said there was nothing but beer and +sherry, and the fragments of a previous feast, and they were blessed if +they'd go near the old trout again."</p> + +<p>"An elegant expression!" said Beth. "It gives the measure of the mind it +comes from. Please don't introduce the person who uses it to me. But as +to Sir George Galbraith, you need not be afraid that <i>he</i> will accept +hospitality and criticise it in that spirit. He will neither grumble at +a cutlet, nor describe his hostess by a vulgar epithet after eating it."</p> + +<p>She shut her mouth hard after speaking. Disillusion is a great +enlightener; our insight is never so clear as when it is turned on the +character of a person in whom we used to believe; and as Dan gradually +revealed himself to Beth, trait by trait, a kind of distaste seized upon +her, a want of respect, which found involuntary expression in trenchant +comments upon his observations and in smart retorts. She did not seek +sympathy from him now for the way in which she had been slighted at the +ball, knowing perfectly well that he was more likely to blame her than +anybody else. He had, in fact, by this time, so far as any confidence +she might have reposed in him was concerned, dropped out of her life +completely, and left her as friendless and as much alone as she would +have been with the veriest stranger.</p> + +<p>That night when she went home she felt world-worn and weary, but next +morning, out in the garden with Sir George Galbraith budding roses, she +became young again. Before they had been together half-an-hour she was +chatting to him with girlish confidence, telling him about her attempts +to cultivate her mind, her reading and writing, to all of which he +listened without any of that condescension in his manner which Dan +displayed when perchance he was in a good-humour and Beth had ventured +to expand. Sir George was genuinely interested.</p> + +<p>Dan came in punctually to lunch, for a wonder. He glanced at Beth's +animated face sharply when he entered, but took no further notice of +her. He was one of those husbands who have two manners, a coarse one for +their families, and another, much more polished, which they assume when +it is politic to be refined. But Dan's best behaviour sat ill upon him, +because it was lacking in sincerity, and Beth suffered all through lunch +because of the obsequious pose he thought it proper to assume towards +his distinguished guest.</p> + +<p>After lunch, when Sir George had gone, he took up his favourite position +before the mirror over the chimney-piece, and stood there for a little, +looking at himself and caressing his moustache. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[Pg 365]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You talk a great deal too much, Beth," he said at last.</p> + +<p>"Do you think so?" she rejoined.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do," he assured her. "Of course Galbraith had to be polite and +affect to listen, but I could see that he was bored by your chatter. He +naturally wanted to talk to me about things that interest men."</p> + +<p>"Then why on earth didn't he talk to you?" Beth asked.</p> + +<p>"How could he when you monopolised the conversation?"</p> + +<p>"It was he who kept me talking," she protested.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes; I notice you are very animated when anything in the shape of a +man comes in," Dan sneered.</p> + +<p>Beth got up and left the room, less affected by the insinuation, +however, than by the vulgar expression of it.</p> + +<p>The following week Sir George came in one morning with some cuttings, +and stayed a while in the garden with Beth, showing her how to set them; +but he would not wait for lunch. Dan showed considerable annoyance when +he heard of the visit.</p> + +<p>"He should come when I am at home," he said. "It is damned bad taste his +coming when you are alone."</p> + +<p>The next time Sir George came Dan happened to be in, to Beth's relief. +She had brought her writing down that day, and was working at it on the +dining-room table, not expecting Dan till much later. He was in a genial +mood, for a wonder.</p> + +<p>"What on earth are you scribbling about there?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Just something I was thinking about," Beth answered evasively.</p> + +<p>"Going in for authorship, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Why not?" said Beth.</p> + +<p>Dan laughed. "You are not at all ambitious," he remarked; then added +patronisingly, "A little of that kind of thing will do you no harm, of +course; but, my dear child, your head wouldn't contain a book, and if +you were just a little cleverer you would know that yourself."</p> + +<p>Beth bit the end of her pencil and looked at him dispassionately, and it +was at this moment that Sir George Galbraith was announced.</p> + +<p>Dan received him with effusion as usual; and also, as usual, Sir George +responded with all conventional politeness, but the greeting over, he +turned his attention to Beth. He had brought her a packet of books.</p> + +<p>"This looks like work in earnest," he said, glancing at the table. "I +see you have a good deal of something done. Is it nearly finished?"</p> + +<p>"All but," Beth rejoined.</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do with it?" +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[Pg 366]</a></span></p> + +<p>Beth looked at him, and then at her manuscript vaguely. "I don't know," +she said. "What can I do with it?"</p> + +<p>"Publish it, if it is good," he answered.</p> + +<p>"But how am I to know?" Beth asked eagerly. "Do you think it possible I +could do anything fit to publish?"</p> + +<p>Before he could reply, Dan chimed in. "I've just been telling her," he +said, "that little heads like hers can't contain books. It's all very +well to scribble a little for pastime, and all that, but she mustn't +seriously imagine she can do that sort of work. She'll only do herself +harm. Literature is men's work."</p> + +<p>"Yet how many women have written, and written well, too," Beth observed.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, of course—exceptional women."</p> + +<p>"And why mayn't I be an exceptional woman?" Beth asked, smiling.</p> + +<p>"Coarse and masculine!" Dan exclaimed. "No, thank you. We don't want you +to be one of that kind—do we, Galbraith?"</p> + +<p>"There is not the slightest fear," Sir George answered dryly. "Besides, +I don't think any class of women workers—not even the pit-brow +women—are necessarily coarse and masculine. And I differ from you, too, +with regard to that head," he added, fixing his keen, kindly eyes +deliberately on Beth's cranium till she laughed to cover her +embarrassment, and put up both hands to feel it. "I should say there was +good promise both of sense and capacity in the size and balance of +it—not to mention anything else."</p> + +<p>"Well, you ought to know if anybody does," said Dan with a facetious +sort of affectation of agreement, which left no doubt of his +insincerity.</p> + +<p>"I wish," Sir George continued, addressing Beth, "you would let me show +some of your work to a lady, a friend of mine, whose opinion is well +worth having."</p> + +<p>"I would rather have yours," Beth jerked out.</p> + +<p>"Oh, mine is no good," he rejoined. "But if you will let me read what +you give me to show my lady, I should be greatly interested. We were +talking about style in prose the other day, and I have ventured to bring +you these books—some of our own stylists, and some modern Frenchmen. +You read French, I know."</p> + +<p>"There is nothing like the French," Dan chimed in. "We have no +literature at all now. Look at their work compared to ours, how short, +crisp, and incisive it is! How true to life! A Frenchman will give you +more real life in a hundred pages than our men do in all their +interminable volumes."</p> + +<p>"More sexuality, you mean, I suppose," said Galbraith, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[Pg 367]</a></span> "Personally I +find them monotonous, and barren of happy phrases to enrich the mind, of +noble sentiments to expand the heart, of great thoughts to help the +soul; without balance, with little of the redeeming side of life, and +less aspiration towards it. If France is to be judged by the tendency of +its literature and art at present, one would suppose it to be dominated +and doomed to destruction by a gang of lascivious authors and artists +who are sapping the manhood of the country and degrading the womanhood +by idealising self-indulgence and mean intrigue. The man or woman who +lives low, or even thinks low, in that sense of the word, will tend +always to descend still lower in times of trial. Moral probity is the +backbone of our courage; without it we have nothing to support us when a +call is made upon our strength." +<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></p> + +<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> The truth of this assertion was lately proved in a terrible +manner at the burning of the Charity Bazaar in the Rue Jean Goujon, when +the nerves of the luxurious gentlemen present, debilitated by close +intimacy with the <i>haute cocotterie</i> in and out of society, betrayed +them, and they displayed the white feather of vice by fighting their own +way out, not only leaving the ladies to their fate, but actually beating +them back with their sticks and trampling on them in their frantic +efforts to save themselves, as many a bruised white arm or shoulder +afterwards testified. There was scarcely a man burnt on the occasion, +husbands, lovers, and fathers escaped, leaving all the heroic deeds to +be done by some few devoted men-servants, some workmen who happened to +be passing, a stray Englishman or American, and mothers who perished in +attempting to rescue their children.</p></div> + +<p>"I can't stand English authors myself," was Dan's reply. "They're so +devilish long-winded, don't you know."</p> + +<p>"Poverty of mind accounts for the shortness of the book as a rule," said +Galbraith. "I like a long book myself when it is rich in thought. The +characters become companions then, and I miss them when we are forced to +part."</p> + +<p>Beth nodded assent to this. She had been turning over the books that +Galbraith had brought her, with the tender touch of a true book-lover +and that evident interest and pleasure which goes far beyond thanks. +Mere formal thanks she forgot to express, but she had brightened up in +the most wonderful way since Galbraith appeared, and was all smiles when +he took his leave.</p> + +<p>Not so Dan, however; but Beth was too absorbed in the books to notice +that.</p> + +<p>"How kind he is!" she exclaimed. "Dan, won't it be delightful if I +really can write? I might make a career for myself."</p> + +<p>"Rot!" said Dan.</p> + +<p>"Sir George differs from you," Beth rejoined.</p> + +<p>"I say that's all rot. What does he know about it? I tell you you're a +silly fool, and your head wouldn't contain a book. I ought to know!"</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[Pg 368]</a></span></p> +<p>"Doctors differ again, then, it seems," Beth said. "But in this case +the patient is going to decide for herself. What is the use of opinion +in such matters? One must experiment. I'm going to write, and if at +first I don't succeed—I shall persevere."</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course!" Dan sneered. "You'll take anybody's advice but your +husband's. However, go your own way, as I know you will. Only, I warn +you, you'll regret it."</p> + +<p>Beth was dipping into one of the books, and took no notice of this. +Dan's ill-humour augmented.</p> + +<p>"Did you know the fellow was coming to-day?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"No—if by fellow you mean Sir George Galbraith," she answered casually, +still intent on the book.</p> + +<p>"You know well enough who I mean, and that's just a nag," he retorted. +"And it looks uncommonly as if you did expect him, and had set all that +rubbish of writing out to make a display."</p> + +<p>Beth bit the end of her pencil, and looked at Dan contemptuously.</p> + +<p>"I dare say he'd like to get hold of you to make a tool of you," he +pursued. "He's in with Lord Dawne and the whole of that advanced woman's +party at Morne, who are always interfering with everything."</p> + +<p>"How?" Beth asked.</p> + +<p>"By poking their noses into things that don't concern them," he +asseverated, "things they wouldn't know anything about if they weren't +damned nasty-minded. There's that fanatical Lady Fulda Guthrie, and Mrs. +Orton Beg, and Mrs. Kilroy, besides Madam Ideala—they're all +busybodies, and if they succeed in what they're at just now, by Jove, +they'll ruin me! I'll have my revenge, though, if they do! I'll attack +your distinguished friend. He has established himself as a humanitarian, +and travels on that reputation; but he has an hospital of his own, where +I have no doubt some pretty games are played in the way of experiments +which the public don't suspect. <i>I</i> know the kind of thing! Patients +mustn't ask questions! The good doctor will do his best for them—trust +him! He'll try nothing that he doesn't know to be for their good; and +when they're under chloroform he'll take no unfair advantage in the way +of cutting a little more for his own private information than they've +consented to. Oh, I know! Galbraith seems to be by way of slighting me, +but I'll show him up if it comes to that—and, at any rate, I'm on the +way to discoveries myself, and I bet I'll teach him some things in his +profession yet that will make him sit up—things he doesn't suspect, +clever and all as he is."</p> + +<p>Beth knew nothing of the things to which Dan alluded, and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[Pg 369]</a></span> therefore +missed the drift of this tirade; but the whole tone of it was so +offensive to her that she gathered up her books and papers and left the +room. Silence and flight were her weapons of defence in those days.</p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XL" id="CHAPTER_XL"></a>CHAPTER XL</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">There</span> was a gap of six months between that last visit of Sir George +Galbraith's and the next, and in the interval Beth had worked hard, +reading and re-reading the books he had lent her, writing, and perhaps +most important of all, reflecting, as she sat in her secret chamber, +busy with the beautiful embroideries which were to pay off that dreadful +debt. She had made seven pounds by this time, and Aunt Grace Mary had +sent her five for a present surreptitiously, advising her to keep it +herself and say nothing about it—Aunt Grace Mary knew what husbands +were. Beth smiled as she read the letter. She, too, was beginning to +know what husbands are—husbands of the Uncle James kind. She added the +five pounds to her secret hoard, and thanked goodness that the sum was +mounting up, little by little.</p> + +<p>But she wished Sir George would return. He was a busy man, and lived at +the other side of the county, so that she could not expect him to come +to Slane on her account; but surely something more important would bring +him eventually, and then she might hope to see him. She knew he would +not desert her. And she had some manuscript ready to confide to him now +if he should repeat his offer; but she was too diffident to send it to +him except at his special request.</p> + +<p>She was all energy now that the possibility of making a career for +herself had been presented to her, but it was the quietly restrained +energy of a strong nature. She never supposed that she could practise a +profession without learning it, and she was prepared to serve a long +apprenticeship to letters if necessary. She meant to write and write and +write until she acquired power of expression. About what she should have +to express she never troubled herself. It was the need to express what +was in her that had set her to work. She would never have to sit at a +writing-table with a pen in her hand waiting for ideas to come. She had +discovered by accident that she could have books in plenty, and of the +kind she required, from the Free Library at Slane. Dan never troubled +himself to consult her taste in books, but he was in the habit of +bringing home three-volume novels for himself from the library, a form +of literature he greatly enjoyed in spite of his strictures. He made +Beth read them aloud to him in the evening, one after the other—an +endless +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[Pg 370]</a></span> + succession—while he smoked, and drank whiskies-and-sodas. He +brought them home himself at first, but soon found it a trouble to go +for them, and so sent her; and then it was she discovered that there +were other books in the library. The librarian, an educated and +intelligent man, helped her often in the choice of books. They had long +talks together, during which he made many suggestions, and gave Beth +many a hint and piece of information that was of value to her. He was +her only congenial friend in Slane, and her long conversations with him +often took her out of herself and raised her spirits. He little +suspected what a help he was to the lonely little soul. For the most +part she took less interest in the books themselves than in the people +who wrote them; biographies, autobiographies, and any scrap of anecdote +about authors and their methods she eagerly devoured. Life as they had +lived it, not as they had observed and imagined it, seemed all-important +to her; and as she read and thought, sitting alone in the charmed +solitude of her secret chamber, her self-respect grew. Her mind, which +had run riot, fancy-fed with languorous dreams in the days when it was +unoccupied and undisciplined, came steadily more and more under control, +and grew gradually stronger as she exercised it. She ceased to rage and +worry about her domestic difficulties, ceased to expect her husband to +add to her happiness in any way, ceased to sorrow for the slights and +neglects that had so wounded and perplexed her during the first year of +her life in Slane; and learnt by degrees to possess her soul in +dignified silence so long as silence was best, feeling in herself <i>that</i> +something which should bring her up out of all this and set her apart +eventually in another sphere, among the elect—feeling this through her +further faculty to her comfort, although unable as yet to give it any +sort of definite expression. As she read of those who had gone before, +she felt a strange kindred with them; she entered into their sorrows, +understood their difficulties, was uplifted by their aspirations, and +gloried in their successes. Their greatness never disheartened her; on +the contrary, she was at home with them in all their experiences, and at +her ease as she never was with the petty people about her. It delighted +her when she found in them some small trait or habit which she herself +had already developed or contracted, such as she found in the early part +of George Sand's <i>Histoire de ma Vie</i>, and in the lives of the Brontës. +Under the influence of nourishing books, her mind, sustained and +stimulated, became nervously active. It had a trick of flashing off from +the subject she was studying to something wholly irrelevant. She would +begin Emerson's essay on <i>Fate</i> or <i>Beauty</i> with enthusiasm, and +presently, with her eyes still following the lines, her thoughts would +be busy +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[Pg 371]</a></span> + forming a code of literary principles for herself. In those +days her mind was continually under the influence of any author she +cared about, particularly if his style were mannered. Involuntarily, +while she was reading Macaulay, for instance, her own thoughts took a +dogmatic turn, and jerked along in short, sharp sentences. She caught +the peculiarities of De Quincey too, of Carlyle, and also some of the +simple dignity of Ruskin, which was not so easy; and she had written +things after the manner of each of these authors before she perceived +the effect they were having upon her. But it was unfortunate for her +that her attention had been turned from the matter which she had to +express to the manner in which she should express it. From the time she +began to think of the style and diction of prose as something to be +separately acquired, the spontaneous flow of her thoughts was checked +and hampered, and she expended herself in fashioning her tools, as it +were, instead of using her tools to fashion her work. When, in her +reading, she came under the influence of academic minds, she lost all +natural freshness, and succeeded in being artificial. Her English became +turgid with Latinities. She took phrases which had flowed from her pen, +and were telling in their simple eloquence, and toiled at them, turning +and twisting them until she had laboured all the life out of them; and +then, mistaking effort for power, and having wearied herself, she was +satisfied. Being too diffident to suspect that she had any natural +faculty, she conceived that the more trouble she gave herself the better +must be the result; and consequently she did nothing worth the doing +except as an exercise of ingenuity. She was serving her apprenticeship, +however—making her mistakes.</p> + +<p>It was late in the autumn before she saw her good friend Sir George +Galbraith again. He came on a bright, clear, frosty morning, and found +her out in the garden, pacing up and down briskly, and looking greatly +exhilarated by the freshness. When she saw him coming towards her, she +uttered a little joyful exclamation, and hurried forward to meet him.</p> + +<p>"I have been longing to see you," she said in her unaffected way; "but I +know what the distance is, and how fully your time is occupied. It is +very good of you to come at all."</p> + +<p>"Only the time and distance have prevented me coming sooner," he +rejoined. "But, tell me, how have you been getting on? And have you +thought any more of making a career for yourself?"</p> + +<p>"I have thought of nothing else," Beth answered brightly; "and I wonder +I ever thought of anything else, for the idea has been in me, I believe, +all my life. I must have discussed it, too, at a very early age, for I +have remembered lately that I was +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[Pg 372]</a></span> + once advised by an old aunt of mine, +the best and dearest friend I ever had, to write only that which is—or +aims at being—soul-sustaining."</p> + +<p>He nodded his head approvingly. "From such seed a good crop should +come," he said. "But what line shall you take?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know."</p> + +<p>"Not novels then, for certain?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing for certain—whatever comes and calls for expression."</p> + +<p>They were pacing up and down together, and there was a pause.</p> + +<p>"Did you expect I should try to write novels, and do you think I ought?" +Beth asked at last.</p> + +<p>"I think I did expect it," he answered; "but as to whether you ought or +ought not, that is for you to decide. There is much to be said against +novel reading and writing. I think it was De Quincey who said that +novels are the opium of the West; and I have myself observed that +novel-reading is one of those bad habits that grow upon people until +they are enslaved by it, demoralised by it; and if that is the case with +the reader, what must the writer suffer?"</p> + +<p>Beth bent her brows upon this. "But that is only one side of it, is it +not?" she asked after a moment's reflection. "I notice in all things a +curious duality, a right side and a wrong side. Confusion is the wrong +side of order, misery of happiness, falsehood of truth, evil of good; +and it seems to me that novel-reading, which can be a vice, I know, may +also be made a virtue. It depends on the writer."</p> + +<p>"And on the taste of the reader," he suggested. "But I believe the taste +of the intelligent 'general reader' is much better than one supposes. +The mind craves for nourishment; and the extraordinary success of books +in which any attempt, however imperfect, is made to provide food for +thought, as distinguished from those which merely offer matter to +distract the attention, bears witness, it seems to me, to the +involuntary effort which is always in progress to procure it. I believe +myself that good fiction may do more to improve the mind, enlarge the +sympathies, and develop the judgment than any other form of +literature—partly because it looks into the hidden springs of action, +and makes all that is obscure in the way of impulse and motive clear to +us. Biography, for instance, merely skims the surface of life, as a +rule; and in history, where man is a puppet moved by events, there can +be very little human nature."</p> + +<p>"I wonder if you read many novels," said Beth. "I have to read them +aloud to my husband until I am satiated. And I am determined, if I ever +do try to write one, to avoid all that is +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[Pg 373]</a></span> + conventional. I never will +have a faultlessly beautiful heroine, for instance. I am sick of that +creature. When I come to her, especially if she has golden hair yards +long, a faultless complexion, and eyes of extraordinary dimensions, I +feel inclined to groan and shut the book. I have met her so often in the +weary ways of fiction! I know every variety of her so well! She consists +of nothing but superlatives, and is as conventional as the torso of an +Egyptian statue, with her everlasting physical perfection. I think her +as repulsive as a barber's block. I confess that a woman who has golden +hair and manages to look like a lady, or to be like one even in a book, +is a wonder, considering all that is associated with golden hair in our +day; but I should avoid the abnormal as much as the conventional. I +would not write plotty-plotty books either, nor make a pivot of the +everlasting love-story, which seems to me to show such a want of balance +in an author, such an absence of any true sense of proportion, as if +there was nothing else of interest in life but our sexual relations. +But, oh!" she broke off, "how I do appreciate what the difficulty of +selection must be! In writing a life, if one could present all sides of +it, and not merely one phase—the good and the bad of it, the joys and +the sorrows, the moments of strength and of weakness, of wisdom and of +folly, of misery and of pure delight—what a picture!"</p> + +<p>"Yes; and how utterly beyond the average reader, who never understands +complexity," he answered. "But I think it a good sign for your chances +of success that you should have complained of the difficulty of +selection in the matter of material rather than bemoan your want of +experience of life. Most young aspirants to literary fame grumble that +they are handicapped for want of experience. They are seldom content +with the material they have at hand—the life they know. They want to go +and live in London, where they seem to think that every one worth +knowing is to be found."</p> + +<p>"That isn't my feeling at all," said Beth. "The best people may be met +in London, but I don't believe that they are at their best. The friction +of the crowd rubs out their individuality. In a crowd I feel mentally as +if I were in a maze of telegraph wires. The thoughts of so many people +streaming out in all directions about me entangle and bewilder me."</p> + +<p>"You do not seem to like anything exceptional."</p> + +<p>"No, I do not," said Beth. "I like the normal—the everyday. Great +events are not the most significant, nor are great people the most +typical. It is the little things that make life livable. The person who +comes and talks clever is not the person we love, nor the person who +interests us most. Those we love sympathise with us in the ordinary +everyday incidents of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[Pg 374]</a></span> + our lives, and discuss them with us, merely +touching, if at all, on the thoughts they engender. I don't want to know +what people think as a rule; I want to know what they have experienced. +People who talk facts, I like; people who talk theories, I fly from. And +I think upon the whole that I shall always like the kind people better +than the clever ones. I believe we owe more to them, too, and learn more +from them—more human nature, which after all is what we want to know."</p> + +<p>"But the clever people are kind also sometimes," said Sir George.</p> + +<p>"When they are, of course it is perfect," Beth answered. "But judging +the clever ones of to-day by what they write, I cannot often think them +so. The works of our smartest modern writers, particularly the French, +satiate me with their cleverness; but they are vain, hollow, cynical, +dyspeptic; they appeal to the head, but the heart goes empty away. Few +of them know or show the one thing needful—that happiness is the end of +life; and that by trying to live rightly we help each other to +happiness. That is the one thing well worth understanding in this world; +but that, with all their ingenuity, they are not intelligent enough to +see."</p> + +<p>"You are an optimist, I perceive," Sir George said, smiling, "and I +entirely agree with you. So long as we understand that happiness is the +end of life, and that the best way to secure it for ourselves is by +helping others to attain to it, we are travelling in the right +direction. By happiness I do not mean excitement, of course, nor the +pleasure we owe to others altogether; but that quiet content in +ourselves, that large toleration and love which should overflow from us +continually, and make the fact of our existence a source of joy and +strength to all who know us."</p> + +<p>They walked up and down a little in silence, then Sir George asked her +what she thought of some of the specimens of style and art in literature +he had lent her to study.</p> + +<p>"I don't know yet," Beth said. "My mind is in a state of chaos on the +subject. I seem to reject 'style' and 'art.' I ask for something more or +something else, and am never satisfied. But tell me what you think of +the stylists."</p> + +<p>"I think them brilliant," he rejoined, "but their work is as the +photograph is to the painting, the lifeless accuracy of the machine to +the nervous fascinating faultiness of the human hand. No, I don't care +for the writers who are specially praised for their style. I find their +productions cold and bald as a rule. I want something warmer—more +full-blooded. Most of the stylists write as if they began by acquiring a +style and then had to sit and wait for a subject. I believe style is the +enemy of matter. You compress all the blood out of your subject when +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[Pg 375]</a></span> +you make it conform to a studied style, instead of letting your style +form itself out of the necessity for expression. This is rank heresy, I +know, and I should not have ventured on it a few years ago; but now, I +say, give me a style that is the natural outcome of your subject, your +mind, your character, not an artificial but a natural product; and even +though it be as full of faults as human nature is, faults of every kind, +so long as there is no fault of the heart in it, that being the one +unpardonable fault in an author—if you have put your own individuality +into your work—I'll answer for it that you will arrive sooner and be +read longer than the most admired stylist of the day. Be prepared to +sacrifice form to accuracy, to avoid the brilliant and the marvellous +for the simple and direct. What matters it how the effect is got so that +it comes honestly? But of course it will be said that this, that, and +the other person did not get their effects so; they will compare you to +the greatest to humiliate you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that would be nothing to me so that I produced my own effects," +Beth broke in. "That is just where I am at present. I mean to be myself. +But please do not think that I have too much assurance. If I go wrong, I +hope I shall find it out in time; and I shall certainly be the first to +acknowledge it. I do not want to prove myself right; I want to arrive at +the truth."</p> + +<p>"Then you will arrive," he assured her. "But above everything, mind that +you are not misled by the cant of art if you have anything special to +say. If a writer would be of use in his day, and not merely an amuser of +the multitude, he must learn that right thinking, right feeling, and +knowledge are more important than art. When you address the blockhead +majority, you must not only give them your text, you must tell them also +what to think of it, otherwise there will be fine misinterpretation. You +may be sure of the heart of the multitude if you can touch it; but its +head, in the present state of its development, is an imperfect machine, +manœuvred for the most part by foolishness. People can see life for +themselves, but they cannot always see the meaning of it, the why and +wherefore, whence things come and whither they are tending, so that the +lessons of life are lost—or would be but for the efforts of the modern +novelist."</p> + +<p>Beth reflected a little, then she said: "I am glad you think me an +optimist. It seems to me that healthy human nature revolts from +pessimism. The work that lasts is the work that cheers. Give us +something with hope in it—something that appeals to the best part of +us—something which, while we read, puts us in touch with fine ideals, +and makes us feel better than we are."</p> + +<p>"That is it precisely," said he. "The school of art-and-style +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">[Pg 376]</a></span> books +wearies us because there is no aspiration in it, nothing but a deadly +dull artistic presentment of hopeless levels of life. It is all cold +polish, as I said before, with never a word to warm the heart or stir +the better nature."</p> + +<p>"That is what I have felt," said Beth; "and I would rather have written +a simple story, full of the faults of my youth and ignorance, but with +some one passage in it that would put heart and hope into some one +person, than all that brilliant barren stuff. And I'm going to write for +women, not for men. I don't care about amusing men. Let them see to +their own amusements, they think of nothing else. Men entertain each +other with intellectual ingenuities and Art and Style, while women are +busy with the great problems of life, and are striving might and main to +make it beautiful."</p> + +<p>"Now that is young in the opprobrious sense of the word," said Sir +George. "It is only when we are extremely young that we indulge in such +sweeping generalisations."</p> + +<p>Beth blushed. "I am always afraid my judgment will be warped by my own +narrow personal experience,—I must guard against that!" she exclaimed, +conscious that she had had her husband in her mind when she spoke.</p> + +<p>Sir George nodded his head approvingly, and looked at his watch. "I must +go," he said, "but I hope there will not be such a long interval before +I come again. My wife is sorry that she has not been able to call. She +is not equal to such a long drive. But she desired me to explain and +apologise; and she has sent you some flowers and fruit which she begs +you will accept. Have you some of your work ready for me this time? I +have asked my friend Ideala to give you her opinion, which is really +worth having, and she says she will with pleasure. You must know her. I +am sure you would like her extremely."</p> + +<p>"But would she like me?" slipped from Beth unawares.</p> + +<p>"Now, that is young again," he said, with his kindly smile-indulgent.</p> + +<p>"It is the outcome of sad experience," Beth rejoined with a sigh. "No +woman I have met here so far has shown any inclination to cultivate my +acquaintance. I think I am being punished for some unknown crime."</p> + +<p>Sir George became thoughtful, but said nothing.</p> + +<p>As they approached the house, Beth saw Dan peeping at them from behind +the curtain of an upstairs window. The hall-table was covered with the +fruit and flowers Sir George had brought. Beth sent a servant for Dan. +The girl came back and said that the doctor was not in.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" said Beth. "I saw him at one of the windows just now. If you +will excuse me, Sir George, I will find him myself." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">[Pg 377]</a></span></p> + +<p>She called him as she ran upstairs, and Dan made his appearance, looking +none too well pleased.</p> + +<p>He went down to Sir George, and Beth ran on up to her secret chamber for +her manuscripts and the books Sir George had lent her, which had been +waiting ready packed for many a day.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>When he had gone, Beth danced round the dining-room, clapping her hands.</p> + +<p>"I can't contain myself," she exclaimed. "I do feel encouraged, +strengthened, uplifted."</p> + +<p>She caught a glimpse of Dan's face, and stopped short.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" she said.</p> + +<p>"The matter is that I'll have no more of this," he answered in a brutal +tone.</p> + +<p>"No more of what?" Beth demanded.</p> + +<p>"No more of this man's philandering after you," he retorted.</p> + +<p>"I don't understand you," Beth gasped.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you're mighty innocent," he sneered. "You'll be telling me next +that he comes to see <i>me</i>, lends <i>me</i> books, walks up and down by the +hour together with <i>me</i>, brings <i>me</i> fruit and flowers! You think I'm +blind, I suppose! <i>You</i>'re a nice person! and so particular too! and so +fastidious in your conversation! Oh, trust a prude! But I tell you," he +bawled, coming up close to her, and shaking his fist in her face, "I +tell you I won't have it. Now, do you understand that?"</p> + +<p>Beth did not wince, but oh, what a drop it was from the heights she had +just left to this low level! "Be good enough to explain your meaning +precisely," she said quietly. "I understand that you are bringing some +accusation against me. It is no use blustering and shaking your fist in +my face. I am not to be frightened. Just explain yourself. And I advise +you to weigh your words, for you shall answer to me in public for any +insult you may offer me in private."</p> + +<p>Dr. Maclure was sobered by this unexpected flash of spirit. They had +been married nearly three years by this time, and Beth's habitual +docility had deceived him. Hitherto men have been able to insult their +wives in private with impunity when so minded, and Dan was staggered for +a moment to find himself face to face with a mere girl who boldly +refused to suffer the indignity. He was not prepared for such a display +of self-respect.</p> + +<p>"You're very high and mighty!" he jeered at last.</p> + +<p>"I am very determined," Beth rejoined, and set her lips.</p> + +<p>He tried to subdue her by staring her out of countenance; but Beth +scornfully returned his gaze. Then suddenly she stamped her foot, and +brought her clenched fist down on the dining-room table, beside which +she was standing. "Come, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">[Pg 378]</a></span> + come, sir," she said, "we've had enough of +this theatrical posing. You are wasting my time, explain yourself."</p> + +<p>He took a turn up and down the room.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Beth," he began, lowering his tone, "you cannot pretend that +Galbraith comes to see me."</p> + +<p>"Why should I?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Well, it isn't right that he should come to see you, and I won't have +it," he reiterated.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean that I am not to have any friends of my own?" she demanded.</p> + +<p>"<i>He</i> is not to be one of your friends," Dan answered doggedly.</p> + +<p>"And what explanation am I to give him, please?" she asked politely.</p> + +<p>"I won't have you giving him any explanation."</p> + +<p>"My dear Dan," she rejoined, "when you speak in that way, you show an +utter want of knowledge of my character. If I will not allow you to +insult me, and bully me, and bluster at me, it is not likely that I will +allow you to insult my friends. If Sir George Galbraith's visits are to +stop, I shall tell him the reason exactly. He at least is a gentleman."</p> + +<p>"That is as much as to say that I am not," Dan blustered.</p> + +<p>"You certainly are not behaving like one now," Beth coolly rejoined. +"But there! You have my ultimatum. I am not going to waste any more time +in vulgar scenes with you."</p> + +<p>"Ultimatum, indeed!" he jeered. "Well, you <i>are</i>, you know! You'll write +and explain to him, will you, that your husband's jealous of him? That +shows the terms you are on!"</p> + +<p>"It is jealousy then, is it?" said Beth. "Thank you. Now I understand +you."</p> + +<p>Dan's evil mood took another turn. His anger changed to self-pity. "Oh +dear! oh dear! what am I to do with you?" he exclaimed. "And after all +I've done for you—to treat me like this." He took out his +pocket-handkerchief and wiped away the tears which any mention of his +own goodness and the treatment he received from others always brought to +his eyes.</p> + +<p>Beth watched him contemptuously, yet her heart smote her. He was a poor +creature, but for that very reason, and because she was strong, surely +she should be gentle with him.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Dan," she said. "I have never knowingly done you any wrong +in thought, or word, or deed; all you have said to me to-day has been +ridiculously wrong-headed; but never mind. Stop crying, do, and don't +let us have any more idiotic jealousy. Why, it was Lady Galbraith who +sent me the flowers and fruit, with a kind message of apology because +she has not been able to call. Why should not she be jealous?" +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">[Pg 379]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, she's a fool!" Dan rejoined, recovering himself. "She leads him the +life of a dog with her fears and fancies, and she won't take any part in +his philanthropic work, though he wishes it. She's a pretty pill!"</p> + +<p>The servant came in at this moment to lay the table for lunch, and Dan +went to the looking-glass with the inconsequence of a child, and forgot +his grievance in the contemplation of his own beloved image and in +abusing Lady Galbraith. Abusing somebody was mental relaxation of the +most agreeable kind to him. Feeling that he had gone too far, he was +gracious to Beth during lunch, and just before he went out he kissed +her, and said, "We won't mention that fellow again, Beth. I don't +believe you'd do anything dishonourable."</p> + +<p>"I should think not!" said Beth.</p> + +<p>When he had gone, she returned to her secret chamber, the one little +corner sacred to herself, to her purest, noblest thoughts, her highest +aspirations; and as she looked round, it seemed as if ages had passed +since she last entered it, full of happiness and hope. It was as if she +had been innocent then, and was now corrupted. Her self-control did not +give way, but she could do nothing, and just sat there, wan with horror; +and as she sat, every now and then she shivered from head to foot. She +had known of course in a general way that such things did happen, that +married women did give their husbands cause for jealousy; but to her +mind they were a kind of married women who lived in another sphere where +she was not likely to encounter them. She had never expected to be +brought near such an enormity, let alone to have it brought home to +herself in a horrible accusation; and the effect of it was a shock to +her nervous system—one of those stunning blows which are scarcely felt +at first, but are agonising in their after effects. When the reaction +set in, Beth's disgust was so great it took a physical form, and ended +by making her violently sick. It was days before she quite recovered, +and in one sense of the word she was never the same again.</p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLI" id="CHAPTER_XLI"></a>CHAPTER XLI</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dan</span> said no more about Sir George Galbraith; and indeed he had no +excuse, for Sir George did not come again. There were other men, +however, who came to the house, Dan's own friends; and now that Beth's +eyes were opened, she perceived that he watched them all suspiciously if +they paid her any attention; and if she showed the slightest pleasure in +the conversation of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">[Pg 380]</a></span> + any of them, he would be sure to make some sneering +remark about it afterwards. Dan was so radically vicious that the notion +of any one being virtuous except under compulsion was incomprehensible +to him.</p> + +<p>"Your spirits seem to go up when Mr. Vanrickards is here," he observed +one day.</p> + +<p>"Thank you for warning me," Beth answered, descending to his level in +spite of herself. "I will be properly depressed the next time he comes."</p> + +<p>But although she could keep him in check so that he dared not say all +that he had in his mind, she understood him; and the worst of it was +that his coarse and brutal jealousy accustomed her to the suspicion, and +made her contemplate the possibility of such a lapse as he had in his +mind. She began to believe that he would not have tormented himself so +if husbands did not ordinarily have good reason to be jealous of their +wives. She concluded that such treachery of man to man as he dreaded +must be normal. And then also she realised that it was thought possible +for a married woman to fall in love, and even wondered at last if that +would ever be her own case. Dan had, in fact, destroyed his own best +safeguard. If a man would keep his wife from evil, he should not teach +her to suspect herself—neither should he familiarise her with ideas of +vice. Since their marriage Dan's whole conversation, and the depravity +of his tastes and habits, had tended towards the brutalisation of Beth. +Married life for her was one long initiation into the ways of the +vicious.</p> + +<p>Dr. Maclure's sordid jealousy made him the laughing-stock of the place, +though he never suspected it. His conceit was too great to let him +suppose that any sentiment of his could provoke ridicule. It became +matter for common gossip, however, and from that time forward gentlemen +ceased to visit the house. Men of a certain kind came still, men who +were bound to Dan by kindred tastes, but not such as he cared to +introduce to Beth. These boon companions generally came in the evening, +and were entertained in the dining-room, where they spent the night +together, smoking, drinking, and talking after the manner of their kind. +Beth could not use her secret chamber after dark for fear of the light +being seen, so she stayed in the drawing-room alone till she went to +bed. She found those evenings interminable, and the nights more trying +still. She could not read or write because of the noise in the +dining-room, and had to fall back on her sewing for occupation; but +sewing left her mind open to any obsession, and only too often, with the +gross laughter from the next room, scraps of the lewd topics her husband +delighted +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">[Pg 381]</a></span> + in came to her recollection. When Dan discoursed about such +things he was at the high-water mark of pleasure, his countenance +glowed, and enjoyment of the subject was expressed in all his person. +Beth's better nature revolted, but alas! she had become so familiar with +such subjects by this time that, although she loathed them, she could +not banish them. Life from her husband's point of view was a torment to +her, yet under the pressure of his immediate influence it was forced +upon her attention more and more—from his point of view.</p> + +<p>When she went to bed on his festive nights she suffered from the dread +of being disturbed. If her husband were called out at night +professionally, it was a pleasure to her to lie awake so that she might +be ready to rise the moment he returned, and get him anything he wanted. +On those occasions she always had a tray ready for him, with soup to be +heated, or coffee to be made over a spirit-lamp, and any little dainty +she thought would refresh him. She was fully in sympathy with him in his +work, and would have spared herself no fatigue to make it easier for +him, but she despised him for his vices, and refused to sacrifice +herself in order to make them pleasanter for him. When he stayed up +smoking and drinking half the night she resented the loss of sleep +entailed upon her, which meant less energy for her own work the next +day. The dread of being disturbed made her restless, and the futility of +it under the circumstances exasperated her. She suffered, too, more than +can be mentioned, from the smell of alcohol and tobacco, of which he +reeked, and from which he took no trouble to purify himself. Often and +often, when she had tossed herself into a fever on these dreadful +nights, she craved for long hours, with infinite yearning, to be safe +from disturbance, in purity and peace; and thought how happily, how +serenely she would have slept until the morning, and how strong and +fresh she would have arisen for another day's work had she been left +alone. Only once, however, did she complain. Dan was going out in a +particularly cheerful mood that night.</p> + +<p>"Shall you be late?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes, probably. Why?"</p> + +<p>"I was thinking, if you wouldn't mind, I would have a bed made up for +you in the spare room. <i>I</i> only sleep in snatches when you are out and I +am expecting you. Every sound rouses me. I think it is the door opening. +And then when you do come it disturbs me, and I do not sleep again. If +you don't mind I should prefer to be alone—on your late nights—your +late festive nights."</p> + +<p>Dr. Maclure stood looking gloomily into the fireplace.</p> + +<p>"Have I annoyed you, Dan?" Beth asked at last.</p> + +<p>He walked to the door, stood a moment with his back to her, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">[Pg 382]</a></span> then turned +and looked at her. "Annoyed is not the word," he said. "You have wounded +me deeply."</p> + +<p>He opened the door as he spoke, and went out. When he had gone Beth sat +and suffered. She could not bear to hurt him, she was not yet +sufficiently brutalised for that; so she said no more on the subject, +but patiently endured the long lonely night watches, and the after +companionship which had in it all that is most trying and offensive to a +refined and delicate woman.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>After that first display of jealousy Beth discovered that her husband +pried upon her continually. He was very high and mighty on the subject +of women spying upon men, but there seemed no meanness he would not +compass in order to spy upon a woman. He had duplicate keys to her +drawers and boxes, and rummaged through all her possessions when she +went out. One day she came upon him standing before her wardrobe, +feeling in the pockets of her dresses, and on another occasion she +discovered him unawares in her bedroom, picking little scraps of paper +out of the slop-pail and piecing them together to see what she had been +writing. To Beth, accustomed to the simple, honourable principles of her +parents, and to the confidence with which her mother had left her +letters lying about, because she knew that not one of her children would +dream of looking at them, Dan's turpitude was revolting. On those +occasions when she caught him, he did not hear her enter the room, and +she made her escape without disturbing him, and stole up to her secret +chamber, and sat there, suffering from one of those attacks of nausea +and shivering which came upon her in moments of deep disgust.</p> + +<p>After that she had an attack of illness which kept her in bed for a +week; but even then, feverish and suffering as she was, and yearning for +the coolness and liberty of a room to herself, she dared not suggest +such a thing for fear of a scene.</p> + +<p>While she was still in bed Dan brought her some letters one morning. He +made no remark when he gave them to her, but he had opened them as +usual, and stood watching her curiously while she read them. The first +she looked at was from her sister Bernadine, and had a black border +round it; but she took it out of its envelope unsuspiciously, and read +the words that were uppermost, "<i>Mamma died this morning</i>." In a moment +it flashed upon her that Dan had read the letter, and was waiting now to +see the effect of the shock upon her. She immediately, but +involuntarily, set herself to baffle his cruel curiosity. With a calm, +illegible face she read the letter from beginning to end, folded it, and +put it back in its envelope deliberately, then took up another which had +also been opened. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383">[Pg 383]</a></span></p> + +<p>But suppressed feeling finds vent in some form or other, and Beth showed +temper now instead of showing grief. "I wish you would not open my +letters," she said irritably. "All the freshness of them is gone for me +when you open them without my permission and read them first. Besides, +it is an insult to my correspondents. What they say to me is intended +for me, and not for you."</p> + +<p>"I have a perfect right to open your letters," he retorted.</p> + +<p>"I should like to see the Scripture that gives you the right, and I +should advise you to waive it if you do not wish me to assume the right +to open yours. Your petty prying keeps me in a continual state of +irritation. I shall be lowered to retaliate sooner or later. So stop it, +please, once and for all."</p> + +<p>"My petty prying, indeed!" he exclaimed. "Well, that is a nice thing to +say to your husband! Why, even when I do open your letters, which is not +often, I never read them without your permission."</p> + +<p>"Indeed," said Beth, who had ceased to be stunned by falsehoods. "Then +be good enough not even to open them in future."</p> + +<p>Dan tried to express injury and indignation in a long, hard look; but +Beth was reading another letter, and took no further notice of him.</p> + +<p>He hung about a little watching her.</p> + +<p>"Any news," he ventured at last, with an imperfect assumption of +indifference.</p> + +<p>"You know quite well what my news is," she answered bluntly, "and I am +not going to discuss it with you. I wish you would leave me alone."</p> + +<p>"Well, you're a nice pill!" said Dan, discomfited.</p> + +<p>Beth looked up at him. "What are you doing with your hat on in my +bedroom?" she asked sharply. "I thought I had made you understand that +you must treat me with respect, even if I am your wife."</p> + +<p>Dan uttered a coarse oath, and left the room, banging the door after +him.</p> + +<p>"Thank Heaven—at last!" Beth ejaculated. She had been too anxious to +get rid of him to scruple about the means, but when he had gone a +reaction set in, and she lay back on her pillows, flushed, excited, +furious with him, disgusted with herself. She felt she was falling away +from all her ideals. "As the husband is the wife is"—the words flashed +through her mind, but she would not believe it inevitable. But even if +she should degenerate, her own nature was too large, too strong, too +generous to cast the blame on any one but herself. "No!" she exclaimed. +"We are what we allow ourselves to be." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384">[Pg 384]</a></span></p> + +<p>Swift following upon that thought came the recollection of a bad fall +she had had when she was a little child in Ireland, and the way her +mother had picked her up, and cuddled her, and comforted her. Beth burst +into a paroxysm of tears. She had understood her mother better than her +mother had understood her, had felt for her privations, had admired and +imitated her patient endurance; and now to think that it was too late, +to think that she had gone, and it would never be in Beth's power to +brighten her life or lessen the hardship of it! That was all she thought +of. Every week since her marriage she had sent her mother a long, +cheerful, amusing letter, full of pleasant details—an exercise in that +form of composition; but with never a hint of her troubles; and Mrs. +Caldwell died under the happy delusion that it was well with Beth. She +never suspected that she had married Beth to a low-born man—not +low-born in the sense of being a tradesman's son, for a tradesman's son +may be an honest and upright gentleman, just as a peer's son may be a +cheat and a snob; but low-born in that he came of parents who were +capable of fraud and deceit in social relations, and had taught him no +scheme of life in which honour played a conspicuous part. Beth had done +her best for her mother, but there was no one now to remind her of this +for her comfort, poor miserable girl. Her courageous toil had gone for +nothing—her mother would never even know of it; and it seemed to her in +that moment of deep disheartenment as if everything she tried was to be +equally ineffectual.</p> + +<p>Hours later, Minna the housemaid found Beth sitting up in bed, sobbing +hopelessly; and got her tea, and stayed with her, making her put some +restraint upon herself by the mere fact of her presence; and presently +Beth, in her human way, began to talk about her mother to the girl, +which relieved her. Mrs. Caldwell had only been ill a few days, and not +seriously, as it was supposed; the end had come quite suddenly, so that +Beth had never been warned.</p> + +<p>Dan did not come in till next morning, which was a great relief to her. +She meant to speak about the news to him when he appeared, but somehow, +the moment she saw him, her heart hardened, and she could not bring +herself to utter a word on the subject. The position was awkward for +him; but he got out of it adroitly by pretending he had seen an +announcement of the death in the paper.</p> + +<p>"I suppose I ought to go to the funeral," he said. "There is doubtless a +will."</p> + +<p>"Doubtless," said Beth, "but you will not benefit by it, if that is what +you are thinking of. Mamma considered that I was provided for, and +therefore she left the little she had to Bernadine. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385">[Pg 385]</a></span> She told me +herself, because she wanted me to understand her reason for making such +a difference between us; and I think she was quite right. She may have +left me two or three hundred pounds, but it will not be more than that."</p> + +<p>"But even that will be something towards the bills," said Dan, his +countenance, which had dropped considerably, clearing again.</p> + +<p>Beth looked at him with a set countenance, but said no more. She had +begun to observe that the bills only became pressing when her allowance +was due.</p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLII" id="CHAPTER_XLII"></a>CHAPTER XLII</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">Some</span> one in Slane gave Sir George Galbraith a hint of Dan's coarse +jealousy, and he had judged it better for Beth that he should not call +again; but his interest in her and his desire to help her increased if +anything. He had read her manuscript carefully himself, and obtained +Ideala's opinion of it also; but Beth had not done her best by any means +in the one she had given him. She had written it for the purpose, for +one thing, which was fatal, for her style had stiffened with anxiety to +do her best, and her ideas, instead of flowing spontaneously, had been +forced and formal, as her manner was when she was shy. It is one thing +to have a fine theory of art and high principles (and an excellent +thing, too), but it is quite another to put them into effect, especially +when you're in a hurry to arrive. Hurry misplaced is hindrance. If Beth +had given Sir George some one of the little things which she had written +in sheer exuberance of thought and feeling, without hampering hopes of +doing anything with them, he would have been very differently impressed; +but, even as it was, what she had given him was as full of promise as it +was full of faults, and he was convinced that he had not been mistaken +in her, especially when he found that Ideala thought even better of her +prospects than he did. Ideala, who was an impulsive and generous woman, +wrote warmly on the subject, and Sir George sent her letter to Beth with +a few lines of kindly expressed encouragement from himself. He returned +her manuscript; but when Beth saw it again, she was greatly +dissatisfied. The faults her friends had pointed out to her she plainly +perceived, and more also; but she could not see the merits. Praise only +made her the more fastidious about her work; but in that way it helped +her.</p> + +<p>Sir George's kindness did not stop at criticism however. He was cut off +from her himself, and could expect no help from his +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_386" id="Page_386">[Pg 386]</a></span> wife, whose nervous +system had suffered so much from the shock of unhappy circumstances in +her youth that she could not now bear even to hear of, let alone to be +brought in contact with, any form of sorrow or suffering; but there were +other ladies—Mrs. Kilroy of Ilverthorpe, for instance. Sir George had +known her all her life, and went specially to ask her as a favour to +countenance Beth.</p> + +<p>"I want you to be kind to Mrs. Maclure, Angelica," he said. "She's far +too good for that plausible bounder of a barber's block she's married."</p> + +<p>"Then why did she marry him?" Angelica interrupted, in her vivacious +way.</p> + +<p>"Pitchforked into it at the suggestion of her friends in her infancy, I +should say, reasoning by induction," he answered. "That's generally the +explanation in these cases. But, at any rate, she's not going to be +happy with him. And she's a charming little creature, very sweet and +docile naturally, and with unusual ability, or I'm much mistaken, and +plenty of spirit, too, when she's roused, I should anticipate. But at +present, in her childish ignorance, she's yielding where she should +resist, and she'll be brutalised if no one comes to the rescue. I don't +trust that man Maclure. A man who speaks flippantly of things that +should be respected is not a man who will be scrupulous when his own +interests are concerned; and such a man has it in his power to make the +life of a girl a hell upon earth in ways which she will not complain of, +if she has no knowledge to use in self-defence; and girls seldom have."</p> + +<p>"As I have learnt, alas! from bitter experience in my work amongst the +victims of holy matrimony," Angelica interposed bitterly. "Oh, how +sickening it all is! Sometimes I envy Evadne in that she is able to +refuse to know."</p> + +<p>Sir George was silent for a little, then he said, "This is likely to be +a more than usually pathetic case, because of the girl's unusual +character and promise, and also because her brain is too delicately +poised to stand the kind of shocks and jars that threaten her. You will +take pity on her, Angelica?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Kilroy shrugged her shoulders. "How can I countenance a woman who +acquiesces in such a position as her husband holds, and actually lives +on his degrading work?"</p> + +<p>"I don't believe she knows anything about it," he rejoined.</p> + +<p>"If I were sure of that," said Angelica, meditating.</p> + +<p>"It is easy enough to make sure," he suggested.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>Mrs. Carne, wife of the leading medical man in Slane, conceived it to be +her duty to patronise Beth to the extent of an occasional formal call, +as she was the wife of a junior practitioner; +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_387" id="Page_387">[Pg 387]</a></span> and Beth duly returned +these calls, because she was determined not to make enemies for Dan by +showing any resentment for the slights she had suffered in Slane.</p> + +<p>Feeling depressed indoors one dreary afternoon, she set off, alone as +usual, to pay one of these visits. She rather hoped perhaps to find some +sort of satisfaction by way of reward for the brave discharge of an +uncongenial duty.</p> + +<p>On the way into town, Dan passed her in his dogcart with a casual nod, +bespattering her with mud. "You'll have your carriage soon, please God! +and never have to walk. I hate to see a delicate woman on foot in the +mud." Beth remembered the words so well, and Dan's pious intonation as +he uttered them, and she laughed. She had a special little laugh for +exhibitions of this kind of divergence between Dan's precepts and his +practices. But even as she laughed her face contracted as with a sudden +spasm of pain, and she ejaculated—"But I shall succeed!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Carne was at home, and Beth was shown into the drawing-room, where +she found several other lady visitors—Mrs. Kilroy, Mrs. Orton Beg, Lady +Fulda Guthrie, and Ideala. The last two she had not met before.</p> + +<p>"Where will you sit?" said Mrs. Carne, who was an effusive little +person. "What a day! You were brave to come out, though perhaps it will +do you good. My husband says go out in all weathers and battle with the +breeze; there's nothing like exercise."</p> + +<p>"Battling with the breeze and an umbrella on a wet day is not exercise, +it is exasperation," Beth answered, and at the sound of her peculiarly +low, clear, cultivated voice, the conversation stopped suddenly, and +every one in the room looked at her. She seemed unaware of the +attention. In fact, she ignored every one present except her hostess. +This was her habitual manner now, assumed to save herself from slights. +When she entered, Mrs. Kilroy had half risen from her seat, and +endeavoured to attract her attention; but Beth passed her by, +deliberately chose a seat, and sat down. Her demeanour, so apparently +cold and self-contained, was calculated to command respect, but it cost +Beth a great deal to maintain it. She felt she was alone in an +unfriendly atmosphere—a poor little thing, shabbily dressed in +home-made mourning, and despised for she knew not what offence; and she +suffered horribly. She had grown very fragile by this time, and looked +almost childishly young. Her eyes were unnaturally large and wistful, +her mouth drooped at the corners, and the whole expression of her face +was pathetic. Mrs. Kilroy looked at her seriously, and thought to +herself, "That girl is suffering." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_388" id="Page_388">[Pg 388]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mrs. Carne offered Beth tea, but she refused it. She could not accept +such inhuman hospitality. She had come to do her duty, not to force a +welcome. She glanced at the clock. Five minutes more, and she might go. +The conversation buzzed on about her. She was sitting next to a strange +lady, a serene and dignified woman, dressed in black velvet and sable. +Beth glanced at her the first time with indifference, but looked again +with interest. Mrs. Carne bustled up and spoke to the lady in her +effusive way.</p> + +<p>"You are better, I hope," she said, as she handed her some tea. "It +really is <i>sweet</i> to see you looking so <i>much</i> yourself again."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, I am quite well again now, thanks to your good husband," the +lady answered. "But he has given me so many tonics and things lately, I +always seem to be shaking bottles. I am quite set in that attitude. +Everything I touch I shake. I found myself shaking my watch instead of +winding it up the other day."</p> + +<p>"Ah, then, you are quite yourself again, I see," Mrs. Carne said archly. +"But why didn't you come to the Wilmingtons' last night?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, you know I never go to those functions if I can help it," the lady +answered, her gentle rather drawling voice lending a charm to the words +quite apart from their meaning. "I cannot stand the kind of conversation +to which one is reduced on such occasions—if you can call that +conversation which is but the cackle of geese, each repeating the +utterances of the other. When the Lord loves a woman, I think He takes +her out of society by some means or other, and keeps her out of it for +her good."</p> + +<p>Beth knew that if she had said such a thing, Mrs. Carne would have +received it with a stony stare, but now she simpered. "That is so like +you!" she gushed. "But the Wilmingtons were <i>dreadfully</i> disappointed."</p> + +<p>"They will get over it," the lady answered, glancing round +indifferently.</p> + +<p>"How are you getting on with your new book, Ideala?" Mrs. Kilroy asked +her across the room. Beth instantly froze to attention. This was her +friend, then, Sir George's Ideala.</p> + +<p>"I have not got into the swing of it yet," Ideala answered. "It is all +dot-and-go-one—a uniform ruggedness which is not true either to life or +mind. Our ways in the world are stony enough at times, but they are not +all stones. There are smooth stretches along which we gallop, and +sheltered grassy spaces where we rest."</p> + +<p>"What <i>I</i> love about <i>your</i> work is the <i>style</i>," said Mrs. Carne. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_389" id="Page_389">[Pg 389]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Do you?" Ideala rejoined, somewhat dryly as it seemed to Beth. "But +what is style?"</p> + +<p>"I am so bad at definitions," said Mrs. Carne, "but I <i>feel</i> it, you +know."</p> + +<p>"As if it were a thing in itself to be adopted or acquired?" Ideala +asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes, quite so," said Mrs. Carne in a tone of relief—as of one who has +acquitted herself better than she expected and is satisfied.</p> + +<p>"I am sure it is not," Beth burst out, forgetting herself and her +slights all at once in the interest of the subject. "I have been reading +the lives of authors lately, together with their works, and it seems to +me, in the case of all who had genius, that their style was the outcome +of their characters—their principles—the view they took of the +subject—that is, if they were natural and powerful writers. Only the +second-rate people have a manufactured style, and force their subject to +adapt itself to it—the kind of people whose style is mentioned quite +apart from their matter. In the great ones the style is the outcome of +the subject. Each emotion has its own form of expression. The language +of passion is intense; of pleasure jocund, easy, abundant; of content +calm, of happiness strong but restrained; of love warm, tender. The +language of artificial feeling is artificial; there is no mistaking +insincerity when a writer is not sincere, and the language of true +feeling is equally unmistakable. It is simple, easy, unaffected; and it +is the same in all ages. The artificial styles of yesterday go out of +fashion with the dresses their authors wear, and become an offence to +our taste; but Shakespeare's periods appeal to every generation. He +wrote from the heart as well as the head, and triumphed in the grace of +nature."</p> + +<p>Beth stopped short and coloured crimson, finding that every one in the +room was listening to her.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Carne stood while she was speaking with a cup of tea in her hand, +and tried to catch Ideala's eye in order to signal with raised eyebrows +her contempt for Beth's opinion; but Ideala was listening with approval.</p> + +<p>"That is exactly what I think," she exclaimed, "only I could not have +expressed it so. You write yourself doubtless?"</p> + +<p>But Beth had become confused, and only gazed at her by way of reply. She +felt she had done the wrong thing to speak out like that in such +surroundings, and she regretted every word, and burned with vexation. +Then suddenly in herself, as before, something seemed to say, or rather +to flash forth the exclamation for her comfort: "I shall succeed! I +shall succeed!"</p> + +<p>She drew herself up and looked round on them all with a look that +transformed her. Such an assurance in herself was +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_390" id="Page_390">[Pg 390]</a></span> not to be doubted. +The day would come when they would be glad enough to see her, when she +too would be heard with respect and quoted. She, the least considered, +she in her shabby gloves, neglected, slighted, despised, alone, she +would arrive, would have done something—more than them all!</p> + +<p>She arose with her eyes fixed on futurity, and was half-way home before +she came to and found herself tearing along through the rain with her +head forward and her hands clasped across her chest, urged to energy by +the cry in her heart, "I shall succeed! I shall succeed!"</p> + +<p>"Who was that?" said Ideala in a startled voice when Beth jumped up and +left the room.</p> + +<p>"The wife of that Dr. Maclure, you know," Mrs. Carne replied. "Her +manners seem somewhat abrupt. She forgot to say good-bye. I did not know +she was by way of being clever."</p> + +<p>"By way of being clever!" Ideala ejaculated. "I wish I had known who she +was. Why didn't you introduce her? By way of being clever, indeed! Why, +she is just what I have missed being with all my cleverness, or I am +much mistaken, and that is a genius. And what is more important to us, I +suspect she is the genius for whom we are waiting. Why, <i>why</i> didn't you +name her? It is the old story. She came unto her own, and her own +received her not."</p> + +<p>"I—I never dreamt you would care to know her—her position, you know," +Mrs. Carne stammered disconcerted.</p> + +<p>"Her position! What is her position to me?" Ideala exclaimed. "It is the +girl herself I think of. Besides, I daresay she doesn't even know what +her position is!"</p> + +<p>"That is what Sir George says, and he knows her well," Mrs. Kilroy +interposed.</p> + +<p>"But I never suspected that she was in the least interesting," Mrs. +Carne protested; "and I'm sure she doesn't look attractive—such an +expression!"</p> + +<p>"You are to blame for that, all of you," Ideala rejoined, with something +in her gentle way of speaking which had the effect of strength and +vehemence. "I know how it has been. She is sensitive, and you have made +her feel there is something wrong. You have treated her so that she +expects no kindness from you, and so, from diffidence and restraint of +tenderness, her face has set hard into coldness. But that is only a +mask. How you treat each other, you women! And you are as wanting in +discernment, too, as you are in kindness and sympathy. She has had to +put on that mask of coldness to hide what you make her suffer, and it +will take long loving to melt it now, and make her look human again. You +misinterpret her silence too. How can you expect her to be interesting +if you take no interest in her? +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_391" id="Page_391">[Pg 391]</a></span> + But look at her eyes? Any one with the +least kindly discernment might have seen the love and living interest +there! If she had been in a good position, everybody would have found +her as singularly interesting as she, without caring a rap for our +position, has found us. She sees through us all with those eyes of +hers—ay, and beyond! She sees what we have never seen, and never shall +in this incarnation; hers are the vision and the dream that are denied +to us. Were she to come forward as a leader to-morrow, I would follow +her humbly and do as she told me.... I read some of her writings the +other day, but I thought they were the work of a mature woman. Had I +known she was such a child I should have wondered!"</p> + +<p>"Dear me! does she really write?" said Mrs. Carne. "Well, you surprise +me! I should never have dreamt that she had anything in her!"</p> + +<p>"You make me feel ashamed of myself, Ideala," said Mrs. Kilroy with +contrition. "I ought to have known. But I could think of nothing, see +nothing in her but that horrible business. I shall certainly do my best +now, however, when we return from town, to cultivate her acquaintance, +if she will let me."</p> + +<p>"Let you!" Mrs. Carne ejaculated with her insinuating smile. "I should +think she would be flattered."</p> + +<p>"I am not so sure of that," said Ideala.</p> + +<p>"Neither am I," said Mrs. Kilroy. "I only wish I were. But she ignored +us all rather pointedly when she came in."</p> + +<p>"To save herself from being ignored, I suppose," said Ideala bitterly. +"The girl is self-respecting."</p> + +<p>"I confess I liked her the first time I saw her," said Mrs. Orton Beg; +"but afterwards, when I heard what her husband was, I felt forced to +ignore her. How can you countenance her if she approves?"</p> + +<p>"It was a mistake to take her approval for granted," said Mrs. Kilroy. +"Ideala would have inquired."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Ideala. "I take nothing for granted. If I hear anything +nice, I believe it; but if I hear anything objectionable about any one, +I either inquire about it or refuse to believe it point-blank. And in a +case like this, I should be doubly particular, for, in one of its many +moods, genius is a young child that gazes hard and sees nothing."</p> + +<p>"And you really think the little woman is a genius, and will be a great +writer some day?" Mrs. Carne asked with exaggerated deference to +Ideala's opinion.</p> + +<p>"I don't know about being a writer," said Ideala. "Genius is versatile. +There are many ways in which she might succeed. It depends on +herself—on the way she is finally impelled to choose. But great she +will be in something—if she lives." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_392" id="Page_392">[Pg 392]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Let us hope that she will be a great benefactor of her own sex then, +and do great good," said the gentle Lady Fulda.</p> + +<p>"Amen!" Ideala ejaculated fervently.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Carne tried to put off her agreeable society smile and put on her +Sunday-in-church expression, but was not in time. When we only assume an +attitude once a week, be it mental or physical, we do not fall into it +readily on a sudden.</p> + +<p>"Not that working for women as a career is what I should wish her for +her own comfort," said Ideala after a pause. "Women who work for women +in the present period of our progress—I mean the women who bring about +the changes which benefit their sex—must resign themselves to +martyrdom. Only the martyr spirit will carry them through. Men will +often help and respect them, but other women, especially the workers +with methods of their own, will make their lives a burden to them with +pin-pricks of criticism, and every petty hindrance they can put in their +way. There is little union between women workers, and less tolerance. +Each leader thinks her own idea the only good one, and disapproves of +every other. They seldom see that many must be working in many ways to +complete the work. And as to the bulk of women, those who will benefit +by our devotion, they bespatter us with mud, stone us, slander us, +calumniate us; and even in the very act of taking advantage of the +changes we have brought about, ignore us, slight us, push us under, and +step up on our bodies to secure the benefits which our endeavours have +made it possible for them to enjoy. I know! I have worked for women +these many years, and could I show you my heart, you would find it +covered with scars—the scars of the wounds with which they reward me."</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>When Beth got in that day, she found Dan standing in the hall, examining +a letter addressed to herself. She took it out of his hand without +ceremony, and tore it open. "Hurrah!" she exclaimed, "it's accepted."</p> + +<p>"What's accepted?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"An article I sent to <i>Sunshine</i>. And the editor says he would like to +see some more of my work," Beth rejoined, almost dancing with delight.</p> + +<p>"I don't suppose that will put much in your pocket," Dan observed. "He +wouldn't praise you if he meant to pay you."</p> + +<p>"But he has sent me a cheque for thirty shillings," said Beth.</p> + +<p>Dan's expression changed. "Then you may be sure it's worth double," he +said. "But you might get some nice notepaper for me out of it, and have +it stamped with my crest, like a good girl. It's necessary in my +profession, and I've finished the last you got." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_393" id="Page_393">[Pg 393]</a></span></p> + +<p>Beth laughed as she had laughed—that same peculiar mirthless little +laugh—when he drove past her and splashed her with mud on the road. "It +never seems to occur to you that I may have some little wants of my own, +Dan," she said; "you are a perfect horseleech's daughter."</p> + +<p>Dan gazed at her blankly. He never seemed to understand any such +allusion. "You've got a grievance, have you?" he snarled. "Do <i>I</i> ever +prevent you getting anything you like?"</p> + +<p>Beth shrugged her shoulders by way of answer, and went into the +dining-room. He followed her, bent on making a scene; and she, +perceiving this, set herself down on a chair and folded her hands.</p> + +<p>He took a turn up and down the room. "And this is my fine marriage into +a county family, which was to have done so much for me!" he ejaculated +at last. "But I might have known better, considering the hole I took you +out of. You've soon forgotten all I've done for you."</p> + +<p>Beth smiled enigmatically.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes! it's a laughing matter," he proceeded. "I've just ruined myself +by marrying you; that's what I've done. Not a soul in the place will +come to the house because of you. Nobody could ever stand you but me; +and what have I got by it? Not a halfpenny! It was just a swindle, the +whole business."</p> + +<p>"Be careful!" Beth flashed forth. "If you make such assertions you must +prove them. The day is past when a man might insult his wife with +impunity. I have already told you I won't stand it. It would neither be +good for you nor for me if I did."</p> + +<p>"It <i>was</i> a swindle," he bawled. "Where are the seven or eight hundred a +year I married you for?"</p> + +<p>Beth looked at him a moment, then burst out laughing. "Dear Dan," she +said, offering him the cheque, "you shall have the thirty shillings all +to yourself. You deserve it for telling the truth for once. I consider I +have had the best of the bargain, though. Thirty shillings is cheap for +such valuable information."</p> + +<p>"Oh, damn you!" said Dan, leaving the room and banging the door after +him.</p> + +<p>Beth signed the cheque and left it lying on his writing-table. She never +saw it again.</p> + +<p>Then she went up to her secret chamber, and spent long hours—sobbing, +sobbing, sobbing, as if the marks of her married life on her character +could be washed away with tears. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_394" id="Page_394">[Pg 394]</a></span></p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLIII" id="CHAPTER_XLIII"></a>CHAPTER XLIII</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beth</span> had made fifty pounds in eighteen months by her beautiful +embroideries; but after her mother's death she did no more for sale, +neither did she spend the money. She had suffered so many humiliations +for want of money, it made her feel safer to have some by her. She gave +herself up to study at this time, and wrote a great deal. It was winter +now, and she was often driven down from her secret chamber to the +dining-room by the cold. When Dan came in and found her at work, he +would sniff contemptuously or facetiously, according to his mood at the +moment. "Wasting paper as usual, eh? Better be sewing on my buttons," +was his invariable remark. Not that his buttons were ever off, or that +Beth ever sewed them on either. She was too good an organiser to do +other people's work for them.</p> + +<p>She made no reply to Dan's sallies. With him her mind was in a state of +solitary confinement always—not a good thing for her health, but better +on the whole than any attempt to discuss her ideas with him, or to talk +to him about anything, indeed, but himself.</p> + +<p>Beth fared well that winter, however—fared well in herself, that is. +She had some glorious moments, revelling in the joy of creation. There +is a mental analogy to all physical processes. Fertility in life comes +of love; and in art the fervour of production is also accompanied by a +rapture and preceded by a passion of its own. When Beth was in a good +mood for work, it was like love—love without the lover; she felt all +the joy of love, with none of the disturbance. When the idea of +publication was first presented to her, it robbed her of this joy. As +she wrote, she thought more of what she might gain than of what she was +doing. Visions of success possessed her, and the ideas upon which her +attention should have been fully concentrated were thinned by +anticipations; and during that period her work was indifferent. Later, +however, she worked again for work's sake, loving it; and then she +advanced. She saw little of Dan in those days, and thought less; but +when they met, she was, as usual, gentle and tolerant, patiently +enduring his "cheeriness," and entering into no quarrel unless he forced +one upon her.</p> + +<p>One bright frosty morning he came in rather earlier than usual and found +her writing in the dining-room.</p> + +<p>"Well, I've had a rattling good ride this morning," he began, plunging +into his favourite topic as usual without any pretence of interest in +her or in her pursuits. "Nothing like riding for improving +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_395" id="Page_395">[Pg 395]</a></span> the +circulation! I wish to goodness I could keep another horse. It would add +to my income in the long run. But I'm so cursedly handicapped by those +bills. They keep me awake at night thinking of them."</p> + +<p>Beth sucked the end of her pencil and looked out of the window, +wondering inwardly why he never tried to pay them.</p> + +<p>"I calculate that they come to just three hundred pounds," he proceeded, +looking keenly at Beth as he spoke; but she remained unmoved. "Don't you +think," he ventured, "it would be a good thing to expend that three +hundred pounds your mother left you on the debts? I know I could make +money if I once got my head above water."</p> + +<p>"That three hundred brings me in fifteen pounds a year," said Beth. "It +is well invested, and I promised my mother not to touch any of my little +capital. There is the interest, however, it arrived this morning. You +can have <i>that</i> if you like."</p> + +<p>"Well, that would be a crumb of comfort, at all events," he said, +pouncing on the lawyer's letter, which was lying beside Beth on the +table, and gloating on the cheque. "But don't you think, now that you +have the interest, it would be a good time to sell and get the +principal? Of course your mother was right and wise to advise you not to +part with your capital; but this wouldn't be parting with it, because I +should pay you back in time, you know. It would only be a loan, and I'd +give you the interest on it regularly too; just think what a relief it +would be to me to get those bills paid!" He ran his fingers up through +his hair as he spoke, and gazed at himself in the glass tragically.</p> + +<p>"Any news?" said Beth, after a little pause.</p> + +<p>Dan, baffled, turned and began to walk up and down the room. "No, there +never is any news in this confounded hole," he answered, venting his +irritation on the place. "Oh, by the way, though, I am forgetting. I was +at the Pettericks' to-day. That girl Bertha is not getting on as I +should like."</p> + +<p>"The hysterical one?" said Beth.</p> + +<p>"Ye—yes," he answered, hesitating. "The one who threatened to be +hysterical at one time. But that's all gone off. Now she's just weak, +and she should have electricity; but I can't be going there every day to +apply it—takes too much time: so I suggested to her people that she +should come here for a while, as a paying patient, you know."</p> + +<p>"And is she coming?" Beth said, rather in dismay.</p> + +<p>"Yes, to-morrow," he replied. "I said you'd be delighted; but you must +write and say so yourself, just for politeness' sake. It will be a good +thing for you too, you know. You are too much alone, and she'll be a +companion for you. She's not half a bad girl." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_396" id="Page_396">[Pg 396]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Shall I be obliged to give her much of my time?" Beth asked +lugubriously.</p> + +<p>"Oh dear, no! She'll look after herself," Dr. Maclure cheerfully assured +her. "I'll hire a piano for her. Must launch out a little on these +occasions, you know. It's setting a sprat to catch a whale."</p> + +<p>The piano arrived that afternoon. Beth wished Dan had let her choose it; +but a piano of any kind was a delight. She had not had one since her +marriage. Dan had said at first that a piano was a luxury which they +must not think of when they could not afford the necessaries; and a +luxury he had considered it ever since.</p> + +<p>Bertha Petterick was not the kind of person that Beth would have chosen +for a companion, and she dreaded her coming; but before Bertha had been +in the house a week she had so enlivened it that Beth wondered she had +ever objected to her. Bertha fawned upon Beth from the first, and was by +way of looking up to her, and admiring her intellect. She was four or +five years older than Beth, but gave herself no airs on that account. +She was a dark girl, good looking in a common kind of way, with a +masculine stride in her walk, a deep mannish voice; and not at all +intellectual, but very practical: what some people consider a fine girl +and others a coarse one, according to their taste. She was a good shot, +could make a dress, cook a dinner, ride to hounds, and play any game; +and she was what is called good-natured, that is to say, ready to do for +any one anything that could be done on the spur of the moment. Things +she might promise to do, or things requiring thought, she did not +trouble herself about; but she would finish a pretty piece of work for +Beth, gather flowers or buy them and do the table decorations, and keep +things tidy in the sitting-rooms. She played and sang well, and was +ready to do both at any time if she were asked, which was a joy to Beth; +and her bright chatter kept Dan in a good humour, which was a relief. +She had plenty of money, and spent it lavishly. Every time she went out +she bought Beth something, a piece of music she had mentioned, a book +she longed for, materials for work, besides flowers and fruit and sweets +in unlimited quantities. Beth remonstrated, but Bertha begged Beth not +to deprive her of the one pleasure she had in life just then, the +pleasure of pleasing Beth, and of acknowledging what she never could +repay but dearly appreciated—Beth's sisterly sympathy, her consistent +kindness! Such sayings were tinged with sadness, which made Beth suspect +that Bertha had some secret sorrow; but if so, it was most carefully +concealed, for there was not a trace of it in her habitual manner. She +showed no physical delicacy either; but then, as she said herself, she +was picking +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_397" id="Page_397">[Pg 397]</a></span> + up in such a wonderful way under the treatment, she really +began to feel that there was very little the matter with her.</p> + +<p>Dan managed to be at home a great deal to look after his patient, and +was most attentive to her. He hired a brougham three times a week to do +his rounds in, that she might accompany him, and so get the air without +fatigue or risk of cold; and he would have her to sit with him in the +dining-room when he was smoking, and rolled cigarettes for her; or would +spend the evening with her in the drawing-room, listening to her playing +and singing, or playing bezique with her, and seemingly well content, +although in private he sometimes said to Beth it was all a beastly bore, +but he must go through with it as a duty since he had undertaken it, it +being his way to do a thing thoroughly if he did it at all.</p> + +<p>"Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might," he added +piously. "If a thing's worth doing at all, it's worth doing well, I +always think."</p> + +<p>That was his formula for the time being, but Beth judged him by his +demeanour, which was gay, and not by his professions, and did not pity +him. She was in excellent spirits herself, for her writing was going +well; and it varied the monotony pleasantly for her to have Bertha to +talk to, and walk, play, or sew with, after her work. Bertha's +demonstrations of affection, too, were grateful to Beth, who had had so +little love either bestowed upon her or required of her.</p> + +<p>Bertha had been in the house three months, when one day her mother +called, and found Beth alone, Dan and Bertha having gone for a drive +together. Mrs. Petterick had just returned from abroad, where the whole +family had been living most of the time that Bertha had been with the +Maclures.</p> + +<p>"Really," Mrs. Petterick said, "I don't know how to thank you for your +kindness to my girl. She's quite a different person I can see by her +letters, thanks to the good doctor. Before he took her in hand she was +quite hysterical, and had to lie down two or three times a day, because +she said she had no strength for anything. But really three months is an +abuse of hospitality; and I think she should be coming home now."</p> + +<p>"Oh no, do let her stay a little longer if you can spare her," Beth +pleaded. "It is so nice to have her here."</p> + +<p>"Well, it is good of you to say so," said Mrs. Petterick, "but it must +be a great expense to you. We weren't well off ourselves at one time. +Mr. Petterick's a self-made man, and I know that every additional mouth +makes a difference. But, however, you being proud, I won't offend you by +offering money in exchange for kindness, which can't be repaid, but +shan't be forgotten." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_398" id="Page_398">[Pg 398]</a></span></p> + +<p>When Mrs. Petterick had gone, Beth sat awhile staring into the fire. She +was somewhat stunned, for Dan had assured her that Bertha was a paying +patient, and that, it seemed, had been a gratuitous lie. She was roused +at last by Minna, the parlour-maid. "Please, ma'am, a lady wishes to see +you," Minna said.</p> + +<p>"Show her in," Beth answered listlessly. But the next moment she +stiffened with astonishment, for the lady who entered was Mrs. Kilroy of +Ilverthorpe.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid I have taken you by surprise," Mrs. Kilroy began rather +nervously.</p> + +<p>"Will you sit down?" Beth said coldly. "You cannot wonder if I am +surprised to see you. This is the first visit you have paid me, although +we met directly after I came to Slane some years ago. You were kind and +cordial on that occasion, but the next time I saw you—at that ball—you +slighted me; and after that you shunned me until I met you the other day +at Mrs. Carne's, and then you seemed inclined to take me up again. I do +not understand such caprices, and I do not like them."</p> + +<p>"It was not caprice," Mrs. Kilroy assured her. "I liked you very much +the first time we met, and I should have called immediately; but when I +asked for your address, I was told that your husband was in charge of +the Lock Hospital——"</p> + +<p>"Yes, the hospital for the diseases of women," Beth said. "But what +difference does that make?"</p> + +<p>"It made me jump to the hasty conclusion that you approved of the +degradation of your own sex," said Angelica.</p> + +<p>"The degradation of my own sex!" said Beth bewildered. "What is a Lock +Hospital?"</p> + +<p>Angelica explained the whole horrible apparatus for the special +degradation of women.</p> + +<p>"Now perhaps you will understand what we felt about you," Angelica +concluded—"we who are loyal to our own sex, and have a sense of +justice—when we thought you were content to live on the means your +husband makes in such a shameful way."</p> + +<p>An extraordinary look of relief came into Beth's face. "Then it was not +my fault—not because I was horrid," she exclaimed. All the slights were +as nothing the moment she gathered that she had not deserved them. +Angelica stared at her. But it was not in Beth's nature to think long +about herself; only the full force of what she had just heard as it +concerned others did not come to her for some seconds. When it did, she +was overcome. "How could you suppose that I knew?" she gasped at last. +"This is the first hint I have had of the loathsome business. My husband +talks to me about—many things that he had better not have +mentioned—but about this he has never said a word." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_399" id="Page_399">[Pg 399]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Then he must have suspected that you would disapprove," said Mrs. +Kilroy.</p> + +<p>"Disapprove!" Beth ejaculated. "The whole thing makes me sick. I ought +to have been told before I married him. I never would have spoken to a +man in such a position had I known. You did well to avoid me."</p> + +<p>"No," said Angelica. "I did ill, and I feel humiliated for my own want +of penetration—for my hasty conclusion. It was Sir George Galbraith who +first made me suspect that you knew nothing about it, and I would have +come at once to make sure, but we were just leaving the neighbourhood, +and we only returned yesterday. Ideala did not believe that you knew it +either, and she rated us all for the way we had treated you. She has +been in America ever since she met you at Mrs. Carne's, but she is +coming home next week, and has written to entreat me to ask you to meet +her. Will you? Will you come and stay with me? Do! and talk this over +with us. I can see that it has been a great shock to you."</p> + +<p>"I cannot answer you now," said Beth, "I must think—I must think what I +had better do."</p> + +<p>"Yes, think it over," said Angelica, "then write and tell me when you +will come. Only do come. You will find yourself among friends—congenial +friends, I venture to prophesy."</p> + +<p>When Mrs. Kilroy had gone, Beth went to her bedroom, and waited there +for Dan. It was the only place where she could be sure of seeing him +alone. He dressed for dinner now that Miss Petterick was with them.</p> + +<p>Dan came in whistling hilariously. He stopped short when he saw Beth's +face.</p> + +<p>"What's up?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Kilroy has been here."</p> + +<p>"I hope you thanked her for nothing!"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid I forgot to thank her at all," Beth said, "although she has +put me under an obligation to her."</p> + +<p>"May I ask what the obligation is?"</p> + +<p>"She told me frankly why no decent woman will associate with us. It is +not my fault after all, it seems, but yours—you and your Lock Hospital. +It is against the Anglo-Saxon spirit to admit panders into society."</p> + +<p>"Oh, she told you about that, did she, the meddling busybody!" he +answered coolly. "I was afraid they would, some of them, damn them! and +I knew you would go into hysterics. She didn't tell you the necessity +for it, I suppose, nor the good it is doing; but I will; so just listen +to me, then you'll see perhaps that I know more about it than these +canting sentimentalists."</p> + +<p>Beth, sitting in judgment on him, set her mouth and listened +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_400" id="Page_400">[Pg 400]</a></span> in silence +until he stopped. In his own defence he gave her many revolting details +couched in the coarsest language.</p> + +<p>"But then, in the name of justice," she exclaimed, "what means do you +take to protect those poor unfortunate women from disease? What do you +do to the men who spread it? What becomes of diseased men?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, they marry, I suppose. Anyhow, that is not my business. Doctors +can't be expected to preach morals. Sanitation is our business."</p> + +<p>"But aren't morals closely connected with sanitation?" Beth said. "And +why, if sanitation is your business, do you take no radical measures +with regard to this horrible disease? Why do you not have it reported, +never mind who gets it, as scarlet fever, smallpox, and other +diseases—all less disastrous to the general health of the +community—are reported?"</p> + +<p>Dan shrugged his shoulders. "It's a deuced awkward thing for a man to be +suspected of disease. It's a stigma, and might spoil his prospects. +Women are so cursedly prying nowadays. They've got wind of its being +incurable, and many a one won't marry a man if a suspicion of it +attaches to him."</p> + +<p>"I see," said Beth. "The principles of the medical profession with +regard to sanitation when women are in question seem to be peculiar. I +wish to Heaven I had known them sooner." She hid her face in her hands, +and suddenly burst into tears.</p> + +<p>Dan scowled. "Well, this is nice!" he exclaimed. "I have had a devilish +hard day's work, and come in cheery, as usual, to do my best to make +things pleasant for you, and this is the reception I get! You're a nice +pill, indeed!" He went off muttering into his dressing-room and slammed +the door.</p> + +<p>When he appeared in the drawing-room, he found Beth and Bertha chatting +together as usual, and as, during the rest of the evening, he could +detect no difference in Beth's manner, he congratulated himself that she +was going to accept the position as inevitable, and say no more about +it. It was not Beth's way to return to a disagreeable subject once it +had been discussed, unless she meant to do something in the matter, and +Dan conceived that there was nothing to be done in this instance. He +considered that he was not the sort of man it was safe for women to +interfere with, and he guessed she knew it!</p> + +<p>He was mistaken, however, when he supposed that she had let the subject +drop, and was going to resign herself to an invidious position. She was +merely letting it lapse until she understood it. It was all as new to +her as it was horrifying, and she required time to study both sides of +the question. Her own sense of justice was too acute to let her accept +at +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_401" id="Page_401">[Pg 401]</a></span> + once the accusation that so-called civilised men, who boast of their +chivalrous protection of the "weaker sex," had imposed upon women a +special public degradation, while the most abandoned and culpable of +their own sex were not only allowed to go unpunished, but to spread vice +and disease where they listed. The iniquitous injustice and cruelty of +it all made her sick and sorry for men, and reluctant to believe it.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>A few days after Mrs. Kilroy's visit, Mrs. Carne called on Beth. Mrs. +Carne always followed the county people. To her they were a sacred set. +Her faith in all they did was touching and sincere. The stupidest remark +of the stupidest county lady impressed her more than the most brilliant +wit of a professional man's wife. When she stayed at a country-house, +whatever the tone of it, she felt like a shriven saint, so uplifted was +she by reverence for rank. On finding, therefore, that some of the most +influential ladies in the county were diffidently anxious to win Beth +into their set, rather than prepared to admit her with confident +patronage, as Mrs. Carne would have expected, it was natural that she +should revise her own opinion of Beth, and also seek to cultivate her +acquaintance.</p> + +<p>She called in the morning by way of being friendly; but Beth, who was +hard at work at the time, did not feel grateful for the attention. Minna +showed Mrs. Carne straight into the dining-room, where Beth usually +worked now that Bertha was on the premises. Bertha happened to be out +that morning, and Mrs. Carne surprised Beth sitting alone at a table +covered with books and papers.</p> + +<p>"And so the little woman is going to be a great one!" Mrs. Carne +exclaimed playfully. "Well, I <i>was</i> surprised to hear it! I know I am +not flattering to my own discernment when I say so; but there! I should +never have supposed you were a genius. You are such a quiet little +mouse, you know, you don't give yourself away much, if you will excuse +the expression! I always say what I think."</p> + +<p>"I hope you will not call me a genius again, Mrs. Carne," Beth said +stiffly. "All exaggeration is distasteful to me."</p> + +<p>"And to me, too, my dear child," Mrs. Carne hastened to assure her +blandly. "But I always say what I think, you know."</p> + +<p>Beth fixed her eyes on the clock absently.</p> + +<p>When Dan came in to lunch that day, he seemed pleased to hear that Mrs. +Carne had been.</p> + +<p>"What had she to say for herself?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"She said 'I always say what I think,'" Beth replied; "until +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_402" id="Page_402">[Pg 402]</a></span> it struck +me that 'I always say what I think' is a person who only thinks +disagreeable things."</p> + +<p>"Well, <i>I</i> like her," said Dan; "and I always get on with her. If she's +going to show up friendly at last, I hope you won't snub her. We can't +afford to make enemies, according to your own account," he concluded +significantly. "What do you think of her, Miss Petterick?" he added, by +way of giving a pleasanter turn to the conversation. He and his patient +always addressed each other with much formality. Beth asked him once in +private why he was so stiff with Bertha, and he explained that he +thought it wiser, as a medical man, not to be at all familiar; formality +helped to keep up his authority.</p> + +<p>"I have had no opportunity of thinking anything about her," Bertha +rejoined. "She has never spoken to me. I have heard her speak, though, +and like her voice. It's so cooing. She makes me think of a dove."</p> + +<p>"And I shouldn't be surprised to find," said Beth, with cruel insight, +"that, like the dove, she conceals a villainous disposition and +murderous proclivities by charms of manner and a winning voice. What are +you going to do this afternoon, Bertha?"</p> + +<p>Bertha glanced at Dan. "I am going to read 'The Moonstone' out in the +garden the whole afternoon," she replied.</p> + +<p>"Then you won't mind if I disappear till tea-time?" said Beth. "I want +to do some work upstairs."</p> + +<p>"No, I would rather be alone," Bertha answered frankly. "That book's +entrancing."</p> + +<p>"I shall go round on foot this afternoon, for exercise," Dan announced +as he left the room.</p> + +<p>Beth saw Bertha settled on a seat in the garden, and then retired to her +secret chamber. She had not yet come to any conclusion with regard to +Mrs. Kilroy's invitation, and she felt it was time she decided. She took +her sewing, her accustomed aid to thought, and sat down on a high chair +near the window. She always sat on a high chair, that she might not be +enervated by lolling; that was one of her patient methods of +self-discipline; and while she meditated, she did quantities of work for +herself, making, mending, remodelling, that she might get all the wear +possible out of her clothes, and not add a penny she could help to those +terrible debts, the thought of which had weighed on her youth, and +threatened to crush all the spirit out of her ever since her marriage. +Dan had never considered her too young to be worried.</p> + +<p>From where she sat she could see Bertha on a seat just below, with "The +Moonstone" on her lap, but Bertha could not see her because of the +curtain of creepers that covered the iron rail +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_403" id="Page_403">[Pg 403]</a></span> which formed a little +balcony round the window. Besides, it was supposed that that was a blank +window. It was the only one on that side of the house, too, and Bertha +had settled herself in that secluded corner of the garden precisely +because she thought she could not be overlooked.</p> + +<p>Beth glanced at her from time to time mechanically, but without thinking +of her. It struck her at last, however, that Bertha had never opened her +book, which seemed odd after the special point she had made of being +left alone to read it undisturbed. Then Beth noticed that she seemed to +be on the look-out, as if she were expecting something or somebody; and +presently Dan appeared, walking quickly and with a furtive air, as if he +were afraid of being seen. Bertha flushed crimson and became all smiles +as soon as she saw him. Beth's work dropped on her lap, she clasped her +hands on it, her own face flushed, and her breath became laboured. Dan, +after carefully satisfying himself that there was nobody about, sat down +beside Bertha, put his arm round her waist, and kissed her. She giggled, +and made a feeble feint of protesting. Then he took a jewel-case from +his pocket, opened it, and held it out to her admiring gaze. It +contained a handsome gold bracelet, which he presently clasped on her +arm. She expressed her gratitude by lifting up her face to be kissed. +Then he put his arm round her again, and she sat with her head on his +shoulder, and they began to talk; but the conversation was interrupted +by frequent kisses.</p> + +<p>Beth had seen enough. She turned her back to the window, and sat quite +still with her hands clasped before her. It was her first experience of +that parasite, the girl who fastens herself on a married woman, accepts +all that she can get from her in the way of hospitality and kindness, +and treacherously repays her by taking her husband for a lover. Beth +pitied Bertha, but with royal contempt. It all seemed so sordid and +despicable. Jealous she was not. "Jealousy is a want of faith in one's +self," she had said to Bertha's mother once, and now, in the face of +this provocation, she was of the same mind. She had no words to express +her scorn for a man who is false to his obligations, nor for the petty +frauds and deceits which had made the position of those two tenable. As +for Dan, he was beneath contempt; but—"I shall succeed!" The words +sprang to her lips triumphantly. "Let him wallow with his own kind in +congenial mire as much as he likes. No wonder he suspects me! But I—I +shall succeed!"</p> + +<p>Meanwhile down in the garden Dan was gurgling to Bertha: "What should I +do without you, darling? Life wasn't worth having till I knew you. I +won't say a word against Beth. She has her good points, as you know, and +I believe she means well; +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_404" id="Page_404">[Pg 404]</a></span> + but she's spoilt my life, and my career too. +I'm one that requires a lot of sympathy; but she never shows me any. She +thinks of nobody but herself. Her own mother always said so. And after +all I've done for her too! If only you knew! But of course I can't blow +my own trumpet. They're all alike in that family, though. Her mother +used to keep me playing cards till I was ruined. And Beth has no +gratitude, and you can't trust her. She comes of a lying lot, and I'm of +the same mind as my old father, who used to say he'd rather have a thief +any day than a liar. You can watch a thief, but you can't watch a liar."</p> + +<p>"Still, Dan," Bertha murmured, "I somehow think you ought to stick to +her."</p> + +<p>"So I would," said Dan. "No one can accuse me of not sticking to my +duty. I'm an honourable man. It was she who cast me off. I'm nothing to +her. And I should have been broken-hearted but for you, Bertha, I should +indeed." Dan's fine eyes filled with tears, which Bertha tenderly wiped +away.</p> + +<p>"Of course it makes a great difference her having cast <i>you</i> off," +Bertha conceded, after a little interlude.</p> + +<p>"It makes <i>all</i> the difference," Dan rejoined. "She set me at liberty, +and you are free too; so who have we to consider but ourselves? I admire +a woman who has the pluck to be free!" he added enthusiastically.</p> + +<p>"Then why don't you encourage Beth more to go her own way?" Bertha +reasonably demanded. "She's always yearning for a career."</p> + +<p>Dan hesitated. "Because I've been a fool, I think," he said at last. +"I'll encourage her now, though. It would be a great blessing to us if +she could get started as a writer. I see that now. She'd think of +nothing else. And it would be a blessing to her too," he added +feelingly.</p> + +<p>"That's what I like about you, Dan," Bertha observed. "You always make +every allowance for her, and consider her interests, although she has +treated you badly."</p> + +<p>Dan pressed her hand to his lips. "I'll do what I can for her, you may +be sure," he said, quite melted by his own magnanimity. "I wish I could +do more. But she's been extravagant, and my means are dreadfully +crippled."</p> + +<p>"Then why do you buy me such handsome presents, you naughty man?" Bertha +playfully demanded, holding up her arm with the bracelet on it.</p> + +<p>"I must have a holiday sometimes," he rejoined. "Besides, I happen to be +expecting a handsome cheque, an unusual occurrence, by any post now."</p> + +<p>Beth's dividends were due that day. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_405" id="Page_405">[Pg 405]</a></span></p> + +<p>Just as dinner was announced, Beth swept into the drawing-room in the +best evening dress she had, a diaphonous black, set off by turquoise +velvet, a combination which threw the beautiful milk-white of her skin +into delicate relief. There was a faint flush on her face; on her +forehead and neck the tendrils of her soft brown hair seemed to have +taken on an extra crispness of curl, and her eyes were sparkling. She +had never looked better. Bertha Petterick, in her common handsomeness, +was as a barmaid accustomed to beer beside a gentlewoman of exceptional +refinement. She wore the showy bracelet Dan had given her that +afternoon, and it shone conspicuous in its tawdry newness on her arm; +her dress was tasteless too, and badly put on, and altogether she +contrasted unfavourably with Beth, and Dan observed it.</p> + +<p>"Are you expecting any one in particular to-night?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"No," Beth answered smiling. "I dressed for my own benefit. Nothing +moves me to self-satisfaction like a nice dress. I have not enjoyed the +pleasure much since I married. But I am going to begin now, and have a +good time."</p> + +<p>She turned as she spoke and led the way to the dining-room alone. Dr. +Maclure absently offered his arm to Miss Petterick. He was puzzled to +know what this sudden fit of self-assertion, combined with an +unaccountable burst of high spirits on Beth's part, might portend. To +conceal a certain uneasiness, he became extra facetious, not to say +coarse. There was a public ball coming off in a few days, and he +persisted in speaking of it as "The Dairy Show."</p> + +<p>"Don't you begin to feel excited about it? I do!" Miss Petterick said to +Beth. "I wish it were to-night."</p> + +<p>"I am indifferent," Beth answered blandly, "because I am not going."</p> + +<p>"Not going!" Dan exclaimed. "Then who's to chaperon me?"</p> + +<p>"I should scarcely suppose," Beth answered, looking at him meditatively, +"that you are in the stage of innocence which makes a chaperon +necessary. Bertha, how you are loving that new bracelet! You've done +nothing but fidget with it ever since we sat down."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" Bertha answered archly, "you want to know where I got it, Madam +Curious! Well, I'll tell you. It was sent me only to-day—by my young +man!"</p> + +<p>Dan looked at his plate complacently, but presently Beth saw a glance of +intelligence flash between them—a glance such as she had often seen +them exchange before, but had not understood; and she was thankful that +she had not!—thankful that she had been able to live so long with Dr. +Maclure without entertaining a single suspicion, without thinking one +low thought +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_406" id="Page_406">[Pg 406]</a></span> + about him. It was a hopeful triumph of cultivated +nice-mindedness over the most evil communications.</p> + +<p>When they were at dessert, the postman's knock resounded sharply. Dr. +Maclure, who had been anxiously listening for it, and was peeling a pear +for Miss Petterick at the moment, waited with the pear and the knife +upheld in his hands, watching the door till the servant entered. She +brought a letter on a salver, and was taking it to her master, when Beth +said authoritatively, "That letter is for me, Minna; bring it here."</p> + +<p>The girl obeyed.</p> + +<p>Dan put down the knife and the pear. "What's yours is mine, I thought," +he observed, with a sorry affectation of cheeriness.</p> + +<p>"Not on this occasion," Beth answered quietly, taking up the letter and +opening it as she spoke. "This happens to be peculiarly my own."</p> + +<p>"Why, it's a cheque," he rejoined, with an affectation of surprise. +"What luck! I haven't been able to sleep for nights thinking of the +butcher's bill."</p> + +<p>"For shame!" Beth said, bantering—"talking about bills before your +guest! But since you introduced the subject I may add that the butcher +must wait. I want this myself. I am going to stay with Mrs. Kilroy at +Ilverthorpe on Wednesday, and it will just cover my expenses."</p> + +<p>"This is the first I have heard of the visit," Dan ejaculated.</p> + +<p>"I only decided to go this afternoon," Beth replied.</p> + +<p>"You decided without consulting me? Well—I'm damned if you shall go; I +shall not allow it."</p> + +<p>"The word 'allow' is obsolete in the matrimonial dictionary, friend +Daniel," Beth rejoined good-humouredly.</p> + +<p>"But you are bound to obey me."</p> + +<p>"And I'm ready to obey you when you endow me with all your worldly +goods," she said; then, suddenly dropping her bantering tone, she spoke +decidedly: "I am going to stay with Mrs. Kilroy on Wednesday, understand +that at once, and do not let us have any vulgar dispute about it."</p> + +<p>"But you can't leave Miss Petterick here alone with me!" he +remonstrated.</p> + +<p>"No, but she can go home," Beth answered coolly. "Her mother wants her, +you know, and I have written to tell her to expect her to-morrow. Now, +if you please, we will end the discussion."</p> + +<p>She put the letter in her pocket, and began to crack nuts and eat them. +But Dan could not keep away from the subject. "Gad!" he ejaculated, "I +thought they'd get hold of you, that lot, and flatter you, and make a +convenience of you—that's what +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_407" id="Page_407">[Pg 407]</a></span> + they do! <i>I</i> know them! They think +you're clever—how easy it is to be mistaken! But you'll see for +yourself in time, and then you'll believe me—when it's too late. For +then you'll have got your name mixed up with them, and you'll not get +over that, I can tell you—they are well known for a nice lot. Your Mrs. +Kilroy was notorious before she married. She was Angelica +Hamilton-Wells, and she and her brother were called the Heavenly Twins. +They are grandchildren of that blackguard old Duke of Morningquest. +Nobody ever speaks of any of the family with the slightest respect. It's +well known that Miss Hamilton-Wells asked old Kilroy to marry her, and +when a girl has to do that, you may guess what she is! But they are all +besmirched, that lot," Dan concluded with his most high-minded manner +on.</p> + +<p>"I never believe anything I hear against anybody," said Beth, +unconsciously quoting Ideala; "so please spare me the recital of all +invidious stories."</p> + +<p>"You'll only believe what suits yourself, I know," he said. "And I've no +doubt you'll enjoy yourself. Galbraith will be there, and Mr. Theodore +Hamilton-Wells, the fair-haired 'Diavolo,' who will suit your book +exactly, I should think."</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon?" said Beth politely.</p> + +<p>Dan poured himself out another glass of wine, and said no more.</p> + +<p>He and Bertha managed to have a moment's conversation together before +they retired that night.</p> + +<p>"What does it mean?" Bertha anxiously demanded. "Does she suspect +anything?"</p> + +<p>"God knows!" Dan said piously, then added, after a moment's +consideration, "How the devil can she? We've played our cards too well +for that! No, she's just bent on making mischief; that's the kind of +pill she is. If she keeps that money it will be downright robbery. But +now you see what I have to put up with, and you can judge for yourself +if I deserve it."</p> + +<p>When he went to Beth, however, he assumed a very different tone. He +entered the room with an air of deep dejection, and found her sitting +beside her dressing-table in a white wrapper, reading quietly. She +smiled when she saw his pose. It was what she had expected.</p> + +<p>"I can't do without that money, Beth, on my word," he began plaintively. +"I've been reckoning on it. I wouldn't take it from you, God knows, if I +could help it; but I'm sore pressed." He took out his handkerchief and +wiped his eyes, imagining that he still had to deal with the gentle +sensitive girl, upon whom he had imposed so long and so successfully.</p> + +<p>Beth watched him a moment with contempt, and then she laughed. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_408" id="Page_408">[Pg 408]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It is no use, friend Daniel," she said in her neat, incisive, +straightforward way. "I am not going to take you seriously any more. I +am neither to be melted by your convenient tears, nor dismayed by your +bogey bills. I have never seen any of those bills, by the way; the next +time you mention them, please produce them. Let us be business-like. And +in the meantime, just understand, once for all, like a good man, that I +am not going to be domineered over by you as if I were a common degraded +wife with every spark of spirit and self-respect crushed out of me by +one brutal exaction or another. I shall do my duty—do my best to meet +your reasonable wishes; but I will submit to no ordering and no sort of +exaction." She rose and faced him. "And as we are coming to an +understanding," she pursued, "just explain. Why did you tell me that +Miss Petterick was to be a paying patient?"</p> + +<p>"I never told you anything of the kind," said Dan, losing his head, and +lying stupidly in his astonishment.</p> + +<p>Beth shrugged her shoulders. "It is your own business," she +rejoined—"at least it is you who will have to pay for her +entertainment."</p> + +<p>She returned to her book as she spoke, and continued to read with +apparent calmness.</p> + +<p>Now that she had taken up her position, she found herself quite strong +enough to hold it against any Dan Maclure or Bertha Petterick. But Beth +was being forced into an ugly and vulgar phase, and she knew and +resented it, and was filled with dismay. She was taking on something of +the colour of her surroundings involuntarily, inevitably, as certain +insects do, in self-defence. She had spoken to Dan in his own tone in +order to make him understand her; but was it necessary? Surely if she +had resisted the impulse to try that weapon, she might have found +another as effective, the use of which would not have compromised her +gentlehood and lessened her self-esteem. Her dissatisfaction with +herself for the part she had played was a cruel ache, and she thanked +Heaven for the chance which would mercifully remove her from that evil +atmosphere for a while, and prayed for time to reflect, for strength to +be her better self. She was angry with herself, and grieved because she +had fought Dan with his own weapons, and it did not occur to her for her +comfort that she had only done so because he was invulnerable to that +which she would naturally have used—earnest, reasonable, calm +discussion—and that fight him she must with something, somehow, or sink +for ever down to the degraded level required of their wives by husbands +of his way of thinking. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_409" id="Page_409">[Pg 409]</a></span></p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLIV" id="CHAPTER_XLIV"></a>CHAPTER XLIV</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ilverthorpe</span> was at the other side of the county, + and Beth had to go from +Slane to Morningquest by train in order to get there. Dan continued to +be disagreeable in private about her going, but he took her to the +station, and saw her off, so that the public might know what an +admirable husband he was.</p> + +<p>On his way from the station he met Sir George Galbraith, and greeted him +with effusion.</p> + +<p>"I hope you were coming to see us," he said, "for that would show that +you don't forget our humble existence. But my wife isn't at home, I am +sorry to say. She has just gone to stay with Mrs. Kilroy."</p> + +<p>Sir George looked keenly at him. "I hope she is quite well," he said +formally.</p> + +<p>"Not too well," Dan answered lugubriously; "and that is why I encouraged +her to go. The fact is, Sir George, I think I've been making a mistake +with Beth. My mother was my perfection of a woman. She didn't care much +for books; but she had good sound common-sense, and she attended to her +husband and her household, and preferred to stay at home; and I confess +I wanted my wife to be like her. Especially I wanted to keep her +pure-minded and unsuspicious of evil; and <i>that</i> she could not remain if +she got drawn into Mrs. Kilroy's set, and mixed up with the questions +about which women are now agitating themselves. I know you're with them +and not with me in the matter, but you'll allow for my point of view. +Well, with regard to Beth, I find I've made a mistake. I should have let +her follow her own bent, see for herself, and become a woman of the day +if she's so minded. As it is, she is growing morbid for want of an +outlet, and hanging back herself, and it is I who have to urge her on. +It's an heroic operation so far as I'm concerned, for the whole thing is +distasteful to me; but I shall go through with it, and let her be as +independent as she likes."</p> + +<p>"This sounds like self-sacrifice," said Sir George. "I sincerely hope it +may answer. We are going different ways, I think. Good-morning." He +raised his hand to his hat in a perfunctory way, and hurried off. The +next time he saw Mrs. Kilroy, he described this encounter with Dr. +Maclure.</p> + +<p>"This is a complete change of front," said Angelica; "what does it +mean?"</p> + +<p>"When a man of that kind tells his wife to make the most of her life in +her own way and be independent, he means '<i>Don't bother me; another +woman is the delight of my senses!</i>' When he +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_410" id="Page_410">[Pg 410]</a></span> + says to the other woman +'<i>Be free!</i>' he means '<i>Throw yourself into my arms!</i>'"</p> + +<p>Angelica sighed. "Poor Beth!" she said, "what a fate to be tied to that +plausible hog!"</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>From having been so much shut up in herself, Beth showed very little of +the contrasts of her temperament on the surface,—her joy in life, her +moments of exaltation, of devotion, of confidence, of harshness, of +tenderness; her awful fits of depression, her doubts, her fears, her +self-distrust; her gusts of passion, and the disconnected impulses +wedged into the well-disciplined routine of a consistent life, ordered +for the most part by principle, reason, and reflection. Few people, +meeting her casually, would have suspected any contrasts at all; and +even of those who knew her best, only one now and then appreciated the +rate at which the busy mind was working, and the changes wrought by the +growth which was continually in progress beneath her equable demeanour. +Those about her, for want of discernment, expected nothing of her, and +suffered shocks of surprise in consequence, which they resented, blaming +her for their own defects.</p> + +<p>But it was of much more importance to Beth that she should be able to +pass on with ease from one thing to another than that she should have +the approval of people who would have had her stay where they found her, +not for her benefit, but for their own convenience in classifying her. +Beth made stepping-stones of her knowledge of other people rather than +of her own dead self. She picked to pieces the griefs they brought upon +her, dissected them, and moralised upon them; and, in so doing, forgot +the personal application. While in the midst of what might have been her +own life tragedy, she compared herself with those who had been through +theirs and did not seem a bit the worse or the better, which observation +stimulated her fortitude; when she contemplated the march of events, +that mighty army of atoms, any one of which may be in command of us for +a time, none remaining so for ever under healthy conditions, she +perceived that life is lived in detail, not in the abstract. The kind of +thing that makes the backbone of a three-volume novel, is but a phase or +an incident; everything is but an incident with all of us, a heart-break +to-day, a recollection to-morrow, a source of encouragement and of +inspiration eventually perhaps; the which, if some would remember, there +would be less despair and fewer suicides. The recognition of this fact +had helped Beth's sense of proportion and was making her philosophical. +She believed that life could be lived so as to make the joys as +inevitable as the sorrows. We are apt to cultivate our sense of pleasure +less than our +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_411" id="Page_411">[Pg 411]</a></span> + sense of suffering, by appreciating small pleasures +little, while heeding small pains excessively. Beth's deliberate +intention, as well as her natural impulse, was to reverse this in her +own case as much as possible; she would not let her physical sense of +well-being on a fine morning and her intellectual delight in a good mood +for work be spoilt because of some trouble of the night before. The +trouble she would set aside so that it might not detract from the +pleasure.</p> + +<p>But fine mornings and good moods for work had not come to her aid since +she discovered the mean treachery of Dan and Bertha, and when she left +Slane she was still oppressed by the sense of their hypocrisy and +deceit. As the train bore her swiftly away from them both, however, her +spirits rose. The sun shone, the country looked lovely in its autumn +bravery of tint and tone; she felt well, and the contemplation of such +people as Dan and Bertha was not elevating; they must out of her mind +like any other unholy thought, that she might be worthy to associate +with the loyal ladies and noble gentlemen whose hands were outheld to +help her. The people we cling to are those with whom we find ourselves +most at home. It is not the people who amuse us that we like best, but +those who stir our deeper emotions, rouse in us possibilities of +generous feeling which lie latent for the most part, and give form to +our higher aspirations; and Beth anticipated with a happy heart that it +was with such she was bound to abide.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Kilroy met her at the station at Morningquest. "What a bonny thing +you are!" she exclaimed in her queer abrupt way. "I didn't realise it +till I saw you walking up the platform towards me. There's a cart to +take your luggage to Ilverthorpe. Do you mind coming to lunch with Mrs. +Orton Beg? She has a dear little house in the Close, and we thought you +might like to see the Cathedral. Here's the carriage. No, you get in +first."</p> + +<p>"But does Mrs. Orton Beg want me?" Beth asked when they were seated.</p> + +<p>"We all want you," said Mrs. Kilroy, "if you will forgive our first +mistake with regard to you, and come out of yourself and be one of us. +And you'll be specially fond of Mrs. Orton Beg when you know her, I +fancy. She's just sweet! She used to hate our works and ways, and be +very conventional; but Edith Beale's marriage opened her eyes. She would +never have believed that men countenanced such an iniquity had she not +seen it herself. The first effect of the shock was to narrow her +judgment and make her severe on men generally; but she will get over +that in time. Man, like woman, is too big a subject to generalise about. +He has his faults, you know, but he must be educated; that is +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_412" id="Page_412">[Pg 412]</a></span> all he +wants. He must be taught to have a better opinion of himself. At +present, he wallows because he thinks he can't keep out of the mire; but +of course he can when he learns how. He's not a bit worse than woman +naturally, only he has a lower opinion of himself, and that keeps him +down. With his training we shouldn't be a bit better than he is. In all +things that concern men and women, you dear, you will find that, when +they start fair, one is not a bit better or worse than the other. Here +we are."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Orton Beg came into the hall to greet her guest. She was a slender, +elegant, middle-aged woman, in graceful black draperies, with hair +prematurely grey, and a face that had always been interesting, but never +handsome—a refined, intellectual, but not strong face; the face of a +patient, self-contained, long-enduring person, of settled purpose, +slowly arrived at, and then not easily shaken. She welcomed Beth +cordially, and placed her at table so that she might look out at the old +grey Cathedral. It was the first time Beth had seen it, and she could +have lost herself in the sensation of realising its traditions, its +beauty, and its age; but the conversation went on briskly, and she had +to take her part. Lady Fulda Guthrie, an aunt of Mrs. Kilroy's, was the +only other guest. She was a beautiful saint, with a soul which had +already progressed as far as the most spiritual part of Catholicism +could take it, and she could get no farther in this incarnation.</p> + +<p>"I hope you are prepared to discuss any and every thing, Mrs. Maclure," +Mrs. Orton Beg warned Beth; "for that is what you will find yourself +called upon to do among us. The peculiarity of man is that he will do +the most atrocious things without compunction, but would be shocked if +he were called upon to discuss them. Do what you like, is his principle, +but don't mention it; people form their opinions in discussion, and +opinions are apt to be adverse. Our principle is very much the +opposite."</p> + +<p>"I have just begun to know the necessity for open discussion," Beth +answered tranquilly. "I do not see how we can arrive at happiness in +life if we do not try to discover the sources of misery. I know of +nothing that earnest men and women should hesitate to discuss openly on +proper occasions."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm thankful to hear you say 'men and women,'" Angelica broke in. +"That is the right new spirit! Let us help one another. Any attempt to +separate the interests of the sexes, as women here and there, and men +generally, would have them separated, is fatal to the welfare of the +whole race. The efforts of foolish people to divide the interests of men +and women make me writhe—as if we were not utterly bound up in one +another, and destined to rise or fall together! But this woman movement +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_413" id="Page_413">[Pg 413]</a></span> +is towards the perfecting of life, not towards the disruption of it. I +asked a sympathetic woman the other day why she took no part in it, and +she answered profoundly, 'Because I am a part <i>of</i> it.' And I am sure +she was right. I am sure it is evolutionary. It is an effort of the race +to raise itself a step higher in the scale of being. For see what it +resolves itself into! Men respond to what women expect of them. When +warriors were the women's ideal, men were warriors. When women preferred +knights, priests, or troubadours, a man's ambition was to be a knight, +priest, or troubadour. When women thought drunkenness fine, men were +drunken. Now women want husbands of a nobler nature, strong in all the +attributes, moral and physical, of the perfect man, that their children +may be noble too, and thus the ascent of man to higher planes of being +become assured."</p> + +<p>"Great is the power of thought," said Lady Fulda. "By thinking these +things the race is evolving them. Thought married to suggestion is a +creative force. If the race believed it would have wings; in the course +of ages wings would come of the faith."</p> + +<p>"And discussion is not enough," Beth resumed. "We should experiment. It +is very well to hold opinions and set up theories, but opinions and +theories are alike valueless until they are tested by experiment."</p> + +<p>"I see you are a true radical," said Mrs. Orton Beg. "You would go to +the root of the matter."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, I am a radical in that sense of the word," Beth answered. "I +have a horror of conservatism. Nothing is stationary. All things are +always in a state of growth or decay; and conservatism is a state of +decay."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Angelica. "That is very true, especially as applied to +women—if they are ever to advance."</p> + +<p>"Then don't you think they are advancing?" Beth asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Angelica, "but not as much as they might. When you mix more +with them in the way of work you will be disheartened. Women are their +own worst enemies just now. They don't follow their leaders loyally and +consistently; they have little idea of discipline; their tendency is to +go off on side issues and break up into little cliques. They are largely +actuated by petty personal motives, by petty jealousies, by pettinesses +of all kinds. One amongst them will arise here and there, and do +something great that is an honour to them all; but they do not honour +her for it—perhaps because something in the way she dresses, or some +trick of manner, does not meet with the approval of the majority. Women +are for ever stumbling over trifling details. To prove themselves right +pleases them better than to arrive at the truth; and a vulgar personal +triumph is of more +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_414" id="Page_414">[Pg 414]</a></span> + moment than the triumph of a great cause. In these +things they are practically not a bit better than men."</p> + +<p>"They seem worse, in fact, because we expect so much more of them in the +way of loyalty and disinterestedness," said Mrs. Orton Beg; "and their +power is so much greater, too, in social matters; when they misuse it, +they do much more harm. This will not always be so, of course. As their +minds expand, they will see and understand better. At present they do +not know enough to appreciate their own deficiencies—they do not +measure the weakness of their vacillations by comparing it with the +steady strength of purpose that prevails; and, for want of +comprehension, they aim their silly animadversions to-day at some one +whose work they are glad enough to profit by to-morrow; they make the +task of a benefactress so hard that they kill her, and then they give +her a public funeral. I pity them!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, do not be hasty," said Lady Fulda. "Human beings are not like packs +of cards, to be shuffled into different combinations at will and nobody +the worse. There are feelings to be considered. The old sores must be +tenderly touched even by those who would heal them. And when we uproot +we must be careful to replant under more favourable conditions; when we +demolish we should be prepared to rebuild, or no comfort will come of +the changes. These things take time, and are best done deliberately, and +even then the most cautious make their mistakes. But, still, I believe +that the force which is carrying us along is the force that makes for +righteousness. We women have in our minds now what will culminate in the +recognition by future generations of the beauty of goodness. Woman is to +be the mother of God in Man."</p> + +<p>Beth's heart swelled at the words. This attitude was new to her; and yet +all that was said she seemed to have heard before, and known from the +first. And she knew more also, away back in that region beyond time and +space to which she had access, and where she found herself at happy +moments transported by an impulse outside herself, which she could not +control by any effort of will. That day, with those new friends, she +felt like one who returns to a happy home after weary wanderings, and is +warmly welcomed. A great calm settled upon her spirit. She said little +the whole time, but sat, sure of their sympathetic tolerance, and +listened to them with that living light of interest in her eyes to which +the heart responds with confidence more surely than to any spoken word. +The evil influences which had held her tense at Slane had no power to +trouble her here. She was high enough above Dan and Bertha to look down +upon them dispassionately, knowing them for what they were, yet +personally unaffected by their turpitude. It was as if she had heard of +some +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_415" id="Page_415">[Pg 415]</a></span> + bad deed, and knew it to be repulsive, a thing intolerable, +meriting punishment; yet, because it did not concern her, it had lapsed +from her thoughts like a casual paragraph read in a paper which had not +brought home to her any realisation of what it recorded.</p> + +<p>During the afternoon her mind was stored with serene +impressions—service in the venerable Cathedral; the fluting of an +anthem by a boy with a birdlike voice; some strong words from the +pulpit, not on the dry bones of doctrine, nor the doings of a barbarous +people led by a vengeful demon of perplexing attributes whom they +worshipped as a deity, but on the conduct of life—a vital subject. +Then, as they drove through the beautiful old city, there came +impressions of grey and green; grey gateways, ancient buildings, ivy, +and old trees, and, over all, sounding slow, calm, and significant, the +marvellous chime, the message which Morningquest heard hourly year by +year, and heeded no more than it heeded death at a distance or political +complications in Peru.</p> + +<p>The same party met again at Ilverthorpe, but there were others there as +well—Ideala, Mrs. Kilroy's father and mother Mr. and Lady Adeline +Hamilton-Wells, and Lady Galbraith, but not Sir George.</p> + +<p>In the drawing-room after dinner, Beth was intent upon a portfolio of +drawings, and Ideala, seeing her alone, went up to her.</p> + +<p>"Are you fond of pictures?" she said to Beth.</p> + +<p>"Yes, that is just the word," Beth answered. "I am so 'fond' of them +that even such a collection as this, which shows great industry rather +than great art, I find full of interest, and delight in. Happy for me, +perhaps, that I don't know anything about technique. Subject appeals to +my imagination as it used to do when I was a child, and loved to linger +over the pictures on old-fashioned pieces of music. Those pictures lure +me still with strange sensations such as no others make me feel. I wish +I could realise now as vividly as I realised then the beauty of that +lovely lady on the song, and the whole pathetic story—the gem that +decked her queenly brow and bound her raven hair, remained a sad +memorial of blighted love's despair; and that other young creature who +wore a wreath of roses on the night when first we met; and the one who +related that we met, 'twas in a crowd, and I thought he would shun me; +he came, I could not breathe, for his eye was upon me, and concluded +that 'twas thou that had caused me this anguish, my mother. There was +the gallant corsair, too, just stepping out of a boat, waving his hat. +His curly hair, open shirt collar, and black tie with flying ends remain +in my mind, intimately associated with Byron, young love, some who never +smiled again, the sapphire night, crisp, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_416" id="Page_416">[Pg 416]</a></span> + clear, cold, thick-strewn with +stars, all sparkling with frosty brightness—impressions I would not +exchange for art understood, or anything I am capable of feeling now +before the greatest work of art in the world—so strangely am I +blunted."</p> + +<p>"What, already!" Ideala said compassionately. "But that is only a phase. +You will come out of it, and be young again and feel strongly, which is +better than knowing, I concede. The truest appreciation of a work of art +does not take place in the head, but in the heart; not in thinking, but +in feeling. When we stand before a picture, it is not by the thoughts +formulated in the mind, but by the appreciation which suffuses our whole +being with pleasure that we should estimate it."</p> + +<p>"But isn't that a sensuous attitude?" Beth objected.</p> + +<p>"Yes, of the right kind," Ideala rejoined. "The senses have their uses, +you know. And it is exactly your attitude as a child towards the +pictures on the songs. You felt it all—all the full significance—long +before you knew it so that you could render it into words; and felt +more, probably, than you will ever be able to express. Feeling is the +first stage of fine thought."</p> + +<p>Mr. Hamilton-Wells strolled towards them. He was a rather tall, +exceedingly thin man, with straight, thick, grey-brown hair, parted in +the middle, and plastered down on either side of his head. He was +dressed in black velvet. His long thin white hands were bedecked with +handsome antique rings, art treasures in their way. One intaglio, carved +in red coral, caught the eye especially, on the first finger of his +right hand. As he talked he had a trick of shaking his hands back with a +gesture that suggested lace ruffles getting in the way, and in his whole +appearance and demeanour there was something that recalled the days when +velvet and lace were in vogue for gentlemen. He spoke with great +preciseness, and it was not always possible to be sure that he at all +appreciated the effect of the extraordinary remarks he was in the habit +of making; which apparent obliviousness enabled him to discourse about +many things without offence which other people were obliged to leave +unmentioned.</p> + +<p>"Nowadays, when I see two ladies together in a corner, talking +earnestly," he observed, "I always suspect that they are discussing the +sex question."</p> + +<p>"Oh, the sex question!" Ideala exclaimed. "I am sick of sex! Sex is a +thing to be endured or enjoyed, not to be discussed."</p> + +<p>"Indeed!" said Mr. Hamilton-Wells, nodding slowly, as if in profound +consideration, and shaking back his imaginary ruffles. "Is that your +opinion, Mrs. Maclure?"</p> + +<p>"I keep a separate compartment in my mind for the sex +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_417" id="Page_417">[Pg 417]</a></span> question," Beth +answered, colouring—"a compartment which has to be artificially +lighted. There is no ray of myself that would naturally penetrate to it. +When I take up a book, and find that it is nothing but <i>she was +beautiful, he loved her</i>, I put it down again with a groan. The monotony +of the subject palls upon me. It is the stock-in-trade of every author, +as if there were nothing of interest in the lives of men and women but +their sexual relations."</p> + +<p>"Indeed, yes," said Mr. Hamilton-Wells, with bland deliberation, "but +society thinks of nothing else. Blatant sexuality is the predominant +characteristic of the upper classes, and the rage for the sexual passion +is principally set up and fostered by a literature inflated with +sexuality, and by costumes which seem to be designed for the purpose. In +the evening, now, just think! Even quite elderly ladies, with a laudable +desire to please, offer themselves in evening dress—and a very great +deal of themselves sometimes—to the eye that may be attracted."</p> + +<p>When he had spoken, he shook back his imaginary ruffles, brought his +hands together in front of him with the fingers tip to tip in a pious +attitude, and strolled up the long room slowly, shaking his head at +intervals with an intent expression, as if he were praying for society.</p> + +<p>"What a bomb!" Beth gasped. "Is he always so?"</p> + +<p>"Generally," Ideala rejoined. "And I can never make out whether he means +well, but is stupid and tactless, or whether he delights to spring such +explosives on inoffensive people. He sits on a Board of Guardians +composed of ladies and gentlemen, and the other day, at one of their +meetings, he proposed to remove the stigma attaching to illegitimacy. He +said that illegitimacy cannot justly be held to reflect on anybody's +conduct, since, so he had always understood, illegitimacy was birth from +natural causes."</p> + +<p>"And what happened?"</p> + +<p>Ideala slightly shrugged her shoulders. "The proposition was seriously +discussed, and a parson and one or two other members of the board +threatened to retire if he remained on it. But remain he did, and let +them retire; and I cannot help fancying that his whole object was to get +them to go. Sometimes I think that he must have a peculiar sense of +humour, which it gives him great gratification to indulge, as others do +good, by stealth. He makes questionable jests for himself only, and +enjoys them alone. But apart from this eccentricity, he is a kind and +generous man, always ready to help with time and money when there is any +good to be done."</p> + +<p>When Beth went to her room that night, she experienced a strange sense +of satisfaction which she could not account for +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_418" id="Page_418">[Pg 418]</a></span> until she found herself +alone, with no fear of being disturbed. It seemed to her then that she +had never before known what comfort was, never slept in such a +delightful bed, so fresh and cool and sweet. She was like one who has +been bathed and perfumed after the defilements of a long dusty journey, +and is able to rest in peace. As she stretched herself between the +sheets, she experienced a blessed sensation of relief, which was a +revelation to her. Until that moment, she had never quite realised the +awful oppression of her married life; the inevitable degradation of +intimate association with such a man as her husband.</p> + +<p>The next day the ladies went out to sit on the lawn together in the +shade of the trees, with their books and work. There were no sounds but +such as, in the country, seem to accentuate the quiet, and are aids, not +to thought, but to that higher faculty which awakes in the silence, and +is to thought what the mechanical instrument is to the voice.</p> + +<p>"How heavenly still it is!" Beth ejaculated. "It stirs me—fills me—how +shall I express it?—makes me cognisant in some sort—conscious of +things I don't know—things beyond all this, and even better worth our +attention. The stillness here in these surroundings has the same benign +effect on me that perfect solitude has elsewhere. What a luxury it is, +though—solitude! I mean the privilege of being alone when one feels the +necessity. I am fortunate, however," she added quickly, lest she should +seem to be making a personal complaint, "in that I have a secret chamber +all to myself, and so high up that I can almost hear what the wind +whispers to the stars to make them twinkle. I go there when I want to be +alone to think my thoughts, and no one disturbs me—not even my nearest +neighbours, the angels; though if they did sometimes, I should not +complain."</p> + +<p>"They come closer than you think, perhaps," said Lady Fulda, who had +just strolled up, with a great bunch of lilies on her arm. "Consider the +lilies," she went on, holding them out to Beth. "Look into them. Think +about them. No, though, do not think about them—feel. There is +purification in the sensation of their beauty."</p> + +<p>"Is purification always possible?" Beth said. "Can evil ever be cast out +once it has taken root in the mind?"</p> + +<p>"Are you speaking of thoughts or acts, I wonder?" Lady Fulda rejoined, +sitting down beside Beth and looking dreamily into her flowers. "You +know what we hold here: that no false step is irretrievable so long as +we desire what is perfectly right. It is not the things we know of, nor +even the things we have done, if the act is not habitual,—but the +things we approve of that brand us as bad. The woman whose principles +are formed out of a knowledge of good and evil is better, is more to be +relied +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_419" id="Page_419">[Pg 419]</a></span> + upon, than the woman who does not know enough to choose between +them. It is not what the body does, but what the mind thinks that +corrupts us."</p> + +<p>"But from certain deeds evil thoughts are inseparable," Beth sighed; +"and surely toleration of evil comes from undue familiarity with it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, if you do not keep your condemnation side by side with your +knowledge of it," Lady Fulda agreed.</p> + +<p>The night before she returned to Slane, Beth attended a meeting of the +new order which Ideala had founded. It was the first thing of the kind +she had been to, and she was much interested in the proceedings. Only +women were present. Beth was one of a semicircle of ladies who sat on +the platform behind the chair. There were subjects of grave social +importance under discussion, and most of the speaking was exceedingly +good, wise, temperate, and certainly not wanting in humour.</p> + +<p>Towards the end of the evening there was an awkward pause because a lady +who was to have spoken had not arrived. Mrs. Kilroy, who was in the +chair, looked round for some one to fill the gap, and caught Beth's eye.</p> + +<p>"May I speak?" Beth whispered eagerly, leaning over to her. "I have +something to say."</p> + +<p>Angelica nodded, gave the audience Beth's name, and then leant back in +her chair. The shorthand writers looked up indifferently, not expecting +to hear anything worth recording.</p> + +<p>Beth went forward to the edge of the platform with a look of intentness +on her delicate face, and utterly oblivious of herself, or anything else +but her subject. She never thought of asking herself if she could speak. +All she considered was what she was going to say. She clasped her +slender hands in front of her, and began, slowly, with the formula she +had heard the other speakers use: "Madam Chairman, ladies—" She paused, +then suddenly spoke out on <i>The Desecration of Marriage</i>.</p> + +<p>At the first resonant notes of her clear, dispassionate voice, there was +a movement of interest, a kind of awakening, in the hall, and the ladies +on the platform behind her, who had been whispering to each other, +writing notes and passing them about, and paying more attention to the +business of the meeting generally than to the speakers, paused and +looked up.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Ideala, with kindling eyes, leant over to Mrs. Orton Beg, +grasped her arm, and said something eagerly. Mrs. Orton Beg nodded. The +word went round. Beth held the hall, and was still rising from point to +point, carrying the audience with her to a pitch of excitement which +finally culminated in a great burst of applause.</p> + +<p>Beth, taken aback, stopped short, surprised and bewildered by +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_420" id="Page_420">[Pg 420]</a></span> the +racket; looked about her, faltered a few more words, and then sat down +abruptly.</p> + +<p>The applause was renewed and prolonged.</p> + +<p>"What does it mean?" Beth asked Ideala in an agony. "Did I say something +absurd?"</p> + +<p>"My dear child," Ideala answered, laughing, "they are not jeering, but +cheering!"</p> + +<p>"Is that cheering?" Beth exclaimed in an awe-stricken tone, overcome to +find she had produced such an effect. "I feared they meant to be +derisive."</p> + +<p>"I didn't know you were a speaker," Mrs. Orton Beg whispered.</p> + +<p>"I am not," Beth answered apologetically. "I never spoke before, nor +heard any one else speak till to-night. Only I have thought and thought +about these things, and I could not keep it back, what I had to say."</p> + +<p>"That is the stuff an orator is made of," some strange lady muttered +approvingly.</p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLV" id="CHAPTER_XLV"></a>CHAPTER XLV</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">When</span> Beth returned to Slane, Dan received +her so joyously she wondered +what particularly successful piece of turpitude he had been busy about. +He was always effusive to her when evil things went well with him. At +first she had supposed that this effusiveness was the outcome of +affection for her; but when she began to know him, she perceived that it +was only the expression of some personal gratification. He had been +quite demonstrative in his attentions to her during the time that Bertha +Petterick stayed in the house.</p> + +<p>"By the way, there is a letter for you," he said, when they were at +lunch.</p> + +<p>"Is there?" Beth answered. "Who from?"</p> + +<p>"How the devil am I to know?" he rejoined, glancing up at the +mantelpiece. "I can't tell who your correspondents are by instinct."</p> + +<p>Beth's eye followed his to the mantelpiece, where she saw a large square +envelope propped up against an ornament in a conspicuous position, and +recognised the unmistakable, big, clear, firm hand of Bertha Petterick, +and the thick kind of paper she always used.</p> + +<p>Beth had been thinking about Bertha on the way home. She knew that, if +Bertha had been as wrong in body as in mind and moral nature, she would +have had compassion on her; and she +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_421" id="Page_421">[Pg 421]</a></span> + had determined to tolerate her as +it was, to do what she could for her maimed soul, just as she would have +ministered to her had her malady been physical. But Dan's hypocrisy +about the letter ruffled her into opposition. He knew Bertha's +handwriting as well as she did, and was doubtless equally well +acquainted with the contents of the letter; and this affectation of +ignorance must therefore mean something special. Probably he was anxious +to propitiate her with regard to whatever Bertha might be writing about. +But Beth was not to be managed in that way, and so she let the letter +be.</p> + +<p>As she was leaving the room after lunch, Dan called after her: "You have +forgotten your letter."</p> + +<p>"It doesn't matter," Beth answered. "Any time will do for that."</p> + +<p>The letter was left there for days unopened, and it had the effect of +stopping the conversation at meals, for although Dan did not allude to +it again, he constantly glanced at it, and it was evident that he had it +on his mind.</p> + +<p>At last, one day, when he came in, he said, "I have just seen Mrs. +Petterick, and she tells me Bertha wrote to you days ago, and has had no +answer."</p> + +<p>"Indeed," Beth observed indifferently. "I shouldn't think she could have +anything to say to me that specially required an answer."</p> + +<p>Dan fidgeted about a little, then burst out suddenly, "Why the devil +don't you open the girl's letter?"</p> + +<p>"Because you pretended you didn't know who it was from," Beth said.</p> + +<p>"I declare to God I never pretended anything of the kind," Dan answered +hotly.</p> + +<p>Beth laughed. Then she went to the mantelpiece, took down the letter, +turned it over and displayed the huge monogram and scroll with "Bertha" +printed on it, with which it was bedizened, laughed again a little, and +threw the letter unopened into the fire, "There!" she said. "Let that be +an end of the letter, and Bertha Petterick too, so far as I am +concerned. She bores me, that girl; I will not be bothered with her."</p> + +<p>"Well, well!" Dan exclaimed pathetically, looking hard at the ashes of +the letter on the coals: "that's gratitude! I do my best to make an +honest living for you, and you repay me by affronting one of my best +patients. And what the unfortunate girl has done to offend you, the +devil only knows. I'm sure she would have blacked your boots for you +when she was here, she was so devoted."</p> + +<p>"She <i>was</i> pretty servile, I grant that," Beth answered dispassionately. +"But that is enough of Bertha Petterick, please. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_422" id="Page_422">[Pg 422]</a></span> Here is the butcher's +bill for the last month, and the baker's, the milk, the wine, the +groceries, all nearly doubled on Bertha's account. If adding to your +expenses in every way makes a good patient, she was excellent, +certainly. I'll leave you the bills to console you; but, if you value +your peace of mind, don't dare to worry <i>me</i> about them. You were quite +right when you said I was too young to be troubled about money matters, +and I shall not let myself be troubled—especially when they are +matters, like these bills, for which I am not responsible." She was +leaving the room as she spoke, but stopped at the door: "And, Dan," she +added, quoting his favourite phrase, "I'd be cheery if I were you. +There's nothing like being cheery. Why, look at me! I never let anything +worry me!"</p> + +<p>She left Dan speechless, and went to her secret chamber, where she sat +and suffered for an hour, blaming herself for her lightness, her +contrariness, her want of dignity, and all those faults which were the +direct consequence of Dan's evil influence. She was falling farther and +farther away from her ideal in everything, and knew it, but seemed to +have lost the power to save herself. The degeneration had begun in small +matters of discipline, apparently unimportant, but each one of +consequence, in reality, as part of her system of self-control. From the +moment we do a thing thinking it to be wrong, we degenerate. If it be a +principle that we abandon, it does not matter what the principle is, our +whole moral fibre is loosened by the gap it makes. Beth, who had +hitherto shunned easy-chairs, as Aunt Victoria had taught her, lest she +should be enervated by lolling, now began to take to them, and so lost +the strengthening effect of a wholesome effort. Other little +observances, too, little regular habits which discipline mind and body +to such good purpose, slipped from her,—such as the care of her skin +after the manner of the ladies of her family, who had been renowned for +their wonderful complexions. This had been enjoined upon her by her +mother in her early girlhood as a solemn duty, and had entailed much +self-denial in matters of food and drink, quantities being restricted, +and certain things prohibited at certain times, while others were +forbidden altogether. She had had to exercise patience, also, in the +concoction and use of delicately perfumed washes of tonic and emollient +properties, home distilled, so as to be perfectly pure; all of which had +been strictly practised by her, like sacred rites or superstitious +observances upon the exact performance of which good fortune depends. In +such matters she now became lax. And, besides the care of her person, +she neglected the care of her clothes, which had been so beneficial to +her mind; for it must be remembered that it was during those long hours +of meditation, while she sat sewing, that her reading +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_423" id="Page_423">[Pg 423]</a></span> had been +digested, her knowledge assimilated, her opinions formed, and her random +thoughts collected and arranged, ready to be turned to account on an +emergency. Until this time, too, she had kept Sunday strictly as a day +of rest. Books and work, and all else that had occupied her during the +week, were put away on Saturday night, and not taken out again until +Monday morning; and the consequence was complete mental relaxation. But +now she began to do all kinds of little things which she had hitherto +thought it wrong to do on Sunday, so that the sanitary effect of the day +of rest—or of change of occupation, for sometimes Sunday duties are +arduous—was gradually lost, and she no longer returned to her work on +Monday strengthened and refreshed. Little by little her "good reading" +was also neglected, and instead of relying upon her own resolution, as +had hitherto been her wont, she began to seek the prop of an odd cup of +tea or coffee at irregular hours, to raise her spirits if she felt down, +or stimulate her if she were out of sorts and work was not easy; all of +which tended to weaken her will. Then, by degrees, she began to lose the +balance of mind which had been wont to carry her on from one little +daily doing to another, with calm deliberation, taking them each in turn +without haste or rest, and finding time for them all. Now, the things +that she did not care about she began to do with a rush, so as to get to +her writing. She wanted to be always at that; and the consequence was a +wearing sensation, as of one who is driven to death, and has never time +enough for any single thing.</p> + +<p>But it was in these days, nevertheless, that she began to write with +decision. Hitherto, she had been merely trying her pen—feeling her way; +but now she unconsciously ceased to follow in other people's footsteps, +and struck out for herself boldly. She had come back from Ilverthorpe +with a burning idea to be expressed, and it was for the shortest, +crispest, clearest way to express it that she tried. Foreign phrases she +discarded, and she never attempted to produce an eccentric effect by +galvanising obsolete words, rightly discarded for lack of vitality, into +a ghastly semblance of life. Her own language, strong and pure, she +found a sufficient instrument for her purpose. When the true impulse to +write came, her fine theories about style only hampered her, so she cast +them aside, as habitual affectations are cast aside and natural emotions +naturally expressed, in moments of deep feeling; and from that time +forward she displayed, what had doubtless been coming to her by practice +all along, a method and a manner of her own.</p> + +<p>She produced a little book at this time, the first thing of any real +importance she had accomplished as yet; and during the writing of it she +enjoyed an interval of unalloyed happiness, the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_424" id="Page_424">[Pg 424]</a></span> + most perfect that she +had ever known. The world without became as nothing to her; it was the +world within that signified. The terrible sense of loneliness, from +which she had always suffered more or less, was suspended, and she began +to wonder how it was she had ever felt so desolate, that often in the +streets of Slane she would have been grateful to anybody who had spoken +to her kindly. Now she said to herself, sincerely, "Never less alone +than when alone!" And up in the quiet of her secret chamber, with the +serene blue above, the green earth and the whispering trees below, and +all her little treasures about her: the books, the pictures, the pretty +hangings, and little ornaments for flowers; things she had indulged in +by degrees since her mother's death had left her with the money in her +hands which she had made to discharge Dan's debt—up there at her ease +in that peaceful shrine, secure from intrusion, "There is no joy but +calm!" was her constant ejaculation. Then again, too, she felt to +perfection the fine wonder, the fine glow of a great inspiration, and +realised anew that therein all the pleasures of the senses added +together are contained; that inspiration in its higher manifestations is +like love—that it is love, in fact—love without the lover; there being +all the joy of love in it, but none of the trouble.</p> + +<p>But, like most young writers when they set up a high ideal for +themselves, and are striving conscientiously to arrive at it, because +the thing came easily she fancied she had not done her best, and was +dissatisfied. She talked to herself about fatal facility, without +reflecting that in time ease comes by practice; nor did she discriminate +between the flow of cheap ideas pumped up from any source for the +occasion, which satisfies the conceit of shallow workers, and the deep +stream that bubbles up of itself when it is once released, and flows +freely from the convictions, the observations, and the knowledge of an +earnest thinker. Diffidence is a help to some, but to Beth it was a +hindrance, a source of weakness. There was no fear of her taking herself +for a heaven-born genius. Her trouble had always been her doubt of the +merit of anything she did. She should have been encouraged, but instead +she had always been repressed. Accordingly, when she had finished her +little masterpiece, she put it away with the idea of rewriting it, and +making something of it when she should be able; and then she began a +much more pretentious work, and thought it must be better because of the +trouble it gave her.</p> + +<p>Gradually, from now, she gave up all her time to reading and writing, +and she overdid it. Work in excess is as much a vice as idleness, and it +was particularly bad for Beth, whose constitution had begun to be +undermined by dutiful submission. The consulting rooms of specialists +are full of such cases. There are +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_425" id="Page_425">[Pg 425]</a></span> + marriages which for the ignorant girl +preached into dutiful submission, whose "innocence" has been carefully +preserved for the purpose, mean prostitution as absolute, as repugnant, +as cruel, and as contrary to nature as that of the streets. Beth's +marriage was one of those. Until she went to Ilverthorpe, she had never +heard that there was a duty she owed to herself as well as to her +husband; and, as Sir George Galbraith had said, her brain was too +delicately poised for the life she had been leading. Work had been her +opiate; but unfortunately she did not understand the symptoms which +should have warned her that she was overdoing it, and her nerves became +exceedingly irritable. Noises which she had never noticed in her life +before began to worry her to death. Very often, when she was spoken to, +she could hardly answer civilly. At meals everything that was handed to +her was just the very thing she did not want. She quarrelled with all +her food, drank quantities of strong coffee for the sake of the +momentary exhilaration, and even tried wine; but as it only made her +feel worse, she gave that up. Writing became a rage with her, and the +more she had to force herself, the longer she sat at it. She would spend +hours over one sentence, turning it and twisting it, and never be +satisfied; and when she was at last obliged to stop and go downstairs +lest she should be missed, she went with her brain congested, and her +complexion, which was naturally pale and transparent, all flushed or +blotched with streaks of crimson.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with your face?" Dan said to her one day, apt, as +usual, to comment offensively on anything wrong.</p> + +<p>"I should like you to tell me," Beth answered.</p> + +<p>"You'd better take some citrate of iron and quinine."</p> + +<p>"You've prescribed citrate of iron and quinine for everything I've ever +had since I knew you," said Beth. "If I have any more of it, I shall be +like the man in the quack advertisement, who felt he could +conscientiously recommend a tonic because he had taken it for fourteen +years. I should like something that would act a little quicker."</p> + +<p>Dan left the room and banged the door.</p> + +<p>That afternoon Beth, up in her shrine at work, suddenly began to wonder +what he was doing. As a rule, she did not trouble herself about his +pursuits, but now all at once she became anxious. The thought of all the +unholy places that he might be at (and the unfortunate girl knew all +about all of them, for there was no horror of life with which her +husband had not made her acquainted), filled her with dread—with a +sensation entirely new to her, and absolutely foreign to her normal +nature. Her feeling for Dan and Bertha, when she discovered their +treachery, had been one of contempt. Their disloyalty, and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_426" id="Page_426">[Pg 426]</a></span> the petty +mean deceits which it entailed, made it difficult to tolerate their +presence, and she was always glad to get rid of them, wherever they +might go. Now, however, she was seized upon with a kind of rage at the +recollection of their intrigue, of the scene in the garden, the glances +she had intercepted, their stolen interviews, clandestine +correspondence, and impudent security. It was all retrospective this +feeling, but the torment of it was none the less acute for that. She +recalled the scene in the garden, and her heart throbbed with anger. She +regretted her own temperate conduct, and imagined herself stealing out +upon them, standing before them, and pouring forth floods of invective +till they cowered. She wished she had refused to let Bertha enter the +house again, and had threatened to expose Dan if he did not meekly +submit to her dictation. She ought to have exposed him too. She should +have gone to Bertha's mother. But where was Dan at that moment? She +jumped up, rushed down to her room, put on her outdoor things in hot +haste, and ran downstairs determined to go and see; but as she entered +the hall at one end of it, Dan himself came in by the hall-door at the +other. The relief was extraordinary.</p> + +<p>"Hallo! where are you off to?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Just going for a little walk," she answered, speaking ungraciously and +without looking at him. Now that she saw him, her ordinary feeling for +him returned; but instead of being quiet and indifferent as usual, she +found herself showing in her manner something of the contempt she felt, +and it pleased her to do it. She was glad to go out, and be in the open +air away from him; but she had not gone far before the torment in her +mind began again. Why had he come in so unusually early? Was there +anything going on in the house? He was always very familiar with the +servants.</p> + +<p>She stopped short at this, turned back, and went in as hurriedly as she +had gone out. In the hall she stood a moment listening. The house seemed +unusually quiet. A green baize door separated the kitchen and offices +from the hall. She opened it, and saw Minna in the butler's pantry, +cleaning the plate. Minna was parlour-maid now, a housemaid having been +added to the establishment when Miss Petterick came, so that that young +lady might be well waited on.</p> + +<p>"I think we should give the girl full value for her money, you know, +even if we do without something ourselves," Dan had said, in the +generous thoughtful way that had so often imposed upon Beth.</p> + +<p>Beth asked Minna where Drew, the housemaid, was.</p> + +<p>"It's her afternoon out, ma'am," Minna answered.</p> + +<p>"So it is," said Beth. "I had forgotten." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_427" id="Page_427">[Pg 427]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Do you want anything, ma'am?" Minna asked. "You're looking poorly. +Would you like a cup o' tea?"</p> + +<p>"No, thank you," Beth rejoined, then changed her mind. "Yes, I should, +though. Get me one while I'm taking my things off, and bring it to me in +the dining-room. Where is your master?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know, ma'am. I've not heard if he's come in; but it's full +early for him yet," Minna replied, as she took off her working apron.</p> + +<p>While she was talking to the girl, the worry in Beth's head stopped, and +she felt as usual. Going quietly upstairs, she fancied she heard some +one moving in her bedroom, and, entering it by way of the dressing-room, +she discovered Dan on his knees on the floor, prying into one of the +boxes she had had with her at Ilverthorpe, and kept locked until she +should feel inclined to unpack it. He seemed to have had all the +contents out, and was just deftly repacking it. As he replaced the +dresses, he felt in the pocket of each, and in one he found an old +letter which he read.</p> + +<p>Beth withdrew on tiptoe, and went downstairs again, wondering at the +man. She took off her hat and jacket, and ensconced herself with the +newspaper in an easy-chair. Minna came presently with fragrant tea and +hot buttered toast, and talked cheerfully about some of her own +interests. Beth treated her servants like human beings, and rarely had +any trouble with them. She had learnt the art from Harriet, who had +awakened her sympathies, and taught her practically, when she was a +child, what servants have to suffer; and "well loved and well served" +exactly described what Beth was as a mistress. When Minna withdrew, and +Beth had had her tea and toast, she felt quite right again, and read the +paper with interest. The shock of the real trouble had ousted the +imaginary one for the moment.</p> + +<p>The next morning, however, as she toiled with flushed face and weary +brain, stultifying her work with painful elaboration, she was seized +with another fit of jealous rage, just as she had been the day before. +Her mind in a moment, like a calm sea caught by a sudden tempest, +seethed with horrible suspicions of her husband. His gross ideas, +expressed in coarse language, had hitherto been banished from her mind +by her natural refinement; but now, like the works of a disordered +machine, whirling with irresponsible force, thoughts suggested by him +came crowding in the language he habitually used, and she found herself +accusing him with conviction of all she had ever heard others accused of +by him. For a little she pursued this turn of thought, then all at once +she jumped up and rushed downstairs, goaded again to act—to avenge +herself—to dog him down to one of his haunts, and there confront him, +revile him, expose him. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_428" id="Page_428">[Pg 428]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was a tranquil grey day in early autumn, the kind of day, full of +quiet charm, which had always been grateful to Beth; but now, as she +stood on the doorstep, with wrinkled forehead, dilated eyes, and +compressed lips, putting her gloves on in feverish haste, she felt no +tranquillising charm, and saw no beauty in the tangled hedgerows bright +with briony berries, the tinted beeches, the Canadian poplars whispering +mysteriously by the watercourse at the end of the meadow, the glossy +iridescent plumes of the rooks that passed in little parties silhouetted +darkly bright against the empty sky; it was all without significance to +her; her further faculty was suspended, and even the recollection of +anything she had been wont to feel had lapsed, and she perceived no more +in the scene surrounding, in the colours and forms of things, the sounds +and motions, than those perceive whose eyes have never been opened to +anything beyond what appears to the grazing cattle. In many a heavy hour +she had found delight in nature; but now, again, she had lost that +solace; the glory had departed, and she had sunk to one of the lowest +depths of human pain.</p> + +<p>Not understanding the frightful affliction that had come upon her, she +made no attempt to control her disordered fancy, but hurried off into +the town, and hovered about the places which Dan had pointed out as +being of special evil interest, and searched the streets for him, acting +upon the impulse without a doubt of the propriety of what she was doing. +Had the obsession taken another form, had it seemed right to her to +murder him, the necessity would have been as imperative, and she would +have murdered him, not only without compunction, but with a sense of +satisfaction in the deed.</p> + +<p>She pursued her search for hours, but did not find him; then went home, +and there he was, standing on the doorstep, looking out for her.</p> + +<p>"Where on earth have you been?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Where on earth have you been yourself?" she rejoined.</p> + +<p>"Minding my own business," he answered.</p> + +<p>"So have I," she retorted, pushing past him into the hall.</p> + +<p>He had never seen her like that before, and he stood looking after her +in perplexity.</p> + +<p>She went upstairs and threw herself on her bed. The worry in her head +was awful. Turn and toss as she would, the one idea pursued her, until +at last she groaned aloud, "O God! release me from this dreadful man!"</p> + +<p>After a time, being thoroughly exhausted, she dropped into a troubled +sleep.</p> + +<p>When she awoke, Dan was standing looking at her.</p> + +<p>"Aren't you well, Beth?" he said. "You've been moaning +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_429" id="Page_429">[Pg 429]</a></span> and muttering +and carrying on in your sleep as if you'd got fever."</p> + +<p>"I don't think I am well," she answered in her natural manner, the +pressure on her brain being easier at the moment of awakening.</p> + +<p>He felt her pulse. "You'd better get into bed," he said, "and I'll fetch +you a sedative draught. You'll be all right in the morning."</p> + +<p>Beth was only too thankful to get into bed. When he returned with the +draught, she asked him if he were going out again.</p> + +<p>"No, not unless I'm sent for," he said. "Where the devil should I be +going to? It's close on dinner-time."</p> + +<p>Beth shut her eyes. "If he is sent for and goes," she reflected, "I +shall know it is a ruse to deceive me; and I shall get up and follow +him."</p> + +<p>He left her to sleep and went downstairs. But Beth could not sleep. The +draught quieted her mind for a little; then the worry began again as bad +as ever, and she found herself straining her attention to discover to +whom he was talking, for she fancied she heard him whispering with some +one out in the passage. She bore the suspicion awhile, then jumped out +of bed impetuously and opened the door. The gas was burning low in the +passage, but she could see that there was no one about. Surely, though, +there were voices downstairs? Barefooted, and only in her night-dress, +she went to see. Yes, there were voices in the dining-room—now! She +flung the door wide open. Dan and another man, a crony of his, who had +dropped in casually, were sitting smoking and chatting over their +whiskeys-and-sodas.</p> + +<p>Beth, becoming conscious of her night-dress the moment she saw them, +turned and fled back to her bed; greatly relieved in her mind by the +shock of her own indiscretion.</p> + +<p>"What a mad thing to do!" she thought. "I hope to goodness they didn't +see me."</p> + +<p><i>A mad thing to do!</i></p> + +<p>The words, when they recurred to her, were a revelation. What had she +been doing all day? Mad things! What was this sudden haunting horror +that had seized upon her? Why, madness! Dan was just as he had always +been. The change was in herself, and only madness could account for such +a change. There was madness in the family. She remembered her father and +the "moon-faced Bessie"—the familiarities with servants, too; surely +her mother had suffered, and doubtless this misery which had come upon +her had been communicated to her before her birth. Jealous-mad she was; +that was what it meant, the one idea goading her on to do what would +otherwise have been +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_430" id="Page_430">[Pg 430]</a></span> + impossible, possessing her in spite of herself, and +not to be banished by any effort of will.</p> + +<p>"Heaven help me!" she groaned. "What will become of me?"</p> + +<p>Then, as if in reply, there rose to her lips involuntarily the assurance +which recurred to her now for her help and comfort in every hard moment +of her life like a refrain: "I shall succeed."</p> + +<p>And she set herself bravely to conceal her trouble, whatever it cost +her, and to conquer it.</p> + +<p>But it was a hard battle. For months the awful worry in her head +continued, the same thoughts haunted her, the same jealous rage +possessed her, and she knew no ease except when Dan was at hand. The +trouble always passed when she had him under observation. She could not +read, she could not write, she was too restless to sit and sew for more +than a few moments at a time. Up and down stairs she went, out of the +house and in again, fancying always, when in one place, that she would +be better in another, but finding no peace anywhere, no brightness in +the sunshine, no beauty in nature, no interest in life. Through the long +solitary hours of the long solitary days she fought her affliction with +her mouth set hard in determination to conquer it. She met the +promptings of her disordered fancy with answers from her other self. "He +and Bertha Petterick are together, that is why he is so late," the fiend +would asseverate. "Very likely," her temperate self would reply. "But +they may have been together any day this two years, and I knew it, and +pitied and despised them, but felt no pain; why should I suffer now? +Because my mind is disordered. But I shall recover! I shall succeed!"</p> + +<p>She would look at the clock, however, every five minutes in an agony of +suspense until Dan came in. Then she had to fight against the impulse to +question him, which beset her as strongly as the impulse to follow him, +and that was always upon her except when his presence arrested it. Never +once through it all, however, did she think of death as a relief; it was +life she looked to for help, more life and fuller. She could interest +herself in nothing, care for nothing; all feeling of affection for any +one had gone, and was replaced by suspicion and rage. In her torment her +cry was, "Oh, if some one would only care for me! for me as I am with +all my faults! If they would only forgive me my misery and help me to +care again—help <i>me</i> also to the luxury of loving!"</p> + +<p>Forgive her her misery! The world will forgive anything but that; it +tramples on the wretched as the herd turns on a wounded beast, not to +put it out of its pain, but because the sight of suffering is an offence +to it. If we cannot enliven our acquaintances, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_431" id="Page_431">[Pg 431]</a></span> + they will do little to +enliven us. Sad faces are shunned; and signs of suffering excite less +sympathy than repulsion. The spirit of Christ the Consoler has been +driven out from among us.</p> + +<p>Beth poured herself out in letters at this time rather more than was her +habit; it was an effort to get into touch with the rest of the world +again. In one to Jim, speaking of her hopes of success, she said she +should get on better with her work if she had more sympathy shown her; +to which he replied by jeering at her. What did she mean by such +nonsense? But that was the way with women; they were all sickly +sentimental. Sympathy indeed! She should think herself devilish lucky to +have a good husband and a home of her own. Many a girl would envy her. +He wrote also to other members of the family on the subject, as if it +were a rare joke worth spreading that Beth wanted more sympathy; and +Beth received several letters in which the writers told her what their +opinion was of her and her complaints as compared to that good husband +of hers, who was always so bright and cheery. All their concern was for +the worthy man who had done so much for Beth. They had no patience with +her, could scarcely conceal their amusement with this last absurdity, +but thought she should be laughed out of her fads and fancies. That was +the only time Beth sought sympathy from any of her relations. Afterwards +she took to writing them bitter letters in which she told them what she +thought of them as freely as they told her. "What is the use," she said +to Jim, "what is the use of sisters and wives being refined and virtuous +if their fathers, brothers, husbands, are bar-loafers, men of corrupt +imagination and depraved conversation? Surely, if we must live with such +as these, all that is best in us adds to our misery rather than helps +us. If we did not love the higher life ourselves, it would not hurt us +to be brought into contact with the lower."</p> + +<p>On receiving this letter, Jim wrote kindly to Dan, and said many things +about what women were coming to with their ridiculous notions. But men +were men and women were women, and that was all about it,—a lucid +conclusion that appealed to Dan, who quoted it to Beth in discussions on +the subject ever afterwards.</p> + +<p>Beth broke down and despaired many times during the weary struggle with +her mental affliction. She felt herself woefully changed; and not only +had the light gone out of her life, but it seemed as if it never would +return. When she awoke in the morning, she usually felt better for +awhile, but the terrible torment in her mind returned inevitably, and +rest and peace were banished for the day. It was then she learnt what is +meant by the inner calm, and how greatly to be desired it is—desired +above everything. The power to pray left her entirely during this +phase. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_432" id="Page_432">[Pg 432]</a></span> + She could repeat prayers and extemporise them as of old, but +there was no more satisfaction in the effort than in asking a favour of +an empty room. Sometimes, and especially during the hideous nights, when +she slept but little, and only in short snatches, she felt tempted to +take something, stimulant or sedative; but this temptation she resisted +bravely, and, the whole time, an extra cup of tea or coffee for the sake +of the momentary relief was the only excess she committed. If she had +not exercised her will in this, her case would have been hopeless; but, +as it was, her self-denial, and the effort it entailed, kept up her +mental strength, and helped more than anything to save her.</p> + +<p>To beguile the long hours, she often stood in the dining-room window +looking out. The window was rather above the road, so that she looked +down on the people who passed, and she could also see over the hedge on +the opposite side of the road into the meadow beyond. Small things +distracted her sometimes, though nothing pleased her. If two rooks flew +by together, she hoped for a better day; if one came first, she would +not accept the omen, but waited, watching for two. By a curious +coincidence, they generally passed, first one for sorrow, then two for +mirth, then three for a wedding; and she would say to herself, first, +bad luck, then good luck, then a marriage; and wonder how it would come +about, but anyhow—"I shall succeed!" would flash from her and stimulate +her.</p> + +<p>One day, as she stood there watching, she saw a horseman come slowly +down the road.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"> "A bowshot from her bower-eaves,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He rode between the barley sheaves,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The sun came dazzling through the leaves,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And flamed upon the brazen greaves<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Of bold Sir Launcelot."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Beth's attention sharpened to sudden interest. As he came abreast of the +window, the rider looked up, and Beth's heart bounded at the sight of +his face, which was the face of a man from out of the long ago, virile, +knightly, high-bred, refined; the face of one that lives for others, and +lives openly. He had glanced up indifferently, but, on seeing Beth, a +look of interest came into his eyes. It was as if he had recognised her; +and she felt herself as if she had seen him before, but when or where, +in what picture, in what dream, she could not tell.</p> + +<p>With the first flush of healthy interest she had experienced for a long +time, she watched him till he was all but out of sight, then shut her +eyes that she might not see him vanish, for fear of bad luck; a +superstition she had not practised since she was a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_433" id="Page_433">[Pg 433]</a></span>child. When he had +gone, she found herself with a happy impression of him in her mind, an +impression of quiet dignity, and of strength in repose. "A man to be +trusted," she thought; "true and tender, a perfect knight." The flash of +interest or recognition that came into his countenance when he saw her +haunted her; she recalled the colour of his blue eyes, noted the +contrast they were to his dark hair and clear dark skin, and was +pleased. In the afternoon she sat and sewed, and smiled to herself over +her work with an easy mind. Her restlessness had subsided; Dan scarcely +cost her a thought; the tension was released and a reaction had set in; +but, at the time, she herself was quite unaware of it. All she felt was +a good appetite for her tea.</p> + +<p>"Minna," she said to the parlour-maid, "bring me a big cup of tea and a +good plate of buttered toast. I'm famishing."</p> + +<p>"That's good news, ma'am," Minna answered, for it was long since Beth +had had any appetite at all.</p> + +<p>The next day Beth stood at the window again, but without intention. She +was thinking of her knight of the noble mien, however, and at about the +same hour as on the day before, he came again, riding slowly down the +road; and again he looked at Beth with a flash of interest in his face, +to which she involuntarily responded. When he was out of sight she +opened the window, and perceived to her glad surprise that the air was +balmy, and on all things the sun shone, shedding joy.</p> + +<p>The horrid spell was broken.</p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLVI" id="CHAPTER_XLVI"></a>CHAPTER XLVI</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"> "A bowshot from her bower-eaves,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He rode between the barley-sheaves."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The words made music in Beth's heart as she dressed next morning, and, +instead of the torment of mind from which she had suffered for so long, +there was a great glad glow. Dan went and came as usual, but neither his +presence nor absence disturbed her. She had recovered her +self-possession, her own point of view, and he and his habits resumed +their accustomed place in her estimation. During that dreadful phase she +had seen with Dan's suspicious eyes, and seen evil only, but had not +acquired his interest and pleasure in it; on the contrary, her own +tendency to be grieved by it had been intensified. Now, however, she had +recovered herself, her sense of proportion had been restored, and she +balanced the good against the evil once more, and rejoiced to find that +the weight of good was even greater than she had hitherto supposed. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_434" id="Page_434">[Pg 434]</a></span></p> + +<p>But although the spell had been broken in a moment, her right mind was +not permanently restored all at once. It was only gradually, as the tide +goes out after a tempest, and leaves the storm-beaten coast in peace, +that the worry in her head subsided. She had lapse after lapse. She +would lie awake at night, a prey to horrible thoughts, or start up in +the early morning with her mind all turgid with suspicions which goaded +her to rush out and act, act—see for herself—do something. But the +great difference now was that, although she was still seized upon by the +evil, it no longer had the same power to grieve her. She had valiantly +resisted it from the moment she recognised its nature, but now she not +only resisted it, she conquered it, and found relief. When her +imagination insisted on pursuing Dan to his haunts, she deliberately and +successfully turned her attention to other things. She turned her +attention to the friends she loved and trusted, she dwelt on the +kindness they had shown her, she forced herself to sit down and write to +them, and she would rise from this happy task with her reason restored, +the mere expression of affection having sufficed to exorcise the devils +of rage and hate.</p> + +<p>But it was the strange exalted sentiment which her knight had inspired +that began, continued, and completed her cure. Day after day he came +riding down the road, riding into her life for a moment, then passing on +and leaving her, not desolate, but greatly elated. She had known no +feeling like this feeling, no hope or faith like the hope and faith +inspired by that man's mien. She did not know his name, she had never +heard his voice; their greeting—which was hardly a greeting, so +restrained was the glance and the brightening of the countenance which +was all the recognition that passed between them—was merely momentary, +yet, in that moment, Beth was imbued with joy which lasted longer and +longer each time, until at last it stayed with her for good, restored +the charm of life to her, re-aroused her dormant further faculty, and +quickened the vision and the dream anew. She prayed again in those days +fervently, and in full faith, as of old; for when we pray with love in +our hearts our prayers are granted, and her heart was full of love—a +holy, impersonal love, such as we feel for some great genius, adored at +a distance, for the grace of goodness he has imparted to us. And her +heart being full of love, her brain teemed with ideas; the love she +lived on, the ideas she held in reserve, for she had been so weakened by +all she had suffered that the slightest exertion in the way of work +exhausted her. In any case, however, great ideas must simmer long in the +mind before they come to the boil, and the time was not lost.</p> + +<p>In those days fewer people than ever came to the house. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_435" id="Page_435">[Pg 435]</a></span> For weeks +together Beth never spoke to a soul except the servants and her husband, +and through the long hours when her head troubled her and she could not +work, she felt her isolation extremely. Mrs. Kilroy and her other new +friends sent her pamphlets and papers and hurried notes to keep her +heart up and inform her of their progress, and Beth, knowing what the +hurry of their lives was, and not expecting any attention, was grateful +for all they paid her. She had no fear of losing touch with such friends +after they had once received her into their circle as one of themselves, +however seldom she might see them, and it was well for her mental health +that she had them to rely on during that time of trial, for without them +she would have had no sense of security in any relation in life.</p> + +<p>She was gradually growing to be on much more formal terms with Dan than +she had been, thanks to her own strength of character. She found she was +able to reduce the daily jar, and even to keep his coarseness in check, +by extreme politeness. In any difference, his habit had been to try and +shout her down; but the contrast of her own quiet dignified demeanour +checked him in that. Beth had the magnetic quality which, when steadily +directed, acts on people and forces them into any attitude desired; and +Dan accommodated his manner and conversation to her taste more now than +he had ever done before; but he felt the restraint, and was with her as +little as possible, which, as she began to recover, was also a +relief—for his blatant self-absorption, the everlasting I, I, I, of his +conversation, and his low views of life, rasped her irritable nerves +beyond endurance.</p> + +<p>One day, coming into the drawing-room about tea-time, with muddy boots +and his hat on, he found her lying on the sofa, prostrated with nervous +headache. The days closed in early then, and she had had the fire +lighted and the curtains drawn, but could not bear the gaslight because +of her head.</p> + +<p>"Well, this isn't brilliant," he began, at the top of his voice. "A +little more light would suit me." He struck a match and turned the gas +full on. "That's better," he said; "and some tea would be refreshing +after my walk. I've done the whole trudge on foot this afternoon, and I +consider that's a credit to me. You won't find many rising young men +economising in the matter of horseflesh as I do, or in anything else. +I'll undertake to say I spend less on myself than any other man in the +diocese." He went to the door instead of ringing the bell, and shouted +down the passage to Minna to bring him some tea.</p> + +<p>Beth shut her eyes and groaned inwardly.</p> + +<p>When the tea came, Dan poured some out for himself, remarking, "I +suppose you've had yours." Beth had not, but she was beyond making any +effort to help herself at the moment. Dan, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_436" id="Page_436">[Pg 436]</a></span> + who always ate at a greedy +rate, left off talking for a little; and during the interval, Beth was +startled by something cold touching her hand. She opened her eyes, and +found a dainty little black-and-tan terrier standing up, with its +forepaws on the couch, looking at her.</p> + +<p>"You're a pretty thing," she said. "Where have you come from?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, is that the dog?" said Dan, looking round to see to whom she was +talking. "He followed me in. I don't know who he belongs to; but as I +happen to want a little dog, he's welcome."</p> + +<p>"But he's very well-bred, isn't he," said Beth, "and valuable? Look at +his pencilled paws, and thin tail, and sharp ears pricked to attention. +He's listening to what we are saying with the greatest intelligence. I'm +sure he's a pet, and his owners will want him back."</p> + +<p>"Let them come and fetch him, then," said Dan.</p> + +<p>Then it occurred to Beth that Dan had probably bought him to present to +somebody, but chose to lie about it for reasons of his own, so she said +no more.</p> + +<p>The next night, about ten o'clock, Dan was called out, and did not +return. Beth, being very wideawake, sat up late, playing patience first +of all, and then reading a shilling shocker of Dan's, which she had +taken up casually and become interested in. The story was of an +extremely sensational kind, and she found herself being wrought up by it +to a high pitch of nervous excitement. At the slightest noise she +jumped; and then she became oppressed by the silence, and found herself +peering into the dark corners of the room, and hesitating to glance over +her shoulder, as if she feared to see something. She supposed the +servants had not yet gone to bed, for she heard at intervals what seemed +to be a human voice. After a time, however, it struck her that there was +something unusual in the regularity of the sound, and, although she +continued to read, she found herself waiting involuntarily, with +strained attention, for it to be repeated. When it occurred again, she +thought it sounded suspiciously like a cry of pain; and the next time it +came she was sure of it. Instantly forgetting herself and her nervous +tremors, she threw down her book and went to see what was the matter. +She stood a moment in the hall, where the gas had been left burning, and +listened; but all was still. Then she opened the door of communication +into the kitchen regions, and found that that part of the house was all +in darkness. The servants had gone to bed. Holding the door open, she +stood a little, and listened again; but, as she heard nothing, she began +to think her fancy had played her a trick, when, just beside her, as it +seemed, some one +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_437" id="Page_437">[Pg 437]</a></span> + shrieked. Beth, gasping with terror, ran back into the +hall, and struck a match to light one of the bed-candles that stood on a +table, her impulse being to go to the rescue in spite of her deadly +fright. It seemed an age before she could get the candle lit with her +trembling hands, and, in the interval, the horrible cry recurred, and +this time she thought it came from the surgery. Could any sick person +have been left there locked up? Dan always kept the room locked up, and +Beth had hardly ever been in it. She went to the door now, bent on +breaking it open, but she found that for once the key had been left in +the lock. She turned it and entered boldly; but her candle flickered as +she opened the door, so that, at first, she could see nothing +distinctly. She held it high above her head, however, and as the flame +became steady she looked about her. There was no one to be seen. The +room was large and bare. All that it contained was a bookcase, some +shelves with books on them, a writing-table and chair, an arm-chair, a +couch, and another table of common deal, like a kitchen table, on which +was a variety of things—bottles, books, and instruments apparently—all +covered up with a calico sheet.</p> + +<p>Beth, checked again in her search, was considering what to do next, when +the horrid cry was once more repeated. It seemed to come from under the +calico sheet. Beth lighted the gas, put down her candle, and going to +the table, took the sheet off deliberately, and saw a sight too +sickening for description. The little black-and-tan terrier, the bonny +wee thing which had been so blithe and greeted her so confidently only +the evening before, lay there, fastened into a sort of frame in a +position which alone must have been agonising. But that was not all.</p> + +<p>Beth had heard of these horrors before, but little suspected that they +were carried on under that very roof. She had turned sick at the sight, +a low cry escaped her, and her great compassionate heart swelled with +rage; but she acted without hesitation.</p> + +<p>Snatching up her candle, she went to the shelves where the bottles were, +looked along the row of red labels, found what she wanted, went back to +the table, and poured some drops down the poor little tortured +creature's throat.</p> + +<p>In a moment its sufferings ceased.</p> + +<p>Then Beth covered the table with the calico sheet mechanically, put the +bottle back in its place, turned out the gas, and left the room, locking +the door after her. Her eyes were haggard and her teeth were clenched, +but she felt the stronger for a brave determination, and more herself +than she had done for many months.</p> + +<p>Maclure only came in to bathe and breakfast next morning, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_438" id="Page_438">[Pg 438]</a></span> and she +scarcely exchanged a word with him before he went out again; but in the +afternoon he came into the drawing-room, where she was writing a letter, +and began to talk as if he meant to be sociable. He had his usual air of +having lavished much attention on his personal adornment—too much for +manliness; and, in spite of the night work, his hair shone as glossy +black, his complexion was as bright and clear, and his general +appearance as fresh and healthy, as care of himself and complete +indifference to other people, except in so far as his own well-being +might be affected by them, could make it. Beth watched him surveying +himself in the glass from different points of view with a complacent +smile, and felt that his physical advantages, and the superabundant +vitality which made the business of living such an easy enjoyable farce +to him, made his inhuman callousness all the more repulsive.</p> + +<p>"I should go out if I were you," he said, peering close into the glass +at the corner of his eye, where he fancied he had detected the faint +criss-cross of coming crows' feet "I'd never stay mugging up in the +house, withering. Look at me! I go out in all weathers, and I'll +undertake to say I'm a pretty good specimen both of health and spirits."</p> + +<p>It was so unusual for Dan to recommend Beth to do anything for her own +good that she began to wonder what he wanted; she had observed that he +always felt kindly disposed towards people when he was asking a favour +of them.</p> + +<p>"And, by-the-bye," he pursued, turning his back to the mirror and +craning his neck to see the set of his coat-tails, "you might do +something for me when you are out. Wilberforce is worrying for his +money. It's damned cheek. I sent him a large order for whisky the other +day to keep him quiet, but it hasn't answered. I wish you would go and +see him—go with a long face, like a good girl, and tell him I'm only +waiting till I get my own accounts in. Have a little chat with him, you +know, and all that sort of thing—lay yourself out to please him, in +fact. He's a gentlemanly fellow for a wine-merchant, and has a weakness +for pretty women. If you go, I'll take my dick he'll not trouble us with +a bill for the next six months."</p> + +<p>"It seems to me," said Beth in her quietest way, "that when a husband +asks his wife to make use of her personal appearance or charm of manner +to obtain a favour for him from another man, he is requiring something +of her which is not at all consistent with her self-respect."</p> + +<p>Dan stopped short with his hand up to his moustache to twist it, his +bonhomie cast aside in a moment. "Oh, damn your self-respect!" he said +brutally. "Your cursed book-talk is enough to drive a man to the devil. +Anybody but you, with +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_439" id="Page_439">[Pg 439]</a></span> + your 'views' and 'opinions' and fads and fancies +generally, would be only too glad to oblige a good husband in such a +small matter. And surely to God <i>I</i> know what is consistent with your +self-respect! <i>I</i> should be the last person in the world to allow you to +compromise it! But your eyes will be opened, and the cursed conceit +taken out of you some day, madam, I can tell you! You'll live to regret +the way you've treated me, I promise you!"</p> + +<p>"My eyes have been pretty well opened as it is," Beth answered. "You +left the key in the surgery door last night."</p> + +<p>"And you went in there <i>spying</i> on me, did you? That was honourable!" he +exclaimed in a voice of scorn.</p> + +<p>"I heard the wretched creature you had been vivisecting crying in its +agony, and I thought it was a human being, and went to see," Beth +answered, speaking in the even, dispassionate way which she had found +such an effectual check on Dan's vulgar bluster.</p> + +<p>"You killed that dog, then!" he exclaimed, turning on her savagely. "How +dare you?"</p> + +<p>Beth rose from the writing-table, and went and stretched herself out on +the sofa, deliberately facing him.</p> + +<p>"How dare <i>you</i>?" she inquired.</p> + +<p>"How dare I, indeed, in my own house!" he bawled. "Now, look here, +madam, I'm not going to have any of your damned interference, and so I +tell you."</p> + +<p>"Please, I am not deaf," she remonstrated gently. "And now, look here, +sir, I am not going to have any of your <i>damnable</i> cruelties going on +under the same roof with me. I have endured your sensuality and your +corrupt conversation weakly, partly because I knew no better, and partly +because I was the only sufferer, as it seemed to me, in the narrow +outlook I had on life until lately; but I know better now. I know that +every woman who submits in such matters is not only a party to her own +degradation, but connives at the degradation of her whole sex. Our +marriage never can be a true marriage, the spiritual, intellectual, +physical union of a man and a woman for the purpose of perfect +companionship. We have none of the higher aspirations in common, we +should be none the happier for tender experiences of parenthood, none +the holier for any joy or sorrow, pain or pleasure, that might come to +us to strengthen and ennoble us if rightly enjoyed or endured. And this, +I think, is not altogether my fault. But however that may be, it is out +of my power to remedy it now. All I can do is to prevent unedifying +scenes between us by showing you such courtesy and consideration as is +possible. On this occasion I will show you courtesy, but the +consideration is due to me. A woman does not marry to have +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_440" id="Page_440">[Pg 440]</a></span> her heart +wrung, her health destroyed, her life made wretched by anything that is +preventable, and I intend to put a stop to this last discovered hellish +practice of yours. I will not allow it, and if you dare to attempt it +again, I will call in the townsfolk to see you at your brutal work."</p> + +<p>She spoke with decision, in the tone of one who has determined on her +plan of action and will fearlessly pursue it. A great gravity settled on +Daniel Maclure. He stood still a little reflecting, then came to the +fire, beside which Beth, who had risen restlessly as she spoke, was now +sitting in an arm-chair. He drew up another chair, and sat down also, +having resolved, in face of the gravity of the situation, to try some of +his old tactics, and some new ones as well. His first pose was to gaze +into the fire ruefully for awhile, and then his fine eyes slowly filled +with tears.</p> + +<p>"It must have been a brutal sight," he said at last, "and I can't tell +you how sorry I am you saw it. I don't wonder you're shaken, poor little +girl, and it's natural that the shock should have made you unreasonable +and uncharitable—unlike yourself, in fact, for I never knew a more +reasonable woman when you are in your right mind, or a more charitable. +I'm not so bad, however, as you think me. I never intended to inflict +suffering on the creature. I didn't know he'd recover. I had given him a +dose of curare."</p> + +<p>"The drug that paralyses without deadening the sense of pain," Beth +interposed. "I have heard of the tender mercies of the vivisector. He +saves himself as much as he can in the matter of distracting noises."</p> + +<p>Dan had mentioned curare to give a persuasive touch of scientific +accuracy to his explanation, not suspecting that she knew the properties +of the drug, and he was taken aback for a moment; but he craftily +abandoned that point and took up another.</p> + +<p>"These experiments must be made, in the interests of suffering humanity, +more's the pity," he said, sighing.</p> + +<p>"In the interests of cruel and ambitious scientific men, struggling to +outstrip each other, and make money, and win fame for themselves +regardless of the cost. They were ready enough in old days to vivisect +human beings when it was allowed, and they would do it again if they +dared."</p> + +<p>"Now look here, Beth; don't be rabid," said Dan temperately. "Just think +of the sufferings medical men are able to relieve nowadays in +consequence of these researches."</p> + +<p>"Good authorities say that nothing useful has been discovered by +vivisection that could not have been discovered without it," Beth +rejoined. "And even if it had been the means of saving +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_441" id="Page_441">[Pg 441]</a></span> human life, that +would not justify your employment of it. There never could be a human +life worth saving at such an expense of suffering to other creatures. It +isn't as if you made an experiment and had done with it either. One +generation after another of you repeats the same experiments to verify +them, to see for yourselves, for practice; and so countless helpless +creatures are being tortured continually by numbers of men who are +degraded and brutalised themselves by their experiments. Had I known you +were a vivisector, I should not only have refused to marry you, I should +have declined to associate with you. To conceal such a thing from the +woman you were about to marry was a cruel injustice—a fraud."</p> + +<p>"I concealed nothing from you that you were old enough to understand and +take a right view of," Dan protested.</p> + +<p>"According to custom," said Beth. "Anything that might prevent a woman +accepting a man is carefully concealed from her. That kind of cant is +wearisome. You did not think me too young to put at the head of a house, +or to run the risk of becoming a mother, although I have heard you +dilate yourself on the horrors of premature motherhood. But that is the +way with men. For anything that suits their own convenience they are +ingenious in finding excuses. As a rule, they see but one side of a +social question, and that is their own. I cannot understand any but +unsexed women associating with vivisectors. Don't pretend you pursue +such experiments reluctantly—you delight in them. But, whatever the +excuse for them, I am sure that the time is coming when the vivisector +will be treated like the people who prepared the dead for embalming in +ancient Egypt. You will be called in when there is no help for it; but, +your task accomplished, you will be driven out of all decent society, to +consort with the hangman—if even he will associate with you."</p> + +<p>"Well, well!" Dan ejaculated, gazing into the fire sorrowfully. "But I +suppose this is what we should expect. It's the way of the world. A +scientific man who devotes all his time and talents to relieving his +fellow-creatures must expect to be misunderstood and reviled by way of +reward. You send for us when you want us—there's nobody like the doctor +then; but you'll grudge every penny you've got to give us, and you'd not +pay at all if you could help it. I should know."</p> + +<p>"I was not speaking of doctors," Beth rejoined. "I was speaking of +vivisectors. But after all, what is the great outcome of your +extraordinary science? What do you do with it? Keep multitudes alive and +suffering who would be happily dead and at rest but for you! If you +practised with the honest intention of doing as much good as you could, +you would not be content merely to treat effects as you do for the most +part; you would +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_442" id="Page_442">[Pg 442]</a></span> + strike at causes also; and we should hear more of +prevention and less of wonderful cures. You dazzle the blockhead public +with a showy operation, and no one thinks of asking why it is that the +necessity for this same operation recurs so often. You know, probably, +but you disclaim responsibility in the matter. It is not your place to +teach the public, you modestly protest."</p> + +<p>"I don't know how you can say that in the face of the effort we have +made to stamp out disease. Why, look at zymotic diseases alone!"</p> + +<p>"Exactly!" Beth answered. "Zymotic diseases alone! But why draw the line +there? And what are you doing to improve the race, to strengthen its +power to resist disease? You talk about Nature when it suits you; but it +is the cant of the subject you employ, for you are at variance with +Nature. Your whole endeavour is to thwart her. Nature decrees the +survival of the fittest; you exercise your skill to preserve the +unfittest, and stop there—at the beginning of your responsibilities, as +it seems to me. Let the unfit who are with us live, and save them from +suffering when you can, by all means; but take pains to prevent the +appearance of any more of them. By the reproduction of the unfit, the +strength, the beauty, the morality of the race is undermined, and with +them its best chances of happiness. Yes, you certainly do your best to +stamp out measles, smallpox, scarlet fever, and all that group—diseases +that do not necessarily leave any permanent mark on the constitution; +but at the same time you connive at the spread of the worst disease to +which we are liable. About that you preserve the strictest professional +secrecy. Only to-day, in the <i>Times</i>, there is the report of a +discussion on the subject at a meeting of the International Congress of +Legal Medicine—where is it?" She took up the paper and read:—"'There +was an important debate on the spread of an infamous disease by wet +nurses. This question is all the more urgent because, though the +greatest dangers and complications are involved, <i>it is very generally +neglected</i>.... When a doctor knows that the parents of a child are +tainted, should he so far disregard the professional secrecy to which he +is bound as to warn the nurse of her danger in suckling the child?' +Apparently not! The poor woman must take her chance, as the child's +unfortunate mother had to do when she married."</p> + +<p>"Ah, now you see for yourself, and will become reasonable, it is to be +hoped," he interrupted, rubbing his hands complacently; "for it is +precisely in order to check that particular disease that appointments +like mine are made."</p> + +<p>"It is precisely in order to make vice safe for men that such +appointments are made," she answered. "Medical etiquette would +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_443" id="Page_443">[Pg 443]</a></span> not stop +where it does, at the degradation of those unfortunate women, if you +were honestly attempting to put a stop to that disease. You would have +it reported, irrespective of the sex of the sufferer, like any other +disease that is dangerous to the health of the community. It is not +contrary to etiquette to break your peculiar professional secrecy in the +case of a woman, but it would be in the case of a man; so you punish the +women, and let the men go free to spread the evil from one generation to +another as they like. O justice! O consistency! I don't wonder we have +been shunned since we came to Slane. A man in your position is a mere +pander, and right glad am I of what I have suffered from the scorn and +contempt of the people who would not associate with us. It shows that +the right spirit is abroad in the community."</p> + +<p>"Pander!" Dan ejaculated. "I am sorry to hear you use such a word, +Beth."</p> + +<p>"It is the right word, unfortunately," she answered.</p> + +<p>"You oughtn't to know anything about these things," the chaste Daniel +observed, with an air of offended delicacy. "Women can't know enough to +see the matter from the right point of view, and so they make mischief."</p> + +<p>"Ah, you don't appreciate that women have grown out of their +intellectual infancy," Beth said, "and have opinions and a point of view +of their own in social matters, especially where their own sex is +concerned. You are still in the days of old Chavasse, who expatiates in +his 'Advice to a Wife' on the dangers of men marrying unhealthy women, +but says not a word of warning to women on the risk of marrying +unhealthy men. You would keep us blindfolded as we were in his day, and +abandon us to our fate in like manner; but it can't be done any more, my +friend. You can hide nothing from sensible women now that concerns the +good of the community. We know there is no protection for women against +this infamous disease, and no punishment for the men who spread it; and +we consider the fact a disgrace to every medical man alive."</p> + +<p>"You have a nice opinion of the men of your husband's profession!" Dan +observed sarcastically.</p> + +<p>"I have the highest opinion of medical men—such medical men as Sir +George Galbraith," she replied. "I have seen something of their +high-mindedness, their courage, their devotion, and their genuine +disinterestedness; and I feel sure that in time their efforts will +leaven the whole mass of callousness and cruelty against which they have +to contend in their profession. The hope of humanity is in the doctors, +and they will not fail us. Like Christ, they will teach as well as +heal."</p> + +<p>"Rubbish!" said Dan. "As I've told you before, it isn't +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_444" id="Page_444">[Pg 444]</a></span> our business to +mind the morals of the people. It's for the parsons to fight the devil."</p> + +<p>"But," said Beth, "as I answered you before, you cannot attend to the +health of the community properly without also minding its morals. The +real old devil is disease."</p> + +<p>Dan left his seat and walked to the window, where he stood with his +hands in his pockets, looking out for awhile.</p> + +<p>"Well, this is enough jawbation for one day, I hope," he said at last, +turning round. "Marrying a woman like you is enough to drive a man to +the devil. I've a jolly good mind to go and get drunk. I declare to God +if I could get drunk overnight and feel all right again in the morning, +I'd be drunk every night. But it can't be done," he added regretfully. +"There are drawbacks to everything."</p> + +<p>Beth looked at him imperturbably while he was speaking, then turned her +attention to the fire.</p> + +<p>"You know my views now on the subject of vivisection," she said at last. +"If there is any more of it here, I shall leave the house, and publish +the reason. And you also know what I consider I owe myself in the way of +self-respect. You must beguile your creditors by other means than my +personal appearance."</p> + +<p>She had spoken all through in the most temperate tone, and now, when she +had finished, she leaned back in her chair and folded her hands with a +sigh, as of one who had finished a hard task and would rest.</p> + +<p>Dan looked at her with evident distaste, and considered a little, +searching for something more to say that might move her, some argument +that should persuade or convince; but, as nothing occurred to him, he +left the room, banging the door after him in his ill-conditioned way, +because he knew that the noise would be a racking offence to her +overwrought nerves.</p> + +<p>But from that time forward everything he did was an offence to Beth, a +source of irritation. In spite of herself, she detected all the +insincerity of his professions, the mean motives of his acts. Up to this +time she had been more kindly disposed towards him than she herself +knew. All she had wanted was to be able to care for him, to find some +consistency in him, something to respect, and to which she could pin her +faith; but now she knew him for what he was exactly—shallow, +pretentious, plausible, vulgar-minded, without principle; a man of false +pretensions and vain professions; utterly untrustworthy; saying what +would suit himself at the moment, or just what occurred to him, not what +he thought, but what he imagined he was expected to say. Beth had never +heard him condemn a vice or habit which she did not afterwards find him +practising himself. She used to wonder if he deceived himself, or was +only intent on deceiving her; but from +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_445" id="Page_445">[Pg 445]</a></span> + close observation of him at this +period, she became convinced that, for the time being, he entered into +whatever part he was playing, and hence his extreme plausibility. Beth +found herself studying him continually with a curious sort of impersonal +interest; he was a subject that repelled her, but from which, +nevertheless, she could not tear herself away. His hands in particular, +his handsome white hands, had a horrid sort of fascination for her. She +had admired them while she thought of them as the healing hands of the +physician, bringing hope and health; but now she knew them to be the +cruel hands of the vivisector, associated with torture, from which +humanity instinctively shrinks; and when he touched her, her delicate +skin crisped with a shudder. She used to wonder how he could eat with +hands so polluted, and once, at dessert, when he handed her a piece of +orange in his fingers, she was obliged to leave it on her plate, she +could not swallow it.</p> + +<p>After that last scene the days dragged more intolerably than ever; but +happily for Beth there were not many more of them without a break, for +just as it seemed that endurance must end in some desperate act, Mrs. +Kilroy sent her a pressing invitation to go and pay her a long visit in +London; and Beth accepted it, and went with such a sense of relief as an +invalid feels who, after long suffering, finds herself well, and out in +the free fresh air once more.</p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLVII" id="CHAPTER_XLVII"></a>CHAPTER XLVII</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">When</span> Beth went to stay with the Kilroys in London, it was a question +whether she might not end by joining the valiant army of those who are +in opposition to everything; but before she had been there a week, she +had practically recovered her balance, and began to look out upon life +once more with dispassionate attention. Her depression when she first +arrived was evident, and the Kilroys were concerned to see her looking +so thin and ill; but, by degrees, she expanded in that genial +atmosphere, and although she said little as a rule, she had begun to +listen and to observe again with her usual vivid interest. She could not +have been better situated for the purpose, for people of all kinds came +to the Kilroys; and in moving among them merely as an onlooker, she was +bound to see and hear enough to take her out of herself. Her own +personality was too distinct, however, for her to remain for long an +onlooker merely. That mesmeric quality in her which, whether it +fascinates or displeases, attracts or repels, marks a distinct +personality which is not to be overlooked, made people ask at once who +she +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_446" id="Page_446">[Pg 446]</a></span> + was, in the hope that her acquaintance might be worth cultivating. +For there was a certain air of distinction about her which made her look +like a person with some sort of prestige, whom it might be useful to +know—don't you know.</p> + +<p>One afternoon soon after Beth's arrival, Mrs. Kilroy being at home to +visitors, and the rooms already pretty full, Beth noticed among the +callers an old-looking young man whose face seemed familiar to her. He +wore a pointed beard upon his chin, and a small moustache cut away from +his upper lip, and waxed and turned up at the ends. His face was thin +and narrow, his forehead high and bald; what hair he had grew in a +fringe at the back of his head, and was curly, and of a nondescript +brown colour. Had he worn the dress of the Elizabethan period, he might +have passed for a bad attempt to look like Shakespeare; and Beth thought +that that perhaps might be the resemblance which puzzled her. While she +was looking at him a lady was announced, a most demure-looking little +person in a grey costume, and a small, close-fitting princess bonnet, +tied under her chin, and trimmed with a big Alsatian bow in front. She +entered smiling slightly, and she continued to smile, as if she had set +the smile on her lips as she put the bonnet on her head, to complete her +costume. After she had shaken hands with Angelica, she looked round as +if in search of some one else, and seemed satisfied when she discovered +the old-looking young man of Shakesperian aspect. He was watching her, +and their eyes met with a momentary significance, but they took no +further notice of each other. Most people would have perceived no more +in the glance than showed on the surface:—a lady and gentleman who +looked at each other and then looked away, like indifferent +acquaintances or casual strangers; but Beth's infallible intuition +revealed to her an elaborate precaution in this seeming unconcern. It +was clear to her that the two had expected to meet each other there, and +their apparent insensibility to each other's presence was a pose, which, +however, betrayed to her the intimacy it was affected to conceal. She +hated herself for seeing so much, and burned with blame of Dan for +opening her eyes to behold the inward wickedness beneath the +conventional propriety of the outward demeanour; but therein she was +unjust to Dan. He had opened her eyes sooner than they should have been +opened, but in any case she must have seen for herself eventually. +Nothing in life can be concealed from such a mind. What books could not +teach her, she discovered from people by sympathy, by insight, by +intuition; but she did not come into full possession of her faculties +all at once. The conditions of her life had tended rather to retard than +to develop the best that was in +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_447" id="Page_447">[Pg 447]</a></span> +her, and the wonder was that her vision +had not been permanently distorted, so that she could see nothing but +evil in all things—see it, too, till her eyes were accustomed and her +soul corrupted, so that she not only ceased to resent it, but finally +accepted it as the inevitable order to which it is best to accommodate +oneself if one is to get any good out of life. This is the fate of most +young wives situated as Beth had been, the fate she had only narrowly +escaped by help of the strength that came of the brave self-contained +habits she had cultivated in her life of seclusion and thought. It was +the result of this training, and her constancy in pursuing it, that her +further faculty, hitherto so fitful, at last shot up a bright and steady +light which made manifest to her the thoughts of others that they were +not all evil, and helped her by the grace in her own heart to perceive +hidden processes of love at work in other hearts, all tending to +purification, and by the goodness of her own soul to search out the +goodness in other souls as the elements find their constituent parts in +the atmosphere.</p> + +<p>Beth was looking her best that afternoon, although she had taken no +pains with herself. She seemed well dressed by dint of looking well in +her clothes; but she had not chosen to make herself look well. In the +exasperated phase of revolt through which she was passing, she could not +have been persuaded to dress so as to heighten the effect of her +appearance, and so make of herself a trap to catch admiring glances. To +be neat and fresh was all her care; but that was enough. The young man +with the pointed beard, who had been looking about the room uneasily, +seemed to have found what he wanted when he noticed her. He asked an +elderly man standing near him who the young lady of distinguished +appearance might be. "A friend of Mrs. Kilroy's, I believe," the +gentleman answered, and moved off as if he resented the question.</p> + +<p>But Pointed Beard was persistent. He asked two or three other people, +strangers, who did not know either, and then he made his way to Mrs. +Kilroy, but she was so surrounded he could not get near her. At last he +bethought him of the servants who were handing tea about, and learnt +Beth's name from one of them.</p> + +<p>When Beth next noticed him, he was making his way towards her with a cup +of tea in one hand and a plate of cakes in the other.</p> + +<p>"I have ventured to bring you some tea," he said, "but I do not know if +it is as you like it. I can easily get you some more, however, if it is +not."</p> + +<p>"Thank you; I do not want any," Beth answered somewhat coldly.</p> + +<p>"I'll put it here, then, on this console," he rejoined. "If I +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_448" id="Page_448">[Pg 448]</a></span> move away +I shall not be able to get near you again in this crowd. I wonder why +Mrs. Kilroy has so many people. Now, <i>I</i> like just a few, eight or ten +for a dinner, you know, and twenty or so on these sort of occasions. And +they must all be interesting people, worth talking to. I am exceedingly +fastidious about the kind of people I know. Even as a boy I was +fastidious."</p> + +<p>As he uttered that last sentence, Beth was again aware of something +familiar in his appearance, and she felt sure she had heard him make +that same remark more than once before—but when? but where?</p> + +<p>"That is Lord Fitzkillingham," he continued, "that tall man who has just +come in—see, there!—shaking hands with Mrs. Kilroy. He looks like a +duke, don't you know. I admire people of distinguished appearance much +more than good-looking people—people who are merely good-looking, I +mean, of course. I saw <i>you</i> directly I came into the room, and was +determined to find out who you were; and I asked I can't tell you how +many people, whether I knew them or not. What do you think of that for +perseverance?"</p> + +<p>"You certainly seem to be persistent," Beth answered with a smile.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm nothing if not persistent," he rejoined complacently. "I'll +undertake to find out anything I want to know. Do you see that lady +there in black? I wanted to know her age, so I went to Somerset House +and looked it up."</p> + +<p>"What did you do that for?" Beth asked.</p> + +<p>"I wanted to know."</p> + +<p>"But did she want you to know?"</p> + +<p>"Well, naturally not, or she would have told me. But it is no use trying +to conceal things from me. I am not to be deceived."</p> + +<p>"You must be quite a loss to Scotland Yard," Beth ventured. "You would +have been admirably fitted for that—er—delicate kind of work."</p> + +<p>"Well, I think I should," he rejoined. "You see I found <i>you</i> out, and +it was not so easy, for—er—no one seemed to know you. However, that +does not matter. We'll soon introduce you."</p> + +<p>Beth smiled. "Thank you," she said drily, "that will be very nice."</p> + +<p>"I'll bring Fitzkillingham presently; he'll do anything for me. He was +one of our set at the 'Varsity. That's the best of going to the +'Varsity. You meet the right kind of people there, people who can help +you, you know, if you can get in with them as I did. You'll like +Fitzkillingham. He's a very good fellow."</p> + +<p>"Indeed!" said Beth. "What has he done?" +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_449" id="Page_449">[Pg 449]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Done!" he echoed. "Oh, nothing that I know of. Consider his position! +The Earl of Fitzkillingham, with a rent-roll of fifty thousand a year, +has no need to do; he has only to be. There, he's caught my eye. I'll go +and fetch him."</p> + +<p>"Pray do nothing of the kind," said Beth emphatically. "I have no wish +to know him."</p> + +<p>The young man, disconcerted, turned and looked her full in the face. +"Why not?" he gasped.</p> + +<p>"First of all, because you were going to present him without asking my +permission," Beth said, "which is a liberty I should have had to resent +in any case by refusing to know him; and secondly, because a man worth +fifty thousand a year who has done no good in the world is not worth +knowing. I don't think he should be allowed to <i>be</i> unless he can be +made to <i>do</i>. Pray excuse me if I shock your prejudices," she added, +smiling. "You do not know, perhaps, that in <i>our</i> set, knowing people +for position rather than for character is quite out of date?"</p> + +<p>The young man smiled superciliously. "That is rather a bourgeois +sentiment, is it not?" he said.</p> + +<p>"On the contrary," said Beth, "it is the other that is the huckster +spirit. What is called knowing the right people is only the commercial +principle of seeking some advantage. Certain people make a man's +acquaintance, and pay him flattering attentions, not because their +hearts are good and they wish to give him pleasure, but because there is +some percentage of advantage to be gained by knowing him. That is to be +bourgeois in the vulgar sense, if you like! And that is the trade-mark +stamped upon most of us—selfishness! snobbishness! One sees it in the +conventional society manners, which are superficially veneered, +fundamentally bad; the outcome of self-interest, not of good feeling; +one knows exactly how, where, and when they will break down."</p> + +<p>"What are you holding forth about, Beth?" said Mrs. Kilroy, coming up +behind her.</p> + +<p>"The best people," Beth answered, smiling.</p> + +<p>"You mean the people who call themselves the best people—Society, that +is to say," said Mrs. Kilroy cheerfully. "Society is the scum that comes +to the surface because of its lightness, and does not count, except in +sets where ladies' papers circulate."</p> + +<p>"I am surprised to hear <i>you</i> talk so, Mrs. Kilroy," said Pointed Beard +in an offended tone, as if society had been insulted in his person.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry if I disappoint you," said Mrs. Kilroy. "And I confess I +like my own set and their pretty manners; but I know their weaknesses. +There is no snob so snobbish as a snob of good birth. The upper classes +will be the last to learn that +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_450" id="Page_450">[Pg 450]</a></span> + it is sterling qualities which are +wanted to rule the world,—head and heart."</p> + +<p>"This gentleman will tell you that all that is bourgeois," said Beth.</p> + +<p>"I believe that at heart the bourgeois are sound," said Angelica. +"Bourgeois signifies good, sound, self-respecting qualities to me, and +steady principles."</p> + +<p>"But scarcely 'pretty manners,' I should suppose," said Pointed Beard +superciliously.</p> + +<p>"Why not?" said Angelica. "Sincerity and refinement make good manners, +and principle is the parent of both."</p> + +<p>"Don't you think that for the most part Englishwomen are singularly +lacking in charms of manner?" he asked precisely.</p> + +<p>"Just as Englishmen are, and for the same reason," said Angelica; +"because they only try to be agreeable when it suits themselves. A good +manner is a decoration that must be kept on always if it is to be worn +with ease. Good manners are rare because good feeling is rare, for good +manners are the outcome of good feeling. Manners are not the mere +society show of politeness, but the inward kindly sympathy of which +politeness is the natural outward manifestation; given these, grace and +charm of manner come of themselves."</p> + +<p>She moved off as she spoke to attend to other guests.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Kilroy is obvious," said Pointed Beard, in a tone that suggested +sympathy with Beth for being bored. "I wonder she did not give us 'For +manners are not idle,' et cetera, or something equally banal—the kind +of thing we are taught in our infancy——"</p> + +<p>"And fail to apply ever after," said Beth.</p> + +<p>"I see you are ready," he observed fatuously, striking the personal note +again, which she resented.</p> + +<p>"I dislike that cant of the obvious which there is so much of here in +town," she rejoined. "It savours of preciosity. All that is finest in +thought is obvious. A great truth, well put, when heard for the first +time, is so crystal clear to the mind, one seems to have known it +always. No one fears to be obvious who has anything good to say."</p> + +<p>He stroked his beard in silence for some seconds. "I suppose you go in +for politics, and all that sort of thing," he said at last.</p> + +<p>"Why?" Beth asked in her disconcerting way.</p> + +<p>"Oh, judging by your friends."</p> + +<p>"Not a safe guide," she assured him. "My friends have the most varied +interests; and even if they had not, it would be somewhat monotonous for +them to associate exclusively with people of the same pursuits." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_451" id="Page_451">[Pg 451]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Then you do not take an interest in politics?" he jerked out, almost +irritably, as if he had a right to know.</p> + +<p>For a moment Beth had a mind to baffle him for his tasteless +persistency, but her natural directness saved her from such +small-mindedness. "If I must answer your catechism," she said, smiling, +"social subjects interest me more. I find generalisations bald and +misleading, and politics are a generalisation of events. I rarely read a +political speech through, and remember very little of what it is all +about when I do. Details, individuals, and actions fascinate me, but the +circumstances of a people as a state rarely interest me much."</p> + +<p>"Ah, I fear that is—er—a feminine point of view, rather—is it not?" +he rejoined patronisingly.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said, "and a scientific method. We go from the particular to +the general, and only draw broad conclusions when we have collected our +facts in detail. But excuse me, I see a friend," she broke off hastily, +seizing the chance to escape.</p> + +<p>A little later Beth saw that the demure-looking little person in the +princess bonnet was taking her leave. She passed down the room with her +set little smile on her lips, looking about her, but apparently without +seeing any one in particular till she got to the door, when her eye +lighted on the young man of Shakesperian mien, and her smile flickered a +moment, and went out. The young man turned and looked at a picture with +an elaborately casual air, then sauntered across the room to Mrs. +Kilroy, shook hands with her, spoke to one or two other people, and +finally reached the door and opened it with the same solemn affectation +of not being in a hurry, and disappeared. Beth wondered if he kept his +caution up before the footmen in the hall, or if he made an undignified +bolt of it the moment he was out of sight of society.</p> + +<p>At dinner that evening she asked Mrs. Kilroy who and what that +thin-nosed man, that sort of reminiscence of Shakespeare, was.</p> + +<p>"He is by way of being a literary man, I believe," Angelica answered. +"He is not a friend of ours, and I cannot think why he comes here. I +never ask him. He got himself introduced to me somehow, and then came +and called, which I thought an impertinence. Did you notice that woman +with an Alsatian bow in her bonnet, that made her look like a horse with +its ears laid back? Her pose is to improve young men. She improves them +away from their wives, and I object to the method; and I do not ask her +here either. Yet she comes. His wife I have much sympathy with; but he +keeps her in the country, out of the way, so I see very little of her."</p> + +<p>"What is his name?" Beth asked. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_452" id="Page_452">[Pg 452]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Alfred Cayley Pounce."</p> + +<p>"Why!" Beth exclaimed. "He must be a youth I knew long ago, when I was a +child. I was sure I had seen him before. But what a falling off! I +wondered if he were an old young man, or a young old man when I first +saw him. He was refined as a boy and had artistic leanings; I should +have thought he might have developed something less banal in the time +than a bald forehead."</p> + +<p>"That kind of man spends most of his time in cultivating acquaintances," +said Mr. Kilroy. "When he hasn't birth, his pose is usually brains. But +Pounce took a fair degree at the University. And he's not such a bad +fellow, really. He's precious, of course, and by way of being +literary—that is to say, he is literary to the extent of having written +some little things of no consequence, upon which he assumes the right to +give his opinion, with appalling assurance, of the works of other +people, which are of consequence. There is a perfect epidemic of that +kind of assurance among the clever young men of the day, and it's +wrecking half of them. A man who begins by having no doubt of the worth +of his own opinion gets no further for want of room to move in."</p> + +<p>Next day Beth was alone in a sunny sitting-room at the back of the +house, looking out into grounds common to the whole square. It was about +tea-time. The windows were wide open, the sunblinds were drawn down +outside, and the warm air, fragrant with mignonette, streamed in over +the window boxes. Angelica had given this room up to Beth, and here she +worked or rested; read, wrote, or reflected, as she felt inclined; +soothed rather than disturbed by the far-off sounds of the city, and +eased in mind by the grace and beauty of her surroundings. For the room +was a work of art in itself, an Adams room, with carved white panels, +framing spaces of rich brocade, delicately tinted, on the walls; with +furniture chosen for comfort as well as elegance, and no more of it than +was absolutely necessary, no crowding of chairs and tables, no +congestion of useless ornaments, no plethora of pictures, putting each +other out—only two, in fact, one a summer seascape, with tiny waves +bursting on shining sands; the other a corner of a beautiful old garden, +shady with trees, glowing with flowers, whence two young lovers, sitting +on an old stone seat, looked out with dreamy eyes on a bright glimpse, +framed in foliage, of the peaceful country beyond. Angelica had thought +that room out carefully for Beth, every detail being considered, so that +the whole should make for rest and refreshment, and she had succeeded +perfectly. Nothing could have eased Beth's mind of the effect of her +late experiences, or strengthened it again more certainly, than the +harmony, the quiet, and the convenience of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_453" id="Page_453">[Pg 453]</a></span> + everything about her—books +on the shelves, needlework on the work-table, writing materials in +abundance on the bureau, exquisite forms of flowers, and prevailing +tints of apple-blossom, white, and pink, and green; music when she chose +to play; comfort of couch and chairs when she wished to repose; and, +above all, freedom from intrusion, the right to do as she liked gladly +conceded, the respect which adds to the dignity of self-respect, and +altogether the kind of independence that makes most for pleasure and +peace. Before she had been there three weeks she was happily released +from herself by the recovery of her power to work. She began to revise +the book she had thought so little of when it was first written. She had +brought it to town because it was not very bulky, rather than because +she had any hope of it; but when she took it out and read it here alone +in peace, it seized upon her with power, and, in her surprise, like +Galileo, she exclaimed: "But it does turn round!" The book was already +"radiant with inborn genius," but it still lacked the "acquired art," +and feeling this, she sat down to it regularly, and rewrote it from +beginning to end, greatly enriching it. She had no amateur impatience to +appear in print and become known; the thought of production induced her +to delay and do her utmost rather than to make indiscreet haste; her +delight was in the doing essentially; she was not one to glory in public +successes, however great, or find anything but a tepid satisfaction +therein compared to the warm delight that came when her thoughts flowed, +and the material world melted out of mind.</p> + +<p>She had been busy with her book that afternoon, and very happy, until +tea came. Then, being somewhat tired, she got up from the bureau at +which she worked, and went to the tea-table, leaving her papers all +scattered about; and she was in the act of pouring herself out a cup of +tea, when the door opened, and the footman announced, "Mr. Alfred Cayley +Pounce."</p> + +<p>Very much surprised, she put the teapot down deliberately and looked at +him. He held his hat to his breast, and bowed with exaggerated +deference, in an affected, foreign way.</p> + +<p>"I insisted on seeing you," he began, as if that were something to boast +of. "Perhaps I ought to apologise."</p> + +<p>Beth, not knowing what to say, asked him to sit down. Then there was a +little pause. He looked at the tea-table.</p> + +<p>"I see that you do take tea," he observed. "Why did you refuse it when I +offered you some yesterday?"</p> + +<p>"I am afraid I am not prepared to give you a reason," Beth answered +stiffly.</p> + +<p>"Would it be out of place if I were to ask for some tea?" he said.</p> + +<p>Beth silently poured him out a cup, and he got up, took what +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_454" id="Page_454">[Pg 454]</a></span> he wanted +in the way of sugar and cream and cake, and sat down again, making +himself very much at home.</p> + +<p>"Do take some yourself," he pleaded. "You are making me feel such an +outsider."</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon," said Beth, helping herself.</p> + +<p>She did not know whether to be annoyed or amused by his assurance. Had +she not known who he was she would certainly have been annoyed; but the +recollection of their days together, when the world was young and life +was all pure poetry, came upon her suddenly as she found something of +the boy in the face and voice of the man before her, making it +impossible for her to treat him as a stranger, and melting her into a +smile.</p> + +<p>"Confess that you were surprised to see me," he said.</p> + +<p>"I was," she answered.</p> + +<p>"And not glad, perhaps," he pursued.</p> + +<p>"Surprised means neither glad nor sorry," she observed.</p> + +<p>"D'you know, the moment I saw you——" he began sentimentally; "but +never mind that now," he broke off. "Let me give you my reason for +coming, which is also my excuse. I hope you will accept it."</p> + +<p>Beth waited quietly.</p> + +<p>"I told you I could always find out anything I wanted to know about +anybody," he pursued, "and last night I happened to sit next a lady at a +dinner-party who turned out to be a great friend of yours. I always talk +to strange ladies about what I've been doing; that kind of thing +interests them, you know; and I described the party here yesterday +afternoon, and said I only met one lady in the whole assembly worth +looking at and worth speaking to, and that was Mrs. Maclure, who was +staying in the house. 'Oh, I know her quite well,' the lady said. 'She's +a neighbour of mine at Slane. Her husband is a doctor, but I hear <i>she</i> +is connected with some of the best county people in the north. She's +very clever, I believe, and by way of being literary and all that sort +of thing, don't you know. But I don't think she has any one to advise +her.'"</p> + +<p>"Oh," said Beth, enlightened, "I know who my great friend is then—Mrs. +Carne!"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mr. Pounce, "and when I heard you were literary, I felt a +further affinity, for, as I daresay you have heard, I am a literary man +myself."</p> + +<p>"Yes; I heard you were 'by way of being literary,' too," Beth rejoined.</p> + +<p>"Who told you so?" he demanded quickly, his whole thought instantly +concentrated on the interesting subject when it concerned himself.</p> + +<p>"I do not feel at liberty to tell you," she replied. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_455" id="Page_455">[Pg 455]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Was it Mrs. Kilroy?"</p> + +<p>Beth made no sign.</p> + +<p>"Was it Mr. Kilroy?" he persisted.</p> + +<p>"I have already said that I shall not tell you, Mr. Pounce," she +answered frigidly.</p> + +<p>He sat in silence for a little, looking extremely annoyed. Beth, to +relieve the tension, offered him some more tea, which he refused curtly; +but as she only smiled at the discourtesy and helped herself, he saw fit +to change his mind, and then resumed the conversation.</p> + +<p>"When Mrs. Carne heard that I was a literary man," he said with +importance, "she begged me to do what I could to help you. She said it +would be a great kindness; so I promised I would, and here I am."</p> + +<p>"So it seems," said Beth.</p> + +<p>He stared at her. "I mean it," he said.</p> + +<p>"I don't doubt it," Beth answered. "You and Mrs. Carne are extremely +kind."</p> + +<p>"Oh, not at all!" he assured her blandly. "To me, at all events, it will +be a great pleasure to help and advise you."</p> + +<p>"How do you propose to do it?" Beth asked, relaxing. Such obtuseness was +not to be taken seriously.</p> + +<p>He glanced over his shoulder at the bureau where her papers were spread. +"I shall get you to let me see some of your work," he said, "and then I +can judge of its worth."</p> + +<p>"What have you done yourself?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"I—well, I write regularly for the <i>Patriarch</i>," he said, with the +complacency of one who thinks that he need say no more. "The editor +himself came to stay with us last week, and that means something. Just +now, however, I am contemplating a work of fiction, an important work, +if I may venture to say so myself. It has been on my mind for years."</p> + +<p>"Indeed," said Beth. "What is its purpose?"</p> + +<p>"Purpose!" he ejaculated. "Had you said pur-port instead of pur-pose, it +would have been a sensible question. It is hardly likely I shall write a +novel with a purpose. I leave that to the ladies."</p> + +<p>"I have read somewhere that Milton said the poet's mission was '<i>to +allay the perturbation of the mind and set the affections in right +tune</i>,'—is not that a purpose?" Beth asked. "And one in our own day has +talked of '<i>that great social duty to impart what we believe and what we +think we have learned. Among the few things of which we can pronounce +ourselves certain is the obligation of inquirers after truth to +communicate what they obtain.</i>'"</p> + +<p>"But not in the form of fiction," Alfred Cayley Pounce put in +dogmatically. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_456" id="Page_456">[Pg 456]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yet there is always purpose in the best work of the great writers of +fiction," Beth maintained.</p> + +<p>Not being able to deny this, he supposed sarcastically that she had read +all the works to which she alluded.</p> + +<p>"I see you suspect that I have not," she answered, smiling.</p> + +<p>"I suspect you did not find that passage you quoted just now from Milton +in his works," he rejoined.</p> + +<p>"I said as much," she reminded him.</p> + +<p>"Well, but you ought to know better than to quote an author you have not +read," he informed her.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean that I should read all a man's works before I presume to +quote a single passage?"</p> + +<p>"I do," he replied. "Women never understand thoroughness," he observed, +largely.</p> + +<p>"Some of us see a difference between thoroughness and niggling," Beth +answered. "I should say, beware of endless preparation! We have heard of +Mr. Casaubon and <i>The Key to all Mythologies</i>."</p> + +<p>"I understand now what your friend Mrs. Carne meant about the manner in +which you take advice," Mr. Alfred Cayley Pounce informed her, in a +slightly offended tone.</p> + +<p>Beth, wondering inwardly why so many people assume they are competent to +advise, prayed that she herself might always be modest enough to wait at +least until her advice was asked.</p> + +<p>"I hope I have not discussed your opinion impolitely," she said. "Pray +excuse me if you think I have."</p> + +<p>Mollified, he turned his attention once more to the littered bureau.</p> + +<p>"You have a goodly pile of manuscript there," he remarked; "may I ask +what it is?"</p> + +<p>"It is a little book into which I am putting all my ignorance," she +said.</p> + +<p>"I hope you are not going to be diffident about letting me see it?" he +answered encouragingly. "I could certainly give you some useful hints."</p> + +<p>"You are too kind," she said; and he accepted the assertion without a +suspicion of sarcasm. She rose when she had spoken, drew the lid of the +bureau down over her papers, and locked it deliberately; but the +precaution rather flattered him than otherwise.</p> + +<p>"You need not be afraid," he said. "I promise to be lenient. And if we +are as fast friends when the book appears as I trust we shall be, the +<i>Patriarch</i> itself shall proclaim its merits; if not——"</p> + +<p>"I suppose it will discover my faults," Beth put in demurely. "I wonder, +by the way," she added, "who told you you are so much cleverer than I +am?" +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_457" id="Page_457">[Pg 457]</a></span></p> + +<p>But fortunately Mrs. Kilroy came in and interrupted them before he had +had time to grasp the remark, for which Beth, from whom it had slipped +unawares, was devoutly thankful.</p> + +<p>When he had gone, she sat and wondered if she had really understood him +aright with regard to the <i>Patriarch</i>. Certainly he had seemed to +threaten her, but it was hard to believe that he had sunk so low as to +be capable of criticising her work, not on its own merits, but with +regard to the terms he should be on with its author. She was too upright +herself, however, to think such dishonest meanness possible, so she put +the suspicion far from her, and tried to find some charitable +explanation of the several signs of paltriness she had already detected, +and to think of him as he had seemed to her in the old days, when she +had endowed him with all the qualities she herself had brought into +their acquaintance to make it pleasant and of good effect.</p> + +<p>Beth had taken to rambling about alone in the quiet streets and squares +for exercise; and as she returned a few days later from one of these +rambles, she encountered Mr. Alfred Cayley Pounce coming out of a +florist's with a large bouquet of orchids in his hand.</p> + +<p>"You see I do not forget you," he said, holding the bouquet out to her. +"Every lady has her flower. These delicate orchids are for you."</p> + +<p>But Beth ignored the offering. "You are still fond of flowers then?" +slipped from her.</p> + +<p>"We do not leave a taste for flowers behind us with our toys," he +rejoined. "If we like flowers as children, we love them as men. The +taste develops like a talent when we cultivate it. To love flowers with +true appreciation of their affinities in regard to certain persons, is +an endowment, a grace of nature which bespeaks the most absolute +refinement of mind. And what would life be without refinement of mind!"</p> + +<p>Beth had walked on, and he was walking beside her.</p> + +<p>"And how does the book progress?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>"It is finished," she answered.</p> + +<p>"What! already?" he exclaimed. "Why, it takes <i>me</i> a week to write five +hundred words. But then, of course, my work is highly concentrated. I +have sent home for some of it to show you. You see I am pertinacious. I +said I would help you, and I will. I hope you will live to be glad that +we have met. But you must not write at such a rate. You can only produce +poor thin stuff in that way."</p> + +<p>Beth shrugged her shoulders, and let him assume what he liked on the +subject.</p> + +<p>They walked on a little way in silence, then he began again about the +flowers. "Flowers," he informed her, "were the great +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_458" id="Page_458">[Pg 458]</a></span> solace of my +boyhood—the sole solace, I may say, for I had no friends, no +companions, except a poor little chap, a cripple, on whom I took pity. +My people did not think me strong enough for a public school, so they +sent me to a private tutor, a man of excellent family, Rector of a large +seaside parish in the north. He only took me as a favour; he had no +other pupils. But it was very lonely in that great empty house. And the +seashore, although it filled my mind with poetry, was desolate, +desolate!"</p> + +<p>Beth, as she listened to these meanderings of his fancy, and recalled +old Vicar Richardson and the house full of children, thought of Mr. +Pounce's remarks about feminine accuracy.</p> + +<p>"But had you no girl-friend?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Only the lady of my dreams," he answered. "There was no <i>other</i> lady I +should have looked at in the place. I was always refined. I met the lady +of my dreams eventually. It was among the mountains of the Tyrol. +Imagine a lordly castle, with drawbridge and moat, portcullis and +pleasaunce, and sauntering in the pleasaunce, among the flowers, a +lady—dressed in white——"</p> + +<p>"Samite?" Beth ventured, controlling her countenance.</p> + +<p>"I cannot recall the texture," he said seriously. "How could one think +of textures at such a moment! That would have been too commercial! All I +noted was the lily whiteness—and her eyes, dark eyes! All the poetry +and passion of her race shone in them. And on the spot I vowed to win +her. I went back to the 'Varsity, and worked myself into the best set. +Lord Fitzkillingham became, as you know, my most intimate friend. He was +my best man at the wedding."</p> + +<p>"Then you married your ideal," said Beth. "You should be very happy."</p> + +<p>He sighed. "I would not say a word against her for the world," he +asserted. "When I compare her with other women, I see what a lucky man I +must be thought. But," he sighed again, "I was very young, and youth has +its illusions. As we grow older, mere beauty does not satisfy, mere +cleverness and accomplishments do not satisfy, nor wealth, nor rank. A +man may have all that, and yet may yearn for a certain something which +is not there—and that something is the one thing needful."</p> + +<p>They were opposite to the house by this time, and he looked up at the +windows sentimentally. "Which is yours?" he asked. "I pass by daily and +look up."</p> + +<p>They had stopped at the door. "I cannot ask you in," Beth said hastily. +"Please excuse me. This is my time for work."</p> + +<p>"Ah, the time and the mood!" he ejaculated. "I know it all so well! +Inspiration! Inspiration comes of congenial conversation, as I hope you +will find. You will take my flowers. I cannot claim to have culled them +for you, but at least I chose them." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_459" id="Page_459">[Pg 459]</a></span></p> + +<p>As the door had been opened, and the footman in the hall stood looking +on, Beth thought it better to take the flowers in a casual way as if +they belonged to her. A card tied to the bouquet by a purple ribbon fell +out from among the flowers as she took them. On it was written: "Mrs. +Merton Merivale." Beth held the flowers out to Mr. Pounce, with the card +dangling, and raised her eyebrows interrogatively.</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes," he began slowly, detaching the card as he spoke to gain time, +and changing countenance somewhat. "I confess some one else had had the +good taste to choose these orchids before I saw them; but I always +insist on having just what <i>I</i> want, so I took them, and suggested that +another bouquet might be made for the lady. I overlooked the card."</p> + +<p>Beth bowed and left him without further ceremony.</p> + +<p>She tossed the flowers under the table in the hall on her way upstairs, +and never knew what became of them. Later in the day she described her +morning's adventure to Angelica, and asked her if she knew who Mrs. +Merton Merivale was.</p> + +<p>"Oh, that woman in the princess bonnet with the big Alsatian bow, you +know," Angelica said. "Mr. Alfred Cayley Pounce's sometime intellectual +affinity."</p> + +<p>"Poor Alfred! he is too crude!" Beth ejaculated. "How I have outgrown +him!"</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>Ideala called next day, and found Angelica alone. "I hear that Beth is +with you?" she said. "What is she doing?"</p> + +<p>"Writing a book."</p> + +<p>"What kind of a book?"</p> + +<p>"Not a book for babes, I should say," said Angelica. "She does not +pretend to consider the young person in the least. It is for parents and +guardians, she says, not for authors, to see to it that the books the +young person reads are suitable to her age. She thinks it very desirable +for her only to read such as are; but personally she does not see the +sense of writing down to her, or of being at all cramped on her account. +She means to address mature men and women."</p> + +<p>"That is brave and good," said Ideala. "What is the subject?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," said Angelica; "but she is certain to put some of +herself into it."</p> + +<p>"If by that you mean some of her personal experiences, I should think +you are wrong," said Ideala. "Genius experiences too acutely to make use +of its own past in that way; it would suffer too much in the +reproduction. And besides, it can make better use and more telling of +what it intuitively knows than of what it has actually seen." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_460" id="Page_460">[Pg 460]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I do not think you believe that Beth will succeed," said Angelica.</p> + +<p>"On the contrary," Ideala rejoined, "I expect her success will be +unique; only I don't know if it will be a literary success. Genius is +versatile. But we shall see."</p> + +<p>Having finished her book, Beth collected her friends and read it aloud +to them. "I don't know what to think of it," she said. "Advise me. Is it +worth publishing, or had I better put it aside and try again?"</p> + +<p>"Publish it, by all means," was the unanimous verdict; and Mr. Kilroy +took the manuscript himself to a publisher of his acquaintance, who read +it and accepted it.</p> + +<p>"Oh," Beth exclaimed, when she heard the reader's report, "I do know now +what is meant by all in good time! If I had been able to publish the +first things I wrote, how I should have regretted it now! And I did +think so much of myself at that time, too! You should have heard how I +dogmatised to Sir George Galbraith; and he was so good and kind—he +never snubbed me. But I believe I am out of the amateur stage now, and +far advanced enough to begin all over again humbly and learn my +profession. But I find my point of view unchanged. Manner has always +been less to me than matter. When I think of all the preventable sin and +misery there is in the world, I pray God give us books of good +intention—never mind the style! Polished periods put neither heart nor +hope in us; theirs is the polish of steel which we admire for the labour +bestowed upon it, but by which we do not benefit. The inevitable ills of +life strengthen and refine when they are heroically borne; it is the +preventable ones that act on our evil passions, and fill us with rage +and bitterness; and what we want from the written word that reaches all +of us is help and advice, comfort and encouragement. If art interferes +with that, then art had better go. It would not be missed by the +wretched—the happy we need not consider. I am speaking of art for art's +sake, of course."</p> + +<p>"We need not trouble about that," said Ideala. "The works of art for +art's sake, and style for style's sake, end on the shelf much respected, +while their authors end in the asylum, the prison, and the premature +grave. I had a lesson on that subject long ago, which enlarged my mind. +I got among the people who talk of style incessantly, as if style were +everything, till at last I verily believed it was. I began to lose all I +had to express for worry of the way to express it! Then one day a wise +old friend of mine took me into a public library; and we spent a long +time among the books, looking especially at the ones that had been +greatly read, and at the queer marks in them, the emphatic strokes of +approval, the notes of admiration, the ohs! of enthusiasm, the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_461" id="Page_461">[Pg 461]</a></span> ahs! of +agreement. At the end of one volume some one had written: 'This book has +done me good.' It was all very touching to me, very human, very +instructive. I never quite realised before what books might be to +people, how they might help them, comfort them, brighten the time for +them, and fill them with brave and happy thoughts. But we came at last +in our wanderings to one neat shelf of beautiful books, and I began to +look at them. There were no marks in them, no signs of wear and tear. +The shelf was evidently not popular, yet it contained the books that had +been specially recommended to me as best worth reading by my stylist +friends. 'There is style for you!' said my friend. 'Style lasts, you +see. Style is engraved upon stone. All the other books about us wear out +and perish, but here are your stylists still, as fresh as the day they +were bought.' 'Because nobody reads them!' I exclaimed. 'Precisely,' he +said. 'There is no comfort in life in them. They are the mere mechanics +of literature, and nobody cares about them except the mechanicians.' +After that I prayed for notable matter to indite, and tried only for the +most appropriate words in which to express it; and then I arrived. If +you have the matter, the manner will come, as handwriting comes to each +of us; and it will be as good, too, as you are conscientious, and as +beautiful as you are good."</p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLVIII" id="CHAPTER_XLVIII"></a>CHAPTER XLVIII</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Alfred Cayley Pounce</span> + called on Beth continually. He was announced +one day when she was sitting at lunch with the Kilroys.</p> + +<p>"Really I do not think I ought to let you be bored by that man," Mr. +Kilroy exclaimed. "I once had ten minutes of the academic platitudes of +Mr. Alfred Cayley Pounce, and that was enough to last me my life. You +are too good-natured to see him so often. It is a weakness of yours, I +believe, to suffer yourself rather than hurt other people's feelings, +however much they may deserve it. But really you must snub him. There is +nothing else for it. Send out and say you are engaged."</p> + +<p>"If I do, he will wait until I am disengaged, or call again, or write in +an offended tone to ask <i>when</i> I can be so good as to make it convenient +to see him!" Beth answered in comical despair.</p> + +<p>"I don't believe he bores her a bit at <i>present</i>," Angelica observed. +"He is merely an intellectual exercise for Beth. She watches the +workings of his mind quite dispassionately, draws him out with little +airs and graces, and then adjusts him under the microscope. It interests +her to dissect the creature. When +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_462" id="Page_462">[Pg 462]</a></span> + she has studied him thoroughly, she +will cast him out, as a worthless specimen."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I hope that isn't true," said Beth, with a twinge of conscience. "I +own it has interested me to see what he has developed into; but surely +that isn't unfair?" She looked at Mr. Kilroy deprecatingly.</p> + +<p>"It is vivisection," said Angelica.</p> + +<p>"But under such agreeable anæsthetics that I should think he enjoys it," +said Mr. Kilroy. "I should have no objection myself."</p> + +<p>"Daddy, be careful!" Angelica cried. "A rare specimen like you is never +safe when unscrupulous naturalists are about."</p> + +<p>"But no microscope is needed to demonstrate Mr. Kilroy's position in the +scale of being," Beth put in. "It is writ large all over him."</p> + +<p>"Good and true, Beth!" said Angelica, smiling. "You can go and gloat +over your worthless specimen as a reward, if you like. But the +scientific mind is a mystery to me, and I shall never understand how you +have the patience to do it."</p> + +<p>Beth found Mr. Alfred Cayley Pounce pacing about her sitting-room, +biting his nails in an irritable manner.</p> + +<p>"You were at lunch, I think," he said. "I wonder why I was not asked +in?"</p> + +<p>Beth said nothing.</p> + +<p>"I consider it a slight on Mr. and Mrs. Kilroy's part," he pursued +huffily. "Why should <i>I</i> be singled out for this kind of thing?"</p> + +<p>"Aren't you just a little touchy?" Beth suggested.</p> + +<p>"I confess I am sensitive, if that is what you mean," he replied.</p> + +<p>"Well, yes, if you like," she said, "hyper-sensitive. But I thought you +asked for me."</p> + +<p>"It is true I came to see you; but that is no reason why I should be +slighted by your friends—especially when I came because I think I have +something to show you that will interest you." He took a little packet +from the breast-pocket of his coat as he spoke, and began to undo it. "I +took the trouble to go all the way home to get them to show you. My +mother was the only person who had them. They are photographs of myself +when I was a boy."</p> + +<p>"I wonder your mother parted with them," Beth said.</p> + +<p>"I persuaded her with difficulty," he rejoined complacently. "I have +often tried before, but nothing would induce her to part with them, +until this time, when a bright idea occurred to me. I told her they were +to be published among portraits of celebrated people when my new book +comes out, and naturally she liked the idea. Her only son, you know!" +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_463" id="Page_463">[Pg 463]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And are they to be published?" Beth asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh—well—of course I hope so—some day," he answered, smiling and +hesitating. "But the truth is I got them for you."</p> + +<p>Beth did not thank him, but he was too engrossed with his own portraits +to notice the omission. She was interested in them, too, when at last he +let her look at them.</p> + +<p>"What do you think of that?" he asked, showing her a good likeness of +himself as she remembered him. "I was a pretty boy then, I think, with +my curls! Burning the midnight oil had not bared my forehead in those +days, and my beard had not grown. Life was all poetry then!" he sighed +affectedly. What had once been spontaneous feeling in him had become a +mere recollection, only to be called up by an effort.</p> + +<p>"Later it became all excesses, I suppose," said Beth.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" he ejaculated in a tone of pleased regret. "I had to live like +other men of my standing, you know, and I had to pay for it. The boy was +lost, but the man developed. You may think the change a falling off——"</p> + +<p>He waited for Beth to express an opinion; but as it was impossible for +her to say what she thought of the difference between the conceited, +dissipated-looking, hysterical man of many meannesses, and the diffident +unspoilt promising boy, she held her peace.</p> + +<p>When she had seen the photographs, and he had looked at them himself to +his heart's content, he did them up again, and then formally presented +her with the packet. "Will you keep them?" he said solemnly.</p> + +<p>"Oh no!" she answered with decision. "I am not the proper person to keep +them. If they did not belong to your mother, they would be for your wife +and children."</p> + +<p>"Ah, my wife!" he ejaculated bitterly. "I haven't a word to say against +my wife, remember that! Only—you are the one to whom I would confide +them."</p> + +<p>"I decline the responsibility," Beth said, keeping her countenance with +difficulty.</p> + +<p>He returned the packet to the breast-pocket of his coat. "I shall carry +them here, then," he said, tapping his chest with the points of his +fingers, "until you ask for them."</p> + +<p>As usual, he stayed a preposterous time that day, and when at last he +went, even Beth's kindly forbearance was exhausted, and she determined +to see no more of him. He was not the man to take a hint, however, and +it was no easy matter to get rid of him. He sent her flowers, for which +she did not thank him, books which she did not read; wrote her long +letters of the clever kind, discussing topics of the day or remarks she +herself had made, which she left unanswered; called, but never found +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_464" id="Page_464">[Pg 464]</a></span> +her at home, yet still persisted, until she was fain to exclaim: "Will +no one rid me of this troublesome priest?"</p> + +<p>"It is your own fault," said Angelica. "I warned you that good-nature is +wasted on that sort of man."</p> + +<p>"But surely he must see that I wish to avoid him," Beth exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Of course he sees it," Angelica rejoined, "but you may be sure that he +interprets your reluctance in some way very flattering to himself."</p> + +<p>"I shall really be rude to him," Beth said desperately. "He is a most +exasperating person, the kind of man to drive a woman mad, and then +blame her for it. I pity his wife!"</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>Beth stayed with the Kilroys until the end of June, when the season was +all but over and everybody was leaving town; and it was the busiest and +happiest time she had ever known. She had enjoyed the work, the play, +the society, the solitude, and had blossomed forth in that congenial +atmosphere both mentally and physically, and become a braver and a +better woman.</p> + +<p>The Kilroys were to go abroad the day that Beth returned to Slane. The +evening before, she went with Angelica to a theatre. But Angelica, being +much occupied at the moment with arrangements that had to be made for +the carrying on of her special work during her absence, was not able to +stay for the whole performance, so she left Beth alone at the theatre, +and sent the carriage back to take her home.</p> + +<p>Beth, sitting in the corner of a box, had eyes for nothing the whole +time but the play, which, being one of those that stimulate the mind, +had appealed to her so powerfully that even after it was over she +remained where she was a little, deep in thought. On leaving the +theatre, she found the footman on the steps looking out for her, and he +remained, standing a little behind her, till the carriage came up. While +she waited, she was annoyed to see Mr. Alfred Cayley Pounce making his +way towards her officiously. "You are alone!" he exclaimed, with a note +of critical disapproval in his voice, as if the circumstance reflected +on somebody.</p> + +<p>"Hardly!" Beth said, glancing up at her escort. "But even if I were, Mr. +Pounce, I am in London, not in the dark ages, and as sure of respect +here, at the doors of a theatre, as I am in my own drawing-room. I +believe, by the way," she added lightly, not liking to hurt him by too +blunt a snub, "I believe this is the only big city in Europe of which so +much can be said; and English women may thank themselves for it. We +demand not protection, but respect. Here is the carriage. Good night!" +She stepped in as she spoke, and took her seat. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_465" id="Page_465">[Pg 465]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh pray, you really must allow me to see you safe home," he exclaimed, +following her into the carriage and taking the seat beside her before +she could remonstrate. The servant shut the door, and they drove away. +Beth boiled with indignation, but she thought it more dignified not to +show it, and she dreaded to have a scene before the servants. Her +demeanour was somewhat frigid, and she left him to open the +conversation; but when he spoke she answered him in her usual tone. He, +on the contrary, was extremely formal. He stroked his pointed beard, +looked out of the window, and made remarks about the weather and the +people in the streets, not avoiding the obvious, which was a relief.</p> + +<p>The hall-door was opened as soon as the carriage stopped, and they got +out.</p> + +<p>"Thank you for your escort, and good night," Beth said, holding out her +hand to him, but he ignored it.</p> + +<p>"I feel faint," he said, and he looked it. "Will you let me come in and +sit down a minute, and give me a glass of water?"</p> + +<p>"Why, of course," Beth said. "But have something stronger than water. +Come this way, into the library. Roberts, bring Mr. Pounce something to +revive him."</p> + +<p>"What will you have, sir?" the butler asked.</p> + +<p>"A glass of water, nothing but a glass of water," Mr. Pounce said, most +preciously, sinking into an easy-chair as he spoke.</p> + +<p>The butler brought the water, and told Beth that Mr. and Mrs. Kilroy had +not come in. She ordered some tea for herself.</p> + +<p>Mr. Pounce sipped the water and appeared to revive.</p> + +<p>"I have suffered terribly during the last three weeks," he said at last.</p> + +<p>"Have you really?" Beth rejoined with concern. "What was the matter?"</p> + +<p>"Need you ask!" he ejaculated. "Why, why have you treated me so?"</p> + +<p>"Really, Mr. Pounce, I do not see that you have any claim on my special +consideration," Beth answered coldly.</p> + +<p>"I have the claim of one who is entirely devoted to you," he said.</p> + +<p>"I have never accepted your devotion, and I will not have it forced upon +me," Beth answered decidedly. "I should like you better, to tell the +truth, if you were a little more devoted to your duty."</p> + +<p>"You allude to my wife," he said. "Oh, how can I make you understand! +But you have said it yourself—duty! What is duty? The conscientious +performance of uncongenial tasks. But if a man does his duty, then he +deserves his reward. I do my duty with what heart I have for it. No +fault can be found +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_466" id="Page_466">[Pg 466]</a></span> + with me either as a husband or a citizen. Therefore, +as a man, I consider myself entitled to claim my reward."</p> + +<p>"I am afraid you are not well," Beth said. "Don't you think you had +better go home and rest?"</p> + +<p>"Not until we come to an understanding," he answered tragically.</p> + +<p>Beth shrugged her shoulders resignedly, folded her hands, and waited, +more interested in him as a human specimen in spite of herself than +disturbed by anything his attitude foreboded.</p> + +<p>There was a bright wood fire burning on the hearth. Mrs. Kilroy liked to +have one to welcome her when they had been out late, not for warmth so +much as for cheerfulness. The summer midnight was chilly enough, +however, for the gentle heat to be grateful; and Beth turned to the +blaze and gazed into it tranquilly. The clock on the mantelpiece struck +one. Roberts brought in a tray with refreshments on it, and set it down +on a small table beside Beth. Before she helped herself she asked Mr. +Pounce what he would have, but he curtly declined to take anything. She +shrugged her shoulders, and fell-to herself with a healthy appetite.</p> + +<p>"How can you—how can you?" he ejaculated several times.</p> + +<p>"I'm hungry," she said, laughing, "and I really don't see why I +shouldn't eat."</p> + +<p>"You have no feeling for me," he complained.</p> + +<p>"I have a sort of feeling that you are posing," she answered bluntly; +"and I wish you wouldn't. You'd better have some sandwiches."</p> + +<p>"How terribly complex life is!" he muttered.</p> + +<p>"Life is pretty much what we make of it by the way we live it," she +rejoined, taking another sandwich. "We are what we allow ourselves to +be. The complexities come of wrong thinking and wrong doing. Right and +wrong are quite distinct; there is no mistaking one for the other. In +any dilemma we have only to think what is right to be done, and to do +it, and there is an end of all perplexities and complexities. Principle +simplifies everything."</p> + +<p>"I see you have never loved," he declared, "or you would not think the +application of principle such a simple thing."</p> + +<p>"It is principle that makes love last," Beth answered, "and introduces +something permanent into this weary world of change. There is nothing in +life so well worth living for as principle; the most exquisite form of +pleasure is to be found in the pain of sacrificing one's inclinations in +order to live up to one's principles—so much so that in time, when +principle and inclination become identical, and we cease to feel +tempted, something of joy is lost, some gladness that was wont to mingle +with the trouble." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_467" id="Page_467">[Pg 467]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But principles themselves are mutable," he maintained. "They get out of +date. And there are, besides, exceptional characters that do not come +under the common law of humanity; exceptional temperaments, and +exceptional circumstances to which common principles are inapplicable, +or for which they are inadequate."</p> + +<p>"That is the hypocrisy of the vicious," Beth said, with her eyes fixed +meditatively on the fire, "the people who lay down excellent principles, +and publicly profess them for the sake of standing well with society, +but privately make exceptions for themselves in any arrangement that may +suit their own convenience. Your people of 'exceptional temperament' +settle moral difficulties by not allowing any moral consideration to +clash with their inclinations, and misery comes of it. The plea of +exceptional character, exceptional circumstances, exceptional +temperament, and what not, is merely another way of expressing +exceptional selfishness and excusing exceptional self-indulgence."</p> + +<p>"Surely <i>you</i> are not content to be a mere slave to social convention!" +he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"I am talking of fundamental principles, not of social conventions," she +replied; "please to discriminate. Self-control is not slavery, but +emancipation; to control our passions makes us lords of ourselves and +free of our most galling bonds—the bonds of the flesh."</p> + +<p>"What a drawback the want of—er—a proper philosophic training is," he +observed. "Culture does a great deal. It makes us more modest, for one +thing. I don't suppose you know, for instance, that you are setting up +an opinion of your own in opposition to such men as Schopenhauer. +Schopenhauer maintained that as the man of genius gave his whole life +for the profit of humanity, he had a license of conduct which was not +accorded to the rest of mankind."</p> + +<p>"If culture leaves us liable to be taken in by a false postulate of any +man's, however well turned the postulate or able the man, then I have no +respect for culture. The fact that Schopenhauer said such a thing does +not prove it true. An assertion like that is a mere matter of opinion. +Half the worry in the world is caused by differences of opinion. Let us +have the facts and form our own opinions. Have the men of genius who +allowed themselves license of conduct been any the better for it? the +happier? the greater? Schopenhauer himself, for instance!" She smiled at +him with honest eyes when she had spoken, and took another sandwich. +"But don't let us talk sophistry and silliness," she proceeded, "nor the +kind of abstract that serves as a cover for unrighteousness. Those +tricks don't carry conviction to my uncultivated mind. I know how +they're done." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_468" id="Page_468">[Pg 468]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You are lowering yourself in my estimation," he said severely.</p> + +<p>"And what comes after that?" she asked.</p> + +<p>He shook his head and gazed at her reproachfully. "How can you be so +trivial," he said, "in a moment like this?—you who are situated even as +I am. If we were to die now, in six months it would be as though we had +never been. No one would remember us."</p> + +<p>"But what have we done for any one," Beth asked, in her equable way, +"that we should be specially remembered?"</p> + +<p>He made no reply, and Beth went on with the sandwiches.</p> + +<p>"I thought," he began at last, "I did think that you at least would +understand and feel for me."</p> + +<p>Beth stopped eating and considered a moment.</p> + +<p>"Are you in any real trouble?" she asked at last.</p> + +<p>He rose and began to pace up and down. "I will tell you," he said, "and +leave you to judge for yourself."</p> + +<p>Beth looked somewhat ruefully at the tray, and wished that the +conversation had been more suited to the satisfaction of an honest +appetite.</p> + +<p>"I have made it plain to you what my marriage is without blaming +anybody," he proceeded. "It is the rock upon which all my hopes were +wrecked. I found my ideal. I won her like a man. I haven't a word to say +against her. She is a woman who might have made any ordinary man happy; +but she has been no help to me. It is not her fault. She has done her +best. And it is not my fault."</p> + +<p>"Then whose fault is it?" said Beth; "it must be somebody's. I think of +marriage as I think of life; it is pretty much what people choose to +make it. It does not fail when husband and wife have good principles, +and live up to them; and good manners in private as well as in +public—not to mention high ideals. When we are not happy in the +intimate relations of life, it is generally for some trivial reason—as +often as not because we don't take the trouble to make ourselves +agreeable, as because we fail in other duties. I consider it a duty to +be agreeable. In married life happiness depends on loyalty, to begin +with, the loyalty that will not even let its thoughts stray. All that we +want in everyday intercourse is truth and affection, kindness, +consideration, and unvarying politeness. If people practised these as a +duty from the first, sympathy would eventually come of the effort. +Marriage is the state that develops the noblest qualities, and that is +why happily married people are the best worth knowing, the most +delightful to live amongst. You have no fault to find with your wife, +therefore the fault must be in yourself if you are not happy. Do your +duty like a man, and cure yourself of it." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_469" id="Page_469">[Pg 469]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It surprises me to hear you talk in that way," he exclaimed, "you who +have suffered so much yourself!"</p> + +<p>"I make no pretence of having suffered," she answered. "I have no +patience with people who do. We have our destiny in our own hands to +make or mar, most of us. If we fail in one thing we shall succeed in +another. Life is a fertile garden, full of plants that bud and blossom +and bear fruit not once but every season while it lasts. If the crop of +happiness fails one year, we should set to work bravely, and cultivate +it all the more diligently for the next."</p> + +<p>"All this is beside the mark," he responded peevishly. "You are offering +me the generalisations that only apply to ordinary people. Allowance +<i>must</i> be made for exceptional natures. Look at me! I tell you if I had +met the right woman, I should have been at the top of the tree by this +time. I have the greatest respect for woman. I believe that her part in +life is to fertilise the mind of man; and if the able man does not find +the right woman for this purpose, he must remain sterile, and the world +will be the loser. I never knew such a woman till I met you; but in you +I have discovered one rich in all womanly attributes, mental, moral, and +physical; and, beyond these, dowered also with genius, the divine +gift—the very woman to help a man to do his best."</p> + +<p>"And what is the man going to do for me?" Beth inquired with a twinkle +in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"He would surround you with every comfort, every luxury—jewels——"</p> + +<p>"Like a ballet-girl!" she interjected. "I am really afraid you are +old-fashioned. You begin by offering me gewgaws—the paltry price women +set on themselves in the days of their intellectual infancy. We know our +value better now."</p> + +<p>"You should have all that an ideal woman ought to have," he put in. +"What more can a woman require?"</p> + +<p>"She would like to know what all she ought to have consists of," Beth +replied. "As a rule, a man's ideal woman is some one who will make him +comfortable; and he thinks he has done all that is necessary for her +when he allows her to contribute to his happiness."</p> + +<p>"Ah, be serious!" he ejaculated. "You should be above playing in that +cruel way with a man who is in earnest. Hear what I have to say. +Remember <i>we</i> are the people who make history. You talk about knowing +your own value! You do not know it. Without me you never will know it. +You do not know what is being said already about your unpublished work. +Those who have read it tell me you promise to be to England what Georges +Sand was to France when she appeared, a new +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_470" id="Page_470">[Pg 470]</a></span> light on the literary +horizon. But where would Georges Sand have been without De Musset? They +owe half their prestige to each other. While they were alive every one +talked of them, and now that they are dead reams are written about them. +Let us also go down to posterity together. All I want is you; what you +want is me. Will you—will you let me be to you—De Musset?"</p> + +<p>"What you really do want," said Beth, "is a sense of humour."</p> + +<p>"For God's sake, do not be trivial!" he exclaimed. "You cannot think +what this means to me—how I have set my heart on it—how I already seem +to hear the men at the clubs mention my name and yours when I pass. +Night after night I have paced up and down outside this house, looking +up at your window, thinking it all out."</p> + +<p>Beth flushed angrily. "I consider that a most improper proceeding," she +said, "and I do not know how you can excuse it to yourself."</p> + +<p>"I—much may be excused when a man feels as strongly as I do," he +protested.</p> + +<p>"And how about your wife?" said Beth, "where do you place her in your +plans? Has she no feelings to be considered?"</p> + +<p>"I shall not hurt her feelings, I assure you, I never do," he answered. +"I keep her in a quiet country place so that she may hear no gossip, and +I excuse my long absences from home on the plea of work. She understands +that my interests would suffer if I were not on the spot."</p> + +<p>"In other words, you lie to your wife," said Beth, aghast at the shabby +deceit.</p> + +<p>"That is scarcely polite language," he rejoined in an offended tone.</p> + +<p>"It is correct language," she retorted. "We shall understand what we are +talking about much better if we call things by their right names. But +are you never afraid of what your wife may be driven to in the dulness +of the country, while you are here in town, dancing attendance on other +men's wives?"</p> + +<p>"Never in the least," he answered complacently. "She is entirely devoted +to me and to her duty. Her faith in me is absolute."</p> + +<p>"And so you deceive her."</p> + +<p>"I am not bound to tell her all my doings," he protested.</p> + +<p>"You are in honour bound not to deceive her," Beth said; "and if you +deceive her it is none the less low because she does not suspect you. On +the contrary. It seems to me that one of the worst things that can +happen to a man is to have docile women to deal with."</p> + +<p>"I am grieved to hear you talk like that," he said. "I am +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_471" id="Page_471">[Pg 471]</a></span> really +grieved. It shows a want of refinement that surprises and shocks me. I +maintain that I do her no injury. These things can always be arranged so +that no one is injured; that is all that is necessary."</p> + +<p>"These things can never be arranged so that no one is injured," Beth +replied. "We injure ourselves, if no one else. We are bound to +deteriorate when we live deceitfully. How can you be honest and manly +and lead a double life? The false husband in whom his wife believes must +be a sneak; and for the man who rewards a good faithful wife by +deceiving her, I have no term of contempt sufficiently strong."</p> + +<p>"I am disappointed in you," he said. "I should never have suspected that +you were so narrow and conventional."</p> + +<p>"Are you prepared to defy public opinion?" Beth asked.</p> + +<p>"No, that would be gross," he said. "Outwardly we must conform. Only the +<i>élite</i> understand these things, and only the <i>élite</i> need know of them. +You are of the <i>élite</i> yourself; you must know, you must feel the power, +the privilege conferred by a great passion."</p> + +<p>"Pray do not class me with the <i>élite</i> if passion is what they respect," +Beth said. "Passion at the best—honourable passion—is but the +efflorescence of a mere animal function. The passion that has no +honourable object is a gaudy, unwholesome weed, rapid of growth, swift +and sure to decay."</p> + +<p>"Passion is more than that, the passion of which I speak. It is a great +mental stimulant," he declared.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Beth, "passion is a great mental stimulant—passion +resisted."</p> + +<p>"Georges Sand, whom I would have you follow, always declared that she +only wrote her best under the influence of a strong passion," he assured +her.</p> + +<p>"But how do we know that she might not have written better than that +best under some holier influence?" Beth rejoined. "George Eliot's +serener spirit appeals to me more. I believe it is only those who +renounce the ruinous riot of the senses, and find their strength and +inspiration in contemplation, who reach the full fruition of their +powers. Ages have not talked for nothing of the pains of passion and the +pleasures of love. Love is a great ethical force; but passion, which is +compact of every element of doubt and deceit, is cosmic and brutal, a +tyrant if we yield to it, but if we master it, an obedient servant +willing to work. I would rather die of passion myself, as I might of any +other disease, than live to be bound by it."</p> + +<p>Pounce, who had been pacing about the room restlessly until now, sat +down by the fire, and gazed into it for a little, discomfited. He had +come primed with the old platitudes, the old +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_472" id="Page_472">[Pg 472]</a></span> sophistries, the old +flatteries, come to treat amicably, and found himself met with armed +resistance, his flatteries and platitudes ridiculed, his sophistries +exposed, and his position attacked with the confidence and courage of +those who are sure of themselves.</p> + +<p>"Have you no feeling for me?" he said at last, after a long pause, +speaking somewhat hoarsely.</p> + +<p>"I feel sorry for you," was the unexpected answer.</p> + +<p>"Pity is akin to love," he said.</p> + +<p>"Pity is also akin to contempt," she rejoined. "And how can a woman feel +anything else for a man who is false to the most sacred obligations? who +makes vows and breaks them according to his inclination? If we make a +law of our own inclinations, what assurance can we give to any one that +we shall ever be true?"</p> + +<p>"I have found at last what I have yearned for all my life long," he +protested. "I know I shall never waver in my devotion to you."</p> + +<p>"That may be," she answered. "But what guarantee could you give me that +<i>I</i> should not waver? What comfort would your fidelity be if I tired of +you in a month?"</p> + +<p>Again he was discomfited, and there was another pause.</p> + +<p>"If you did change," he said at last, "I should be the only sufferer."</p> + +<p>Beth sat silent for a little, then she said slowly, "What you have +ventured to propose to me to-night, Mr. Cayley Pounce, is no more credit +to your intelligence than it is to your principles. You come here and +find me living openly, in an assured position, with powerful friends, +whose affection and respect for me rest on their confidence in me, and +with brilliant prospects besides, as you say, which, however, depend to +a great extent upon my answering to the expectations I have raised. You +allow that I have some ability, some sense, and yet you offer me in +exchange for all these——"</p> + +<p>"I offer you <i>love</i>!" he exclaimed fervently.</p> + +<p>"Love!" she ejaculated with contempt, "you offer me yourself for a +lover, and you seek to inspire confidence in me by deceiving your wife. +You would have me sacrifice a position of safety for a position of +danger—one that might be changed into an invidious position by the +least indiscretion—and all for what?"</p> + +<p>"For love of you," he pleaded, "that I may help you to develop the best +that is in you."</p> + +<p>"All for the prestige of having your name associated with mine by men +about town in the event of mine becoming distinguished," she +interrupted.</p> + +<p>He winced. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_473" id="Page_473">[Pg 473]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I only ask you to do what George Eliot did greatly to her advantage," +he answered reproachfully.</p> + +<p>"You asked me to do what Georges Sand did greatly to her detriment," +Beth said. "George Eliot is an after-thought. And you certainly have no +intention of asking me to do what she did, for she acted openly, she +deceived no one, and injured no one."</p> + +<p>"And you do not blame her?" he exclaimed with a flash of hope.</p> + +<p>Beth answered indirectly: "When I think about that, I ask myself have +Church and State arranged the relations of the sexes successfully enough +to convince us that they cannot be better arranged? Are marriages holier +now than they were in the days when there were no churches to bless +them? or happier here than in other countries where they are simple +private contracts? And it seems to me that we have no historical proof +that the legal bond is necessarily the holiest between man and woman, or +that there is never justification for a more irregular compact. I know +that 'holy matrimony' is often a state of absolute degradation, +especially for the woman; and I believe that two honourable people can +live together honourably without the conventional bond, so long as no +one else is injured, no previous compact broken. But all the same I +think the legal bond is best. It is a safeguard to the family and a +restraint on the unprincipled. And, at any rate, all my experience, all +my thought, all my hope argue for the dignity of permanence in human +relations. Anything else is bad for the individual, for the family, for +the state. As civilisation, as evolution advances from lower to higher, +we find it makes more and more for monogamy. Our highest types of men +and women are monogamous. Those whose contracts are lightly made and +lightly broken are trivial people. That useful Oneida Creek experiment +proved that the instinct, if not the ideal, of modern humanity is +monogamous."</p> + +<p>"What was that?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"A number of people formed a community at Oneida Creek to live together +in a kind of ordered promiscuity, but the experiment failed because it +was found eventually that the members were living together secretly in +pairs. No. The more I know of life the less I like the idea of allowing +any laxity in the marriage relation. In certain cases of course there is +good and sufficient reason for two people to separate. But I believe +that right-minded people can generally, and almost always do, make their +marriages answer. Marriage is compact of every little incident in life, +it is not merely made up of one strong feeling, otherwise men and women +would be as the animals who pair and part casually; therefore, if two +people are disappointed in each other in some things, they must have +other things in common to fall back upon. My ideal of life is love in +marriage and loyal friends." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_474" id="Page_474">[Pg 474]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It is interesting to hear you express these views," he said bitterly, +"considering what your experience has been."</p> + +<p>"I don't see that my petty personal experience has anything to do with +the truth of the matter," said Beth, bridling somewhat. "You really have +a poor opinion of me if you think I shall allow my judgment to be warped +by anything that may happen to myself. Because my own experience is not +a happy one, you would have me declare that family life is a mistake! +Doubtless many an outcry is raised for no better reason. But do you not +see yourself that the tranquil home-life is the most beautiful, the most +conducive to the development of all that is best in us—that there is +nothing like the delight of being a member of a large and united family. +Can you come into a house like this and not see it?"</p> + +<p>"This house was not always a model of domestic felicity," he sneered.</p> + +<p>"That proves my point," she rejoined. "The difficulties can be lived +down if people are right-minded."</p> + +<p>"Your argument does not alter the fact that I am a miserable man," he +said dejectedly.</p> + +<p>"You were not born to be a miserable man," she answered gently, "and 'we +always may be what we might have been.' But you have lost much ground, +Alfred Cayley Pounce, since the days when you roamed about the cliffs +and sandy reaches of Rainharbour with Beth Caldwell, making plans. You +had your ideals then, and lived up to them. You cultivated your flowers +for delight in their beauty, and went to your modelling for love of the +work. You gave your flowers to your friends with an honest intention to +please; you modelled with honest ambition to do good work. In those days +you were above caring to cultivate the acquaintance of the best people. +You had touched the higher life at that time; you had felt such rapture +in it as has never come to you since—even among the best people—I am +sure; yet you fell away; you deserted Beth—not basely, perhaps, but +weakly; and you have been deteriorating ever since."</p> + +<p>He had started straight in his chair when she mentioned Beth Caldwell, +and was staring at her now with puzzled intentness.</p> + +<p>"What do you know about Beth?" he said quickly. "Have you ever met her?"</p> + +<p>She smiled. "I can honestly say I never have," she answered. But she +looked away from him into the fire as she spoke, and he recognised the +set of her head on her shoulders as she turned it; he had noted it +often.</p> + +<p>"God!" he exclaimed, "what a blind idiot I have been—Beth! Beth!" He +threw himself down on his knees beside her chair, caught her hand, and +covered it with kisses. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_475" id="Page_475">[Pg 475]</a></span></p> + +<p>Beth snatched her hand away, and he returned embarrassed to his seat and +sat gazing at her for a little, then took out his handkerchief and +suddenly burst into tears.</p> + +<p>"What a mess I have made of my life!" he exclaimed. "Everything that +would have been best for me has been within reach at some time or other, +but I invariably took the wrong thing and let the right one go. But, +Beth, I was only a boy then, and I suffered when they separated us."</p> + +<p>This reflection seemed to ease his mind on the subject. That she might +also have suffered did not occur to him; as usual his whole concern was +for himself.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you are right, Beth," he proceeded. "I <i>have</i> deteriorated; but +'we always may be what we might have been'—and you have been sent to me +again as a sign that it is not too late for me. You were my first love, +my earliest ideal, and I have not changed, you see, I have been true to +you; for, although I never suspected you were Beth, I recognised my +rightful mate in you the moment we met. Yes, I was on the right road +when we were boy and girl together, but the promise of that time has not +been fulfilled. All the poetry in me has lain dormant since the days +when you drew it forth. I gave up modelling when I went to the 'Varsity +because they didn't care for that kind of thing in my set, you know. +They were all men of position, who wouldn't associate with artists +unless they were at the top of the tree; clever fellows, and good +themselves at squibs and epigrams. If you'd ever been to the 'Varsity +you'd know that a man must adapt himself to his environment if he means +to get on. My dream had been to make my visions of beauty visible, as +you used to suggest; but I had to give that up, there was nothing else +for it. Still, I was not content to do nothing, to be nobody; therefore, +when I abandoned the clay, I took to the pen; I gave up the marble for +the manuscript. Many men of position have written, you know, and so long +as you didn't mug, fellows didn't mind. In fact, they thought you smart +if they fancied you could dash things off without an effort. You +understand now why I am a literary man instead of a sculptor."</p> + +<p>"Perfectly," Beth said drily. "It was in those days, I suppose, that you +were bitten by French literature, and began to idealise mean intrigues, +and to delight in foul matter if the manner of its presentation were an +admirable specimen of style."</p> + +<p>"Ah," he said solemnly, "style is everything."</p> + +<p>"It is all work of word-turning and little play of fancy with those who +make style everything," said Beth, glad to get away from love, "and that +makes your Jack-of-style a dull boy and morbid in spite of his polish. +Less style and more humour would be the saving of some of you, the +making of others." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_476" id="Page_476">[Pg 476]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Flaubert wrote 'Madame Bovary' six times," he assured her impressively.</p> + +<p>"I wonder how much it lost each time," said Beth. "But you know what +Flaubert himself said about style before he had done—just what I am +saying!"</p> + +<p>"I cannot understand your being insensible to the charms of style," he +said, evading the thrust.</p> + +<p>"I am not. I only say it is not of the most vital importance. Thackeray +was a Titan—well, look at his slipshod style in places, his careless +grammar, his constant tautology. He knew better, and he could have done +better, and it would have been well if he had, I don't deny it; but his +work would not have been a scrap more vital, nor he himself the greater. +I have seen numbers of people here in town studying art. They go to the +schools to learn to draw, not because they have ideas to express, +apparently, but in the hope that ideas will come when they know how to +express them. And I think it is the same in literature. One school talks +of style as if it were the end and not the means. They form a style, but +have nothing to express that is worth expressing. It would be better to +pray the gods to send them the matter; if the matter is there in the +mind it will out, and the manner will form itself in the effort to +produce it—so said the great."</p> + +<p>There was a pause, during which Alfred Cayley Pounce sighed heavily and +Beth looked at the clock.</p> + +<p>"You were stimulating as a child, Beth," he said at last, "and you are +stimulating still. Think what it would be to me to have you always by my +side! I cannot—I cannot let you go again now that I have found you! We +were boy and girl together."</p> + +<p>"That does not alter anything in our present position," Beth answered; +"nor does it affect my principles in any way. But even if I had been +inclined—if I had had no principles, I should have been just clever +enough to know better than to run any risk of the kind you suggest. You +do not know perhaps that you have injured your own standing +already—that there are houses in which you are not welcome because you +are suspected of intrigue."</p> + +<p>"<i>Me</i>—suspected of intrigue!" he exclaimed. "It isn't possible!"</p> + +<p>Beth laughed. "If it is so disagreeable to be suspected," she said, +"what would it be to be found out! And what have you gained by it? What +says the Dhammapada? '<i>There is bad reputation, and the evil way (to +hell); there is the short pleasure of the frightened in the arms of the +frightened, and the king imposes heavy punishment; therefore let no man +think of his neighbour's wife.</i>'"</p> + +<p>"It is evident that you don't trust me," he said in an injured tone. +"Ah, Beth! does the fact that we were boy and girl together not weigh +with you?" +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_477" id="Page_477">[Pg 477]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, it would," Beth said soberly, "even if worldly wisdom were my +only guide in life. I should think of the time that we got into that +scrape, and you wriggled out of it, leaving me to shift for myself as +best I could; and I should remember the boy is father to the man. But I +have been trying to show you that worldly wisdom is not my only guide in +life. I have professed the most positive puritan principles of conduct, +and given you the reasons upon which they are based, yet you persist; +you ignore what I say as if you had not heard me or did not believe me, +and pursue the subject as if you were trying to weary me into agreement. +And you have wearied me, but not into agreement; so, if you please, we +will not discuss it any longer."</p> + +<p>"You will be sorry, I think, some day for the way you have treated me," +he exclaimed, showing temper; "and what you expect to gain by it I +cannot imagine."</p> + +<p>"Oh, please," Beth protested, "I am not imbued with the commercial +spirit of the churches. I do not expect a percentage in the way of +reward on every simple duty I do."</p> + +<p>"Virtue is its own reward," he sneered.</p> + +<p>"It has been said that 'the pleasure of virtue is one which can only be +obtained on the express condition of its not being the object sought,'" +she rejoined good-naturedly. "Try it, Alfred, and see if you do not +become a happier man insensibly. Order your thoughts to other and nobler +ends, for thoughts are things, and we are branded or beautified by them. +An American scientist has been making experiments to test the effect of +thought on the body, and has found that a continuous train of evil +thought injures the health and spoils the personal appearance, but high +and holy thoughts have a beautifying effect. Be a man and embrace a +manly creed. <i>Live for others, live openly.</i> Deceit is treachery, and +treachery is cowardice of the most despicable kind. Life has to be +lived. It might as well be lived earnestly. Life is better lived when it +is held earnestly. Personally I detest all flippancy and cynicism, all +cheapening of serious subjects by lack of reverence. Irreverence +portends defects of character and poverty of intellect. All serious +subjects are sacred subjects, and to treat them with levity or +insincerity is to prove yourself a person to be avoided."</p> + +<p>Alfred Cayley Pounce was stooping forward with his elbows on his knees +and his face between his hands, gazing blankly into the fire. The light +shone on his bald forehead and accentuated the lines which wounded +vanity, petty purposes thwarted, and an ignoble life had written +prematurely on his face, and his attitude emphasised the attenuation of +his body. He looked a poor, peevish, neurotic specimen; and although he +had only himself +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_478" id="Page_478">[Pg 478]</a></span> + to thank for it, Beth, remembering the promise of his +youth, felt a qualm of pity.</p> + +<p>"What a mistake my marriage has been!" he ejaculated at last. "But I +doubt if I should ever have found a woman who would have understood me +enough to be all in all to me. For a man of my temperament there is +nothing but celibacy."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe in celibacy at all," Beth said cheerfully. "Celibacy is +an attempt to curb a healthy instinct with a morbid idea. He is the best +man and the truest gentleman who honourably fulfils every function of +life. And I don't believe your marriage was of necessity a mistake +either. But if you must be miserable, be loyal as well. You will find +that the best in the end. If, being miserable, we are also disloyal, +then we are insensibly degraded—so insensibly, perhaps, that we are not +conscious of any part of the process, and only become aware of what has +been going on when we have to face a crisis, and find ourselves prepared +to act ignobly, and to justify the act with specious excuses." She +glanced up at the mantelpiece. "Come," she said, "it is four o'clock, +and I am sleepy. I must go to bed."</p> + +<p>He started to his feet. "Good heavens!" he exclaimed, "you can talk of +being sleepy when I——"</p> + +<p>"Never mind about that now," said Beth, yawning frankly. "Everybody has +gone to bed and forgotten us, I suppose. I shall have to let you out."</p> + +<p>She gathered the evening cloak she had come back in from the theatre +about her as she spoke, and led the way. He let her open the hall-door +for him. It was grey daylight in the street. At the foot of the steps a +policeman was standing on the pavement making a note in a little book.</p> + +<p>"Is it any use whistling for a hansom at this hour?" Beth asked.</p> + +<p>The policeman looked up at her. "I'll try, miss, if you like," he said.</p> + +<p>He whistled several times, but there was no response, and Alfred Cayley +Pounce at last crammed his hat down on his head with a peevish show of +impatience, and walked off down the street, without a word of +leave-taking. The fact that Beth was sleepy had wounded his vanity more +than any word she had said. She smiled and shrugged her shoulders as she +watched him depart, then went down on to the pavement and strolled +about, enjoying the freshness. The policeman kept watch and ward, +meanwhile, at the open door, and, before she went in, Beth stood and +talked to him a little in her pretty kindly way. She found his tone and +manner in their simple directness strengthening and refreshing to the +mind after the tortuous posings of Mr. Alfred Cayley Pounce. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_479" id="Page_479">[Pg 479]</a></span></p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLIX" id="CHAPTER_XLIX"></a>CHAPTER XLIX</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">At</span> breakfast next morning Beth described the way in which Mr. Alfred +Cayley Pounce had forced his attentions upon her the night before. Mr. +Kilroy was exceedingly angry. "He shall not come into any house of mine +again," he declared, and gave the old butler Roberts, who happened to be +the only servant in the room at the moment, orders to that effect. "Do +you mean to say," he asked Beth, "that the fellow had the assurance to +tell you he had actually been hanging about the house?"</p> + +<p>"He seemed rather proud of that, as of something poetical and romantic," +Beth answered.</p> + +<p>"I suppose the illness was all an excuse," Angelica observed.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," Beth said. "He certainly looked ill, but he's a poor +neurotic creature now, and might easily work himself up into a state of +hysterical collapse, I should think. What was your impression, Roberts?"</p> + +<p>"He looked real bad, ma'am; and well he might, the way he's been goin' +on, 'anging about 'alf the night We've all seen im," Roberts rejoined +imperturbably.</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you report it to me?" Mr. Kilroy wanted to know.</p> + +<p>"Well, sir, I couldn't be sure it was this 'ouse, sir, in partic'lar. +You see there's a good many in the square, sir. I was just waitin' to +make sure. He come after you'd gone last night, and said he 'ad to meet +the ladies, but he'd forgotten where they were goin' to, and James, +suspectin' nothin', told 'im."</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't think he will trouble me again," Beth said cheerfully, +concerned to see Mr. Kilroy so seriously annoyed. "I told him what I +thought of him in such unmistakable terms that he walked out of the +house without any form of farewell."</p> + +<p>Angelica looked grave. "I am afraid you've made a spiteful enemy, Beth," +she observed. "That kind of cat-man is capable of any meanness if his +vanity is wounded; if he can injure you, he will."</p> + +<p>"Oh, as to that, I don't see what he can do," said Mr. Kilroy.</p> + +<p>"He can supply the press with odious personal paragraphs, spread +calumnies at the clubs, and write scratch-cat criticisms on the book +when it appears," Angelica said. "There are plenty of people who will +listen to that kind of man, and take their opinions from him."</p> + +<p>"But what does it matter," said Beth in her tolerant way. "All you whom +I love and respect will judge me and my work +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_480" id="Page_480">[Pg 480]</a></span> + for yourselves. If you are +pleased, I shall rejoice; if you find fault, I shall be grateful and +profit. But I should be a poor shallow thing, like society itself, if I +allowed myself to be disturbed or influenced by the Alfred Cayley +Pounces of the press. And as to society!" Beth laughed. "At first, when +I went anywhere, I used to ask myself all the time when would the +pleasure begin! But now I am younger, thanks to you; and I enjoy +everything. I look on and laugh. But for the rest, I must be +indifferent. It would be an insult to one's intellect to set any store +on such tinsel as that of which the verdicts of society are made."</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>Beth had been thinking a good deal about Dan lately, and had come to the +conclusion that, with all his faults, he was very much to be preferred +to the Alfred Cayley Pounce kind of creature. She had more hope of him, +somehow; and she went back determined that it should not be her fault if +they did not arrive at a better understanding. He gave her a good +opportunity on the evening of her arrival. They were sitting out in the +garden after dinner, on that comfortable seat by the privet hedge which +Beth overlooked from her secret chamber. Behind them the hedge was +thick, and in front a border of flowers surrounded a little green lawn, +which was shut in beyond by a belt of old trees in full foliage. It was +an exquisite evening, warm and still; and Dan, having dined well, and +begun a good cigar, was in a genial mood. As he grew older he attached a +more enormous importance than ever to meals. If the potatoes were boiled +when he wanted them mashed or baked, it made a serious difference to +him, and he would grow red in the face and shout at the servants if his +eggs for breakfast were done a moment more or less than he liked. He was +a ridiculous spectacle in his impatience if dinner were late, and a sad +one in his sensual satisfaction if it answered to his expectations. Beth +watched him at such times with sensations that passed through various +degrees of irritation from positive contempt to the kindly tolerance one +feels for the greed of a hungry child. Dan had been "doing himself +well," as he called it, during her absence, and was looking somewhat +bloated and blotched. His wonderful complexion was no longer so clear +and bright as it had been; the red was redder and the white opaque. A +few more years and his character would be seen distinctly in the shape +and colour of his face; and Beth, who had marked the first signs of +deterioration slowly set in, was saddened by the progress it had made. +Alfred Cayley Pounce would succumb to his nerves, Daniel Maclure to his +tissues; the one was earning atrophy for himself, the other fatty +degeneration. Beth was right. The real old devil is disease, and our +evil appetites are his ministers. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_481" id="Page_481">[Pg 481]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You seem solemn this evening," Daniel said to her. "I suppose you're +regretting your friends."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Beth; "but I have been away long enough, and I am glad to be +back. I saw some things in the great wicked city that made me +think—Dan," she broke off abruptly, "I wish you and I were better +friends. So very little would bring us to a right understanding, and I +am sure we should both be the better and the happier."</p> + +<p>"Speak for yourself," said Dan complacently. "Personally, I feel good +enough and happy enough. We have our differences, like other people, I +suppose; but whose fault is that, I should like to know?"</p> + +<p>"Partly mine," Beth acknowledged. "I don't think I should have been so +defiant. But if you had been different, I should have been different."</p> + +<p>"If <i>I</i> had been different!" he ejaculated, knocking the ash from the +end of his cigar. "Well, I'd like to know what fault you have to find +with me? Different indeed!"</p> + +<p>"That is the principal one," Beth answered, smiling. "Your great fault +is that you don't believe you have any faults."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well," he conceded, "of course I know I've my faults. Who hasn't? +But I'll undertake to say that they're a <i>man's</i> faults. Now, come!"</p> + +<p>This reflection seemed to deepen his self-satisfaction, as if it must be +allowed that he was all the better for the faults to which he alluded. +As he spoke, Beth seemed to see him at her wardrobe with his hand in the +pocket of one of her dresses, hunting for treasonable matter to satisfy +his evil suspicions, and she sighed. She would not acknowledge to +herself that she was fighting for the impossible, yet even at the outset +she half despaired of ever making him understand. It is pitiful to think +of her, with her tender human nature, seeking a true mate where human +law required that she should find one, only to be repulsed and baffled +and bedraggled herself in the end if she persevered. A good man might +have failed to comprehend Beth, but a good man would have felt the force +of goodness in her, and would have reverenced her. Maclure recognised no +force in her and felt no reverence; all that was not animal in her was +as obscure to him as to the horse in his stable that whinnied a welcome +to her when she came because he expected sugar. It is pleasant to give +pleasure; but there must be more in marriage for it to be satisfactory +than free scope to exercise the power to please.</p> + +<p>"Well, look here, Dan," Beth pursued. "I'll make a bargain with you. If +you will do your best to correct your faults—what <i>I</i> think your +faults—I'll do my best to correct all you find in me. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_482" id="Page_482">[Pg 482]</a></span> Only let us +discuss them temperately, and try conscientiously to live up to some +ideals of thought and conduct."</p> + +<p>Dan smoked on silently for a little, then he said, with some show of +irritation tempering his self-satisfaction, "Well, all I can say is, I +cannot for the life of me see what you have to complain of."</p> + +<p>"I have to complain of your conduct with Bertha Petterick, for one +thing," Beth answered desperately. "Let us be frank with each other. I +know that you have not been loyal to me. I saw you together here on this +seat the day you gave her the bracelet. I saw you put it on her arm and +kiss her; and that decided me to go to Ilverthorpe."</p> + +<p>Dan looked round about him with an altered countenance, but nothing that +he knew to be a window overlooked the spot, neither was it possible to +see through the thickness of the privet hedge, nor from any other point, +without being seen.</p> + +<p>"You must have imagined it!" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"I did not imagine that bracelet," Beth replied.</p> + +<p>"Well, even if I did give her the bracelet," he said, "you're not going +to be nasty-minded enough to insinuate that there was anything in that!"</p> + +<p>"There was deceit in it," Beth answered, "and in your whole attitude +towards that girl while she was under this roof. If we act so that we +cannot be open and honest about our dealings with people, then there +must be something wrong. Life would be intolerable if it had to be lived +among people any one of whom, while professing friendship for us, was +deceiving us in some vital particular. From the moment that we act on +our own inclinations rather than up to what the noblest of our friends +expect of us, we have gone wrong. But you and I are both young enough, +Dan, to put the past behind us, and forget it. Let us start together +afresh in another place, where there will be no evil associations, +nothing to vex us by reminding us of unhappy days; and let us be loyal +to each other, and honest and open in every act, making due allowance +for each other, and doing our best to help and please each other. We +shall be happy, I am sure. You will see we shall be very happy."</p> + +<p>Dan took his cigar out of his mouth, and flicked the ash from the end of +it with his little finger: "You'd have me give up my appointment here, I +suppose, and the half of my income with it?"</p> + +<p>"Most of all I would have you give up your appointment here," she +answered earnestly. "No honest woman can endure to have her husband +pandering to vice. It would not be so much of a sacrifice either," she +added, "for the next session will end this iniquity." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_483" id="Page_483">[Pg 483]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Thanks to the influence of you cursed women," he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Thanks to our influence, yes," she answered dispassionately, "and to +some sense of justice in men."</p> + +<p>"If you knew how men talk about women who meddle in these matters," he +said, "you would keep out of them, I think."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know the kind of thing they say," she answered, smiling; "but the +people you mean have no influence nowadays. The blatant protest of the +debauched against our demand for a higher standard of life is not the +voice of the community. It is the cry of those who feel their existence +threatened, who only live upon lies, and must be extinguished when the +inevitable day of reckoning comes which shall expose them. Even now the +kind of man who catches at every straw of opinion which shall secure to +him his sacred carnal rights, at no matter what cost of degradation and +disease to women, is out of date, and we pay no attention to him."</p> + +<p>"Oh, women!" Dan jeered. "That is all very fine! But who the devil cares +what women think?"</p> + +<p>"Now don't be old-fashioned, Dan," Beth answered, laughing. "When women +only did what they were told, men used to vow at their feet that there +was nothing they couldn't accomplish, their influence was so great. But +now that women have proved that what they choose to do they can do, men +sneer at their pretensions to power, and try to depreciate them by +comparing the average woman with men in the front rank of their +professions. Really, men are disheartening."</p> + +<p>The evening calm had deepened about them, a big bright star was shining +above the belt of trees, and waves of perfume from the flowers made the +air a delight to inhale.</p> + +<p>"What a heavenly night!" Beth pursued. "Who would live in London when +they might be here?"</p> + +<p>"Well, that's consistent!" he exclaimed, "after entreating me to leave +the place!"</p> + +<p>"This is not the only peaceful spot in the world," she said with a +little sigh; "and I would rather live in London even than have you here +in an invidious position. Dan, give it up, there's a good fellow! and +learn to look on life from this newer, wider point of view. You will +find interests and pleasures in it you have never even suspected, I +assure you, and you will never regret it."</p> + +<p>"For the life of me," he said again, throwing the end of his cigar into +the bushes with an irritated jerk of his arm,—"for the life of me, I +cannot see what you have to complain of; and I shall certainly not give +up any bird in the hand for two such birds in the bush as you promise +me." He rose as he spoke, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_484" id="Page_484">[Pg 484]</a></span> + and shook out first one leg and then the +other to straighten his trousers. "I'm going out," he added. "I've a +patient to see. Ta! ta! Take care of yourself."</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>Some little time after Beth's return, they were sitting at lunch +together, and Maclure was reading a daily paper.</p> + +<p>"Matters look bad for that fellow, Cayley Pounce," he observed.</p> + +<p>"Why, what has he been doing?" Beth asked.</p> + +<p>"Poking a fellow's eye out with his umbrella," Dan answered. "He was +talking to a girl in the street one night, and got into a row with some +roughs, and jabbed one in the eye with his umbrella, and the fellow +died. The inquiry is now going on, and it's likely the coroner's jury +will bring in a verdict of manslaughter against Mr. Cayley Pounce. His +defence is that he wasn't anywhere near that part of London on that +particular night, and it's a case of mistaken identity; but as he +refuses to say where he was, and produces no evidence by way of an +alibi, that story won't avail him much."</p> + +<p>"What night was it?" said Beth.</p> + +<p>"On the 30th, just after midnight," Dan read out of the paper.</p> + +<p>"Why, that was the night he insisted on escorting me home from the +theatre," Beth exclaimed. "He did not leave the Kilroys' until four +o'clock in the morning."</p> + +<p>"Then why on earth doesn't he say so?" Dan asked.</p> + +<p>"I can't imagine," Beth said. "I let him out myself; everybody else had +gone to bed. And I'm sure of the time, because I thought he was never +going away, and I was tired; and I looked at the clock and said, 'It's +four o'clock, and I must go to bed.'"</p> + +<p>Dan's face had darkened. "Do you mean to say you were sitting up with +him alone?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"Yes, for my sins!" Beth answered in a tone of disgust. "The Kilroys +were out when I returned from the theatre, and did not come in till very +late; and they went straight upstairs, supposing I had gone to bed. As a +rule they come into the library first. So Mr. Cayley Pounce was left on +my hands."</p> + +<p>"Then," said Dan, pushing his plate away from him with a clatter, "it is +obvious why he is holding his tongue. He is determined not to compromise +you."</p> + +<p>"Thank you!" said Beth, bridling. "I should think I am not so easily +compromised."</p> + +<p>"Gad!" Dan ejaculated, "I don't know what you call easily compromised! A +man takes you home from a theatre, and stays with you alone till four +o'clock in the morning; if that isn't compromising I don't know what is. +No jury in the world would +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_485" id="Page_485">[Pg 485]</a></span> + acquit you, and the fellow knows that +perfectly well, and is holding his tongue to screen you."</p> + +<p>"I should think it's a great deal more likely he's holding his tongue in +order to get the credit of it," Beth observed drily. "It is a mere pose. +He knows I shall have to come forward to clear him if he doesn't explain +himself. I suppose I must go at once and stop the case; but if it were +not for his wife I declare I should hesitate. What is the form of +procedure? You will come with me, of course?"</p> + +<p>"<i>I</i> go with you!" Dan exclaimed brutally, "and see you make a public +exhibition of yourself, and bring disgrace on my name in a court of +justice! I'm damned if I do! And what's more, if you go, you don't +return to this house. I've too much self-respect for that. You hadn't +much of a reputation when I married you, and if you lose the little +you've got, you can go and I shall divorce you. My wife must be above +suspicion."</p> + +<p>Beth folded her serviette slowly while he was speaking, and, when he +stopped, she rose from the table.</p> + +<p>"It is unfortunate for me," she said, "that the Kilroys have gone +abroad. They know the man and the facts of the case, and would have +advised me. In their absence I must do what seems right without advice. +I cannot see that I have any choice in the matter. You could make it +perfectly easy for me by supporting me; if you do not support me I must +go alone. I shall pack up and go to town at once in order to appear in +court to-morrow morning, and I shall telegraph to Roberts, the Kilroys' +butler, to meet me there, and confirm my story. There are the coachman +and footman too, and the police constable—witnesses enough, in all +conscience."</p> + +<p>"You are determined to go?" Dan demanded angrily.</p> + +<p>"I must go," she rejoined.</p> + +<p>"It is going to the devil, then," said Dan deliberately; "and I always +said you would. Remember, you don't return to this house!"</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>When Beth arrived in town, she found that there would be no need to +appear in the case at all, for the Kilroys' old butler Roberts had seen +the name of Mr. Alfred Cayley Pounce in the papers, and had unwittingly +frustrated his manœuvre by going to the coroner's court himself and +volunteering to give evidence. He was accompanied by the footman who had +been out with the carriage on the night in question, and the two +together had no difficulty in proving an alibi. Thus, in an ordinary +commonplace manner, what had promised to be the triumph of his life, the +moment when he should stand confessed to the world a chivalrous +gentleman, sacrificing himself to save a lady +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_486" id="Page_486">[Pg 486]</a></span> of prepossessing +appearance, was converted into another of the many failures of Mr. +Alfred Cayley Pounce. This ended the case so far as he and Beth were +concerned; but with regard to Dan, Beth recognised that her position +remained the same. There was no return for her from the step she had +taken, and she would have to begin her life anew.</p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_L" id="CHAPTER_L"></a>CHAPTER L</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beth</span> went out into the world alone, knowingly and willingly. The +prospect had no terrors for her, neither did she feel any regret for the +past. She took it all as a matter of course. The days with Dan at Slane +were over, but life had still to be lived, and she set to work to +arrange it and live it to the best of her ability; what she most +urgently felt being merely that there were things she must see to at +once and settle about, and that she was rather pushed for time. The +first thing she did in London was to buy a map so that she might find +her way about economically, and some newspapers recommended to her by +the stationers as likely to have advertisements of respectable lodgings +in them. She studied these over a cup of coffee and a roll, cut all the +promising addresses out of the papers, found on the map the best way to +go by omnibus or railway, and then set off on her quest, taking the red +Hammersmith 'bus first of all, and explored West Kensington. Her efforts +in that direction were not successful. Everything she saw at first was +dear, dingy, and disheartening. Landladies, judging her by her +appearance, would only show her their best rooms. When she explained +that all she wanted was a nice, clean, roomy attic because she was poor, +they became suspicious, and declared that she wasn't likely to get +anything of that sort in a good neighbourhood. Beth wondered what the +bad neighbourhoods were like if the one she was in were a good one. +Later in the afternoon she found herself on the Bayswater side in a +street of tall houses off the main thoroughfare. They were good houses, +that must have been built for the families of affluent people, and Beth +was afraid it would be useless to ask at any of them for the modest kind +of accommodation which was all she could afford. While she hesitated, +however, standing in the street before the one she had come to find, the +hall-door opened, and a young man came out. He and Beth looked at each +other as he ran down the steps, and Beth saw something so attractive in +his face that she spoke to him without hesitation.</p> + +<p>"Can you tell me," she said, "if they have any attics to let at a +moderate price in this house?" +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_487" id="Page_487">[Pg 487]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, <i>I</i> got one out of them," he said, smiling, "and I guess there's +another empty that would just about hold you, dress boxes and all. I'll +ring the bell, if you'll allow me, and get Ethel Maud Mary to show you +up. You'll make a better bargain with her than with her ma."</p> + +<p>The door was opened at this moment by a grimy servant.</p> + +<p>"Gwendolen, will you give my compliments to Miss Ethel, if you please," +the young man said with grave formality, "and ask her if she will be so +good as to speak to me here for a moment."</p> + +<p>Gwendolen nodded and retired to the back regions, whence presently a +plump, fair-complexioned, yellow-haired young person came hurrying with +a look of inquiry on her face.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Miss Ethel," the young man began, taking off his hat, "I'm real +sorry to trouble you, but I want to introduce this young lady. I've been +recommending her to get a room here. I know she'll find you moderate and +comfortable, and the situation is one of the best for getting into +town."</p> + +<p>Beth recognised the wording of the advertisement that had brought her to +the house.</p> + +<p>"It <i>is</i> handy," Miss Ethel agreed. "But we've nothing but an attic +unlet. Are you in Art, miss?"</p> + +<p>"No, Literature," Beth answered, with presence of mind.</p> + +<p>"<i>Lady's</i>, I suppose?" Ethel Maud Mary observed, meaning lady's papers, +and glancing at Beth's dress. "You've got to be smart for that, and it +doesn't leave much for living. Come this way, miss, please. And thank +you, Mr. Brock, for mentioning us."</p> + +<p>She led the way upstairs, talking all the time with cheerful +inconsequence. "He's a real gentleman is Mr. Brock, as doubtless you +know, though an American, and dry, and you never know which is his fun; +and in Art, which is not much to reckon on, and that's why I thought +that you might be, though you do look more like Fashion. Art is apt to +be towzled, but why, goodness knows. You're not used to the stairs, I +see. I wish it wasn't such a height up."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't mind the height, if the price is proportionately low," Beth +said. "I must live within my means, and keep out of debt, you know."</p> + +<p>"That's a rhyme—low and you know. Did you do it on purpose?" Ethel Maud +Mary asked with interest.</p> + +<p>"No," said Beth.</p> + +<p>"Then that's for luck," said Ethel. "You'll keep out of debt all right. +I see it in your face. And I know a face when I see it. They'll keep you +on the <i>Lady's</i> for the sake of your appearance, even if you're not much +use. You're elegant and speak nice, and that's what they want to go +about for them, particularly if it's a man." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_488" id="Page_488">[Pg 488]</a></span></p> + +<p>"If what is a man?" Beth asked.</p> + +<p>"The editor, you know. We 'ad a young lady here who used to say she'd +undertake to get an extra half-sovereign out of any editor in town; but +editresses there was no managing. Which is yours?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know yet," said Beth. "I've only just arrived."</p> + +<p>"What are you getting?"</p> + +<p>"A pound a week," Beth answered, that being her exact income; "but I +have a little by me besides, to keep me going till I get started, you +know."</p> + +<p>Ethel Maud Mary nodded her yellow head intelligently, and began to climb +the narrow flight of stairs which led to the attics, moving her lips the +while, as if she were making calculations. There was no carpet on this +last flight of stairs, but the boards were well washed, and the attic +itself smelt sweet and clean.</p> + +<p>"This is it," Ethel explained. "Mr. Brock is in the other, next door. +There's only two of them. This is the biggest room, but the other is +north, and has the biggest window, and being in Art, he's got to think +of the light. If you look out there to the right, you'll see some green +in the Park. You'll like the Park. It's no distance if you're a walker. +Now, just let's see. I've been calculating about the money. Mr. Brock +pays fourteen shillings, but you'll not be able to afford more than +seven out of a pound. You shall have it for seven."</p> + +<p>"But surely that will be a loss to you!" Beth exclaimed.</p> + +<p>Ethel sat herself down on the side of the bed and smiled up at her. +"I'll not pretend we couldn't get more if we waited," she said; "but +waiting's a loss, and we're doing very well downstairs, and can afford +to pick and choose. You'll find in business that it pays better in the +end to get a good tenant you can trust, who'll stay, than one who gives +you double the amount for a month, and then goes off with the blankets."</p> + +<p>"You don't deceive me a bit," said Beth, sitting down opposite to her on +a cane-bottomed chair. "Your good-heartedness shines out of your face. +But I'm not going to take a mean advantage of it. There's an honest +atmosphere in this house that would suit me, I feel, and I am sure I +shall do well here; but all the same I won't come unless you make a +bargain with me. If I take the rooms for such a small sum now, while I +am poor, will you let me make it up to you when I succeed? I shall +succeed!" The last words burst from her involuntarily, forced from her +with emphasis in spite of herself.</p> + +<p>"That's what <i>I</i> like to hear; that's spirit, that is!" Ethel Maud Mary +exclaimed, nodding approvingly. "You'll do all right. So it's a bargain. +Washing's included, you know. You didn't bring your box, did you?" +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_489" id="Page_489">[Pg 489]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No, I left my luggage at Charing Cross when I arrived last night. I +slept at the hotel," Beth answered.</p> + +<p>"At the Charing Cross Hotel? Gracious! that must have cost you a small +fortune."</p> + +<p>"I didn't know what to do," Beth explained apologetically.</p> + +<p>"You should have tried the Strand, Surrey Street, and there. You'd have +got bed and breakfast for five shillings, and that's more than enough. +However, it's no use crying over spilt milk. You'll have to fetch your +luggage, I suppose. You can go by train from Nottinghill Gate to Charing +Cross. It's about as cheap as the 'bus, and much quicker. I'll come with +you, and show you the way, if you like. A breath of fresh air will do me +good."</p> + +<p>"Yes, do come," Beth answered gratefully, glad of the kindly human +fellowship. "What is your name, may I ask?"</p> + +<p>"Ethel Maud Mary Gill; and what is yours, if you please?"</p> + +<p>"Elizabeth Caldwell Maclure."</p> + +<p>Beth had emptied her secret chamber and packed all her little +possessions before she left Slane. She had sometimes suspected that Dan +would be glad of an excuse to get rid of her, to relieve himself of the +cost of her keep; and that he would do it in some gross way, and so as +to put all the blame of it upon her, if possible, she also expected. She +was therefore prepared to consider the matter settled the moment he +threatened her, and would have felt it useless to remonstrate even had +she been inclined. But she was not inclined. She had for years done +everything patiently that any one in any code of morality could expect +of her in such a marriage, and no good had come of it. As Daniel Maclure +was, so would he remain for ever; and to associate with him intimately +without being coarsened and corrupted was impossible. Beth had fought +hard against that, and had suffered in the struggle; but she had been +lowered in spite of herself, and she knew it, and resented it. She was +therefore as glad to leave Maclure as he was to get rid of her; and +already it seemed as if with her married life a great hampering weight +had fallen from her, and left her free to face a promising future with +nothing to fear and everything to hope. Poverty was pleasant in her big +bright attic, where all was clean and neat about her. There she could +live serenely, and purify her mind by degrees of the garbage with which +Dan's habitual conversation had polluted it.</p> + +<p>The settling-in occupied her for some days, and the housekeeping was a +puzzle when she first began. She had only been able to bring the most +precious of her possessions, her books and papers, and clothes enough +for the moment, away with her from Slane; the rest she had left ready +packed to be sent to her when she should be settled. When she wrote to +Maclure for them, she +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_490" id="Page_490">[Pg 490]</a></span> + sent him some housekeeping keys she had forgotten +to leave behind, and an inventory of everything she had had charge of, +which she had always kept carefully checked. He acknowledged the receipt +of this letter, and informed her that he had gone over the inventory +himself, and found some of the linen in a bad state and one silver +teaspoon missing. Beth replied that the linen had been fairly worn out, +but she could not account for the missing spoon, and offered to pay for +it. Dr. Maclure replied by return of post on a post-card that the price +was seven shillings. Beth sent him a postal order for that amount. He +then wrote to say that the cost of the conveyance of the luggage to the +station was half-a-crown. Beth sent him half-a-crown, and then the +correspondence ended. She received letters from some of her relations, +however, to whom Maclure had hastened to send his version of the story. +Poor old Aunt Grace Mary was the only one, who did not accept it. "Write +and tell me the truth of the matter, my dear," she said. The others took +it for granted that Beth could have nothing to say for herself, and her +brother Jim was especially indignant and insulting, his opinion of her +being couched in the most offensive language. Having lived with +disreputable women all his life, he had the lowest possible opinion of +the whole sex, his idea being that any woman would misconduct herself if +she had the chance and was not well watched. He warned Beth not to apply +to him if she should be starving, or to claim his acquaintance should +she meet him in the street. Beth's cheeks burned with shame when she +read this letter and some of the others she received, and she hastened +to destroy them; but the horror they set up in her brought on a nervous +crisis such as she had suffered from in the early days when Dan first +brought her down to his own low level of vice and suspicion, and turned +her deadly sick. She answered none of these letters, and, by dint of +resolutely banishing all thought of them and of the writers, she managed +in time to obliterate the impression; but she had to live through some +terrible hours before she succeeded.</p> + +<p>Once settled in her attic home, she returned to the healthy, regular, +industrious habits which had helped her so much in the days when she had +been at her best. Her life was of the simplest, but she had to do almost +everything for herself, such time as Gwendolen could command for +attendance being wholly insufficient to keep the attic in order. Her +daily duties kept her in health, however, by preventing indolence either +of mind or body, and so were of infinite use. She had added a few things +to the scanty furniture of her attic—a new bath, a second-hand +writing-table, book-shelves with a cupboard beneath for cups, saucers, +and glasses, and a grandfather chair—all great bargains, as +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_491" id="Page_491">[Pg 491]</a></span> Ethel Maud +Mary assured her. Ethel Maud Mary's kindness was inexhaustible. She took +Beth to the second-hand shop herself, and showed her that the +writing-table and book-shelves would be as good as new when they were +washed and rubbed up a bit; and all the grandfather chair wanted was a +new cretonne cover at sixpence a yard—four yards, two shillings, and +she could make it herself. She also advised Beth to buy a little +oil-stove, the only one she knew of that really didn't smell if you +attended to it yourself; and a tin to hold oil for it—crystal oil at +sevenpence a gallon, the best.</p> + +<p>"You can do all you want with that, and keep yourself warm enough too +when the weather's bad," she said; "and there's no waste, for you can +turn it out when you've done with it. Fires are too dear for you at +sixpence a scuttle for coals, and they're dirtier besides, and a trouble +to light and look after. You'll find it as good as a lamp, too, if +you're doing nothing particular at night."</p> + +<p>When Beth had made a cosy corner of the window for work, arranged her +books, put her ornaments about on mantelpiece and brackets, hung her +pictures and the draperies she had used in her secret chamber, spread +the rugs and covered the grandfather chair, her attic looked inviting. +The character of her little possessions gave the poor place a +distinction which enchanted Ethel Maud Mary.</p> + +<p>Beth fetched up the water overnight for her bath in the morning, and +made coffee for her breakfast on the little oil-stove. She lived +principally on bread and butter, eggs, sardines, salad, and slices of +various meats bought at a cook-shop and carried home in a paper. +Sometimes, when she felt she could afford it, she had a hot meal at an +eating-house for the good of her health; but she scarcely required it, +for she never felt stronger in her life, and so long as she could get +good coffee for her breakfast and tea for her evening meal, she missed +none of the other things to which she had been accustomed. She made +delicious coffee in a tin coffee-pot, and brewed the best tea she had +ever drunk in brown earthenware, which Ethel Maud Mary considered the +best thing going for tea. She used to join Beth in a cup up in the +attic, but she never came empty-handed. Dull wet days, likely to be +depressing, were the ones on which her yellow head appeared oftenest at +the top of the attic stairs.</p> + +<p>"Miss Maclure, may I come in?" she would say, after knocking.</p> + +<p>And Beth would answer, rising from her work with a smile of welcome, +"Yes, by all means. I'm delighted to see you. You take the big chair and +I'll make the tea. I'm dying for a cup."</p> + +<p>Then Ethel Maud Mary would uncover something she held +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_492" id="Page_492">[Pg 492]</a></span> in her hand, +which would prove to be cakes, or hot buttered toast and watercresses, +or a bag of shrimps and some thin bread and butter; and Beth, sparkling +at the kindness, would exclaim, "I never was so spoilt in my life!" to +which Ethel Maud Mary would rejoin, "There'll not be much to boast about +between two of us."</p> + +<p>Beth was busy with another book by this time, but found the work more of +a task and less of a pleasure than it used to be. Ethel Maud Mary still +took it for granted that she was a journalist, and showed no interest in +her work beyond hoping that she got her pay regularly, and would soon be +making more. Beth wondered sometimes when the little book which had been +accepted in the summer would appear, and what she would get for it, if +anything, and she thought of inquiring, but she put it off. Her new work +took all her time and strength, and wearied her, so that nothing else +seem to signify.</p> + +<p>Besides Ethel Maud Mary and Gwendolen, the only person she had to talk +to was Arthur Milbank Brock, the young American, her neighbour in the +next attic. She met him coming upstairs with his hat in his hand soon +after her instalment, and was even more attracted by his face than she +had been when she first saw him in the street.</p> + +<p>"You've settled in by this time, I hope," he said.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and very comfortably too, thanks to you," Beth answered.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Ethel Maud Mary's a good sort," he replied, "golden hair, blue +eyes, and all. She has the looks of a lady's novel and the heart of a +holy mother. Her grammar and spelling are defective, but her sense is +sound. I wouldn't give much for her opinion of a work of art, but I'd +take her advice in a difficulty if it came anywhere within range of her +experience. She knows this world well, but picks her steps through it in +such a way that I guess she'll reach the threshold of the next with nice +clean shoes."</p> + +<p>He stepped aside for Beth to pass when he had spoken, and stood a moment +watching her thoughtfully as she descended. "And may you too," he said +to himself as he turned to go up, then, perceiving that the hope implied +a doubt, he began to wonder whence it came.</p> + +<p>As Beth went out, she reflected on his face, on a certain gravity which +heightened its refinement. It was a young face, but worn, as by some +past trial or present care, and with an habitually sober expression +which contrasted notably with the cheery humour of his speech, adding +point to it, as is frequently the case with his countrymen. He wore his +thick brown hair rather longer than is usual, but was clean shaven. His +features +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_493" id="Page_493">[Pg 493]</a></span> + were delicate and regular, his eyes deep and dark, his head +large and finely formed. In figure he was tall and slim, and in his +whole appearance there was something almost ethereal, as of a young poet +or philosopher still moving among his fellow-men, yet knowing himself to +be prematurely smitten, set apart, and consecrated to death, by some +insidious slow disease from which there is no escape. This was Beth's +first notion of him, but she always hoped it was fanciful. She thought +about him a good deal in the solitary walks which were her principal +recreation. When she was tired of working or wanted to think, she used +to go out and wander alone. At first she was afraid to venture far, for +she had always been assured that she had no head for topography, and +would never be able to find her way; and so long as she went about under +escort, with some one to save her the necessity of observing, she never +knew where she was. Now, however, that she had to look after herself, +she found no difficulty after her first timidity wore off; and this +little experience taught her why it is that the intelligence of women +seems childishly defective as regards many of the details of the +business of life. They have the faculty, but when they are not allowed +to act for themselves, it remains imperfectly developed or is altogether +atrophied for want of exercise.</p> + +<p>It was in these days of peace that the ugly downward droop of the +corners of Beth's mouth, which had always spoilt the expression of her +face, entirely disappeared, and her firm-set lips softened into keeping +with the kindliness of her beautiful grey eyes; but she still wanted +much loving to bring out the natural tenderness which had been so often +and so cruelly nipped back in its growth. Beth had been born to be a +woman, but circumstances had been forcing her to become a career. +Strangely enough, some of the scenes she saw during her rambles in +London helped to soften her. While she was under her husband's +influence, she saw the evil only, and was filled with bitterness. London +meant for her in those days the dirt and squalor of the poor, the +depravity of the rich, the fiendish triumph of the lust of man, and the +horrible degradation of her own sex; but now that her mind was +recovering its tone, and she could see with her own eyes, she discovered +the good at war with the evil, the courage and kindliness of the poor, +signs of the growth of better feeling in the selfish and greedy rich, +the mighty power of purity at war with the license of man, and the noble +attitude of women wherever injustice was rife, the weak oppressed, and +the wronged remained unrighted; then her heart expanded with pity, and +instead of the torment of unavailing hate, she began to revive in the +glow of strengthening gleams of hope. It was in those days too that she +learnt to appreciate the wonder +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_494" id="Page_494">[Pg 494]</a></span> + and beauty of the most wonderful and +beautiful city ever seen; and her eyes grew deep from long looking and +earnest meditating upon it. She occasionally experienced the sickening +sensation of being followed about by one of those specimens of mankind +so significantly called "sly dogs" by their fellow-men. They made +themselves particularly objectionable in Kensington Gardens and Hyde +Park; but she found that an appeal to a policeman or a Park-keeper, or +to any decent workman, was enough to stop the nuisance. Genuine respect +for women, which is an antidote to the moral rottenness that promotes +the decay of nations, and portends the indefinite prolongation of the +life of a race, is of slow growth, but it is steadily increasing among +the English-speaking peoples.</p> + +<p>During her rambles, Beth composed long letters to her friends, but +somehow none of them were ever written. She had managed to send a few +hurried lines of explanation to Mrs. Kilroy in the midst of her packing +before she left Slane. As she had not known where she would be, she had +asked Angelica to address her letters to Slane to be forwarded; but no +reply had come as yet, and Beth was just a little sore and puzzled about +it. However, she knew that, what with her public and private duties, +Angelica was overwhelmed with work, and might well have overlooked the +fact that she had not answered Beth's letter, so Beth determined to +write again. Time passed, however, and she got into such a groove of +daily duties that anything outside the regular routine required a +special effort which she always postponed, and letters were quite +outside the regular routine. After the first no one wrote to her except +the old lawyer who sent her half-yearly dividend; and she had written to +no one. She had dropped altogether out of her own world, yet, because of +her work and of her power to interest herself in every one about her, +and to appreciate the goodness of her humblest friends, her life was +full, and she had not known a moment's discontent. Little things were +great pleasures now. To be able to get on the top of an omnibus at +Piccadilly Circus when the sun was setting, and ride to Hammersmith +Broadway, engrossed in watching the wonderful narrow cloudscape above +the streets, changing from moment to moment in form and colour; the +mystery of the hazy distances, the impression of the great buildings and +tall irregular blocks of houses appearing all massed together among the +trees from different points of view, and taking on fine architectural +effects, now transformed into huge grey palaces, large and distinct, now +looming in the mist, sketchily, with uncertain outlines, and all the +fascination of the fabrics, innocent of detail, that confront the +dreamer in enchanted woods, or lure him to the edge of fairy lakes with +twinkling lights all multiplied by their +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_495" id="Page_495">[Pg 495]</a></span> + own reflection in the water. +Beth had rolled in that direction in luxurious carriages often, and +never joyed in the scene, her mind being set on other things—things +prosaic, such as what she should wear, or whether she was late, scraps +of society gossip, conversations which had satiated without satisfying +her, and remained in her mind to be items of weariness if not of actual +irritation. She had noticed in those days how very seldom she saw a +happy face in a carriage, unless it was a very young face, full of +expectation. Even the very coachmen and footmen in the Park looked +enervated, as the long lines of carriages passed in wearisome +procession. And in everything there had been that excess which leaves no +room for healthy desire. At first, the shop windows, set out with +tasteless profusion, no article in the heterogeneous masses telling, +however beautiful, each being eclipsed by the other in the horrible +glut, had interested her, and she had looked at everything. But she soon +sickened at the sight. The vast quantities of things, crowded together, +robbed her of all pleasure of choice, and made her feel as if she had +eaten too much. Occasionally she would see two or three things of beauty +displayed with art in a large window; but everywhere else excessive +quantity produced indifference, disgust, or satiety, according to the +mood of the moment. And even in the days of her poverty and obscurity, +when her faculties were sharpened into proper appreciation by privation, +those congested windows teeming with jewels, with wearing apparel, with +all things immoderately, set up a sort of mental dyspepsia that was +distressing, and she was glad to turn away to relieve the consequent +brain-fag. But by degrees she became accustomed to the tasteless +profusion. It did not please her any better, but at all events it did +not afflict her by always obtruding itself upon her attention. She saw +it, not in detail, but as a part of the picture; and she found in the +new view of London and of London life from the top of omnibuses more of +the unexpected, of delight, of beauty for the eyes and of matter for the +mind, of humour, pathos, poetry, of tragedy and comedy, suggestive +glimpses caught in passing and vividly recollected, than she could have +conceived possible when she rolled along with society on carriage +cushions, soothed by the stultifying ease into temporary sensuous +apathy.</p> + +<p>Winter set in suddenly and with terrible severity that year. London +became a city of snow, cruelly cold, but beautiful, all its ugliness +disguised by the white mantle, all its angles softened, all its charms +enhanced. Commonplace squares, parks, gardens, and dirty streets were +transformed into fairyland by the delicate disposition of snow in +festoons on door-post and railing, ledge and lintel, from roof to +cellar. The trees especially, all frosted with shining filigree, were a +wonder to look upon; and Beth would +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_496" id="Page_496">[Pg 496]</a></span> + wander about the alleys in +Kensington Gardens, and gaze at the glory of the white world under the +sombre grey of the murky clouds, piled up in awesome magnificence, until +she ached with yearning for some word of human speech, some way to +express it, to make it manifest.</p> + +<p>She returned one afternoon somewhat wet and weary from one of her +rambles. The little window of her attic was half snowed up, and the +gloom under the sloping roof struck a chill to her heart as she entered; +but when she had lighted the lamp (a new investment that helped up the +temperature besides giving light), and set her little oil-stove going +with the kettle on it, her surroundings took on an air of homely comfort +that was grateful. As she busied herself preparing the tea, she noticed +that her neighbour in the next attic was coughing a good deal, and then +it occurred to her that she had not seen him about lately, and she +wondered if he could be ill. The thought of a young man of small means, +ill alone in a London lodging, probably without a bell in the room, and +certainly with no one anxious to answer it if he should ring, though not +cheering, is stimulating to the energy of the benevolent, and Beth went +downstairs to ask as soon as the notion occurred to her.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Brock? there now!" Gwendolen exclaimed in dismay. "If I didn't +forget altogether! I've so much to see to, and the missus ill in bed +with bronchitis, and Miss Ethel run off her feet, and not too fit +'erself with that cold as 'ud be called influenza if it wasn't for +frightening the lodgers. Whatever it is, it's going through the 'ouse, +and Mr. Brock seems to have got it bad. 'E ast me when I went wiv 'is +shyving-water this morning to tike 'im some coals and mike 'im some tea, +an' I never thought no more about it—I clean forgot."</p> + +<p>"This morning!" Beth cried. "Why that was at eight o'clock, and now it +is four!"</p> + +<p>"I'll get 'em at once," Gwendolen said with contrition. But the girl +herself looked worn to death. She had been on her feet since early +morning, and had no prospect of a rest till she dropped on her bed late +at night, too exhausted to undress.</p> + +<p>"Never mind," Beth said. "Give me the coals, and I'll carry them up, and +see to the rest. I have nothing else to do."</p> + +<p>"Bless you," Gwendolen muttered.</p> + +<p>Beth found Mr. Brock in bed, with bright eyes, and burning spots of +colour on each cheek. A lamp was burning beside him. When he saw who it +was, he raised his eyebrows; but smiled at the same time, as if he were +both surprised and pleased. The room struck cold to Beth.</p> + +<p>"What! no fire?" she exclaimed. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_497" id="Page_497">[Pg 497]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I tried to light the pesky thing," he said, "but it wouldn't burn."</p> + +<p>"Gwendolen forgot you altogether," Beth said. "She has far too much to +do, poor girl, and I have only just heard that you were ill. Why didn't +you call me?"</p> + +<p>He smiled again.</p> + +<p>"We are all of the same family here, you know," Beth said, "the great +human family. You had only to say 'Sister!' and I should have come."</p> + +<p>The smile faded from his lips, but it was replaced by another +expression, which, when she saw it, caused Beth to ejaculate inwardly, +"Surely of such are the Kingdom——"</p> + +<p>Each had seen in the other's face at the same time something there is no +human utterance to describe, and, recognising it, had reverently held +their peace.</p> + +<p>Beth fetched her oil-stove first, with the kettle on it, and, while the +water was boiling, she cut bread and butter and lighted the fire.</p> + +<p>"We'll have tea together, if you please," she said cheerfully. "I've a +horrible suspicion that you've had nothing to eat or drink all day."</p> + +<p>Her sympathy recalled his pleasant, patient smile.</p> + +<p>"My appetite is not devouring," he said, "but my thirst is. Talk about +selling one's birthright! I'd sell my brains, I believe, for a cup of +tea at this moment."</p> + +<p>"There's a bowl full for nothing, then," Beth rejoined. "Sip it while I +boil you an egg."</p> + +<p>He took the bowl in both hands and tried the tea.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" he exclaimed with a long-drawn sigh, "it's nectar! it's mead! it's +nepenthe! it's all the drinks ever brewed for all the gods in one! But +I'm afraid to touch it lest I should finish it."</p> + +<p>"Don't be afraid, then," said Beth, "for you'll find it like liquor for +the gods in another respect; it will be to be had whenever you want it. +What's the matter?"</p> + +<p>"Did I make lament?" he asked. "I didn't know it. But I'm all one ache. +I can't lie still for it, and I can't move without adding to it. I've +been watching the ice-floes on the river from the Embankment and bridges +by all lights lately; I never saw finer effects—such colour! It's +wonderful what colour there is under your sombre sky if you know how to +look for it; and it has the great advantage over the colour other +countries teem with of being unexpected. It's not obvious; you have to +look out for it; but when you have found it, you rejoice in it as in +something rare and precious, and it excites you to enthusiasm beyond +your wont—which should prevent chills, but it doesn't, as witness my +aches." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_498" id="Page_498">[Pg 498]</a></span></p> + +<p>Beth felt his hand and found it dry and burning.</p> + +<p>"The doctor is the next and only thing for you, young man, after this +frugal meal," she said, "and I'll go and fetch him. I hope to goodness +these are the right things to give you."</p> + +<p>He objected to the doctor, but she paid no attention to his +remonstrance, and when she had done all she could think of for the +moment, she put on her wet boots and walking things again, got the +address of a good man from Ethel Maud Mary, and sallied out into the +snow once more.</p> + +<p>Rheumatic fever was the doctor's diagnosis, and his directions to Beth +concluded with a long list of expensive medical comforts which it seemed +were absolutely necessary. She went out again when he had gone, and +brought back everything, toiling up the long flights of stairs with both +arms full, breathless but cheerful; and having set all in order for +use—sheets of medicated cotton-wool, medicines, Valentine's extract, +clinical thermometer and chart—she settled herself to watch the +patient, the clock, and the temperature of the room, which had to be +equable, with the exactness and method of a capable nurse. Before the +household retired, she went downstairs to fetch more coals, fearing they +might run short in the night.</p> + +<p>"He's 'ad one scuttle to-day," Gwendolen reminded her, warningly.</p> + +<p>"He must have two more, then, if necessary," said Beth.</p> + +<p>"They're sixpence a scuttle, you know," Gwendolen remonstrated.</p> + +<p>"Two for a shilling, and no charge for delivery," said Beth as she +toiled up the long ascent once more with her heavy burden.</p> + +<p>"Eh! it would be a gay glad world if they all took it like you," +Gwendolen muttered, as she stood, with the pencil in her mouth, studying +the slate that hung outside the coal-cellar, and let her generosity war +with her accuracy and honesty for a little before she made two more +strokes on the line that began with the name of Brock; and no sooner +done than regretted.</p> + +<p>"I wish to goodness I'd put 'em down to old Piggot and Mother Hauseman," +she thought. "They'd never miss the money, and it 'ud be a good deed for +the likes of them to help their betters, and might likely profit their +own souls, though unbeknown."</p> + +<p>For many weeks Beth watched beside the sick man's bed, doing all that +was possible to ease his pain day and night, snatching brief intervals +of rest when she could, and concealing her weariness at all times. She +used to wonder at the young man's uncomplaining fortitude, his +gentleness, gratitude, and unselfish concern about her fatigue. Even +when he was at his worst, he would struggle back to consciousness in +order to entreat her to lie +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_499" id="Page_499">[Pg 499]</a></span> + down; and when, to please him, she had +settled herself on a little couch there was in his room, he would make a +superhuman effort to keep still as long as his flickering consciousness +lasted. There was only one thing he was ever exacting about—to keep her +in sight. So long as he could see her he was satisfied, and would lie +for hours, patiently controlling himself for fear of disturbing her by +uttering exclamations or making other signs of suffering; but when she +had to leave him alone, he broke down and moaned in his weakness and +pain for her to come back and help him.</p> + +<p>The doctor having declared that the north-east aspect of his attic was +all against the patient, Beth insisted on changing with him, and, as +soon as he could be moved, she, Ethel Maud Mary, and Gwendolen, with the +doctor's help, carried him into her room in a sheet; an awkward +manœuvre because of his length, which made it hard to turn him on the +narrow landing; his weight was nothing, for he was mere skin and bone by +that time—all eyes, as Beth used to tell him.</p> + +<p>It was Christmas Eve when they moved him, and late that night Beth kept +her vigil by him, sitting over the fire with her elbows on her knees and +her face between her hands, listening dreamily to the clang and clamour +of the church-bells, which floated up to her over the snow, mellowed by +distance and full-fraught with manifold associations. As she sat there +she pondered. She thought of the long way she had drifted from the days +when she knelt in spirit at the call of the bells and lost herself in +happy prayer. She thought of her husband's hypocrisy, and the way in +which, when it dawned upon her, her own faith had melted from her; and +she pondered on the difference it would have made if only she had been +married early—just to a good man. It would not have been necessary for +her to have loved him—not with passion—only to have relied upon him. +Some one to trust, she craved for, more than some one to love; yet she +allowed that a loveless marriage is a mock marriage. She did not regret +the loss of her conventional faith, but she wished she could join the +congregation just for the human fellowship. She felt the need of union, +of some central station, a centre of peace, unlike the church, the house +of disunion. Without knowing it, she leant to Quaker-Catholicism, the +name assumed for her religious principles by Caroline +Fox—Quaker-Catholicism having direct spiritual teaching for its +distinctive dogma.</p> + +<p>"What are you thinking about?" Arthur Brock said suddenly from the bed.</p> + +<p>Beth started. She thought he was asleep.</p> + +<p>"God," she said; with a gasp, "and going to church," she +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_500" id="Page_500">[Pg 500]</a></span> added, +laughing at her own abruptness. "I was wanting a church to go to."</p> + +<p>"You don't belong to the Established Church, then," he said. "Well, I +don't go to church myself; but I make a difference on Sundays. I don't +work, and I read another kind of book. It is my day for the plains of +heaven. I should like to be there all the time, if I could manage it; +but I can't, not being a monk in a cell. When I can, I make the ascent, +however, with the help of the books that take one there."</p> + +<p>"I used to read religious books too," said Beth; "but I found little +illumination in them, most of them being but the dry husks of the +subject, uninformed of the spirit, containing no vital spark, and +stained with blood."</p> + +<p>"How?" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"This God of the Hebrews," Beth began, looking dreamily into the fire, +"what is his history? He loved cruelty and bloodshed. The innocent +animals first suffered in his service; but, not content with that, he +went from bad to worse, as men do, and ended by demanding human +sacrifice, the sacrifice of his own son. And for that specially we are +required to adore him, although it must be clear to the commonest +capacity to-day that the worship of such a deity is devil-worship. I do +not say there is no God; I only say this is not God—this blood-lover, +this son-slayer, this blind omniscience, this impotent omnipotence, this +merciful cruelty, this meek arrogance, this peaceful combatant; this is +not God, but man. The mind of man wars with the works of God to mar +them. Man tries to make us believe that he is made in the image of God; +but what happened was just the reverse. Man was of a better nature +originally, a more manifold nature. He had intellect for a toy to play +with on earth, and spirit for a power to help him to heaven. But instead +of toiling to strengthen his spirit, he preferred to play with his +intellect; and he played until he became so expert in the use of it, and +so interested in the game, that he forgot his origin. And then it was +that he projected an image of himself into space, and was so delighted +with his own appearance from that point of view, that he called it God +and fell down and worshipped it. If you would understand man, consider +God; if you would know his God, study man."</p> + +<p>Arthur Brock reflected for a little.</p> + +<p>"What you say sounds real smart," he said at last, "and there's a kind +of glamour in your words that dazzles and prevents one seeing just how +much they mean at first. It is true that religion culminates in human +sacrifice both here and in Africa, and, for refinement of horror, we +have here the literal bloody sacrifice of a son by his father. But that +is not God, as you +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_501" id="Page_501">[Pg 501]</a></span> + say; that is the ultimate of the priest. And the +priest is the same at all times, in all ages, beneath all veneers of +civilisation. His credit depends upon a pretence to power. He is not a +humble seeker after truth, but a bigoted upholder of error and an +impudent time-server. He destroys the scientific discoverer in one age; +in the next he finds his own existence is threatened because he refuses +to acknowledge that the discoverer was right; then he confesses the +truth, and readjusts his hocus-pocus to suit it. He does not ask us to +pin our faith to fancies which seem real to a child in its infancy, yet +he would have us credulous about those which were the outcome of the +intellectual infancy of the race. What he can't get over in himself is +the absence of any sense of humour. I'm real sorry for him at times, and +I tell him so."</p> + +<p>Beth smiled. "I could not be so kindly courteous," she said. "Some +things make me fierce. The kingdom of heaven is or is not within us, I +believe; and half the time I know it is not in me, because there is no +room for anything in me but the hate and rage that rend me for horror of +all the falsehood, injustice, and misery I know of and cannot prevent. A +sense of humour would save the church perhaps; but I'm too sore to see +it. All I can say is: your religion to me is horrifying—human sacrifice +and devil-worship, survivals from an earlier day welded on to our own +time, and assorting ill with it. I would not accept salvation at the +hands of such futile omnipotence, such cruel mercy, such blood-stained +justice. The sight of suffering was grateful to man when the world was +young, as it still is to savages; but we revolt from it now. We should +not be happy in heaven, as the saved were said to be in the old tales, +within sight of the sinners suffering in hell."</p> + +<p>"Which is to say that there is more of Christ in us now than there was +in the days of old," he said, speaking dispassionately, and with the +confident deliberation of one who takes time to think. "I believe those +old tales were founded on muddle-headed confusion of mind in the days +when dreams were as real to mankind as the events of life. There are +obscure tribes still on earth who cannot distinguish between what they +have done and what they have only dreamt they did, and probably every +race has gone through that stage of development. I don't know if +excessive piety be a disease of the nerves, as some say, although what +is piety in one generation does appear to be perversity in the next, as +witness the sons of the clergy, and other children of pious people, who +don't answer to expectation, as a rule. And I don't go much on churches +or creeds, or faith in this personality or that. The old ideas have lost +their hold upon me, as they have upon you; but that is no reason why we +should give up the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_502" id="Page_502">[Pg 502]</a></span> + old truths that have been in the world for all time, +the positive right and wrong, which are facts, not ideas. I believe that +there is good and evil, that the one is at war with the other always; +and that good can do no evil, evil no good. I've got beyond all the +dogma and fiddle-faddle of the intellect with which the church has +overlaid the spirit, and all the ceremonial so useful and necessary for +individual souls in early stages of development. I used to think if I +could find a religion with no blood in it, I would embrace it. Now I +feel sure that it does not matter what the expression of our religious +nature is so that it be religious. Religion is an attitude of mind, the +attitude of prayer, which includes reverence for things holy and deep +devotion to them. I would not lose that for anything—the right of +appeal; but now, when I think of our Father in heaven, I do not despise +our mother on earth."</p> + +<p>Beth sat some time looking thoughtfully into the fire. "Go to sleep," +she said at last, abruptly. "You ought not to be talking at this time of +night."</p> + +<p>"I wish you would go to sleep yourself," he said, as he settled himself +obediently; "for I lose half the comfort of being saved, while you sit +up there suffering for me."</p> + +<p>The expression was not too strong for the strain Beth had to put upon +herself in those days; for she had no help. Ethel Maud Mary and +Gwendolen felt for her and her patient, as they said; but there of +necessity their kindness ended. The other lodgers kept Gwendolen for +ever running to and fro; each seemed to think she had nobody else to +look after, and it was seldom indeed that any of them noticed her +weariness or took pity on her. Beth did everything for herself, fetched +the coals from the cellar, the water from the bath-room, swept and +dusted, cleaned the grate, ran out to do the shopping, and returned to +do the cooking and mending. Ethel Maud Mary stole the time to run up +occasionally to show sympathy; but her own poor little hands were +overfull, what with her mother ill in bed, both ends to be made to meet, +and lodgers uncertain in money matters. She lost all her plumpness that +winter, her rose-leaf complexion faded to the colour of dingy wax, and +her yellow hair, so brightly burnished when she had time to brush it, +became towzled and dull; but her heart beat as bravely-kind as ever, and +she never gave in.</p> + +<p>She climbed up one day in a hurry to Mr. Brock's room, which Beth +occupied, snatching a moment to make inquiries and receive comfort; and +as soon as she entered she subsided suddenly on to a chair out of +breath.</p> + +<p>"How you do it a dozen times a day, Miss Maclure, I can't think," she +gasped. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_503" id="Page_503">[Pg 503]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Those stairs have taught me what servants suffer," Beth said, as if +that, at all events, were a thing for which to be thankful.</p> + +<p>"You'd not have driven 'em, even if you hadn't known what they suffer," +said Ethel Maud Mary. "That's the worst of this world. All the hard +lessons have got to be learnt by the people who never needed them to +make them good, while the bad folk get off for nothing."</p> + +<p>"I don't know about not needing them," said Beth. "But I do know this: +that every sorrowful experience I have ever had has been an advantage to +me sooner or later."</p> + +<p>"I wish I could believe that Ma's temper would be an advantage to me," +Ethel Maud Mary said, sighing; "she's that wearing! But there, poor +dear! she's sick, and there's no keeping the worries from her. There's +only you and Mr. Brock in the house just now that pays up to the day, so +you may guess what it is! He's getting on nicely now, I suppose; but you +shouldn't be sitting here in the cold. A shawl don't make the +difference; it's the air you breathe; and you ought to have your +oil-stove going. Isn't the fire enough for him? I can't think so many +degrees it need be in his room always, when there's no degree at all in +yours."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm hardy," said Beth. "I never was better."</p> + +<p>"You look it," Ethel Maud Mary said sarcastically, "like a pauper just +out of prison. What are you worrying about?"</p> + +<p>"Beef-tea," said Beth. And so she was, and bread and butter, fuel, +light, and lodging—everything, in fact, that meant money; for the money +was all but done, and she had had a shock on the subject lately that had +shaken her considerably.</p> + +<p>She had spread out a newspaper to save the carpet, and was kneeling on +the floor, one morning, in front of the window, cleaning and filling the +little oil-stove, and Arthur was lying contentedly watching +her—"superintending her domestic duties," he used to call it, that +being all that he was equal to in his extreme weakness just then.</p> + +<p>"You're a notable housekeeper," he said. "I shouldn't have expected you +from your appearance to be able to cook and clean as you do."</p> + +<p>"I used to do this kind of thing as a child to help a lazy servant we +had, bless her," Beth answered. "The cooking and cleaning she taught me +have stood me in good stead."</p> + +<p>"If you had a daughter, how would you bring her up?" he asked.</p> + +<p>Beth opened the piece of paper with which she was cleaning the oil off +the stove, and regarded it thoughtfully. "I would bring her up in happy +seclusion, to begin with," she said. "She should have all the joys of +childhood; and then an education +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_504" id="Page_504">[Pg 504]</a></span> + calculated to develop all her +intellectual powers without forcing them, and at the same time to fit +her for a thoroughly normal woman's life: childhood, girlhood, wifehood, +motherhood, each with its separate duties and pleasures all complete. I +would have her happy in each, steadfast, prudent, self-possessed, +methodical, economical; and if she had the capacity for any special +achievement, I think that such an education would have developed the +strength of purpose and self-respect necessary to carry it through. I +would also have her to know thoroughly the world that she has to live +in, so that she might be ready to act with discretion in any emergency. +I should, in fact, want to fit her for whatever might befall her, and +then leave her in confidence to shape her own career. The life for a +woman to long for—and a man too, I think—is a life of simple duties +and simple pleasures, a normal life; but I only call that life normal +which is suited to the requirements of the woman's individual +temperament."</p> + +<p>"You don't clamour for more liberty, then?"</p> + +<p>"It depends upon what you mean by that. The cry for more liberty is +sometimes the cry of the cowardly anxious to be excused from their share +of the duties and labours of life; and it is also apt to be a cry not +for liberty but for licence. One must discriminate."</p> + +<p>"But how?"</p> + +<p>"By the character and principles of the people you have to deal +with—obviously."</p> + +<p>She had lighted her little oil-stove by this time, and set a saucepan of +water on it to boil. Then she fetched a chopping board and a piece of +raw beef-steak, which she proceeded to cut up into dice and put into a +stone jar until it was crammed full. Her sensitive mouth showed some +shrinking from the rawness, and her white fingers were soon dyed red; +but she prepared the meat none the less carefully for that. When the jar +was filled and the contents seasoned, she put it in the pot on the stove +for the heat to extract the juice.</p> + +<p>"What is it going to be to-day?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Beef-jelly," she said. "You must be tired of beef-tea."</p> + +<p>"I'm tired of nothing you do for me," he rejoined. "This is the homiest +time I've had in England."</p> + +<p>Beth smiled. In spite of poverty, anxiety, and fatigue, it was the +"homiest time" she had had since Aunt Victoria's death, and she loved +it. Now that she had some one she could respect and care for dependent +on her, whose every look and word expressed appreciation of her +devotion, the time never hung heavily on her hands, as it used to do in +the married days that had been so long in the living. It was all as +congenial as it was new to her, this close association with a man of the +highest character and the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_505" id="Page_505">[Pg 505]</a></span> + most perfect refinement. She had never before +realised that there could be such men, so heroic in suffering, so +unselfish, and so good; and this discovery had stimulated her +strangely—filled her with hope, strengthened her love of life, and made +everything seem worth while.</p> + +<p>She went on with her work in silence after that last remark of his, and +he continued to watch her with all an invalid's interest in the little +details of his narrow life.</p> + +<p>"It would be a real relief to me to be able to get up and do all that +for you," he finally observed. "I don't feel much of a man lying here +and letting you work for me."</p> + +<p>"This is woman's work," Beth said.</p> + +<p>"Woman's work and man's work are just anything they can do for each +other," he rejoined. "I wonder if I should get on any quicker with a +change of treatment. Resignation is generally prescribed for rheumatism, +and a variety of drugs which distract attention from the seat of pain to +other parts of the person, and so relieve the mind. My head is being +racked just now by that last dose I took. I should like to try +Salisbury."</p> + +<p>"What is Salisbury?" Beth asked.</p> + +<p>"Principally beef and hot water, to begin with," he replied. "You'll +find a little work on the subject among my books."</p> + +<p>Beth read the volume, and then said, "You shall try Salisbury. It is +easy enough."</p> + +<p>"Yes," he answered. "It is easy enough with a nurse like you."</p> + +<p>But in order to carry out the treatment some things had to be bought, +and this led to the discovery which was a shock to Beth. Arthur's income +depended principally upon the pictures he sold, and no more money came +in after he fell ill. He had had some by him, but not nearly so much as +he supposed, and it was all gone now, in spite of the utmost economy on +Beth's part. Her own, too, was running short, but she had not troubled +about that, because she still had some of her secret hoard to fall back +upon. She had left it in one of the boxes which were sent on after her +from Slane—a box which she had not opened until now, when she wanted +the money. The money, however, was not there. She searched and searched, +but in vain; all she found was the little bag that had contained it. She +was stunned by the discovery, and sat on the floor for a little, with +the contents of the box all scattered about her, trying to account for +her loss. Then all at once a vision of Maclure, as she had seen him on +one occasion with the bunch of duplicate keys, peering into her +dress-basket with horrid intentness, flashed before her; but she +banished it resolutely with the inevitable conclusion to which it +pointed. She would not allow her mind to be sullied by such a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_506" id="Page_506">[Pg 506]</a></span> +suspicion. And as to the money, since it was lost, why should she waste +her time worrying about it? She had better set herself to consider how +to procure some more. She had still some of Arthur Brock's, but that she +kept that she might be able to tell him truthfully that it was not all +done when he asked about it—a pious fraud which relieved his mind and +kept him from retarding his recovery by attempting to begin work again +before he was fit for it. What money she had of her own would last but a +little longer, and how to get more was the puzzle.</p> + +<p>Her evening dresses had been in the box which she had just unpacked, and +while she was still sitting on the floor amongst them cogitating, Ethel +Maud Mary came into the attic out of breath to ask how she was getting +on.</p> + +<p>"Why," she exclaimed in admiration of Beth's finery, "you've got some +clothes! They'd fetch something, those frocks, if you sold them."</p> + +<p>"Then tell me where to sell them, for money I must have," Beth rejoined +precipitately.</p> + +<p>"And it's no use keeping gowns; they only go out of fashion," Ethel Maud +Mary suggested, as if she thought Beth should have an excuse. "Gwendolen +would manage it best. She's great at a bargain; and there's a place not +far from here. I'd begin with the worst, if I was you."</p> + +<p>"Advise me, then, there's a dear," said Beth, and Ethel Maud Mary knelt +down beside her, and proceeded to advise.</p> + +<p>Only a few shillings was the result of the first transaction; but the +better dresses had good trimmings on them, and real lace, which fetched +something, as Ethel Maud Mary declared it would, if sold separately; so, +with the strictest self-denial, Beth was still able to pay her way and +provide for the sick man's necessities.</p> + +<p>From the time she put him on the Salisbury treatment, he suffered less +and began to gain strength; but the weather continued severe, and Beth +suffered a great deal herself from exposure and cold and privations of +all kinds. She used to be so hungry sometimes that she hurried past the +provision shops when she had to go out, lest she should not be able to +resist the temptation to go in and buy good food for herself. If her +sympathy with the poor could have been sharpened, it would have been +that winter by some of the sights she saw. Sometimes she was moved by +pity to wrath and rebellion, as on one occasion when she was passing a +house where there had evidently been a fashionable wedding. The road in +front of the house, and the red cloth which covered the steps and +pavement, were thickly strewed with rice, and on this a band of starving +children had pounced, and were scraping it up with their bony claws of +hands, clutching it +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_507" id="Page_507">[Pg 507]</a></span> + from each other, fighting for it, and devouring it +raw, while a supercilious servant looked on as though he were amused. +Beth's heart was wrung by the sight, and she hurried by, cursing the +greedy rich who wallow in luxury while children starve in the streets.</p> + +<p>In a squalid road which she had often to cross there was a butcher's +shop, where great sides of good red beef with yellow fat were hung in +the doorway. Coming home one evening after dark, she noticed in front of +her a gaunt little girl who carried a baby on her arm and was dragging a +small child along by the hand. When they came to the butcher's shop, +they stopped to look up at the great sides of beef, and the younger +child stole up to one of them, laid her little hand upon it caressingly, +then kissed it. The butcher came out and ordered them off, and Beth +pursued her way through the mire with tears in her eyes. She had +suffered temptation herself that same evening. She had to pass an +Italian eating-house where she used to go sometimes, before she had any +one depending on her, to have a two-shilling dinner—a good meal, +decently served. Now, when she was always hungry, this was one of the +places she had to hurry past; but even when she did not look at it, she +thought about it, and was tormented by the desire to go in and eat +enough just for once. Visions of thick soup, and fried fish with +potatoes, and roast beef with salad, whetted an appetite that needed no +whetting, and made her suffer an ache of craving scarcely to be +controlled. That day had been a particularly hungry one. The coffee was +done, every precious tea-leaf she had to husband for Arthur, and the +butter had also to be carefully economised because a good deal was +required for his crisp toast, which was unpalatable without it. Beth +lived principally on the crusts she cut off the toast. When they were +very stale, she steeped them in hot water, and sweetened them with brown +sugar. This mess reminded her of Aunt Victoria's bread-puddings, and the +happy summer when they lived together, and she learnt to sit upright on +Chippendale chairs. She would like to have talked to Arthur of those +tender memories, but she could not trust herself, being weak; the tears +were too near the surface.</p> + +<p>That day she had turned against her crusts, even with sugar, and had +felt no hunger until she got out into the air, when an imperious craving +for food seized upon her suddenly, and she made for the Italian +restaurant as if she had been driven. The moment she got inside the +place, however, she recovered her self-possession. She would die of +hunger rather than spend two precious shillings on herself while there +was that poor boy at home, suffering in silence, gratefully content with +the poorest fare she brought him, always making much of all she did.</p> + +<p>Beth got no farther than the counter. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_508" id="Page_508">[Pg 508]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I want something savoury for an invalid," she said.</p> + +<p>That evening, for the first time, Arthur sat up by the fire in the +grandfather chair with a blanket round him, and enjoyed a dainty little +feast which had been especially provided, as he understood, in honour of +the event.</p> + +<p>"But why won't you have some yourself?" he remonstrated.</p> + +<p>"Well, you see," Beth answered, "I went to the Italian restaurant when I +was out."</p> + +<p>"Oh, did you?" he said. "That's right. I wish you would go every day, +and have a good hot meal. Will you promise me?"</p> + +<p>"I'll go every day that I possibly can," Beth answered, smiling brightly +as she saw him fall-to contentedly with the appetite of a thriving +convalescent. Practising pious frauds upon him had become a confirmed +habit by this time—of which she should have been ashamed; but instead, +she felt a satisfying sense of artistic accomplishment when they +answered, and was only otherwise affected with a certain wonderment at +the very slight and subtle difference there is between truth and +falsehood as conveyed by the turn of a phrase.</p> + +<p>But now the money ran shorter and shorter; she had nothing much left to +sell; and it was a question whether she could possibly hold out until +her half-year's dividend was due. Perhaps the old lawyer would let her +anticipate it for once. She wrote and asked him, but while she was +waiting for a reply the pressure became acute.</p> + +<p>Out of doors one day, walking along dejectedly, wondering what she +should do when she came to her last shilling, her eye rested on a +placard in the window of a fashionable hairdresser's shop, and she read +mechanically: "<span class="smcap">A GOOD PRICE GIVEN FOR FINE HAIR</span>." She passed on, +however, and was half-way down the street before it occurred to her that +her own hair was of the finest; but the moment she thought of it, she +turned back, and walked into the hairdresser's shop in a business-like +way without hesitation. A gentleman was sitting beside the counter at +one end of the shop, waiting to be attended on; Beth took a seat at the +other end, and waited too. She sat there, deep in thought and +motionless, until she was roused by somebody saying, "What can I do for +you, miss?"</p> + +<p>Then she looked up and saw the proprietor, a man with a kindly face.</p> + +<p>"Can I speak to you for a moment?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Come this way, if you please," he replied, after a glance at her glossy +dark-brown hair and shabby gloves.</p> + +<p>When she went in that day, Arthur uttered an exclamation.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to say you've had your hair cut short?" he +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_509" id="Page_509">[Pg 509]</a></span> asked, speaking +to her almost roughly. "Are you going to join the unsexed crew that +shriek on platforms?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know any unsexed crew that shriek on platforms," she answered, +"and I am surprised to hear you taking the tone of cheap journalism. +There has been nothing in the woman movement to unsex women except the +brutalities of the men who oppose them."</p> + +<p>He coloured somewhat, but said no more—only sat looking into the fire +with an expression on his face that cut Beth to the quick. It was the +first cloud that had come to overshadow the perfect sympathy of their +intercourse. She was getting his tea at the moment, and, when it was +ready, she put it beside him and retired to his attic, which she +occupied, and looked at herself in the glass for the first time since +she had sacrificed her pretty hair. At the first glance, she laughed; +then her eyes filled with tears, and she threw herself on the bed and +sobbed silently—not because she regretted her hair, but because he was +hurt, and for once she had no comfort to give him.</p> + +<p>Just after she left him, an artist friend of his, Gresham Powell, came +in casually to look him up, and was surprised to find he had been so +ill.</p> + +<p>"I missed you about," he said, "but I thought you had shut yourself up +to work. Who's been looking after you?"</p> + +<p>Brock gave him the history of his illness.</p> + +<p>Powell shook his head when he heard of Beth's devotion.</p> + +<p>"Take care, my boy," he said. "The girls you find knocking about town in +these sort of places are not desirable associates for a promising young +man. They're worse than the regular bad ones—more likely to trap you, +you know, especially when you're shorn of your strength and have good +reason to be grateful. You might think you were rewarding her by +marrying her; but you'll find your mistake. Look at Simpson! Could a man +have done a girl a worse turn than he did when he married Florrie Crone? +They haven't a thought in common except when he's ill and she nurses +him; but a man can't be always getting ill in order to keep in touch +with his wife. I don't know, of course, what this girl's like; but half +of them are adventuresses bent on marrying gentlemen. Is she a +clergyman's daughter, by any chance?"</p> + +<p>"I know nothing about her but her name," Brock answered coldly. "She has +never tried to excite sympathy in any way."</p> + +<p>"Well, they are of all kinds, of course," said Powell temperately. "But +you'd better break away in any case. Nothing will set you up so soon as +a change. Come with me. I'm going into the country to see the spring +come in, and the fruit trees +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_510" id="Page_510">[Pg 510]</a></span> + flower, and to hear the nightingales. I +know a lovely spot. Come!"</p> + +<p>"I'll think about it, and let you know," Arthur Brock answered to get +rid of him.</p> + +<p>When he had gone Beth appeared. To please Arthur, she had covered her +cropped head with a white muslin mob-cap bound round with a pale pink +ribbon, and put on a high ruffle and a large white apron, in which she +looked pretty and prim, like a sweet little Puritan, in spite of the +pale pink vanity; and Arthur smiled when he saw her, but afterwards +grumbled: "Why did you cut your pretty hair off? I shouldn't have +thought you could do such a tasteless thing."</p> + +<p>Beth knelt down beside his chair to mend the fire, and then she began to +tidy the hearth.</p> + +<p>"Am I not the same person?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"No, not quite," he answered. "You have set up a doubt where all was +settled certainty."</p> + +<p>She had taken off the gloves she wore to do the grate, and was about to +pull herself up from her knees by the arm of his chair when he spoke, +but paused to ponder his words. It was with her left hand that she had +grasped the arm of his chair, and he happened to notice it particularly +as it rested there.</p> + +<p>"You wear a wedding-ring, I see," he remarked. "Do you find it a +protection?"</p> + +<p>"I never looked at it in that light," she answered. "In this vale of +tears I have a husband. That is why I wear it."</p> + +<p>There was a perceptible pause, then he asked with an effort, "Where is +your husband?"</p> + +<p>"At home, I suppose," said Beth, her voice growing strident with dislike +of the subject. "We do not correspond. He wishes to divorce me."</p> + +<p>"And what shall you do if he tries?" Brock asked.</p> + +<p>"Nothing," she replied, and was for leaving him to draw his own +conclusions, but changed her mind. "Shall I tell you the story," she +said after a while.</p> + +<p>"No, don't tell me," he rejoined quickly. "Your past is nothing to me. +Nothing that you may have done, and nothing that you may yet do, can +alter my feeling—my respect for you. As I have known you, so will you +always be to me—the sweetest, kindest friend I ever had, the best woman +I ever knew."</p> + +<p>Men are monotonous creatures. Given a position, and ninety-nine out of a +hundred will come to the same conclusion about it, only by diverse +methods, according to their prejudices; and this is especially the case +when women are in question. Woman is generally out of focus in the mind +of man; he sees her less as she is than as she ought or ought not to be. +Beth +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_511" id="Page_511">[Pg 511]</a></span> + did not thank Arthur Brock for his magnanimity. The fact that he +should shrink from hearing the story bespoke a doubt that made his +generous expression an offence. It may be kind to ignore the past of a +guilty person, but the innocent ask to be heard and judged; and full +faith has no fear of revelations.</p> + +<p>Beth rose from her knees, and began to prepare the invalid's evening +meal in silence. Usually they chattered like children the whole time, +but that evening they were both constrained. One of those subtle +changes, so common in the relations of men and women, had set in +suddenly since the morning; they were not as they had been with each +other, nor could they continue together as they were; there must be a +readjustment, which was in preparation during the pause.</p> + +<p>"You have heard me speak of Gresham Powell?" Brock began at last. "He +was here this afternoon. He thinks I had better go away with him into +the country for a change as soon as I can manage it."</p> + +<p>"It is a good idea," said Beth—"inland of course, not near the sea with +your rheumatism. I will get your things ready at once."</p> + +<p>This immediate acquiescence depressed him. He played with his supper a +little, pretending to eat it, then forgot it, and sat looking sadly into +the fire. Beth watched him furtively, but once he caught her gazing at +him with concern.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" he asked, with an effort to be cheerful.</p> + +<p>"The matter is the pained expression in your eyes," she answered. "Are +you suffering again?"</p> + +<p>"Just twinges," he said, then set his firm full lips, resolute to play +the man.</p> + +<p>But the twinges were mental, not bodily, and Beth understood. Their +happy days were done, and there was nothing to be said. They must each +go their own way now, and the sooner the better. Fortunately the old +lawyer had consented without demur to let Beth have her half-year's +dividend in advance, so that there was money for Arthur. He expressed +some surprise that there should be, but took what she gave him without +suspicion, and did not count it. He was careless in money matters, and +had forgotten what he had had when he was taken ill.</p> + +<p>"You're a great manager," he said to Beth. "But I suppose you haven't +paid up everything. You must let me know. It <i>will</i> be good to be at +work again!"</p> + +<p>"Yes," Beth answered; "but don't worry about it. You won't want money +before you are well able to make it."</p> + +<p>"I wish I knew for certain that you would go somewhere yourself to see +the spring come in," he said, looking at her wistfully. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_512" id="Page_512">[Pg 512]</a></span></p> + +<p>"All in good time," she answered in her sprightliest way.</p> + +<p>When the last morning came, Beth attended to her usual duties +methodically. She had made every arrangement for him, packed the things +he was to take, and put away those that were to be left behind. When the +cab was called, she went downstairs with him, and stood with Ethel Maud +Mary and Gwendolen on the doorstep in the spring sunshine, smiling and +waving her hand to him as he drove off. Her last words to him were, "You +will go home before we meet again. Give my love to America—and may she +send us many more such men," Beth added under her breath.</p> + +<p>"Amen!" Ethel Maud Mary and Gwendolen echoed.</p> + +<p>When the cab was out of sight, Beth turned and went into the house, +walking wearily. At the foot of the stairs she looked up as if she were +calculating the distance; then she began the long ascent with the help +of the banisters, counting each step she took mechanically. The attic +seemed strangely big and bare when she entered it—it was as if +something had been taken away and left a great gap. There was something +crude and garish about the light in it, too, which gave an unaccustomed +look to every familiar detail. The first thing she noticed was the chair +beside the fire, the old grandfather chair in which he had been sitting +only a few minutes before, resting after the effort of dressing—the +chair in which she had seen him sit and suffer so much and so bravely. +She would never see him there again, nor hear his voice—the kindest +voice she had ever heard. At his worst, it was always of her he thought, +of her comfort, of her fatigue; but all that was over now. He had gone, +and there could be no return—nothing could ever be as it had been +between them, even if they met again; but meet again they never would, +Beth knew, and at the thought she sank on the floor beside the senseless +chair, and, resting her head against it, broke down and cried the +despairing cry of the desolate for whom there is no comfort and no hope.</p> + +<p>The fire she had lighted for Arthur to dress by had gone out; there were +no more coals. The remains of his breakfast stood on the table; she had +not touched anything herself as yet. But she felt neither cold nor +hunger; she was beyond all that. The chair was turned with its back to +the window, and as she cowered beside it, she faced the opposite +whitewashed wall. A ray of sunshine played upon it, wintry sunshine +still, crystal cold and clear. Beth began to watch it. There was +something she had to think about—something to see to—something she +must think about—something she ought to see to, but precisely what it +was she could not grasp. It seemed to be hovering on the outskirts of +her mind, but it always eluded her. However, she had better +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_513" id="Page_513">[Pg 513]</a></span> not move +for fear of making a noise. And there was far too much noise as it +was—the wind rising and the waves breaking</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"All down the thundering shores of Bude and Bos——"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>No, though; it was a procession of camels crossing the desert, and in +the distance was an oasis surrounded by palms, and there was white +stonework gleaming between the trees in the wonderful light. And those +great doors that opened from within? They were opening although she had +not knocked. She was expected, then—there, where there was no more +weariness, nor care, nor hunger. But that was not where she wished to +go. No! no! that did not tempt her.</p> + +<p>"Take me where I shall not remember," she implored.</p> + +<p>Poor Beth! the one boon she had to ask of Heaven at five-and-twenty was +oblivion: "Let me be where I shall forget."</p> + +<p>Downstairs on the doorstep, Ethel Maud Mary and Gwendolen lingered a +while before they turned to follow Beth into the house, and, as they did +so, they noticed that a lady had stopped her carriage in the middle of +the road, jumped out impetuously, and was running towards them, +regardless of the traffic.</p> + +<p>"That was Mrs. Maclure who was standing with you here just now and went +into the house?" she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"<i>Miss</i> Maclure," Ethel Maud Mary corrected her.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Miss or Mrs., what does it matter?" the lady cried. "It was +Elizabeth Caldwell Maclure looking like death—where is she? Take me to +her at once!" She emphasised the request with an imperious stamp of her +foot.</p> + +<p>A few minutes later, Angelica, kneeling on the attic floor beside Beth, +cried aloud in horror, "Why, she is dead!"</p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LI" id="CHAPTER_LI"></a>CHAPTER LI</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">One</span> warm morning when the apple-trees were out, +Arthur Brock was sitting +with Gresham Powell in the garden of the farm-house where they were +lodging in the country, turning over a portfolio full of Powell's +sketches, and Powell was looking at them over his shoulder, and +discussing them with him. Arthur had just come upon a clever study of +the head of a girl in a hat, and was looking hard at it.</p> + +<p>"That's a study in starvation," Powell explained. "It's an interesting +face, isn't it? She came into a hairdresser's one day when I was there, +and sat down just in that attitude, and I sketched her on the spot. She +was too far through at the moment +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_514" id="Page_514">[Pg 514]</a></span> + to notice me. Look at her pretty hair +particularly. You'll see why in the next sketch, which is the sequel."</p> + +<p>Brock took up the next sketch hurriedly. It was the same girl in the +same hat, but with her hair cut short.</p> + +<p>"I asked the barber fellow about her when she'd gone," Gresham pursued. +"He'd taken her into an inner room, and when she came out she was +cropped like that. She told him she had come to her last shilling, and +she had an invalid at home depending on her entirely, and she entreated +him to give her all he could for her hair. I believe the chap did too," +he seemed so moved by her suffering and gentleness. "What's the matter?"</p> + +<p>Brock had risen abruptly with the sketches still in his hand. The colour +had left his face, and he looked as pinched and ill as he had done +during the early days of his convalescence.</p> + +<p>"The matter!" he ejaculated. "I've just discovered what a blind fool I +am, that's what's the matter; and I'll keep these two studies with your +permission to remind me of the fact. Choose amongst mine any you like +instead of them, old chap, but these you must let me have."</p> + +<p>Without waiting for an answer, he took the sketches away with him into +the house. When he returned a short time afterwards, he was dressed for +a journey, and had a travelling bag in his hand.</p> + +<p>"I'm going to town," he said, "to see the original of these sketches. +I've run up an account with her I shall never be able to settle, but at +all events I can acknowledge my debt, dolt that I am! <i>I</i> was that +invalid. And I thought myself such a gentleman too! not counting my +change and asking no questions, trusting her implicitly: that was my +pose from the day you came and poisoned my mind. Before that I had +neither trusted nor distrusted, but just taken things for granted as +they came, beautifully. I was too self-satisfied even to suspect that +she might be imposing her bounty upon me, starving herself that I might +have all I required, and sending me off here finally with the last penny +she had in the world. I told you I was wondering she did not answer my +letters. I expect she hadn't the stamp. But you said it was out of sight +out of mind, and she'd be trying it on with some one else in my absence. +If I'd the strength, I'd thrash you, Gresham, for an evil-minded +bounder."</p> + +<p>"I'll carry your bag to the station, old chap," Gresham replied with +contrition, "and take the thrashing at your earliest convenience."</p> + +<p>Ethel Maud Mary was standing on the steps in the sunshine looking out +when Arthur Brock arrived, just as she had stood to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_515" id="Page_515">[Pg 515]</a></span> watch him depart, +but in the interval a happy change had pleasantly transformed her. Her +golden hair was brightly burnished again, her blue eyes sparkled, and +her delicate skin had recovered its rose-leaf tinge. She wore a new +frock, a new ring, a new watch and chain, and there was a new look in +her face, one might say, as if the winter of care had passed out of her +life with the snow and been forgotten in the spring sunshine of better +prospects.</p> + +<p>"O Mr. Brock!" she exclaimed; "you back! But none too well yet, judging +by appearances."</p> + +<p>"Where is Mrs. Maclure?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"I wish I knew!" Ethel Maud Mary rejoined, becoming important all at +once. "She's gone for good, that's all I can tell you. O Mr. Brock! +fancy her being tip-top all the time, and us not suspecting it, though I +might have thought something when I saw the dresses she sold when you +were ill, only I'd got the fashion papers in my mind, and didn't know +but what she'd been paid in dresses! Come into the parlour; you look +faint."</p> + +<p>"You said she sold her dresses?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; sit down, Mr. Brock. A glass of port wine is what you want, as +she'd say herself if she was here; and you'll get it good too, for it's +been sent for Ma. My! the things that have come! Look at me—all +presents—everything she ever heard me say I'd like to have; and +Gwendolen the same."</p> + +<p>She got out the wine and the biscuits from a chiffonier as she +chattered, and set them before him.</p> + +<p>"Yes, she sold her dresses, and her rings, and her books, and every +other blessed thing she possessed except what had belonged to an old +aunt. She got <i>them</i> out too, one day, but cried so when it came to +parting with them, I persuaded her to wait. I said something would turn +up, I was sure. And something did, for <i>you</i> went away, and directly +after—the next minute, so to speak, for you were scarcely out of +sight—a lady stopped her carriage—a fine carriage and pair and +coachman and footman all silver-mounted—and ran up the steps in a great +way. She'd seen Mrs. Maclure go into the house, and she said she'd been +hunting for her everywhere for months, and all her friends were in a way +about her, not knowing what had happened to her. I took the lady up to +the attic, and there was Mrs. Maclure lying on the floor looking like +death, with her head up against the big chair where you used to sit. We +thought she <i>was</i> dead at first, but the doctor came and brought her +round. He said it was just exhaustion from fatigue and starvation."</p> + +<p>Arthur Brock uttered an exclamation.</p> + +<p>"You needn't reproach yourself, Mr. Brock," Ethel Maud Mary pursued +sympathetically. "You weren't worse than the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_516" id="Page_516">[Pg 516]</a></span> rest of us. I saw her +every day, and never suspected she was denying herself everything, she +was always so much the same—happy, you know, in her quiet way."</p> + +<p>"Do you think she was happy?" he groaned.</p> + +<p>"Yes, she was happy," Ethel Maud Mary said simply. "She's that +disposition—contented, you know; and she was happy from the first; but +she was happier still from the time she had you to care for. I'd read +about ladies of that kind, Mr. Brock, but had not seen one before. It's +being good does it, I suppose. Do you know she'd not have told a lie was +it ever so, Mrs. Maclure wouldn't!"</p> + +<p>"And she went away with that lady?" Arthur asked, after a pause.</p> + +<p>"Yes, if you can call it going," Ethel Maud Mary replied; "for the lady +didn't ask her leave, but just rolled her up in wraps, and had her +carried down to the carriage and took her off. And that's all we know +about her. She's written me a letter I'd like to show you, and sent me +money, pretending she owed it, because I'd let her have her attic too +cheap. She sent the presents afterwards, but no address. The lady came +back once alone, and had the attic photographed, with everything +arranged just as Mrs. Maclure used to have it. And she bought all the +things in it that belonged to us, and had them and all Mrs. Maclure's +own things taken away to keep, she said. She sat a long time in the +attic, looking at it, just as if she was trying to imagine what living +in it was like, and she kept dabbing her eyes with a little lace +handkerchief, and then she got up and sighed and said, 'Poor Beth! poor +Beth!' several times. She talked to me a lot about Mrs. Maclure. She +seemed to know all about me, and treated me as if we'd been old friends. +And she knew all about you too, and asked after you kindly. She said +Mrs. Maclure was going to be a great woman—a great genius or something +of that sort—and do a lot for the world; and she wanted to know if +you'd ever suspected it. I told her I thought not. The two letters you +wrote she took to give Mrs. Maclure, so she'd get <i>them</i> all right."</p> + +<p>"And see the particular kind of fatuous ass I am set down clearly in my +own handwriting!" he said to himself.</p> + +<p>Then he rose. "I'll just go up and look at the attics," he said.</p> + +<p>Ethel Maud Mary waited below, and waited long for him. When at last he +came down, he shook hands with her, but without looking at her.</p> + +<p>"I'm going to find that lady—Mrs. Maclure," he said, jamming his hat +down on his head, "if I have to spend the rest of my life in the +search." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_517" id="Page_517">[Pg 517]</a></span></p> + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LII" id="CHAPTER_LII"></a>CHAPTER LII</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beth,</span> surrounded by friends, saw the spring come in that year at +Ilverthorpe, and felt it the fairest spring she could remember. +Blackbird and thrush sang in an ecstasy by day, and all night long the +nightingales trilled in the happy dusk. She did not ask herself why it +was there was a new note in nature that year, nor did she trouble +herself about time or eternity. Her eternity was the exquisite monotony +of tranquil days, her time-keepers the spring flowers, the apple-blossom +and quince, daffodil, wallflower, lilac and laburnum, the perfumed +calycanthus, forget-me-nots, pansies, hyacinths, lilies-of-the-valley in +the woods, and early roses on a warm south wall; and over all the lark +by day, and again at night the nightingale. In a life like hers, after a +period of probation there comes an interval of this kind occasionally, a +pause for rest and renewal of strength before active service begins +again.</p> + +<p>While she had been shut up with Arthur, seeing no papers and hearing no +news, her book had come out and achieved a very respectable success, for +the sort of thing it was; and she was pleased to hear it, but not +elated. The subject had somehow lapsed from her mind, and the career of +the book gave her no more personal pleasure than if it had been the work +of a friend. Had it come out when it was first finished, she would have +felt differently about it; but now she saw it as only one of the many +things which had happened to her, and considered it more as the old +consider the works of their youth, estimating them in proportion, as is +the habit of age, and moderately rather than in excess. For the truth +was that a great change had come over Beth during the last few months in +respect to her writing; her enthusiasm had singularly cooled; it had +ceased to be a pleasure, and become an effort to her to express herself +in that way.</p> + +<p>Mr. Alfred Cayley Pounce had been looking out for Beth's book, and, +while waiting for it to appear, he had, misled by his own suppositions, +prepared an elaborate article upon the kind of thing he expected it to +be. Nothing was wanting to complete the article but a summary of the +story and quotations from it, for which he had left plenty of space. He +condemned the book utterly from the point of view of art, and for the +silly ignorance of life displayed in it, and the absurd caricatures +which were supposed to be people; he ridiculed the writer for taking +herself seriously (but without showing why exactly she should not take +herself seriously if she chose); he pitied her for her disappointment +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_518" id="Page_518">[Pg 518]</a></span> +when she should realise where in literature her place would be; and he +ended with a bitter diatribe against the works of women generally, as +being pretentious, amateur, without originality, and wanting in humour, +like the wretched stuff it had been his painful duty to expose. +Unfortunately for him, however, the book appeared anonymously, and +immediately attracted attention enough to make him wish to discover it; +and before he found out that Beth was the author, he had committed +himself to a highly eulogistic article upon it in <i>The Patriarch</i>, which +he took the precaution to sign, that the coming celebrity might know to +whom gratitude was due, and in which he declared that there had arisen a +new light of extraordinary promise on the literary horizon. The book, as +it happened, was not a work of fiction at all.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>Beth had heard nothing more from Dr. Maclure, and knew nothing about +him, except that he must have lost his degrading appointment, the Acts +having been rescinded. He had forwarded none of the letters her friends +had addressed to her at Slane. The Kilroys had endeavoured to obtain her +address from him, but he denied that he knew it. Unknown to her, Mr. +Kilroy, Mr. Hamilton-Wells, and Sir George Galbraith had taken the best +legal advice in the hope of getting her a divorce; but there was little +chance of that, as the acute mental suffering her husband had caused her +had merely injured her health and endangered her reason, which does not +amount to cruelty in the estimation of the law. The matter was therefore +allowed to drop, and Beth had not yet begun to think of the future, when +one day she received a letter from Dan, couched in the most affectionate +terms, entreating her to return to him.</p> + +<p>"You must own that I had cause for provocation," he said, "but I confess +that I was too hasty. It is natural, though, that a man should feel it +if his wife gets herself into such a position, however innocently; and +the more he has trusted, loved, and respected his wife, the more violent +will the reaction be. I know, however, that I have had my own +shortcomings since we were married, and therefore that I should make +every allowance for you. So let us be friends, Beth, and begin all over +again, as you once proposed. I am ready to leave Slane and settle +wherever you like. Make your own conditions; anything that pleases you +will please me."</p> + +<p>This letter upset Beth very much. She would almost rather have had an +action for divorce brought against her than have been asked to return to +Daniel Maclure.</p> + +<p>"Ought I to go back?" she asked, willing, with the fatuous persistency +of women in like cases, to persevere if it were thought +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_519" id="Page_519">[Pg 519]</a></span> right that she +should, although she knew pretty well that the sacrifice would be +unavailing so far as he was concerned, and would only entail upon +herself the common lot of women so mated—a ruined constitution and +corroded mind.</p> + +<p>"Why does he suddenly so particularly wish it?" was the question.</p> + +<p>The obvious explanation was indirectly conveyed in a letter from her old +lawyer. He had written to her in her London lodgings, first of all, but +the letter was returned from the Dead Letter Office. Then he had written +to Slane, but as he received no answer to that letter and it was not +returned, he went in person to inquire about it. Dan declared that he +knew nothing about the letter, or about Beth either, if she had left +London; but he thought her intimate friends the Kilroys might know where +she was. The old gentleman applied to the Kilroys, and having found +Beth, wrote to inform her that her great-aunt Victoria Bench's +investments had recovered at last, as he had always been pretty sure +that they would, and she would accordingly, for the future, find herself +in receipt of an income of seven or eight hundred pounds a year. Dan's +sudden magnanimity was accounted for. Beth put his effusion and the +lawyer's letter before her friends, and asked to be advised. They +decided unanimously that, on the one hand, Dan was not a proper person +for her to live with, that no decent woman could associate with a man of +his mind, habits, and conversation without suffering injury in some +sort; while, on the other, they pointed out that, although it would be +nice, it would not be good for Dan to have the benefit of Beth's little +income. While he was forced to work, he would have to conduct himself +with a certain amount of propriety; but if Beth relieved him of the +necessity, there would be nothing to restrain him.</p> + +<p>This episode roused Beth from her tranquil apathy, and made her think of +work once more. But first she had to settle somewhere and make a home +for herself; and although she had ample means for all her requirements +now, it was not an easy thing to find the special conditions on which +she had set her heart. The first impulse of a woman of noble nature is +to be consistent, to live up to all she professes to admire. As Beth +grew older, to live for others became more and more her ideal of +life;—not to live in the world, however, or to be of it, but to work +for it.</p> + +<p>"I must be quiet," she said to Angelica one day when they were +discussing her future. "I am done for so far as work is concerned when I +come into contact with crowds. I want to live things then; I don't want +to think about them. Excitement makes me content to be, and careless +about doing. My truest +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_520" id="Page_520">[Pg 520]</a></span> + and best life is in myself, and I can only live +it in circumstances of tranquil monotony. People talk so much about +making the most of life, but their attempts are curiously bungling. What +they call living is for the most part more pain than pleasure to them; +for the truth is, that life should not be lived by men of mind, but +contemplated; it is the spectator, not the actor, who enjoys and +profits. The actor has his moment of applause, but all the rest is +misery. People rush to great centres to obtain a knowledge of life, and +do not succeed, for there they see nothing but broad effects. We find +our knowledge of life in individuals, not in crowds. There is no more +individuality in a crowd of people than there is in a flock of sheep. +All I know of life, of its infinite diversity, I have learnt here and +there from some one person or another, known intimately. A solitary +experience, rightly considered in all its bearings, teaches us more than +numbers of those incidents of which we see the surface only 'in the joy +of eventful living;' and, if the truth were known, I expect it would be +found that each one of us had obtained the most valuable part of our +experience in such homely details of simple unaffected human nature as +came under our observation in our native villages."</p> + +<p>"Yes," Angelica answered thoughtfully, "the looker-on sees most of the +game. But I don't think you allow enough for differences of temperament. +You are thinking of the best conditions for creative work. You mustn't +lose sight of all the active service that is going on."</p> + +<p>"No; but it is in retirement that the best preparation is made for +active service also. And I was thinking of active service more than of +creative work just then. The truth is, I am in a state of being +oppressed by the thought of my new book. I don't know what has come to +me. I am all fretty about it. Writing has lost its charm. I doubt if I +shall ever do well enough to make it worth while to write at all. And +even if I could, I don't think mere literary success would satisfy me. I +have tasted enough of that to know what it would be—a sordid triumph, a +mere personal thing."</p> + +<p>"Ideala does not think that it is necessarily as a literary woman that +you will succeed," Angelica answered. "<i>I</i> thought it was because all +the indications you have given of special capacity seem to me to lie in +that direction. However, versatile people make mistakes sometimes. They +don't always begin with the work they are best able to do; but there is +no time lost, for one thing helps another—one thing is necessary to +another, I <i>should</i> say, perhaps. Your writing may have helped to +perfect you in some other form of expression."</p> + +<p>"You cheer me!" Beth exclaimed. "But what form?" She reflected a little, +and then she put the puzzle from her. "It +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_521" id="Page_521">[Pg 521]</a></span> + will come to me, I dare say," +she said, "if I shut the din of the world far from me, and sit with +folded arms in contemplation, waiting for the moment and the match which +shall fire me to the right pitch of enthusiasm. Nothing worth doing in +art is done by calculation."</p> + +<p>"I think you are right to keep out of the crowd," said Angelica. "You +will get nothing but distraction from without. I should take one of the +privileges of a great success to be the right to refuse all invitations +that draw one into the social swim. Men and women of high purpose do not +arrive in order to be crowded into stuffy drawing-rooms to be stared +at."</p> + +<p>"My idea of perfect bliss," Beth pursued, "when my work is done, and my +friends are not with me, is to lie my length upon a cliff above the sea, +listening to the many-murmurous, soothed by it into a sense of oneness +with Nature, till I seem to be mixed with the elements, a part of sky +and sea and shore, and akin to the wandering winds. This mood for my +easy moments; but give me work for my live delight. I know nothing so +altogether ecstatic as a good mood for work."</p> + +<p>"What you call work is power of expression," said Angelica; "the power +to express something in yourself, I fancy."</p> + +<p>"Ye—yes," Beth answered, hesitating, as if the notion were new to her. +"I believe you are right. What I call work is the effort to express +myself."</p> + +<p>Mr. Kilroy had come in while they were talking, and sat listening to the +last part of the conversation.</p> + +<p>"I have just the sort of 'neat little cot in a quiet spot, with a +distant view of the rolling sea' that you yearn for, Beth," he said, +smiling, when she paused, "and I have come to ask you and Angelica to +drive over with me to see it."</p> + +<p>"You mean Ilverthorpe Cottage," said Angelica, jumping up. "O Daddy! +it's the very place. Two storeys, Beth, ivy, roses, jasmine, wisteria +without; and within, space and comfort of every kind—and the sea in +sight! Such a pretty garden, too, grass and trees and shrubs and +flowers. And near enough for us all to see you as often as you wish. +Beth, be excited too! I must bring my violin, I think, and play a +triumphal march on the way."</p> + +<p>Ilverthorpe Cottage was all and more than Angelica had said, and Beth +did not hesitate to take it. It was Mr. Kilroy's property, and the rent +was suspiciously low, but Beth supposed that that was because the house +was out of the way. She and Angelica spent long happy days in getting it +ready for occupation, choosing paper, paint, and furnishments. Mr. +Kilroy saw to the stables, which he completed with a saddle-horse and a +pony-carriage. There was a short cut across the fields, a lovely walk, +from Ilverthorpe House to the Cottage, and when Angelica could not +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_522" id="Page_522">[Pg 522]</a></span> +accompany her, Beth would stroll over alone to see how things were +getting on, and wander about her little demesne, and love it. Outside +her garden, in front of the house, the highroad ran, a sheltered +highroad, with a raised footpath, bordered on either side with great +trees, oak and elm, chestnut and beech, and a high hawthorn hedge just +whitening into blossom. The field-path came out on this highroad, down +which she had to walk a few hundred yards to her own gate. Day after day +there was an old Irish labourer, a stonebreaker, by the wayside, +kneeling on a sack beside a great heap of stones, who gave her a cheery +good-morrow as she passed. Once she went across the road and spoke to +him. He had the face of a saint at his devotions.</p> + +<p>"You kneel there all day long," she said, "and as you kneel you pray, +perhaps. Will you pray for me? Pray, pray that I may"—she was going to +say succeed, but stopped—"that I may be good."</p> + +<p>The man raised his calm eyes, and looked her in the face. "You <i>are</i> +good, lady," he said simply.</p> + +<p>"Yet pray," she entreated; "and pray too that all I do may be good, and +of good effect."</p> + +<p>"All you do is good, lady," he answered once more, in the same quiet +tone of conviction.</p> + +<p>"But I want all I do to be the best for the purpose that can be done."</p> + +<p>She put some money in his hand and turned away, and as she went he +watched her. She had touched him with her soft gloveless fingers in +giving him the money, and when she had gone, he was conscious of the +touch; it tingled through him, and he looked at the spot on which the +impression remained, as if he expected it to be in some sort visible.</p> + +<p>"Now Our Lady love you and the saints protect you, bless your sweet +face," he muttered; "and may all you do be the best that can be done for +every one. Amen."</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>A few months in her lovely little house sufficed to restore Beth's mind +to its natural attitude—an attitude of deep devotion. She even began to +work again, but rather with a view to making herself useful to her +friends than to satisfy any ambition or craving of her own. Whatever she +did, however, she approached in the spirit of the great musician who +dressed himself in his best, and prayed as at a solemn service, when he +shut himself up to compose. Beth had stepped away from the old forms by +this time. She had escaped from the bondage of the letter that killeth +into the realm of the spirit that giveth life. It is not faith in any +particular fetish that makes a mind religious, but the quality of +reverence. Churches Beth had come to look upon, not with distrust, but +with +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_523" id="Page_523">[Pg 523]</a></span> + indifference, as an ineffectual experiment of man's. She could +find no evidence of a holier spirit or a more divine one in the church +than in any other human institution for the propagation of instruction. +The church has never been superior to the times, never as far advanced +as the best men of the day, never a leader, but rather an opposer of +progress, hindering when ideas were new, and only coming in to help when +workers without had proved their discoveries, and it was evident that +credit would be lost by refusing to recognise them. There is no cruelty +the church has not practised, no sin it has not committed, no ignorance +it has not displayed, no inconsistency it has not upheld, from teaching +peace and countenancing war, to preaching poverty and piling up riches. +True, there have been great saints in the church; but then there have +been great saints out of it. Saintliness comes of conscientiously +cultivating the divine in human nature; it is a seed that is sown and +flourishes under the most diverse conditions.</p> + +<p>Beth thought much on religion in those quiet days, and read much, +looking for spiritual sustenance among the garbage of mind with which +man has overlaid it, and finding little to satisfy her, until one night, +quite suddenly, as she sat holding her mind in the attitude of prayer, +there came to her a wonderful flash of illumination. She had not been +occupied with the point that became apparent. It entered her mind +involuntarily, and was made clear to her without conscious effort on her +part; but it was that which she sought, the truth that moves, makes +evident, makes easy, props and stays, and is the instigator of religious +action, the source of aspiration, the ground of hope—the which was all +contained for Beth in the one old formula interpreted in a way that was +new to her: <i>The communion of saints</i> (that inexplicable sympathy +between soul and soul), <i>the forgiveness of sins</i>, (working out our own +salvation in fear and trembling), <i>the resurrection of the body</i> +(reincarnation), <i>and the life everlasting</i> (which is the crown or +glory, the final goal).</p> + +<p>"But God?" Beth questioned.</p> + +<p>"God is love," she read in the book that lay open on the table before +her.</p> + +<p>Then she clasped her hands over the passage and laid her head on them, +and for a long time she sat so, not thinking, but just repeating it to +herself softly: "God is love," till all at once there was a blank in her +consciousness; thought was suspended. When it returned, she looked up, +and in herself were the words: "God is Love—no! <i>Love is God!</i>"</p> + +<p>In the joy of the revelation, she arose, and, going to the window, flung +it wide open. Far down the east the dawn was dimly burning; the faint +sweet breath of it fanned her cheeks; +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_524" id="Page_524">[Pg 524]</a></span> + her chest expanded with a great +throb, and she exclaimed aloud: "I follow, follow—<i>God</i>—I know not +where."</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>Beth had a task before her that day which she did not relish in the +anticipation. She was going as a stopgap to speak at a large meeting to +oblige Angelica. She had the credit of being able to speak, and she +herself supposed that she could in a way, because of the success of her +first attempt; but she did not consent to try again without much +hesitation and many qualms, and she would certainly not have consented +had not her friends been in a difficulty, with no one at hand to help +them out of it but herself. But to be drawn from her hallowed seclusion +into such a blaze of publicity, even for once, was not at all to her +mind, and much of her wakefulness of the night before had been caused by +her shrinking from the prospect.</p> + +<p>Late that night after the meeting she returned to her cottage alone, +cowering in a corner of the Kilroys' carriage. She was cowering from the +recollection of a great crowd that rose with deafening shouts and seemed +to be rushing at her—cowering, too, from the inevitable which she had +been forced to recognise—her vocation—discovered by accident, and with +dismay, for it was not what she would have chosen for herself in any way +had it occurred to her that she had any choice in the matter. There were +always moments when she would fain have led the life which knows no care +beyond the cultivation of the arts, no service but devotion to them, no +pleasure like the enjoyment of them,—a selfish life made up of +impersonal delights, such as music, which is emotion made audible, +painting, which is emotion made visible, and poetry, which is emotion +made comprehensible;—and such a life could not have been anything but +grateful to one like Beth, who had the capacity for so many interests of +the kind. She was debarred from all that, however, by grace of nature. +Beth could not have lived for herself had she tried. So that now, when +the call had come, and the way in which she could best live for others +was made plain to her, she had no thought but to pursue it.</p> + +<p>The carriage put her down at her garden-gate, and she stood awhile in +the moonlight, listening to it as it rolled away with patter of horses' +hoofs and rattle of harness, listening intently as if the sound +concerned her. Then she let herself in, and was hurrying up to her room, +but stopped short on the stairs, cowering from the crowd that rose and +cheered and cheered and seemed to be rushing at her.</p> + +<p>Her bedroom had windows east, west, and south, so that she had sunrise +and sunset and the sun all day. When she went in now, she found the +lamps lighted and all the windows shut, and she went round and flung +them open with an irritable gesture. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_525" id="Page_525">[Pg 525]</a></span> + Her nerves were overwrought; the +slightest contrariety upset her. The sweet fresh country air streamed in +and the tranquil moonlight. These alone would ordinarily have been +enough to soothe her, but now she paid no heed to them. When she had +opened the windows, she began to take off her things in feverish haste, +pacing about the room restlessly the while, as if that helped her to be +quicker. Everything she wore seemed too hot, too heavy, or too tight, +and she flung hat and cloak and bodice down just where she took them off +in her haste to get rid of them. Throwing her things about like that was +an old trick of her childhood, and becoming conscious of what she was +doing, she remembered it, and began to think of herself as she had been +then, and so forget her troubled self as she was at that moment—fresh +from the excitement and terror of an extraordinary achievement, a great +success. For she had spoken that night as few have spoken—spoken to a +hostile audience and fascinated them by the power of her personality, +the mesmeric power which is part of the endowment of an orator, and had +so moved them that they rose at last and cheered her for her eloquence, +whether they held her opinions or not. Then there had come friendly +handshakes and congratulations and encouragement; and one had said, +"Beth is launched at last upon her true career."</p> + +<p>"But who could have thought that that was her bent?" another had asked.</p> + +<p>Beth did not hear the answer, but she knew what it should have been. She +had been misled herself, and so had every one else, by her pretty talent +for writing, her love of turning phrases, her play on the music of +words. The writing had come of cultivation, but this—the last +discovered power—was the natural gift. Angelica had said that all the +indications had pointed to literary ability in Beth, but there had been +other indications hitherto unheeded. There was that day at +Castletownrock when Beth invited the country people in to see the house, +and, for the first time, found words flowing from her lips eloquently; +there were her preachings to Emily and Bernadine in the acting-room, of +which they never wearied; her first harangue to the girls who had caught +her bathing on the sands, and the power of her subsequent teaching which +had bound them to the Secret Service of Humanity for as long as she +liked; there was her storytelling at school, too, and her lectures to +the girls—not to mention the charm of her ordinary conversation when +the mood was upon her, as in the days when she used to sit and fish with +the bearded sailors, and held them with curious talk as she had held the +folk in Ireland, fascinating them. And then there was the unexpected +triumph of her first public attempt—indications enough of a natural +bent, had there been any one to interpret them. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_526" id="Page_526">[Pg 526]</a></span></p> + +<p>Beth, as she thought on these things, wandered from window to window, +too restless and excited to sit still; but, even occupied as she was, +after she had changed her dress the old trick came upon her, and she was +all the while observing.</p> + +<p>It was autumn, and on the south she overlooked a field of barley, +standing in stooks, waiting to be carted. She noticed how the long, +irregular rows and their shadows showed in the moonlight. Across the +field the farm to which it belonged nestled in an apple-orchard. From +the east end of the house she obtained a glimpse of the sea, which was +near enough, for the drowsy murmur of it reached her even in calm +weather. To the west the highroad ran, and in her wanderings from window +to window Beth paused to contemplate it, to follow it in imagination +whither it led, to think of the weary way it was to so many weary feet, +to mourn because she could not offer rest and refreshment to every one +that passed.</p> + +<p>The night was clear and the air was crisp, with a suspicion of frost in +it, such as sometimes comes in the late autumn. The moon was sinking, +and the stars shone out ever more brightly. Down in the roadway a little +brazier burned, where the road had been taken up and blocked for +repairs, and over the brazier the old watchman, who should have been +guarding the tools and materials that had been left lying about, dozed +in a sort of sentry-box. It occurred to Beth that the task was long and +dreary, and that the air grew chilly towards the dawn. Surely some food +would cheer and refresh him, and help to pass the time. She went down to +the pantry and got some, then carried it out on a tray. But the old man +was sound asleep, and, standing there in her long white wrapper, she had +to call him several times, "Old man! old man!" before she roused him.</p> + +<p>He awoke at last with a start, and seeing the unexpected apparition in +the dim light, exclaimed, "Holy Mother! why have you come to me?"</p> + +<p>Beth silently set the tray before him and slipped away, leaving him in +the happy certainty that a heavenly vision had been vouchsafed him.</p> + +<p>But the moon set, the stars paled, and, from her window to the east, +Beth watched the dark melt to dusk, and the dusk pale to an even grey, +into which were breathed the burnished colours of the happy dawn. Then, +when the sun was high, and the accustomed sounds of life and movement +that held her ear by day had well begun, down the long road beneath the +old gnarled trees the postman came beladen, and there were brought to +her pamphlets, papers, cards, letters, telegrams, a fine variety of +praise, abuse, sympathy, derision, insults, and admiration. Quietly Beth +read, and knew what it meant, all of it—success! and the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_527" id="Page_527">[Pg 527]</a></span> success she +had most desired: that her words should come with comfort to thousands +of those that suffer, who, when they heard, would raise their heads once +more in hope. In one paper that she opened she read: "A great teacher +has arisen among us, a woman of genius—" Hastily she put the paper +aside, burning with a kind of shame, although alone, to see so much said +of herself. Beth was one of the first swallows of the woman's summer. +She was strange to the race when she arrived, and uncharitably commented +upon; but now the type is known, and has ceased to surprise.</p> + +<p>When she was dressed that morning, she went down to her bright little +breakfast parlour. Before her was the harvest-field, looking its +loveliest in the early morning sunlight. As she contemplated the +peaceful scene, she thought that she should feel herself a singularly +fortunate being. The dead would be with her no more, alas! except in the +spirit; but all else that heart could desire, was it not hers? The +answer came quick, No! Something was wanting. But she did not ask +herself what the something was.</p> + +<p>The harvesters were not at work that morning, and she had not seen a +soul since she sat down to breakfast; but before she left the table, a +horseman came out from the farm, and rode towards her across the long +field, deliberately. She watched him, absently at first, but as he +approached he reminded her of the Knight of her daily vision, her +saviour, who had come to rescue her in the dark days of her deep +distress at Slane—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"> "A bowshot from her bower-eaves,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He rode between the barley-sheaves."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"The barley-sheaves!" suddenly Beth's heart throbbed and fluttered and +stood still. The words had come to her as the interpretation of an +augury, the fulfilment of a promise. It seemed as if she ought to have +known it from the first, known that he would come like that at last, +that he had been coming, coming, coming through all the years. As he +drew near, the rider looked up at her, the sun shone on his face, he +raised his hat. In dumb emotion, not knowing what she did, Beth reached +out her hands towards him as if to welcome him. He was not the Knight of +her dark days, however, this son of the morning, but the Knight of her +long winter vigil—Arthur Brock.</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<div class="bbox"> +<h3>Transcriber's note</h3> + +<h3>The following have been changed, as they appear to be typesetter's errors.<br /> +All other colloquialisms, non-standard spelling, grammar and punctuation +have been left as they appear in the original book.<br /> +To assist the reader, a hyperlinked chapter listing has been added to +this html version.<br /> There was no table of contents in the original book.</h3> + +<dl> +<dt><a class="a1" href="#Page_2">Page 2</a></dt> +<dd>"I had quite forgotten the whisky," she said to the +maid-of [hyphen added] all-work,</dd> +<dt><a class="a1" href="#Page_34">Page 34</a></dt> +<dd>"What does she do it for? [added "]</dd> +<dt><a class="a1" href="#Page_220">Page 220</a></dt> +<dd>Do I separate myself from Count Bartahlinski [changed to Bartahlinsky]?</dd> +<dt><a class="a1" href="#Page_290">Page 290</a></dt> +<dd>Miss Bey had had great experience of girls, and her sharp +manner, which was mainly acquired in the effort to maintain +displine, [changed to "discipline"] somewhat belied her kindly nature.</dd> +<dt><a class="a1" href="#Page_395">Page 395</a></dt> +<dd>"I calcalute [changed to calculate?] that they come to just three +hundred pounds,"</dd> +<dt><a class="a1" href="#Page_468">Page 468</a></dt> +<dd>If we were to die now, in six +months it would be as though we had never bee [added n]</dd> +<dt><a class="a1" href="#Page_469">Page 469</a></dt> +<dd>I never knew such a woman +tiil [changed to till?] I met you;</dd> +<dt><a class="a1" href="#Page_522">Page 522</a></dt> +<dd>bordered on either +side with great trees, oak and elm, chestnut and beech, and a +high hawthorn hedge just whitening into blosom. 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